Decommodifying Electricity

Electricity markets are struggling. Unprecedented energy price shocks, a deeply entrenched cost-of-living crisis, and the imperatives of decarbonization are challenging the ability of current market arrangements to deliver clean, affordable electricity at the scale and pace necessary to avoid widespread climate disruption. Over the last several years, mass protests around the world have put a vision of electricity as a primary social good and system of provisioning squarely on the public agenda for the first time in a generation. Regulators have responded with emergency packages of support and longer-term efforts to rethink and reform the basic design of electricity markets. In all of this, it is increasingly clear that the forty-year global experiment with neoliberal electricity has failed to deliver on even the most basic metrics and, more importantly, is no longer fit for purpose as electricity becomes the chief instrument of decarbonization for most economies around the world. This Article explains how and why electricity markets have failed and offers a series of prescriptions for where we go from here. The Article starts with a brief global history of neoliberal electricity that shows how the project of privatization and restructuring emerged and spread around the world and the consequences this entailed. It then discusses how these markets have struggled with persistent problems of market power, chronic underinvestment, high prices, and an inability to support renewable energy at scale. Finally, the Article offers some provisional thoughts on what an alternative, decommodified approach to electricity might look like as the clean energy transition accelerates, focusing specifically on the relationship between capital and infrastructure, the need for “social ratemaking” to ensure access and affordability, and the potential for a more cooperative approach to balancing the system as intermittent renewables come to dominate the supply of electricity. The Article draws on recent work in law and political economy as well as some of its precursors in legal realism and institutional economics. It also engages with a specific set of questions and concerns that have long preoccupied the fields of public utility and regulated industries law but have recently been revived and updated in the context of a new cross-sectoral approach to economic regulation known as networks, platforms, and utilities law. The key objective is to understand how law, politics, and economics have together structured distributional struggles over the design and maintenance of electricity markets and how they might be recombined in new ways to realize a vision of electricity as a key system of provisioning and vital infrastructure for the clean energy future.

INTRODUCTION

In the summer of 2022, during the most severe energy crisis in half a century, grassroots organizers launched a new campaign across the United Kingdom known as “Don’t Pay UK.” The goal was simple and audacious: recruit one million households from across the country to join an “energy strike”—a mass movement to stop paying energy bills.1See FAQs, Don’t Pay, https://dontpay.uk/about/faqs [https://web.archive.org/web/20230801102720/https://dontpay.uk/about/faqs/]; see also Alex Lawson, Don’t Pay: The Campaigners Urging Britons to ‘Strike’ Over Energy Bills, Guardian (Oct. 1, 2022), https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2022/oct/01/dont-pay-the-campaigners-urging-britons-to-strike-over-energy-bills (discussing the history and goals of Don’t Pay UK); Kate Aronoff, Big Energy Bill? Don’t Pay!, New Republic (Aug. 17, 2022), https://newrepublic.com/article/167435/dont-pay-uk-high-energy-bills (same). Drawing inspiration from the successful resistance to Margaret Thatcher’s regressive “poll tax” proposal in the late 1980s and tapping into the growing rage across the country over a deeply entrenched cost-of-living crisis, Don’t Pay UK was betting that if a large enough number of households simply refused to pay their energy bills, suppliers and the government would be forced to respond.2The poll tax sought to replace the existing system of property taxes with a flat, per-capita tax on all individuals regardless of income. See Ella Glover, The History of the Poll Tax and the Power of Direct Action, Huck Mag. (Oct. 6, 2022), https://www.huckmag.com/article/the-history-of-the-poll-tax-and-the-power-of-direct-action [https://perma.cc/L8QK-W3RM] (discussing the history of the poll tax and its influence on the Don’t Pay UK movement).

As of early 2023, more than 250,000 people had signed up; well short of the one million household goal, but a substantial number with thousands engaged in a series of direct public protests, burning their energy bills and demanding action from the government.3See Robert Booth, Britons to Burn Their Bills in Weekend Wave of Cost of Living Protests, Guardian (Oct. 1, 2022), https://www.theguardian.com/world/2022/oct/01/cost-of-living-protests-burn-energy-bills [https://perma.cc/J43B-VD7N]. Together with similar campaigns focused on ending fuel poverty, Don’t Pay UK emerged directly out of the energy and economic crisis in the UK that had reached extreme levels by the second half of 2022. Indeed, by late summer 2022, some seven million households were estimated to be behind on their energy bills, and more than four million had been placed on prepayment meters, which, as the name suggests, require customers to constantly feed special meters in order to keep the lights on.4In February 2023, the UK energy regulator Ofgem launched an investigation of the use of prepayment meters. See Prepayment Rules and Protections: A Call for Evidence, Ofgem (Feb. 21, 2023), https://www.ofgem.gov.uk/publications/prepayment-rules-and-protections-call-evidence [https://perma.cc/M5SG-XWM3]. See also Kerry Hudson, Opinion, The Monster in My Home Was a Meter, and It Decided Whether I Ate and Slept, N.Y. Times (Dec. 30, 2022), https://www.nytimes.com/2022/12/30/opinion/prepayment-meters-uk.html [https://perma.cc/FWQ8-UXPR]. Although the government stepped in with an “Energy Price Guarantee” in September 2022 that capped “typical” household energy bills at £2,500 per year (about $3,000 U.S. dollars), households were still paying double what they had paid the previous winter.5Energy Bills Support Factsheet, U.K. Dep’t for Bus., Energy & Indus. Strategy, (Nov. 1, 2022), https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/energy-bills-support/energy-bills-support-factsheet-8-september-2022 [https://web.archive.org/web/20221129035226/https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/energy-bills-support/energy-bills-support-factsheet-8-september-2022]; see also Paul Bolton & Iona Stewart, Domestic Energy Prices 14 (2024), https://commonslibrary.parliament.uk/research-briefings/cbp-9491 [https://perma.cc/W4G3-YPKM]. The energy price guarantee rose to £3,000 per year in April 2023. Id. at 4. The price shocks of 2022 also squeezed retail providers who were unable to pass along the full costs to their customers. By July 2022, twenty-nine retail providers had failed, requiring expensive government bailouts and the transfer of 2.4 million customers to other providers.6See House of Commons, Bus., Energy, & Indus. Strategy Comm., Energy Pricing and the Future of the Energy Market: Third Report of Session 2022–23 3 (2022), https://committees.parliament.uk/publications/23255/documents/169712/default [https://perma.cc/VD92-3E3U]. Several of these suppliers were too big to fail and had to be bailed out, including Bulb energy to the tune of £4 billion, which was the largest government bailout since the Royal Bank of Scotland bailout during the 2008 financial crisis. Gill Plimmer & David Sheppard, Bulb Energy Bailout to Cost UK Taxpayers £6.5bn, Fin. Times (Nov. 17, 2022), https://www.ft.com/content/2d19da21-b79f-4ee3-8c74-5c61abca7a13 [https://perma.cc/LW46-87HA].

Don’t Pay UK made three essential demands: (1) a reversal of energy utility price increases; (2) an end to the enforcement of prepayment meters; and (3) a social energy tariff that would ensure basic service for low-income households.7See What We’re Striking For, Don’t Pay, https://dontpay.uk/about/what-were-striking-for [https://web.archive.org/web/20230314184227/https://dontpay.uk/about/what-were-striking-for/]. In essence, they wanted a just or fair price for energy and an end to the thirty-plus-year experiment with liberalized markets that had failed to deliver reliable and affordable electricity.8Cf., William Boyd, Just Price, Public Utility, and the Long History of Economic Regulation in America, 35 Yale J. on Reg. 721, 727–29 (2018). Although the energy strike never happened, Don’t Pay UK succeeded in forcing the Government to respond with a package of support for households as well as a broad initiative to rethink and reform energy markets.9 U.K. Dep’t for Bus., Energy & Indus. Strategy, Review of Electricity Market Arrangements: Consultation Document (2022), https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/media/62fa281ee90e076cfe3649ed/review-electricity-market-arrangements.pdf [https://perma.cc/QAB3-XRNF]. As of early 2024, the Government was preparing for a second consultation, with specific proposals for reform expected later in the year. See Answer by Graham Stuart, Question for Department for Energy Security and Net Zero, U.K. Parliament (Jan. 30, 2024), https://questions-statements.parliament.uk/written-questions/detail/2024-01-23/11040 [https://web.archive.org/web/20240514230248/https://questions-statements.parliament.uk/written-questions/detail/2024-01-23/11040]. More importantly, Don’t Pay UK, along with other campaigns like it around the world, has put a vision of energy as a primary social good and system of provisioning squarely on the policy agenda for the first time in at least a generation. The fact that this occurred in the UK is also notable because the UK was one of the first countries to privatize and restructure its electricity sector and has sometimes been held out as the “gold standard” for such efforts.10See, e.g., Paul L. Joskow, Introduction to Electricity Sector Liberalization: Lessons from Cross-Country Studies, in Electricity Market Reform: An International Perspective 8 (Sioshansi & Pfaffenberger eds., 2006) (“In my view, the gold standard for electricity reform is England and Wales . . . .”).

Of course, the energy crisis of the early 2020s was hardly contained to Great Britain. Across Europe and around the world, energy price shocks have decimated household budgets and created substantial economic challenges for businesses and governments. The International Energy Agency has called it the first truly global energy crisis of the twenty-first century, and one has to go back half a century to the oil shocks of the 1970s to find precedent for the impact on domestic politics and world order.11See Int’l Energy Agency, World Energy Outlook 2022 3, 32 (2022), https://iea.blob.core.windows.net/assets/830fe099-5530-48f2-a7c1-11f35d510983/WorldEnergyOutlook2022.pdf [https://perma.cc/VEQ4-PG8W]. Protests over high energy prices rocked cities in Germany, Italy, Spain, and other European countries during the summer and fall of 2022, leading governments to respond with very large aid packages intended to protect businesses and households from the full impact of the price shocks.12See Monthly Update, Household Energy Price Index (Nov. 2022), https://web.archive.org/web/20221108073519/https://www.energypriceindex.com/price-data [https://perma.cc/FP7Y-HFK3]; Anil Ari, Nicolas Arregui, Simon Black, Oya Celasun, Dora Iakova, Aiko Mineshima, Victor Mylonas, Ian Parry, Iulia Teodoru & Karlygash Zhunussova, Surging Energy Prices in Europe in the Aftermath of the War: How to Support the Vulnerable and Speed Up the Transition Away from Fossil Fuels 20 (IMF, Working Paper No. 22/152, 2022); Giovanni Sgaravatti, Simone Tagliapietra, Cecilia Trasi & Georg Zachmann, National Fiscal Policy Responses to the Energy Crisis, Bruegel (June 26, 2023), https://www.bruegel.org/dataset/national-policies-shield-consumers-rising-energy-prices [https://perma.cc/W9UH-3WCQ]. In France, the increase in regulated gas and electricity bills was limited to just 4% in 2022 and 15% in 2023—a reflection of a system built on public ownership, a very significant amount of nuclear power, and the memory of the gilets jaunes fuel price protests of 2018. See Sophie Parsons, How Your Gas and Electricity Bills Will Change in 2023, Connexion (Oct. 26, 2022), https://www.connexionfrance.com/article/Practical/Everyday-Life/How-your-gas-and-electricity-bills-will-change-in-France-in-2023 [https://perma.cc/ZAY4-ZCC8]; see also Renaud Foucart, Energy Crisis: Why French Households are Largely Protected from Soaring Costs While British Families Struggle, Conversation (Aug. 12, 2022), https://theconversation.com/energy-crisis-why-french-households-are-largely-protected-from-soaring-costs-while-british-families-struggle-188417 [https://perma.cc/W53U-K8BL]. The amount of spending by European governments is staggering, close to 7% of GDP in some cases.13See Sgaravatti et. al., supra note 12. One report from June 2023 found that total spending across the EU block was around $700 billion, close to what these governments spent on COVID-19 pandemic relief.14Id. Such numbers, of course, mask the uneven levels of spending across the EU member states, with some countries such as Germany spending far more than others, raising more than a few eyebrows among those who recall Germany’s previous lectures to fellow member states on the virtues of austerity and fiscal responsibility.15Id; see also Emily Rauhala, Rick Noack, Kate Brady & Beatriz Ríos, Germany Takes Heat as E.U. Leaders Meet to Discuss Energy Crisis, Wash. Post (Oct. 7, 2022, 4:21 AM), https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/2022/10/07/eu-energy-crisis-germany-criticism [https://perma.cc/N47Q-98AN]. For governments in the Global South, of course, such spending is pure fantasy given much more limited fiscal capacity and a looming sovereign debt crisis.16David Amaglobeli, Emine Hanedar, Gee Hee Hong & Celine Thevenot, IMF Notes: Fiscal Policy for Mitigating the Social Impact of High Energy and Food Prices 2–3 (2022), https://www.imf.org/en/Publications/IMF-Notes/Issues/2022/06/07/Fiscal-Policy-for-Mitigating-the-Social-Impact-of-High-Energy-and-Food-Prices-519013 [https://perma.cc/SW6U-QLYF].

Although the U.S. did not experience the extreme price shocks affecting Europe and the UK, the substantial increase in exports of liquefied natural gas to Europe to compensate for the loss of Russian gas did lead to significantly higher prices for both natural gas and electricity across the country. In California and New England, for example, customers experienced “European style” price increases during the winter of 2022–23.17See, e.g., Derek Brower & Myles McCormick, New England ‘Importing European Prices’ in Looming Gas Supply Crunch, Fin. Times (Nov. 17, 2022), https://www.ft.com/content/f9374ff4-3bfd-4b5e-8542-58c3db81514b [https://perma.cc/EQ8M-EZER]. High natural gas prices in California during early 2023 prompted the California Public Utilities Commission to open a formal inquiry in March 2023. See Cal. Pub. Utils. Comm’n, Order Instituting Investigation on the Commission’s Own Motion into Natural Gas Prices and Resulting Impacts to Energy Markets (Issued Mar. 20, 2023), https://docs.cpuc.ca.gov/PublishedDocs/Published/G000/M503/K823/503823381.PDF [https://perma.cc/VJ4N-HPLS]. For households in many parts of the country, utility bills more than doubled during the early 2020s, leaving more than twenty million households unable to pay their bills.18Will Wade & Mark Chediak, A Tsunami of Shutoffs: 20 Million US Homes Are Behind on Energy Bills, Bloomberg (Aug. 23, 2022, 5:05 PM), https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2022-08-23/can-t-pay-utility-bills-20-million-us-homes-behind-on-payments-facing-shutoffs [https://perma.cc/AA8A-VZM8]. This has been compounded by the expiration of utility shutoff moratoria during the pandemic, which led to a new round of shutoffs and an army of collections agents chasing down unpaid bills.19Selah Goodson Bell, Jean Su, Matt Kasper, Shelby Green & Christopher Kuveke, Powerless in the United States: How Utilities Drive Shutoffs and Energy Injustice 5, 17 (2023), https://www.biologicaldiversity.org/programs/energy-justice/pdfs/Powerless-in-the-US_Report.pdf [https://perma.cc/876A-4F3Z]. Even before the pandemic, close to a third of U.S. households suffered from chronic energy insecurity—often forced to choose between paying for food or paying for utilities.20In 2020, 27% of U.S. Households had Difficulty Meeting Their Energy Needs, U.S. Energy Info. Admin. (Apr. 11, 2022), https://www.eia.gov/todayinenergy/detail.php?id=51979 [https://perma.cc/AB2L-BWUZ]. It is, needless to say, a damning indictment on any register.

While it has been common to explain these price shocks of the last two years as a supply problem that started in the second half of 2021 and was greatly exacerbated by the Russian invasion of Ukraine, such a view misses important questions about market design and the distinctive ways of price making at the center of natural gas and electricity markets.21See William Boyd, Ways of Price Making and the Challenge of Market Governance in U.S. Energy Law, 105 Minn. L. Rev. 739, 759, 782 (2020) (discussing distinctive ways of price making in natural gas and electricity markets). For electricity in particular, the current crisis has raised fundamental questions about the forty-year project of neoliberal electricity and the viability of current electricity market designs. Prices, in short, have become disconnected from the actual cost of providing electricity, raising basic questions of fairness. As EU President Ursula von der Leyen stated in her September 2022 State of the European Union, “the current electricity market design . . . is not doing justice to consumers anymore.”22Ursula von der Leyen, President, EU, 2022 State of the Union Address (Sept. 14, 2022), https://ec.europa.eu/commission/presscorner/detail/en/speech_22_5493 [https://perma.cc/V3SV-KAT4]. Similar concerns have been raised by UK government officials and by at least one sitting Federal Energy Regulatory Commission (“FERC”) commissioner.23See, e.g., Dep’t for Energy Sec. & Net Zero, supra note 9, at 23 (observing that there is a growing consensus in the UK that current electricity market designs are failing to deliver on decarbonization and affordability); Mark C. Christie, It’s Time to Reconsider Single-Clearing Price Mechanisms in U.S. Energy Markets, 44 Energy L.J. 1, 3 (2023) (“[I]t is timely for the United States to join the UK and EU in a comprehensive reconsideration of the pricing mechanisms used in our power markets and to ask whether those pricing mechanisms can or will, in the future, deliver the best combination of cost savings and reliable power supply to consumers. It is especially timely to ask . . . whether single-clearing price mechanisms are best suited to deliver to consumers all of the potential cost savings from the increasing deployment of heavily subsidized, very low to below-zero marginal-cost resources such as wind and solar.”).

At the center of these concerns is the uniform or single-clearing price auction design used in most electricity markets. As the name suggests, the single-clearing price design sets clearing prices based on the price of the last increment of generation needed to meet demand. All sellers who submit offers below the clearing price receive the clearing price, regardless of their original offer price. This means that when very expensive generators are necessary to meet demand, clearing prices can rise to extreme levels, and all the generators who submitted successful bids will receive that high clearing price regardless of their actual costs. Thus, when natural gas prices rose to unprecedented levels following the Russian invasion of Ukraine, electricity prices followed because natural gas power plants were on the margin setting the clearing price in the electricity markets. These high clearing prices, in turn, delivered substantial windfalls to non-gas generators and caused enormous pain for retail customers.24See Alice Hancock & Barney Jopson, EU Seeks Windfall Tax Threshold for Electricity Groups Well Below Market Rate, Fin. Times (Sept. 7, 2022), https://www.ft.com/content/ab469e2d-8e87-44ee-855b-f46b5b2dd17e [https://perma.cc/HX9L-V5VX]. See generally David Robinson, Oxford Inst. Energy Stud., Current Energy Crises, the Energy Transition and the Design of Electricity Markets (2022).

The single-clearing price design also means that prices in these markets can fluctuate dramatically and are often completely detached from the overall costs of providing electricity. In Texas, for example, a state that has long prided itself on having one of the best designed electricity markets in the world, spot market prices have fluctuated from negative prices—typically at night when demand is low and vast amounts of wind energy are on the system—to $9,000 per megawatt-hour (“MWh”), which was the price cap set by the state’s scarcity pricing mechanism for periods of peak demand.25On the Texas electricity market, which is run by the Electric Reliability Council of Texas or ERCOT, see Parviz Adib, Jay Zarnilau & Ross Baldick, Texas Electricity Market: Getting Better, in Evolution of Global Electricity Markets: New Paradigms, New Challenges, New Approaches 265, 265 (Sioshansi ed., 2013) (observing that the Texas ERCOT market “is frequently cited as North America’s most successful in both generation and retail”). On the range of prices in the Texas ERCOT market, see Potomac Econs., 2022 State of the Market Report for the ERCOT Electricity Markets A-11 (2023), https://www.potomaceconomics.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/05/2022-State-of-the-Market-Report_Final_060623.pdf [https://perma.cc/V36Z-RPET]. See also id. at A-20 (“Negative ERCOT-wide prices may occur when wind is the marginal generation. More installed wind generation and additional transmission infrastructure led to increased occurrences of negative prices over the past few years. In 2022, there were 110 hours with ERCOT-wide prices at or below zero, a decrease from the 176 hours in 2021.”). Wind projects will offer to sell electricity in the spot market at negative prices in order to ensure that they get dispatched so that they can produce and receive the production tax credit. Id.; see also id. at 85 (noting that the price cap under the ERCOT scarcity pricing mechanism was set at $9,000 per megawatt-hour (“MWh”) in 2014 and reduced to $5,000 per MWh in January 2022 after the experience of Winter Storm Uri). Between 2014 and 2022, annual average prices across the entire ERCOT market have fluctuated from a low of $24.62 per MWh in 2016 to a high of $167.88 in 2021, which was largely due to the extreme prices that prevailed during Winter Storm Uri. Id. At 14. Although this kind of volatility might seem exceptional, it is actually hard wired into the logic of these markets and reflects the multi-decade effort to make electricity into a commodity.26See, e.g., Severin Borenstein, The Trouble with Electricity Markets: Understanding California’s Restructuring Disaster, 16 J. Econ. Persps. 191, 191–92 (2002) (discussing various attributes of electricity markets that “necessarily imply that short-term prices for electricity will be extremely volatile”). While that might be good for traders and others who can profit from volatility, it is most assuredly not good for consumers. It is also not good for efforts to create the stable, long-term investment climate needed to scale up decarbonization. In fact, current electricity market designs are incompatible with a future dominated by renewables.27Various commentators, including some of the pioneers of electricity markets, have begun to recognize this over the last several years. See, e.g., Fabien Roques & Dominique Finon, Adapting Electricity Markets to Decarbonization and Security of Supply: Toward a Hybrid Regime, 105 Energy Pol’y 584, 594 (2017); Paul L. Joskow, From Hierarchies to Markets and Partially Back Again in Electricity: Responding to Decarbonization and Security of Supply Goals, 18 J. Institutional Econ. 313, 318 (2022); see also Brett Christophers, The Price Is Wrong: Why Capitalism Won’t Save the Planet xxi-xxii (2024) (arguing that liberalized electricity markets are not capable of delivering sufficient profits and investment stability for renewable electricity generators). Virtually all of these markets were built on the assumption that fossil fuel generators such as natural gas plants with positive short-run marginal costs (that is, fuel costs) would set the clearing price. A renewables-dominated electricity system does not work under such a market design for the simple reason that renewable electricity such as wind and solar do not have any short-run marginal costs. The uncertainty that this creates for renewables projects in terms of their ability to recover their fixed capital costs is one reason why virtually all renewables in markets around the world are compensated through some form of long-term contract with price terms that make them indifferent to market clearing prices.28Roques & Finon, supra note 27, at 586.

Electricity markets have also failed to deliver on the one metric for which they were supposed to be vastly superior to regulation: lower prices for consumers. Indeed, even as efficiencies have improved and wholesale costs have declined across these markets, retail prices have increased as generators and electricity providers have been able to capture the gains in performance while also pursuing substantial price markups, demonstrating the stubborn fact of market power in electricity.29See, e.g., Alexander MacKay & Ignacia Mercadal, Do Markets Reduce Prices? Evidence from the U.S. Electricity Sector 3–4, 24 (March 30, 2024) (unpublished manuscript), https://ssrn.com/abstract=3793305 [https://perma.cc/JX3F-RE6Z] (documenting “that electric deregulation in the U.S. yielded higher wholesale prices, despite declines in generation costs,” that the growing spread between wholesale prices and costs was consistent with the exercise of market power, and that these higher wholesale prices were in turn passed on to consumers in the form of higher retail prices). MacKay and Mercadal base their conclusions on an extensive dataset that for the first time includes purchases via bilateral contracts and through centralized markets, allowing them to develop a more comprehensive picture of upstream and downstream prices in electricity markets and to compare these prices to those in regulated states. Id. at 1–2, 9–16. Their conclusion is unambiguous:

We find that restructuring lead to sharp increases in wholesale prices despite reductions in marginal fuel costs, such that generation facilities were able to charge prices at substantial margins above costs. We show that this can explain a large portion of the increase in retail rates after the restructuring of the electricity sector.

Id. at 34.
This exercise of market power, moreover, has not been limited to periods of scarcity, when generation capacity is most constrained, but appears to be pervasive in these markets.30Id. at 26 (“The finding that wholesale prices increased while costs remained constant or decreased, and thus that the wedge between them went up, indicates that firms were increasingly able to set price above marginal cost. The most natural explanation for this is limited competition and market power . . . . At an annual level, we find substantial margin increases over the costs of the most expensive power plants. Thus, our findings suggest that market power may be a broad phenomenon.”). Notwithstanding the claims (and hopes) of the proponents of deregulation that the new electricity markets would be contestable, they have remained concentrated on the supply side, which has translated into ongoing pricing power for wholesale generators.31See infra Section II.A.

In sum, the electricity markets that were adopted in the U.S. and around the world over the last several decades have not been able to deliver savings to consumers. They have not been able to ensure security of supply, and they are not delivering renewable energy and other clean energy assets at the scale that is needed. While these markets have led to improved performance and efficiency for some existing assets, it is no longer feasible or appropriate to view the power sector as simply another legacy infrastructure industry in need of market discipline. It is now the chief instrument of decarbonization for most economies in the world, a project that entails a very different set of technologies with very different cost structures than those used as the basis for designing these markets in the 1980s and 1990s and one that will also involve much more extensive use of electricity in everyday life.

Put another way, given the radical shifts in the goals, underlying technologies, and cost structures of the power sector, it is increasingly clear that electricity markets are no longer fit for purpose. The vast subsidies available for renewable energy, clean energy manufacturing, and electric vehicles (among others) in the Inflation Reduction Act (“IRA”) do not change this in any fundamental way. If anything, the IRA’s core strategy of de-risking private investment in clean energy through tax credits accepts the status quo of markets and builds on the financialized approach to renewable energy that has dominated U.S. federal renewables policy since the early 1990s.32See, e.g., Sarah Knuth, Rentiers of the Low-Carbon Economy? Renewable Energy’s Extractive Fiscal Geographies, 55 Env’t & Planning A: Econ. & Space 1548, 1557–60 (2023) (discussing recent history of tax credit financing for renewable energy in the U.S.); Daniela Gabor, The (European) Derisking State 18 (May 17, 2023) (unpublished manuscript), https://osf.io/preprints/socarxiv/hpbj2 [https://perma.cc/2U72-MJDS] (“The US IRA organises the state relationship with private capital through a derisking logic.”). To be sure, the IRA’s direct pay and transferability provisions do open up possibilities for alternative forms of project finance and ownership, including by governments and non-profit entities.33See Elective Payment of Applicable Credits, 89 Fed. Reg. 17546 (Mar. 11, 2024) (to be codified at 26 C.F.R. pts. 1, 301), https://www.federalregister.gov/documents/2024/03/11/2024-04604/elective-payment-of-applicable-credits-elective-payment-of-advanced-manufacturing-investment-credit [https://perma.cc/S7V3-UJQD] (providing guidance for IRA direct pay provisions); Transfer of Certain Credits, 89 Fed. Reg. 34770 (Apr. 30, 2024) (to be codified at 26 C.F.R. pt. 1), https://www.federalregister.gov/documents/2024/04/30/2024-08926/transfer-of-certain-credits [https://perma.cc/463S-2SED] (providing guidance for IRA transferability provisions); see also Gabor, supra note 32, at 23–24 (observing that the IRA direct pay provisions may constitute an important step toward more public ownership and control, “but the extent to which state ownership will replace public subsidies for private capital remains an open question of political struggle”). But the main thrust of the legislation is to lure private capital into clean energy by reducing the risk of investment, leaving the basic design and regulation of electricity markets intact. Thus, while the legislation is unprecedented in the scale and scope of investment that it could generate, and while it may well be the case that the IRA is the best that clean energy advocates could have hoped for given the demands of budget reconciliation and the highly polarized nature of our politics, it does beg the question whether other approaches will be needed in addition to the IRA to channel investment into new clean energy assets at the scale and pace required to decarbonize the power sector and electrify large segments of the economy. It also poses the broader question of what this heavy reliance on markets and the private sector means for the overall governance of electricity as a system of provisioning and vital infrastructure for everyday life.

One alternative that has been advanced by critics of the IRA’s de-risking strategy is the so-called Big Green State marked by predominantly public investment and public ownership of clean energy assets.34See Gabor, supra note 32, at 25 (“The green capitalist state in the Global North is a derisking state.”); Daniela Gabor & Benjamin Braun, Green Macrofinancial Regimes 3–4 (Oct. 21, 2023) (unpublished manuscript), https://osf.io/preprints/socarxiv/4pkv8 [https://perma.cc/QUJ2-DBQK] (identifying the “big green state” as one of four “green macrofinancial regimes” that “coordinates economic activity through state-led planning, prioritises public investment in both green infrastructure and green industrial sectors by tightening monetary-fiscal coordination, and closely controls private credit flows”). This was part of the impulse behind some versions of the Green New Deal in the United States and the so-called European Green Deal.35See Gabor & Braun, supra note 34, at 4; see also Ronnie Belmans, Ilaria Conti, Albert Ferrari, Giulio Galdi, Leigh Hancher, James Kneebone, Leonardo Meeus, Athir Nouicer, Maria Olczak, Andris Piebalgs, Alberto Pototschnig, Valerie Reif, Daniele Stampatori & Tim Schittekatte, European Univ. Inst., The EU Green Deal 10–12 (2022), https://cadmus.eui.eu/handle/1814/75156 [https://perma.cc/LS43-3CV8]; Sean Sweeney, Beyond Recovery: The Global Green New Deal and Public Ownership Of Energy 9 (Trade Unions for Energy Democracy, Working Paper No. 16, 2023), https://assets-global.website-files.com/63276dc4e6b803208bf159df/64f1f5676c56f498e152e5ba_TUED_WP16_final%20(2).pdf [https://perma.cc/P52Y-5UV6]. To be sure, there is precedent for significant state ownership of electricity in the nationalized systems that prevailed in the UK and many European countries after World War II, across much of the Global South after independence, as well as in the United States with its large public hydropower projects, regional experiments such as the Tennessee Valley Authority, and municipally owned utilities. Despite the enthusiasm on the left for extensive public ownership, however, it seems at best aspirational in the current U.S. political environment, notwithstanding important ongoing efforts to build on and promote more public investment and ownership across the electricity sector.

But there is another alternative that has not received much attention in the current debate: U.S.-style public utility regulation with its reliance on cost-of-service rate making for regulated investor-owned utilities (“IOUs”). This model, which still operates in various ways across some parts of the United States, has long provided a vehicle for channeling large amounts of capital into physical assets as well as a platform for important experiments with new rate designs to socialize costs and to improve access and affordability.36See William Boyd, Public Utility and the Low-Carbon Future, 61 UCLA L. Rev. 1614, 1683–99 (2014) (discussing the role of public utility regulation in planning and investment in low carbon infrastructure); William Boyd & Ann E. Carlson, Accidents of Federalism: Ratemaking and Policy Innovation in Public Utility Law, 63 UCLA L. Rev. 810, 844–61 (2016) (discussing the role of public utility rate regulation in promoting low-carbon baseload generation and grid modernization). Without question, the basic public utility model in the U.S. has had its share of challenges, leading to intense criticism and repeated calls for reform and even wholesale abandonment. But in the current moment, given the need to significantly ramp-up investments in long-lived physical assets and secure a low cost of capital, it seems important to revisit the public utility model and ask what role it might play in the ongoing effort to decarbonize the power sector and electrify much of the rest of the economy.37See Boyd, supra note 36, at 1618–19.

To say, then, that the forty-year experiment with electricity markets has failed is hardly a sufficient rejoinder to the question of what is to be done in the face of the looming climate crisis and the pressing need to address the twin challenges of investment and affordability at the heart of the clean energy transition. Before we turn to the question of where we might be headed, however, it is critical to understand how and why these markets emerged in the first place, and the nature of their failures. Put simply, we need to understand the multi-decade effort to make electricity into a commodity before we can understand the different ways in which it can be and already is being decommodified.

Given the rather large and longstanding literatures on commodification and decommodification in law and social science, it is important to specify here the way that this Article uses these concepts.38Karl Marx famously began his investigation of the capitalist mode of production with a close analysis of the commodity form, the immense accumulation of commodities in capitalist society, and the way that the “fetishism of commodities” obscured the exploitation of labor and the production of surplus value. See Karl Marx, Capital Volume I: The Process of Production of Capital 43–87 (Frederick Engels ed., 1867). This has in turn given rise to a massive literature on commodities, commodification, and value theory under capitalism, which is well beyond the scope of this Article. See generally Derek Hall, ‘Commodification of Everything’ Arguments in the Social Sciences: Variants, Specification, Evaluation, Critique, 55 Env’t & Planning A: Econ. & Space 544 (2023) (reviewing various arguments regarding commodification in the social sciences). Within law, there is an extensive normative literature on the effects (and limits) of commodification on personhood and the prospects for human flourishing. See generally Margaret Jane Radin, Contested Commodities (1996). And there is a large and growing literature on the commodification of nature (and its limits), much of which traces back to Karl Polanyi’s notion of fictitious commodities. See Karl Polanyi, The Great Transformation: The Political and Economic Origins of Our Time 68–76 (1944) (observing that land, labor, and money are not truly commodities and that the extension of market logics to these “fictitious commodities” results in the degradation and destruction of the substance of society, which then manifests as crisis); see also Nancy Fraser, Can Society be Commodities All the Way Down? Post-Polanyian Reflections on Capitalist Crisis, in The Common Growl: Toward A Poetics of Precarious Community 139, 155–56 (Thomas Claviez ed., 2016). Brett Christophers argues that electricity should be viewed as a fictious commodity like land and labor because it was not originally produced for the market and that this is the source of many of the current problems with electricity markets. See Christophers, supra note 27, at 361–64. While these arguments are beyond the scope of this Article, it is not clear that electricity, like other energy carriers and unlike land and labor, cannot be produced as a commodity (as it has been for many decades), notwithstanding the fact that the underlying technologies and cost structures may render certain market structures problematic. And, of course, the question whether it is actually desirable to subject electricity to various market arrangements would seem to depend more on one’s underlying normative commitments regarding electricity as a system of provisioning rather than something inherent in the nature of electricity. At a general level, the effort to make electricity into a commodity can be seen as an effort to replace existing non-market modes of governing a key system of provisioning with a privatized, market-governed system of coordination.39A recent opinion from the D.C. Circuit illustrates the point for the United States. See Vistra Corp. v. FERC, No. 21-1214, slip op. at 5 (D.C. Cir. Aug. 15, 2023) (“Although today electricity is a commodity often bought and sold in a decentralized system, that was not always the case.”). More specifically, the entire effort was expressly conceived and directed at making electricity into a commodity like natural gas, oil, or other bulk commodities, with a mix of forward and spot markets, and a pricing system built around marginal cost. There were two important components to this effort that are important to keep in mind. First, on the upstream, wholesale side of the industry, the vertically integrated structures of existing state-owned and heavily regulated systems were unbundled and replaced with competition among private, unregulated generators through a mix of long-term forward markets and short-term spot markets. These markets were explicitly designed to operate in a manner like those prevailing in other commodity markets, with the single-clearing price in the auctions intended to capture the short-run marginal cost of producing the last increment of supply needed to meet demand. Although the effort has never been completely realized, in part given the distinctive challenges of electricity, the establishment of wholesale markets for electricity does represent a remarkable socio-technical achievement. Second, on the downstream, retail side of the industry, the goal was to replace the previous model of dedicated customers paying flat rates to regulated monopoly providers based on average costs with competition among retail providers and dynamic retail rates that would transmit the clearing prices in the wholesale markets directly to retail customers, thereby allowing the price system to deploy true marginal cost pricing all the way through to the end users. For reasons discussed in more detail below, this effort has also been partial and incomplete. The key point for now, though, is to underscore that the basic idea at the center of both wholesale and retail electricity restructuring was to create markets that would allow for the exchange of electricity between producers and consumers via pricing mechanisms based on marginal costs.

The Article proceeds in three parts. First, it provides a brief global genealogy of “neoliberal electricity” that shows how the project of privatization and restructuring emerged and spread around the world, focusing on the intellectual, technical, and political histories that came together to support the move to electricity markets. The goal here is to show how various neoliberal experiments sought to turn electricity into a commodity and the consequences this brought forth. Second, the Article demonstrates how these efforts to create markets for electricity have struggled with persistent challenges of market power, chronic underinvestment, high prices, and an inability to support renewable energy at scale. The main takeaway here is that these markets have failed on multiple grounds and are no longer viable as electricity becomes the main instrument of decarbonization in most economies around the world and as more and more aspects of everyday life are electrified. Third, the Article articulates some of the features of what an alternative, decommodified approach to electricity might look like as the clean energy transition accelerates, focusing specifically on the relationship between capital and infrastructure and the possibilities (old and new) for driving investment and cost recovery, the need for “social ratemaking” to ensure access and affordability, and the potential for a more cooperative approach to balancing the system as intermittent renewables come to dominate the supply of electricity.

The Article draws inspiration from recent work traveling under the rubric of law and political economy as well as some of its precursors in legal realism and the old institutional economics.40See, e.g., Jedediah Britton-Purdy, David Singh Grewal, Amy Kapczynski & K. Sabeel Rahman, Building a Law-and-Political-Economy Framework: Beyond the Twentieth-Century Synthesis, 129 Yale L.J. 1784, 1790–94 (2020) (arguing for a new “law-and-political economy” approach to legal scholarship built on a reorientation from twentieth-century concerns with efficiency, neutrality, and anti-politics toward power, equality, and democracy); Yochai Benkler, Structure and Legitimation in Capitalism: Law, Power, and Justice in Market Society 18 (Oct. 26, 2023) (unpublished manuscript), https://ssrn.com/abstract=4614192 [https://perma.cc/3LBN-CW6J] (“At the broadest level, we can think of law as one of the primary systems modern capitalist societies use to structure social relations of production by institutionalizing market dependence for subsistence, production, and protection, and structuring the patterns and terms of coordinated collective action.”); Robert Lee Hale, Bargaining, Duress, and Economic Liberty, 43 Colum. L. Rev. 603, 625–626 (1943) (“The market value of a property or a service is merely a measure of the strength of the bargaining power of the person who owns the one or renders the other, under the particular legal rights with which the law endows him, and the legal restrictions which it places on others.”); John R. Commons, Institutional Economics, 26 Am. Econ. Rev. 237, 242 (1936) (“[I]nstitutional economics is the field of the public interest in private ownership . . . .”). It also focuses specifically on a set of questions and concerns that have long preoccupied the fields of public utility and regulated industries law but have recently been revived and updated in the context of a new cross-sectoral approach to economic regulation known as networks, platforms, and utilities (“NPU”) law.41See generally Morgan Ricks, Ganesh Sitaraman, Shelley Welton & Lev Menand, Networks, Platforms, and Utilities: Law and Policy (2022) (providing an overview of NPU law). The key concern is to understand not so much how law regulates economic actors but how it structures industries and shapes markets; that is, how it constitutes distributional struggles over the design, maintenance, and restructuring of economic institutions and, specifically, those governing key infrastructures and systems of provisioning.42See Benkler, supra note 40, at 18–26 (discussing how law structures social relations of production in modern capitalist society both functionally via the assignment of different entitlements and disentitlements to various groups and symbolically through various processes of legitimation). Much of this work, particularly in law and political economy, has focused on critiques of neoliberalism, and much of it has been domestic in orientation. This Article joins in the critique of neoliberalism, as manifest in the move to privatize and deregulate electricity over the last forty years, but it does so in a broader global context that seeks to properly situate the project of neoliberal electricity in all of its world-making ambitions. It also attempts to go beyond critique and offers some normative arguments regarding a new set of institutional arrangements for the coming age of electricity.43Cf. Dieter Helm & Cameron Hepburn, The Age of Electricity, 35 Oxford Rev. Econ. Pol’y 183, 186 (2019) (“In sum, for powerful reasons both on the demand and the supply side, an age of electricity now appears to be inevitable. The only question is the pace of change. It will not be stopped by policy errors, but could be accelerated by sensible interventions. And acceleration matters enormously for the environment.”).

I.  NEOLIBERAL ELECTRICITY: A SHORT HISTORY

The move to restructure and liberalize both state-owned and heavily regulated electricity systems reflected a confluence of factors taking shape across multiple countries starting in the 1980s. The story played out differently in different places, given that the electricity sector, like other network industries, has always been place-bound and heavily domestic in orientation. But electricity, and neoliberal electricity in particular, has a global history that is important to understand as the industry transitions to a low-carbon future.

Recognizing that this history can be told in different ways, this Part focuses on three major strands that came together in the making of neoliberal electricity. First, a powerful and sustained economic critique directed at state-owned and heavily regulated public utility systems hit full stride in the 1970s and 1980s and provided an intellectual call-to-arms for efforts to privatize and liberalize electricity markets. Second, a series of innovations in mechanism design, operations research, and experimental economics provided the basic rules and techniques used to build the auctions that operate at the center of these markets. Third, domestic political developments that often reached to the very highest levels of government opened new policy horizons for ambitious market experiments in leading jurisdictions.

A.  Intellectual Commitments

Two important intellectual developments underwrote the move to privatize and restructure electricity. First, the powerful and sustained critique of economic regulation and state ownership that took shape during the 1970s provided the theoretical and normative case for the move to competitive markets. Second, the rich tradition of thinking about the challenges of marginal cost pricing for public utilities, and electricity in particular, led to a reconceptualization of the role of prices in the sector and their relationship to investment, cost recovery, and consumer behavior.

1.  Economic Critiques

The standard critique of economic regulation advanced by economists and public choice theorists starting in the early 1970s has been well rehearsed.44Boyd, supra note 36, at 1651–58 (discussing law and economics critique of rate regulation); David Spence, Can Law Manage Competitive Energy Markets?, 93 Cornell L. Rev. 765, 771–72 (2008) (discussing economic critiques of rate regulation as a basis for restructuring). Boiled down to its essentials, the critique consisted of three main points. First, the whole category of natural monopoly was unstable and incoherent and not a proper basis for regulation.45See, e.g., Harold Demsetz, Why Regulate Utilities?, 11 J.L. & Econ. 55, 59 (1968) (“The natural monopoly theory provides no logical basis for monopoly prices. The theory is illogical. Moreover, for the general case of public utility industries, there seems no clear evidence that the cost of colluding is significantly lower than it is for industries for which unregulated market competition seems to work. To the extent that utility regulation is based on the fear of monopoly price, merely because one firm will serve each market, it is not based on any deducible economic theorem.”); Richard A. Posner, Natural Monopoly and its Regulation, 21 Stan. L. Rev. 548, 635 (1969) (“Our analysis of proposals for reforming public utility regulation confirms our preliminary conclusion that its contribution to social and economic welfare is very possibly negative. The benefits of regulation are dubious, not only because the evils of natural monopoly are exaggerated but also because the effectiveness of regulation in controlling them is highly questionable.”). Second, Public Utility Commissions (“PUCs”) were all too often captured by the industries they were supposed to regulate.46See George J. Stigler, The Theory of Economic Regulation, 2 Bell J. Econ. & Mgmt. Sci. 3, 3 (1971) (“[A]s a rule, regulation is acquired by the industry and is designed and operated primarily for its benefit.”); see also Jim Rossi, Public Choice, Energy Regulation and Deregulation, in Research Handbook on Public Choice and Public Law 419, 421–22 (Daniel A. Farber & Anne Joseph O’Connell eds., 2010) (discussing the capture theory of regulation advanced by Stigler and others and its applicability to electricity regulation). Third, cost-of-service rate making created incentives for regulated firms to overinvest in physical assets and overcharge ratepayers.47See Harvey Averch & Leland L. Johnson, Behavior of the Firm Under Regulatory Constraint, 52 Am. Econ. Rev. 1052, 1068 (1962) (concluding that firms operating under rate-of-return constraint of price control have an incentive to substitute capital for other factors of production “in an uneconomic fashion that is difficult for the regulatory agency to detect”). Their thesis has since been memorialized as the Averch-Johnson effect. The combined effect of these critiques was simple and devastating: regulation did more harm than good.48See, e.g., Posner, supra note 45, at 625 (“[T]he social gain from public utility and common carrier regulation is quite possibly negative.”).

While the economic critique focused mainly on U.S. public utility regulation, it shared many of the basic commitments that animated the growing skepticism toward nationalized industries in the UK and other countries. These critiques of state ownership often rested on relatively simple complaints that state-owned enterprises were bloated and inefficient, but they drew upon a deeper hostility to planning and a conviction that unfettered markets were essential to a free society.49See Stephen C. Littlechild, The Fallacy of the Mixed Economy: An Austrian Critique of Recent Economic Thinking and Policy 53–56 (1986); Friedrich A. Hayek, The Road to Serfdom 43–46 (1944). Without the discipline of competition, performance suffered, innovation was stunted, service was poor, the public paid too much, and individuals would never realize their full economic potential.50It is worth noting here that Hayek himself recognized that planning was an important response to some of the problems and complexities generated by modern industrial society, including public utilities. See Hayek, supra note 49, at 48 (noting that problems associated with town planning and “public utilities” were of the type “not adequately solved by competition”).

As powerful as these criticisms were, however, they did not provide an obvious blueprint for restructuring.51In some respects, the move to deregulate and restructure various industries cut against the basic tenets of public choice theory, given the incumbents’ preference to maintain the status quo. In fact, the real “theory” of restructuring that underwrote liberalized electricity markets came not from the Chicago school or the enemies of state ownership but from work on contestable markets.52See, e.g., Elizabeth E. Bailey & William J. Baumol, Deregulation and the Theory of Contestable Markets, 1 Yale J. on Reg. 111, 123–24 (1984) (discussing implications of theory of contestable markets for deregulation). Much of the basic theory of contestable markets was developed during the first half of the 1980s, in part as a reflection of and rationale for the broad deregulation movement that was already underway. But see also Paul L. Joskow & Richard Schmalensee, Markets for Power: An Analysis of Electric Utility Deregulation 211–21 (1983) (arguing against the simple application of models of deregulation to electricity and in favor of a more measured, long-term approach to regulatory and structural reform of the industry). As the name suggests, contestable markets posited that as long as firms could enter and exit a market with relative ease to compete with the incumbents, this would discipline the prices charged by the incumbents even if no competing firm ever actually decided to enter and compete.53Bailey & Baumol, supra note 52, at 137 (“If particular markets are readily contested, there may be no need for continued intervention in these markets.”). Put another way, as long as the market was contestable, prices could be expected to track those one would expect to see in a competitive market.54Id. at 113 (noting that in contestable markets, efforts to raise prices and capture monopoly rents will be undermined by new entrants). Thus, instead of focusing on the number of firms and the structure of the market, contestable market theory directed attention to barriers to entry and, even more importantly, barriers to exit, which together determined whether a particular market, even one marked by only a few firms, was contestable.55Id. (“[F]reedom of entry and exit are the key requirements of contestability.”). And the key to understanding barriers to exit, the proponents argued, was sunk costs.56Id. (discussing barriers to exit); see also Richard E. Caves & Michael E. Porter, Barriers to Exit, in Essays on Industrial Organization in Honor of Joe S. Bain 39, 39 (Robert T. Masson & P. David Qualls eds., 1976) (proposing consideration of barriers to exit “as an element of market structure and ex ante determinant of market conduct and (thereby) performance”). In effect, barriers to exit operate as implicit barriers to entry in that they increase the risks associated with entry. Even if a firm could enter the market easily, if it had to make large investments that could not be easily recouped, it would be far less likely to enter in the first place.57Bailey & Baumol, supra note 52, at 113–14 (discussing impact of sunk costs on entry and exit decisions of firms and the resulting degree of market contestability).

These insights were powerful and well-timed, providing further grounds on which to indict various forms of economic regulation and state ownership while also offering clear guidance for restructuring.58See, e.g., Herbert Hovenkamp, The Opening of American Law: Neoclassical Legal Thought, 1870–1970 (2014) (“Deregulation gathered momentum because new theories about the nature of competition and industry structure combined with the lessons from experience and a terrible economy to convince policymakers that deregulation was worth a try.”). For starters, contestable market theory highlighted the fact that regulation often made things worse precisely because it erected new or additional barriers to entry.59Bailey & Baumol, supra note 52, at 123 (“Direct regulatory attempts to impede entry or exit or to interfere with the timing or manner of entry must, at the very least, be questioned severely.”). Here the monopoly franchise for public utilities in the United States was often held out as Exhibit A.60Id.; Demsetz, supra note 45; see also Joshua C. Macey, Zombie Energy Laws, 73 Vand. L. Rev. 1077, 1093 (2020). More generally, contestable market theory suggested that vertically integrated industries—whether regulated or state owned—could be unbundled, allowing certain segments to be subjected to competition. Finally, for those segments that did entail high sunk costs—pipeline infrastructure, transmission systems, and local distribution networks—moving toward an open access, common carrier model that would maintain regulation but require all firms to have access to the basic infrastructure on the same rates, terms, and conditions would avoid some of the problems of regulation while further enhancing the contestability of linked markets.61Bailey & Baumol, supra note 52, at 124. Taken together, these elements provided the blueprint for unbundling generation from transmission and distribution, imposing new open-access requirements on transmission, and opening up the wholesale generation market to competition.62In the U.S., restructuring of wholesale markets was accomplished mainly through Orders 636 for natural gas and Order 888 for electricity. See Pipeline Service Obligations and Revisions to Regulations Governing Self-Implementing Transportation & Regulation of Natural Gas Pipelines After Partial Wellhead Decontrol, 59 FERC 61,030 (1992) (unbundling natural gas pipeline business and imposing open-access regime for interstate transportation of natural gas); Promoting Wholesale Competition Through Open Access Non-Discriminatory Transmission Services by Public Utilities and Recovery of Stranded Costs by Public Utilities and Transmitting Utilities, 75 FERC 61,080 (1996) (summarizing final rules requiring unbundling and open-access nondiscriminatory transmission services in order to promote competitive wholesale power markets). The working assumption was that the new wholesale power markets would be sufficiently contestable to ensure competitive prices, an assumption that, as we will see, proved overly optimistic.

2.  Marginal Cost Pricing

Any effort to create new markets for electricity, however, also had to sort out complex issues of price formation. Given the engineering complexities of electric power systems (namely, the fact that the system operated as one big machine that had to be perfectly balanced in real time), highly inelastic demand, and the inability to store electricity, the transactional and pricing aspects of any new market would need to be carefully orchestrated.63See Philip F. Schwew, The Grid: A Journey Through the Heart of Our Electrified World 1 (2007) (“Taken in its entirety, the grid is a machine, the most complex machine ever made.”) Boyd, supra note 36, at 1626–28 (discussing the distinctive features of electric power systems). Realizing the efficiencies that markets promised, in other words, required a solution to the problem of marginal cost pricing that had preoccupied economists, engineers, and regulators for more than a century.

The idea of marginal cost pricing for public infrastructure is often traced back to the mid-nineteenth-century work of Jules Dupuit and other French engineer-economists working in the French civil service.64See Robert B. Ekelund & Robert F. Hebert, Secret Origins of Modern Microeconomics: Dupuit and the Engineers 178 (1999). See generally Robert B. Ekelund, Jules Dupuit and the Early Theory of Marginal Cost Pricing, 76 J. Pol. Econ. 462 (1968). Among other things, Dupuit and his colleagues were looking for ways to assess the relative value of different infrastructure investments—roads, bridges, canals, railroads—so as to better allocate resources and maximize welfare.65Ekelund & Hebert, supra note 64, at 181. Ekelund and Hebert argue that Dupuit did not explicitly endorse marginal cost pricing for large infrastructure and so-called public works

as many have suggested. See id.
In the process, they identified some of the key challenges confronting efforts to develop efficient pricing for large infrastructure and public utilities.66Id.

Among the most important issues raised by this work involved setting prices for industries marked by declining costs. If prices were set at short-run marginal costs in these industries, firms would be unable to recover their fixed costs.67See, e.g., J.M. Clark, Toward a Concept of Workable Competition, 30 Am. Econ. Rev. 241, 250 (1940) (“A price which at all times covers only short-run marginal cost would lead to large operating deficits whenever demand is short of capacity, and would bankrupt most industries, no matter how shock-proof their capital structures.”). In an important 1938 article, Harold Hotelling took this problem head-on arguing that the best way to maximize “the general welfare” with respect to infrastructure investments marked by declining costs was for the government to use taxes on income, inheritances, and land to pay for the fixed (overhead) costs of the physical assets and to charge the public a price that was set at marginal cost, which in the case of most infrastructure would be very low or even zero.68See generally Harold Hotelling, The General Welfare in Relation to Problems of Taxation and of Railway and Utility Rates, 6 Econometrica 242 (1938). Hotelling was a lifelong admirer of Henry George and much of his proposal can be read as an application of Georgist rent theory. According to Hotelling, two groups would be likely to object to such a scheme: the wealthy and land speculators.69Id. at 259. But any losses they incurred would be more than offset by the benefits accruing to the public at large.70Id. at 257–60.

Hotelling’s intervention, which explicitly invoked Dupuit’s earlier work, gave rise to a vigorous debate among economists during the 1940s and 1950s about the merits of marginal cost pricing in industries with declining costs—an episode that Ronald Coase referred to as “the marginal cost controversy.”71Id. at 242 (characterizing his argument as an effort to update Dupuit’s earlier arguments that “the optimum of the general welfare corresponds to the sale of everything at marginal cost”). Ekelund & Hebert, supra note 64, at 182–83, argue that Hotelling was mistaken in his suggestion that Dupuit’s analysis was an early example of marginal cost pricing. See generally R.H. Coase, The Marginal Cost Controversy, 13 Economica 169 (1946); Brett M. Frischmann & Christiann Hogendorn, Retrospectives: The Marginal Cost Controversy, 29 J. Econ. Persps. 193 (2015). In Coase’s view, Hotelling’s proposed solution of using tax revenues to pay for the fixed costs of infrastructure and public utility was misguided because it would create a “maldistribution of the factors of production” across the economy, an unwelcome “redistribution of income” among different classes, and “other harmful effects.”72Coase, supra note 71, at 174. Coase returned to many of these criticisms in a 1970 article on public utility pricing. See generally R.H. Coase, The Theory of Public Utility Pricing and Its Application, 1 Bell J. Econ. & Mgmt. Sci. 113 (1970). Most fundamentally, tax-based subsidies would deny the possibility of any sort of “market test” to determine whether the proposed investment was “worthwhile.”73See William Vickrey, Some Objections to Marginal-Cost Pricing, 56 J. Pol. Econ. 218, 218 (1948) (“One of the leading objections to the marginal-cost pricing policy for decreasing-cost industries is that the admitted necessity for a subsidy leaves no simple and obvious test of whether or not the project is worth while as a whole.”). Vickrey goes on to argue that this objection is less salient than many suggest and that the alternatives are rarely better. See id. at 219; see also Frischmann & Hogendorn, supra note 71, at 198 (“Subsidized marginal cost pricing . . . eliminates or at least truncates signals about demand for infrastructure, significantly reducing the information available for investment decisions about how much infrastructure to build, where to build it, when to add capacity, and so on.”). A better solution, Coase argued, was to use a multipart pricing scheme that included separate charges for the marginal cost of producing the good or service and for the cost of delivering it—an approach that was already well developed in public utility pricing.74Coase, supra note 71, at 173–74. As Coase noted, this type of multi-part pricing was “well known to students of public utilities.” Id. For early discussions of multipart pricing, see generally C.L. Paine, Some Aspects of Discrimination by Public Utilities, 4 Economica 425 (1937); W. Arthur Lewis, The Two-Part Tariff, 8 Economica 249 (1941). But see Vickrey, supra note 73, at 237 (pointing to various challenges facing efforts to implement multi-part pricing and noting that such schemes were often inferior in practice to a scheme of marginal cost pricing combined with tax-based subsidies). With respect to Coase’s proposed scheme of multipart pricing, in particular, Vickrey concluded:

[T]his device [multi-part pricing] can achieve the desired result in but a limited number of cases, and, in many of these cases, success in achieving the optimum allocation of resources may require information of the same order as that required to determine whether or not the project as a whole is worthwhile under a policy of uniform marginal-cost prices.

Id. at 219.

At roughly the same time that Coase and others were debating the merits of marginal cost pricing, another group of French engineer-economists working at Electricité de France (“EDF”) (the most prominent of whom was Marcel Boiteux) were developing their own version of marginal cost pricing in their effort to rebuild the French electricity system after World War II.75See generally Guillaume Yon, Building a National Machine: The Pricing of Electricity in Postwar France, 52 Hist. Pol. Econ. 245 (2020). In particular, Boiteux and his colleagues were interested in incorporating marginal costs into the rates charged for electricity in a manner that would allow them to build a national electricity system that contained an appropriate mix of thermal and hydroelectric power plants in the face of rapidly growing demand.76See Marcel Boiteux, Electrical Energy: Facts, Problems, and Prospects, in Marginal Cost Pricing in Practice 3, 6–7 (James R. Nelson ed., 1964) (discussing EDF’s “hydro-thermal problem” as a problem of investment and pricing). According to Boiteux, prices were not simply signals but rather tools to realize an investment policy.77Id.; see also Yon, supra note 75, at 251 (“[L]ong-term marginal costs, and the prices deduced from these costs, would be defined as a response to an investment plan, a dispatch (the movements of energy through the grid), and a concerted forecast of the future load profile. Prices were to be designed to trigger the users’ behaviors that would support and be adapted to the realization of an equipment plan (the construction of new plants). Long-term marginal cost pricing considered consumers central components of a machine under development, to whom instructions were transmitted through prices.”);

Paul L. Joskow, Contributions to the Theory of Marginal Cost Pricing, 7 Bell J. Econ. 197, 199 (1976) (“The French are especially cognizant of the relationship between pricing policy and investment policy in the context of efficient operation of a public enterprise.”).
Peak-load prices that reflected the system’s marginal cost could thus be used to help mold and shape the “load curve” (a term of art for electricity demand over the course of the day or the year), thereby allowing for the efficient investment of capital into certain kinds of physical assets as determined by system planners.78See Boiteux, supra note 76, at 28 (“This new rate structure for high-voltage sales, which will soon be followed by a reform of low-voltage tariffs, is designed to direct the free choices of users toward the types and methods of use which are most advantageous to the country.”). The price system, in other words, was subordinated to, and made to work on behalf of, the need for infrastructure to support the national objective of building an electric power system based on a particular mix of assets.79Marcel Boiteux, Peak-Load Pricing, in Marginal Cost Pricing in Practice 59, 84 (James R. Nelson ed., 1964) (“[T]he very fact of making peak consumers pay what their consumption actually costs has led subscribers to revise their behavior in a way that can only be beneficial. This open incentive to help to improve the productivity of the nation as a whole is not one of the least merits of price mechanisms; it would be wrong to fail to use its possibilities to the full.”); Yon, supra note 75, at 250–51 (“Their aim was not just to signal, correctly and without distortion, existing and transparent costs of production to consumers. . . . Instead, EDF’s engineers deployed economic calculations to make politically informed decisions on the design of technologies of production and on the future strategic uses of electricity . . . .”).

Notwithstanding Boiteux’s efforts to ground the discussion of marginal cost pricing in the context of national planning and investment policy, however, the concept of marginal cost pricing came to be viewed over time in a more detached, generic sense as the basis for maximizing allocative efficiency in state-owned and rate-regulated public utilities.80As Ralph Turvey put it in an important elaboration of Boiteux’s work, “Marginal cost pricing in electricity means a tariff structure such that the cost to any consumer of changing the level or pattern of his consumption equals the cost to the electricity supply industry of his doing so. This can be achieved more or less closely according to whether the tariff structure is more or less complicated.” Ralph Turvey, Optimal Pricing and Investment in Electricity Supply: An Essay in Applied Welfare Economics 86 (1968). There is a general assumption throughout this literature that demand response (or load management) is a critical part of system optimization in the short term and that high prices are the best way to bring load into alignment with available capacity. Id. at 91 (observing that “rationing by price is preferred to rationing by power cuts”). The goal, as William Vickrey put it in the early 1970s, was “responsive pricing,” which would allow prices to track costs and thereby lead to more efficient allocation of capital across the industry.81See generally William Vickrey, Responsive Pricing of Public Utility Services, 2 Bell J. Econ. & Mgmt. Sci. 337 (1971). Vickrey did recognize that the move to “responsive pricing” of public utility services was ultimately a political choice that “would constitute a fairly radical departure from current practices in utility pricing,” at least in the United States.82See id. at 346 (“Indeed the main difficulty with responsive pricing is likely to be not mechanical or economic, but political. The medieval notion of the just price as an ethical norm, with its implication that the price of a commodity or service that is nominally in some sense the same should not vary according to the circumstances of the moment, has a strong appeal even today.”). But in his view, it would be “well worth the considerable effort that [would] be needed to put it into practice” given “the very substantial improvements in economic efficiency” that would be gained.83Id. Indeed, responsive pricing was as close as one could hope to get to the virtues of a “free market” in industries marked by “heavy fixed costs and economies of scale.”84Id. (“The free market has often enough been condemned as a snare and a delusion, but if indeed prices have failed to perform their function in the context of modern industrial society, it may not be because that free market will not work, but because it has not been effectively tried. Responsive pricing may not be the same thing as the free market, but it is the closest approach that can be devised in a context of heavy fixed costs and economies of scale.”).

During the early 1970s, as electricity rates increased across the United States for the first time in decades, several public utility commissions began to explore the possible use of marginal cost pricing as a basis for retail rates.85See Joskow, supra note 77, at 197 (noting increased interest among state public utility commissions in the application of marginal cost pricing principles to electricity rates); Samuel Huntington, The Rapid Emergence of Marginal Cost Pricing in the Regulation of Electric Utility Rate Structures, 55 B.U. L. Rev. 689, 691 (1975) (“If implemented by peak load or time-of-day rates, marginal cost pricing will provide economic incentives for customers to make more efficient use of utility capacity and fuel resources. This will in turn contribute toward an economically efficient allocation of all resources.”). Much of this was driven by the exhaustion of economies of scale in thermal power generation by the late 1960s and the price shocks associated with the 1973 oil embargo, which together translated into significant increases in electricity rates. The overall goal was to find new rate designs that would promote more load shifting among customers (what was often called “load management”) to avoid additional expenditures for new capacity. Joskow, supra note 77, at 197. Environmental groups also began to push PUCs in this direction based on their conviction that the prevailing practice of declining block rates (that is, the more you use the less it costs) undermined efforts to promote conservation and efficiency and that marginal cost pricing would reduce the amount of new generation that needed to be built by shaving peaks and possibly even reducing overall demand.86The Environmental Defense Fund, for example, intervened in proceedings in Wisconsin and New York. Peak-load pricing was designed to flatten the load curve (shave the peaks) and thus avoid the need to invest in new capacity to meet such peaks. See Douglas D. Anderson, Regulatory Politics and Electric Utilities: A Case Study in Political Economy 110–13 (1981) (discussing Environmental Defense Fund’s interventions in rate reform proceedings in Wisconsin, New York, and other states during the 1970s to advocate for marginal cost pricing). In 1974, the Wisconsin Public Service Commission issued a landmark order that embraced marginal cost pricing as a key principle in rate design.87See Application of Madison Gas and Electric Company for Authority to Increase its Electric and Gas Rates, No. 2-U-7423, Wis. Pub. Serv. Comm’n, at 80 (Aug. 8, 1974) [hereinafter Madison Gas] (“The principle of marginal cost pricing is an appropriate guide for the purpose of the design of rates of Madison Gas and Electric Company and other Wisconsin Energy utilities. Such a principle has been shown to be the most effective way to obtain efficient allocation of resources and to prevent wasteful use of electric energy.”). In New York, Alfred Kahn, who had just become chair of the New York Public Service Commission, opened a “generic” rate investigation to develop principles and methods for marginal cost pricing.88See N.Y. Pub. Serv. Comm’n, Order Instituting Proceeding, No. 26806 (Jan. 29, 1975) (“Rapidly increasing costs of new generating facilities and the rising cost of fuel both make it urgent, in the interest of energy conservation and the efficient use of resources, that the structure of energy prices reflect, to the greatest extent feasible, the variations in the incremental costs of service because of differences in the time of consumption, as well as in all other cost-influencing factors.”). After thirty-five days of hearings, the New York Commission issued an order concluding that marginal costs provided a “reasonable basis for electric rate structures,” and directed the state’s electric utilities to consider how “to translate marginal cost analyses into rates.”89See Opinion and Order Determining Relevance of Marginal Costs to Electric Rate Structures, Case 26806, Opinion No. 76-15, N.Y. Pub. Serv. Comm’n, at 31, 33–34 (Aug. 10, 1976) [hereinafter N.Y. Pub. Serv. Comm’n 1976 Order]. In a section of the Order on “marginal cost theory,” the Commission quoted extensively from Paul Joskow to illustrate the merits of marginal cost pricing for electricity and other commodities:

Prices act as signals to consumers indicating the cost to them of additional consumption of various commodities. To the extent that commodity prices are equal to the marginal social costs of production, these pricing signals indicate simultaneously the cost of commodities to individual consumers and the cost of producing such commodities from the viewpoint of society as a whole. With prices set equal to marginal cost, consumers’ decisions regarding the trade-offs associated with the consumption of different commodities are guided by signals which reflect the actual production of commodities. . . . There is, I submit, no real argument about whether marginal cost pricing is right or wrong. If our goal is economic efficiency, it is almost definitional that the prices of commodities must reflect the marginal social cost of supplying these commodities.

Id. at 7–8 (quoting Paul Joskow). In his academic writing, Kahn had also long been an advocate for marginal cost pricing. See, e.g., Alfred E. Kahn, The Economics of Regulation Vol. I 65 (1970) (“The central policy prescription of microeconomics is the equation of price and marginal cost. If economic theory is to have any relevance to public utility pricing, that is the point at which the inquiry must begin.”).
These efforts received a further boost in 1978 with passage of the Public Utility Regulatory Policy Act (“PURPA”), which implicitly endorsed the concept of marginal cost pricing and directed state PUCs to consider new rate designs based on time-of-use.90Public Utility Regulatory Policies Act, Pub. L. No. 95–617, 92 Stat. 3117 (1978).

Despite enthusiastic support from economists and other utility reform advocates, however, none of these efforts made much of an impact on existing residential rate structures across the country.91Many industrial and commercial customers, on the other hand, did take advantage of time-variant rates. See Tim Schittekatte, Dharik Mallapragada, Paul L. Joskow & Richard Schmalensee, Electricity Retail Rate Design in a Decarbonizing Economy: An Analysis of Time-of-Use and Critical Peak Pricing 2 (Mass. Inst. of Tech. Ctr. for Energy & Env’t Pol’y Rsch., Working Paper No. 2022-015, 2022) (noting that most residential and small commercial customers in the United States continue to pay flat per kilowatt-hour rates whereas some large industrial and commercial customers have been able to take advantage of time-variant rates). Aside from some modest experiments with time-of-use rates and peak-load pricing in a handful of states, most residential customers continued to pay flat rates based on historical average costs.92See Anderson, supra note 86, at 128–32. Part of the reason for this was because of the complexity of trying to design rate structures that would reflect marginal costs while also meeting revenue requirements for utilities.93See, e.g., Kahn, supra note 89, at 182 (“The task of translating these principles [of marginal cost pricing] into actual price schedules is so extraordinarily difficult that it is entirely possible to accept their validity while at the same time concluding that the task of following them is an impossible one. . . . [E]ven the most sophisticated and conscientious effort to apply these principles inevitably involves large doses of subjective judgment and, at the very best, can achieve only the roughest possible approximation of the desired results.”). Part of it also stemmed from older commitments to using historical average costs, which were easier to calculate and verify based on uniform accounting.94See James C. Bonbright, Albert L. Danielsen & David R. Kamerschen, Principles of Public Utility Rates 414 (2d ed., 1988) (observing that despite the enthusiasm for marginal cost pricing among economists and others, the actual application of marginal cost pricing in the utility industry was quite limited and noting that for most electric utilities rate design continued to be based on average system costs).

But the concept of marginal cost pricing did have an important impact on the whole approach to public utility pricing that fed into larger concerns about the sector and the need for restructuring.95See, e.g., Madison Gas, supra note 87, at 90 (Richard D. Cudahy, concurring) (“Electricity has become a very much more precious commodity than it was previously believed to be. Conservation and a strict accounting of costs—both pecuniary and environmental—have become the order of the day. For these reasons primarily it seems clearly justified to explore much more exacting systems of cost determination than were previously thought appropriate. It is, perhaps, belaboring the obvious to recite that, because electricity cannot be stored, the cost characteristics of kilowatt-hours delivered at different hours of the day and during different seasons of the year may be quite different. . . . Only, I think, by seeking to change the system to provide rate incentives or penalties, as the case may be, to those who can and will change their usage to improve the overall economics and social impacts of the system can we make really significant progress. . . . The hour is late and the system cries out for better methods of control. The emphasis should no longer be entirely on an adequate supply of electricity whenever demanded, but also on a structuring of demand to call forth a more orderly and economic supply.”). By elevating efficiency concerns, particularly during a moment when prices were rising and regulators were struggling to make sense of a new macroeconomic environment, marginal cost pricing worked to displace and discredit some of the longstanding redistributive aims of public utility.96See Bonbright et al., supra note 94, at 179–82 (discussing the tradeoffs between fairness and efficiency in ratemaking). In particular, it made visible the cross-subsidies that had long operated in the shadows of flat rates based on historical average costs.97Id. at 525–26 (discussing the inevitability of discriminatory pricing in ratemaking based on average cost); see also Kahn, supra note 89, at 102–03 (discussing problem of internal subsidization in rate designs that are not based on true marginal cost pricing). It also provided a foil to the efforts by consumer groups and others during the 1970s to adopt “lifeline rates” for poor customers, a topic that we will return to in Part III below.98See infra Section III.B. Alfred Kahn, in fact, was notable in his hostility to the whole idea of lifeline rates, which he dismissed as “social ratemaking” and antithetical to any economically responsible approach to setting rates.99See Anderson, supra note 86, at 118 (quoting Kahn’s 1975 reference to lifeline rates as “social ratemaking” in a statement before the New York Assembly’s Committee on Corporations, Authorities and Commissions); see also N.Y. Pub. Serv. Comm’n 1976 Order, supra note 89 at 16 (observing in the proceeding on marginal cost pricing for electricity that “there is at the very least implicit agreement among almost all the parties, with the principal exception of some of the advocates of so-called Lifeline rates, that customers should, to the maximum extent feasible, pay rates based upon the differing costs they impose upon the system, however those costs are defined”).

Finally, although much of the discussion of marginal cost pricing had taken place in the context of state-owned and regulated systems (and was largely directed at establishing more efficient rate structures within these systems), there was an important sense in which it reinforced the case for markets. In fact, if designed correctly, competitive spot markets for electricity might provide a solution to the challenge of translating marginal costs into rates precisely because the new markets would provide a robust, granular price signal that reflected the changing costs of generation across time as well as the specific physical constraints of the transmission system.100See Joskow & Schmalensee, supra note 52, at 80–81 (“[A]n ideal pricing system for electricity would set prices equal to short-run marginal cost of providing electricity at different voltage levels. Complications arise, however, because marginal costs in real power systems vary from minute to minute, from day to day, and from season to season.”); see also Stephen C. Littlechild, Spot Pricing of Electricity: Arguments and Prospects, 16(4) Energy Pol’y 398, 398 (1988) (“Spot pricing of electricity, whereby prices change from moment to moment according to the changing balance of supply and demand, is often attributed to a proposal by Vickrey.”) (citing Vickrey’s 1971 article, Responsive Pricing of Public Utility Services, supra note 81). Littlechild was the chief architect of the UK experiment in privatization and liberalization of electricity. See infra Section I.C.2. Making this work in practice turned out to be an enormously complicated technical and computational problem given the peculiar nature of electricity networks and their variability over space and time.101The solution here came not from market theorists but rather from a group of power system engineers at MIT working on the theory and practice of spot pricing for electricity, with prices varying across both space and time. See generally Fred C. Schweppe, Michael C. Caramanis, Richard D. Tabors & Roger E. Bohn, Spot Pricing of Electricity (1988). As Fred Schweppe and his colleagues observed at the beginning of their landmark book on spot pricing: “There is a need for fundamental changes in the ways society views electric energy. Electric energy must be treated as a commodity which can be bought, sold, and traded, taking into account its time- and space-varying values and costs.” Id. at xvii. And in a sweeping assertion of the natural teleology of markets, they observed that “[s]pot pricing is the natural evolution of existing techniques for power system operation, planning, load management and the economic theory of marginal cost pricing.” Id. at xviii; see also Daniel Breslau, Redistributing Agency: The Control Roots of Spot Pricing of Electricity, 52 Hist. Pol. Econ. 221, 234–39 (2020). In the U.S., a system of locational marginal pricing (“LMP”) was developed during the 1990s to translate the theory of short-term spot pricing into a workable approach that could capture both the changing cost of supply at particular locations and the additional costs of transmission congestion on the network.102The seminal paper that provided the basis for the development of locational marginal pricing (“LMP”) is William W. Hogan, Contract Networks for Electric Power Transmission, 4 J. Regul. Econ. 211 (1992). Hogan and others worked closely with utilities in the New York Power Pool and the Pennsylvania-New Jersey-Maryland Interconnection (“PJM”) during the early 1990s to develop the LMP concept. As the organized electricity markets in PJM and New York took shape in the mid to late 1990s, the challenges of managing congestion in a decentralized market became acute. In 1997, the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission (“FERC”) approved PJM’s proposed LMP market design and in 1999 it approved an LMP design for the New York Independent System Operator (“NYISO”). See, e.g., Order Conditionally Accepting Open Access Transmission Tariff and Power Pool Agreements, Establishment of an Independent System Operator and Control Over Jurisdictional Facilities, FERC No. ER97-3189, EC97-38 (Nov. 25, 1997); FERC Order, No. ER-97-1523, ER97-4234, 86 FERC ¶ 61,062 (Jan. 27, 1999); see also Thomas-Olivier Leautier, Imperfect Markets and Imperfect Regulation: An Introduction to the Microeconomics and Political Economy of Power Markets 182 (2019) (discussing Hogan’s contributions to the development of locational marginal pricing). LMP has subsequently been adopted by all of the wholesale markets in the U.S. as well as several foreign markets. Translating these short-term wholesale spot market prices into dynamic, real-time prices for retail customers, however, has not been widely adopted in the United States, in part because states still retain jurisdiction over retail prices and in part because of lack of interest from customers. As discussed in Part II, this has significantly limited the ability of supply and demand to mutually adjust in real time and undermined the ability of electricity markets to deliver the full benefits of marginal cost pricing.

B.  Market Devices

Translating these broad commitments to competition and marginal cost pricing into an actual market in the real world was, of course, easier said than done. The main challenge involved creating a package of rules, devices, and institutions capable of formatting the interaction of supply and demand in a manner that would consistently generate prices that reflected marginal costs.103 Cf. Marion Fourcade, Price and Prejudice: On Economics and the Enchantment (and Disenchantment) of Nature, in The Worth of Goods 42, 45 (Jens Beckert & Patrik Aspers eds., 2011) (“Many pricing technologies, then, are tools (complex, highly sophisticated economic tools) that bring markets into existence. That is, they are technologies whose purpose is to construct a space of ‘tradability.’ ”); Michel Callon & Fabian Muniesa, Economic Markets as Calculative Collective Devices, 26 Org. Stud. 1229, 1240 (2005) (noting “the existence of a multiplicity of practical forms of confrontation between supply and demand” across different markets); see also Boyd, supra note 21, at 756–57 (discussing role of rules, devices, and techniques in constituting markets). Because electricity networks operate as a single integrated machine, where supply and demand must be balanced in real time, this required centralized systems operations that would embed any sort of market arrangement within the basic engineering requirements of the grid.104See Boyd, supra note 21, at 784, for a discussion.

Here again the basic approach grew out of the experience with vertically integrated systems. Indeed, grid managers in the regulated and state-owned utilities had long used a system of least cost economic dispatch to ensure that the entire system was run as efficiently as possible subject to the basic engineering constraints of the grid.105The basic approach was known as “security constrained economic dispatch.” See Fed. Energy Regul. Comm’n, Security Constrained Economic Dispatch: Definition, Practices, Issues and Recommendations 5–6 (2006) (describing basic concept of security constrained economic dispatch). Generating units were ranked in merit order depending on their costs and dispatched from low cost to high until demand was satisfied. In these vertically integrated systems, the fixed and variable costs of each generating unit were known and could be used as a basis for dispatch decisions. Control of the system thus proceeded based on extensive knowledge of how all the parts fit together.106See, e.g., Joskow & Schmalensee, supra note 52, at 25–26 (discussing benefits of vertical integration in power systems).

Finding a “market device” that could replicate this across a fleet of competitive generators where the costs were not known was no small task.107See, e.g., Fabian Muniesa, Yuval Millo & Michel Callon, An Introduction to Market Devices, in Market Devices 1, 2 (Michel Callon et al. eds., 2007) (describing the notion of a market device “as a simple way of referring to the material and discursive assemblages that intervene in the construction of markets”); see also Donald MacKenzie, An Engine, Not a Camera: How Financial Models Shape Markets 275 (2006) (directing attention to the “infrastructures of markets: . . . the material devices, procedures, routines, rules, and design features that make markets what they are”). Two main challenges confronted the effort. First, the basic design of these markets and their associated activity rules needed to ensure that generators would not be rewarded for offering to sell at inflated prices. Put another way, generator bidding needed to be constrained by a set of rules that would encourage them to submit bids at their actual marginal cost. This was not, as we will see, a simple question of market structure, and the effort to ensure a consistent pattern of honest bidding across these markets has proved to be quite challenging. Second, generators needed sufficient revenues to cover their total costs (that is, both fixed and variable costs) and needed to have sufficient confidence that they would be able to do so going forward to make new investments. Any new market arrangements thus needed to produce sufficient economic rents to maintain enough capacity to meet peak demand and to stimulate enough new investment so that the system would be able to satisfy future demand. This too would prove to be quite challenging.

1.  Honest Bidding

For spot markets, the challenge was to create a market mechanism that could consistently generate prices that reflected marginal costs and to avoid gaming by generators. Put another way, the challenge was to make generators behave like honest bidders. As it turned out, economists working in the fields of auction theory had been thinking about a related set of problems since the early 1960s. In 1961, a decade after his initial interventions in the area of public utility pricing, William Vickrey demonstrated that the “incentive properties” of specific auction designs could be used to elicit truthful information from bidders in their bidding strategies.108See, e.g., William Vickrey, Counterspeculation, Auctions, and Competitive Sealed Tenders, 16 J. Fin. 8, 9–10 (1961). Laurence Ausubel and Paul Milgrom observed that Vickrey’s article

marked the first serious attempt by an economist to analyze the details of market rules and to design new rules to achieve superior performance. He demonstrated that a particular pricing rule makes it a dominant strategy for bidders to report their values truthfully, even when they know that their reported values will be used to allocate goods efficiently.

Lawrence M. Ausubel & Paul Milgrom, The Lovely but Lonely Vickrey Auction, in Combinatorial Auctions 17, 17 (Peter Cramton et al. eds., 2006).
In effect, by separating the price-as-bid from the price received (the clearing price), bidders in a sufficiently competitive market had no incentive to make inflated bids.109Vickrey, supra note 108, at 26 (noting that the uniform price auction design “has the more material advantage of reducing the probability that a bidder’s own bid will affect the price he receives, thus inducing bids closer to the full value to the bidder, improving the chances of obtaining or approaching the optimum allocation of resources, and reducing effort and expense devoted to socially superfluous investigation of the general market situation”). Although Vickrey’s paper was ignored for the better part of a decade, its key insight would become central to efforts in coming decades to adopt specific auction formats to encourage certain forms of behavior.110See Philip Mirowski & Edward Nik-Khah, The Knowledge We Have Lost in Information: The History of Information in Modern Economics 170–72 (2017) (discussing Vickrey’s contributions to auction theory and the development of what they refer to as the Bayes-Nash school of market design).

More generally, as the field of mechanism design gained traction within economics, a new generation of market designers worked to translate the insights of Vickrey and others into the design of actual markets.111See id. at 171–78 (discussing Robert Wilson’s contributions to auction theory and mechanism design as well as his involvement in the design of electricity markets). Wilson had worked under the decision theorist Howard Raiffa at Harvard Business School and was part of an early group of academics seeking to bring insights from operations research and decision theory into economics departments and business schools. Id. at 171–72. In 2020, Wilson received the Nobel prize, along with Paul Milgrom, for his work on auction theory. Press Release, The Sveriges Riksbank Prize in Economic Sciences in Memory of Alfred Nobel 2020 (Oct. 12, 2020), https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/economic-sciences/2020/press-release [https://perma.cc/3ARS-BFHC]. In the UK, economist Sally Hunt and her colleagues convinced the government to use a single-price auction format for the UK’s mandatory short-term electricity market.112See Ronan Bolton, Making Energy Markets: The Origins of Electricity Liberalisation in Europe 102–03 (2021). In California, Robert Wilson made use of Vickrey’s insights to explain how different auction designs and activity rules could be used to create what he called a “mode of competition” for electricity markets that would suppress gaming and force market participants to reveal truthful information in their bidding strategies.113See Robert Wilson, Design Principles, in Designing Competitive Electricity Markets 159, 161 (Hung-Po Chao & Hillard G. Huntington eds., 1998) (“[M]y aim is to construct a design that suppresses gaming or renders it ineffective in favor of greater efficiency. The principle, however, is to treat the market design as establishing a mode of competition among the traders. The key is to select a mode of competition that is most effective in realizing the potential gains from trade.”). As one of the key architects of the new California market, Wilson recognized that a uniform or single-price auction design wrapped in detailed activity rules would provide the honest bidding outcome that Vickrey had hypothesized decades earlier.114See id. at 182 n.16 (“The activity rules for the California PX are adapted from the FCC’s auctions of spectrum licenses, which have been notably successful and are now used worldwide. The PX rules were tested in laboratory experiments at Caltech with good results, but they will not be implemented in the PX until late 1998, so there is presently no factual evidence on their performance in practice.”).

The basic design of the single-clearing price auction was quite simple. Generator bids would be stacked in ascending order from lowest price to highest. Load serving entities would likewise submit offers to buy at various prices, arranged from lowest to highest, although because of the highly inelastic nature of electricity demand the demand curve was essentially fixed. The last increment of generation needed to meet demand would set the clearing price. All generators that submitted bids below that price would receive the clearing price. All load serving entities that submitted offers above the clearing price would pay the clearing price. As long as there was no market power and as long as individual bidders did not know the bidding strategies of their competitors, they had no incentive to bid above marginal cost. By submitting bids at their short-run marginal costs, they maximized their chances of being dispatched without losing money in the short term.115See Jeremy Lin & Fernando H. Magnago, Electricity Markets: Theories and Applications 224–25 (2017) (discussing general features of uniform clearing-price design); see also id. at 225 (“In such a pricing scheme, generators are more truthful in revealing their true marginal costs by bidding as close as possible or equal to their marginal costs.”). The alternative design, known as “pay-as- bid” or discriminatory pricing, stacks submitted bids and offers in the same manner as the uniform clearing-price design, but generators that clear the market receive the price at which they offered to sell their power rather than the clearing price. Likewise, load-serving entities with bids that cleared the market will pay the price at which they bid rather than the clearing price. As various observers have argued, this creates incentives for generators to “guess the clearing price” rather than submit offers at their marginal costs. See id. at 225 (observing that “pay-as-bid” pricing creates incentives for generators to “submit offers that reflected their best guess at what the cleared price will be for the most expensive needed resource, instead of bidding their actual costs as they do in a uniform-price auction”). Although there was some debate in the U.S. about the merits of pay-as-bid after the California electricity crisis, all of the U.S. markets have continued to use the uniform clearing-price design. See Alfred E. Kahn, Peter C. Cramton, Robert H. Porter & Richard D. Tabors, Cal. Power Exch., Pricing in the California Power Exchange Electricity Market: Should California Switch from Uniform Pricing to Pay-as-Bid Pricing? 16 (2001) (concluding that a shift from uniform pricing to pay-as-bid pricing would be a mistake and would likely do more harm than good to consumers). And if the clearing price ended up being higher than their marginal costs, they would receive the difference as inframarginal rents.

It was a brilliant solution to a vexing problem that illustrated the significant changes underway in economics as a discipline and the vast new domains opened up by mechanism design. Rather than trying to understand how markets work or why economic agents behave in certain ways, the proponents of mechanism design sought to intervene directly in the economy and build specific kinds of markets with specific rules and institutions that would then elicit the behavior of market participants that theory indicated was optimal.116Robert C. McDiarmid, Lisa G. Dowden & Daniel I. Davidson, A Modest Proposal: Revoke the Nobel Prize? Recognize the Limitations of Theory? Or Grant a License to Steal?, 14 Elec. J. 11, 13. (2001) (“At the level at which most regulators understand economic theory, the concept of eliciting a truthful bid through market design is so self-evidently correct that this key piece of the structure has become almost scriptural; that is, it is assumed to be correct and not to be questioned.”). See Mirowski & Nik-Khah, supra note 110, at 148 (“[S]ince roughly 1980, the [economics] profession converged upon a more ‘constructivist’ approach to markets in the sense that it has become possible, for the first time, to acknowledge that market formats do indeed differ in significant ways; furthermore, it might be possible for economists to intervene in the setup and maintenance of these diverse structures. Where economists once placidly contemplated markets from without, situated in a space detached from their subject matter, so to speak, now they are much less disciplined about their doctrines concerning the nature of economic agency, and much more inclined to be found down in the trenches with other participants, engaged in making markets.”); Boyd, supra note 21, at 787–90 (discussing application of mechanism design and experimental economics to electricity markets).

2.  Rent Machines

The other challenge facing electricity market design was how to ensure that generators received sufficient revenues to maintain enough generating capacity over time. This was particularly challenging in capital-intensive industries where prices needed to cover fixed costs and provide sufficient incentive for future investment. In the electricity sector, moreover, the problem was further compounded by the inability to store electricity at scale, highly inelastic demand, and the need to balance the system in real time—all of which created special vulnerabilities to market power during conditions of scarcity.

The uniform or single-price auction design offered a possible solution here as well. In effect, the inframarginal rents available to lower cost (inframarginal) generators would cover at least some of their fixed costs and, if consistently high enough, would signal the need for new investment. By operating as rent machines, in other words, the auctions would drive investment toward the lowest cost generation technologies while solving the revenue problem. This had two components: the modest inframarginal rents available to lower cost generators during normal operating periods and the very large rents available during periods of peak demand (perhaps only a few days per year) when prices were very high. The latter scarcity pricing effect was generally viewed as the major source of profits to encourage longer term investment.

But given highly inelastic demand and the fact that electricity is a necessity, market operators were uncomfortable with the extremely high prices that might occur during periods of peak demand when the system is operating at capacity. Allowing prices to go as high as they could during these periods would effectively destroy the market.117See Borenstein, supra note 26, at 207 (“In reality, price caps are, and will continue to be, a critical element of virtually all wholesale electricity markets. The extreme inelasticity of both supply and demand means that supply shortages, whether real or due to market power, can potentially drive prices many thousands of times higher than their normal level. Such outcomes would destroy the market.”). The solution here was to adopt price caps that would kick in during periods of scarcity. Currently, these range from $1,000 MWh in most of the organized electricity markets in the U.S. to $9,000 in the Electric Reliability Council of Texas (“ERCOT”) market (a cap that was reduced to $5,000 per MWh after Winter Storm Uri and has since been thrown into doubt by a 2023 court decision).118Luminant Energy Co. v. Pub. Util. Comm’n of Texas, 665 S.W.3d 166, 191 (Tex. App. 2023) (“While the extraordinary circumstances of Winter Storm Uri may have required extraordinary modifications to the SPM [scarcity pricing mechanism] to send appropriate price signals to prompt the necessary market response, the Commission here exceeded the Legislature’s limits on its power. Setting a single price at the rule-based maximum price violated the Legislature’s requirement in the Utilities Code Section 39.001(d) that the Commission use competitive methods to the greatest extent feasible and impose the least impact on competition.”). For comparison, the average annual wholesale prices in many of these markets have historically been around $40 to $50 per MWh.119See Energy Information Administration, Wholesale Electricity and Natural Gas Market Data, Electricity: Analysis & Protections (2023), https://www.eia.gov/electricity/wholesale [https://perma.cc/7Y8S-QT7V].

Opponents of price caps have argued that the effort to limit the extraordinary rents available during periods of scarcity has undermined incentives for future investment. This is sometimes referred to as the “missing money problem,” which in turn has led generators to push for all manner of additional out-of-market payments, capacity remuneration mechanisms, and new products intended to provide additional compensation to ensure adequate investment and maintain enough capacity to meet peak demand.120See Paul L. Joskow, Challenges for Wholesale Electricity Markets with Intermittent Renewable Generation at Scale: The US Experience, 35 Oxford Rev. Econ. Pol’y 291, 303 (2019) (discussing the “revenue inadequacy” or “missing money” problem that comes from over-reliance on short-run marginal cost pricing in the electricity markets); David Newbery, Missing Money and Missing Markets: Reliability Capacity Auctions and Interconnectors, 94 Energy Pol’y 401, 402 (2016) (discussing price caps and the “missing money” problem in electricity markets). As discussed in more detail below, it is fair to say that none of these markets have solved the capacity problem, and it is a problem that becomes significantly harder in a system dominated by intermittent, non-dispatchable renewable energy.

* * *

The intellectual case for electricity markets and the technical aspects of their design were necessary but not sufficient by themselves to deliver actual electricity markets in the real world. In effect, they provided crucial building blocks for the larger political effort to abandon the state-owned and heavily regulated electricity systems that had prevailed for most of the twentieth century. This political effort was, as noted, part of a global project that was deeply rooted in the broader rise of neoliberalism on both sides of the Atlantic and grew directly out of the crisis of the 1970s.

C.  Political Histories

The mutually reinforcing energy and economic crises of the 1970s provided fertile ground for the neoliberal critique of regulation and state ownership. Within electricity, the exhaustion of economies of scale in thermal power generation by the late 1960s combined with high fuel prices stemming from the oil shocks of the 1970s strained the system and undermined support for regulation.121See Boyd, supra note 36, at 1658–61 (discussing the crisis of the 1970s and impacts on utility regulation in the U.S.). In the U.S., declining real prices abruptly gave way to significant price increases as PUCs were inundated with new rate cases brought by utilities seeking higher rates.122Up until the late 1960s, there were very few rate cases across the United States; only a few a year for the entire country. By the mid-1970s, there were dozens of new rate cases being filed every year. Public Utility Commissions (“PUCs”) were not prepared. See Joskow, supra note 120, at 299. These facts, combined with a Keynesian welfare state that seemed exhausted and inadequate in the face of high inflation and low growth, prepared the ground for a series of experiments around the world to privatize and restructure the electricity sector—a set of developments that we turn to now.

1.  Chile

As with most things neoliberal, the first efforts to privatize electricity and subject it to market competition took place in Chile under the Pinochet dictatorship during the early 1980s.123See, e.g., Ricardo Raineri, Chile: Where it All Started, in Electricity Market Reform: An International Perspective 77, 81–82 (Fereidoon P. Sioshansi & Wolfgang Pfaffenberger eds., 2006). See generally, e.g., Hugh Rudnick, Chile: Pioneer in Deregulation of the Electric Power Sector, 14 IEEE Power Eng’g Rev. 28 (1994); Pablo Serra, Chile’s Electricity Markets: Four Decades on From Their Original Design, 39 Energy Strategy Revs. 1 (2022). Paul Joskow has argued that while Chile is often identified as the first country to adopt “the textbook electricity sector reform model . . . the Chilean system has involved less restructuring, less competition and more regulation than first meets the eye.” Paul L. Joskow, Lessons Learned from Electricity Market Liberalization, Energy J. 9, 17–18 (2008) (citation omitted). With its potent mix of Chicago economics and authoritarianism, Chile provided an ideal laboratory for neoliberal experiments.124See Karin Fischer, The Influence of Neoliberals in Chile Before, During, and After Pinochet, in The Road from Mount Pèlerin: The Making of the Neoliberal Thought Collective 35 (Phillip Mirowski & Dieter Plehwe eds., 2009). See generally Juan Gabriel Valdes, Pinochet’s Economists: The Chicago School in Chile (1995). For a more sympathetic account, see generally Sebastian Edwards, The Chile Project: The Story of the Chicago Boys and the Downfall of Neoliberalism (2023). See also Friedrich Hayek’s praise of Pinochet and his infamous 1978 statement in a letter to The Times of London: “In modern times, there have of course been many instances of authoritarian governments under which personal liberty was safer than under many democracies.” In the letter, Hayek goes on to observe that he had “not been able to find a single person even in much maligned Chile who did not agree that personal freedom was much greater under Pinochet than it had been under Allende.” F.A. Hayek, Letter to the Editor, Freedom of Choice, Times (London), Aug. 3, 1978, reprinted in The Collected Works of F.A. Hayek: Essays on Liberalism and the Economy 497, 497–98 (Paul Lewis ed., 2022). The power sector was an obvious target, as it had been under state ownership for decades and was viewed as strategic for the development of other industries.125The Chilean electricity sector was brought under state control in the 1940s. In the early 1970s, the Allende regime pursued full nationalization of most public service companies. See Carlos Batlle, Luiz A. Barroso & Ignacio J. Pérez-Arriaga, The Changing Role of the State in the Expansion of Electricity Supply in Latin America, 38 Energy Pol’y 7152, 7153–54 (2010) (discussing state electricity monopolies in Latin America during the middle decades of the twentieth century).

One of the main architects of the Chilean experiment, Sebastian Bernstein, had spent time in France studying the theory and practice of marginal cost pricing developed by Marcel Boiteux and others. Rather than use marginal cost pricing as a tool for improving efficiency within a state-owned system, however, Bernstein and his colleagues recognized that marginal cost pricing could also be used in a market context.126See Sebastian Bernstein, Competition, Marginal Cost Tariffs and Spot Pricing in the Chilean Electric Power Sector, Energy Pol’y 369, 373–75 (1988); see also Michael Pollitt, Electricity Reform in Chile: Lessons for Developing Countries, 5 J. Network Indus. 221, 224 (2004) (observing that Chilean officials visited the UK, France, and Belgium to understand various components of restructured electricity markets, including a dispatch system based on marginal cost pricing as developed by engineer-economists at Electricite de France). Two overarching goals animated the basic approach: the use of markets to ensure “the correct allocation of resources” and the assignment of the state to a “subsidiary role.”127Bernstein, supra note 126, at 369. This required, in Bernstein’s view, “deconcentrating, decentralizing, and privatizing the activities and property of the energy companies” previously owned by the state, combined with “state support to the more deprived sectors of the population through direct subsidies, without distorting the prices of goods and services,” and a strict prohibition on state performance of any “entrepreneurial activities” unless they “cannot or will not be carried out by the private sector.”128Id. at 369–70. In the reformed electricity sector, “pricing” provided the “mechanism to attain the objectives of global efficiency and state subsidiarity.”129Id. at 370–71 (“This price system must be based necessarily on objective technical and economic criteria and on precise calculation mechanisms.”).

Enacted in 1982, the Chilean Electricity Law unbundled and privatized state-owned generation, created new distribution companies, and explicitly required the use of marginal cost pricing: “[T]ransfers of energy between electric power generating companies operating in synchronism with an electric system . . . shall be priced according to the short-term marginal costs of the electric system.”130General Law of Electric Services, Decree-Law No. 1 of 1982 from the Ministry of Mines (DFL No. 1); see also Raineri, supra note 123, at 88–89 n.14 (discussing use of marginal cost pricing model for power plant dispatch based on the work of Marcel Boiteux). These prices would be calculated through an “economic load dispatching centre” that was structured as a “generators’ club” with minimal government oversight and involvement.131See Bernstein, supra note 126, at 374.

The two large state-owned electricity companies, Chilectra and Endesa, which generated 13.4% and 64.1% respectively of Chile’s electricity, were unbundled into seven generation companies and eight distribution companies.132See Serra, supra note 123, at 1. The hope was that more private companies would enter the market and enhance competition. In fact, just the opposite occurred. During the late 1980s, Endesa purchased three of its former spin-offs and by 1990 was supplying 52.1% of Chile’s electricity generation.133Id. at 2. Serra notes that by 1990, three companies (including Endesa) accounted for 97.2% of total generation. Id. By 1995, Chile’s leading distribution holding company, Enersis, had acquired a controlling ownership share in Endesa.134Id. Four years later, Spain’s largest electricity company, also named Endesa, acquired a controlling interest in Enersis.135See Francesc Trillas, The Takeover of Enersis: The Control of Privatized Utilities, 10 Utils. Pol’y 25, 27 (2001). Spanish Endesa viewed Enersis as a platform for it to extend its interests across South America. Spanish Endesa then used its control over Enersis to fight off an effort by Duke Energy to acquire a majority stake in Chilean Endesa.136Id. at 30. Spanish Endesa, moreover, was controlled by the Spanish government through a so-called golden share arrangement until 2005, when the European Court of Justice forced it to relinquish control in accordance with EU competition law.137See Leslie Crawford & Daniel Dombey, Spain Scraps Golden Shares, Fin. Times (Nov. 25, 2005), https://www.ft.com/content/4e24a442-5def-11da-be9c-0000779e2340 [https://perma.cc/QR99-WF9Z].

By the early 2000s, then, two decades after it launched its experiment to privatize and liberalize its electricity sector, Chile faced a highly concentrated sector with its largest companies controlled by a foreign company that was itself controlled by the government of Spain.138In addition to Endesa, two other major companies in the electricity sector were also controlled by foreign companies. See Pollitt, supra note 126, at 228 (describing foreign ownership of Chilean electricity system). It seems unlikely that this was the result that Sebastian Bernstein and other architects of the Chilean experiment anticipated in the early 1980s, but it is not, as we will see in the UK case, a story that was unique to Chile.

More important, the overall performance of the Chilean electricity sector over the last forty years has been uneven at best. In effect, privatization led to significant concentration in the ownership of generation assets and very limited gains for consumers, while the new market actors captured large profits.139Serra, supra note 123, at 2. Over the course of the 1990s and early 2000s, Chile’s electricity sector underwent several major crises resulting in extremely high prices, forcing the Government to intervene to address the problems.140See Raineri, supra note 123, at 96–105 (discussing the series of crises affecting the Chilean electricity sector); Carla Alvial-Palavicino & Sebastián Ureta, Economizing Justice: Turning Equity Claims into Lower Energy Tariffs in Chile, 105 Energy Pol’y 642, 644 (2017) (noting that energy prices increased significantly starting in the mid 1990s, with substantial impacts on low-income and rural populations, leading to a movement for “equidad” or equity in electricity prices). The most extensive reforms came in 2015, when the Government introduced a new “tariff equity law” for retail consumers and embraced a series of reforms that sought to integrate concerns about sustainability and affordability into the dominant market-based approach.141See Alvial-Palavicino & Ureta, supra note 140, at 644–46 (discussing Chile’s new “tariff equity law”). Four years later, in response to the widespread social unrest that focused directly on Chile’s staggering levels of inequality and a deepening cost-of-living crisis for many Chileans, the Government canceled a proposed 9.2% price increase and froze retail prices for most consumers.142See Humberto Verdejo Fredes, Benjamin Acosta, Mauricio Olivares, Fernando García-Muñoz, Francisco Tobar, Vannia Toro, Cesar Smith & Cristhian Becker, Impact of Energy Price Stabilization Mechanism on Regulated Clients’ Tariffs: The Case of Chile, 13 Sustainability 1, 3 (2021) (discussing government decision in response to the protests of 2019 to freeze energy prices for retail customers). Since that time, local electricity distribution companies have faced mounting debts and a growing liquidity crisis.143Id. at 13–14 (discussing accumulated debt resulting from the 2019 price freeze). In 2022, the price freeze was extended under a new law that creates a tariff stabilization fund managed by the Government that will be used to reimburse generating companies for the difference between the amounts charged by the distribution companies to retail customers and the amount payable to the generating companies for electricity supply under existing regulated power purchase agreements.144Reimbursement will be in the form of a monthly payment certificate from the Chilean Treasury denominated in USD with an explicit guarantee from the government. See Guidelines May Ease Power Rate Freeze Pressure on Chilean Generators, FitchRatings (Mar. 27, 2023, 11:35 AM), https://www.fitchratings.com/research/corporate-finance/guidelines-may-ease-power-rate-freeze-pressure-on-chilean-generators-27-03-2023 [https://perma.cc/J8U8-WBAW].

Chile’s liberalized electricity markets have also struggled to promote renewable energy—despite the country’s vast solar, wind, and hydropower resources. Indeed, although hydropower had long provided a substantial share of Chile’s electricity, by the early 2000s, electricity produced from fossil fuels (coal, oil, and natural gas) accounted for the majority of generation.145See Michal Natorski & Israel Solorio, Policy Failures and Energy Transitions: The Regulatory Bricolage for the Promotion of Renewable Energy in Mexico and Chile, 2 NPJ Climate Action 1, 7 fig.5 (2023) (showing significant increase in fossil fuel generation in Chilean electricity sector starting in the late 1990s). Protests over several large hydropower projects and growing concerns over climate change led to a renewed focus on so-called non-conventional renewable energy (wind, solar, biofuels, and geothermal).146See, e.g., David Hill, Chilean Patagonia Spared from US$10 Billion Mega-Dam Project, Guardian (June 11, 2014), https://www.theguardian.com/environment/andes-to-the-amazon/2014/jun/11/chilean-patagonia-spared-10-billion-mega-dam-project [https://perma.cc/TYH3-4QKT ] (discussing protests over massive dam projects in southern Chile and the government’s ultimate decision to abandon the projects). In 2008, the Government adopted a new Law of Renewable Energy, which it amended in 2013 and further amplified in 2015 as part of a broader energy policy agenda for 2050.147See Introduce modificaciones a la Ley General de Servicios Eléctricos respecto de la generación de energía eléctrica con fuentes de energías renovables no convencionales, Law No. 20.257, Marzo 20, 2008, Diario Oficial [D.O.] (Chile); Propicia la ampliación de la matriz energética, mediante fuentes renovables no convencionales, Law No. 20.698, Octubre 14, 2013, Diario Oficial [D.O.] (Chile); Ministerio de Energía, Gobierno de Chile, Energía 2050: Política energética de Chile (2015), https://www.energia.gob.cl/sites/default/files/energia_2050_-_politica_energetica_de_chile.pdf [https://perma.cc/G88M-RC44]; see also Cristián Flores-Fernández, The Chilean Energy “Transition”: Between Successful Policy and the Assimilation of a Post-Political Energy Condition, 33 Innovation: Eur. J. Soc. Sci. Rsch. 173, 178–81 (2020) (identifying 2014 and the second term of President Michelle Bachelet as the beginning of the Chilean energy transition). In essence, these laws established a new framework for renewable energy built around quotas for distribution companies and public and private auctions for long-term power purchase agreements.148Int’l Energy Agency, Chile Renewable PPAs and Auctions 72–73 (2022). The overall effect was substantial growth in Chile’s renewable energy, particularly solar energy, up through the early 2020s.149See Natorski & Solorio, supra note 145, at 7–9 (discussing increased solar, wind, and biofuels from 2013 to the early 2020s). By 2023, however, the system was in crisis, with multiple renewables developers canceling contracts or exiting projects because of insufficient revenues.150Are Chile’s Renewable Energies in Crisis?, Bnamericas (May 27, 2023), https://www.bnamericas.com/en/features/are-chiles-renewable-energies-in-crisis [https://perma.cc/4XPM-APM4]; Are Chile’s Renewable Energies in Crisis? Part II, Bnamericas (June 1, 2023), https://www.bnamericas.com/en/features/are-chiles-renewable-energies-in-crisis-part-ii [https://perma.cc/65Y8-LJCN]; Tom Azzopardi, Analysis: Golden Decade for Chilean Renewables Becomes ‘Perfect Nightmare’ as Firms Face Financial Ruin, Windpower Monthly (June 2, 2023), https://www.windpowermonthly.com/article/1824872/analysis-golden-decade-chilean-renewables-becomes-perfect-nightmare-firms-face-financial-ruin [https://perma.cc/D9GJ-7KPY]. Several factors contributed to the crisis, including the general inflation and supply chain constraints that affected the renewables industry everywhere. But much of this was also a product of the increasing dysfunction of the Chilean electricity market, given the imbalances created by the retail price freeze despite rising wholesale costs, a lack of transmission capacity that has led to increased congestion and curtailments of renewables, and the inability of the electricity auctions to deliver sufficient revenues to renewables projects—all of which has led to a growing chorus of calls for bailouts in the short term and a fundamental redesign of Chile’s electricity markets over the longer term.151See James Attwood & Valentina Fuentes, Chile Government Resists Renewable Rescue as Boom Turns to Bust for Some Plants, Bloomberg (May 26, 2023, 4:00 AM), https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2023-05-26/chile-government-resists-renewable-rescue-as-boom-turns-to-bust-for-some-plants [https://perma.cc/Q7ST-BZXM] (noting problems facing renewables projects in Chile and discussing calls for both short-term response and long-term reforms); Tom Azzopardi, Chile Plans Power Market Reforms to Protect Struggling Renewables Sector, Windpower Monthly (June 14, 2023), https://www.windpowermonthly.com/article/1826363/chile-plans-power-market-reforms-protect-struggling-renewables-sector [https://perma.cc/S2PA-RJRL] (discussing government proposals for new electricity market design to address the problems with renewables projects).

2.  UK

While Chile was the first country to move toward privatizing and liberalizing its electricity sector, the UK launched the first truly comprehensive experiment and was arguably the most influential.152See Joskow, supra note 10, at 8 (referring to the UK experiment as the “gold standard”). During the second half of the 1980s, Margaret Thatcher’s government worked to open up the UK electricity sector as part of a broader effort to reform the energy sector.153 For overviews, see generally Dieter Helm, Energy, the State, and the Market: British Energy Policy Since 1979 (rev. ed., 2004); The British Electricity Experiment: Privatization: The Record, the Issues, the Lessons (John Surrey ed., 1996). The goal was to privatize formerly state-owned enterprises and to unbundle generation from transmission and distribution in order to create competitive markets for wholesale electricity. It was, as one observer put it, “[t]he biggest and most radical project” of all in the Thatcher government’s efforts to “roll back the state” and remake the British economy.154John Surrey, Introduction, in The British Electricity Experiment 3 (John Surrey ed., 1996); see Margaret Thatcher, The Downing Street Years 599, 676 (1993) (observing that the privatization effort was “fundamental to improving Britain’s economic performance. But for me it was far more that it was one of the central means of reversing the corrosive and corrupting effects of socialism”).

As in many European countries, electricity supply in the United Kingdom had been provided through state-owned monopolies for most of the post-WWII period.155See John Chesshire, UK Electricity Supply Under Public Ownership, in The British Electricity Experiment 15 (John Surrey ed., 1996). The UK government nationalized the electricity industry in 1947. Id. Throughout this time, there was a general consensus across the political spectrum that electricity was a strategic sector and that state ownership was in the national interest.156See Helm, supra note 153, at 1 (“For most politicians in the post-war period, the importance of energy has naturally translated into the assumption that governments need to control its production and distribution. Until the 1980s, it was conventional wisdom . . . that markets are hopelessly inadequate in providing appropriate energy supplies. State-owned companies were deemed to be so natural that they were made statutory monopolies, and it was assumed that regulation was inevitable.”). Electricity was also viewed as part of an overall package of public services that played a prominent role in the British welfare state.157Id. at 30–32 (discussing the “distributional ambitions” of nationalized energy, including the commitment to provide universal access as a basic primary social good regardless of ability to pay and regardless of location); see also Martin Chick, Le Tarif Vert Retrouve: The Marginal Cost Concept and the Pricing of Electricity in Britain and France, 1945-1970, 23 Energy J. 97, 102 (2002) (“In Britain, in contrast, there was . . . much more explicit concern to use cross-subsidisation within the industry so as to spread the costs of supplying electricity to hitherto unconnected rural and low-income areas.”). Over time, coal fired electricity came to dominate the system, in part because of the power of the coal mining unions.158See John Chesshire, UK Electricity Supply Under Public Ownership, in The British Electricity Experiment 14, 31 (John Surrey ed., 1996) (noting heavy dependence of UK electricity industry on coal into the late 1980s, almost all of which came from indigenous sources mined by workers affiliated with the National Union of Mineworkers). But the state-owned Central Electricity Generating Board (“CEGB”) also built and operated nuclear plants and maintained a large in-house engineering program.159See Helm, supra note 153, at 27–30, 37–38, 89–107 (discussing UK government enthusiasm for nuclear power and role of the Central Electricity Generating Board (“CEGB”) in nuclear buildout). The whole set up was boring, dull, and gray—overbuilt in places and overly reliant on coal in the eyes of some—but it was a public system that provided reliable and affordable electricity to everyone.160See, e.g., James Meek, Private Island: Why Britain Now Belongs to Someone Else 124 (2014) (observing that under nationalization, “electricity was produced and distributed by a state organisation with a no-nonsense Attlee-era moniker, redolent of brown paper envelopes and blotched stencils and corridors smelling of disinfectant: the Central Electricity Generating Board, the CEGB”); see also Helm, supra note 153, at 43 (“The public had been led to expect nationalized industries to take a wide account of the public interest—to include concepts of fairness to their workers and customers, to subsidize worthy causes, and to provide a public service. This meant showrooms in every town in Britain, sponsorship of research and development, and contributing to macro- as well as microeconomic objectives.”). But the CEGB, with its heavy dependence on coal, did not always act in the public interest. See, e.g., Rachel Emma Rothschild, Poisonous Skies: Acid Rain and the Globalization of Pollution 63–66 (2019) (discussing the CEGB’s opposition to research on acid rain and desulfurization technologies during the 1970s).

Debates over the performance and proper management of the state-owned industries occurred throughout the 1960s, culminating in a 1967 government White Paper that set specific economic performance targets and adopted marginal cost pricing as official policy.161See C. Exchequer, Nationalised Industries: A Review of Economic and Financial Objectives, 1967, Cm. 3437 (UK) [hereinafter 1967 White Paper]. The 1967 White Paper also proposed that the CEGB use a test discount rate to evaluate potential investment projects. Some questioned whether the CEGB ever really deployed true marginal cost pricing. See also Turvey, Optimal Pricing, supra note 80, at 57 (extending the work of Boiteux and others on marginal cost pricing with specific attention to its application in the state-owned electricity sector). Over the next decade, a series of assessments pointed with increasing urgency to the inefficiencies of state-owned enterprises and the need for reform as the UK sought to navigate the economic crisis of the 1970s and a challenging macroeconomic environment.162See, e.g, C. Exchequer, The Nationalised Industries, 1978, Cm. 7131 (UK) [hereinafter 1978 White Paper] (establishing a revised system of economic and financial controls for nationalized industries in the UK, including a “required rate of return” as the basis for determining cost of capital for an industry’s overall investment program, rather than the project-specific test discount rate introduced by the 1967 White Paper); David Heald, The Economic and Financial Control of U.K. Nationalised Industries, 90 Econ. J. 243, 243 (1980) (reviewing the main features of the 1978 White Paper and comparing it to the 1967 White Paper); Helm, supra note 153, at 33–34 (discussing the challenging macroeconomic environment of the 1970s and emphasizing focus of the 1978 White Paper on a series of short and medium term financial constraints on the nationalized industries).

In 1979, the incoming Thatcher government signaled a shift in approach, and over the next decade pursued a deliberate strategy to privatize and liberalize natural gas and electricity as part of its broader privatization effort.163But see Helm, supra note 153, at 44 (noting that during the early years of the Thatcher government, “privatization and competition in core utilities were regarded as fanciful academic ideas by all but the most die-hard marketeers”). Nigel Lawson was put in charge of energy and much of the original vision that motivated the effort was summed up by his quip that “the business of Government is not the government of business.”164Nigel Lawson, The View from No. 11: Memoirs of a Tory Radical 211 (1992). In an important 1982 speech on energy, Lawson indicated in no uncertain terms where the conservatives were going:

I do not see the government’s task as being to try and plan the future shape of energy production and consumption. It is not even primarily to try to balance UK demand and supply for energy. Our task is rather to set a framework which will ensure that the market operates in the energy sector with a minimum of distortion and energy is produced and consumed efficiently.165Nigel Lawson, Energy Policy: Text of a Speech Given in July 1982, in The Market for Energy 23 (Dieter Helm et al. eds., 1989).

Lawson turned to a small group of free market economists inside and outside the government to lead the effort.166See Bolton, supra note 112, at 33–35 (detailing Lawson’s efforts to maintain momentum for privatization and liberalization via a group of committed civil servants, outside consultants, free market think tanks, and academics during and after his tenure as minister in charge of energy). Chief among them was Stephen Littlechild, an economics professor at Birmingham University and devoted follower of Friedrich Hayek and Austrian economics.167Littlechild reflected on his life-long admiration of Hayek in a 2022 speech at the Austrian Embassy, in which he noted that he had discovered Hayek in grammar school and worked to educate himself in Austrian economics as an antidote to the Keynesian orthodoxy that prevailed across much of the UK during the 1960s and 1970s. See Stephen Littlechild, Speech in Honour of Friedrich Hayek, Austrian Embassy (Mar. 23, 2022), https://www.eprg.group.cam.ac.uk/speech-in-honour-of-friedrich-hayek-by-s-littlechild [https://perma.cc/U6Q3-H4RQ]. Lawson too was quite enamored of Hayek as well as other free market champions such as Milton Friedman. See, e.g., Nigel Lawson, The New Conservatism 2–3 (1980) (describing the new conservatism as rejecting the “delusions” and “false trails” of social democracy and the commitment to equality that had dominated British politics during the post-war period and urging a return to older traditional wisdoms by way of “new sages” such as Hayek and Friedman). Littlechild was also quite familiar with principles of marginal cost pricing; his 1969 Ph.D. dissertation used linear programming and game theory to investigate marginal cost pricing in regulated and state-owned industries.168See Stephen Littlechild, Life Before Economic Regulation, Summary of a Presentation at the Conference on the Objectives of Economic Regulation, CCP UEA, Norwich (Sept. 16, 2019), https://www.regulation.org.uk/library/2019-Litlechild-Life_before_Economic_Regulation.pdf [https://perma.cc/KTB4-S7D2]. Over the next two decades, Littlechild emerged as an outspoken critic of the failures of state ownership and planning.169In 1978, for example, Littlechild published a monograph that provided his own Austrian critique of government planning and the mixed economy, with significant attention to the failures of state ownership and planning in the UK. See generally Littlechild, supra note 49. Littlechild also made extensive use of public choice theory and the critique of economic regulation that was hitting full stride in the United States during the economic crisis of the 1970s. See generally id. In 1981, he published a manifesto on “denationalization” urging the Thatcher government to complete the task of privatization that it had begun.170S.C. Littlechild, Ten Steps to Denationalisation, Econ. Affs., Oct. 1981, at 11, 15 (“The general picture, then, is of a government mostly moving in the right direction, but by no means as far or fast as desirable.”). On electricity, Littlechild noted that the “promise to allow private companies to sell electricity has not been kept.” Id. “[T]he real task,” he noted, “is not to control the industries but to control the government itself.”171Id. at 12. And the way to do that was to sell off as many of the state-owned industries as possible and subject them to market forces.172Id.; see also Michael Beesley & Stephen Littlechild, Privatization: Principles, Problems and Priorities, 149 Lloyds Bank Rev. 1, 1 (1983) (“[T]he underlying idea [of privatization] is to improve industry performance by increasing the role of market forces.”). “What the Post Office needs,” he argued, “is an imaginative asset stripper.”173Littlechild, supra note 170, at 18.

During the second half of the 1980s, Littlechild and his colleagues worked to develop and pursue a comprehensive overhaul of the electricity industry built around privatization, unbundling, and market competition.174It is not clear how much the ongoing experiment in Chile influenced Littlechild and the other proponents of privatization and restructuring in the UK. Littlechild was clearly aware of Bernstein and his efforts in Chile. See, e.g., S.C. Littlechild, Spot Pricing of Electricity: Arguments and Prospects, Energy Pol’y, Aug. 1988, at 398, 403 (referencing Bernstein’s discussion of efforts in Chile to develop spot pricing as part of a privatized and liberalized electricity sector). But there is no evidence that they looked to Chile for anything more than general support for privatization. Indeed, when it came to the details of the new system, the architects of the UK electricity experiment followed many of the “textbook” recommendations for restructuring that had been proposed by Paul Joskow and Richard Schmalensee in their 1983 book, Markets for Power, supra note 52. In 2006, Joskow praised the UK experiment for sticking to the key components:

In my view, the gold standard for electricity sector reform is England and Wales. . . . The reforms followed the basic architecture of the textbook model and have led to significant performance improvements in many dimensions. This is not to say that everything worked perfectly. Clearly, the decision to create only three generating companies, two of which set the clearing price in the wholesale market in almost all hours, led to significant market power problems that persisted for several years.

Joskow, supra note 10, at 8.
A 1988 government White Paper, Privatizing Electricity, provided the basic blueprint that was then incorporated into legislation the following year.175See Sec’y State Energy, Privatising Electricity: The Government’s Proposals for the Privatisation of the Electricity Supply Industry in England and Wales, 1988, Cm. 322 (UK). See generally Electricity Act 1989, c.29 (UK). Although it did not go as far as Littlechild hoped, the new law was quite a radical departure from the past. The old Central Electricity Generating Board would be divided into two private generating companies (National Power and PowerGen), a separate transmission company (National Grid), and a group of twelve regional distribution companies that would together own the holding company that governed National Grid.176Electricity Act 1989, c.29, §§ 65–95 (UK) (providing for the transfer of property from the CEGB, area boards, and other state-owned entities to private companies nominated by the Secretary of State and for the subsequent governance and capitalization of the new companies). The two new private generating companies, National Power and PowerGen, together controlled close to 80% of the generating capacity of the country, leading some to worry (correctly) that any new market would be subject to significant market power.177See Richard J. Green & David M. Newbery, Competition in the British Electricity Spot Market, 100 J. Pol. Econ. 929, 930 (1992). The reason for sticking with two large companies was because the government had hoped that the larger of the two would be able to take ownership of the country’s nuclear power plants and that the other company needed to be sufficiently large to compete.178See Richard Green, Failing Electricity Markets: Should We Shoot the Pools?, 11 Utils. Pol’y 155, 158 (2003) (noting that the larger generating company, National Power, “was created in the hope that [it] could absorb the risks of the nuclear stations’ future performance”). When the government decided that nuclear was too risky and too expensive to put in the mix, it was apparently too late to go back and create more private generating companies.179Id. In effect, the government assumed that the lure of large profits would quickly take care of the problem by encouraging entry, particularly of new combined-cycle natural gas plants.180Green & Newbery, supra note 177, at 930 (noting assumptions among the architects of privatization that the availability of new high-efficiency combined-cycle gas turbines made “entry at modest scales (300–600 megawatts [MW]) simple and quick”). As long as these markets were contestable, in other words, any problems of market power would be short lived.

Thatcher, of course, also recognized that privatization and liberalization of electricity markets gave her a tool to discipline labor and, specifically, to break the powerful coal mining unions’ grip on the national economy.181See Helm, supra note 153, at 73–88 (discussing the battle between the Thatcher government and the powerful coal miners union during the 1980s, and observing that the move to private ownership and competition in electricity consummated Thatcher’s victory over the unions); Mike Parker, Effects on Demands for Fossil Fuels, in The British Electricity Experiment 122–23 (John Surrey ed., 1996) (discussing general hostility of Thatcher, Nigel Lawson, and Cecil Parkinson to the National Union of Mineworkers); see also id. at 123 (quoting Thatcher’s statement that “by the 1970s the coal mining industry had come to symbolise everything that was wrong with Britain” and that defeat of the union in the mid-1980s made clear “the Britain could not be made ungovernable by the Fascist Left”). Privatization and the so-called dash-for-gas after the discovery of large natural gas fields in the North Sea operated in this respect as a proxy in a larger fight between capital and labor with the state coming down firmly on the side of capital.182See Parker, supra note 181, at 127–28 (discussing the “dash-for-gas” and the growth of combined-cycle natural gas power plants and noting the significant impact on coal). To that end, neoliberal electricity proved to be singularly effective, decimating the coal mining labor force as new combined-cycle gas-fired generation replaced older coal burning plants.183See U.K. Dep’t for Bus., Energy & Indus. Strategy, Coal Generation in Great Britain: The Pathway to a Low-Carbon Future, Consultation Document 9 fig.1 (2016) (showing significant displacement of coal-fired generation by natural gas generation during the 1990s). By 1990, the number of coal miners had fallen from nearly 200,000 in 1985 to about 70,000.184See David Newbery, Electricity Liberalization in Britain and the Evolution of Market Design, in Electricity Market Reform: An International Perspective 109, 118 (Fereidoon P. Sioshansi & Wolgang Pfaffenberger eds., 2005). Eight years later, the total stood at less than 10,000.185Id.

In an effort to ensure marginal cost pricing, the UK market design also established a new mandatory Electricity Pool that would operate as a centralized day-ahead market (priced on half-hour increments) that would determine the merit order for dispatching generation and the wholesale spot price of electricity.186Id. at 113. The Pool used the basic single-clearing price auction format with the last increment of generation needed to meet load setting the System Marginal Price.187Id. at 113–14; see also Helm, supra note 153, at 133. The basic design of the Pool came from Sally Hunt, a consultant with NERA, and a team at Price Waterhouse. See Bolton, supra note 112, at 105; see also Sally Hunt & Graham Shuttleworth, Competition and Choice in Electricity 167–80 (1996) (describing basic design of the UK electricity Pool). The basic approach (and software) used to rank generators as a basis for economic dispatch was the same as had been used previously by the CEGB, except that the generators were now free to submit bids made up of various “price components” as opposed to actual cost information.188See Green, supra note 178, at 156 (“[T]he Electricity Pool of England and Wales basically replicated the CEGB’s procedures for scheduling generation. In the past, a computer algorithm had taken vectors of cost information and operating parameters for each generating set, and calculated the least-cost schedule that would meet the demand forecast for the following day. The Pool used the same computer program, but the companies could submit five price components in place of the vector of cost information. An extra program was written to average these price components and obtain the cost of power from each station—the System Marginal Price (SMP) was based upon the bid of the most expensive station in normal operation in each half-hour.”). Additional payments for capacity tied to the value of lost load during peak periods were also provided with the intention of ensuring a sufficient reserve margin and to provide a signal for new investment. Uplift payments were also added to the final price during periods of high demand in order to cover additional costs associated with reserve, availability, and ancillary services (reactive power, voltage and frequency control, and so forth). Helm, supra note 153, at 133–34.

From the beginning, however, the Pool struggled with problems of market power.189These problems of market power were evident as early as 1992. See generally Green & Newbery, supra note 177. With two big generators controlling the vast majority of generating capacity, clearing prices tended to be much higher than marginal cost pricing would suggest.190See Green, supra note 178, at 160 (“The fact that all stations received the price set by the marginal bidder was also believed to make the Pool more vulnerable to the exercise of market power.”); see also Catherine D. Wolfram, Measuring Duopoly Power in the British Electricity Spot Market, 89 Am. Econ. Rev. 805, 821 (1999) (finding that the privatized generators were “charging prices significantly higher than their observed marginal costs” but noting that they had not taken full advantage of their pricing power as predicted by standard oligopoly models, perhaps to “deter new entrants or stave off substantial regulatory action”). According to one early study, the proponents of privatization had “seriously underestimated” the exercise of market power in the Pool and the impacts on consumers.191Green & Newbery, supra note 177, at 952. Thus, over the first three years of the Pool, annual average Pool prices increased by more than 30% in real terms, even as fuel prices declined and the country struggled through a recession.192See, e.g., Off. of Elec. Regul., Review of Electricity Trading Arrangements, Background Paper 1: Electricity Trading Arrangements in England and Wales 20 (1998).

None of this should have been surprising. The basic design of the Pool allowed two generating companies controlling close to 80% of generation capacity and almost all of the price-setting marginal plants to participate in a new market for electricity based on software that they were intimately familiar with.193See Richard J. Green, Electricity Deregulation in England and Wales, in Deregulation of Electric Utils. 184 (Georges Zaccour ed., 1998) (observing that National Power and PowerGen “had the ability and incentive to raise Pool prices to undesirable levels, earning large profits in the process. . . . because they own practically all the price-setting plant, and could raise Pool prices by raising these plants’ bids, with little risk of being displaced by other generators”). Instead of using objective facts about the costs of their various generation units to establish the system marginal cost and merit order for dispatch, they were now free to submit prices based on a complex set of factors that were not tied to costs in any transparent or objective way.194See, e.g., David Newbery, Electricity Liberalization in Britain: The Quest for a Satisfactory Wholesale Market Design, 26 Energy J. 43, 46 (2005) (“The System Operator (National Grid) used the same (rather ancient) software GOAL to dispatch plant as the former CEGB. As the successor companies had copies of GOAL, they could shape the rather complex individual plant bids (start-up, no-load, and three incremental prices plus various technical parameters) to optimise their revenue, rather than bidding the true parameters.”).

To be sure, the new generating companies did have incentives to improve performance, something they delivered on with great success.195Id. at 52 (documenting improvements in performance). The problem, however, was that the gains in performance were captured as profits for the generating companies rather than as lower costs for consumers.196Id. at 54 (“Privatisation, combined with unbundling and a transparent wholesale market, provided incentives for considerable efficiency improvements, but the concentrated market structure initially allowed the incumbent generators to retain these cost reductions as enhanced profits.”). One study from 1997 found, in fact, that despite the improvements in efficiency UK consumers were worse off than they would have been under the old CEGB regime.197Id. (citing a 1997 study finding “that while the overall simple sum of net benefits of privatising the CEGB was nearly £10 billion, consumers lost relative to the counterfactual in which fuel prices fell and the CEGB had set prices as in the past, while the owners of the generation companies gained very substantially”).

The new electricity market, in short, was not a contestable market.198See Green & Newbery, supra note 177, at 947 (“The electricity pool is certainly not a contestable market. Incumbents can change their prices every day, whereas CCGT [combined-cycle gas turbines] power stations, the entrants preferred technology, take 2 or 3 years to build and commission.”). Even when entry did materialize, moreover, the single-price auction combined with the complexity of price formation provided ample opportunities for the incumbents to exercise market power across a range of different strategies.199See, e.g., Green, supra note 193, at 184; see also Off. of Elec. Regul., Review of Electricity Trading Arrangements: Working Paper on Trading Inside and Outside the Pool 4–5 (1998) (recounting criticisms that the complexities of price formation and the single-price auction allowed generators to exercise more market power than would have been possible under a more traditional market structure); Helm, supra note 153, at 309 (“In the 1990s, the two main generators National Power and PowerGen, set the price most of the time.”). Put crudely, asset stripping had succeeded in creating exceptional profit opportunities for the new private electricity companies, while delivering little if any value to customers.

During the 1990s, as their profits soared, the new private electricity companies collectively laid off roughly half of their workforce while bestowing massive dividends on their shareholders.200See Preetum Domah & Michael G. Pollit, The Restructuring and Privatization of the Regional Electricity Companies in England and Wales: A Social Cost-Benefit Analysis, 22 Fiscal Studs. 107, 107 (2001); Robert Jupe, The Privatization of British Energy: Risk Transfer and the State, 37 Acct. Orgs. and Soc’y 116, 120 (2012). With a capital markets environment that was increasingly conducive to corporate acquisitions, the prospect of large profits was not lost on outsiders. Starting in the mid 1990s, various foreign companies, first from America and then from France and Germany, began buying assets and companies to gain a foothold in the lucrative UK electricity market. Politicians and regulators stood by and watched (they “simply let it happen,” as Dieter Helm observed), without thinking through the long-term implications.201See Helm, supra note 153, at 241 (“Thus, by 2002, the British electricity industry had become in large part an adjunct to the European one, in the hands of the Germans and the French. The consequences were not thought through at the time, but were to have radical ramifications for energy policy. The vision of a disaggregated market with many generators and many suppliers competing in a standardized transparent pool, with a supporting futures market absorbing the risk of long-term contracts, had gone. Politicians and regulators had simply let it happen.”).

Meanwhile the government had become thoroughly disenchanted with the single-clearing price design of the Pool in the face of persistently high wholesale prices, publishing an extensive set of reviews in 1998 and announcing that the Pool would be replaced with the so-called New Electricity Trading Arrangements (“NETA”).202See, e.g., Off. of Elec. Regul., Review of Electricity Trading Arrangements: Framework Document 10–12 (1998) (describing proposal for new electricity trading arrangements). After several years of work, NETA went live in 2001 and was built around a system of decentralized bilateral contracting, an auction-based market for short-term balancing that would be based on a discriminatory “pay-as-bid” format rather than the single- or uniform- clearing price design of the Pool, and heavier reliance on financial instruments for hedging.203See Off. of Gas & Elec. Mkts. (“Ofgem”), The New Electricity Trading Arrangements: A Review of the First Three Months 3–4 (2001) (providing overview of NETA). The goal of the new trading arrangements, according to Ofgem, was to “operate as far as possible like other commodity markets whilst, at the same time, making provision for the electricity system to be kept in physical balance at all times to maintain security and quality of supplies.” Id. at 3. For a discussion of the switch from the uniform- or single-clearing price auction design of the Pool to a discriminatory pay-as-bid format, see Catherine D. Wolfram, Electricity Markets: Should the Rest of the World Adopt the United Kingdom’s Reforms, 22 Regul. 48, 50–52 (1999). As Wolfram points out, and as others have noted in the context of other electricity markets, the pay-as-bid format does not necessarily solve the problems of the single-price auction because it changes the incentives for the generators to guess the clearing price, with the overall result that in concentrated markets, the prices do not change as much as one might expect. Id.; see also Lin & Magnago, supra note 115, at 225 (observing that “pay-as-bid” pricing creates incentives for generators to “submit offers that reflected their best guess at what the cleared price will be for the most expensive needed resource, instead of bidding their actual costs as they do in a uniform-price auction”). In many ways, NETA turned out to be even more complex than the Pool and, if anything, pushed companies to further consolidate and, where possible, integrate backwards and forwards in order to hedge against the additional uncertainty.204See Helm, supra note 153, at 319 (discussing the complexity of NETA and general lack of understanding among regulators); Meek, supra note 160, at 133 (“Neta was fantastically complex. There is no evidence to suggest that any elected politician has ever understood how it worked (any more than they understand its byzantine predecessor the ‘Pool’). Some specialists believe that civil servants do not understand it either. How could they? Its arcane codexes are intelligible only to corporate lawyers and accountants. Yet there was one important clue to how Neta worked: the electricity companies were all for it.”). Wholesale prices did decline in the run-up to NETA and for a time after it was launched, but these declines did not translate into lower prices for domestic consumers and the factors driving these price declines likely had as much to do with new natural gas generating capacity coming online as the move away from the Pool. See Comm. of Public Accounts, The New Electricity Trading Arrangements in England and Wales, 2003–4, HC 63, at 4 (UK) (“Electricity prices have fallen, but by much less for domestic customers than for industrial and commercial customers. Wholesale prices have fallen by around 40% since 1998 and reductions for industrial and commercial customers have been consistent with this fall. But domestic reductions have been much smaller and only 1% to 3% since NETA was implemented in 2001.”).

By the mid-2000s, then, fifteen years into the experiment with privatization, the UK electricity sector was dominated by large, vertically integrated firms, many of them foreign owned (and some state owned).205After divesting some of their generation capacity in response to the Government’s legitimate concerns with market power, the generation companies were “free to buy the supply (retailing) businesses originally integrated with distribution in the [Regional Electricity Companies]. The market evolved toward the current Bix Six generators plus retailers.” Michael Grubb & David Newbery, UK Electricity Market Reform and the Energy Transition: Emerging Lessons, 39 Energy J. 1, 4 (2018). NETA reinforced all of this. As Grubb and Newbery observe, “[T]he risk of incentives to manipulate the spot market was replaced by a clear incentive to vertical integration: the merger of retailing and generation companies ensured that they were automatically hedged against electricity price uncertainties, since they would be selling wholesale to themselves. However, this in turn created major barriers to entry, and a perception of the electricity system as an oligopoly of major power companies controlling the entire system from generation to consumptions.” Id. Indeed, one of the great ironies of the UK experiment is that the buyers of many of the formerly state-owned power sector assets were large state-owned enterprises from the continent such as Électricité de France.206See Meek, supra note 160, at 121 (“The most unexpected consequence of selling the country’s electric legacy, the consequence that most directly contradicts what the Thatcherites were trying to do, was the gradual absorption of swathes of the industry by EDF. Beginning with the takeover of London Electricity in 1998, exploiting the Thatcherites open-door market structures and their decision to split the electricity industry into small, easy-to-swallow chunks, France in effect renationalised the industry its neighbor had so painstakingly privatised. Renationalised it, that is, for France.”). Without question, this was not the result that Margaret Thatcher and her lieutenants imagined when they embarked on privatization in the 1980s. In less than a generation, the UK had transferred a large part of its vital infrastructure, and along with it the right to tax the British public for the use of that infrastructure, to a wholly owned subsidiary of the French government.207See, e.g., Meek, supra note 160, at 149–50 (“[T]he realities of privatising essential services—that what is being sold is not infrastructure, but bill-paying citizens, and what is being privatized is not electricity but taxation. Effectively, the French and Chinese governments are buying the right to tax British electricity customers through their electricity bills.”).

Perhaps even more concerning was the fact that the new markets did not seem to be creating sufficient incentives for new investment, especially in renewables. In response, the Government launched another Electricity Market Reform (“EMR”) package in 2013 with the goal of ensuring security of supply and ramping up support for renewables.208See U.K. Dep’t of Energy & Climate Change, Electricity Market Reform: Consultation on Proposals for Implementation, 2013, Cm 8706, at 10 (Oct. 2013) (summarizing key objectives of the EMR, including incentivizing substantial new investment in low-carbon generation while ensuring reliability and affordability). One major goal of the EMR was to ensure an additional £110 billion in capital investment in the sector by 2020. Id.; see also Grubb & Newbery, supra note 205, at 1 (“The proximate causes of Electricity Market Reform were the impending closure of old fossil and nuclear plant with a lack of willingness to invest in new gas-fired generation, and the need to decarbonize the electricity sector without raising consumer costs excessively.”). On security of supply, the EMR provided for new capacity payments that would be paid for firm generation, following the pattern in most electricity markets of establishing new capacity remuneration mechanisms to address underinvestment.209See U.K. Dep’t of Energy & Climate Change, supra note 208, at 137–44 (describing the overall framework and workings of the new capacity market and its relationship to the existing electricity market). On renewables, the EMR created a new government-owned entity, the Low Carbon Contracts Company, that would enter into fifteen-year contracts with renewables projects.210The Low Carbon Contracts Company (“LCCC”) is a private company owned by the UK Government’s Department of Energy Security and Net Zero. The LCCC is the counterparty for the private law contracts with renewables developers. For more details, see Low Carbon Contracts Company, https://www.lowcarboncontracts.uk [perma.cc/NK7R-6ETA]. See also Dep’t for Energy Sec. & Net Zero, Contracts for Difference, GOV.UK (Nov. 9, 2016), https://www.gov.uk/government/collections/contracts-for-difference [perma.cc/NYF3-7B2C]. These new contracts would be based on a “contracts for difference” price term that made the renewables projects indifferent to prevailing market prices.211See U.K. Dep’t of Energy & Climate Change, Electricity Market Reform: Delivery Plan 10 (2013) (“[Contracts for Difference] will support low-carbon generation by giving eligible generators increased price certainty through a long-term contract. A CfD will largely remove exposure to volatile wholesale prices during the CfD period, reducing investment risk. Generators will receive revenue from selling their electricity into the market as usual and will also receive a top-up to a pre agreed ‘strike price.’ If the market price is over the strike price then the generator must pay back the difference.”). This was deemed essential to providing the long-term predictability needed to drive investment in renewables.212See U.K. Dep’t of Energy & Climate Change, Electricity Market Reform: Delivering Investment, 2013, Cm. 8674, at 7 (“The CfD reduces costs to developers of financing a project, by reducing exposure to volatile wholesale prices and reducing project risks. It also provides investors with a familiar legal framework by establishing a CfD as a private law contract, with a single Government-owned counterparty that can raise money from electricity suppliers.”). In effect, renewable energy projects were now operating entirely outside of the formal electricity market and enjoyed the benefit of the state as a counterparty for long-term contracts with guaranteed prices.213It is important to note here that these renewables contracts are awarded through a competitive bidding process based on regular auctions or “allocation rounds,” in which the project owners submit their bids at particular “strike prices” up to a maximum strike price set by the Government. The price bid by the last awarded project need to meet the capacity or pre-established budget constraint set in the auction then establishes the price for the other winning projects in the same category (e.g., off-shore wind). See Nicole Watson & Paul Bolton, Contracts for Difference 6–7 (House of Commons Library, Research Briefing No. 9871, 2003) (describing how the auction process works).

Although the EMR represented a retreat from markets as an instrument for achieving the UK’s ambitious and legally binding decarbonization targets, it left the struggling retail electricity sector largely untouched. Under the UK’s approach to liberalized electricity markets, retail competition in electricity had been phased in over the course of the 1990s, with the residential market opened to competition in 1998.214 See Stephen Littlechild, The Evolution of Competitive Retail Electricity Markets, in Handbook on Electricity Markets 111, 112–16 (Jean-Michel Glachant et al. eds., 2021) (describing the evolution of retail competition in electricity in the UK). By the 2010s, however, it was clear that most residential customers were not actively engaged in choosing their retail providers, that the retail supplier market was highly concentrated, and that poor and vulnerable customers had fewer choices and typically paid more than wealthier customers.215See UK Competition & Mkts. Auth., Energy Market Investigation: Final Report 549 (2016). An investigation by the Competition and Markets Authority in 2016, for example, found that the concentrated retail electricity sector (dominated by the so-called Big Six) combined with widespread customer disengagement led to excessive prices and reduced quality of service.216See id. at 631–33 (finding excessive prices and reduced quality of service for retail customers). Customers on prepayment meters (around 15% of all electricity customers by 2015) also paid higher prices than those on standard tariffs.217Id. at 35–36, 40 (discussing challenges facing customers on prepayment meters), 46 (finding that excessive pricing is “significantly higher” for prepayment customers). As wholesale prices continued to rise throughout the 2010s, more and more customers ended up behind on their bills, many of whom were placed on prepayment meters, often installed without their consent.218See David Newbery, The Evolution of the British Electricity Market and the Role of Policy for the Low-Carbon Future, in Evolution of Global Electricity Markets: New Paradigms, New Challenges, New Approaches 3, 15–16 (Fereidoon Sioshani ed., 2013) (discussing growth of retail competition and move to prepayment meters). By 2018, the government regulator Ofgem reported that there were 4.4 million residential electricity customers on prepayment meters across the UK and that the cheapest prepayment plans were “significantly more expensive” than the standard plans based on credit (where customers are billed for their use after the fact).219See Ofgem, Vulnerable Consumers in the Energy Market: 2019 50 (2019) (“Prepayment meter customers can be limited in the deals they are able to access in comparison to customers on credit meters. The cheapest prepayment tariffs can be significantly more expensive than those available on credit.”); see also id. at 49 (“There were . . . 4.4 million electricity and 3.4 million gas customers on a [pre-payment meter] in 2018.”).

Thus, by the time of the Russian invasion of Ukraine in early 2022, the system was already in crisis, with millions of customers behind on their bills and millions more on prepayment meters struggling to keep the lights on.220See Ofgem, Consumer Perceptions of the Energy Market Q4 2022 23 (2023). Chronic underinvestment after years of asset sweating combined with financial engineering attached to dubious takeovers had left the system exhausted and unable to deliver affordable, reliable electricity. As prices spiked to unimaginable levels in the second half of 2022 (after steadily rising for more than a decade), the public backlash forced a succession of Conservative governments to take extraordinary measures to protect households and launch yet another effort to reform the electricity market.221The Government launched its latest Review of Energy Market Arrangements (REMA) in 2022 which completed a second consultation process in May 2024. See Dep’t for Bus., Energy & Indus. Strategy, supra note 9, at 7; Dep’t of Energy Sec. & Net Zero, Review of Electricity Market Arrangements: Second Consultation Document 9–14 (2024) (discussing problems with current market structures and proposal for reform and targeting mid-2025 for conclusion of policy development and move to implementation). For the first time in a generation, grassroots campaigns such as Don’t Pay UK focused directly on the cost of energy and its place in a broader cost-of-living crisis, underscoring the failure of neoliberal electricity to deliver stable and affordable electricity for the public.

3.  California and the U.S.

A decade after the Thatcher Government launched their efforts to privatize the UK electricity sector, California took the lead in the United States to restructure and liberalize electricity under Republican Governor Pete Wilson, who was eager to prove his pro-market bona fides as he prepared for a possible Presidential run.222See, e.g., Dan Morain, Deregulation Bill Signed by Wilson, L.A. Times (Sept. 24, 1996, 12:00 A.M.), https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1996-09-24-mn-47043-story.html [https://perma.cc/7BV4-WKUE]. Reacting to a growing chorus of concerns about California’s deteriorating “business climate,” Wilson was apparently intrigued by the idea of unleashing the forces of competition to reduce the price of electricity in a state that had some of the highest prices in the country.223Id. (“[This] landmark legislation is a major step in our efforts to guarantee lower rates, provide consumer choice and offer reliable service, so no one literally is left in the dark. We’ve pulled the plug on another outdated monopoly and replaced it with the promise of a new era of competition.”) (quoting Governor Wilson’s statement upon signing the legislation). These high prices stemmed in part from excessive spending by utilities, including on some very expensive nuclear power plants, but they also reflected California’s decision to mandate generous long-term contracts for renewable power under PURPA, which in turn provided a crucial basis for the development of the wind industry in California and beyond.224See Richard F. Hirsch, Power Loss: The Origins of Deregulation and Restructuring in the American Electric Utility System 93–96 (2002) (discussing California’s generous Public Utility Regulatory Policy Act (“PURPA”) contracts for renewables). It is worth noting that California’s generous PURPA contracts and other supports for renewables provided a critical boost to the renewables industry. By the mid 1990s, for example, a significant share of the world’s installed wind capacity was in California. See Overview of Wind Energy in California, Cal. Energy Comm’n, http://www.energy.ca.gov/wind/overview.html [https://web.archive.org/web/20170118102209/http://www.energy.ca.gov/wind/overview.html] (noting that California wind farms produced 30% of the world’s wind energy in 1995).

In the mid-1990s, Wilson appointed UC Davis Law Professor Daniel Fessler as President of the state Public Utilities Commission and charged him with leading the effort.225See Steve Isser, Electricity Restructuring in the United States: Markets and Policy from the 1978 Energy Act to the Present 234 (2015) (“Fessler was a UC Davis contracts law professor who had no particular background in energy issues, but he did boast a conservative ideology and the friendship of the state’s First Lady Gale Wilson. That was enough to make him Wilson’s choice as president of the CPUC in 1991.”). Isser quotes Fessler’s reflection on his appointment: “The fact that I had no involvement with, or experience in, the energy, telecommunications, water and transport mandates of that Commission [the PUC] made me the ideal candidate.” Id. at 234, n.4 (quoting Fessler). Fessler, who had no background or experience in electricity, was a committed free marketeer and an unabashed anglophile.226Id. at 234; see also Bill Bradley, Master of Disaster, LA Weekly (Feb 14, 2001), https://www.laweekly.com/master-of-disaster [https://perma.cc/F8UL-LGA9]; Arthur J. O’Donnell, Soul of the Grid: A Cultural Biography of the California Independent System Operator 13–14 (2013) (discussing Fessler’s background and noting that he was a scholar of the origins of common carrier regulation). After a trip to the UK as part of a delegation of electricity industry leaders and regulators from California, during which they met with Lawson, Littlechild, and Margaret Thatcher, Fessler came back committed to the idea of harnessing the price system to create a new market for electricity in the Golden State.227Isser, supra note 225, at 234; see also Duncan Campbell, Thatcher Caught in the Spotlight, Guardian (Apr. 25, 2001, 7:25 PM), https://www.theguardian.com/world/2001/apr/25/worlddispatch.duncancampbell [https://perma.cc/UGV2-5AZD]. All of which found support from longstanding proponents of deregulation and a growing push by economists to embrace markets for electric power.228See generally, e.g., Joskow & Schmalensee, supra note 52.

The California Public Utilities Commission (“CPUC”) took the lead, issuing background documents and instituting a proceeding to develop a blueprint for deregulation.229See generally Cal. Pub. Utils. Comm’n, Div. of Strategic Planning, California’s Electric Services Industry: Perspectives on the Past, Strategies for the Future (1993) [hereinafter The Yellow Book]; Order Instituting Rulemaking on the Commission’s Proposed Policies Governing California’s Electric Services Industry and Reforming Regulation, R.94-04-031 (Cal. Pub. Utils. Comm’n, Apr. 20, 1994) [hereinafter The Blue Book]. Not to be outdone, the California legislature passed new legislation (A.B. 1890) in 1996 that established the basic legal framework for deregulation.230A.B. 1890, 1995–96 Leg., Reg. Sess. (Cal. 1996). Much of this was simply a repackaging of the earlier PUC plan. Under the legislation, the state’s three large IOUs would divest 50% of their fossil fuel generation and would receive payments for their remaining stranded costs.231See Timothy P. Duane, Regulation’s Rationale: Learning from the California Energy Crisis, 19 Yale J. on Reg. 471, 501–04 (2002) (discussing divestment and treatment of stranded costs under the state’s plan for restructuring). As Duane notes, “AB 1890 required the utilities to sell off half of their oil- and gas-fired facilities, but the utilities went further (with CPUC encouragement) and sold off nearly their entire fossil-fired generation systems. All told, the utilities sold 18,348 MW of generation with a book value of $1.76 billion for $3.33 billion . . . . The ratepayers of the state, therefore, allowed the sale of generation facilities with relatively predictable costs—the capital recovery on $1.76 billion plus fuel and other variable operating costs—in exchange for the possibility of cheaper power to be provided by companies that had just spent nearly twice the book value of the generating assets the ratepayers had just given up. The $3.33 billion earned on the asset sales, meanwhile, went directly to the utilities rather than to ratepayers. The utilities then fed that money to their parent corporations, who fed it either directly to shareholders through dividends and stock repurchases (which decreased dilution and increased the value of remaining shares) or indirectly through investments in unregulated affiliates (whose assets were not subject to regulation or reachable by the utilities’ creditors or ratepayers).” Id. at 503–04 (footnotes omitted). Going forward, they were prohibited from signing long-term contracts for power and forced to buy all of their power needs in the state’s new spot market for electricity.232d. at 497–99 (discussing concerns over vertical market power and the decision to force the vast majority (80 to 85%) of electricity sales through the short-term spot market). Retail electricity rates were also reduced by 10% and frozen for four years or until the utilities had recovered their stranded costs.233d. at 501–02 (discussing details of the rate freeze and noting that it actually operated as a rate floor for the first two years of the market allowing the utilities to transfer billions of dollars to their parent corporations and affiliates from April 1998 to April 2000).

Contrary to what some might have expected, the incumbent utilities initially favored restructuring, presumably because they would be free to play a more active role in deregulated electricity markets in the U.S. and abroad and because of the generous treatment they received for their stranded assets and divested generation.234ee Isser, supra note 225, at 238 (discussing early role of the major investor-owned utilities (“IOUs”) in trying to influence the process). But see Matthew W. White, Power Struggles: Explaining Deregulatory Reforms in Electricity Markets, 1996 Brookings Papers: Microeconomics 201, 209–10 (discussing substantial negative impact of initial restructuring decisions on the valuation of California’s three IOUs). Traders such as Enron, of course, were also heavily in favor of restructuring and saw the California market as an opportunity to further dominate the emerging markets for electricity and natural gas across the United States.235See, e.g., Gavin Benke, Risk and Ruin: Enron and the Culture of American Capitalism 139–40 (2018) (discussing Enron’s central role in pushing for electricity deregulation in California); see also Isser, supra note 225, at 237 (“Enron was a key supporter of deregulation, constantly drumming the message that deregulation would save billions for California consumers.”); id. at 194 (discussing Enron’s advocacy for deregulation across multiple markets). The state’s large industrial and agricultural customers always weighed strongly in favor of restructuring.236See Isser, supra note 225, at 236–37.

The basic market design was similar to the Pool in the UK. A new FERC regulated entity, the California Power Exchange (“Cal PX”), would run the wholesale day-ahead spot market, while the California Independent System Operator (“CAISO”) would manage the real-time and ancillary services markets to ensure overall system reliability.237Id. at 244–25 (discussing basic design of the California Power Exchange (“Cal PX”) and California Independent System Operator (“CAISO”) markets). As noted, Robert Wilson was one of the key architects of the new markets, all of which used the single-clearing price design.238Id. (noting Wilson’s role in the design of the California market and his “triumph” over consumer advocates on the issue of the single-price auction).

The market went live in 1998 and for the first couple of years it functioned without major problems.239See Borenstein supra note 26, at 195 (“Many people were surprised by the market disruption, but in retrospect, the surprise should have been that the market, as it was designed, took two years to self-destruct.”). Starting in the summer of 2000, however, prices in the spot market increased by more than 1,000% and continued at very high levels into the next year.240See Christopher Weare, The California Electricity Crisis: Causes and Policy Options 26–27 (2003). Because of the retail rate freeze, however, the utilities could not pass along their higher costs and there was no real demand response. And without long-term contracts, they were unable to hedge their exposure to spot market prices. Forced to buy high and sell low, the utilities faced deepening credit problems. Pacific Gas & Electric (“PG&E”), the state’s largest utility, filed for bankruptcy in April 2001 and Southern California Edison was forced into quasi-receivership with the state’s PUC. Rolling blackouts were common, while manipulation of gas and electricity markets reached “epidemic” levels according to FERC.241Fed. Energy Regul. Comm’n, Final Report on Price Manipulation in Western Energy Markets I-18 (2003). Overall, Californians paid an estimated $40 billion in excess energy costs during the crisis.242Weare, supra note 240, at 3–4. Litigation to recover these costs is ongoing, more than twenty years later.243See Energy Unit, Att’y Gen. Off., https://oag.ca.gov/cfs/energy [https://perma.cc/ED2J-W3XB].

Most explanations for the crisis have highlighted bad market design, a naive and ineffective federal regulator, and widespread gaming and manipulation by traders such as Enron.244There is voluminous literature on the California electricity crisis. See, e.g., Weare, supra note 240, at 1–2 (describing the severe malfunctioning of the California electricity market); Paul L. Joskow, California’s Electricity Crisis, 17 Oxford Rev. Econ. Pol’y 365, 377–78 (2001) (discussing increases in wholesale electricity prices in California); Duane, supra note 231, at 511–17 (discussing major factors leading to the California market meltdown in 2000–01); David B. Spence, The Politics of Electricity Restructuring: Theory vs. Practice, 40 Wake Forest L. Rev. 417, 417 (2005) (discussing California’s “disastrous experience” with restructured electricity markets); Isser, supra note 225, at 275–85 (discussing market manipulation and exercise of market power in California electricity crisis). All of that in combination with hot and dry conditions across the western United States, which cut back on imports of power into California, and a general lack of new generation capacity in the state, made for a perfect storm of market dysfunction.

But a big part of that market dysfunction also stemmed from the widespread exercise of market power by new merchant generators who withheld generation during crucial periods of scarcity, allowing them to drive the single-clearing price to very high levels.245See, e.g., Borenstein, supra note 26, at 191; see also Duane, supra note 231, at 513 (“There was not a single day in the winter and spring of 2001 when total system demand was greater than California-installed generating capacity. Instead, rolling blackouts occurred because generating units were ‘unavailable’ at a rate four to five times the historic or industry averages, even after accounting for the age of the facilities . . . . The shortages that caused the rolling blackouts were therefore an institutional artifact of California’s market structure rather than a physical phenomenon.”). Under the original restructuring plan, when the IOUs divested the bulk of their generation capacity, five main companies each ended up with between six and eight percent of total generation capacity.246See Borenstein, supra note 26, at 195. While that might not sound like much, during periods of peak demand, when essentially all of the available generation capacity was needed to meet load, these generators could wield enormous influence over the clearing price by simply withholding marginal generating units.247Id. at 200; see also Isser, supra note 225, at 250 (discussing evidence of strategic bidding and withholding by gas-fired thermal generation units during the early years of the California wholesale power market). Here again, an overreliance on the theory of contestable markets, combined with the failure to recognize the intense gaming that the single-clearing price design created, led to major problems.248The other important point to note here is that these merchant generators were also able to acquire substantial information on the cost structures of the entire generation fleet serving the California market. Specialized consulting firms compile and provide detailed data on individual plants throughout the western interconnect to merchant generators and energy traders. See McDiarmid et al., supra note 116, at 14 (noting widespread availability of plant-level data and extensive use of models to combine this data with models on overall operating conditions and transmission constraints to provide a pretty good idea of what every supplier should be bidding for every unit). If everyone knows (or can easily determine) the cost structures and operating conditions of every generating unit in a relevant market, there is no knowledge problem for the markets to solve.

In the wake of the California crisis, other states that had been actively pursuing deregulation pulled back, leaving the U.S. with a fragmented regulatory landscape with three major regulatory models in use across the country.249See Boyd & Carlson, supra note 36, at 835–40 (2016) (discussing three models). Nevertheless, the basic model of wholesale electricity markets that was first attempted in California has survived with various adjustments.250Proponents of restructuring sometimes framed the choice as an epic battle between markets and Soviet-style central planning. See Bernard S. Black & Richard J. Pierce, Jr., The Choice Between Markets and Central Planning in Regulating the U.S. Electricity Industry, 93 Colum. L. Rev. 1339, 1341–42 (1993) (“We must choose between two revolutionary visions of the future of the electricity sector of the U.S. economy. The first vision . . . relies where possible on markets, private incentives, and decentralized decisions to produce optimal pricing and consumption of electric power and least-cost pollution control . . . . The second vision . . . distrusts consumer choice and relies on central planners, housed in regulated utilities, state utility commissions, and federal regulatory agencies, to correct perceived large-scale imperfections in the electricity market. This vision’s faith in central planning (‘integrated resource planning’ is the new phrase) bears an uncomfortable resemblance to the system previously used to govern the economies of eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union.”). Today, about two-thirds of U.S. electricity consumers receive their power through organized wholesale power markets run by Independent System Operators (“ISOs”) or Regional Transmission Organizations (“RTOs”), although some of these markets, such as the Midcontinent Independent System Operator (“MISO”) and the Southwest Power Pool (“SPP”), are still dominated by vertically integrated utilities that self-schedule the bulk of their generation resources through the markets.

4.  A Global Project?

Notwithstanding the failures of these early experiments in Chile, the UK, and California, electricity liberalization spread around the world during the 1990s and 2000s, from Australia and New Zealand to Scandinavia, South Africa, and Turkey.251For an overview, see generally Adib et al., supra note 25. In perhaps the biggest experiment of all, moreover, the EU succeeded after almost two decades of work in establishing a single electricity market for the region starting in the late 2010s.252See Michael G. Pollitt, The European Single Market in Electricity: An Economic Assessment, 55 Rev. Indus. Org. 63, 68–70 (2019).

Like other examples of “fast policy” that have become common features of neoliberal globalization, electricity market reform was pushed by a network of academics, experts, consultants, and corporate actors eager to move into new markets.253On fast policy, see generally Jamie Peck & Nik Theodore, Fast Policy: Experimental Statecraft at the Thresholds of Neoliberalism (2015). For a discussion in the context of climate policy (with a focus on emissions trading), see William Boyd, The Poverty of Theory: Public Problems, Instrument Choice, and the Climate Emergency, 46 Colum. J. Env’t L. 399, 399 (2021). Leading theorists proposed a standard set of “textbook” reforms that, if followed, would deliver competitive wholesale markets and unleash vast gains for energy consumers.254See Joskow, supra note 10, at 4–6. The World Bank, along with other development institutions, also pushed power sector reform, sometimes as a condition for loans, as part of a broader effort to get countries in the global south to open up their economies to outside investment.255But see Vivien Foster & Anshul Rana, Rethinking Power Sector Reform in the Developing World 57–70 (2020) (noting the challenges and unevenness of implementing power sector reforms around the world).

The overall success of this effort has been mixed at best. While performance and efficiency have improved in some cases, the savings appear to have been captured largely if not entirely by private companies rather than customers.256See MacKay & Mercadal, supra note 29, at 23–26 (finding that prices have increased for consumers in deregulated states compared to those in regulated states). Investment in new capacity has also failed to keep pace with demand, leading to limited reserve capacity in some markets. Poor customers have also been relegated to an inferior status, often stuck with higher cost, strict prepayment plans.257See, e.g., Njabulo Kambule, Kowiyou Yessoufou & Nnamdi Nwulu, A Review and Identification of Persistent and Emerging Prepaid Electricity Meter Trends, 43 Energy for Sustainable Dev. 173, 176 (2018) (discussing rising global use of prepayment meters over last fifteen years). And many (if not most) of these markets have struggled in the face of extreme price shocks, in part because of their reliance on the single-price auction design. All of which has led to a growing chorus of calls for an overhaul of the existing market arrangements, especially in the face of the increasing urgency of decarbonization. As noted, reform efforts are underway in the UK and the EU as well as in Australia, and at least one sitting FERC commissioner and various state regulators are actively pushing market reform in the United States.

D.  Inversions

The overarching goal of neoliberal electricity was to subordinate electricity to the magic of the price system. Rather than use prices as tools to drive particular types of investment across the system based on established objectives, the neoliberals believed that an unfettered price mechanism would deliver the system people actually wanted. It was, in essence, an inversion of the relationship between infrastructure and the price system that earlier state-owned and regulated systems had embraced, where rates were set at a level sufficient to recover long-term average costs in order to pay for ongoing investment.

The engineers that built these earlier systems understood that different generating technologies with different characteristics and cost structures allowed them to play different roles in the overall system, and that the system had to be planned accordingly. Prices or rates could be used as tools to drive particular investments and shape load in a manner that would deliver the right mix of assets.

The neoliberals, by contrast, did not seem to care as much about specific technologies or cost structures. In their view, the market would sort all of that out. Neoliberals in fact often took pride in being agnostic about technologies and fuel sources, embracing the mythical notion that market arrangements could somehow be designed to operate in a neutral manner.258The failed assumptions of the “technology neutral” position of neoliberal electricity were on full display in June 2022 when Australia was forced to suspend operation of its electricity markets. See, e.g., John Quiggan, The National Electricity Market is a Failed 1990s Experiment. It’s Time the Grid Returned to Public Hands, Conversation (June 21, 2022), https://theconversation.com/the-national-electricity-market-is-a-failed-1990s-experiment-its-time-the-grid-returned-to-public-hands-185418 [https://perma.cc/CA7H-ELWQ]; Emmet Penney, Guest Feature: What Killed Australia’s Electricity Market?, Grid Brief (June 24, 2022), https://www.gridbrief.com/p/guest-feature-killed-australias-electricity-market [https://perma.cc/GBK7-DHPZ] (“Power system planning engineers historically designed and built our legacy infrastructure [to reflect the fact that different technologies with different characteristics played different roles in the system] . . . . However, the competition economists who directed the transformation of Australia’s state-owned power system into a market did not seem to understand this. They took pride in being agnostic about the source of electrons. No attempt was made to design the market framework to allow the various technologies to play to their relative strengths or to combine them in ways that were complementary to a given location. The engineers were locked in the basement. The market framework that was implemented neither differentiated between which technologies nor ‘parts’ made up the generation system, nor did it comprehend that the performance of the power system would, in time, be significantly dependent on the interactions between these technologies. These defects of analysis and design have, over time, led to an accumulation of increased risks and amplified performance failures.”). The result was a system built around short-term spot markets that created incentives to sweat assets without any sense of how all the pieces fit together.

The new electricity markets also moved decisively away from any sort of redistributive goals. Previous commitments to the idea that electricity was a primary social good or a key system of provisioning in service to the public interest was anathema to the neoliberal vision. With marginal cost pricing, existing cross subsidies were more visible and became much easier to attack. Although never fully realized, the goal of sending real-time price signals to individual consumers endeavored to demolish the idea that electricity should be viewed as a collective undertaking. In the world of neoliberal electricity, everyone would have to pay their own way.

In the wake of multiple crises and market meltdowns, the proponents of neoliberal electricity have sometimes claimed that the real problem has always been the distortions introduced by politics and regulation, as if somehow the design of new markets could be kept pure as it worked its way through the political process.259See, e.g., Frank A. Wolak, Diagnosing the California Electricity Crisis, 16 Elec. J. 11, 11 (2003) (“[T]he California electricity crisis was fundamentally a regulatory crisis rather than an economic crisis.”). But, of course, there is no basis for ever concluding that market design can be fully insulated from politics and it is naïve and disingenuous—especially coming from those who accept and celebrate the basic insights of public choice theory—to expect that rent seeking behavior either does not apply or can somehow be controlled in the complex and all too often highly opaque world of market design.260See, e.g., Oliver E. Williamson, Why Law, Economics, and Organization?, 1 Ann. Rev. L. & Soc. Sci. 369, 384 (2005) (“[In the California electricity restructuring effort,] ‘good theories’ were naively expected to be implemented without making provision for the realities of the political and regulatory process. Failing to make ex ante provision for these realities, politics and regulation are conveniently made the ex post scapegoats for behaving in perverse or unanticipated ways that, in large measure, were foreseeable and should have been factored into the calculus.”).

II.  MARKET CRISES AND STRUGGLES OVER PRICE MAKING

The early 2020s have been brutal for electricity markets. Coming out of the pandemic, markets were already strained by supply chain problems, especially in natural gas. With the Russian invasion of Ukraine, those stresses became extreme as natural gas prices in Europe and the UK spiked to unimaginable levels, up more than 800% at the peak of the crisis.261See Jamison Cocklin, European Natural Gas Prices Hit Record, Creating Big Arbitrage Opportunity for U.S. LNG, Natural Gas Intelligence (Dec. 15, 2021), https://www.naturalgasintel.com/European-natural-gas-prices-hit-record-creating-big-arbitrage-opportunity-for-u-s-lng [https://perma.cc/PLL8-WWEB]. These extreme price shocks rippled around the world and led to a structural realignment of global gas markets, with U.S. suppliers reaping extraordinary profits.262See Int’l Energy Agency, Global Gas Security Review 2023 8 (2023) (noting the structural transformation of natural gas markets in the wake of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine).

Extreme prices for natural gas translated into very high prices for electricity, particularly in markets built around the single-price auction given that natural gas generation was on the margin setting the price. As consumers and government officials saw this play out in real time, they began asking why low-cost, non-gas generators should be receiving the same price as gas generators when their costs had not changed, triggering deep intuitions about just or fair pricing.263See generally Boyd, supra note 8 (discussing various social science literatures finding deep, cross-cultural commitments to notions of a just price). As European Commission President Ursula van der Leyen observed, it was clear to everyone that these markets were “no longer doing justice to consumers anymore.”264von der Leyen, supra note 22 (“The current electricity market design—based on merit order—is not doing justice to consumers anymore. They should reap the benefits of low-cost renewables. So, we have to decouple the dominant influence of gas on the price of electricity. This is why we will do a deep and comprehensive reform of the electricity market.”). In response, those governments with sufficient fiscal capacity took emergency measures to protect households from price shocks and launched a series of longer-term market reform efforts.265See supra notes 12–13 and accompanying text. In some cases, such as Australia, authorities were forced to suspend operation of the electricity market entirely.266In June 2022, Australia suspended operation of its electricity market as soaring prices forced the government to intervene. See Nathaniel Bullard, Why Australia’s Power Grid Debacle Matters for Global Energy, Bloomberg (June 23, 2022), https://www.bnnbloomberg.ca/why-australia-s-power-grid-debacle-matters-for-global-energy-1.1782786 [https://perma.cc/YM34-5S25]; see also Australian Competition & Consumer Comm’n, Inquiry into the National Electricity Market 1 (2022); Zhenfei Tan, Hua Geng, Xiaoyuan Xu, Sijie Chen & Zheng Yan, Suspension of Australian National Electricity Market in 2022 Necessitates Mechanism Evolution Ensuring Power Supply Security, 11 J. Mod. Power Sys. & Clean Energy 674, 674 (2023).

What is remarkable about these recent price shocks is that the specific ways of price making operating at the heart of these markets have been made visible to policymakers and publics seemingly for the first time. Instead of simply accepting prices as facts that emerge from markets, the recent crisis has revealed that prices are, as Robert Lee Hale and others emphasized many years ago, relationships, and that those relationships can sometimes be coercive.267See, e.g., Robert L. Hale, The Constitution and the Price System: Some Reflections on Nebbia v. New York, 34 Colum. L. Rev. 401, 401 (1934) (“[P]rices and price relationships are decisive factors in modern economic life.”); Robert L. Hale, Freedom Through Law: Public Control of Private Governing Power 131 (1952) (“[Market prices] result from and register the mutual pressures exerted by buyers and sellers. The amount of pressure which each can exert is very unevenly distributed, with the result that some are economically strong, others economically weak.”); John R. Commons, Institutional Economics: Its Place in Political Economy 260 (1934) (defining real value as the price obtained in the absence of coercion); Joan Robinson, Some Reflections on the Philosophy of Prices, 26 Manchester Sch. Econ. & Soc. Stud. 116, 135 (1958) (“Prices are a social phenomenon and the pricing system in any economy is geared to its social and political system.”). Viewed in this way, prices and the ways of price making that generate them are never simply facts or technical artefacts, but rather ongoing objects of struggle.268See, e.g., Max Weber, Economy and Society 201 (Keith Tribe ed. & trans., 2019) (“Money prices are the product of contest and compromise, and hence are outcomes of power constellations.”); see also id. at 183 (describing the price system as a “struggle of man against man” and prices as “expressions of the struggle”). On ways of price making as objects of struggle, see Boyd, supra note 21, at 743–44.

Understanding how these struggles are playing out and the stakes involved requires getting into the details of these markets and the main problems they have confronted since their inception. This Part focuses on four such problems: the pervasive nature of market power, security of supply, price rationing, and decarbonization. Versions of these problems have emerged in virtually all of the electricity markets and have sometimes become acute during moments of crisis. Governments have responded in various ways, all too often adopting piecemeal, ad hoc reforms that tend to operate more as palliative short-term measures rather than as long-term structural solutions. Absent a major overhaul of the basic structure of these markets, these problems will not be resolved. They are, in effect, embedded in the logic of neoliberal electricity and the distinctive ways of price making that allow these markets to function.

A.  Market Power

Market power has been a significant and persistent problem in virtually all restructured electricity markets.269See, e.g., José A. Garcia & James D. Reitzes, International Perspectives on Electricity Market Monitoring and Market Power Mitigation, 6 Rev. Network Econ. 397, 402 ( “[M]arket power concerns arising from market concentration and the inherent conditions affecting electric power markets . . . are a worldwide issue for electricity markets.”); Parviz Adib & David Hurlbut, Market Power and Market Monitoring, in Competitive Electricity Markets: Design, Implementation, Performance 267, 292 (Fereidoon P. Sioshansi ed., 2008) (“Market power is a fundamental problem that affects most electricity markets in transition from a regime of regulated monopolies to competition. Left unaddressed, restructuring will leave consumers at the mercy of unregulated monopolists.”); Richard O’Neill & Udi Helman, Regulatory Reform of the U.S. Wholesale Electricity Markets, in Creating Competitive Markets: The Politics of Regulatory Reform 128, 141 (Marc Karnis Landy et al. eds., 2007) (“There was not much question that in the transition from the era of monopoly regulation, the new electricity markets could be particularly prone to generation market power.”). The assumption that these markets would be contestable once barriers to entry had been removed proved to be overly optimistic and insufficiently attentive to the special challenges facing electricity markets, especially during periods of peak demand.270See Severin Borenstein, James Bushnell & Christopher R. Knittel, Market Power in Electricity Markets: Beyond Concentration Measures, 20 Energy J. 65, 66 (1999) (“One central insight from both theoretical and empirical models of restructured electricity markets is that a single market can at times exhibit very little market power and, at other times, suffer from the exercise of a great deal of market power. The change between these states occurs when demand rises to the point that very few producers have capacity available to compete for the marginal load. This separation is more pronounced in the electricity industry because of the relatively limited production capacities of small producers, the widespread potential for transmission congestion, and the fact that electricity is expensive to store.”); see also Richard Green, Market Power Mitigation in the UK Power Market, 14 Utils. Pol’y 76, 87 (2006) (“The structure created at privatization [in the UK] is widely acknowledged to have been a mistake. In the early years, the major generators had a lot of market power, and the regulator had a difficult task in preventing its abuse.”). This has resulted in substantial wealth transfers from consumers to producers.271See Wolak, supra note 259, at 14; MacKay & Mercadal, supra note 29, at 2–4.

The single-price auction exacerbates the problem of market power for the simple reason that it endows the market clearing price with special significance.272Some commentators have suggested that the argument that the single-price auction enhances market power is based on the mistaken assumption that the main alternative auction design (pay-as-bid pricing) would itself not be subject to gaming. See, e.g., Green, supra note 270, at 83 (“The most important charge against the Pool, however, was that its uniform price rule enhanced market power. The simplest version of this argument is based upon a fallacy—some stations bid zero, but get the market price, so if they were only paid their own bid, the average price would fall. The fallacy ignores that fact that the stations would promptly change their bidding strategy if the market rules were changed.”). But this does not follow and does not acknowledge the fact that, under the single-price auction, the inframarginal generators have a strong incentive to drive the clearing price higher. Moreover, even if there are few if any workable alternative auction designs, that is hardly a reason to dismiss the criticisms directed at the single-clearing price design. When generation capacity is constrained and scarcity pricing prevails, the prospect of windfall profits for inframarginal generators improves dramatically because of the single-price design. This is one reason why these clearing prices become objects of gaming and manipulation by traders and financial institutions.273See Boyd, supra note 21, at 798, 801–02; see also Gabriel Rauterberg & Andrew Verstein, Index Theory: The Law, Promise and Failure of Financial Indices, 30 Yale J. on Regul. 1, 31 (2013); Robert C. Hockett & Saule T. Omarova, Systemically Significant Prices, 2 J. Fin. Regul. 1, 11 (2016). It is also why wholesale generators have employed various strategies to drive clearing prices higher, such as withholding particular generating units during periods of scarcity.274See, e.g., Alexandra von Meier, Electric Power Systems: A Conceptual Introduction 295 (2006) (“The extreme inelasticity of demand and supply as the system nears its limits makes it vulnerable to the withholding of even small amounts of generation capacity.”). There are two main types of withholding: physical and economic. Physical withholding occurs when a generator takes a unit offline through, for example, an unplanned maintenance outage. Economic withholding occurs when a generator knowingly submits a bid at a price that is above the expected clearing price. For a discussion, see Garcia & Reitzes, supra note 269, at 402. This was, as noted, a particular problem during the early years of the UK Pool as well as during the California crisis, and it can be very difficult to police against.275See Frank A. Wolak & Robert H. Patrick, The Impact of Market Rules and Market Structure on the Price Determination Process in the England and Wales Electricity Market 7–8 (Nat’l Bureau of Econ. Rsch., Working Paper No. 8248, 1997) (finding that the two dominant generators (National Power and PowerGen) exercised market power by physically and economically withholding capacity from the market); Borenstein, supra note 26, at 200-01 (reviewing various studies concluding that sellers exercised significant market power in California’s electricity market); see also U.S. Gen. Acct. Off., Restructured Electricity Markets: California Market Design Enabled Exercise of Market Power 4 (2002) (“[W]holesale electricity suppliers exercised market power by raising prices above competitive levels during the summer of 2000 and at other times after restructuring . . . by withholding electricity from the market”); id. at 36–37 (summarizing multiple studies showing extensive withholding of generation from California electricity market during the 2000–01 crisis).

Regulators around the world have generally approached the problem of market power in electricity markets through various ex ante mitigation measures, ongoing monitoring and investigation, and ex post enforcement.276See Garcia & Reitzes, supra note 269, at 408–09 (discussing these approaches). Typically, the U.S. market operators have taken an ex ante approach, adopting various structure- and conduct-based approaches that seek to prevent the exercise of market power.277See Christoph Graf, Emilio La Pera, Federico Quaglia & Frank A. Wolak, Market Power Mitigation Mechanisms for Wholesale Electricity Markets: Status Quo and Challenges, 8–39 (Stanford Freeman Spogli Inst. for Int’l Studies, Working Paper, 2021) (surveying market power mitigation mechanisms in U.S. electricity markets); see also Udi Helman, Market Power Monitoring and Mitigation in the US Wholesale Power Markets, 31 Energy 877, 877 (2006). The UK, Australian, and EU markets, in contrast, have adopted a more ex post approach.278See Garcia & Reitzes supra note 269, at 408. The overall trend seems to be toward more elaborate approaches based on a growing recognition that the standard antitrust approach to market structure does not work for electricity markets given their distinctive characteristics.

The evolution of the U.S. approach to market power mitigation is instructive in this regard. In the early years of restructuring, FERC essentially imported the basic approach to market power that it had been using in experiments with so-called market-based rates for bilateral sales of electricity in the late 1980s and early 1990s.279See G. William Stafford, Electric Wholesale Power Sales at Market-Based Rates, 12 Energy L.J. 291, 291–94 (1991) (discussing FERC’s early use of market-based rate authority); Helman, supra note 277, at 888–93 (discussing evolution of FERC’s approach to market power). Drawing on antitrust conceptions of market structure, the Commission developed ex ante screens to determine whether a firm possessed market power.280Use of traditional concentration measures for determining market power in electricity has been criticized on various grounds given the distinctive nature of the electric grid and the possibility of more localized instances of market power that derive from network topographies. See, e.g., Borenstein et al., supra note 270, at 86 (1999) ( “[Concentration measures] suffer from a number of weaknesses, which are exacerbated when applied to restructured electricity markets.”); Carine Staropoli & Céline Jullien, Using Laboratory Experiments to Design Efficient Market Institutions: The Case of Wholesale Electricity Markets, 77 Annals Pub. & Coop. Econ. 555, 564 (2006) (“Particularly for electricity, market power cannot be assessed based on traditional concentration measures alone. Notably, there is another type of market power, the local market power, which depends essentially on the localization of the network and the temporary topography of the network.”). If the firm passed these screens, the Commission would grant it market-based rate authority—that is, the authority to go out into the market and sell power at market-based rates rather than on the basis of pre-approved tariffs.281See William H. Hieronymus, J. Stephen Henderson & Carolyn A. Berry, Market Power Analysis of the Electricity Generation Sector, 23 Energy L.J. 1, 36–41 (2002) (describing the history of FERC’s use of various market power screens for market-based rate authority). FERC’s most significant recent effort to refine its approach to market-based rate authority came in 2016. See generally Refinements to Policies and Procedures for Market-Based Rates for Wholesale Sales of Electric Energy, Capacity and Ancillary Services by Public Utilities, 81 Fed. Reg. 33375 (May 26, 2016) (codified as amended at 18 C.F.R. pt. 35). FERC further refined its horizontal market power analysis in 2019. See generally Refinements to Horizontal Market Power Analysis for Sellers in Certain Regional Transmission Organization and Independent System Operator Markets, 84 Fed. Reg. 36374 (July 26, 2019) (codified as amended at 18 C.F.R. pt. 35). Various appellate decisions held that FERC’s market-based rate program was consistent with the Federal Power Act, on the theory that competition would provide the discipline needed to ensure that rates (prices) would be just and reasonable.282To date, the Ninth Circuit and the D.C. Circuit have held that market-based rates satisfy the just and reasonable standard. See, e.g., California ex rel. Lockyer v. FERC, 383 F.3d 1006, 1013 (9th Cir. 2004) (“[I]n a competitive market, where neither buyer nor seller has significant market power, it is rational to assume that the terms of their voluntary exchange are reasonable, and specifically to infer that the price is close to marginal cost, such that the seller makes only a normal return on its investment.”) (quoting Tejas Power Corp. v. FERC, 908 F.2d 998, 1004 (D.C. Cir. 1990)). Notably, the Supreme Court has never addressed the question of whether market-based rates are consistent with the Federal Power Act.283See Morgan Stanley Capital Grp., Inc. v. Pub. Util. Dist. No. 1 of Snohomish County, 544 U.S. 527, 538 (2008) (“We have not hitherto approved, and express no opinion today, on the lawfulness of the market-based-tariff system, which is not one of the issues before us.”); see also David B. Spence & Robert Prentice, The Transformation of American Energy Markets and the Problem of Market Power, 53 B.C. L. Rev 131, 197–200 (surveying the doctrinal landscape regarding the question whether market based rates satisfy the just and reasonable standard).

While the system of market-based rates was designed for a world of bilateral contracts, it took on additional importance with the move to restructure wholesale markets in the late 1990s and early 2000s.284See Market-Based Rates for Wholesale Sales of Electric Energy, Capacity, and Ancillary Services by Public Utilities, 72 Fed. Reg. 39904 (July 20, 2007) (codified as amended at 18 C.F.R. pt. 35) (establishing system of market-based rates for wholesale sales of electricity). Merchant generators and electricity traders such as Enron were all required to secure market-based rate authority before they could participate in the new wholesale power auctions.285See Enron Power Marketing, Inc., Order Accepting Rate Schedule as Modified, and Granting and Denying Waivers, 65 FERC ¶ 61,305 (Dec. 2, 1993); Enron Energy Services Power, Inc., Order Conditionally Accepting for Filing Proposed Market-Based Rates, 81 FERC ¶ 61,267 (Nov. 26, 1997). In the wake of the California electricity crisis and evidence of Enron’s efforts to manipulate the market, FERC revoked Enron’s market-based rate authority in 2003. See Enron Energy Services, Inc., Order Revoking Market-Based Rate Authorities and Terminating Blanket Marketing Certificates, 103 FERC ¶ 61,343 (June 25, 2003). Needless to say, FERC’s general assumption that this would ensure that these markets would be competitive proved to be mistaken.286See Borenstein et. al., supra note 270, at 67 (“The market power analysis supporting the approval by FERC of market based rates for electrical energy in both California and the PJM pool . . . was dominated by concentration measures.”).

Over time, the RTO and ISO markets themselves have also adopted increasingly elaborate mechanisms to mitigate and remedy the exercise of market power. These include automatic “structural” approaches, where the offer prices of large generators deemed to have potential market power are automatically replaced with default reference prices, as well as behavioral approaches (sometimes called conduct and impact approaches), where the market monitor reviews and replaces offer prices found to be non-competitive with default reference prices.287See Garcia & Reitzes, supra note 269, at 409–10. The default reference prices used under these approaches are the market operators’ estimate of the price that the generator would offer if it faced effective competition. One would be forgiven for asking how much of a departure this is from traditional cost-of-service regulation. FERC also has substantial civil penalty authority that it can use to enforce against market manipulation and conduct that produces prices that are unjust and unreasonable.288Partly in response to the California electricity crisis of 2000–01, Congress gave FERC significantly enhanced civil penalty authority in the Energy Policy Act of 2005, which allows FERC to impose penalties of up to $1 million per day per violation for violations of the Natural Gas Act or the Federal Power Act. See Energy Policy Act of 2005, Pub. L. No. 109-58, 119 Stat. 594, 691, 980 (2005) (establishing enhanced civil penalty authority under the Natural Gas Act and the Federal Power Act).

In contrast to the U.S. approach, other markets around the world have taken a less proactive approach to market power and tend to rely more on ex post monitoring and enforcement as well as referrals to competition authorities.289See Garcia & Reitizes, supra note 269, at 409. In some cases, such as the UK in the late 1990s, this led to a new round of mandatory divestments by large generators as well as various market reform initiatives.290See Green, supra note 270, at 87–88 (discussing divestitures, possible reference to competition authorities, and more general market reform initiatives as responses to continued exercise of market power in UK electricity markets). In others, it led to prohibitions on certain acquisitions and ongoing investigations.291See Tomaso Duso, Jo Seldeslachts & Florian Szücs, The Impact of Competition Policy Enforcement on the Functioning of EU Energy Markets, 40 Energy J. 97, 97 (2019) (“[Since 2002, the European Commission has used] the full range of enforcement tools at its disposal, including merger control, antitrust legislation, and state aid control [to protect competition in gas and electricity markets.]”).

The bottom line here is that restructured electricity markets have never been sufficiently contestable to control the exercise of market power. Given the capital intensity of new generation combined with long lead times and general uncertainty regarding consistent dispatch in the markets (uncertainty that increases as the share of intermittent, non-dispatchable generation increases), there are significant barriers to entry and exit that undermine contestability. And because privatization and restructuring often failed to create a sufficiently competitive market structure at the outset, in part because of an overreliance on the theory of contestable markets, the problem of market power has turned out to be pervasive.292See, e.g., Borenstein, supra note 26, at 200 (“This focus on market share analysis ignores the reality that in a market with no demand elasticity and strict production constraints, a firm with even a small percentage of the market could exercise extreme market power when demand is high. On a hot summer afternoon, when the system operator needs 97 percent of all generators running to meet demand, a firm that owns 6 percent of capacity can exercise a great deal of market power.”). In electricity, as many observers have noted, extreme inelasticity of demand combined with the lack of storage and the need to balance the system in real time creates opportunities for individual firms with limited market share to set prices above marginal costs.

These problems with market power have been borne out repeatedly in the experience of electricity markets, particularly during periods of scarcity. Indeed, because scarcity pricing delivers very large rents to inframarginal generators, incumbent generators have a strong incentive to maintain the system as close to the edge as possible. When compounded by larger structural crises or extreme events, the basic mechanism of scarcity pricing in these markets can result in extremely high prices and very large windfalls for inframarginal generators. During the recent price shocks in Europe, for example, one scholar estimated that non-gas generators received some 400 billion EURs in windfall profits as a result of the very high clearing prices for natural gas generators.293See Natalia Fabra, Electricity Markets in Transition: A Proposal for Reforming European Electricity Markets 6 (Ctr. Econ. Pol’y Rsch., Discussion Paper DP17689, 2022). To mitigate this, EU member states considered several responses, including windfall taxes on generator profits, a new lower reference price for natural gas that would set the marginal electricity price, and permission to member states to introduce price caps for inframarginal generators.294Council Regulation 2022/1854, 2022 O.J. (L 261) 1. See generally European Commission, Policy Options to Mitigate the Impact of Natural Gas Prices on Electricity Bills, Non-Paper (2022).

But it would be a mistake to conclude that market power only exists during periods of scarcity and that short-term measures directed at limiting or clawing back some of the windfalls constitutes an adequate response . In fact, experience in the UK and recent studies investigating market power in the United States indicate that price markups have been far more pervasive across time, even as costs have declined, and that these price markups affect both short-term auctions and the long-term bilateral contracts that are increasingly common in all of these markets.295See, e.g., MacKay & Mercadal supra note 29, at 26–27. Moreover, it is also important to recognize that most of the generators and traders in most of the markets actually have very specific, detailed information on the cost structures all of the other generators in the market as well as a very good understanding of overall demand and system constraints.296See McDiarmid et al., supra note 116, at 12. Needless to say, this complicates the Hayekian premise that these markets are necessary to aggregate knowledge from a diffuse set of actors, much less that there is sufficient competition to allow prices to play their proper coordinating function.

B.  Security of Supply

Notwithstanding the pervasive fact of market power (and the additional profits that accrue to those with market power), all of these markets have also struggled to produce sufficient incentives for new investment. This might seem paradoxical if there are in fact substantial rents available in these markets for generators able to exercise market power. Part of this goes back to the challenges of entry (and exit) in these markets—the capital intensity of new generation, the long lead times, the volatility of spot market prices, and regulatory uncertainty—all of which have worked against contestability. Part of it also likely stems from specific mechanisms, such as price caps, that have been adopted by market operators to mitigate against market power and protect consumers. This has created what some economists have referred to as a “missing money” problem in the markets, which refers to the limits on inframarginal rents available during periods of scarcity that, if available to inframarginal generators, would in theory be sufficient to encourage new investment.297On the missing money problem, see generally David Newbery, Missing Money and Missing Markets: Reliability, Capacity Auctions, and Interconnectors, 94 Energy Pol. 401 (2016). Some economists view price caps as the primary cause of the missing money problem. Others have pointed to the inability of the markets to properly value and price the benefits of capacity and reliability. For a discussion, see Jan Horst Keppler, Simon Quemin & Marcelo Saguan, Why the Sustainable Provision of Law-Carbon Electricity Needs Hybrid Markets, 171 Energy Pol. 1, 2–3 (2022). Of course, as Severin Bornstein has pointed out, none of these markets would be viable as a political matter without price caps, irrespective of what theory instructs. See Borenstein, supra note 26, at 207 (“In reality, price caps are, and will continue to be, a critical element of virtually all wholesale electricity markets. The extreme inelasticity of both supply and demand means that supply shortages, whether real or due to market power, can potentially drive prices many thousands of times higher than their normal level. Such outcomes would destroy the market.”). In sum, the problem that the notion of “missing money” seeks to capture suggests deep structural tensions in these markets and the ongoing distributional struggle over the ways of price making that operate in these markets. Indeed, the term itself is yet another telling example of how the language of economic theory tends to naturalize and depoliticize these distributional struggles. More generally, the entire purpose of privatization and restructuring was to correct for the overbuilding that was supposedly endemic under state-owned and regulated cost-of-service systems. In fact, the new electricity markets have never been oriented toward promoting investment, but rather were focused from the start on “sweating” existing assets.298See, e.g., Helm supra note 153, at 423 (“It was a lucky coincidence that the market approach of the 1980s and 1990s was applied in the context of mature and well-invested electricity and gas networks. The assets could be sweated without worrying too much about the cost of capital or supply security. That luxury is no longer available, and hence the regulatory priority, and the appropriate instruments, need to shift towards investment.”). The whole point of shifting the risk of investment from ratepayers to investors was to mitigate against overinvestment and waste and improve performance of existing assets, something that the markets have clearly delivered upon.299Cf. David M. Newbery, Power Markets and Market Power, 16 Energy J. 39, 42 (1995) (“The effects of privatization on performance have been impressive in terms of labor productivity, profitability, and share prices . . . . The question to be addressed here is whether these gains were at the expense of consumers through the exercise of market power by the privatized generators or through increased productive efficiency.”).

The irony (and the tragedy) here is that underinvestment is actually a much more serious problem than overinvestment when it comes to systems of provisioning for necessities. When electricity grids do not have sufficient reserve capacity to meet peak demand, significant disruptions can result. These problems can become acute during extreme events, with very serious consequences. During Winter Storm Uri in Texas, when temperatures in South Texas were lower than they were in Alaska in February, close to half of the state’s generation capacity was offline because of a lack of investment in winterization and insufficient reserve capacity.300See generally Fed. Energy Regul. Comm’n, The February 2021 Cold Weather Outages in Texas and the South Central United States (2021) (providing detailed discussion of the outages during Winter Storm Uri). This was true across all sources of generation, and the system came very close to total collapse as a result.301Id. at 10–15. More than two hundred people died during that crisis.302Patrick Svitek, Texas Puts Final Estimate of Winter Storm Death Toll at 246, Tex. Tribune (Jan. 2, 2022), https://www.texastribune.org/2022/01/02/texas-winter-storm-final-death-toll-246 [https://perma.cc/NUG3-WJZU].

To be sure, market regulators have long recognized the problem of underinvestment and have gone to great lengths to encourage new investment.303The failure of deregulated electricity markets to provide adequate revenues for investment in generation capacity in Europe is well documented. See, e.g., Dominique Finon & Virginie Pignon, Electricity and Long-Term Capacity Adequacy: The Quest for Regulatory Mechanism Compatible with Electricity Market, 16 Utils. Pol’y 143, 143 (2008); Jan Horst Keppler, Rationales for Capacity Remuneration Mechanisms: Security of Supply Externalities and Asymmetric Investment Incentives, 105 Energy Pol’y 562, 562 (2017); Natalia Fabra, A Primer on Capacity Mechanisms, 1 (Univ. of Cambridge Energy Pol’y Rsch. Grp. Working Paper No. 1806, 2018). For the United States, see Peter Cramton, Axel Ockenfels & Steven Stoft, Capacity Market Fundamentals, 2 Econ. Energy & Env’t Pol’y 27, 27 (2013). See also Paul L. Joskow, Capacity Payments in Imperfect Electricity Markets: Need and Design, 16 Utils. Pol’y 159, 159 (2008). The so-called missing money problem has been a near constant refrain among market boosters.304See, e.g., William W. Hogan, Electricity Market Design and Zero Marginal Cost Generation, 9 Curr. Sustainable/Renewable Energy Rpts. 15, 23 (2022). This has led to all manner of contrivances such as capacity markets, capacity payments, reliability must-run contracts, and outright mandates and subsidies for new generation. While some of these efforts have succeeded in driving new investment, it would be hard to describe the current mix of policies and programs to promote investment in new capacity as rational or well designed. Much of it in fact looks like bad cost-of-service regulation that has created ample opportunities for new rent seeking behavior.305See Boyd, supra note 21, at 809–12 (discussing problems with rent seeking and capacity market design in various RTO/ISO markets in the U.S.). Recent legislation introduced in Texas would provide guaranteed returns of 10% funded by taxpayers for 10 GW of new natural gas plants that would provide back-up reserve power in the event of future crises. The total cost is estimated at some $18 billion. See Emily Foxhall, Bills Aimed at Adding More Natural Gas Power to Texas Grid Clear Senate, Tex. Tribune (Apr. 5, 2023), https://www.texastribune.org/2023/04/05/texas-senate-grid-natural-gas-energy-legislature [https://perma.cc/V927-DKDM].

The larger lesson here is that an overbuilt system is actually much better for consumers than a system that is slightly underbuilt or even one that is operating right on the edge of full capacity. When it comes to vital infrastructure, asset sweating is generally not a good strategy. And even if there was a time when asset sweating made sense for the electricity sector, this is decidedly not the case today as the sector enters a new phase of substantial investment.

C.  Price Rationing

The neoliberal vision of competitive electricity markets depended ultimately upon the ability to transmit real-time prices in the wholesale markets all the way through to consumers in the retail markets. If consumers could see and respond to the actual wholesale cost of electricity as it fluctuated in real time, they would be able to adjust their demand accordingly and the system would be optimized. This form of price rationing provided a way to manage load, as Boiteux and others recognized in the 1950s, and was the only way to fully realize the allocative efficiency that comes with marginal cost pricing.306Boiteux, supra note 79, at 83–84.

The problem is that most retail customers in most markets do not want to take service on these terms. When given the choice, most residential customers in most markets seem to prefer stable, flat rates as evidenced by the general lack of switching in retail markets that allow it.307See Mathew J. Morey & Laurence D. Kirsch, Elec. Mkts Res. Found., Retail Choice in Electricity: What Have We Learned in 20 Years? v (2016) (noting that less than one tenth of eligible residential customers in U.S. markets have switched providers); see also id. at 62 (“In summary, there is evidence that retail choice decisions require business savvy that many consumers lack, and that less educated or low-income consumers are more likely than other consumers to make poor retail supplier choices.”). For a review of U.S. and international experiences with retail choice in electricity, see generally Littlechild supra note 214. This is especially true for the elderly and others who spend a lot of time at home and have limited options for shifting their demand over time.308See Lee V. White & Nicole D. Sintov, Health and Financial Impacts of Demand-Side Response Measures Differ Across Sociodemographic Groups, 5 Nat. Energy 50, 50 (2020) (noting that time-varying rates and other forms of responsive pricing can have detrimental effects on the poor and elderly). To be sure, an increasing (but still quite small) number of residential retail customers in the U.S. and elsewhere have started to take service under a system of time-varying rates—an option that is much easier with new advanced metering infrastructure.309See, e.g., Shan Zhou, The Effect of Smart Meter Penetration on Dynamic Electricity Pricing: Evidence from the United States, 34 Electr. J. 1, 6 (2021) (“[The growing penetration of smart meters in the United States] is positively and significantly associated with the share of customers participating in dynamic pricing.”). And commercial and industrial customers have long opted for time-varying rates because of their sensitivity to costs and ability to shift load.310See Nasim Nezamoddini & Yong Wang, Real-Time Electricity Pricing for Industrial Customers: Survey and Case Studies in the United States, 195 Applied Energy 1023, 1023 (2017). In some states such as California and Massachusetts, moreover, certain classes of residential customers are being defaulted into time-varying rates.311See Boyd & Carlson, supra note 36, at 873.

There are a range of options here—from simple time-of-use block rates to various forms of peak pricing to fully-dynamic real-time pricing, and there is a large and growing literature evaluating the relative advantages of each.312Id. at 869–77 (discussing the different forms of time-varying rates). See generally Jacob Mays & Diego Klabjan, Optimization of Time-Varying Electricity Rates, 38 Energy J. 67 (2017) (discussing debates on different types of time-varying rates). The catch is that the more closely retail prices track wholesale prices, the more volatile and unpredictable customers’ bills become. This is, of course, also the basis for the opportunities that such pricing programs entail—allowing customers to adjust their demand in response to price signals over the course of a day, month, or season. But the assumptions about consumer behavior that underwrite much of the thinking about these policies seem to be rather crude and unrealistic. How many people actually want to be energy day traders for a few dollars a day (at most)?

More importantly, dynamic retail pricing can also turn out to be a disaster when wholesale prices reach extreme levels. To take a rather dramatic recent example, in Texas during Winter Storm Uri, many of the customers who ended up with extremely high bills used a retail provider called Griddy to procure their power. For a monthly fee of $9.99, Griddy provided its customers with retail electricity at a price that mirrored the wholesale cost of electricity established by the auctions in the Texas electricity market.313William Boyd, Getting Down to the Nitty Griddy, LegalPlanet (Feb. 24, 2021), https://legal-planet.org/2021/02/24/getting-down-to-the-nitty-griddy [https://perma.cc/4QPQ-ZJJR]. As one of the purest forms of dynamic marginal cost pricing of electricity that one could find, Griddy sought to put into practice what Alfred Kahn and other proponents of marginal cost pricing had long sought—a system where supply and demand could mutually adjust based on real-time price signals.

In February 2021, however, the Texas grid was pushed to the breaking point and wholesale prices were allowed to rise to the market operator’s $9,000/MWh price cap for several days.314 See Luminant Energy Co. v. Pub. Util. Comm’n of Texas, 665 S.W.3d 166 (Tex. App. 2023) (discussing scarcity pricing mechanism in ERCOT market and two Texas PUC orders during Uri directing ERCOT to set market clearing price at $9,000 per MWh); see also Stephen Littlechild & Lynne Kiesling, Hayek and the Texas Blackout, 34 Electr. J. 1, 6 (2021) (describing decision by the Texas PUC to direct ERCOT to set wholesale prices at the $9,000 per MWh cap given the dramatic scarcity of supply, much of which was offline because of a lack of weatherization). The price cap stayed in effect for four days. Id. at 7. Given the arctic conditions across the state, of course, most customers had little choice but to keep using their electricity as long as it was available. This left thousands of customers facing astronomical bills and financial distress (one Griddy customer reported a bill of $16,752).315See Giulia McDonnell Nieto del Rio, Nicholas Bogel-Burroughs & Ivan Penn, His Lights Stayed on During Texas’ Storm. Now He Owes $16,752, N.Y. Times (Feb. 20, 2021), https://www.nytimes.com/2021/02/20/us/texas-storm-electric-bills.html [https://perma.cc/T4FR-FGKT]. Griddy, of course, went out of business (after urging its customers to switch suppliers) and the government had to come to the rescue.316See Littlechild & Kiesling, supra note 314, at 5 (describing Griddy’s “Hayekian” approach to residential electricity pricing and its demise during Winter Storm Uri). The Texas Public Utility Commission issued orders blocking retail providers from sending bills or disconnecting customers, while the Texas Legislature promptly banned the use of dynamic real-time pricing plans like the one offered by Griddy.317See Order Directing Certain Actions and Granting Exceptions to Certain Rules, Proj. No. 5182, Pub. Util. Comm’n of Tex. (Feb. 21, 2021) (prohibiting disconnections and requiring deferred payment plans for customers); An Act Relating to the Regulation of Certain Retail Electric Products, H.B. 16, 87th Sess. (Tex. 2021) (prohibiting electricity providers from offering “wholesale indexed products” to residential and small commercial customers and defining a “wholesale indexed product” as a “retail electric product in which the price a customer pays for electricity includes a direct pass-through of real-time settlement point prices” from the wholesale ERCOT market). Some Texas politicians even called for federal relief for Texan’s utility bills.318See Martin Pengelly, Republicans Eye Federal Funds to Help Pay Texans’ Exorbitant Energy Bills, Guardian (Feb. 21, 2021, 3:10 PM), https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2021/feb/21/texas-republicans-federal-funds-energy-bills [https://perma.cc/8LAR-M3DN].

Various commentators have also argued that real time pricing would have helped avert the California electricity crisis in 2000–01, given that the retail rate freeze instituted as part of the restructuring legislation undermined any possibility of demand response and forced utilities to buy high and sell low.319See, e.g., Weare, supra note 240 at 26–27. There is surely some truth to this, but it is difficult to gauge how much of a difference it would have made. In fact, widespread use of responsive pricing during the California crisis would likely have transferred the costs of market power and market manipulation to rate payers in the short term rather than over the longer term. And it would surely have hurt those most dependent on electricity, such as the elderly and the infirm.

The key lesson here is that an overreliance on responsive pricing for necessities can quickly become coercive during periods of great need, raising important political and ethical questions about the overall governance of key systems of provisioning. Even the proponents of responsive pricing have recognized this. As William Vickrey put it more than fifty years ago, “the main difficulty with responsive pricing is likely to be not mechanical or economic, but political. The medieval notion of the just price as an ethical norm, with its implication that the price of a commodity or service that is nominally in some sense the same and should not vary according to the circumstances of the moment, has a strong appeal even today.”320Vickrey, supra note 81, at 346; see also Boyd, supra note 8, at 721 (discussing history of the concept of just price and its influence on public utility law). Indeed it does.

But perhaps the most extreme manifestation of price rationing in electricity is the widespread use of prepayment meters that have been such a prominent part of retail electricity in the UK and other markets around the world over the last decade.321See Steve Thomas, Allowing British Electricity Consumers to Choose Their Supplier, IEEE Power & Energy Mag., July/Aug. 2023, at 18, 21 (“The widespread use of prepayment meters is a particular feature of the British reforms. In 2016, about 16% of consumers used them. Their use dates to 1993, when policy became that consumers struggling to pay their energy bills had little choice but to switch to prepayment meters. In some cases, retail suppliers break into consumers’ premises to replace the standard meter with a prepayment meter . . . . From an industry point of view, prepayment meters were an ideal solution to the issue of consumer debt. With a prepayment meter, consumers that could not afford to buy energy cut themselves off, so there was no possibility of further debt.”). Retail providers, not surprisingly, strongly favor the use of prepayment meters precisely because they put responsibility on individual households and provide a means to extract additional fees from the poor.322 Id. Indeed, various government reports have found that customers on prepayment meters typically pay higher prices than those on standard tariffs and have fewer options to switch among providers.323See, e.g., UK Competition & Mkts. Auth., supra note 215, at 546 (noting that customers on prepayment meters often paid higher prices). The widespread use of prepayment meters in the midst of the recent energy crisis, as noted, became one of the major points of contention for grassroots campaigns such as Don’t Pay UK.324See supra text accompanying note 7 (describing Don’t Pay UK demand to end use of prepayment meters).

What seems to be increasingly clear from these developments is that many customers do not view electricity as a commodity. Rather, they (we) tend to view it as part of the basic infrastructure of everyday life and many of us prefer a stable, predictable monthly bill. This is especially true for older customers, low-income customers, and others who are confined to their homes because of illness or, say, a pandemic. So, while it may be true that more price-mediated demand response can make the power grid more responsive and help to balance supply and demand, we need to think long and hard about safeguards and protections during extreme events for certain classes of customers and should proceed carefully as we start defaulting customers into systems of variable rates as California, Massachusetts, and other states are doing.325See Boyd & Carlson, supra note 36, at 873. Prices for electricity, like the prices for other essential services, are more than just signals, and the ways in which we decide to make prices for these essential services (that is, the ways in which we design and use regulation and markets to generate prices) have serious implications for people and their ability to get on with their lives.

As we enter the age of electricity, moreover, price rationing makes even less sense than in the past. Going forward, we actually want people to use more electricity, not less; that is, we want them to replace their gas-fired cooking and heating and their internal combustion vehicles with electricity. That means we need to find ways to make electricity cheaper and more stable over time so that we can accelerate the process of decarbonization through electrification. Although well-designed time-varying rates clearly have an important role to play in shifting load and balancing the system as we ramp up electrification, it seems unlikely that most customers will be able to constantly adjust their demand in response to constantly changing price signals. Any viable decarbonization strategy will need to include rate designs that spread costs over time and across customers while ensuring access to affordable electricity for everyone.

D.  Decarbonization

There has long been an implicit assumption in much of the energy policy literature that because wind and solar are now the cheapest sources of electricity generation, investment will inevitably flow to these technologies relative to others. Subsidies and supports have been and will continue to be important, the argument goes, but now that renewables have won the war on costs, markets are the best way to translate these cost advantages into deployment at scale. The rapid growth of renewables in general and solar energy in particular are often taken as evidence of this.

As Brett Christophers reminds us, however, this assumption rests on a basic misconception about how capitalism works.326See Christophers, supra note 27 at xii-xiii (arguing that one should focus on profit rather than relative prices when analyzing the prospects for investment in clean energy). Simply put, capital flows not to the lowest cost option but to the one with the highest expected profits.327Id. This is part of the reason why large fossil fuel companies continue to invest heavily in fossil fuels rather than renewables. They simply cannot make the same profits in renewables that they make with fossil hydrocarbons.328See id. at xxv. See generally Brett Christophers, Fossilised Capital: Price and Profit in the Energy Transition, 27 New Pol. Econ. 146 (2022). Thus, to assume that renewables will beat gas and coal just because they are cheaper is to ignore the all-important question of whether they are actually more profitable. Without question, cost and profit are sometimes aligned, but that is always an artefact of the system of price making that has been devised rather than some sort of natural fact about markets.

The assumption that low-cost renewables will beat fossil fuels simply because they are cheaper also ignores the distinctive cost structures and capital requirements of the new renewable energy technologies. Because renewables are essentially all capital costs and no variable costs, the cost of financing is all important.329See Keppler et. al., supra note 297, at 6 (noting that capital costs dominate the investment challenge for renewables and concluding that the inability of markets to ensure cost recovery causes financing costs to rise considerably). It is in the capital markets, therefore, that much of the future cost of renewable energy will be determined.330See, e.g., Malcolm Keay, John Rhys & David Robinson, Electricity Market Reform in Britain: Central Planning Versus Free Markets, in Evolution of Global Electricity Markets: New Paradigms, New Challenges, New Approaches 31, 34–35 (Fereidoon P. Sioshani ed., 2013) (discussing distinctive financing and investment challenges for renewables and the inadequacy of current market structures); Joskow, supra note 27, at 325 (discussing preference for long-term contracts for renewables as a means to lower the cost of capital for renewable energy projects).

The need for large upfront financing and stable revenues is also why, in virtually all electricity markets, renewable energy is almost always compensated through long-term contracts at fixed prices that make these projects largely indifferent to the prices that emerge from the spot markets.331See Roques & Finon supra note 27, at 590 (“The experience with policies that aim to support RES-E [Renewable Energy Sources for Electricity] in liberalized markets shows an evolution across countries in favour of mechanisms based on long-term arrangements to guarantee revenues.”); Graham Weale, Can an Energy-Only Market Fully Remunerate Investment? Empirical Evidence Since 2005, 177 Energy Pol’y 1, 3 (2023) (finding that wholesale power prices in France and Germany from 2005 to 2019 were not sufficient to cover full costs). Simply put, the inframarginal rents available in the electricity markets have not provided sufficiently reliable revenues to compensate new investment, leading governments to intervene in various ways. In the UK, as noted, since 2013 the government itself has stepped in to act as the counterparty on long-term renewables contracts precisely in order to promote investment and lower the cost of capital.332See supra Section I.C.2. In the EU, member states are also moving toward a system of contracts-for-differences, building on their longstanding use of feed-in-tariffs and other mechanisms to de-risk investment in renewables.333Joskow, supra note 27, at 325; Roques & Finon, supra note 27, at 584. Other countries, including Brazil, Chile, Colombia, and Argentina have adopted similar approaches.334Joskow, supra note 27, at 324 (“At least 50 countries have relied to some extent on long-term PPAs mediated through competitive procurement programs to acquire some or all of the wind, solar, nuclear, green natural gas, storage, etc. that they forecast they need to meet their decarbonization goals.”). And, in the United States, aggressive state Renewable Portfolio Standards, which were adopted initially to protect and promote renewables during the transition to restructured electricity markets, often mandate the use of long-term power purchase agreements, and virtually all renewable energy projects are financed on the basis of such long-term contracts.335 See Roques & Finon supra note 27, at 590 (discussing use of long-term PPAs for renewables projects driven by Renewable Portfolio Standards in the US). In important respects, this can be seen as a move back to a form of vertical integration—another sign that short-term spot markets cannot provide the compensation these resources require.336See, e.g., Joskow, supra note 27, at 316 (“I expect to see this [clean electricity] transition lead to more government intervention in long-term planning of investments (‘integrated resource planning’ or IRP) in wind, solar, storage, and other carbon-free technologies, more reliance on long-term contracts (‘purchased power agreements’ or PPAs), more government-mandated competitive procurements of generation by long-term PPAs and, as a result, a partial return to government planning and vertical integration by contract rather than ownership.”); Boyd, supra note 36, at 1683–96 (discussing need for planning and investment outside of current electricity markets to facilitate decarbonization).

Finally, the inability of organized the electricity markets to promote renewables becomes even more acute as the overall share of renewables increases. This is because in a single-price auction built around short-run marginal costs, large-scale presence of renewables will compress and ultimately destroy the clearing price.337See Joskow, supra note 27, at 315 (observing that wind and solar are not suitable for “traditional short-run auction-based ‘economic dispatch’ protocols and associated market mechanisms”). While this may be viewed as a positive development for those who want to accelerate the retirement of coal, gas, and even nuclear, it also makes it impossible for renewables (or storage for that matter) to receive sufficient compensation through these markets, which then simply reinforces the preference for other forms of long-term remuneration and support.338Id. at 319.

III.  DECOMMODIFYING ELECTRICITY

In 2022, for the first time, global investment in clean energy exceeded $1 trillion and matched, also for the first time, global investment in fossil hydrocarbons.339Bloomberg New Energy Fin., Energy Transition Investment Trends 2023: Tracking Global Investment in the Low-Carbon Energy Transition 8–11 (2023). Notwithstanding the headwinds of supply chain disruptions, higher interest rates, and geopolitical uncertainty, clean energy investment looks likely to continue growing and will soon be the main driver of global energy investment.340Id. While there is much to celebrate in these developments, the problem is that current investment levels are still only a fraction of what the world needs to hit its climate targets. In fact, the world needs to be investing at least $4 trillion dollars every year starting now to have a reasonable chance of hitting those targets.341Id. at 12; see generally Int’l Energy Agency, World Energy Investment Report 2022 (2022). And, needless to say, every dollar invested in new fossil fuel assets creates that much more inertia in a global energy system that is still dominated by fossil fuels.

The continuing shortfall in current levels of investment are often taken as evidence that we need additional interventions by governments to de-risk and turbocharge private sector investment. This was, in part, the thinking behind the Inflation Reduction Act (“IRA”), and it has become an article of faith for many policymakers around the world. The politics of these sorts of subsidies are, of course, much easier than interventions focused on imposing additional costs on emissions, whether through pricing mechanisms or direct regulation. As the EU and the UK ramp up their own subsidies for the green transition, moreover, the existing “rules-based” trading system is being challenged by a newfound faith in industrial policy. But while economists and others might bemoan the inefficiencies of a “subsidy race” among larger emitters, it is not at all clear that a system built around sticks rather than carrots could ever be sufficient to build whole new industries (much less survive politically).

If we focus specifically on the power sector, which, as noted, is the backbone of broader decarbonization efforts, there are two main challenges going forward: (1) how to substantially increase capital investment in clean energy assets and (2) how to ensure access, affordability, and security of supply. The first is an investment challenge and the second is a provisioning challenge. And these two challenges have to be addressed together. Put another way, if we solve the investment problem without also simultaneously solving the access and affordability problem, efforts to accelerate the electrification of everyday life will stall in the face of high prices. This will in turn undermine overall democratic support for the effort, which will then undercut the support for more investment.

As this Article has sought to demonstrate, electricity markets as currently designed cannot deliver on these goals. While the forty-plus year experiment with liberalized electricity markets may have been good at sweating assets, these markets are not capable of driving new investment in the sector at the scale and pace necessary to achieve decarbonization targets while also ensuring access and affordability. In important respects, and as documented above, the move away from markets is already underway. But the process has been largely ad hoc and piecemeal and too many continue to cling to the idea that existing market designs can be tweaked and adjusted to deal with the challenges they face.342See, e.g., William W. Hogan, Electricity Market Design and Zero-Marginal Cost Generation, 9 Current Sustainable/Renewable Energy Reps. 15, 15 (2022) (arguing that the expansion of zero-marginal cost generation does not change the fundamentals of efficient electricity market design). But see Joskow, supra note 27, at 315 (concluding that current markets are not suitable for zero-marginal cost resources). While short-term balancing markets will continue to play an important role in electricity, it is past time to acknowledge the larger shortcomings of neoliberal electricity and embrace new institutional arrangements capable of driving massive new investment while expanding access and affordability.

There are three main components of this. First, instead of focusing on using competition between generators to discipline prices and maximize efficiency, we should focus on tools to secure a low cost of capital for the trillions of dollars of financing for zero emissions electricity generation, storage, and transmission infrastructure that is needed. This requires a fundamental shift in the relationship between capital and infrastructure that has marked the last forty years of neoliberal electricity. That means de-emphasizing competition and the price system to focus more on the best ways to channel large flows of low-cost capital into long-lived physical assets. Second, we need to explicitly embrace new forms of “social ratemaking” that depart from the principles of market pricing to support stable and affordable rates going forward.343Cf. Alexandra B. Klass & Gabriel Chan, Regulating for Energy Justice, 97 N.Y.U. L. Rev. 1426, 1462 (2022) (noting that all ratemaking is “social ratemaking” and discussing various efforts to use ratemaking to ensure access and affordability). That will inevitably require new approaches to spreading different components of costs among and between different classes of customers, a task that is made more challenging by the ongoing adoption of distributed generation, distributed storage, and electric vehicles. Third, we need to rethink our approach to balancing—both on the bulk power supply side and on the demand side in favor of a more cooperative approach that recognizes the fact of intermittency and prioritizes arrangements to share reserve capacity and load management responsibilities as we transition to a renewables-dominated future.

A.  Capital and Infrastructure

The old idea of public utility in the United States was built in part around efforts to devise a framework that could channel large amounts of capital into new infrastructure based on specific mechanisms of cost recovery. The objective was to make sure that the investments were prudent when made and that the investors would receive a fair return on their capital—a moving target that was tied to the more general conditions in the capital markets.344See Fed. Power Comm’n v. Hope Nat. Gas Co., 320 U.S. 591, 602 (1944); Bluefield Water Works v. Pub. Serv. Comm’n, 262 U.S. 679, 681 (1923); Missouri ex rel. Southwestern Bell Tel. Co. v. Pub. Serv. Comm’n, 262 U.S. 276, 289–92 (1923) (Brandeis, J., concurring). Historians have documented that one of the reasons IOUs favored rate regulation through state PUCs was in order to secure a lower cost of capital, which the evidence suggests was at least partly realized.345See William J. Hausman & John L. Neufield, The Market for Capital and the Origins of Electric Utilities in the United States, 62 J. Econ. Hist. 1050, 1058 (2002).

During the first three quarters of the twentieth century, this system succeeded in driving substantial capital investment in new infrastructure.346See generally Thomas Hughes, Networks of Power: Electrification in Western Society (1983). As utilities built larger and larger plants together with extensive transmission and distribution systems, economies of scale translated into declining real prices for ratepayers. The concern, as noted, was overbuilding and overinvestment in the physical assets that constituted a utility’s rate base—a problem that was compounded by the threat of regulatory capture.347See Harvey Averch & Leland L. Johnson, Behavior of the Firm Under Regulatory Constraint, 52 Am. Econ. Rev. 1052, 1068 (1962) (concluding that firms operating under rate-of-return constraint of price control have an incentive to substitute capital for other factors of production in an uneconomic fashion that is difficult for the regulatory agency to detect). Their thesis has since been memorialized as the Averch-Johnson effect. The actual empirical evidence for the Averch-Johnson effect is mixed, but despite that it has become accepted as gospel by the critics of rate regulation. In any event, it is not clear what this looks like in a world of zero-marginal cost resources where there are no other factors of production other than capital. By the 1970s, with economies of scale in thermal power generation exhausted and in the face of major increases in fuel prices and slowing demand, utilities and their regulators were suddenly confronted with a very different macroeconomic environment that entailed a significantly higher cost of capital.348See Boyd, supra note 36, at 1658–59 (discussing crisis of the 1970s and factors affecting electric utilities). This was the beginning of the end of the so-called “public utility consensus,” and the emergence of a new emphasis on deregulation and markets that would go into high gear during the 1980s and 1990s.349See Hirsch, supra note 224, at 205.

A big part of the move to markets, in fact, was premised on the idea that investment would be disciplined by the forces of competition and the price system rather than the judgments of regulators. Gold plating would be replaced by a focus on performance and efficiency. Assets would be squeezed and sweated, made to work harder, while the risk of new investment would be transferred from ratepayers to investors.

Today, however, the electricity sector is transitioning once again to a phase of high investment. Moreover, the dominant generating technologies and underlying cost structures that mark the current phase put even more of a premium on cost of capital than in the past. As the clean energy transition accelerates, the focus will once again need to be on institutional arrangements that can secure a low cost of capital for long-lived assets.350Cf. Hung-Po Chao, Shmuel Oren & Robert Wilson, Reevaluation of Vertical Integration and Unbundling in Restructured Electricity Markets, in Competitive Electricity Markets: Design, Implementation, Performance 27, 61 (Fereidoon P. Sioshansi ed., 2008) (“Cost-of-service regulation is inherently a kind of insurance for utilities, since it guarantees to a utility that its costs accepted as prudent and accepted into its rate base are eventually recovered in full from retail rates on an amortized basis that includes the cost of capital. Insuring utilities’ cost recovery was very effective in reducing the cost of capital, since their bonds and shares carried negligible risks of default and provided steady payments of interest and dividends.”); see also Grubb & Newbery, supra note 205, at 10 (finding that the UK’s contracts-for-differences approach to renewables, which looks a lot like cost-of-service, succeeded in significantly reducing the cost of capital for renewables projects). Spreading those financing costs over a longer time frame and a larger customer base will in turn provide a critical part of the effort to ensure stable and affordable electricity for customers.

This requires patient capital willing to support high upfront investments in exchange for long-term, stable returns. Doing that, as noted above, means shifting our attention from the remuneration possible in the electricity markets to the capital markets and to the role of government in promoting capital investment in long-lived assets. In the United States, at least, there are three main options for doing this: (1) the use of tax credits and other subsidies to de-risk private investment in new assets; (2) public investment and public ownership of new assets; and (3) public utility regulation.

The big looming question in all of this is whether the new renewable energy and storage assets that will dominate our electricity systems in the future will be owned and managed by private owners intent on charging what the traffic will bear or whether they will be part of a broader collective project that includes diverse forms of public utility—from outright public ownership to various cooperative and community arrangements to a renewed effort to leverage public utility cost-of-service regulation to harness the power of private enterprise and direct it toward public ends.351Cf. Boyd, supra note 36, at 1619 (observing that the IOU model does not exhaust the category of public utility); see also Shelley Welton, Public Energy, 92 N.Y.U. L. Rev. 267, 267 (2017) (arguing for broader reconsideration of more public forms of energy control and ownership). For the last thirty years, the U.S. has made a very deliberate choice to pursue a privatized and financialized approach to renewable energy, with generous tax credits driving project finance structures that were dominated by banks and financial institutions. The IRA continues this trend, but it also begins to move away from the heavily financialized arrangements of the past through the direct pay and transferability provisions. While it is too early to tell how popular and effective these provisions will be, they do point up the importance of creating a system with a diversity of ownership structures for renewable power that maintain strong public and regulated components. Given the long lead times and financing challenges associated with renewables, especially under current market structures, there is a danger (and a growing body of supporting evidence) that large private equity firms, asset managers, and large clean energy multinationals are increasingly in a position to own the lion’s share of renewable energy generation. While this may be a welcome development for those who are eager to see more private capital flowing into clean energy, we should be careful to remember the painful lessons learned when unregulated private capital takes over vital infrastructure.

But there are alternatives, as Harold Hotelling made clear almost a century ago in his argument in favor of using taxes on land and wealth to pay for the fixed costs of new public infrastructure.352See Hotelling, supra note 68, at 245. Although it seems unrealistic to expect full government financing for new infrastructure along the lines of what Hotelling and some contemporary proponents of the Big Green State have advocated for, it is still important to articulate the details of how these new public enterprises would be structured and governed—a task that requires attention not only to past experiences with state-owned enterprises, various public power projects, and municipal utilities, but also one that critically evaluates emerging approaches such as the UK’s Low Carbon Contract Company and similar efforts around the world. Government-backed financing arrangements can also provide cheap long-term capital to various forms of community and cooperative arrangements. And, of course, recent calls for a new public investment authority and efforts in various states to revive public ownership and control over clean energy assets could also serve as examples of a more robust public role in the clean energy transition.353See, e.g., Saule Omarova, Berggruen Inst., The National Investment Authority: An Institutional Blueprint 62 (2024); Robert C. Hockett & Saule T. Omarova, Private Wealth and Public Goods: The Case for a National Investment Authority, 43 J. Corp. Law 437, 437 (2018).

As for the IRA and the use of tax credits to de-risk private investment, the key question here is whether the public will get anything in return for the use of public money to drive investment in new assets and infrastructure or whether the new private renewable energy asset owners will capture the majority of the benefits of public support. As noted, the new direct pay provisions under the IRA could be used to support various forms of public ownership of renewable energy, but it seems unlikely that this will scale quickly.

A third option that offers a middle path between public ownership and the pure de-risking approach is U.S. style public utility regulation, which has long served to channel large amounts of low-cost capital into long-lived physical assets.354See Boyd, supra note 36, at 1683–99 (discussing need for planning and investment in clean energy transition and role of public utility cost-of-service rate regulation as a mechanism for securing capital on favorable terms and directing it toward large investments in generation, transmission, and distribution); Boyd & Carlson, supra note 36, at 844–61 (discussing the role of public utility cost-of-service rate making in financing large low-carbon generation assets such as nuclear power and carbon capture and storage as well as in various grid modernization efforts). Under this approach, public utilities are allowed a guaranteed rate of return on their prudent investments that covers their costs including the cost of capital. The certainty of cost recovery through rates has historically translated into a lower cost of capital. Moreover, under the basic model (which, to be sure, does not always work as intended), once the costs are recovered in rates and the assets are depreciated, they are no longer charging costs to the ratepayers beyond whatever it takes to keep them running, which is very little in the case of wind and solar. Critics will surely rehearse all of the problems and perverse incentives that are embedded in public utility regulation, all of which ultimately depend on how well regulators do their jobs. At the very least, though, it seems important to acknowledge the promise that public utility regulation holds for more public control over the direction of private capital investment and the mechanisms of cost recovery. This seems particularly important for renewable energy, which in many ways is a perfect fit for cost-of-service regulation given the fact that these projects are almost all capital costs, which should make financing and cost-recovery much more straightforward than traditional fossil fuel assets.

The key takeaway in all of this is that we have returned, it seems, to many of the fundamental questions regarding capital and infrastructure that Hotelling and others raised during the middle decades of the 20th century.355See Hotelling, supra note 68, at 257–60; see also discussion supra Section I.A.2. In Hotelling’s view, the “general welfare,” as he called it, was best served when the fixed costs of infrastructure investments were paid from taxes on income, inheritances, and land, which would then allow the public to pay only the short-run marginal costs of using the asset, which in many cases was zero.356See Hotelling, supra note 68, at 242. In effect, Hotelling was arguing for using taxes on the wealthy to support public infrastructure, which promised to deliver enormous benefits to the public that far outweighed the costs imposed.357Id. at 257–60.

In some ways, the IRA tax credit provisions could be read as a partial realization of Hotelling’s argument. Substantial tax revenues (albeit in the form of foregone taxes or so-called tax expenditures) are being used to build part of the infrastructure we need for the clean energy transition. The only problem is that we have allowed private financial institutions and large corporations to take the tax credits and own the assets. If anything, then, the current use of public money to de-risk private investment looks like a neoliberal inversion of Hotelling’s argument. In this view, it is a mistake to suggest that the ultimate ownership of the assets does not matter. As the great clean energy buildout proceeds, the critical question is how much rent these asset owners will be able to extract from the public for the use of those assets. Put another way, once these projects are paid off, the owners will continue to extract rents for the use of resources that are essentially free and have been partially financed by public expenditures in the form of tax credits. But only if we let them.

Hotelling, of course, was writing against the backdrop of massive government spending on infrastructure, particularly for large public power projects, and a concerted government effort through initiatives such as the Tennessee Valley Authority and the Rural Electrification Administration (among others) to ensure near-universal access to affordable electricity. To be sure, our world is quite different than the one Hotelling was writing about, but we are clearly at the beginning of another substantial buildout of new infrastructure, where questions of cost recovery, cost of capital, access, and affordability will be front and center. One of the major claims of this Article is that the market-based approach to electricity of the last forty years—that is, the effort to make electricity into a commodity—will not get the job done. Policymakers, market regulators, and even some economists have started to recognize this. But the question of what comes next is still unresolved, notwithstanding the strong tendencies pushing toward a financialized and privatized version of the clean energy future. While there is surely no one right way to decommodify electricity, in all cases it seems critical to think of the new assets being built (and, perhaps, the capital being invested in those assets) as part of a common infrastructure and key system of provisioning for basic needs. In this vision, renewable energy and storage, which will likely be the dominant sources of electricity in a decarbonized future, should be essentially free once the capital costs have been paid. And that should open up a range of possibilities for making electricity widely available at low and stable prices.358 Cf. Benkler, supra note 40, at 103 (“A critical goal of any post-neoliberal order would bemoving toward meaningful, if partial, decommodification of the basic necessities of life so that more people have a chance to live decently without being forced to sell their labor or maximize their earnings.”).

B.  Social Ratemaking

A fundamental commitment of Don’t Pay UK was that electricity is too important to be left to a system of markets and price rationing. Their demands for an end to prepayment meters and for a social tariff that would provide a stable, affordable rate structure for all customers reflected a view that electricity is a primary social good (an “essential service,” as Felix Frankfurter once put it) that needs to be made available to everyone on reasonable terms.359See Felix Frankfurter, The Public and its Government 81 (1930) (“No task more profoundly tests the capacity of our government, both in nation and state, than its share in securing for society those essential services which are furnished by public utilities.”). This was, as noted, a basic commitment of many of the nationalized systems of the past, which, despite all of their problems, were directed at providing reliable and affordable electricity to everyone and often explicitly conceived as part of a broader redistributive welfare state.

In the U.S., the older regulated public utility model incorporated some of these commitments, but all too often fell short of the goal of universal access. Expansive federal support for rural electrification, regional experiments such as the Tennessee Valley Authority, and large public power projects were also based on strong public commitments to providing cheap and reliable electricity to all households.360See Shelley Welton, Clean Electrification, 88 Univ. Colo. L. Rev. 571, 613–17 (2016) (discussing role of public power projects such as the Tennessee Valley Authority and the Rural Electrification Administration in ensuring access and affordability); Welton, supra note 351, at 267 (discussing different forms of “public energy” and their role in the clean energy transition). That work is still not done, despite its increasing urgency.361See, e.g., Tribal Energy Development, U.S. Dep’t Energy (Mar. 29, 2023), https://www.doi.gov/ocl/tribal-energy-development [https://perma.cc/48PY-TGNP] (“21% of Navajo Nation homes and 35% of Hopi Indian Tribe homes are unelectrified.”).

Access and affordability are important on their own terms, given that electricity is a necessity and increasingly important to everyday life.362 See Welton, supra note 360, at 580 (highlighting the importance of access to affordable electricity as a means of enabling broad participation in the economy and civil society). But, they are also critical to a clean energy transition that is built around electrification. As noted, the whole strategy of decarbonization through electrification requires that people use more electricity, not just for the normal activities of the past but also for cooking, heating, and mobility. And one way to get people to use more electricity, especially people with limited budgets, is to make it cheaper for them to do so. Social ratemaking, to use Alfred Kahn’s dismissive phrase, will thus need to be a key feature of the clean energy transition.363See Klass & Chan, supra note 343, at 1462 (“All ratemaking is ‘social ratemaking.’ ”); see also id. at 1426 (“Rate setting is and always has been social policy implemented within a legislative framework designed to promote the public interest.”).

There is a history here that is worth recalling briefly.364 See id. at 1463–70 (tracing the history of low-income and lifeline rates). During the 1970s, at the same time that state PUCs were considering marginal cost pricing as a way of improving efficiency and promoting conservation, consumer and ratepayer advocacy groups were also pushing state PUCs to adopt new rate structures that would cushion the impact of high and rising prices on low-income customers.365The Utility Reform Network (“TURN”) first advocated for the adoption of lifeline rates in a general rate case for Pacific Gas & Electric in 1974. The Vermont Public Interest Research Group was active in pushing for similar reforms before the Vermont legislature. Over the next several years, various consumer groups and ratepayer advocates around the country began to push for similar rate reforms among state legislatures and PUCs. For a review, see generally Paul Rodgers & J. Edward Smith, Jr., Nat’l Ass’n Regul. Util. Comm’rs, Lifeline Rates (1976). In 1974, the Colorado PUC was the first in the country to adopt a system of “lifeline” rates establishing a minimum block of service at below average costs.366See Decision and Order of the Commission Establishing New Rates and Tarrifs, No. 86821, Colo. Pub. Util. Comm’n, at 21 (Sept. 24, 1974) (“Today, the Commission finds and adopts as being in the public interest and consistent with the Public Utilities Law, the concept of ‘lifeline’ pricing for minimum electric service . . . . It should be recognized that at the outset that as we use the term, ‘lifeline’ service refers to the level of use and not the economic situation of the user. Thus, a minimum user, regardless of economic status, will be entitled to the lifeline rate which we establish today.”). The California PUC followed in 1975 with a rate case for PG&E that adopted a similar system of lifeline rates providing a cheap initial block of electricity for “essential needs.”367See Application No. 54279 et al. of Pacific Gas and Electric Company, Decision No. 84902, Cal. Pub. Util. Comm’n, at 148 (Sept. 16, 1975) (“ . . . [W]e adopt a simplified rate structure which provides no increase in rates for residential customers who use less than a basic, minimum amount of electricity . . . . Our intention is to freeze rates for this minimum amount of usage until these rates are significantly below the average rates in the system.”); see also Stephen Mintz, Dept. of Energy, Off. Consumer Affairs/Special Impact, The Lifeline Rate Concept 4 (1976) (“A lifeline rate would make available a basic minimum amount of electricity to everyone at a fair and reasonable cost.”). That same year, the state adopted legislation codifying the concept of lifeline rates and stating explicitly that light and heat were “basic human rights [that] must be made available to all people at low cost for basic minimum quantities.”368See Miller-Warren Energy Lifeline Act, 1975 Cal. Stat. 2388, Sec. 1(a). Among other things, the legislation required the PUC to designate a baseline quantity of gas and electricity necessary to supply a significant portion of the reasonable energy needs of the average residential customer at rates below average cost. As initially designed, the California lifeline program struggled with how to define the amount of electricity required to meet “essential needs,” and developed a system of “special allowances” to accommodate certain classes of customers as well as variability of energy use across different climatic zones within the state. In 1982, the legislature approved new legislation that established “baseline rates” (essentially another name for lifeline rates) and removed the special allowances and other end-use criteria. Instead, the baseline amount was fixed at 50% to 60% of average residential consumption for most residential customers and 60% to 70% of average residential consumption during the winter for customers with all-electric residences. See Michael Hennessy & Dennis M. Keane, Lifeline Rates in California: Pricing Electricity to Attain Social Goals, 13 Eval. Rev 123, 123–24 (1989). As the name suggested, the overall objective of lifeline rates was to ensure that all customers would have access to a sufficient amount of electricity to meet their basic needs.369Mintz, supra note 367, at 27 (“The low-income household and the low fixed-income elderly household are dependent upon electricity to maintain health and home. When the price of electricity rises to a point where it begins to consume an unusually large share of income, lifestyle is threatened. Lifeline would guarantee an amount of electricity which can provide for the basics of life at a reasonable rate . . . . It is a concept designed to distribute energy to people in a fair manner.”). But see Lenneal J. Henderson Jr., Public Utility Regulations: The Socioeconomic Dimensions of Reform, 9 Rev. Black Pol. Econ. 260, 272 (1979) (“Fundamentally, the lifeline concept is an emergency concept which is aimed less at the incorporation of a basic social equity principle in utility pricing than at providing an emergency service to the needy at less than normal cost.”). For use beyond that basic amount, rates would increase, following what is known as an inverted rate structure.

Other states followed suit. By the 1980s, more than twenty states in the U.S. had adopted some version of lifeline rates.370See Elliot Taubman & Neal Rauch, Recent Decisions on Rate Structure Reform: A Survey with Emphasis on Lifeline Rates, 10 Clearinghouse Rev. 607, 607 (1976); Rodgers & Smith, supra note 365, at 1–2. Although some critics argued that the system of lifeline rates departed from cost-based pricing (given that the rates for the initial lifeline block of electricity were typically below average costs) and that they violated the core public utility commitment to non-discrimination between customers, commissions and legislatures had little trouble finding that a baseline amount of electricity to meet essential needs for all customers was in the public interest and consistent with public utility law.371See, e.g., Ashley C. Schannauer, Lifeline Electric Rates: Are They Unreasonably Discriminatory?, 83 Dickinson L. Rev. 541, 541 (1979). In fact, the inverted rate structure that resulted from the use of lifeline rates, where subsequent blocks of electricity were priced at above average costs to make up for the below average cost of the initial block, corrected for some the cross-subsidies inherent in so-called promotional or declining block rates and were consistent with the energy conservation goals that were increasingly dominating discussions of rate design during and after the energy crisis of the 1970s.372During the energy crisis of the 1970s, environmental advocates and the federal government embraced inverted rate structures because they promoted conservation. Inverted rates also worked to mitigate some of the cross subsidies that were inherent in the declining block rate system where poor customers often ended up paying more per kilowatt-hour than wealthier customers, who typically used much more electricity than poor customers. One of the great advantages of lifeline rates, moreover, was that they did not require any sort of means testing, making them much easier to administer.

But various means-tested programs have been adopted over the years, including direct assistance, reduced billing and rebates, and targeted weatherization and efficiency programs.373See, e.g., Kenneth W. Costello, Features of Good Utility-Initiated Energy Assistance, 139 Energy Pol’y 1, 1 (2020) (discussing various utility programs for low-income households); Leslie W. Baxter, Electricity Policies for Low-Income Households, 26 Energy Pol’y 247, 247 (1998) (reviewing various energy assistance, consumer protection, and weatherization programs targeted at low-income households); Lenneal J. Henderson, Jr., Energy Policy and Socio-Economic Growth in Low-Income Communities, 8 Rev. Black Pol. Econ. 87, 102 (1977) (summarizing a wide range of energy policy issues related to poor households). Most recently, California enacted legislation in 2022 that calls for a new system of progressive income-based fixed charges for utility customers that seeks to reduce the growing burden of system costs on poor households and redistribute some of these costs to wealthier households.374A.B. 205, Ch. 61, Sec. 10 (Cal. 2022); Cal. Pub. Util. Code § 739.9 (West 2022); see also Cal. Pub. Util. Comm’n, Utility Costs and Affordability of the Grid of the Future: An Evaluation of Electric Costs, Rates, and Equity Issues Pursuant to PU Code Section 913.1 7 (2021) (discussing rising rates for California electricity customers and the need “to employ aggressive

actions to minimize growth in utility rate base and to protect lower-income ratepayers from cost shifts and bill impacts”); Severin Borenstein, Meredith Fowlie & James Sallee, Designing Electricity Rates for an Equitable Energy Transition 4–5 (UC Berkeley Haas Energy Inst., Working Paper No. 314, 2021).
While the measure has generated an enormous amount of controversy and opposition and while there are important questions regarding implementation, including whether the program will further encourage so-called grid defection by the wealthy, the effort represents an important experiment directed at affordability in the face of rising costs.375See, e.g., Rose Horowitch, Richer People Pay More: California’s Dramatic Change to Electricity Bills, Guardian (June 6, 2023, 4:48 P.M.), https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2023/jun/06/california-income-based-electricity-fees-2025 [https://perma.cc/H44J-L46X].

In the UK and elsewhere, there are ongoing debates over the need for “social tariffs,” which provide targeted discount rates for low-income, elderly, and other customer groups.376See generally Nicole Watson, Patrick Grimes & Nikki Sutherland, House of Commons Library, Debate on Energy Social Tariffs (2023) (discussing history, background, and key features of proposal for energy social tariff in the UK). As noted in the introduction, this has been one of the main demands of Don’t Pay UK and other similar grassroots groups.377See supra text accompanying note 7. Various EU member countries have also used a system of cheap initial block rates, similar to lifeline rates in the U.S., as well as rebates, direct transfers, and more holistic approaches such as social housing to ensure affordability.378See Philipp Lausberg & Tijn Croon, Europe Must Fight Energy Poverty More Effectively, European Pol’y Ctr. (Jan. 19, 2023), https://www.epc.eu/en/publications/-Europe-must-fight-energy-poverty-more-effectively~4da8dc [https://perma.cc/S4P5-JVFL].

This kind of social ratemaking represents a major departure from the commitments of neoliberal electricity and reflects a growing recognition that electricity is too important to be treated as a commodity where everyone is expected to pay their own way. By explicitly structuring rates to support low-income customers, these various programs resurrect earlier redistributionist objectives of ratemaking and serve to reinforce the broad commitment to the public interest that motivated much of the early development of public utility law.379See Boyd, supra note 8, at 750–61 (tracing the history of just price and the public interest in public utility law).

Going forward, if we approach electricity as a system of provisioning for necessities rather than as a commodity that should be priced at marginal cost, there is a strong argument for a commitment to some form of social ratemaking, perhaps even universal basic service. In a renewables-dominated world, moreover, where financing of new projects has access to a low cost of capital, we should be able to spread these costs across a stable rate structure over long time frames. One can think of this more like a long-term fixed rate mortgage rather than a series of volatile market transactions tied to unpredictable markets. Customers who wish to opt into time-of-use or other forms of dynamic rates should continue to have that option. And regulators will surely continue to experiment with new pricing schemes that will drive certain kinds of investments. California’s new Net Energy Metering framework, for example, shifts the benefits of net metering from distributed generation to distributed storage.380See Decision Revising Net Energy Metering Tariffs and Subtariffs, Rulemaking 20-08-020, Cal. Pub. Util. Comm’n, at 2 (Dec. 15, 2022). In simplest terms, the new net metering rules, which govern the rates that rooftop solar customers receive for the electricity they put back on the grid during periods of excess generation, reduce the amounts received during periods of the day when there is substantial excess solar on the system and increase the amounts they would receive during the early evening (after the sun goes down), which operates as an incentive to adopt new distributed storage systems that can store the excess electricity from solar and then export it back to the grid in the evening. Although the rooftop solar industry has reacted with outrage at the new rules,381See, e.g., Ryan Kennedy, California Pulls the Plug on Rooftop Solar, PV Mag. (Dec. 19, 2022), https://pv-magazine-usa.com/2022/12/15/california-pulls-the-plug-on-rooftop-solar [https://perma.cc/95XG-VC4M]. it is important to recognize this effort for what it is: California is using prices to drive investment in behind-the-meter storage because that is what the system currently needs. This is the Boituex vision of using price signals to drive investment toward a particular mix of assets.

With more electric vehicles and distributed energy resources connecting to the grid, questions about how to price electricity for those customers who are able to take advantage of distributed energy and those who are not and how to allocate system costs across these different customer groups will be increasingly important and connected to broader questions of economic policy and social welfare. For the vast majority of customers, however, it seems that simple, stable rates that allow for predictable household expenditures and budgeting are surely preferable to a world of constantly changing price signals.

As the system settles down and the infrastructure gets built out, moreover, responsive pricing may come to matter less. In a world of zero marginal costs, and especially in a world where storage is able to spread zero marginal cost resources across the entire day, short-run costs will ultimately collapse into long-term financing costs. In that world, stable, affordable rates can serve as a stabilizing mechanism for the clean energy transition and the broader economy.382This would, of course, have important benefits for macroeconomic stabilization, bringing an end to the energy price shocks and inflation effects of the fossil fuel dominated energy system of the last half century. See Enrico Turco, Davide Bazzana, Massimiliano Rizzati, Emanuele Ciola & Sergio Vergalli, Energy Price Shocks and Stabilization Policies in the MATRIX Model, 177 Energy Pol’y 1, 1 (2023) ( “[G]overnment-funded energy tariff reduction is the most effective policy in mitigating GDP losses at relatively low public costs, particularly when coupled with an extra-profit tax on energy firms.”); see also Anton Korinek & Joseph E. Stiglitz, Macroeconomic Stabilization for a Post-Pandemic World: Revising the Fiscal-Monetary Policy Mix and Correcting Macroeconomic Externalities 2 (Brookings Hutchins Ctr. Working Paper No. 78, Aug. 2022).

C.  Cooperative Balancing

A decommodified approach to electricity also entails new thinking about balancing across the system. This is especially important as intermittent renewables such as wind and solar become a larger source of electricity, whether at utility scale or so-called behind-the-meter distributed generation. Because intermittent renewable energy makes everything on the system intermittent, this can make it difficult to finance and recover costs for other assets. In a renewables-dominated world, natural gas plants and batteries are essentially on hold waiting to see when the wind stops blowing or the sun stops shining. In effect, renewable power has been pushing the costs of intermittency onto the rest of the system.383See Deiter Helm, Cost of Energy Review 19 (2017) (discussing how costs of intermittency are not currently borne by those who cause them).

There are a variety of solutions here. One obvious approach would be to require all generators to offer firm power all the time.384 Id. at 89. That is happening in some power purchase agreements (“PPAs”) and there are proposals to require this in some markets outside of the United States. More transmission providing access to more and different types of renewables across larger geographies can also help. Windy nights in Wyoming and Colorado could be used to complement sunny days in Arizona and California. Storage could also play a major role here, effectively allowing wind and solar to be spread out over the course of the day.

But under any approach, the fact that renewables are intermittent and non-dispatchable will require new approaches to balancing the system. And this needs to happen on both ends of the grid: the bulk power supply side as well as the demand side.

On the bulk power supply side, as intermittent renewables account for a higher and higher portion of supply, broader regional and inter-regional approaches to balancing will become more important. The existing RTO and ISO markets can provide some of this. The Western Energy Imbalance Market and the proposed Southeast Energy Market (“SEEM”) are other examples. While we can debate the pros and cons of different approaches (real-time auctions versus bilateral contracts traded over an exchange), the larger question is whether these arrangements should be viewed as competitive or collaborative.

In their original manifestation, balancing markets grew out of the old tight power pools of the middle decades of the twentieth century, where large vertically-integrated utilities developed cooperative arrangements to share reserves and power so that they could deliver reliable power more cheaply than they could acting alone.385See William J. Baumol, Paul L. Joskow & Alfred E. Kahn, Edison Electr. Inst., The Challenge for Federal and State Regulators: Transition from Regulated to Efficient Competition in Electric Power 42 (Dec. 9, 1994) (Appendix A of Initial Comments of Edison Electric Institute, Docket No. RM94.7.000, FERC) (“The efficiency benefits that the industry achieves today by intercompany coordination are enormous. As we have already pointed out, pooling, which substantially reduces the dispatch cost of generation, mutual backup and enhanced reliability of service, makes a major contribution to reduced costs. Numerous bilateral and multilateral agreements and contracts are in place to effect this coordination and to make it possible to ‘move’ power from sellers in one area to buyers in another. For the most part these arrangements relate to transactions between interconnected, vertically integrated utilities. The cooperation that they entail will inevitably be more willingly undertaken among companies that have franchised monopolies in their assigned retail service areas than it will if they are direct competitors. Devising ways to maintain the very large benefits of coordination in a fully competitive generation market will not be a simple task.”). The entire approach was based on a simple “split-savings” arrangement under which the cooperating utilities shared the savings.386 See Joskow & Schmalensee, supra note 52, at 66–77 (discussing inter-utility coordination and pooling). This system worked because it was built on reciprocity and mutual assistance among similarly situated actors.387 Id. Such an approach may be more difficult in the current environment, with its mix of different regulatory and ownership structures, but the regional balancing authorities and load serving entities of today do have a strong incentive to find new approaches to cooperative balancing. Regional experimentation will be critical, but one could imagine a world of short-term regional energy imbalance markets constructed around principles of joint dispatch and reserve sharing—where different balancing authorities are cooperating with each other based on an agreed set of protocols and prices. The key point here is that the short-term markets would be deployed as tools to help balance the system rather than as arenas for competition and price discovery.

At the inter-regional scale, there are ongoing efforts, including proposed bipartisan legislation, to promote and even require substantial transfer capacity between the big regional systems that make up the U.S. power grid.388 Among other things, the Big Wires Act would require 30% transfer capacity between regions. See Big Wires Act, S. 2827,118th Cong., at 6 (2023); see also Ethan Howland, FERC Urged to Set Interregional Transfer Capacity Requirements to Boost Reliability, Lower Costs, Utility Dive (Dec. 6, 2022), https://www.utilitydive.com/news/ferc-interregional-transfer-capacity-reliability-transmission/638066 [https://perma.cc/5UTA-CTWM]; Patrick R. Brown & Audun Botterud, The Value of Inter-Regional Coordination and Transmission in Decarbonizing the US Electricity System, 5 Joule 115, 115 (2020). Having access to substantial flows of power from outside the Texas market during Winter Storm Uri, for example, would have made a huge difference.389See Michael Goggin, Grid Strategies, LLC, Transmission Makes the Power System Resilient to Extreme Weather 2 (2021) (noting that “[e]ach additional 1 GigaWatt (GW) of transmission ties between the Texas power grid (ERCOT) and the Southeastern U.S. could have saved nearly $1 billion, while keeping the heat on for hundreds of thousands of Texans” during Winter Storm Uri (emphasis omitted)). As climate disruption intensifies, moreover, more robust transfer capacity across regions can provide crucial resources to make up shortfalls and enhance resilience. Such transfer capacity can also provide much needed assistance during various sorts of market disruptions. Substantial new investments in high voltage transmission connecting key regions across the EU, for example, allowed for large transfers of bulk power across the continent to manage some of the disruptions during the recent energy crisis and ultimately kept the lights on for millions of people despite the rapid and dramatic reduction in natural gas supplies because of the Russian invasion of Ukraine.390See Ben McWilliams, Giovanni Sgaravatti, Simone Tagliapietra & Georg Zachmann, A Grand Bargain to Steer Through the European Union’s Energy Crisis, Bruegel Pol’y Contribution, Sept. 2022, at 1, 1–2. This new transfer capacity was explicitly based on a fundamental commitment to solidarity and mutual assistance among the EU member states that sought to compensate for the significant shortcomings of the market.391Id.

On the demand side, ongoing experiments with incentive-based demand-response programs and new rate structures offer promising ways forward for a system that includes demand not simply as a resource to be managed but as an active participant in the balancing of the system. The question here, though, is whether it is possible to think about demand response based on notions of reciprocity and cooperation rather than responsive pricing where each individual customer is left to decide how they will respond to price signals. Given how rapid the demand side is changing amid significant growth of distributed energy resources and electric vehicles, it is impossible to say how this might be organized in practice and whether individuals would ever embrace a more cooperative and collective approach to the electricity system. It is quite possible, maybe even likely, that we are headed in a very different direction where rich households and gated communities can defect entirely from the grid, leaving the rest of us to pay the fees that the owners of the system demand.392See Sharon Jacobs & Dave Owen, Community Energy Exit, 73 Duke L.J. 251, 315 (2023) (discussing challenges posed by distributed generation and community microgrids to existing of electricity regulation); Boyd, supra note 36, at 1614 (discussing challenges of distributed generation for the broader “public” commitments of public utility). But there are alternatives and there may well be deeper commitments in play here than we realize. In September 2022, during an intense heat wave that pushed California’s electricity system to its limit, the government sent a text message to everyone in the state asking them to step up and reduce their electricity demand over a period of hours.393See Grace Toohey & Alexandra E. Petri, A Text Asked Millions of Californians to Save Energy. They Paid Heed, Averting Blackouts; L.A. Times (Sept. 7, 2022, 8:30 PM), https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2022-09-07/a-text-asked-millions-of-californians-to-save-energy-they-listened-averting-blackouts [https://perma.cc/NR9V-J6S4]. We did it and it worked and for a brief moment we were reminded that the electricity system is in fact a shared, collective infrastructure.

CONCLUSION

The forty-year experiment with electricity markets is coming to an end. Policymakers and regulators around the world now recognize that these markets have been unable to deliver on even the most basic metrics and have launched a series of reform efforts. While there are various reasons for these failures, this Article has demonstrated that they trace back in large part to the basic design of these markets and their distinctive ways of price making. That basic market design, and the broader effort to turn electricity into a commodity, was built around fossil fuel generation and a commitment to harnessing the price system to squeeze as much efficiency out of the system as possible. But that approach no longer makes sense in the face of radical shifts in the goals, underlying technologies, and cost structures of the power sector. It is time to recognize that we are at the beginning of a new age of electricity—one in which electricity is now the chief instrument of decarbonization for most economies around the world and an increasingly critical infrastructure for vast domains of everyday life.

Needless to say, the stakes in all of this are quite high. If we cannot fix electricity, we will surely fail in our effort to fix the climate. Part of that is an investment challenge. But part of it is, as this Article has made clear, a provisioning challenge. Fixing electricity, in other words, means that we also must solve the access and affordability problem at the same time that we dramatically increase investment in new assets and infrastructure. Rapid decarbonization via electrification will not happen unless we can ensure universal access to electricity at stable and affordable rates. Put another way, electricity policy is climate policy. But it is also social policy, and it is no longer possible or prudent to ignore the connections between the two.

97 S. Cal. L. Rev. 937

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* Professor and Michael J. Klein Chair, UCLA School of Law; Professor, UCLA Institute of the Environment and Sustainability. Drafts of this Article were presented at the second Networks, Platforms, and Utilities Conference at Vanderbilt Law School, the UCLA/Colorado Climate Change Law and Policy Workshop, and the Law and Political Economy Workshop at Harvard Law School. Many thanks to the participants for helpful comments. Special thanks also to Samantha Lusher and Alice Carli for outstanding research assistance, and to the wonderful editors at the Southern California Law Review.

Our Parochial Administrative Law

Going back to the birth of modern administrative law in America reveals something striking. The pioneers of the field and many who followed in their footsteps weren’t trying to fashion a body of law for a rapidly expanding administrative state by being exclusively self-referential—that is, by focusing only on our own idiosyncratic experiences and needs in the United States. Rather, they were consistently looking at what we might learn from other nations as well. In short, modern administrative law began in America very much as an exercise in comparative or transnational law. Fast forward to today, and this intense comparative engagement has almost vanished from the administrative law scene. It lives, but only on the very margins of the scholarly and policy debate without any real purchase or impact. What’s more, even when administrative law comparison does suddenly appear in quite prominent places, its employment seems so problematic that it actually gives the entire enterprise a bad rap. For instance, in his dissent from a denial of cert. in Buffington v. McDonough from the October 2022 Term, Justice Gorsuch chastised his colleagues for refusing to reevaluate Chevron deference among other things by noting simply that other countries “declined to adopt” something similar. To be sure, Justice Gorsuch’s comparative statement seems superficially true. But it suffers from many of the familiar failures of irresponsible comparative inference—including by being shallow, acontextual, and selective. In fact, Justice Gorsuch’s comparativism in Buffington may not only be flawed but also what comparativists might call “abusive”—that is, it was done in the service of gradually undermining what our constitutionally legitimate administrative state presently seems to require.

This Article calls for reviving comparative administrative law as a much more meaningful enterprise in our system, arguing that its many benefits should cause domestic scholars to engage in it more and judges, litigators, and policymakers to not be reluctant to use it as well. In the process, this Article also suggests how precisely to approach comparative administrative law in useful and productive—rather than shallow and abusive—ways that would avoid the kind of pitfalls characteristic of Justice Gorsuch’s opinion in Buffington. With the Court any day now poised to conclusively opine on the continued validity of Chevron deference in two cases that came to it after Buffington, Loper Bright Enterprises v. Raimondo and Relentless, Inc. v. Department of Commerce, and given the larger pressures our administrative state faces, considering the values of administrative law comparison and how to employ it properly seems exactly opportune.

Part I tracks the rise and fall of comparative administrative law in the U.S. through the years and suggests the causes for its demise. Part II makes the affirmative case for comparative administrative law’s revival, emphasizing the increased possibilities for such comparison today, its ability to enhance understanding of our own administrative law and to point in the direction of desirable reforms, and identifying what this Article calls a “modest and experimentalist” approach that should enable amplifying comparativism’s place while avoiding risks of misuse and abuse. Part III then illustrates this approach by discussing two doctrinal areas where our administrative law could indeed learn valuable lessons by looking outside: first, the law governing administrative guidance, and, second, Chevron, illustrating how an adequate comparative approach rectifies Buffington’s failures and might usefully illuminate the Court’s analysis in either Loper Bright and Relentless or well beyond. The Article concludes by highlighting strategies to support the desired comparative administrative law rebirth, pointing to changes in the law school curriculum and in some scholarly, judicial, and bar practices.

INTRODUCTION

In the field of administrative law, we love our history. We frequently turn to history, for example, to try and figure out the origins of our administrative state, debating whether it is a relatively recent creation or rather a much older one.1Compare Daniel P. Carpenter, The Forging of Bureaucratic Autonomy: Reputations, Networks, and Policy Innovation in Executive Agencies, 1862–1928, at 8–9 (2001) (emphasizing the recency of the administrative state and that it was largely a creation of the end of the nineteenth and twentieth century), and Stephen Skowronek, Building a New American State: The Expansion of National Administrative Capacities, 1877–1920, at 24–26 (1982) (same), with Jerry L. Mashaw, Creating the Administrative Constitution: The Lost One Hundred Years of American Administrative Law 3–5 (2012) (emphasizing the administrative state has much older roots than conventional stories tell), and Nicholas R. Parrillo, A Critical Assessment of the Originalist Case Against Administrative Regulatory Power: New Evidence from the Federal Tax on Private Real Estate in the 1790s, 130 Yale L.J. 1288, 1288 (2021) (same). We turn to history too to make better sense of the passage of the Administrative Procedure Act of 1946 (“APA”)—discerning the various forces that were pushing for it (or against it),2See, e.g., George B. Shepherd, Fierce Compromise: The Administrative Procedure Act Emerges from New Deal Politics, 90 Nw. U. L. Rev. 1557, 1558–61 (1996) (providing a by now canonical account of the emergence of the APA as a result of a preceding struggle); Joanna L. Grisinger, The Unwieldy American State: Administrative Politics Since the New Deal 59 (2012) (similar). and what ideas or compromises exactly stood behind its various provisions and instructions.3See, e.g., Paul R. Verkuil, The Administrative Procedure Act at 75: Observations and Reflections, 28 Geo. Mason L. Rev. 533, 534–36 (2021) (describing the ideas and thought behind some of the APA’s central provisions); Emily S. Bremer, The Undemocratic Roots of Agency Rulemaking, 108 Cornell L. Rev. 69, 90–101 (2022) (same, with a focus on notice-and-comment rulemaking); Blake Emerson, The Public’s Law: Origins and Architecture of Progressive Democracy 21 (2019) (discussing the general ideational influences on modern administrative law). And we finally turn to history to understand what role different institutions or players were believed to have (or should have) over the administrative apparatus more broadly—whether those are the courts,4See, e.g., Thomas W. Merrill, Article III, Agency Adjudication, and the Origins of the Appellate Review Model of Administrative Law, 111 Colum. L. Rev. 939, 953–69 (2011) (discussing the early modern evolution of judicial review of administrative action). the President,5See, e.g., Noah A. Rosenblum, The Antifascist Roots of Presidential Administration, 122 Colum. L. Rev. 1, 18–31 (2022) (providing one account of the historical evolution of the role of the president in the administrative state). Congress,6See, e.g., Louis Fisher, The Legislative Veto: Invalidated, It Survives, 56 L. & Contemp. Probs. 273, 275–84 (1993) (discussing the historical pedigree of the legislative veto); Abner S. Greene, Checks and Balances in an Era of Presidential Lawmaking, 61 U. Chi. L. Rev. 123, 163–66 (1994) (same). or much beyond.7See, e.g., Reuel E. Schiller, Enlarging the Administrative Polity: Administrative Law and the Changing Definition of Pluralism, 1945–1970, 53 Vand. L. Rev. 1389, 1399–1404 (2000) (discussing the role of interest groups and a broadly general commitment to the ideology of pluralism as significantly impacting the shape and development of administrative law). For some, this continuous turn to administrative law history is done as a source of intellectual learning and reflection about our past, sometimes in order to better grasp why our law is what it is today or what opportunities we might have to change it.8See, e.g., Daniel R. Ernst, Tocqueville’s Nightmare: The Administrative State Emerges in America, 1900–1940, at 6–7 (2014) (discussing the ideas that shaped up the foundational structures of the administrative state); Mark Tushnet, Administrative Law in the 1930s: The Supreme Court’s Accommodation of Progressive Legal Theory, 60 Duke L.J. 1565, 1566–68 (2011) (similar). For others, embracing labels such as administrative law “originalism”9See, e.g., Evan D. Bernick, Envisioning Administrative Procedure Act Originalism, 70 Admin. L. Rev. 807, 834–35 (2018) (defending administrative law originalism); Jeffrey A. Pojanowski, Neoclassical Administrative Law, 133 Harv. L. Rev. 852, 884–95 (2020) (defending a more self-proclaimed softened version of constitutional and administrative law originalism). or APA “textualism,”10See, e.g., Kathryn E. Kovacs, Superstatute Theory and Administrative Common Law, 90 Ind. L.J. 1207, 1251 (2015) (defending a version of administrative law originalism); John F. Duffy, Administrative Common Law in Judicial Review, 77 Tex. L. Rev. 113, 141 (1998) (criticizing central facets of administrative law as grounded in impermissible common law rather than the text of the APA). this incessant turn to history can take a much more authoritative tone—insisting that the lessons of the past might still govern us today.

But there is something in all this love that we’ve been giving to our administrative law history that we seem to be forgetting today. Our contemporary talk about our administrative past is usually pitched in strongly self-referential terms—as though modern administrative law was born out of exclusive reflection on our own idiosyncratic challenges in developing a body of law for a rapidly growing administrative state. As though it was only about “we,” “us,” and “our” needs. That, however, wasn’t the case at all. Modern administrative law didn’t begin in our system through geographically bounded reflection and thought. To the contrary, we were consistently looking at other nations and their own respective administrative states and laws to see what we might learn from them. In short, administrative law was born in America very much as an exercise in comparative or transnational law.

This is not an exaggeration. In fact, the work of scholarship that was the first to coin and popularize the term “administrative law” in the U.S. was explicitly comparative in nature. That work was Frank Goodnow’s book, suitably titled Comparative Administrative Law and published in its first edition in 1893.11Frank J. Goodnow, Comparative Administrative Law: An Analysis of the Administrative Systems National and Local, of the United States, England, France and Germany (1893). And, as its subtitle says, the book was indeed a deep comparative study of administrative systems and laws, both national and local, of the United States, the United Kingdom, France, and Germany. Goodnow also spent time in this book defending his unabashedly comparative administrative law methodology. He said for example that a “foreign point of view” is necessary because “in the present stage of the study [of the field of administrative law] it is to foreign writers that we must look for all scientific presentations of the subject.”121 Frank J. Goodnow, Comparative Administrative Law v (1893). More broadly, Goodnow argued that “only by study, and by comparison of our own with foreign administrative methods” can we meet the “enormous demands” imposed on our government by “modern complex social conditions.”13Id. at iv.

Goodnow’s 1893 book was undoubtedly important and influential. But it was by far not alone. Many other prominent administrative law scholars working from Goodnow’s time and until roughly the end of the 1960s and beginning of the 1970s were also very much in the business of studying what Goodnow called the “foreign point of view” in administrative law with impressive levels of intensity—including Ernst Freund, Roscoe Pound, Felix Frankfurter, James Landis, and later Louis Jaffe, Kenneth Culp Davis, and Walter Gellhorn.14See infra Section I.A (discussing these scholars’ contributions). Of course, unfortunately but unsurprisingly, it is worth noting that all these prominent administrative law scholars were men. The most prominent American law journals were also emphatically part of this transnational administrative law enterprise. These journals were consistently publishing at the time comparative administrative law scholarship, sometimes written by domestic public law academics but sometimes by foreign scholars who were specifically invited to contribute to their pages.15See infra Section I.A (discussing mainline American law reviews’ continuous interest in comparative administrative law). Even judges and litigators in the U.S. occasionally demonstrated interest in administrative law developments across our borders and how they might teach us about our own law.16See, e.g., Morgan v. United States, 298 U.S. 468, 482 (1936) [hereinafter Morgan I] (“The Government presses upon our attention the [British House of Lords] case of Local Government Board v. Arlidge [1915] A.C. 120 . . . .” (second alteration in original)). Comparative administrative law was also a key pedagogical tool used in the American law school classroom.17See infra Section I.A (discussing the many and varied uses of comparative administrative law in the administrative law classroom of the past). Indeed, most shockingly perhaps, our students used to know in the past quite a bit about how administrative law is practiced abroad.

It is not at all surprising then that one prominent contemporary American scholar has observed, in a rare moment of recognition of comparativism’s past dominance in the broader landscape of U.S. administrative law, that the pioneers of the field would rely on foreign and domestic sources in unison without even noting their different national origins.18See Jerry L. Mashaw, Federal Administration and Administrative Law in the Gilded Age, 119 Yale L.J. 1362, 1375 (2010) (“[T]he works of the pioneers in American administrative law . . . often drew as much on European as American sources and, when treating American law, did not distinguish between state, local, and national developments.”). As one other commentator at the time put it, proving the necessity of comparative administrative law at the time was a no-brainer—as if you were to ask someone to prove the necessity of eating something for breakfast.19See, e.g., Ludwik Ehrlich, Comparative Public Law and the Fundamentals of Its Study, 21 Colum. L. Rev. 623, 623 (1921) (noting that “[t]o justify the study of comparative public law will not be more difficult than to prove the proverbial pudding.”).

Fast forward to today, and this obvious and intense preoccupation with administrative law comparison has clearly waned. American scholars and judges working in the administrative law space rarely ever express interest today in what’s going on beyond U.S. borders. Unlike their predecessors, and even more than their colleagues in the field of constitutional law who have been flirting much more eagerly with the laws of other nations,20See, e.g., Bruce Ackerman, The Rise of World Constitutionalism, 83 Va. L. Rev. 771, 782–87, 794–97 (1997) (focusing on constitutional developments abroad and comparing them to the U.S. model of constitutionalism); Mark Tushnet, The Possibilities of Comparative Constitutional Law, 108 Yale L.J. 1225, 1257–59, 1265–69 (1999) (developing an argument for the values of engaging in comparative constitutional law from a perspective of a scholar based in the U.S.); David Fontana, The Rise and Fall of Comparative Constitutional Law in the Postwar Era, 36 Yale J. Int’l L. 1, 8–14 (2011) (documenting the rise and fall, and again rise, of the U.S. interest in comparative constitutional law). administrative law scholars, judges, and practitioners are increasingly parochial and self-referential. They don’t even debate or fight about the merits of the comparison.21For the battles on the legitimacy of the use of foreign law in the respective field of constitutional law and their centrality, see, e.g., Norman Dorsen, The Relevance of Foreign Legal Materials in U.S. Constitutional Cases: A Conversation Between Justice Antonin Scalia and Justice Stephen Breyer, 3 Int’l J. Const. L. 519, 520–24 (2005) (detailing the highly divergent views of Justice Breyer and Justice Scalia on the use of comparative materials for constitutional analysis); Stephen Breyer, The Court and the World: American Law and the New Global Realities 100–09 (2015) (developing a general argument for the positive use of comparative law in constitutional law); Ruth Bader Ginsburg, The Value of a Comparative Perspective in Judicial Decisionmaking: Imparting Experiences to, and Learning from, Other Adherents to the Rule of Law, 74 Revista Jurídica U.P.R. 213, 215–16, 219–24 (2005) (rejecting the strong criticism against the use of comparative materials in constitutional law cases); Vicki C. Jackson, Constitutional Comparisons: Convergence, Resistance, Engagement, 119 Harv. L. Rev. 109, 112–15, 120–24 (2005) (defending the use of comparative law in constitutional analysis and identifying various modes or uses it can have). It’s as if the possibility of engaging comparative administrative law is entirely invisible to them.

If you don’t believe me, try. Ask your favorite American administrative law scholar what other systems are doing in the doctrinal domain which they presently study or write about, and they will rarely know. Take from the bookshelf one of your favorite recent administrative law scholarly works (or, more realistically perhaps, search the internet on your go-to electronic database), and you will almost never find discussion of relevant foreign practice or law. Flagship law reviews also rarely publish today work that centers comparative administrative law.22See infra Section I.B. And foreign administrative law and practice basically never makes an appearance in judicial practice, either—whether being referenced in a judgment or cited in a brief.23See infra Section I.B. The work of other influential bodies in the administrative law space in America, such as the Administrative Conference of the United States, likewise rarely tries to look across geographical spaces.24See infra Section I.B. Comparative administrative law today also basically never makes an appearance in the administrative law classroom.25See infra Section I.B.

And if you think that other countries don’t notice, try again. Indeed, our substantial “uninterest[]”26Dan Priel, Conceptions of Authority and the Anglo-American Common Law Divide, 65 Am. J. Compar. L. 609, 609 (2017). in what others have to offer in administrative law is frequently remarked upon.27See, e.g., Elizabeth Fisher, The Open Road? Navigating Public Administration and the Failed Promise of Administrative Law, in The Foundations and Future of Public Law: Essays in Honour of Paul Craig 209, 212 (Elizabeth Fisher et al. eds., 2020) (noting the decrease in transatlantic dialogue on administrative law themes between the U.S. and the U.K.). As a result, the fact that a recent compilation of essays on “Judicial Review of Administrative Action Across the Common Law World” doesn’t include serious discussion of U.S. administrative law probably should be seen as a form of tit for tat.28See generally Judicial Review of Administrative Action Across the Common Law World: Origins and Adaptation (Swati Jhaveri & Michael Ramsden eds., 2021). For an even more recent compilation of essays on administrative law in common law systems that similarly fails to cover the United States, see Researching Public Law in Common Law Systems v–vi (Paul Daly & Joe Tomlinson eds., 2023).

As one might expect, there are exceptions to this contemporary administrative law parochialism in America. Occasionally, scholars in the field (or in public law more broadly) do dabble in some comparative administrative law engagement.29See infra Section I.B. And there are some serious and well-known contemporary U.S. scholars who have taken systematic interest in comparative administrative law—most prominently, Susan Rose-Ackerman,30See generally Susan Rose-Ackerman, Democracy and Executive Power: Policymaking Accountability in the U.S., the U.K., Germany, and France (2021); Susan Rose-Ackerman, Controlling Environmental Policy: The Limits of Public Law in Germany and the United States (1995). Peter Lindseth,31See generally Peter L. Lindseth, Democratic Legitimacy and the Administrative Character of Supranationalism: The Example of the European Community, 99 Colum. L. Rev. 628 (1999); Peter L. Lindseth, The Paradox of Parliamentary Supremacy: Delegation, Democracy, and Dictatorship in Germany and France, 1920s-1950s, 113 Yale L.J. 1341 (2004) [hereinafter Lindseth, The Paradox]. Francesca Bignami,32See generally Francesca Bignami, Comparative Administrative Law, in The Cambridge Companion to Comparative Law 145 (Mauro Bussani & Ugo Mattei eds., 2012) [hereinafter Bignami, Comparative]; Francesca Bignami, From Expert Administration to Accountability Network: A New Paradigm for Comparative Administrative Law, 59 Am. J. Compar. L. 859 (2011); Francesca Bignami, Regulation and the Courts: Judicial Review in Comparative Perspective, in Comparative Law and Regulation: Understanding the Global Regulatory Process 275 (Francesca Bignami & David Zaring eds., 2016). Michael Asimow,33See generally Michael Asimow, Delegated Legislation: United States and United Kingdom, 3 Oxford J. Legal Stud. 253 (1983); Michael Asimow & Jeffrey S. Lubbers, The Merits of “Merits” Review: A Comparative Look at the Australian Administrative Appeals Tribunal, 28 Windsor Y.B. Access Just. 261 (2010); Michael Asimow, Five Models of Administrative Adjudication, 63 Am. J. Compar. L. 3 (2015); Michael Asimow & Yoav Dotan, Open and Closed Judicial Review of Agency Action: The Conflicting U.S. and Israeli Approaches, 64 Am. J. Compar. L. 521 (2016). and, before his passing, Bernard Schwartz.34See generally Bernard Schwartz, Law and the Executive in Britain: A Comparative Study (1949); Bernard Schwartz, French Administrative Law and the Common Law World (1954); Bernard Schwartz, Lions Over the Throne: The Judicial Revolution in English Administrative Law (1987); Bernard Schwartz, Wade’s New Edition and Its Relevance for Americans, 42 Admin. L. Rev. 67 (1990); Bernard Schwartz, Wade’s Seventh Edition and Recent English Administrative Law, 48 Admin. L. Rev. 175 (1996).

It is hard to escape the conclusion, though, that this sort of work is quite limited in nature. For one thing, it is marginalized in the debate, not really being cited, or studied, by domestic U.S. scholars, courts, or other practitioners (partly because some of it isn’t focused on what is still, for better or worse, the heartland of our field—the issue of judicial review of administrative action35For instance, Peter L. Lindseth’s illuminating work, see sources cited supra note 31, has been mostly historical and theoretical and did not directly engage for the most part with the doctrinal structure of judicial review of administrative action. —and partly because it is usually published in outlets that unfortunately don’t attract a lot of domestic American administrative law readership, like edited essay collections or specialty international and foreign law reviews).36See, e.g., Kevin M. Stack, Overcoming Dicey in Administrative Law, 68 U. Toronto L.J. 293, 293 (2018), and Professors Asimow and Bignami’s important work cited supra notes 32–33. For another thing, some of the comparative administrative law work that does exist today in the U.S., while certainly illuminating and sophisticated, is somewhat one-sided and monological. It is about what others can learn from us, not what we might learn from others.37Susan Rose-Ackerman’s work, for example, has focused on the need for other systems to take more seriously the commitment, evident in the U.S., for relatively broad public participation in the formulation of general policies. See, e.g., Susan Rose-Ackerman, Democracy and Executive Power: Administrative Policymaking in Comparative Perspective, 6 Rev. de Derecho Público: Teoría y Método 155, 157 (2022). Only occasionally has she commented on notions that may enhance and improve the American administrative state in particular. See also infra note 157 and accompanying text.

In addition, despite the general neglect, we do occasionally see some form of administrative law comparison in quite prominent places. Consider in this context Justice Gorsuch’s dramatic dissent from denial of cert. in Buffington v. McDonough from the October 2022 Term.38Buffington v. McDonough, 143 S. Ct. 14, 14–22 (2022) (Gorsuch, J., dissenting). Buffington raised the question of whether the famous Chevron decision39Chevron U.S.A., Inc. v. NRDC, Inc., 467 U.S. 837 (1984). —well-known for granting deference to administrative agencies’ reasonable interpretations of statutes—should be overruled. In chastising his colleagues for not taking up that question in Buffington (we’ll see in a moment there’s been an important development on that front), Justice Gorsuch casually highlighted the fact that courts in other countries have “declined to adopt the [Chevron] doctrine” as another reason for why the Court was too quick to shut its ears.40Buffington, 143 S. Ct. at 22 (Gorsuch, J., dissenting). That was undoubtedly a moment of important recognition of the possibility of comparative administrative law in the U.S. reports. But Justice Gorsuch’s casual comparativism in Buffington, though superficially true, was the kind of thing that serious comparativists would quickly reject. With vigor. It suffers from exactly the kinds of failures that comparative law scholars have consistently emphasized would be the hazards of their craft—including by being acontextual and selective. In fact, Justice Gorsuch’s shallow comparativism may not be merely irresponsible; it might also be what some comparativists would call “abusive”—that is, it was done in the service of gradually undermining what our constitutionally legitimate administrative state seems at present to require.41Rosalind Dixon & David Landau, Abusive Constitutional Borrowing: Legal Globalization and the Subversion of Liberal Democracy 3 (2021).

This Article argues that all this needs to urgently change. We need to stop being so parochial and self-obsessed only with our own administrative law. We need to revive our interest in and engagement with comparative administrative law.42I note that this Article does not address another parochialism in our administrative law—the one which manifests itself in the neglect of state and local administrative law in favor of exclusive or highly hegemonic focus on federal administrative law. While this is clearly an important blind spot, it is still worth noting that this particular parochialism is now much more systematically addressed, or at least is beginning to be addressed, in both administrative law scholarship and practice. See generally Jim Rossi, Overcoming Parochialism: State Administrative Procedure and Institutional Design, 53 Admin. L. Rev. 551 (2001); Nestor M. Davidson, Localist Administrative Law, 126 Yale L.J. 564 (2017); Maria Ponomarenko, Substance and Procedure in Local Administrative Law, 170 U. Pa. L. Rev. 1527 (2022); Miriam Seifter, Gubernatorial Administration, 131 Harv. L. Rev. 483 (2017). By contrast, the global and comparative parochialisms that are emphatically the focus of this Article have not yet seen similar rekindling in interest (a reality which of course this Article seeks to correct). This means that domestic administrative law scholars should demonstrate more interest and reflect more frequently about foreign practice and law in the areas that they study and write about. And this means too that judges, litigators, and policymakers in the U.S. should not be so reluctant to use comparative administrative law and draw on it as well. To be clear—my claim is decidedly not that comparative administrative law should become methodologically hegemonic or that we should massively start to engage it at the expense of all other things. There are good reasons to focus primarily on domestic developments and perspectives and draw on diverse methodologies. Sensible comparativists accept, even if grudgingly, that they are destined in some important sense to be marginalized.43For an example of this recognition of comparativists’ marginalized fate, by a leading modern comparativist (now deceased), see Basil Markesinis, Comparative Law in the Courtroom and Classroom: The Story of the Last Thirty-Five Years 1–2 (2003). At the same time, the present neglect is extremely out of whack with the substantial benefits of comparative administrative law. Some meaningful amplification of the place of comparative administrative law in our system is quite clearly justified.

The present moment seems opportune for the domestic administrative law world to extend an invitation once again to comparativists to come and play a bit more outside their usually secluded purviews, and to go more comparative itself. This is so for three primary reasons. First, after years in which the field of administrative law has been perceived as one whose particularities erect substantial barriers from performing responsible cross-national comparison that generates real insights, things are now beginning to change. More and more scholarship that compares national administrative states and laws is now appearing—updating the work of previous generations as well as complicating it.44See infra Section II.B.3. The overall impression from this scholarship is that in light of processes of globalization and, as we will soon see, the fading away of some important divergences between national administrative systems, the “possibilities”45I draw this term from Tushnet, supra note 20, at 1228. of comparative administrative law are now finally evident and growing, like they have been for a while now in the adjacent field of comparative constitutional law. It is time for the domestic administrative law community in the U.S. to realize that changed global reality and start tapping into it as well.

A second reason for why we need to go more comparative now is that it is hard to dispute that our own administrative law is under severe pressure today, especially from our Supreme Court. As is well known and widely discussed, the Court has recently introduced many dramatic changes into administrative law, substantially breaking away from—if not directly attacking—the “equilibrium”46I draw this term in this particular context from Adrian Vermeule, Portrait of an Equilibrium, New Rambler, https://newramblerreview.com/book-reviews/law/tocqueville-s-nightmare [https://perma.cc/GS4L-GFMG]. that existed before.47See, e.g., Lucia v. SEC, 138 S. Ct. 2044, 2052–55 (2018) (holding that administrative law judges are inferior officers of the U.S., rather than mere employees, when vested with authority to oversee enforcement proceedings); Seila Law LLC v. CFPB, 140 S. Ct. 2183, 2197 (2020) (holding that Congress could not make single-member agency heads removable only for cause); United States v. Arthrex, Inc., 141 S. Ct. 1970, 1985 (2021) (holding that administrative patent judges were principal officers of the United States); Collins v. Yellen, 141 S. Ct. 1761, 1784 (2021) (holding that any restriction on presidential removal is unconstitutional for single-headed agencies); West Virginia v. EPA, 142 S. Ct. 2587, 2607–10, 2614–16 (2022) (announcing a broad “major questions” doctrine). But because a key virtue of comparative administrative law is exactly that it helps produce a better understanding of our own domestic predicament in the United States, comparison could be an important resource for facing the contemporary malaise. With comparative law’s aid we might, for example, see more clearly which components of our administrative law really emerge from our own unique situation in the U.S., and therefore why attacking these components of present-day law could be especially misguided and abusive. Alternatively, looking at the way other systems balance the conflicting goals underlying administrative law might assist us in recognizing paths for administrative law reform that we did not think of before, or that we were so far too hesitant to embrace. Such reforms might even respond to genuine failures that exist in our own contemporary administrative law. Accordingly, they might help take some of the edge from the present attack, and even build in the direction of an attractive resolution.

A final reason for why the exploration of the values of comparative administrative law is timely is that the Court itself may be dramatically heading for a second round of comparative administrative law. Though in Buffington, the Court refused to grant cert. on the question of Chevron’s continued validity, the Court appears to have had a change of heart. Indeed, in two different cases that came to the Court later, Loper Bright Enterprises v. Raimondo and Relentless, Inc. v. Department of Commerce, the Court did end up taking up that exact same question.48Loper Bright Enters., Inc. v. Raimondo, 45 F.4th 359 (D.C. Cir. 2022), cert. granted, 143 S. Ct. 2429 (2023); Relentless, Inc. v. U.S. Dep’t of Com., 62 F.4th 621 (1st Cir. 2023), cert. granted, 144 S. Ct. 325 (2023). And the world of administrative law stands still with anticipation.

Of course, the Court’s analysis in Loper Bright and Relentless—expected any day now (!)—will focus mostly on domestic perspectives, as it emphatically should. But given Justice Gorsuch’s dissent in Buffington, it is not unlikely that the Court might itself be interested in looking abroad again. If so, the current moment is an important opportunity first and foremost to correct the record on Buffington’s failures of shallow, selective, and even abusive comparison. To show, in other words, what a responsible comparative exercise can in fact teach us about Chevron’s continued validity and how it might illuminate the Court’s forthcoming analysis in Loper Bright and Relentless (or, if not in these cases, then beyond them). Additionally, this dramatic moment of a possible second round at the Court provides an opportunity to try to develop a more constructive approach to administrative law comparison in general. This kind of general approach to comparative administrative law could not only systematically avoid Buffington’s failures in the future but would also clear the path (and even actively support) the desired revival of comparative administrative law.

The remainder of this Article proceeds in four parts. Part I begins by sketching the rise and fall of comparative administrative law in the U.S. through the years and explores the reasons for its contemporary demise. Part II then slowly builds the affirmative case for the comparative administrative law revival. It emphasizes the increased possibilities of such comparison today relative to the past; it highlights comparativism’s substantial benefits in enhancing understanding of domestic administrative law systems and in providing a source of inspiration for useful reforms (particularly in times of administrative and democratic distress); and, finally, it identifies what I will call a “modest and experimentalist” approach to administrative law comparison that should enable amplifying comparativism’s place while minimizing risks of “misuse”49O. Kahn-Freund, On Uses and Misuses of Comparative Law, 37 Mod. L. Rev. 1, 20 (1974) (a by-now canonical elaboration of the values and risks of comparative law); Cheryl Saunders, The Use and Misuse of Comparative Constitutional Law, 13 Ind. J. Glob. Legal Stud. 37, 41 (2006) (an extension of Kahn-Freund’s argument to the specific context of constitutional law and constitutional adjudication). and abuse. To illustrate the approach this Article defends, Part III follows by zooming in on two doctrinal domains within our administrative law that seem ripe for comparative engagement, both in general and especially given the current pressures on the American administrative state.

The first domain Part III zooms in on is that of the law governing the use of guidance—that is, those documents that agencies regularly issue that lack the force of law and are thus exempt from notice-and-comment proceedings.50See infra Section III.A. As it currently stands, our law has landed on a particular path for “domesticating”51I draw this term from Peter L. Strauss, Domesticating Guidance, 49 Env’t L. 765, 765 (2019). the risks of abusing administrative guidance, namely by empowering courts to invalidate guidance that is “practically binding”52See, e.g., Cass R. Sunstein, “Practically Binding”: General Policy Statements and Notice-and-Comment Rulemaking, 68 Admin. L. Rev. 491, 496–97 (2016). and requiring that it goes through notice-and-comment. As we will later see, though, other jurisdictions, including primarily the United Kingdom, but also France, Italy, Canada, and the European Union, adopt a quite different approach to guidance domestication. That approach mostly denies courts the power to police the line between guidance that lacks the force of law and rules that do, for example because the guidance “practically binds.” Instead, this comparative approach focuses courts on a contextual review, on a pre-enforcement basis, of both the legality and arbitrariness of sufficiently important guidance documents. I will suggest that a modest and experimentalist approach to administrative law comparison provokes the possibility of moving our law in a direction closer to what we see abroad.

The second domain Part III zooms in on is, of course, Chevron deference. As Justice Gorsuch was right to say in Buffington, it is hard to see Chevron or something exactly like it abroad.53See infra Section III.B. But contrary to what Justice Gorsuch suggested in Buffington, that comparison doesn’t support overruling Chevron or dramatically cutting it back. A modest and experimentalist comparative administrative law approach that looks to countries as diverse as the United Kingdom, Germany, France, Israel, Australia, and Canada (among others) makes that conclusion at present extremely hazardous, even untenable and indeed abusive. As Part III argues, there are too many crucial cross-national differences that Justice Gorsuch’s opinion has ignored, differences which help to both explain and justify why other systems lack Chevron and why we have had it thus far.

Having said that, Part III also suggests that the kind of modest and experimentalist comparative administrative law approach this Article defends can certainly provoke us toward imagining a future where seriously considering letting go of Chevron and displacing it with something else that exists abroad (specifically, the deference regime that was recently consolidated in our neighbor jurisdiction, Canada) would indeed be desirable. As will be clear soon enough, the legal and political conditions that would make this Chevron-free future workable contrast starkly with the notions underlying the present judicial attack, including by the Supreme Court, on Chevron and on our administrative state more broadly. They would require quite a bit of transformation in American constitutional politics and legal culture. As a result, this potentially desirable, Chevron-less future is likely not realizable in the immediate term. That doesn’t mean, however, that we shouldn’t start working toward bringing that future closer. Comparative law itself suggests we can and should, so long as we do so modestly and experimentally, as I suggest here, rather than shallowly and abusively, as Justice Gorsuch’s opinion in Buffington has attempted.

Part IV concludes the Article by pointing toward several institutional strategies that could help bring forth the desired rebirth of comparative administrative law. These strategies look to the law school curriculum and to some important scholarly, judicial, governmental, and bar practices. The aim is to show that change is within our grasp if we would only choose to pursue it.

I.  THE RISE AND FALL OF COMPARATIVE ADMINISTRATIVE LAW

This Part sketches the story of the rise and fall of comparative administrative law in America through the years. My purpose here is first and foremost to show just how much it used to be prevalent in the past and how much it is neglected and marginalized today. In addition, this Part’s goal is also to speculate about what may have been the primary causes of the demise of comparative administrative law. After all, any attempt at its revival will have to confront these reasons to see if they still hold today.

Section I.A begins with the rise. Section I.B continues to the fall. Section I.C concludes with explanations.

A.  At the Start: An Era of Persistent Comparison

We have largely forgotten this, but the truth is that modern administrative law began in our system very much as a “self-conscious exercise” in comparative law.54John K.M. Ohnesorge, Western Administrative Law in Northeast Asia: A Comparativist’s History 54 (June 2002) (S.J.D. dissertation, Harvard Law School), https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3483842 [https://perma.cc/HPN9-UDT2]. Frank Goodnow’s 1893 book Comparative Administrative Law, mentioned before and which was the first to even coin the term “administrative law” in America, is Exhibit A.55See Goodnow, supra note 12, at 6–7. The title (and subtitle) of the book basically shouts it, but its content also doesn’t fail to deliver on the comparative promise. Indeed, the book contains an exhaustive discussion of the different ways that France, Germany, the United Kingdom, and the United States organize their respective central56Id. at 53–160. and local57Id. at 162–337. administrations, the law applicable to official appointments in each country,582 Frank J. Goodnow, Comparative Administrative Law 1–104 (1893). and the various systems of control of administration—whether political59Id. at 262–308. or judicial.60Id. at 144–261.

But Goodnow, a Professor of Political Science at Columbia and later the President of Johns Hopkins University, persisted with administrative law comparisons much beyond this initial and influential book and throughout his illustrious career. In many ways, comparative law was his central scholarly methodology. For example, Goodnow’s extensive use of comparative law and practice was also evident in Politics and Administration (1900). In this pioneering book, still considered a staple in the field of public administration,61See, e.g., Ronald J. Pestritto, The Progressive Origins of the Administrative State: Wilson, Goodnow, and Landis, 24 Soc. Phil. & Pol’y 16, 17 (2007). Goodnow built extensively on practices in Germany, France, Italy, and the United Kingdom to suggest reforms to the organization of the growing administrative state in America. As he repeatedly emphasized throughout the book, despite the existence of apparent differences between these countries, they nonetheless share common goals, a fact that Goodnow believed opened the door for learning mutual cross-national administrative lessons.62Frank J. Goodnow, Politics and Administration: A Study in Government 138–145 (1900) (discussing the potential explanations for why bureaucratic centralization has occurred across European countries more easily than in the United States and arguing that there is good reason that American reality should change to become closer to what is seen abroad). Goodnow continued to draw on comparison also in Social Reform and the Constitution,63Frank J. Goodnow, Social Reform and the Constitution (1911). which resulted from a series of lectures he gave in 1911. Among other things, Goodnow compared in this book decisions of the U.S. Supreme Court that recognized the legality of broad delegations to agencies to those of courts in the U.K. and Germany.64Among the decisions Goodnow discussed are Boske v. Comingore, 177 U.S. 459 (1900); In re Kollock, 165 U.S. 526 (1897); and Buttfield v. Stranahan, 192 U.S. 470 (1904). And he lauded the Court for “bringing our law into accord with that of foreign countries, where such ordinance powers have for a long time been regarded as a necessary adjunct of executive or administrative authority.”65Goodnow, supra note 63, at 218. Even when Goodnow bracketed his overt comparativism, its influence was substantial. His book, The Principles of the Administrative Law of the United States, while making no explicit reference to comparative law,66A point that was highlighted in reviews of the book, perhaps because it was somewhat surprising given the balance of Goodnow’s previous consistently comparative work. See Ernst Freund, Book Review, 1 Am. Pol. Sci. Rev. 136, 136 (1906) (reviewing Frank J. Goodnow, The Principles of the Administrative Law of the United States (1905)). was organized entirely based on a similar book by a noted German administrative law scholar whose work was intimately familiar to Goodnow.67See Frank J. Goodnow, The Principles of Administrative Law of the United States 373 n.1 (1905) (citing Rudolph Gneist, Das Englische Verwaltungrescht (1884)).

Another important figure at the birth of modern administrative law was Ernst Freund. Like Goodnow’s 1893 book, Freund’s 1894 essay, The Law of the Administration in America, is still considered key for the emergence of the field of modern administrative law.68See Ernst Freund, The Law of the Administration in America, 9 Pol. Sci. Q. 403, 404 (1894). And just like Goodnow, Freund’s method of making sense of administrative law was centrally comparative. Indeed, Freund, who had been teaching at the University of Chicago Law School since 1904, published in 1911 what was the first American casebook in administrative law. The title of the casebook gave no illusions about its pedagogical methodology: it was Cases on Administrative Law Selected from Decisions of English and American Courts.69Ernst Freund, Cases on Administrative Law Selected from Decisions of English and American Courts i (James Brown Scott ed., 1911). But Freund’s most notable and extensive foray into comparative administrative law was probably in his 1928 book, Administrative Power Over Persons and Property: A Comparative Survey. This book described in painstaking detail (which also was in large part what made the book “virtually unreadable”)70Daniel R. Ernst, Ernst Freund, Felix Frankfurter, and the American Rechtsstaat: A Transatlantic Shipwreck, 1894-1932, 23 Stud. Am. Pol. Dev. 171, 173 (2009). the different court systems in Germany and the U.K., the various theories that stood behind these countries’ laws on governmental liability as well as supervision of the legality of agency action, and the remedial powers of courts. And it encapsulated Freund’s central view that American administrative law was increasingly showing signs of resemblance to, surprisingly perhaps, German administrative law, mainly given what Freund argued was America’s adoption of the technique of legislative specificity and refinement as the primary method for constraining administrative discretion.71See id. at 183 (arguing that the message of Freund’s book was that “Americans had embraced the Rechtsstaat”); see also John Dickinson, Book Review, 22 Am. Pol. Sci. Rev. 981, 984 (1928) (reviewing Ernst Freund, Administrative Powers Over Persons and Property: A Comparative Survey (1928)) (emphasizing how Freund saw developments in domestic U.S. public law as putting the American approach in close proximity to continental approaches to administrative law).

Goodnow and Freund are justly considered the “pioneer[s]” of the field of modern administrative law in America.72Felix Frankfurter, The Task of Administrative Law, 75 U. Pa. L. Rev. 614, 616 (1927). But other scholars working roughly at the same time also followed in their footsteps in drawing consistently on comparative administrative law.73I note that another important administrative law scholar working at the time of Goodnow and Freund was Bruce Wyman. But while Wyman’s work has proven influential until this very day, his comparative interest appears to have been much less systematic when compared to Goodnow and Freund, as well as to the work of the other authors discussed in the rest of this present paragraph. On Wyman’s contemporary administrative law influence, see, e.g., Kevin M. Stack, Reclaiming ‘The Real Subject’ of Administrative Law: A Critical Introduction to Bruce Wyman’s The Principles of Administrative Law Governing the Relations of Public Officers (1903) IV–VI (Vanderbilt Univ. L. Sch. Pub. L. & Legal Theory, Working Paper No. 15-13, 2014), https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=2613561 [https://perma.cc/3KE8-GUFR]; and for one of Wyman’s relatively few comparative references in his own work, see Bruce Wyman, The Principles of the Administrative Law Governing the Relations of Public Officers 2 (1903) (stating that in “England and in the countries which like the United States derive their civilization from English sources, the system of administrative law and the very principles upon which it rests are in truth unknown” and noting that it is “remarkable that administrative law has not been conceived of as a department of our public law when it is part of the legal system of every country of continental Europe.”). Edmund Parker, a lecturer at Harvard University, wrote a noted piece at the time advocating a system of administrative courts in the U.S. based on France and using French law to strongly argue for reforms of the U.S. doctrine of sovereign immunity.74See Edmund M. Parker, Administrative Courts for the United States, 6 Proc. Am. Pol. Sci. Ass’n 46, 52 (1909). James Garner, a political scientist at the University of Pennsylvania, published a series of articles, including in the Yale Law Journal and the N.Y.U. Law Review, on German and French administrative law.75See generally James W. Garner, Judicial Control of Administrative and Legislative Acts in France, 9 Am. Pol. Sci. Rev. 637 (1915); James W. Garner, French Administrative Law, 33 Yale L.J. 597 (1924); James W. Garner, Anglo-American and Continental European Administrative Law, 7 N.Y.U. L.Q. Rev. 387 (1929). And in 1913, Stephen Foster wrote a piece in the Illinois Law Review with extensive reference to the practice of legislative delegation in the U.K.76See Stephen A. Foster, The Delegation of Legislative Power to Administrative Officers, 7 Ill. L. Rev. 397, 399–402 (1913). The openness of the slowly growing field of administrative law to comparative influence and transnational dialogue was furthermore evident in the fact that in 1914, Leon Duguit, one of France’s leading administrative law theorists, was invited to write a “glowing account” of the French administrative court system in one of the leading American political science journals.77Ohnesorge, supra note 54, at 60. See generally Leon Duguit, The French Administrative Courts, 29 Pol. Sci. Q. 385 (1914). After this, Duguit’s work also appeared in highly regarded law journals in the U.S. See generally, e.g., Leon Duguit, Collective Acts as Distinguished from Contracts, 27 Yale L.J. 753 (1917); Leon Duguit, The Concept of Public Service, 32 Yale L.J. 425 (1923); Leon Duguit, Objective Law, 20 Colum. L. Rev. 817 (1920); Leon Duguit, Compensation for Losses of War, 13 Ill. L. Rev. 565 (1919).

Administrative law comparison continued well into the New Deal era. Sidney Jacoby, a fellow at Columbia University and later a Professor at Georgetown University wrote an influential article published in the Columbia Law Review in 1936 discussing, partly in response to the Supreme Court’s dramatic decisions in Panama Refining78Pan. Refin. Co. v. Ryan, 293 U.S. 388 (1935). and Schechter Poultry,79A.L.A. Schechter Poultry Corp. v. United States, 295 U.S. 495 (1935). the practice of delegations to the executive in France, the U.K., Germany, Italy, and Switzerland (among others).80See Sidney B. Jacoby, Delegation of Powers and Judicial Review: A Study in Comparative Law, 36 Colum. L. Rev. 871, 871–76 (1936). In 1938, the University of Chicago Law Review also reprinted a lecture given by Karl Loewenstein, then a Professor and later the Head of Political Science at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst, extensively discussing delegation from a comparative perspective in large part to criticize the Court’s decisions in Panama Refining and Schechter Poultry.81See Karl Loewenstein, The Balance Between Legislative and Executive Power: A Study in Comparative Constitutional Law, 5 U. Chi. L. Rev. 566, 569 (1938). Stefan Riesenfeld, soon to be a Professor at the University of Minnesota and later at Berkeley, wrote a series of three articles in 1938, published in the Boston University Law Review, in which he discussed—like Garner and Duguit before him—the potential suitability of the French system of administrative law for the U.S.82See Stefan Riesenfeld, The French System of Administrative Justice: A Model for American Law?, 18 B.U. L. Rev. 48, 48 (1938); Stefan Riesenfeld, The French System of Administrative Justice: A Model for American Law? (Part II), 18 B.U. L. Rev. 400, 412 (1938); Stefan Riesenfeld, The French System of Administrative Justice: A Model for American Law? (Part III), 18 B.U. L. Rev. 715, 745 (1938). Fritz Morstein Marx, then Professor of Government at Harvard, similarly wrote a series of articles published mostly in the University of Pennsylvania Law Review titled Comparative Administrative Law on various themes in administrative law, referring mostly to France and Germany (though occasionally also to English and Italian administrative law) and suggesting points of useful borrowing.83See generally Fritz Morstein Marx, Comparative Administrative Law: A Note on Review of Discretion, 87 U. Pa. L. Rev. 954 (1939); Fritz Morstein Marx, Comparative Administrative Law: Economic Improvisation by Public Authorities, 88 U. Pa. L. Rev. 425 (1940); Fritz Morstein Marx, Comparative Administrative Law: Public Employer-Employee Relationships, 4 U. Det. L.J. 59 (1941); Fritz Morstein Marx, Comparative Administrative Law: Exercise of Police Power, 90 U. Pa. L. Rev. 266 (1942). And in 1942, C. Sumner Lobingier, a former judge and SEC commissioner, and later a long time faculty member at George Washington University, published in the University of Pennsylvania Law Review a study on French administrative law and how it might prove “instructive” for the U.S.84See C. Sumner Lobingier, Administrative Law and Droit Administratif: A Comparative Study with an Instructive Model, 91 U. Pa. L. Rev. 36, 37 (1942).

But of course, a central figure in the rapidly emerging field of administrative law during the New Deal was undoubtedly Felix Frankfurter, then at Harvard and later an Associate Justice of the Supreme Court. Contrary to Goodnow, Freund, and many of the other scholars previously mentioned (like Garner, Riesenfeld, and Marx), Frankfurter adamantly rejected continental approaches to administrative law originating from France and Germany as suitable for the American system. However, his interest in administrative law of the “English-speaking” world—including “Great Britain, Canada, Australia, South Africa, [and] the Irish Free State” —was substantial and persistent.85Felix Frankfurter & J. Forrester Davison, Cases and Other Materials on Administrative Law vii (1932). Frankfurter talked, for instance, in a famous article from 1927 about the existence of a shared “Anglo-American legal order” that, he argued, can appropriately guide administrative law at the time and into the future.86Frankfurter, supra note 72, at 614. Indeed, he spoke in praise—even reverence—of the English bureaucracy, which he described as “a highly trained and disinterested permanent service, charged with the task of administering the broad policies formulated by Parliament and of putting at the disposal of government that ascertainable body of knowledge on which the choice of policies must be based.”87Felix Frankfurter, The Public and Its Government 145 (1930). And in his own influential case book on administrative law, coauthored with James Davison, he moreover highlighted how “comparative study of [the English-speaking] systems of public law [could] yield[] very practical as well as cultural illumination.”88Frankfurter & Davison, supra note 85, at vii.

Frankfurter expressed his comparative administrative law interest in various ways that went well beyond his own primary scholarship. For example, Frankfurter authored an opening piece for a comparative administrative law symposium in the Iowa Law Review in 1933 that, as he described it, “focuses attention upon problems that will increasingly demand thought in action—how to make government effective and yet retain our noble prejudice in favor of liberty and our belief that reason may be domesticated.”89Felix Frankfurter, A Symposium on Administrative Law Based Upon Legal Writings 1931–33: Introduction, 18 Iowa L. Rev. 129, 132 (1933). That symposium opened with an article on French administrative law,90See generally Edwin M. Borchard, French Administrative Law, 18 Iowa L. Rev. 133 (1933). an article on German administrative law,91See generally A.H. Feller, Tendencies in Recent German Administrative Law Writing, 18 Iowa L. Rev. 144 (1933). and, perhaps reflecting Frankfurter’s own aversion to continental approaches and his emphatic embrace of the “Anglo-American” tradition,92Ralph F. Fuchs, Concepts and Policies in Anglo-American Administrative Law Theory, 47 Yale L.J. 538, 538 (1938). two articles on administrative law in the U.K.93See generally John Willis, The Delegation of Legislative and Judicial Powers to Administrative Bodies: A Study of the Report of the Committee on Ministers’ Powers, 18 Iowa L. Rev. 150 (1933); Arthur Suzman, Administrative Law in England: A Study of the Report of the Committee on Ministers’ Powers, 18 Iowa L. Rev. 160 (1933). In addition, when the noted British public law scholar W. Ivor Jennings gave a paper on administrative law in the U.K. at Harvard, which was later published in the Harvard Law Review, Frankfurter wrote a glowing opening essay.94Felix Frankfurter, Foreword to W. Ivor Jennings, Courts and Administrative Law—The Experience of English Housing Legislation, 49 Harv. L. Rev. 426, 426–28 (1936). He acknowledged there that “when an important legal treatise is contained within the covers of an English Blue Book, it is not likely to secure vogue among American lawyers.”95Id. at 427. But Frankfurter insisted that “despite the great formal differences, many of the basic conceptions of the public law of England and of the United States are rooted in the same historic soil.”96Id. at 428. And he described Jennings’ survey of administrative law in the U.K. as “illuminating” and “of immediate concern to the student of American Administrative Law.”97Id. Finally, Frankfurter’s interest in comparison was also evident by the fact that at Harvard he was the doctoral supervisor of John Willis who wrote what was described as the “leading English response” to the critique of the administrative state across the pond.98See Jeremy K. Kessler, A War for Liberty: On the Law of Conscientious Objection, in 3 The Cambridge History of the Second World War 447, 457 (Michael Geyer & Adam Tooze eds., 2015) (citing John Willis, The Parliamentary Powers of English Government Departments (1933)). Willis’s comparative work also appeared in law reviews in the U.S. See generally, e.g., John Willis, Administrative Law and the British North America Act, 53 Harv. L. Rev. 251 (1939); Willis, supra note 93.

Though Frankfurter was central to the establishment of administrative law, he was again not the only central figure interested in comparative administrative law during this time. James Landis’s book The Administrative Process99See generally James M. Landis, The Administrative Process (1938). is discussed and mentioned in debates about the administrative state to this very day.100See, e.g., Adrian Vermeule, Bureaucracy and Distrust: Landis, Jaffe, and Kagan on the Administrative State, 130 Harv. L. Rev. 2463, 2466–72 (2017) (reconstructing Landis’s argument in detail). But what these discussions fail to mention is that the book is also chock-full of references to administrative law in the U.K. For instance, Landis referred in the book to “[o]ur British cousins” who, he said, were also dealing with similar questions of how to square the administrative state with their own respective constitutional framework.101Landis, supra note 99, at 1. He cited pronouncements by an English judge on the growth of the administrative state,102Id. at 18 (quoting 1 Hugh Macmillan, Local Government Law and Administration in England and Wales xi (1934)). and he referred to the push in England for some specialization in the judiciary (particularly in the conduct of administrative adjudications).103Id. at 32 (quoting 1 William Holdsworth, History of English Law ch. 3 (5th ed., 1931)). Most dramatically perhaps, Landis also argued for a potential borrowing of solutions from the U.K. to America in response to the legitimacy tensions that he believed broad delegation to administrative agencies create, noting that “English administrative law . . . [developed] techniques . . . which might be adapted to our needs.”104Id. at 77–79.

At the time, comparative administrative law lived mostly in the pages of scholarship and in the hallways of the academy. But it wasn’t entirely absent from legal practice as well. In fact, a famous decision by the U.K. House of Lords in a case called Local Government Board v. Arlidge105Loc. Gov’t Bd. v. Arlidge [1915] AC (HL) 120. proved influential to initial American practice of administrative agencies in conducting hearings. In Arlidge, the House of Lords ruled, in what was a major innovation at the time, that administrative agencies need not follow “judicialized” procedures when making adjudicative decisions.106Id. at 133. Agencies could rely, for example, on written testimonies and confidential information. And agency heads could delegate to their subordinates the power to conduct a hearing, review the materials, and issue initial recommendations. In other words, they need not “hear” themselves. Despite forceful criticism of the decision in America (including, most vocally perhaps, by Roscoe Pound),107See Roscoe Pound, The Growth of Administrative Justice, 2 Wis. L. Rev. 321, 323–24 (1924) (describing the Arlidge decision as “a startling decision in the cradle of our common law”). the idea of sub-delegation to subordinates to conduct hearings, which Arlidge blessed in the U.K., quickly penetrated here as well. As one case note from the time put it, “this same procedural method has been followed in many of our departments and upheld by the United States courts.”108Recent Case Notes, 14 Ind. L.J. 164, 164–65 (1938); see, e.g., State ex rel. Wis. Inspection Bureau v. Whitman, 220 N.W. 929, 938–40 (Wis. 1928); Gen. Broad. Sys., Inc. v. Bridgeport Broad. Station, Inc., 53 F.2d 664, 665–66 (D. Conn. 1931). It was also relied on by the Attorney General while arguing Morgan v. United States (also known as Morgan I) in the Supreme Court.109Morgan v. United States (Morgan I), 298 U.S. 468, 482 (1936). And while the Court in Morgan I explicitly distinguished Arlidge, suggesting that sub-delegation to subordinates to conduct hearings can occur only when the agency in question is a commission headed by multiple commissioners,110Id. the decision’s impact on American law continued.111For example, Arlidge was cited approvingly in NLRB v. Baldwin Locomotive Works, 128 F.2d 39, 64 n.96 (3d Cir. 1942). And Arlidge’s overtones were incorporated into scholarship on the conduct of hearings more broadly. See, e.g., Kenneth Culp Davis, The Requirement of Opportunity to Be Heard in the Administrative Process, 51 Yale L.J. 1093, 1128–29 n.140 (1942). But see Mazza v. Cavicchia, 105 A.2d 545, 557 (N.J. 1954) (reading Morgan I to suggest a much stronger rebuke of Arlidge’s message). Arlidge was continuously discussed, mostly approvingly, both in scholarship as well as in the legislative process leading to what came to be the APA.112See, e.g., Frankfurter, supra note 72, at 615; Max Thelen, Practice and Procedure Before Administrative Tribunals, 16 Calif. L. Rev. 208, 214–15 (1928); Arthur T. Vanderbilt, The Place of the Administrative Tribunal in Our Legal System, 24 A.B.A. J. 267, 267 (1938).

Since the passage of the APA in 1946, administrative law comparison “tailed off dramatically.”113Ohnesorge, supra note 54, at 63. Still, it was far from entirely gone. It continued to live, for example, in occasional publications in journals (even if now less prestigious ones and more geared toward domestic specialists).114See, e.g., Werner Feld, The German Administrative Courts, 36 Tul. L. Rev. 495, 499 (1962); Fred P. Bosselman, An Introduction to the Symposium on the Public Hearing, 21 Admin. L. Rev. 119, 119 (1969); Helen McCleave Cake, The French Conseil d’Etat—An Essay on Administrative Jurisprudence: The Jurisdiction and Philosophy of the French Court and the Desirability of Introducing Certain French Standards of Administrative Control in the United States, 24 Admin. L. Rev. 315, 320 (1972). And it was still meaningfully incorporated into the work of several prominent administrative law scholars though, admittedly, in a somewhat subtler form.

Louis Jaffe, obviously another key figure in modern administrative law whose name and work are still invoked to this very day,115See, e.g., Daniel B. Rodriguez, Jaffe’s Law: An Essay on the Intellectual Underpinnings of Modern Administrative Law Theory, 72 Chi.-Kent L. Rev. 1159, 1159 (1997). devoted “considerable energy to comparative research” even if he “tended to incorporate foreign law into his basic work, rather than reporting on foreign law, or writing self-consciously comparative exercises.”116Ohnesorge, supra note 54, at 66. For example, a year after the APA entered into force, Jaffe wrote an article echoing themes raised by Landis about the possibility of exporting techniques from the U.K. to solve the tensions underlying expansive delegation to agencies (and which could help achieve, he said, more “active control” for Congress over the administrative state).117Louis L. Jaffe, An Essay on Delegation of Legislative Power: I, 47 Colum. L. Rev. 359, 372–74 (1947). Jaffe also returned to the same issue in his famous treatise, Judicial Control of Administrative Action, which incorporated much of his earlier work.118Louis L. Jaffe, Judicial Control of Administrative Action 46–48 (1965). But Jaffe’s discussion of comparative law in his treatise went well beyond that specific theme. Indeed, foreign sources and comparative discussion were sprinkled all over it. Among other things, Jaffe made references to the phenomenon of Henry VIII clauses in the U.K.119Id. at 81 n.185. (which are similar to what is known in the U.S. as “big waiver”).120See David J. Barron & Todd D. Rakoff, In Defense of Big Waiver, 113 Colum. L. Rev. 265, 265 (2013); see also Daniel T. Deacon, Administrative Forbearance, 125 Yale L.J. 1548, 1551 (2016). It also had a substantial chunk on the history of judicial review in the U.K. and America,121See Jaffe, supra note 118, at 329–36. In this context, Jaffe was building on a co-authored work he had published with a scholar of the history of English administrative law. See Louis L. Jaffe & Edith G. Henderson, Judicial Review and the Rule of Law: Historical Origins, 72 L.Q. Rev. 345, 345 (1956). See generally Edith G. Henderson, Foundations of English Administrative Law: Certiorari and Mandamus in the Seventeenth Century (1963). a review of the law of “sovereign immunity” in the U.K.,122See Jaffe, supra note 118, at 197–212. a discussion of how courts in the U.K. review the subjective motives of administrative decisionmakers,123Id. at 352. a comparison between the law of unreviewability in American administrative law and so-called “privitive clauses” in the U.K.,124Id. at 357 n.170. and survey of the U.K. doctrine of “jurisdictional fact.”125Id. at 624–33. The book even contains some references to Canadian law about the scope of judicial review126Id. at 327 n.11 (quoting In re Workmen’s Compensation Act [1950] 2 D.L.R. 630). and a brief discussion of Italian, German, and French administrative law standing doctrines.127Id. at 477–80, 502–05 And Jaffe pursued his keen interest in comparative law also in a later book, English and American Judges as Lawmakers, which, as its title suggests, compared styles of judicial decision-making in the U.K. and the U.S., including, of course, in administrative law.128See generally Louis L. Jaffe, English and American Judges as Lawmakers (1969). Another important indication of Jaffe’s strong comparative awareness was that he reviewed the issuance of a new administrative law treatise in Australia. See generally Louis L. Jaffe, Book Review, 6 Syd. L. Rev. 148 (1968) (reviewing D.G. Benjafield & H. Whitmore, Principles of Australian Administrative Law (1968)).

Another influential name interested in administrative law comparison was Kenneth Culp Davis.129On Professor Davis’s contributions and enduring legacy, see, e.g., Ronald M. Levin, The Administrative Law Legacy of Kenneth Culp Davis, 42 San Diego L. Rev. 315, 315–17 (2005). In an important piece that preceded the APA, Davis advocated, for example, for experimentation with the use of written evidence in administrative hearings based on a similar English practice.130See Kenneth Culp Davis, An Approach to Problems of Evidence in the Administrative Process, 55 Harv. L. Rev. 364, 401–02 n.77 (1942). Davis also wrote an elaborate article showing deep knowledge of the U.K. system (including participating in exchange with scholars and visiting there) as well as extensive awareness of administrative law developments in French, German, and Swedish administrative law.131See Kenneth Culp Davis, The Future of Judge-Made Public Law in England: A Problem of Practical Jurisprudence, 61 Colum. L. Rev. 201, 201 (1961) [hereinafter Davis, A Problem]; see also Kenneth Culp Davis, English Administrative Law—An American View, in Public Law: Incorporating the British Journal of Administrative Law 139, 139 (J.A.G. Griffith & Geoffrey Marshall eds., 1962) [hereinafter Davis, An American View]; K.C. Davis, English Administrative Law: Another Word, in Public Law: Incorporating the British Journal of Administrative Law 1, 1 (J.A.G. Griffith & Geoffrey Marshall eds., 1963). Davis also wrote an early book review of a central English administrative law text. Kenneth Culp Davis, Book Review, 21 Tex. L. Rev. 216, 216 (1943) (reviewing Sir Cecil Carr, Concerning English Administrative Law (1941)). Everyone who’s in the know in the administrative law world has probably heard about Davis’s classic book, Discretionary Justice.132See generally Kenneth Culp Davis, Discretionary Justice: A Preliminary Inquiry (1969). But what isn’t usually remembered is that Davis followed up on that famous book by editing a volume of essays by legal academics from Europe exploring similar themes in their own domestic systems and offering comparative insights.133See generally Discretionary Justice in Europe and America (Kenneth Culp Davis ed., 1976). And what is even less remembered today is that Davis authored important work for the University of Pennsylvania Law Review on the institution of the ombudsman that was deeply inspired by comparative practice.134See Kenneth Culp Davis, Ombudsmen in America: Officers to Criticize Administrative Action, 109 U. Pa. L. Rev. 1057, 1057 (1961). His article was nestled within a more comparative context—it preceded two additional pieces published in the same volume on the ombudsmen offices in Sweden135See Stig Jägerskiöld, The Swedish Ombudsman, 109 U. Pa. L. Rev. 1077, 1077 (1961). and Denmark.136See Bent Christensen, The Danish Ombudsman, 109 U. Pa. L. Rev. 1100, 1100 (1961). That year, the Wisconsin Law Review even published an article by one of the Danish Ombudsmen himself. See Stephan Hurwitz, Denmark’s Ombudsmand: The Parliamentary Commissioner for Civil and Military Government Administration, 1961 Wis. L. Rev. 169, 169 (1961).

Finally, Walter Gellhorn, another important administrative law thinker of the post–New Deal era, was also engaged in serious comparative administrative law. His influential studies on tort liability for administrative decisionmakers were highly informed by “experience in some of the European states,” which was also regularly cited and discussed throughout his work (sometimes with co-authors).137Walter Gellhorn & C. Newton Schenck, Tort Actions Against the Federal Government, 47 Colum. L. Rev. 722, 738 (1947). Gellhorn also supported publications by foreign scholars on the same subject in the United States, including most prominently a study by Harry Street, a noted English scholar, which was published in the Michigan Law Review.138See Harry Street, Tort Liability of the State: The Federal Tort Claims Act and the Crown Proceedings Act, 47 Mich. L. Rev. 341, 341 (1949). At the time, two other leading English scholars also wrote important works that were published in American journals, further signifying the interest and open-ness of American audiences to foreign administrative law, at least if within the “Anglo-American tradition.” See generally Stanley de Smith, Delegated Legislation in England, 2 Western Pol. Q. 514 (1949); J.A.G. Griffith, The Constitutional Significance of Delegated Legislation in England, 48 Mich. L. Rev. 1079 (1950). And later in his career, Gellhorn, like Davis a few years before him, was also drawn to tackle the issue of administrative ombudsmen. He wrote an entire book on the subject based on an extensive study of no less than nine ombudsmen systems around the world (in Sweden, Norway, Finland, Denmark, New Zealand, Poland, the former Yugoslavia, and the U.S.S.R.).139See generally Walter Gellhorn, Ombudsmen and Others: Citizens’ Protectors in Nine Countries (1966). And, perhaps most surprisingly to contemporary readers, Gellhorn had also shown particular interest in Japanese administrative law140Walter Gellhorn, Settling Disagreements with Officials in Japan, 79 Harv. L. Rev. 685, 686 (1966). (and constitutional law).141See generally Walter Gellhorn, Comment on the Japanese Constitution (1959).

B.  Today: Decline

While Davis and Gellhorn’s separate studies on ombudsmen offices from the 1960s were strongly comparative, no one could seriously argue that their authors considered them central to domestic U.S. administrative law in the same way that earlier comparative work had been. And, indeed, by the time these studies were published, the decline of comparative administrative law in America was apparent. Most major contemporary scholars working since then were no longer in the business of incorporating foreign or comparative insights into their work, as Jaffe, Davis, and Gellhorn, for example, used to do.142See supra notes 115–41 and accompanying text. They were certainly not in the business of producing systematic studies that centered foreign law in relation to domestic U.S. administrative law as was done at the time of Goodnow and Freund.143See supra notes 54–71 and accompanying text. Even Jaffe, Davis, and Gellhorn appeared to have lost interest in comparison later in their careers. It was no longer, to draw on a previously cited term used by Felix Frankfurter, an “immediate concern” of theirs.144See Frankfurter, supra note 94, at 428.

Flagship law journals in America likewise lost interest in the publication of serious comparative administrative law scholarship as they regularly used to. Much of the very minimal present-day scholarship that does have a strong comparative administrative law hook, which is for the most part written by either established foreign scholars or graduate students who have arrived for academic training in the U.S., has migrated to outlets such as specialty comparative or international law journals.145See, e.g., Jack Beatson, Legislative Control of Administrative Rulemaking: Lessons from the British Experience?, 12 Cornell Int’l L.J. 199, 199 (1979); George A. Bermann, The Scope of Judicial Review in French Administrative Law, 16 Colum. J. Transnat’l L. 195, 195–98 (1977); Richard L. Herrmann, Procedural Due Process in Administrative Law: Some Thoughts from the French Experience, 1 U. Mich. J.L. Reform 45 (1968); Richard W. Parker & Alberto Alemanno, A Comparative Overview of EU and US Legislative and Regulatory Systems: Implications for Domestic Governance & the Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership, 22 Colum. J. Eur. L. 61, 61–62 (2015); Vincent Martenet, Judicial Deference to Administrative Interpretation of Statutes from a Comparative Perspective, 54 Vand. J. Transnat’l L. 83, 83 (2021); Maciej Bernatt, Transatlantic Perspective on Judicial Deference in Administrative Law, 22 Colum. J. Eur. L. 275, 275 (2016); Jacques deLisle & Neysun A. Mahboubi, Editor’s Note, 13 U. Pa. Asian L. Rev. (2018); Jacques deLisle & Neysun A. Mahboubi, Editor’s Note, 16 U. Pa. Asian L. Rev. 212, 212 (2021); He Haibo, How Much Progress Can Legislation Bring? The 2014 Amendment of the Administrative Litigation Law of PRC, 13 U. Pa. Asian L. Rev. 137, 137 (2018); Wang Jing, Judicial Review of Regulatory Documents in Administrative Litigation in China, 16 U. Pa. Asian L. Rev. 328, 355–58 (2021). These journals also occasionally published relevant work even prior to that time, mostly by foreign scholars. See, e.g., Barna Horvath, Rights of Man: Due Process of Law and Excès de Pouvoir, 4 Am. J. Compar. L. 539, 562 (1955); Hans G. Rupp, Judicial Review in the Federal Republic of Germany, 9 Am. J. Compar. L. 29, 39 (1960); Ernst K. Pakuscher, Administrative Law in Germany—Citizen v. State, 16 Am. J. Compar. L. 309, 309–10 (1968); Jean-Marie Auby, The Abuse of Power in French Administrative Law, 18 Am. J. Compar. L. 549, 560 (1970). And an inquiry into patterns of citations and references to foreign law across the federal bench also suggests significant signs of disappearance. Indeed, using the relevant databases it was impossible to find even one similar case pattern that resembled the discussion of the House of Lords’ Arlidge judgment in the years following the passage of the APA.146Indeed, I have searched through both Westlaw and LexisNexis for citations to “foreign,” “comparative,” “England,” the “United Kingdom,” “France,” “Germany,” the “European Union,” “Italy,” “Canada,” and “Australia” in any case that cites the APA and received zero relevant results. Attempts to mention the names of the judicial institutions in charge of administrative law in other countries—like the Conseil d’Etat in France or the House of Lords and later the English Supreme Court—have also yielded zero relevant results. Even a practice of “soft use”147For the distinction between “soft” and “hard” uses of foreign law, see Taavi Annus, Comparative Constitutional Reasoning: The Law and Strategy of Selecting the Right Arguments, 14 Duke J. Comp. & Int’l L. 301, 311–13 (2004). of foreign law in our administrative law by either courts or litigators seems to be nonexistent.148The only analog I was able to find is a reference in Justice Cardozo’s dissent in the famous case of Panama Refining Co. v. Ryan, 293 U.S. 388 (1935), to a similarly famous governmental report in England, known as the Donoughmore Committee Report, about U.K. administrative law. See id. at 441 (Cardozo, J., dissenting). It is not surprising, then, why one scholar concluded earlier that “[a] survey of American administrative law scholarship at the close of the twentieth century reveals a field in apparent national isolation.”149Ohnesorge, supra note 54, at 50. Since roughly the mid to end of the 1960s and early 1970s, comparative administrative law has become at most “fringe[].”150Id. at 69.

To be sure, as this description itself suggests, there are exceptions to this pattern. The fact that administrative law comparison transformed into something fringe doesn’t mean that it was entirely “dead, dead, dead.”151Mark Tushnet, Survey Article: Critical Legal Theory (without Modifiers) in the United States, 13 J. Pol. Phil. 99, 99 (2005). Cf. Robert C. Ellickson, Trends in Legal Scholarship: A Statistical Study, 29 J. Legal Stud. 517, 525 n.21 (2000) (referring to a statement by Duncan Kennedy made in 1996 about Critical Legal Studies). Some prominent and junior domestic administrative law (or, more broadly, public law) scholars did occasionally dabble in administrative law beyond our borders,152See, e.g., Charles H. Koch, Jr., “Some Kind of Hearing” in England, 23 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 219, 219 (1981); Frederick F. Shauer, English Natural Justice and American Due Process: An Analytical Comparison, 18 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 47, 47–48 (1976); Jack M. Beermann, The Reach of Administrative Law in the United States, in The Province of Administrative Law 171, 184 (Michael Taggart ed., 1997); Tom Ginsburg, Comparative Administrative Procedure: Evidence from Northeast Asia, 13 Const. Pol. Econ. 247, 247 (2002) [hereinafter Ginsburg, Comparative Administrative Procedure]; Tom Ginsburg, The Judicialization of Administrative Governance: Causes, Consequences and Limits, in Administrative Law and Governance in Asia: Comparative Perspectives 1, 1 (Tom Ginsburg & Albert H.Y. Chen eds., 2009); Alfred C. Aman, Jr., Politics, Policy and Outsourcing in the United States: The Role of Administrative Law, in Administrative Law in a Changing State: Essays in Honour of Mark Aronson 205, 210 (Linda Pearson et al. eds., 2008); Cary Coglianese, Administrative Law: The United States and Beyond, in 1 International Encyclopedia of Social & Behavioral Sciences 109, 110–11 (James D. Wright ed., 2d ed. 2015); Martin Shapiro, Codification of Administrative Law: The U.S. and the Union, 2 Eur. L.J. 26, 26 (1996); Martin Shapiro, Judicial Delegation Doctrines: The U.S., Britain, and France, in The Politics of Delegation 173, 173 (Mark Thatcher & Alec Stone Sweet eds., 2003); Jerry L. Mashaw, Reasoned Administration: The European Union, the United States, and the Project of Democratic Governance, 76 Geo. Wash. L. Rev. 99, 99–101 (2007); Pojanowski, supra note 9, at 859–60; Stack, supra note 36, at 294–297; Richard B. Stewart, Environmental Statutory Interpretation in China and the United States, 5 N.Y.U. Envt’l L.J. 556, 556 (1996); Peter L. Strauss, Rulemaking in the Ages of Globalization and Information: What America Can Learn from Europe, and Vice Versa, 12 Colum. J. Eur. L. 645, 645 (2006); Jud Mathews, Agency Discretion, Judicial Review, and “Proportionality” in U.S. Administrative Law, in The Judge and the Proportionate Use of Discretion: A Comparative Study 160, 160 (Sofia Ranchordás & Boudewijn de Waard eds., 2016); Anya Bernstein, Porous Bureaucracy: Legitimating the Administrative State in Taiwan, 45 L. & Soc. Inquiry 28, 28–30 (2020); Stephen Breyer, Judicial Review of Questions of Law and Policy, 38 Admin. L. Rev. 363, 363 (1986); Christopher F. Edley Jr., Administrative Law: Rethinking Judicial Control of Bureaucracy 240–45 (1990); Stephen Breyer, Breaking the Vicious Cycle: Toward Effective Risk Regulation 70–72 (1993); Edward L. Rubin, Discretion and Its Discontents, 72 Chi.-Kent L. Rev. 1299, 1299–1300 (1997); Kent Barnett & Lindsey Vinson, Chevron Abroad, 96 Notre Dame L. Rev. 621, 621 (2020); Nathaniel L. Nathanson & Yasuhiro Fujita, The Right to Fair Hearing in Japanese Administrative Law, 45 Wash. L. Rev. 273, 273–74 (1970); Gillian E. Metzger, Agency Inaction in U.S. Administrative Law, in Droit comparé de la procédure administrative 665, 665 (Thomas Perroud ed., 2014); Jeffrey Lubbers, Notice-and-Comment Rulemaking Comes to China, Admin. & Reg. L. News, Fall 2006, at 5, 5–6; Reeve T. Bull, Market Corrective Rulemaking: Drawing on EU Insights to Rationalize U.S. Regulation, 67 Admin. L. Rev. 629, 629–30 (2015); René Reyes, Nondelegation Doctrine in Comparative Context: Britain’s Great Repeal Bill and the Shadow of Henry VIII, 166 U. Pa. L. Rev. Online 71, 71–72 (2017). and even participated in and sponsored symposia with foreign scholars on key administrative law issues of the day.153See, e.g., Paul R. Verkuil, Crosscurrents in Anglo-American Administrative Law, 27 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 685, 685–86 (1986) (an essay in a broader Anglo-American symposium on administrative law); Thomas J. Schoenbaum, A Preface to Three Foreign Views of Vermont Yankee, 55 Tul. L. Rev. 428, 428–29 (1981) (same). In addition, as previously mentioned, there are some well-known contemporary U.S. scholars that do take a more frequent interest in administrative law comparison, especially Susan Rose-Ackerman at Yale, Peter Lindseth at the University of Connecticut, Francesca Bignami at George Washington, Michael Asimow at UCLA and Santa Clara, and, before his passing, Bernard Schwartz at NYU.154See supra notes 30–34 and accompanying text. I note that I mention Professor Bernard Schwartz on this particular list because, even though he passed away before scholars like Gellhorn and Davis did, in contrast to them Schwartz did consistently work on comparative administrative law throughout his career and all the way up until the end of the 1990s.

Still, it’s hard to escape the conclusion that these exceptions really do prove the rule. For one thing, the interest domestic scholars have expressed into what’s going on in administrative law outside American borders is quite minimal. Foreign law isn’t described in some of this work in great detail but is often addressed at an extremely high level of generality.155See, e.g., Breyer, supra note 152, at 70–71 (making very casual references to French administrative law); Edley, supra note 152, at 240–45 (same). For work that discusses foreign law at an extremely broad level of generality or that is somewhat frozen in time in its discussion of the state of foreign administrative law, see, e.g., Stack, supra note 36, at 297; Pojanowski, supra note 9, at 859–60; Cass R. Sunstein & Adrian Vermeule, The New Coke: On the Plural Aims of Administrative Law, 2015 Sup. Ct. Rev. 41, 41 (2015). Some of the work isn’t even fully comparative—more in the vein of single-jurisdiction or “areas studies.”156See, e.g., Bernstein, supra note 152, at 29–30 (study of administrative law and culture in Taiwan); Nathanson & Fujita, supra note 152, at 273 (study of administrative law and culture in Japan). A small portion of it also embraces only one (and, in my view, quite thin) tradition of comparison, namely—studies attempting to develop “general” theories of administrative law using stylized public choice or positive political theory tools.157For works in this tradition, see, e.g., Ginsburg, Comparative Administrative Procedure, supra note 152, at 247–48; J. Mark Ramseyer & Minoru Nakazato, Japanese Law: An Economic Approach 191–219 (1999); William Bishop, A Theory of Administrative Law, 19 J. Legal Stud. 489, 495 (1990); Nuno Garoupa & Jud Mathews, Strategic Delegation, Discretion, and Deference: Explaining the Comparative Law of Administrative Review, 62 Am. J. Comp. L. 1, 1 (2014). Furthermore, even those whose work is systematically comparative seem to be severely marginalized in contemporary debates and practice. These scholars work isn’t, for instance, seriously studied or cited by domestic scholars or courts. These scholars’ work, and comparative administrative law more generally, also doesn’t feature in today’s central administrative law case books or treatises used in law schools as comparative materials clearly did, for example, during the time of both Freund and Jaffe.158I note that state-level administrative law, which is, as mentioned before, another domain that is largely marginalized today in the field, further portraying our administrative law as parochial, see supra note 42, is extensively referenced in at least one leading case book. See Michael Asimow & Ronald M. Levin, State and Federal Administrative Law ix-xxi (5th ed. 2020). Finally, and as also mentioned before, some of the work by those who do engage in administrative law comparison today seems to be a kind of one-way street. It’s focused on what other systems might take away from looking at American administrative law,  not on what we in the U.S. might take from them.159As mentioned supra note 37, the work of Susan Rose-Ackerman is representative of the one-way street direction of some of the central contemporary works in comparative administrative law. See also Susan Rose-Ackerman, American Administrative Law Under Siege: Is Germany a Model?, 107 Harv. L. Rev. 1279, 1281 (1994) (asking if German administrative law can be borrowed in America and answering “no”). But it is by far not alone. Indeed, there are other examples of this one-way street phenomenon. For instance, Peter Strauss writes a survey book on U.S. administrative law primarily geared at foreign readers and which has been in continuous production. See Peter L. Strauss, Administrative Justice in the United States vii-xii (3d ed. 2016). In addition, administrative law scholars Ronald Levin and Jeff Lubbers’s well-known survey book on U.S. administrative law, geared for domestic U.S. audiences, has been translated to both Chinese, see Xingzhenfa He Xingzhen Chengxu Gaiyao (行政程序法精要) [Administrative Law and Process in a Nutshell] (Huang Lie (苏苗罕) trans., 1996)), and Japanese, see Gendai Amerika Gyōsei Hō (Keikichi Ohama & Takayoshi Tsuneoka trans., 1996)). Lubbers’s other work on American administrative law has been similarly translated for non-U.S. consumption. For example, his book A Guide to Federal Agency Rulemaking (5th ed., 2012) has been published in Chinese, see Meiguo Guizhang Zhiding Daolun (美国规章制定导论) (Jiang Pengtao trans., 2016) and an article of his has been published in Japanese in a leading Japanese legal journal. See Jeffrey S. Lubbers, Administrative Enforcement in the United States, 72 J.L. & Pol. 445 (2021). By contrast, there is, to the best of my knowledge, no similar case book or survey book that comes out regularly on any foreign jurisdiction’s administrative law and is meant for American audiences (like Strauss’s book on U.S. law is meant to be). Foreign administrative law materials are also never translated to English for consumption by U.S. audiences like Lubbers and Levin’s work has been translated for non-U.S. audiences. The only exception to this pattern that I am familiar with is perhaps Donald Kommers and Russell Miller’s book on the jurisprudence of the Federal Constitutional Court in Germany, which only indirectly discusses some issues of relevance to administrative law. See generally Donald P. Kommers & Russell A. Miller, The Constitutional Jurisprudence of the Federal Republic of Germany (3d ed. 2012). As this description suggests, though, this exception is obviously a very limited one. But that’s not real comparative law work. It’s more like preaching.

The contemporary marginalization of comparative administrative law becomes even clearer when one compares the current state of this field not just to its past, but also to what’s been going on in the adjacent field of constitutional law. In that field, cross-national comparison features much more broadly. There are more active constitutional law scholars in the U.S. who engage comparison systematically.160A partial list of scholars who consistently address comparative constitutional law includes: Tom Ginsburg, Mark Tushnet, Vicki Jackson, Sam Issacharoff, Mark Graber, Asli Bali, Madhav Khosla, Stephen Gardbaum, David Landau, Gary Jacobsohn, Frank Michelman, Jamal Greene, and Mila Versteeg. Some of these have also made independent contributions to domestic U.S. constitutional law (for example, Jackson, Tushnet, Greene, Graber, and Issacharoff) while others work more distinctively in the comparative constitutional law space (for example, Versteeg, Gardbaum, Bali, Ginsburg, and Khosla). Scholarship that draws on foreign systems’ constitutional arrangements to make sense of our own and propose reforms (sometimes quite radical) also appear prominently from time to time in major publication outlets.161For some of the most recent entries, see, e.g., Vicki C. Jackson, Constitutional Law in an Age of Proportionality, 124 Yale L.J. 3094, 3094 (2015); Jamal Greene, The Supreme Court 2017 Term—Foreword: Rights as Trumps?, 132 Harv. L. Rev. 28, 30–38 (2018); Madhav Khosla, Is a Science of Comparative Constitutional Law Possible?, 135 Harv. L. Rev. 2110, 2111–12 (2022) (book review). There are even a few prominent case books that put comparative constitutional law front and center.162See generally Vicki C. Jackson & Mark Tushnet, Comparative Constitutional Law (3d ed. 2014); Norman Dorsen, Michel Rosenfeld, András Sajó, Susanne Baer, & Susanna Mancini , Comparative Constitutionalism: Cases and Materials (3d ed. 2016); Stephen Ross, Helen Irving, & Heinz Klug, Comparative Constitutional Law: A Contextual Approach (2014). And for the relatively prolonged history of case books on comparative constitutional law, see Donald P. Kommers, Comparative Constitutional Law Casebooks for a Developing Discipline, 57 Notre Dame L. Rev. 642, 642 (1982). And some law schools also offer regular classes on the subject, either focusing on comparative constitutional law in general or, more concretely, on comparative constitutional design.163Among these schools, as far as I know, are Harvard Law School, Yale Law School, N.Y.U. School of Law, Columbia Law School, the University of Chicago Law School, and the University of Virginia Law School. Finally, Justices of the Supreme Court cite (or at least used to cite) comparative constitutional law and experience with some regularity, though, as alluded to before, they also passionately fight about whether they should.164See supra note 21 and accompanying text.

In administrative law, we don’t see anything remotely resembling this.165In addition to the various signs for comparative administrative law’s marginalization mentioned throughout this Section, I note that the only law school that has occasionally offered classes in comparative administrative law that I am aware of is Yale Law School, a fact that is primarily explained by Professor Rose-Ackerman’s presence on the faculty there. See also About Comparative Administrative Law Initiative, Yale L. Sch., https://law.yale.edu/study-law-yale/areas-study/comparative-administrative-law-initiative/about-comparative [https://perma.cc/F5Q6-CL8S]. N.Y.U. School of Law does occasionally offer classes that  take a somewhat comparative perspective to administrative law, largely given the fact that it houses several scholars who pioneered the field of so-called “global administrative law” (“GAL”). See Global Administrative Law, Inst. for Int’l L. & Just., https://www.iilj.org/gal [https://perma.cc/J257-D2AE]. I return to discuss GAL and its implications later below. See infra notes 351–55 and accompanying text. It’s as if the possibility of engaging in comparative administrative law in any meaningful capacity is almost entirely invisible today in America.

C.  Explanations for the Decline

What explains all this? Why has comparative administrative law been such a dominant enterprise at the birth of the modern field in America, continued to be meaningful all the way until roughly the end of the 60s and early 70s, and then transformed into nothing more than an underdog? Something that is truly “fringe” if not very close to being “dead, dead, dead”?

One answer needs to be ruled out right off the bat. It is not that at some point when the decline in comparison became evident other countries suddenly stopped to have their own administrative states or a self-contained body of law known as “administrative law.” To the contrary: administrative states in the world have gone from strength to strength, so much so that, as one scholar put it, it is “trite” to observe their global rise and centrality.166Michael Taggart, From ‘Parliamentary Powers’ to Privatization: The Chequered History of Delegated Legislation in the Twentieth Century, 55 U. Toronto L.J. 575, 575 (2005); see also Enrico Borghetto, Delegated Decree Authority in a Parliamentary System: The Exercise of Legislative Delegation in Italy (1987–2013), 24 J. Legis. Stud. 179, 179 (2018) (detailing the extensive rise of delegated legislation in Italy); Jeremy K. Kessler, Illiberalism and Administrative Government, in Law and Illiberalism 62, 64 (Martha Merrill Umphrey et al. eds., 2022) (remarking that “all industrial and post-industrial [liberal-democratic] nation states have featured administrative government”). And administrative law is now similarly an established—indeed, central—field in all post-industrial liberal (and non-liberal) democracies alike.167Though in some systems that lack a formal constitution, the field of administrative law is sometimes just referred to as “public law” or is lumped together—both in scholarship and teaching—with constitutional law. See generally, e.g., Mark Elliott & Robert Thomas, Public Law (3d ed. 2017). But still, we don’t see much administrative law comparison. Or, at least, we don’t see much comparative administrative law in the United States.

Again, why?

One explanation is simply that we no longer need it as much. Comparison is especially called for when creating something new, like writing a new constitution or constituting a new legal field.168See, e.g., Saunders, supra note 49, at 37–38 (speaking on the need for comparison in constitution making as “inevitabl[e]”). And for some examples of the pervasive use of comparisons in moments of constitution-making, see generally D.M. Davis, Constitutional Borrowing: The Influence of Legal Culture and Local History in the Reconstitution of Comparative Influence: The South African Experience, 1 Int’l J. Const. L. 181 (2003). Even Justice Scalia, who was a staunch critic of the use of comparative law in the field of constitutional law, agreed that comparison is indispensable at the stage of a country’s constitutional formation. See Printz v. United States, 521 U.S. 898, 921 n.11 (1997) (“We think such comparative analysis inappropriate to the task of interpreting a constitution, though it was of course quite relevant to the task of writing one.”). That question was important in the past when modern administrative law was just emerging. Like a kid who learns to ride a bike for the first time, we needed the help of those who were more mature and experienced. But today, we’ve already learned how to ride our administrative law bicycle. Comparison is simply much less called for. And it is even less called for when the sources of administrative law have themselves become indigenous to our own legal system, which happened for the U.S. most clearly with the passage of the APA.169This can clearly be gleaned from the fact that since the passage of the APA, the use of comparative administrative law already tailed off significantly. See supra note 113 and accompanying text.

Another explanation for the decline probably has to do with changing biographical and indeed demographical trends. The previous generation of scholars and practitioners of administrative law had close ties to foreign nations. They were often born abroad and educated there.170For example, Frank Goodnow was born and educated in Germany. Freund, while being born in America, returned to Germany with his German-born parents and completed his doctoral studies there. See Ohnesorge, supra note 54, at 58. They also spoke languages other than English and could thus easily consume foreign sources and scholarship.171Id. But today, that’s not the standard story of those who operate within the administrative law space. Most are now U.S. born and raised, speak fewer languages, and their ties to foreign nations are generally much weaker than those held by previous generations.172This can be gleaned not only from larger immigration trends throughout the 20th century in America, but also from the reality in which a J.D. degree from a top-ranked American law school is a strong indication of faculty hiring success. See, e.g., Milan Markovic, The Law Professor Pipeline, 92 Temp. L. Rev. 813, 813 (2020). My own informal impression, moreover, is that until very recently there was no active American administrative law scholar teaching in a U.S. law school who has been educated significantly abroad. I say that, of course, with a good dose of self-awareness and trepidation—as I am a scholar of administrative law who has gained much of my legal education abroad, and I have been recently hired to teach that subject in a U.S. law school (and after using this paper which calls for more comparative engagement and attentiveness as my job talk paper!).

The decline is likely also related to the changing politics of comparative administrative law. When we turned to comparison at first, the reason wasn’t only that we needed help to ride our administrative law bike for the first time. The reason was also that some had believed that to establish a field of administrative law was mission impossible. More specifically, Albert Venn Dicey, the eminent British scholar, had famously argued at the end of the nineteenth century that the concept of a distinctive form of administrative law such as the one that existed in France and in other continental systems is foreign to the U.K. and, by extension, also to other common law systems like the U.S.173See A.V. Dicey, Introduction to the Study of the Law of the Constitution 304–06 (8th ed. 1915). It breeds, Dicey said, perverse “collectivism.”174A.V. Dicey, Lectures on Relation Between Law and Public Opinion in England During the Nineteenth Century 258 (1905). Dicey’s administrative skepticism was widely known in America.175Many if not all the authors mentioned in Section I.A referred to Dicey’s denial of administrative law. But for another example, see Wyman, supra note 73, at 1–2. Moreover, it might be interesting to note that Dicey had spent time in the late nineteenth century at Harvard University. See also A.V. Dicey, The Teaching of English Law at Harvard, 13 Harv. L. Rev. 422, 422 (1900). And for supporters of the rise of administrative state at the turn of the century and later, the turn to comparative law was thus necessary, indeed indispensable, to fend off Dicey’s indictment on the field. To show that there can be an administrative law (and, for that matter, an administrative state) that is attractive and sound. For some, including especially Goodnow and Freund, the attempt involved showing, through comparison, that the kind of continental administrative law that Dicey was indicting was a caricature and that it was much more liberal and enlightened than he had portrayed it.176See, e.g., Frank J. Goodnow, The Executive and the Courts: Judicial Remedies Against Administrative Action, 1 Pol. Sci. Q. 533, 538, 544 (1886) (arguing that German and French administrative law are appropriate sources for American administrative law, notwithstanding apparent differences). For others, including most clearly Justice Frankfurter and those who, like him, endorsed the “traditional system of Anglo-American law,” it was to show, through comparison, that the common law itself (mainly in the United Kingdom but also in other “English-speaking” countries) can be adapted to coexist with an administrative state.177E.g., Frankfurter, supra note 72, at 614–15 (remarking how English law has eventually evolved to acknowledge the possibility of administrative law and noting how Dicey’s later writings have recognized that adaptation). With the fight largely settled and administrative law and the administrative state secured (for the time),178For why this “for the time” qualification is needed, see infra Sections II.C and III.B (discussing the rise of a judicially powerful critique of the constitutionality of the administrative state in the U.S. and its implications). comparison’s political function simply became much less potent.

Academic fads also probably contributed to the decline in comparative administrative law in America. When the field of modern administrative law was initially born, comparison was a prominent and highly regarded scholarly method. Indeed, political science departments used to have systematic interest in comparative politics (and comparative law as well), and so did the emerging subfield of public administration. But things changed mid-century.179See, e.g., Krishna K. Tummala, An Essay on Comparative Administration, 60 Pub. Admin. Rev. 75, 76 (2000) (book review) (highlighting the increasing influence of public choice in political science especially on the expense of comparative politics). The stronghold of comparative methods has waned to be replaced by the generalist methods of rational or public choice. Comparative public administration had also dramatically subsided.180Id. at 75 (documenting that after a remarkable rise of comparative work in public administration in the 60s, that work has gradually waned).

***

All these reasons surely played some important role. But they can’t possibly be the entire story. As we’ve seen, comparative constitutional law is alive and well today in America and beyond, a defined field even experiencing a sort of “renaissance.”181See generally Ran Hirschl, Comparative Matters: The Renaissance of Comparative Constitutional Law (2014). Why not something similar with respect to comparative administrative law?

One potential explanation for this imbalance might be that comparative administrative law hasn’t stuck because of its relatively low prestige when compared with constitutional law. Indeed, administrative law is sometimes said to be the “poor relation of public law; the hard-working, unglamorous cousin laboring in the shadow of constitutional law.”182Tom Ginsburg, Written Constitutions and the Administrative State: On the Constitutional Character of Administrative Law, in Comparative Administrative Law 60, 60 (Susan Rose-Ackerman & Peter L. Lindseth eds., 2017). A “boring”183William Funk, My Ideal ‘Casebook’ or What’s Wrong with Administrative Law Legal Education and How to Fix It, In a Nutshell (So to Speak), 38 Brandeis L.J. 247, 247 (2000). field not fit “for sissies.”184Antonin Scalia, Judicial Deference to Administrative Interpretations of Law, 1989 Duke L.J. 511, 511 (1989). Constitutional law, by contrast, is the “most prestigious field in the legal academy.”185Richard A. Posner, Overcoming Law 87 (1995). Another potential explanation might be related to the fact that Americans have become particularly averse to administrative comparison. This may be in part connected to broader cultural beliefs in the United States, which envision the country as a projector, a city on the hill, and a beacon for others.186See Mark Tushnet, When Is Knowing Less Better than Knowing More? Unpacking the Controversy over Supreme Court Reference to Non-U.S. Law, 90 Minn. L. Rev. 1275, 1291 (2006) (drawing on these metaphors to refer to the U.S. self-perception vis-à-vis the world). An exporter not an importer. But the apparently growing turn to administrative law “textualism” and “originalism” (and aversion to so-called “administrative common law”)187See supra note 10 and accompanying text. could be another potential indication of the imbalance with constitutional law. After all, these methods of interpretation signal an enhanced turn inward to our own unique national sources of law and administration—rather than to looking outwardly. Or, at least, the way transnational comparison could be squared with these now ascending methods for “doing” administrative law is quite restricted.188It would involve efforts to show, for example, the scope of comparison the “original” audience had in mind. Alternatively, it would limit the scope of comparative exploration to a domain in which elements like the “communicative content” of the APA leave room for more free-form “construction.” More broadly, originalism and textualism downplay the relevance of experience in the real world. But comparison is all about experience.

But even this can’t tell the entire story. At least within legal academia, administrative law is highly regarded and central and has been so for a while.189One indication of this, among many, is the rise in the popularity of classes on “[l]egislation and [r]egulation” and the fact that some schools don’t even offer constitutional law as a mandatory 1L class. See, e.g., John F. Manning & Matthew Stephenson, Legislation & Regulation and Reform of the First Year, 65 J. Legal Educ. 45, 45 (2015) (discussing the development of the legislation and regulation class, with particular reference to the experience at Harvard Law School). And the rise of administrative law textualism and originalism, while obviously an important trend, is rather ambiguous at this point. Not everyone working in the administrative law space endorse either of these.190For a particularly forceful (and, in my view, compelling) rejection of APA textualism and originalism, see Ronald M. Levin, The Evolving APA and the Originalist Challenge, 97 Chi.-Kent L. Rev. 7, 31 (2022). See also Gillian E. Metzger, Embracing Administrative Common Law, 80 Geo. Wash. L. Rev. 1293, 1293–94 (2012). It is also not entirely clear what this administrative law of “textualism” and “originalism” precisely entail.191For a recent discussion of the many ambiguities involved in a putatively “textual” approach to administrative law, see Kristin E. Hickman & Mark R. Thomson, Textualism and the Administrative Procedure Act, 98 Notre Dame L. Rev. 2071, 2072–75 (2023). And it should be noted that the rise of constitutional textualism and originalism didn’t prevent the emergence of comparative constitutional law—though, of course, their ascendancy is certainly part of what triggers the fight about the legitimacy of its use in the context of judicial decision-making. But, again, with respect to comparative administrative law, there isn’t even a fight.

This leaves a final potential reason for the decline of comparative administrative law. To see the issue, we need to go back a bit. In the general field of comparative law, there used to be a familiar divide between, on the one hand, public law and, on the other hand, private law. Comparison, it was believed, is simply much easier in the latter. Public law was considered “resistant” to comparative law.192Kahn-Freund, supra note 49, at 17. Its institutions or rules arise, so the belief went, “not only from deliberate design . . . [but] from both the history and underlying social problems [of specific nations], such as religious or linguistic diversity.”193John Bell, Public Law in Europe: Caught Between the National, the Sub-National and the European?, in Epistemology and Methodology of Comparative Law 259, 265 (Mark Van Hoecke ed., 2004). While in private law we could often assume some “shared understanding of political, social, and economic functions of the state,”194Mathias Siems, Comparative Law 34 (2d ed. 2018). we couldn’t assume the same thing when it comes to public law. Public law, in other words, was perceived as a unique expression of national values and beliefs and a nation’s idiosyncratic “spirit.”195William Ewald, Comparative Jurisprudence (II): The Logic of Legal Transplants, 43 Am. J. Compar. L. 489, 493–95 (1995) (discussing Savigny’s theory). In terms drawn from Friedrich Carl von Savigny, public law is emblematic of a nation’s spirit—its “Volkgeist.” Id. at 494. The idea, of course, resonates with Montesquieu’s description of the “spirit” of laws. For discussion of that concept and Montesquieu’s thought on this point, see Peter Stein, Legal Evolution: The Story of an Idea 15–17 (1980).

Of course, this sharp divide between private and public law is no longer strongly held (if it ever was) among comparativists. It is recognized, for instance, that private law is similarly afflicted with national values just like public law is.196See, e.g., Oscar G. Chase, Some Observations on the Cultural Dimension in Civil Procedure Reform, 45 Am. J. Compar. L. 861, 865–68 (1997). For recent examples of cutting-edge comparative work in private law that recognizes divergences in national private law cultures, see Yifat Naftali Ben Zion, Cleaning Up the Corporate Opportunity Doctrine Mess: A First Principles Approach, 80 Wash. & Lee L. Rev. 1609, 1609–10 (2023); Yifat Naftali Ben Zion, Good Faith & Loyalty: Reimagining Contracts from a Fiduciary Law Perspective, 98 Tul. L. Rev. 471, 473–77 (2024). And for studies that suggest that there may be a comparative difference across jurisdictions in views about how much private law is intertwined with nation states, see Ralf Michaels & Nils Jansen, Private Law Beyond the State? Europeanization, Globalization, Privatization, 54 Am. J. Compar. L. 843, 843 (2006). And, again, the modern field of comparative constitutional law has clearly emerged, globally and in America, notwithstanding the beliefs in public law’s idiosyncrasies.197Though, as David Fontana has shown, even that process was not entirely evident and took time at least in America. See generally Fontana, supra note 20. But what had in large part enabled this blurring of the sharp divide between private law and public law, and especially the rise of comparative constitutional law as a central field, was something more. The overall sense about constitutional law was that it had gone through a unique process that crystalized the fact that its “possibilities”198Tushnet, supra note 20, at 1225. were becoming significant. That despite national differences, there is a sense in which countries are all engaged in some kind of similar project broadly defined as “constitutionalism.”199In the past, that term was used to signal distinctively liberal-democratic forms of constitutionalism. Today, the domain seems to be enlarging to incorporate even non-liberal democracies. See, e.g., Mark Tushnet, Authoritarian Constitutionalism, 100 Cornell L. Rev. 391, 415 (2015). See generally Constitutions in Authoritarian Regimes (Tom Ginsburg & Alberto Simpser eds., 2014). Moreover, there was a pervasive claim that differences between nations’ constitutional laws have either begun to disappear or at least have softened in a way that makes comparative constitutional law useful, if not indispensable.

And, indeed, scholarship in comparative constitutional law has consistently shown just that. It talked, for instance, about the growing sense of similarities between nations that would make constitutional law comparison useful, identifying certain “paradigms”200Lorraine E. Weinrib, The Postwar Paradigm and American Exceptionalism, in The Migration of Constitutional Ideas 84, 110 (Sujit Choudhry ed., 2007). and elements of constitutional law that appear similar (if not “generic”) across nations.201David S. Law, Generic Constitutional Law, 89 Minn. L. Rev. 652, 659 (2005); see also David S. Law & Mila Versteeg, The Declining Influence of the United States Constitution, 87 N.Y.U. L. Rev. 762, 762–63 (2012) (discussing the increasing similarities and convergences across systems’ constitutional apparatus). Scholarship likewise suggested that the “globalization” of constitutional law is “inevitable,” pointing to pressures in the diffusion of similar norms and institutions of constitutional law.202E.g., Mark Tushnet, The Inevitable Globalization of Constitutional Law, 49 Va. J. Int’l L. 985, 988 (2009). But see Rosalind Dixon & Eric A. Posner, The Limits of Constitutional Convergence, 11 Chi. J. Int’l L. 399, 400 (2011). Even highly exceptional systems—and primarily, so the story goes, the U.S.—did not seem so exceptional if looked at more closely.203See, e.g., Stephen Gardbaum, The Myth and the Reality of American Constitutional Exceptionalism, 107 Mich. L. Rev. 391, 391 (2008). Civil society organizations, or non-governmental organizations (“NGOs”), at both the domestic and the transnational levels, were amplifying similar themes. They’ve created both formal and informal webs that continuously emphasized potential opportunities for cross-national learning in an increasingly “going global” constitutional law.204This has been especially the case with respect to the domain of constitutional law dealing with constitutional rights. See Benedikt Goderis & Mila Versteeg, The Diffusion of Constitutional Rights, 39 Int’l Rev. L. & Econ. 1, 1 (2014).

In stark contrast, the field of administrative law hasn’t gone through the same process. Instead, the overall impression appears to have been that while the possibilities of comparative constitutional law have been increasing with the years, the possibilities of comparative administrative law have not and may in fact have been decreasing. For instance, there was no softening of national administrative differences as has occurred in constitutional law. There were similarly no processes of globalization that had made the possibilities of administrative law seem clear. Rather, differences between nations’ administrative states and laws seem to have become sticky, persistent, and pervasive.205This sense was moreover intensified by the observation that while constitutional amendments seemed like a relatively common, if not frequent phenomena globally, changes in the organization of administration and administrative law were not. This observation had been made already in the early 20th century by the eminent German scholar Otto Mayer. See Otto Mayer, 1 Deutsches Verwaltungsrecht [German Administrative Law] VI (1924) (remarking that “Verfassungsrecht vergeht, Verwaltungsrecht besteht” meaning when “constitutional law passes, administrative law remains”); see also Sabino Cassese, New Paths for Administrative Law: A Manifesto, 10 Int’l J. Const. L. 603, 604 (translating same). But it has been confirmed to some important extent by recent data. See generally Zachary Elkins, Tom Ginsburg & James Melton, The Endurance of National Constitutions (2009) (showing a reasonably high level of change and variability in worldwide constitutional arrangements). These sticky differences in turn made it doubtful that administrative law comparison would yield real benefits that would be worth exploring. Rather, these differences would be costly and would even prove prohibitive—a real “handicap[] to accurate understanding.”206Bernard Schwartz, French and Anglo-American Conceptions of Administrative Law, 6 Mia. L.Q. 433, 436 (1952); see also Mirjan R. Damaška, The Faces of Justice and State Authority: A Comparative Approach to the Legal Process 1 (1986) (“An immense and bewildering subject opens up before one who contemplates the diversity of arrangements and institutions through which justice is variously administered in modern states. The range of diversity is such that it eludes expression in terms of a common vocabulary and makes us uncertain about the adequacy of our basic points of reference.”).

And to be sure, certainly at a surface level, and at various periods of time since the start of comparative administrative law’s demise described in Section I.A, it was easy to point out multiple significant-looking differences amongst various nations’ administrative states and laws. Take a look:

(1) Framework statutes: To start, in America, the APA could not be more central. It’s key to U.S.-based administrative law scholars as well as to U.S. administrative law practitioners’ understanding of the field.207This is true even if scholars do accept that there is much more beyond the APA. See, e.g., Daniel A. Farber & Anne Joseph O’Connell, The Lost World of Administrative Law, 92 Tex. L. Rev. 1137, 1137 (2014). It’s considered our administrative state’s mini-constitution. But in other countries, the idea of statutory codification of administrative law and procedure was, in the past, perceived to be entirely foreign. Indeed, Germany and France used to view administrative law codification with deep suspicion.208See Delphine Costa, Codification of Administrative Law: A French Oxymoron, in Codification of Administrative Law: A Comparative Study on the Sources of Administrative Law 128, 138 (Felix Uhlmann ed., 2023) (describing how the Conseil d’Etat “did not trust the transformation of judge-made law . . . into codified law”). They were committed to the development of administrative law mostly through courts and reliance on “general principles” and unwritten norms.209Marzia De Donno, The French Code “Des Relations Entre le Public et L’Administration”. A New European Era for Administrative Procedure, 9 Italian J. Pub. L. 220, 229 (2017). On the German resistance to codification of administrative law and its commitment to general unwritten administrative law principles, see Hermann Punder, German Administrative Procedure in a Comparative Perspective: Observations on the Path to a Transnational Ius Commune Proceduralis in Administrative Law, 11 Int’l J. Const. L. 940, 943, 958 (2013). On the French resistance to administrative law codification, see Jean-Bernard Auby, Why France Was Unaffected by the Austrian Codification of Administrative Procedure?, in The Austrian Codification of Administrative Procedure: Diffusion and Oblivion (1920-1970) 185, 185–190 (Giacinto della Cananea, Angela Ferrari Zumbini & Otto Pfersmann eds., 2023). Statutory administrative law texts like the APA were anathema, and the field was viewed as “fundamentally jurisprudential” in nature.210 See Costa, supra note 208, at 134 (quoting Rene Chapus, Droit Administratif Général 6, at n.11 (15th ed. 2001)).

(2) Constitutional structure and administration: The divide between parliamentary and presidential systems is, of course, familiar to us from constitutional law. But it is arguably much more critical in administrative law given how it seems to dramatically impact the administrative state’s entire operation. In parliamentary systems, political control over the administrative state is much more streamlined and concentrated than it is in the latter. Given the “fusion” between the legislature and the executive, there is much less of an incentive to draw on administration to get things done rather than on, for instance, legislation.211See, e.g., McNollgast, The Political Origins of the Administrative Procedure Act, 15 J.L. Econ. & Org. 180, 182 (1999). There is also less of a need to constrain administration in ways that are different from “normal” political dynamics.212Id. In presidential systems, by contrast, things look exactly the reverse. The separation of the legislature and the executive and, more broadly, the existence of multiple veto points make the administrative state much more important for policymaking apart from the legislative route.213This is a reality, of course, that to a large extent explains the rise of “presidential administration” in America. See Elena Kagan, Presidential Administration, 114 Harv. L. Rev. 2245, 2246 (2001). And the divergence of institutional interests between branches creates increased incentives to establish constraints over the administrative state outside of normal politics (including by reliance on a relatively elaborate system of administrative law).

(3) Centralization v. decentralization: We know that the degrees of centralization or decentralization of administration matter greatly for how administrative law works in practice.214See, e.g., Gillian E. Metzger, Agencies, Polarization, and the States, 115 Colum. L. Rev. 1739, 1740–41 (2015) (highlighting the pivotal role states play within the American administrative state and given its federalist structure). But here, too, there seemed to be substantial cross-national differences that made it look like administrative law comparison is not worth the candle. In some countries, such as Germany, Belgium, and Spain, there used to be a very high level of decentralization—indeed, most administration in these countries was done locally or regionally, rather than centrally.215See, e.g., Arthur B. Gunlicks, Administrative Centralization and Decentralization in the Making and Remaking of Modern Germany, 46 Rev. Pol. 323, 324 (1984). In other countries, such as France, most administration is done at the central level with very little regional or local independence.216See Jean-Bernard Auby, Lucie Cluzel-Metayer & Lamprini Xenou, Administrative Law in France, in Comparative Administrative Law: Administrative Law of the European Union, Its Member States and the United States 5, 9–11 (René Seerden ed., 4th ed. 2018). In the U.S., we are somewhere in the middle—focusing for the most part on various forms of cooperative federalism and cooperative administration.217For more recent discussions of this dynamic and how it plays out in the development of administrative policymaking, see David S. Rubenstein, Administrative Federalism as Separation of Powers, 72 Wash. & Lee L. Rev. 171, 171 (2015); Miriam Seifter, States as Interest Groups in the Administrative Process, 100 Va. L. Rev. 953, 954–61 (2014).

(4) Scope, underlying political economy, and visions of the state: The scope of the administrative state itself, as well as the political economy underlying it or, if you will, the general “vision” of the state as reflected in administrative arrangements, seemed throughout time to further diverge substantially across countries. For example, the possibilities of nationalization of economies and industries have been extremely limited in the United States. America, it was said, saw itself as a “steering” state that can, at most, intervene to regulate the market.218See Beermann, supra note 152, at 173 (discussing the limits of the “reach” of administrative law given political economy constraints in America). It moreover saw itself as a “reactive” state—one that provides a framework for social interactions, rather than directly or proactively managing them.219See, e.g., Damaška, supra note 206, at 73. But in other countries, the situation appeared quite different. Some countries did rely on nationalization much more substantially than America did.220See, e.g., Alfred C. Aman, Jr., Administrative Law in a Global Era 5–7 (1992). They were less in need of “steering” economies and societies, and more in the role of “directing” them given the high level of state control in markets that is the result of nationalized industries.221Id. For the metaphor of “steering” and how it differs from directing or even “providing, distributing, running, or voting,” see John Braithwaite, Cary Coglianese & David Levi-Faur, Can Regulation and Governance Make a Difference?, 1 Regul. & Governance 1, 6 (2007). Other jurisdictions also rejected an exclusive vision of reaction. They firmly endorsed a “positive” and “activist” state role, which doesn’t just create a thin framework for social interaction, but also proactively manages and coordinates it.222See, e.g., Damaška, supra note 206, at 80. Damaška uses the term “activist” state, but for the similar term of positive state, see Giandomenico Majone, From the Positive to the Regulatory State: Causes and Consequences of Changes in the Mode of Governance, 17 J. Pub. Pol’y 139, 139 (1997).

(5) Judicial systems and the place of administrative law: Perhaps most vividly because of how much the field of administrative law is traditionally associated with judicial review, there seemed to have been substantial cross-country variation in structures for judicial control of administration, as well as in how different countries view the place of administrative law within the legal system itself. In some systems, like France and countries that followed in its footsteps, judicial control of the administration is done through a uniquely designated system of administrative courts that is part of the executive branch, performs both advisory and adjudicative functions, and is composed of personnel drawn from the civil service who are trained separately from “ordinary” judges.223The difference has become especially stark in France since 1945 with the establishment of the National School of Administration (Ecole Nationale de l’Administration) as a separate entity from the respective school for judges in “ordinary” civil and criminal cases. See Georges Langrod, The French Council of State: Its Role in the Formulation and Implementation of Administrative Law, 49 Am. Pol. Sci. Rev. 673, 688–89 (1955). There was moreover a strong conceptual and doctrinal separation between administrative law and private law. This is the famous droit administratif that, as mentioned before, Dicey came out so strongly against and that was moreover rejected by those who supported the emergence of a distinctive “Anglo-American tradition” in administrative law.224See Dicey, supra notes 173–74 and accompanying text. In other countries, like Germany, administrative law is similarly perceived as a special body of law and different from other fields as in France. But the control over administrative law is nonetheless vested in uniquely designated courts of law, not executive institutions as they are in France and the other systems that build on droit administratif.225See John Bell, Judiciaries Within Europe: A Comparative Review 108–69 (2006). Finally, in yet other systems, particularly those like the United States and the United Kingdom (the “Anglo-American tradition” again), administrative law was entirely continuous with the regular court system. Administrative law disputes are therefore resolved by regular judges with regular (and general) training in law. Administrative law and private law are moreover not tightly if at all separated.226See, e.g., Carol Harlow, “Public” and “Private” Law: Definition without Distinction, 43 Mod. L. Rev. 241, 241–42 (1980) (emphasizing the weakness of the public and private law divide in common law systems).

(6) Civil society organization: We know that civil society organization is crucial for administrative law.227See, e.g., Richard B. Stewart, The Reformation of American Administrative Law, 88 Harv. L. Rev. 1667, 1669 (1975) (discussing the reformation of American administrative law in response to, and as a way to facilitate, civil society interventions into administrative policies); Schiller, supra note 7, at 1399–410 (discussing the rise of the pluralist paradigm in American administrative law from a historical perspective). But nations seemed to diverge substantially in that as well. In America, structures of organization are plural and diverse. We see a substantial amount of diverse civil groups with multiple different claims over policy and administrative law. But in European nations, and other countries—for example in Latin America—forms of “neo-corporatism” were quite powerful.228See, e.g., Joseph Szarka, Environmental Policy and Neo-Corporatism in France, 9 Env’t Pol. 89, 89 (2000). There wasn’t, in other words, a strong dynamic of pluralist policymaking. Civil society in those countries was traditionally quite weak, and the state used to work with a limited (and often state-funded) groups of stakeholders in making administrative policies.229Id. at 91.

(7) Bureaucratic ethos and tradition, and the bureaucracy’s place in the culture: Administrative law is also, in large part, the law of bureaucratic organizations. The way bureaucracies behave is thus central to the field.230See, e.g., Jerry L. Mashaw, Bureaucratic Justice: Managing Social Security Disability Claims 1 (1983). But countries’ bureaucracies appeared, again, to be dramatically divergent when compared to one another. On paper at least, national bureaucracies were trained differently, represented potentially different societal classes, possessed a different ethos toward the meaning of public service policy, and had different understandings of how much of their work is discretionary and political (and how much they work in environments that are themselves political and in constant interaction with political appointees).231See Martin Painter & B. Guy Peters, Administrative Traditions in Comparative Perspective: Families, Groups, and Hybrids, in Tradition and Public Administration 19, 20–23 (Martin Painter & B. Guy Peters eds., 2010); see also B. Guy Peters, Administrative Traditions: Understanding the Roots of Contemporary Administrative Behavior 1–3 (2021); Sabine Kuhlmann & Helmut Wollmann, Introduction to Comparative Public Administration: Administrative Systems And Reforms in Europe 325–44 (2d ed. 2019). So, for example, a law for the U.S. bureaucracy, which is penetrated by a high level of political appointees, seemed to be quite different from the kind of law appropriate for the Westminster bureaucracy depicted in Yes, Minister or the German Rechtsstaat bureaucracy which developed a high ethos of legalization and rule of law.232Painter & Peters, supra note 231, at 5. And a law for a cadre of professional French bureaucrats who were trained at a designated professional school and who have different understandings of what discretion means, would be different from the law that we would write or try to formulate for an American “street-level” official.233Id. See generally Michael Lipsky, Toward a Theory of Street-Level Bureaucracy (Inst. for Rsch. on Poverty, 1969) To add to that, societal reaction to the existence of a bureaucratic class that administrative states had made so central also seemed importantly split across nations. In America, a culture of bureaucratic skepticism was believed to be prevalent—some say it is perhaps part of our DNA.234See, e.g., Fareed Zakaria, Why Americans Hate Their Government, Wash. Post (Nov. 21, 2013), https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/fareed-zakaria-why-americans-hate-their-government/2013/11/21/0fd0d32c-52de-11e3-a7f0-b790929232e1_story.html [https://perma.cc/RG6H-RLCH]. But in other places, bureaucracies didn’t seem to necessarily raise similar concerns or passions. Bureaucracy in these countries was just a benign part of life.235Id.

(8) Regulatory culture and style: Countries moreover appeared to diverge in their regulatory culture much more broadly. In the U.S., a paradigm of “adversarial legalism” seems to be quite dominant, by which policy is formulated through the clashing of interests that are often channeled through the courts.236Robert A. Kagan, Adversarial Legalism: The American Way of Law 3 (2001). There has also been for a while now a generally favorable attitude toward regulation through rulemaking and formalized decision-making modes more broadly (even if the APA calls them “informal”).237See, e.g., Lars Noah, Governance by the Backdoor: Administrative Law(lessness?) at the FDA, 93 Neb. L. Rev. 89, 95 (2014) (arguing that the use of informal regulation has been on the rise and reflects deep lawlessness). But in other countries, the regulatory culture seemed quite distinct. Rather than adversarial it was sometimes characterized as “consensus-based.”238Richard B. Stewart, Accountability and the Discontents of Globalization: US and EU Models for Regulatory Governance 1 (Sept. 20, 2006) (unpublished manuscript), https://www.iilj.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/Stewart-Accountability-and-the-Discontents-of-Globalization-2006.pdf [https://perma.cc/7U9N-X3E6]. And rather than formalized, other countries seemed to be much more informal, and less rule bound.239See, e.g., David Vogel, National Styles of Regulation: Environmental Policy in Great Britain and the United States 146–93 (1986); Robert A. Kagan, American and European Ways of Law: Six Entrenched Differences, in European Ways of Law: Toward a European Sociology of Law 41, 47 (Volkmar Gessner & David Nelken eds., 2007). Regulation based on trust and more confidence in the “tap on the shoulder” or “good chaps” kind of process seemed to be pervasive outside America, including perhaps most clearly in the U.K.240See Vogel, supra note 239, at 146–93 (discussing the informal style of regulatory action in England).

(9) Legal culture and style: Legal styles—not only regulatory styles—also appeared to be dramatically different between jurisdictions. Though, as previously discussed, there is now a growing trend towards administrative textualism and originalism,241See supra notes 9–10, 184, and accompanying text. it is hard to deny that administrative law used to have a deeply pragmatic and theoretical cast in America. Indeed, American administrative law sometimes appeared to be in constant search of a theory—whether a democratic theory, moral theory, or something that is being hypothesized and tested empirically.242See, e.g., Matthew D. Adler, Justification, Legitimacy, and Administrative Governance, 5 Issues Legal Scholarship 1, 12 (2005) (highlighting how the search for administrative legitimacy in America has led administrative law scholarship to explore various theoretical and empirical paths to go beyond the merely doctrinal). “We are all [administrative law] realists now.”243This statement is a paraphrase from the well-known quip “we are all legal realists now.” E.g., Brian Bix, The Many Faces of Legal Realism, 2 Ordines 18, 20, 30 (2022). But other systems didn’t appear to have a similarly pragmatic or normative attitude toward the subject of administrative law. They were much more administratively doctrinal and technical than Americans have been for quite some time. The difference was especially striking when compared with Germany, which was indeed characterized by a strongly scientific and juridic style of “doing” administrative law (and “doing” law generally).244See Punder, supra note 209, at 944 (discussing Germany’s commitment to the scientific method in administrative law). But this was also the case with respect to our sibling from the “Anglo-American tradition,” the United Kingdom. In fact, when commenting on administrative law in the U.K. in the 1960s, Kenneth Culp Davis could barely disguise his aversion to the distinctively English legal style of the time.245See supra note 131 and accompanying text. He wrote, for example, that scholarship in the U.K. on administrative law needs to move from “bombast to realism”246Davis, An American View, supra note 131, at 139. and that  administrative law there more broadly suffers from a problem of “practical jurisprudence.”247Davis, A Problem, supra note 131, at 201. And to be sure, other countries didn’t always appreciate the American style of administrative law. The American realist, pragmatic, or moralistic jurisprudence both in general and specifically in administrative law was even ridiculed in the U.K. as nothing more than “Jazz Jurisprudence” for lacking sufficiently robust doctrinal chops.248C.K. Allen, Law in the Making 45 (3d ed. 1939); see also Neil Duxbury, English Jurisprudence Between Austin and Hart, 91 Va. L. Rev. 1, 62 (2005); Robert Stevens, Basic Concepts and Current Differences in English and American Law, 6 J. Legal Hist. 336, 344 (1985).

(10) Complexity: Finally, the complexity of the field probably also contributed to administrative law comparativism’s demise. Indeed, certainly compared with constitutional law, administrative law seems to have a “higher degree of technical complexity” in large part “due to a much greater amount of regulation and case law to be studied than in constitutional law.”249Jacques Ziller, Public Law, in Elgar Encyclopedia of Comparative Law 603, 604 (Jan M. Smits ed., 2006). Administrative law, in short, is distinctively hard or, as Justice Scalia described it in a term already mentioned before, a field not apt “for sissies.”250Scalia, supra note 184, at 511.

***

With such sense of deep and sticky divergence and complexity, and no similar move to what had occurred in constitutional law by which the possibilities of cross-national comparison have been so forcefully emphasized, it is not entirely surprising that the field of comparative administrative law died out or became nothing more than a sideshow. Cumulatively at least, the variances highlighted above all give the nagging sense that administrative law comparison is likely to prove particularly tricky, much more so than constitutional law. That it may not be worth the candle.

II.  WHY REVIVE?

Not every trend of the past requires reviving. Sometimes it’s better to leave things in the past and move on. And not everything that is on the fringe needs to move to center stage. Sometimes there are good reasons for leaving things well outside the spotlight. But that’s not the case with comparative administrative law. Reviving it to become more meaningful would serve valuable goals. Moving it from the periphery and closer to the core would put us in a better place to face the moment our administrative law finds itself in. This Part explains why.

A.  Why Compare?

Start at the beginning. Why even do comparative law? Why is it important, in other words, to study the way in which different jurisdictions’ legal arrangements and institutions diverge or converge?251See Sujit Choudhry, Globalization in Search of Justification: Toward a Theory of Comparative Constitutional Interpretation, 74 Ind. L.J. 819, 829 (1999). Academic work on this is broad, sophisticated, and complex.252For some key works that give an overview of the field, see generally The Oxford Handbook of Comparative Law (Mathias Reinmann & Reinhard Zimmermann eds., 2d ed. 2019); Geoffrey Samuel, An Introduction to Comparative Law Theory and Method (2014); Jaakko Husa, A New Introduction to Comparative Law (2015); Siems, supra note 194; Günter Frankenberg, Comparative Law as Critique (2016). But without doing too much violence to various important subtleties, it seems fair to identify four general uses for comparative law.

The first might be called genealogical.253See, e.g., Janet Halley & Kerry Rittich, Critical Directions in Comparative Family Law: Genealogies and Contemporary Studies of Family Law Exceptionalism, 58 Am. J. Compar. L. 753, 753 (2010). The history of nations strongly suggests that there were always important connections between jurisdictions—people moving across geographical borders, infusing their destination with legal ideas they brought with them in their metaphorical backpacks from back home (if not imposing them), or taking ideas to explore and implement (sometimes colonize) back home.254Alan Watson, Legal Transplants: An Approach to Comparative Law 22 (2d ed. 1993) (attributing to Roscoe Pound the saying that “[h]istory of a system of law is largely a history of borrowings of legal materials from other legal systems”). The study of comparative law can thus enable us to see patterns of movement and the diffusion of such ideas that we didn’t recognize before, thereby deepening our understanding of legal rules’ and institutions’ origins and evolution.

A second purpose of comparative law, probably closer to the core of the field, might be called reflective or critical. After all, we’re not bionic or faceless people. We usually work within confined domestic borders, studying how laws and legal institutions “of the place” can be explained, should be fixed, or could be influenced, how to decide according to their rules, and how to even think about them. We also care, often intimately, about our own geographic situation and the law around it. How could we not? But comparative law seems indispensable for even that type of process. Indeed, seeing how things work elsewhere in a foreign land can serve as a crucial “stimulus to legal self-reflection” about our own domestic predicament.255Choudhry, supra note 251, at 836. It provides us with a certain remoteness from our unique location and thus teaches us “to be more critical about the functions and purposes of the rules” we regularly study or operate by. 256Peter de Cruz, Comparative Law in a Changing World 19 (3d ed. 2007). Comparative law also teaches us not to “accept [these rules’] validity purely because they belong to [our] own system of law,”257Id. partly because the comparative enterprise “often picks up issues or makes connections that remain invisible”258Mary Ann Glendon, Paolo G. Carozza & Colin B. Picker, Comparative Legal Traditions in a Nutshell 8 (4th ed. 2016). and because that enterprise diffuses “false necessities.”259Id; Vicki C. Jackson, Methodological Challenges in Comparative Constitutional Law, 28 Pa. State Int’l L. Rev. 319, 320 (2010). For the idea of the value of comparison as a “dynamic,” as opposed to “static,” reflection on domestic law, see Rosalind Dixon, A Democratic Theory of Constitutional Comparison, 56 Am. J. Compar. L. 947, 949 (2008). By way of comparison, and looking at what’s different and what’s the same across borders, we can also gain a better understanding of what it is exactly that makes us unique and special, not exactly like everyone else. For it is through comparison that we can often more readily realize the existence of “competing political visions and contradictory normative ideals” as they are reflected in the law.260Günter Frankenberg, Critical Comparisons: Re-thinking Comparative Law, 411 Harv. Int’l L.J. 411, 452 (1985). Following comparison, we can then get back and reflect on how our own laws and institutions express those ideals or rather fail them.

Doing comparative law also has other relevant side benefits that support this key goal of self-criticism and self-reflection. For one thing, comparative law can be an important part of liberal education in law, in the sense that knowing something meaningful about how other countries in the world “do law” is part of the relevant knowledge that any sensible and mature lawyer should possess.261See, e.g., James Gordley, Comparative Law and Legal Education, 75 Tul. L. Rev. 1003, 1003 (2001); Tushnet, supra note 20, at 1309. And learning about others can be a crucial background condition that would allow us to enter into conversations with others in the world, conversations which, in turn, can enable the kind of learning and reflection that is a central promise of comparative law (in large part because it signals both collaboration with others and respect for them).262For an exposition that highly relies on the values of transnational collaboration and respect as a source for improving self-criticism and learning, see Jackson, supra note 21, at 111–12.

A third use of comparative law may be understood as directly reformist or institutional. We do comparison as a technique of self-improvement. We ask: If other countries are facing what seems like a similar legal problem or a challenge to a legal institution, and they’ve found an arrangement that seems to work for them quite well, perhaps it could also work for us? Indeed, comparative law is sometimes offered as a way to figure out “which solution of a legal problem is the best”263Konrad Zweigert & Hein Kötz, An Introduction to Comparative Law 8, 46 (Tony Weir trans., 2d ed. 1987). or is “clearly superior.”264O. Kahn-Freund, Comparative Law as an Academic Subject 22 (1965). Or, if not the best or clearly superior, then at least a solution that’s less of an “imperfect alternative”265See generally Neil K. Komesar, Imperfect Alternatives: Choosing Institutions in Law, Economics, and Public Policy (1994). from what we presently have such that it would be sensible for us to “transplant,”266See generally Watson, supra note 254. “migrate,”267Sujit Choudhry, Migration as a New Metaphor in Comparative Constitutional Law, in The Migration of Constitutional Ideas 1, 19–21 (Sujit Choudhry ed., 2006). or “borrow”268Nelson Tebbe & Robert L. Tsai, Constitutional Borrowing, 108 Mich. L. Rev. 459, 462–67 (2010). it in some form and after proper adaptation.

Finally, and even if solutions that exist in comparative law can’t really be transplanted, migrated, or borrowed in any form in the short-term, perhaps because the legal culture in a specific country makes it entirely unsuitable for the other country, that doesn’t mean that doing comparative law is pointless. In these situations, the final use of comparative law kicks in. Comparative law can be a technique of cultural transformation. Doing comparative law can be a move within the given legal culture that tries to adapt or complicate it to make it more amenable in the future for desirable change. Both public and official discussion of the possibility of learning from other countries and even transplanting their ideas in some form act as a kind of constructive “irritant”269I draw this term from Gunther Teubner, Legal Irritants: Good Faith in British Law or How Unifying Law Ends Up in New Divergences, 61 Mod. L. Rev. 11, 12 (1998). and a technique to proactively engineer legal culture to make it in the future something else that could potentially be better.270Cf. Oren Tamir, Constitutional Norm Entrepreneuring, 80 Md. L. Rev. 881, 881–82 (2021) (discussing ways norm entrepreneurs might operate to change deeply embedded norms).

As may be expected, comparativists often fight, vigorously, about which goal amongst these is the most important or valuable and which may even be dangerous. On one end of the spectrum, there are so-called “universalists”271Choudhry, supra note 251, at 833. who endorse an “ideology of similarity.”272I draw this term from Christoph Schönberger, Verwaltungsrechtsvergleichung: Eigenheiten, Methoden und Geschichte, in Handbuch ius Publicum Europaeum, Bd. IV: Verwaltungsrecht in Europa: Wissenschaft 493, 500 (Armin von Bogdandy et al. eds., 2011) (English translation on file with the author and cited with permission). They believe that, despite apparent differences, many of us are essentially the same. Consequently, universalists are drawn to the most ambitious reformist, institutional, and cultural transformative goals of doing comparative law (or, at least, they feel reasonably confident in doing so).273For work in the vein of the universalist tradition, see, e.g., Mauro Cappelletti, The “Mighty Problem” of Judicial Review and the Contribution of Comparative Analysis, 53 S. Cal. L. Rev. 409, 412 (1980); Jeremy Waldron, Foreign Law and the Modern Ius Gentium, 119 Harv. L. Rev. 129, 132 (2005) (arguing that comparative law and particularly interactions and exchanges between courts of different nations can help create a new kind of “natural law”). By contrast, there are so-called “particularists”274Choudhry, supra note 251, at 830. who endorse an “ideology of difference.”275Schönberger, supra note 272, at 500. They claim that “there are differences in detail” between legal systems “that are so profound they call into question the extent of a shared foundation of legal thought.”276George P. Fletcher, The Universal and the Particular in Legal Discourse, 1987 BYU L. Rev. 335, 342 (1987). For particularists, comparative law is at most a reflective and critical enterprise, not a reformist or transformative one. Transplantation or borrowing from one system to another, they argue, is utterly impossible.277See, most famously, Pierre Legrand, The Impossibility of ‘Legal Transplants’, 4 Maastricht J. Eur. & Compar. L. 111, 116–18 (1997). In fact, particularists occasionally worry that even reflection and self-critique through comparative law would have unfortunate consequences (especially that of tacit colonization and further marginalization of non-Western cultures and traditions of law).278See generally David Kennedy, The Methods and the Politics, in Comparative Legal Studies: Traditions and Transitions 345 (Pierre Legrand & Roderick Munday eds., 2003) (developing a general critique of comparative law that emphasizes the potential subordinating and colonizing effect it can have rather than emancipatory effects).

We need not take a decisive stand on each of these poles right now. As we will soon see,279See infra Section II.E. a sensible comparative approach in general, and to administrative law in particular, moves away from the poles to take a position someplace in the middle (though, for reasons that will also be evident later, and in the administrative law context at least, probably closer to the particularist pole than to the universalist one). But before we get to all that, something else needs to be said.

B.  The (Renewed) Possibilities of Comparative Administrative Law

All the goals of doing comparative law just discussed are general in nature. As such, they apply in principle to any field of law, including, of course, to administrative law. But with respect to this specific field, something seems to be standing in the way. As we saw in Part I.C, the demise of comparative administrative law was not just coincidental.280See supra Section I.C. Rather, it was explained to some important extent at least by a strong sense that the possibilities of doing comparative administrative law are quite limited. That, especially when compared with constitutional law, cross-national differences between systems’ administrative laws remain persistent and deep. And that, again in contrast to constitutional law, there was no similar globalization of administrative law that made the prospects of comparison promising.

It has been so for a while, but we are now finally at a point where we can decisively say that this is no longer true. The possibilities of comparative administrative law are now evident and clear once more, very much like they have been for some time now in the field of comparative constitutional law. Indeed, just as in constitutional law, differences between national systems’ administrative laws and structures have similarly begun to “fade”281Bignami, Comparative, supra note 32, at 155. or at least are now much more “fluid.”282John S. Bell, Comparative Administrative Law, in The Oxford Handbook of Comparative Law 1250, 1258 (Matthias Reimann & Reinhard Zimmermann eds., 2d ed. 2019). And as with constitutional law, administrative law has also gone through a roughly similar process of globalization or “universality.”283Jeffrey Jowell, The Universality of Administrative Justice?, in The Transformation of Administrative Law in Europe 55, 62–64 (Matthias Ruffert ed., 2007). The conditions are now finally and securely ripe for the revival of comparative administrative law.

1.  Cross-National Administrative Law Fluidity

To see this, begin with the fading of cross-national differences or their fluidity. Section I.C identified multiple dimensions along which jurisdictions seemed to differ from each other in the ways they organize administrative states and laws. But looking more closely now, and with the benefit of the passage of time, a much more blurred picture is revealed.

(a) Framework statutes: To begin, while in the past many systems outside the U.S. rejected the idea that administrative law should be grounded in a framework statute a la the APA, that is no longer the case. The introduction of framework administrative law statutes is now a clear and decisive global trend.284For discussion at an early stage in the context of Europe, see generally Sabino Cassese, Legislative Regulation of Adjudicative Procedures, 3 Eur. Rev. Pub. L. 15 (1993). And for a recent confirmation of the trend in Europe, see Giacinto della Cananea, The Common Core of European Administrative Laws 72 (2023). For the same trend in Latin America, see Allan Brewer-Carias, Administrative Procedure and Judicial Review in Latin America, in Judicial Review of Administration in Europe 65, 67 (Giacinto della Cananea & Mads Andenas eds., 2021) (remarking that “[i]n almost all Latin American countries, the rules of administrative procedure are regulated through special Administrative Procedure Laws”). Germany was early to adopt the change, despite strong resistance initially in the late 1970s.285See generally Verwaltungsverfahrensgesetz [VwVfG] [Administrative Procedure Act], May 25, 1976, Bundesanzeiger [BAnz] (Ger.). And many others have followed in its footsteps, both in Europe and in Latin America, with the latest addition being France in 2015.286See generally Code des relations entre le public et l’administration [C.R.P.A.] [Code on the Relations between the Public and the Administration] (Fr.).

(b) Constitutional structure and administration: The divide between parliamentary and presidential systems, arguably more important for administrative law than for constitutional law, is also not as stark as it used to be. In parliamentary systems in Europe and elsewhere, there is a clear trend whereby traditional parties have weakened, exemplified by both the appearance of new smaller parties in parliaments across the globe287See, e.g., David P. Baron, Comparative Dynamics of Parliamentary Governments, 92 Am. Pol. Sci. Rev. 593, 596 (1998) (discussing the rise of smaller parties across Europe’s parliamentary systems). and by the noted empowerment of so-called “backbenchers.”288See, e.g., Meg Russell, The Policy Power of the Westminster Parliament: The Empirical Evidence, U.K. Const. L. Ass’n (Dec. 4, 2015), https://ukconstitutionallaw.org/2015/12/04/meg-russell-the-policy-power-of-the-westminster-parliament-the-empirical-evidence [https://perma.cc/ZP77-6AX2] (highlighting how the rise of backbenchers has weakened the government’s parliamentary policy power in the U.K.). This obviously makes it much harder for the government of the day to operate through parliamentary channels to get its policy created and, accordingly, complicates claims that branches in parliamentary systems are inescapably fused.289See, e.g., Andrew Edgar, The Westminster Model in Comparative Administrative Law: Incentives for Controls on Regulation-Making, 38 U. Tasmania L. Rev. 47, 57–58 (2019). The need for administrative law and constraints on the power of administration seem therefore much more pronounced than they used to be even for parliamentary systems. The rise of empowered prime ministers in various parliamentary democracies who manage empowered independent offices that aim to execute policies that come directly from prime ministers themselves, rather than their cabinets, is another indication of the possible growing “presidentialization” of parliamentary systems.290See generally The Presidentialization of Politics: A Comparative Study of Modern Democracies (Thomas Poguntke & Paul Webb eds., 2005). And to be sure, the same blurring of the lines exists on the presidential side as well. Here, the rise of “separation of parties, not powers”291Daryl J. Levinson & Richard H. Pildes, Separation of Parties, Not Powers, 119 Harv. L. Rev. 2312, 2312 (2006). coupled with the reality of frequently divided government (at least in the U.S.) also puts pressure on the idea that presidential systems are dramatically different from parliamentary ones.292For a recent illustration of the complex dynamics, see Gregory A. Elinson, Intraparty Conflict and the Separation of Powers, 25 U. Pa. J. Const. L. 1307, 1318–21 (2024). Dynamics expected in theory to occur only in one type of system appear regularly in both, complicating the idea that administrative states or laws always work in extremely divergent ways depending on constitutional structure.293On the general blurring of differences between parliamentary and presidential systems, see Richard Albert, The Fusion of Presidentialism and Parliamentarism, 57 Am. J. Compar. L. 531, 531–32 (2009). See generally Eric C. Ip, Judging Regulators: The Political Economy of Anglo-American Administrative Law (2020) (arguing that similarly suggests how modern developments have eroded differences between parliamentary and presidential systems in the context of administrative law, and as applied to the United States and England).

(c) Centralization v. decentralization: Differences in the degree of centralization of administrative states worldwide are much murkier today as well. Most clearly, there is a growing trend of further centralization even in the most ambitiously decentralized administrative systems.294But for the trend of some decentralization in France, see John Bell & François Lichère, Contemporary French Administrative Law 59–60 (2022). This centralization is expressed either through formal processes, by which some systems have cut back on the independence of decentralized units to make decisions themselves.295On the recent strong centralization trends in Spain, see Carmen Navarro & Francisco Velasco, From Centralisation to New Ways of Multi-Level Coordination: Spain’s Intergovernmental Response to the COVID-19 Pandemic, 48 Loc. Gov’t Stud. 191, 194–95 (2022). Or, as is often the case in the U.S., this is expressed through informal patterns by which the decentralized units implicitly delegate or are dictated from above the content of their policies within the dynamics of central/local cooperation, or in light of the rise in power in the role of chief executives.296On the changes that occurred, for example, in Germany’s federalism structures in recent years, and the more intense focus on centralization, see André Kaiser & Stephan Vogel, Dynamic De/Centralization in Germany, 1949–2010, 49 Publius: J. Federalism 84, 108–10 (2017). Even the U.S. has now gone through a substantial (even if sometimes opaque) process of centralization given the more dominant role of the presidency in administration.297See Jessica Bulman-Pozen, Administrative States: Beyond Presidential Administration, 98 Tex. L. Rev. 265, 298–315 (2019) (discussing the increased, even if somewhat implicit, role of the presidency in the state/administration dynamic).

(d) Scope, underlying political economy, and visions of the state: Conflicting views of political economy and the domain of the administrative state vis-à-vis the market also substantially changed with time. It is now a familiar story that social democracies around the world have been endorsing more and more patterns of privatization and delegation to private entities or the market.298See Taggart, supra note 166, at 613–20 (discussing the rise of “privatization” in the U.K.). See generally Stephen K. Vogel, Freer Markets, More Rules: Regulatory Reform in Advanced Industrial Countries (1996) (detailing the rise of market economy ideology and privatization across advanced economies around the world). They have, like the U.S., also embraced a rhetoric of government in the role of “steering” and “regulating” rather than “planning” and “directing.”299See Michael Taggart, Globalization, ‘Local’ Foreign Policy, and Administrative Law, in Inside and Outside Canadian Administrative Law: Essays in Honour of David Mullan 259, 274 (Grant Huscroft & Michael Taggart eds., 2006); see also Giandomenico Majone, From the Positive to the Regulatory State: Causes and Consequences of Changes in the Mode of Governance, 17 J. Pub. Pol’y 139, 156 (1997). And they have moved from being ambitiously “positive” states to being more “reactive” ones. But it is fair to say that even the U.S. has now become more complex and varied than in the past. Discussions of moving the U.S. economy and society to patterns more evident in social democracies, including by endorsing “public options” and national ownership,300See, e.g., Saule Omarova & Todd Tucker, Industrial Policy Requires Public, Not Just Private, Equity, Democracy J. (Mar. 27, 2023), https://democracyjournal.org/arguments/industrial-policy-requires-public-not-just-private-equity [https://perma.cc/VEC4-RA2L]. are a much more substantial theme in American politics today than they used to be.301See Steve Lohr, U.S. Not Always Averse to Nationalization, Despite Its Free-Market Image, N.Y. Times (Oct. 13, 2008), https://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/13/business/worldbusiness/13iht-nationalize.4.16915416.html [https://perma.cc/L4HM-EQFB]. There are also increasing calls that seek to transform the U.S. into becoming a much more “positive” and “innovative” state than in the past.302In my view, recent developments in the U.S. like the so-called Chips Act and the Inflation Reduction Act, both passed in 2022, are arguably quite strong signals for a potential openness in America for a much more robust and positive political economy by the state. See, e.g., Peter Baker, For Biden, Celebrating What a Law Did Rather Than What It Did Not, N.Y. Times (Aug. 16, 2023), https://www.nytimes.com/2023/08/16/us/politics/biden-inflation-reduction-act.html [https://perma.cc/VQ9B-NF45]; Jeanne Whalen, A New Era of Industrial Policy Kicks Off with Signing of the Chips Act, Wash. Post (Aug. 9, 2022, 5:00 AM), https://www.washingtonpost.com/us-policy/2022/08/09/micron-40-billion-us-subsidies [https://perma.cc/5SAW-4HVB]. See generally Beth Simone Noveck, The Innovative State, 150 Dædalus 121 (2021).

(e) Judicial system and the place of administrative law: Most dramatically perhaps, the differences between the way systems adjudicate administrative law disputes and how they perceive administrative law itself have also gradually faded. In France, the idea of a droit administratif in its clearest form has dimmed. Most conspicuously, the Conseil d’Etat, which is the supreme adjudicative body for administrative law disputes in France, its “nerve center,”303 Costa, supra note 208, at 134. has gained both formal and informal independence through the years that make it hard to say, notwithstanding its location within the executive branch, that it is dramatically different from an independent court.304Separation between the advisory and adjudicatory functions of the Conseil d’Etat was achieved by 1995 at the latest. See Pierre Delvové, Le Conseil d’État, Cour Suprême de l’Ordre Administratif [The Council of State, the Supreme Court of the French Administrative System], 123 Pouvoir 51, 59 (2007). The Conseil d’Etat’s body of law, and French administrative law generally, are also increasingly developing a “liberal” sensibility that makes it not that different from conceptions familiar from common law systems relying on the rule of law.305As one example of this, since 1979, French law has recognized a broad duty of providing reasons to individuals. Prior to that, reason-giving was required only when a statute specifically mandated it. But today, “reasons have to be given where civil liberties are restricted, penalties imposed, conditions are imposed on authorisation, existing rights are restricted or withdrawn, time limits [are] set or benefits refused when the requisite conditions are met.” Bell & Lichère, supra note 294, at 23. This occurs in part because of a recent revolution in the Conseil d’Etat’s philosophy and jurisprudence.306Id. at 30–32 But it is also being encouraged by the growing importance and prestige of the Conseil Constitutionnel, which is known for a more explicitly liberal and civil rights–based jurisprudence.307Id. In Germany, while the separated and unique system of administrative courts persists, it too has been importantly transformed. The penetration of the general court system to the administrative one is growing in Germany—especially in light of the jurisprudence of the Federal Constitutional Court which, like the Conseil Constitutionnel in France, tends to constitutionalize further and further areas of administrative decision-making, making German administrative law less distinct from other forms of law.308For a discussion of the complex dynamics of the gradual constitutionalization of German administrative law, see generally Ferdinand Wollenschläger, Constitutionalisation and Deconstitutionalisation of Administrative Law in View of Europeanisation and Emancipation, 10 Rev. Eur. Admin. L. 7 (2017).

And lastly, common law systems are themselves exhibiting transformations that make them much less distinct or different from their continental siblings. Australia, for example, now endorses a model of administrative tribunal adjudication that is constitutionally housed within the executive branch rather than in a separate judicial branch even though it retains commitment to adversarial adjudication and impartiality, which are centrally common law in nature.309See Peter Cane, Judicial Review and Merits Review: Comparing Administrative Adjudication by Courts and Tribunals, in Comparative Administrative Law 426, 444 (Susan Rose-Ackerman & Peter L. Lindseth eds., 2010) (highlighting the fact that Australian administrative law tribunals are housed under the Executive branch of government). And the U.S., too, no matter how some may view this as shocking, reveals some important droit administratif–kind of features. We are familiar, for example, with the fact that the D.C. Circuit is a rather specialized de facto administrative law court, even if informally and by geographical chance.310See generally Patricia M. Wald, Paul Verkuil, Jeremy Rabkin, Lloyd Cutler, Arthur E. Bonfield & Thomas M. Susman, The Contribution of the D.C. Circuit to Administrative Law, 40 Admin. L. Rev. 507 (1988) (discussing the unique place of the D.C. Circuit in administrative law, making it a de facto systematic expert in all administrative law issues). For a recent claim that the D.C. Circuit operates in similar ways to the French Counseil d’Etat, see generally Andrew Hammond, The D.C. Circuit as a Conseil D’État, 61 Harv. J. on Legis. 81 (2024). And the reality that most administrative law adjudications today—perhaps in spite of original intentions—occur outside the confines of the APA and its prescribed procedures, is important in this context as well.311See, e.g., Emily S. Bremer, Reckoning with Adjudication’s Exceptionalism Norm, 69 Duke L.J. 1749, 1752 (2020). That reality means that adjudication throughout the American administrative state is much less judicialized in nature and thus a so-called staple of the Anglo-American tradition of common law–like administrative law adjudication. With the recent jurisprudence of the Supreme Court that insists on what seems like an ever-growing presidential control over the administrative law adjudication apparatus,312See, e.g., Adam B. Cox & Emma Kaufman, The Adjudicative State, 132 Yale L.J. 1769, 1783–97 (2023) (discussing the growing presidentialization of administrative adjudication in the jurisprudence of the Roberts Court and its implications to various values including, primarily, adjudicative independence). the movement away from the “pure” Anglo-American tradition of administrative law into something more familiar in continental administrative law is even doubly evident.

(f) Civil society organization: The organization of civil society in nation states has also changed to become less sharply divergent and more globally fluid than in the past. The neo-corporatist model, prevalent in European nations and other countries around the globe, has weakened.313See generally Organizing Interests in Western Europe: Pluralism, Corporatism, and the Transformation of Politics (Suzanne D. Berger ed.,1981) (describing an earlier account of the changing nature of civil society organization). We see for example the growth of a more pluralist and robust civil society in previously corporatist nations. That growth results in higher expectations that civil society will penetrate policymaking much more substantially and will not suffice with the previous state according to which civil society had only a minimal involvement outside state-funded and subsidized networks.314Suzanne Berger, Introduction, in Organizing Interests in Western Europe, supra note 313, at 1, 4–6. By contrast, scholarship has exposed that corporatism also lives in some pockets of U.S. administrative law policy, whether in explicit form (such as in the banking and energy industries)315See, e.g., Daniel E. Walters & Andrew N. Kleit, Grid Governance in the Energy-Trilemma Era: Remedying the Democracy Deficit, 74 Ala. L. Rev. 1033, 1037 (2023); Saule T. Omarova, Bankers, Bureaucrats, and Guardians: Toward Tripartism in Financial Services Regulation, 37 J. Corp. L. 621, 631–32 (2012); David T. Zaring, The Corporatist Foundations of Financial Regulation, 108 Iowa L. Rev. 1303, 1360–66 (2023). or more implicitly (once we do a deep dive into the organization of allegedly pluralist civil society groups).316See, e.g., Miriam Seifter, Second-Order Participation in Administrative Law, 63 UCLA L. Rev. 1300, 1352–63 (2016).

(g) Bureaucratic ethos and tradition, and the bureaucracy’s place in the culture: Pressure is also mounting on the distinctiveness of nations’ separate bureaucratic traditions. Recent studies show, for example, that even a bureaucratic tradition and style that had internalized a commitment to a highly legalized way of working, such as the German bureaucratic tradition of the Rechsttaat is, in practice, not that divorced from being political and discretionary in ways familiar to us in America.317See Werner Jann & Sylvia Veit, Politics and Administration in Germany, in Public Administration in Germany 145, 150 (Sabine Kuhlmann et al. eds., 2021). The Westminster bureaucracy of a professionalized mandarin class hailed by people like Frankfurter318See supra note 87 and accompanying text. had also gone through substantial changes—including by the increase of the use of politicized bureaucracy (also known as “special advisers” or, briefly, SPADs).319See generally Heath Pickering, Marleen Brans & Athanassios Gouglas, The Institutionalisation of Ministerial Advisers in Westminster Governments (1970-2019): A Systematic Review and Thematic Synthesis (June 28, 2019) (unpublished manuscript), https://www.ippapublicpolicy.org/file/paper/5d0b57425a033.pdf [https://perma.cc/JG7M-YH52]. Even the famous bureaucratic universities or training centers that exist in some countries in Europe no longer possess the same prestige they used to have and may be facing reforms in some countries.320See, e.g., Natalie Huet, Macron Waves Goodbye to France’s Elite School for Top Civil Servants, Euronews (Aug. 4, 2021), https://www.euronews.com/2021/04/08/macron-waves-goodbye-to-france-s-elite-school-for-top-civil-servants [https://perma.cc/ZBF4-G5VB]. By contrast, in the U.S., despite the environment of high politicization and discretion, ideas about an ethos of bureaucratic independence and the existence of unique accountability of the civil service to standards of professionalism and rule of law,321See Paul R. Verkuil, Valuing Bureaucracy: The Case for Professional Government 97–100 (2017). For a very recent entry in this line of scholarship, see generally Anya Bernstein & Cristina Rodríguez, The Accountable Bureaucrat, 132 Yale L.J. 1600 (2023). which are said to be distinctive to bureaucracies across the Atlantic, also seem to be powerfully present. Even the normal cultural dispositions states used to have toward the bureaucracy are revealed to be more complex. The American public, perhaps surprisingly, does seem to show an impressive level of trust in the civil service.322For a recent surprising finding, see Brian D. Feinstein, Legitimizing Agencies, 91 U. Chi. L. Rev. 919, 982–84 (2024). And in other countries, such as the U.K., the image of bureaucrats running wild is similarly much stronger than in the past—perhaps part of what Yes, Minister was, in truth, all about.323See, e.g., Christopher Booker & Richard North, The Mad Officials 52–54 (1994).

(h) Regulatory culture and style: It is also not true anymore that regulatory styles and cultures so dramatically diverge across states or regions. Studies now show that a culture of “adversarial legalism” has likely emerged in Europe as well, even if it is distinct in some way from its American counterpart (and is hence dubbed “Eurolegalism”).324See Francesca Bignami & R. Daniel Kelemen, Kagan’s Atlantic Crossing: Adversarial Legalism, Eurolegalism, and Cooperative Legalism in European Regulatory Styles, in Varieties of Legal Order: The Politics of Adversarial and Bureaucratic Legalism 81, 82–83 (Thomas F. Burke & Jeb Barnes eds., 2017). An attraction to more formalized styles of regulation is evident as well even in countries such as the U.K, in which the tap on the shoulder style of regulation seemed quite strong in the past.325See, e.g., Carol Harlow & Richard Rawlings, Law and Administration 275–80 (3d ed. 2009) (discussing the increased “rulification” of English administrative law). And even in America, while its commitment to rules and legalism is rhetorically and institutionally strong, the picture is also much more mixed. For instance, rules in the U.S. also have “unrules” and much of the regulatory action may in fact occur there.326Cary Coglianese, Gabriel Scheffler & Daniel E. Walters, Unrules, 73 Stan. L. Rev. 885, 894–96 (2021). In addition, studies on the implementation of rules show that rules continue to be in many instances much more flexible and informal despite other pretensions.327See Daniel E. Ho, Does Peer Review Work? An Experiment of Experimentalism, 69 Stan. L. Rev. 1, 82 (2017) (conducting an empirical study which suggests that despite administrative law’s “standard answer” to “guiding line-level discretion has been to write more rules,” evidence highlights that “[d]ue to time and practical constraints, frontline inspectors have limited capacity to absorb, administer, and implement complex rules.”). European-style consensual regulation is also clearly a theme in America today.328 See generally, e.g., Jody Freeman, Collaborative Governance in the Administrative State, 45 UCLA L. Rev. 1 (1997).

(i) Legal culture and style: In similar spirit, it is simply no longer the case that we can contrast so forcefully between legal styles and cultures across nations. As mentioned before, Germany, for example, has long committed itself to a form of “scientific jurisprudence” that seemed, to American eyes, quite bizarre.329See Punder, supra note 209, at 945. But its pragmatism, empiricism, and openness to value choices in “doing” law (in general) and “doing” administrative law (in particular) is evident in some pockets and is in fact expanding, partly in response to changes in domestic academic fads in Germany, but also partly due to the previously mentioned increased influence of the Federal Constitutional Court.330See Larissa Vetters, Judith Eggers & Lisa Hahn, Migration and the Transformation of German Administrative Law: An Interdisciplinary Research Agenda 5–6, 10–11 (Max Planck Inst. for Soc. Anthropology, Working Paper No. 188, 2017), https://www.eth.mpg.de/pubs/wps/pdf/mpi-eth-working-paper-0188 [https://perma.cc/FMZ3-3PX8] (illustrating the growing openness in Germany for “realist” influences on administrative law judging, practice, and thinking). Kenneth Culp Davis’s indictment of administrative law jurisprudence in the U.K. as “impractical” and unnecessarily “bombast[ic]” is also no longer accurate.331Davis, An American View, supra note 131, at 140. The turn to pragmatism (what is sometimes called the “functional style”)332Martin Loughlin, The Functionalist Style in Public Law, 55 U. Toronto L.J. 361, 362–63 (2005). and to value-laden reasoning333For a more contemporary example, see Paul Daly, Understanding Administrative Law in the Common Law World 1–31 (2021) (developing and defending a “values-based” approach to administrative law in common-law systems of England, Australia, Canada, and Ireland). For a somewhat dated illustration of this, see Paul P. Craig, Public Law and Democracy in the United Kingdom and United States of America (1990) (discussing the differences between English and American public law systems, including systems of administrative law, from the perspective of democratic and political theory). in administrative law is now evident everywhere in the U.K. and across the common law world (even if some still try to sling arrows at it in favor of more of old-school English formalism and doctrinalism).334See, e.g., Christopher Forsyth, Of Fig Leaves and Fairy Tales: The Ultra Vires Doctrine, the Sovereignty of Parliament and Judicial Review, 55 Cambridge L.J. 122, 122–23 (1996). For some comparative studies that suggest some of the nuances in approach between English and American jurisprudence, see generally Richard A. Posner, Law and Legal Theory in England and America (1996); P.S. Atiyah & Robert S. Summers, Form and Substance in Anglo-American Law: A Comparative Study of Legal Reasoning, Legal Theory, and Legal Institutions (1987). In fact, when one looks cross-jurisdictionally, it is the American system, not the U.K., that now could be described by Davis as bombastic and lacking appropriate realism, in large part given the endorsement of more and more textualism and originalism, including, as we’ve seen, in administrative law.335See, e.g., supra notes 187–88 and accompanying text.

2.  The Globalization of Administrative Law

There are many potential developments that might help explain why these cross-national differences have been fading away gradually in all the ways I have flagged above (or, at least, why they’ve become more fluid). Some of these explanations are likely “bottom-up” and reflect real changes that exist within national societies and administrative systems to which law and institutions ultimately respond. Moreover, some of these can be the “top-down” consequences of the globalization of constitutional law.336Evident, for example, by the increasing influence of the Federal Constitutional Court in Germany and the Conseil Constitutionnel in France. See supra notes 306–07 and accompanying text. But it can’t be seriously doubted that some of the process is also explained by more top-down globalization of the field of administrative law itself. Indeed, we live today in a world where administrative law has been universalized to some important extent.

Perhaps the most distilled example of this emerging and increasing administrative law globalization is the European Union (“EU”). To be sure, the EU doesn’t codify or require its members to adopt similar systems of administrative law.337For past attempts in the direction of EU codification, now apparently neglected, see European Parliament Resolution of 15 January 2013 with Recommendations to the Commission on a Law of Administrative Procedure of the European Union, 2015 O.J. (C 440) 17–23. The starting point at the EU is one of administrative plurality. But as many scholars have noted, there is undoubtedly an evident trend of at least “gradual convergence” of administrative laws of EU member states.338Carol Harlow & Richard Rawlings, National Administrative Procedures in a European Perspective: Pathways to a Slow Convergence, 2 Italian J. Pub. L. 215, 215, 252–58 (2010). For a less restrained view that doesn’t see the process of pan-European convergence as merely “gradual,” see Jürgen Schwarze, The Convergence of Administrative Laws of the EU Member States, 4 Eur. Pub. L. 191, 193–95 (1998). This occurs through various formal mechanisms that operate in the EU to exert pressure on member states, including the development of “general principles” of administrative law by EU courts (both the European Court of Justice in Luxembourg and the European Court of Human Rights in Strasbourg), the existence of soft law principles of “good administration” identified by the EU ombudsman, and sector-specific EU regulation, which frequently imposes domain-specific requirements on member states. But this gradual “Europeanization”339See generally Mariolina Eliantonio, Europeanisation of Administrative Justice? The Influence of the ECJ’s Case Law in Italy, Germany, and England (2009). of administrative law across Europe also occurs through more informal means—including especially the existence and influence of various networks of European-based scholars who work to distill what they argue is a “common core”340Administrative Justice Fin de Siècle: Early Judicial Standards of Administrative Conduct in Europe (1890–1910) 4 (Giacinto della Cananea & Stefano Mannoni eds., 2021); Giacinto della Cananea & Mauro Bussani, The “Common Core” of Administrative Laws in Europe: A Framework for Analysis, 26 Maastricht J. Eur. & Compar. L. 217, 229–43 (2019); Giacinto della Cananea & Mads Andenas, Administrative Procedure and Judicial Review: A “Common Core” Research, in Judicial Review of Administration in Europe 4, 16 (Giacinto della Cananea & Mads Andenas eds., 2021). of administrative law across European states and the existence of “Pan-European principles of good administration.”341Ulrich Stelkens, The Common Core of European Administrative Laws and the Pan-European General Principles of Good Administration, in Judicial Review of Administration in Europe, supra note 340, at 21, 22.

Intra-EU pressures and attempts at globalizing European administrative law systems to move them in similar directions are highly salient, both formally and informally. They are also the subject of intense scholarly and practical debate.342For an important collection of essays dealing with the issue, see generally Administrative Law in Europe: Between Common Principles and National Traditions (Matthias Ruffert ed., 2013). But it would be wrong to think that the globalization of administrative law is limited to that regional context alone. It exists much beyond. We are now familiar in the administrative law world of the reality whereby “international aspects of regulation” penetrate to the level of domestic regulation in a variety of ways, both in the United States and outside of it.343Richard B. Stewart, Administrative Law in the Twenty-First Century, 78 N.Y.U. L. Rev. 437, 455 (2003). As various scholars have observed, “international norms [continuously] reshape decision-making processes within domestic bureaucracies.”344Daphne Barak-Erez & Oren Perez, Whose Administrative Law Is It Anyway—How Global Norms Reshape the Administrative State, 46 Cornell Int’l L.J. 455, 455 (2013); see also Jason Marisam, The Internationalization of Agency Actions, 83 Fordham L. Rev. 1909, 1911–12 (2015); Richard B. Stewart, The Global Regulatory Challenge to U.S. Administrative Law, 37 N.Y.U. J. Int’l. L. & Pol. 695, 695–96 (2005). But what is important to note here is that this sort of international penetration into the domestic is not done only with respect to substantive norms of regulation—constraining the type of choices domestic countries have with respect to how exactly to regulate a market or render services. Increasingly, international bodies are interested in influencing administrative law processes themselves—including the way administrative agencies conduct hearings, provide reasons, allow for public participation, formulate general policies, facilitate administrative decision-making independence, guarantee transparency, and evaluate regulatory decision-making.

The Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (“OECD”) is one central international body that has made decisive moves in this direction.345See, e.g., James Salzman, Decentralized Administrative Law in the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development, 68 L. & Contemp. Probs. 189, 190–95 (2005); Cary Coglianese, Administrative Law: Governing Economic and Social Governance, in Oxford Research Encyclopedia of Economics and Finance 3 (2022). In a series of documents, the OECD has addressed various administrative law issues ranging from agency independence, to sound public governance, and more generally, regulatory policy, identifying principles of administrative law at a high level of generality that should be best practices for all its member states—including integrity, openness, inclusiveness, accountability, and more.346See generally OECD, Guiding Principles for Regulatory Quality and Performance (2005) (noting how OECD has addressed administrative law issues); OECD, Cutting Red Tape: Comparing Administrative Burdens Across Countries (2007) (same); OECD, Regulatory Impact Analysis: A Tool for Policy Coherence (2009) (same); OECD, Recommendation of the Council on Regulatory Policy and Governance (2012); OECD, Procedural Fairness and Transparency: Key Points (2012) (same); OECD, OECD Best Practice Principles for Regulatory Policy: The Governance of Regulators (2014) (same); OECD, Framework for Regulatory Policy Evaluation (2014) (same); OECD, The Governance of Regulators: Being an Independent Regulator (2016) (same); Org. for Econ. Coop. & Dev., Trust and Public Policy: How Better Governance Can Help Rebuild Public Trust (2017); OECD, OECD Regulatory Policy Outlook 2018 (2018) (same); OECD, Draft Policy Framework on Sound Public Governance (2018) (same); OECD, OECD Regulatory Policy Outlook (2021) (same). The World Trade Organization (“WTO”) works on similar issues as well, consistently pushing an administrative procedural reform agenda through the various formalized tools it possesses.347For the specific role of the WTO in incentivizing this sort of harmonization on the international level, see Gregory Shaffer, How the WTO Shapes the Regulatory State, in Comparative Law and Regulation: Understanding the Global Regulatory Process 447, 447–48 (Francesca Bignami & David Zaring eds., 2016); Sabino Cassese, Global Standards for National Administrative Procedure, 68 L. & Contemp. Probs. 109, 113–16 (2005); David Livshitz, Updating American Administrative Law: WTO, International Standards, Domestic Implementation and Public Participation, 24 Wis. Int’l. L.J. 961, 975–81 (2006); Richard B. Stewart & Michelle Ratton Sanchez Badin, The World Trade Organization: Multiple Dimensions of Global Administrative Law, 9 Int’l J. Const. L. 556, 556–57 (2011). And for a general discussion of “procedural fairness” in the context of global competition law, see D. Daniel Sokol, The Case for Global Best Practices in Antitrust Due Process and Procedural Fairness, in Antitrust Procedural Fairness 4 (D. Daniel Sokol & Andrew T. Guzman eds., 2019). But, to be clear, this is really just the tip of the iceberg. In virtually any international regulatory domain from global competition law to global environmental law, a central focus goes beyond norms of substantive regulation and penetrate, if not center on, the organization of the administrative apparatus or its procedures.348For an extensive survey of the way international institutions control procedural aspects of administrative action worldwide, see Joel P. Trachtman, International Legal Control of Domestic Administrative Action, 17 J. Int’l Econ. L. 753, 755 (2014). For the focus in the World Bank on concepts of “good governance” and support for public participation, see Francesca Bignami, Theories of Civil Society and Global Administrative Law: The Case of the World Bank and International Development, in Research Handbook on Global Administrative Law 325, 326, 333–43 (Sabino Cassese ed., 2016). In fact, the regulation of administrative procedure seems so internationally central nowadays that some scholars have been calling for the explicit embrace of a “global due process”349Gerald L. Neuman, Whose Constitution?, 100 Yale L.J. 909, 919–20 (1991). norm or a “cosmopolitan administrative law”350Giulio Napolitano, Going Global, Turning Back National: Towards a Cosmopolitan Administrative Law?, 13 Int’l J. Const. L. 482, 482 (2015). by which international bodies, laws, and transnational NGOs will pressure nation-states to develop similar administrative law principles to the benefit of a more universalized, cosmopolitan, and open world.

A final indication for the contemporary globalization of administrative law is probably the rise of the so-called Global Administrative Law (“GAL”) movement in the first decade of the twenty-first century.351See Benedict Kingsbury, Nico Krisch & Richard B. Stewart, The Emergence of Global Administrative Law, 68 L. & Contemp. Probs. 15, 15–18 (2005); Sabino Cassese, Administrative Law Without the State? The Challenge of Global Regulation, 37 N.Y.U. J. Int’l L. & Pol. 663, 668–70 (2005). In contrast to previous examples that speak to how global institutions impact domestic administrative law and institutions, the GAL movement is more centrally focused on global institutions themselves.352Kingsbury et al., supra note 351, at 17 (defining GAL as comprising the “mechanisms, principles, practices, and supporting social understandings that promote or otherwise affect the accountability of global administrative bodies” (emphasis added)). What the GAL movement suggests is that general principles of administrative law—ones that we can see in several systems in some form—either already guide global institutions in their own struggle to achieve normative or sociological legitimacy, or that they should embrace general administrative law principles to achieve that sort of legitimacy. GAL, in other words, assumes that there is something to be called administrative law that crosses national borders, a kind of “due process beyond the state”353See generally Giacinto della Cananea, Due Process of Law Beyond the State: Requirements of Administrative Procedure (2016). or “international administrative law.”354Harrop A. Freeman, International Administrative Law: A Functional Approach to Peace, 57 Yale L.J. 976, 976–78 (1948). GAL’s whole premise can’t be squared with a sense of inevitable complexity, and even impossibility, for comparative administrative law. There exists, GAL scholars contend, some form of a global administrative law “baseline,”355Daniel C. Esty, Good Governance at the Supranational Scale: Globalizing Administrative Law, 115 Yale L.J. 1490, 1561 (2006). which either draws from the ability to compare systems and assume some common core amongst them or which draws on the standards of globalized administrative law that bodies like the OECD or the WTO endorse and push national systems to adopt.

3.  The Net Result

All this hopefully goes to show that administrative law has indeed been going through a significant process of both cross-national fluidity and internationalization. That process is clearly no longer unique within public law, as it may have been in the past, to the exclusive domain of constitutional law. Constitutional law’s “unglamorous cousin,” administrative law, has finally matured as well, breaking more decisively now from its previous geographical shackles or silos. These shackles were in large part responsible for the demise of comparative administrative law.

Of course, it is also important not to take the point here about this cross-national fluidity and globalization of administrative law too far. For one thing, the normative underpinnings of the globalization project, both in general and in administrative law particularly, are highly disputed (a point to which we also need to be aware, as we will soon see, when “doing” comparative law).356See infra Section II.D. In addition, there is now a well-known “ ‘backlash’ against global norms and institutions”357Peter G. Danchin, Jeremy Farrall, Jolyon Ford, Shruti Rana, Imogen Saunders & Daan Verhoeven, Navigating the Backlash Against Global Law and Institutions, 38 Austl. Y.B. Int’l L. 33, 33 (2021); see also Eric A. Posner, Liberal Internationalism and the Populist Backlash, 49 Ariz. St. L.J. 795, 795–97 (2017). that we must consider, and which may at a minimum complicate the sense of even gradual convergence amongst nations and systems. What’s more, the globalization project of administrative law, in the EU and beyond, didn’t erase all significant national differences. Differences across countries and regions clearly remain, and some of them are meaningful (as portions of the discussion above already suggested358For example, the development of the term “Eurolegalism” to explain changed regulatory styles is a strong indication that changes are far from clear-cut and may be importantly subtle. See Bignami & Keleman, supra note 324 and accompanying text. and as the discussion further below, in Part III, will moreover suggest).359See infra Section III.A (discussing the differences between systems’ commitments to public participation in general policies as a unique legitimating element of their administrative state). At bottom then, it is certainly possible that the processes of globalization and the massaging of cross-national administrative law differences have been weaker when compared with the parallel processes that occurred with respect to constitutional law. Consequently, there may be something real in the idea that administrative law more deeply reflects the image of a particular country and its “spirit” than even constitutional law does.360See supra note 195 and accompanying text. See generally Ginsburg, supra note 182 (arguing that administrative law is more distinctively representative of countries’ divergent traditions than constitutional law). I make the argument that administrative law is potentially more reflective of a country’s true constitutional ethos in a work in progress. See generally Oren Tamir, Administrativizing Constitutional Law: Why the Solution to the Counter-Majoritarian Difficulty Is Hiding in Plain Sight (2024) (unpublished manuscript) (on file with author).

But even with all these important caveats in place, the point certainly is that the sort of change I have been describing that did occur with respect to administrative law in recent years is a meaningful one. It highlights that it is now simply much less convincing—even farfetched—to say that comparative administrative law is not worth the candle as we may have been able to say in the past. As a result of the administrative law fluidity and globalization that had clearly occurred, comparative administrative law is surely possible now. At a minimum, we now clearly have a sort of cross-national “lingua franca” for administrative law—by which we can trace more easily and comfortably the way administrative law processes work across systems, whether these processes are about hearing, participation, or reason-giving; whether they are about making rules or adjudications; or whether they concern the need to allow for decisional independence, political dependency, or the technologies of evaluating regulatory policymaking.361For a claim in the American context that administrative law can similarly be distilled into several components, see Kevin M. Stack, An Administrative Jurisprudence: The Rule of Law in the Administrative State, 115 Colum. L. Rev. 1985, 1989–93 (2015). More ambitiously perhaps, we can now see that even if nations still importantly diverge in their evident “fluidity” and flirtation with globalization, they do seem to be committed, overall, to something we may think of as a joint “administrative law project.” That project is, on the one hand, a project of creating a body of law that facilitates national administrative states that “get things done”—that is, enables them to achieve various policy goals that are of interest to state organs as effectively and successfully as possible and through reliance on administrative bureaucracies. On the other hand, that project is also unified in the need to have a body of law for an administrative state that could ultimately be squared with other values liberal-democratic states seem to prize, whether these values are the rule of law, representative and participatory democracy, or the protection of rights.

And, indeed, precisely because of this change and transformation that had already occurred in the field of administrative law, it is not at all surprising then that recent years have suddenly begun to signal some initial signs in the direction of a comparative administrative law revival, abroad and even in America. Indeed, more and more work that takes comparative administrative law seriously is beginning to appear, with various scholars now unapologetically announcing that administrative law is comparative law’s “next frontier.”362Janina Boughey, Administrative Law: The Next Frontier for Comparative Law, 62 Int’l & Comp. L.Q. 55, 55–56 (2013). To name just a few examples: Since 2010, there is a comparative administrative law handbook which is now in preparation for its third edition. See generally Comparative Administrative Law (Susan Rose-Ackerman & Peter L. Lindseth eds., 1st ed. 2010); Id. (Susan Rose-Ackerman et al. eds., 2d ed. 2017); Id. (Blake Emerson et al. eds., 3d ed. forthcoming 2024). In 2021, a new comparative administrative law handbook was published, see generally The Oxford Handbook of Comparative Administrative Law (Peter Cane et al. eds., 2021). A new handbook on comparative judicial review in administrative law of countries in Europe and the EU has now also appeared for the first time. See generally Cases, Materials, and Text on Judicial Review of Administrative Action (Chris Backes & Mariolina Eliantonio eds., 2019). And the challenges brought by the COVID pandemic have also triggered important comparative administrative law work recently. See generally Cary Coglianese & Neysun A. Mahboubi, Administrative Law in a Time of Crisis: Comparing National Responses to COVID-19, 73 Admin. L. Rev. 1 (2021). For a recent call for the special need for increasing the emphasis on comparative administrative law in Latin America, see Hector A. Mairel, The Need for Comparative Administrative Law: Studies in Latin America, 6 Comp. L. Rev. 1 (2015). And for further recent additions to the currently growing scholarship on comparative administrative law, see generally The Principle of Effective Legal Protection in Administrative Law: A European Perspective (Zoltán Szente & Konrad Lachmayer eds., 2017); The Ombudsman in the Modern State (Matthew Groves & Anita Stuhmcke eds., 2022); Legitimate Expectations in the Common Law World (Matthew Groves & Greg Weeks eds., 2017). There are now also more conferences devoted to the topic, especially across Europe and the common law world.363In Europe, given the intensity and high focus on the subject of EU administrative law, as well as the influence of the research group on the “common core” of European administrative law, regular events are being held. See Meetings, Common Core Eur. Admin. L., http://www.coceal.it/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=17&Itemid=116 [https://perma.cc/9BF2-LMZL]. And across the common law world, there is now a biannual “public law” conference that brings together administrative law scholars from England, Ireland, New Zealand, Australia, and South Africa (as well as other common-law jurisdictions). These conferences also tend to produce edited collections of the papers presented at these conferences. See generally The Unity of Public Law?: Doctrinal, Theoretical and Comparative Perspectives (Mark Elliott et al. eds., 2018); Public Law Adjudication in Common Law Systems: Process and Substance (John Bell et al. eds., 2016). These conferences represent the emergence of growing transnational networks of scholars who have a systematic interest in comparing administrative states and laws. Even some American law schools that had previously ignored the existence of comparative administrative law have started lately to sing a different tune.364Harvard Law School, which has traditionally never offered classes on any issue related to comparative administrative law, now (since 2022) offers a new seminar and reading group on related themes. See Constitutional Dimensions of the Administrative State: Comparative Perspectives, Harv. L. Sch., https://hls.harvard.edu/courses/constitutional-dimensions-of-the-administrative-state-comparative-perspectives-2 [https://perma.cc/ZLZ7-UUL7] (a course taught by Professor Vicki C. Jackson). In fact, even comparative public administration seems to be “back in.”365Jamil E. Jreisat, Comparative Public Administration Is Back in, Prudently, 65 Pub. Admin. Rev. 231, 231 (2005); see also Jody Fitzpatrick, Malcolm Goggin, Tanya Heikkila, Donald Klingner, Jason Machado & Christine Martell, A New Look at Comparative Public Administration: Trends in Research and an Agenda for the Future, 71 Pub. Admin. Rev. 821, 821 (2011); Simon Procher, Culture and the Quality of Government, 81 Pub. Admin. Rev. 333, 333 (2019); Frtiz Sager, Christian Rosser, Céline Mavrot & Pascal Y. Hurni, A Transatlantic History of Public Administration: Analyzing the USA, Germany, and France (2018).

And it is at this point that we must go back to the general values of comparative law, discussed in Section II.A. Now that the path for doing comparative administrative law has been reopened for all to see, these various goals start to seep back in, so to speak. Like they were for the pioneers of the field and those who followed in their footsteps in America, the uses of comparative law would prove a real asset for our own domestic field of administrative law today. Not taking advantage of them, on the backdrop of the already occurring change, would be a huge mistake.

To start, doing comparative administrative law would help us in the historical-genealogical sense.366See supra notes 253–55 and accompanying text. Through comparative administrative law we might, for example, better understand the origins of our American system of administrative law, perhaps discovering that some of it isn’t entirely indigenous but in fact originates from a different soil. It was brought to us at the time when the pioneers of the field of administrative law were, as Section I.A discussed, “self-consciously” exploring foreign law.367Early work in this spirit already suggests this as a promising direction. As legal-historian Rephael Stern has shown in a forthcoming article, notwithstanding the widespread belief that regulation by rulemaking is a distinctively American invention, it appears as though rulemaking was a partial deliberate case of institutional and legal transplantation from the U.K. See generally Rephael G. Stern, The Lost English Roots of Notice-and-Comment Rulemaking, 134 Yale L.J. (forthcoming 2025) (on file with the Southern California Law Review) (suggesting that this historical insight about the transnational origin of notice-and-comment rulemaking might have practical institutional payoffs for today). For similar historical contributions that suggest that central features of our administrative state draw important inspiration from comparative law and practice, see generally Rosenblum, supra note 5 (arguing that the roots of presidential administration drew on comparative lessons); Emerson, supra note 3 (suggesting that the origins of notice-and-comment rulemaking may originate from continental traditions and ideas, especially in Germany).

Doing comparative administrative law will also contribute to our ability to reflect on our own domestic administrative law and critique it.368See supra notes 252–57 and accompanying text. After engaging in comparative administrative law, we might for instance stop taking some of the present arrangements we work by in administrative law so obviously and strictly and perhaps begin to imagine alternative trajectories instead. We might also be able to see more sharply which components of our own administrative law are unique and reflect our own particular national predicament. What is it, in other words, that’s distinctive about America and the way it “does” administrative law? How exactly do we balance the competing impulses underlying the field of administrative law and our own “administrative law project”:369See supra note 361–62 and accompanying text. having administration that gets things done but also being attentive to the demands of democracy, rule of law, and rights? Comparative administrative law can moreover help us see more crisply if our current administrative law truly abides by those ideals or rather fails them, and how, as Goodnow put it, to better face our “modern complex social conditions.”370Goodnow, supra note 11, at iv.

Doing comparative administrative law can also prove useful for consideration of beneficial institutional and legal reforms.371See supra notes 260–65 and accompanying text. Maybe we will be able to get fresh ideas for how to improve our own administrative law, and better calibrate its animating ideals, from looking at other systems and “borrowing” them (after, of course, suitably adapting them). Maybe the experience in other systems can give us the confidence needed to make changes that we were thus far hesitant to pursue or can serve as a test case for the kind of experience we were lacking. And even if direct reform or borrowing is not in the cards today, perhaps because our administrative law culture might be too resistant to it, we needn’t necessarily despair. As we saw, doing comparative law can serve as a means for pushing our administrative law culture (and general legal culture more broadly) in the direction of change, to “irritate” or “entrepreneur” it, so that it would eventually be able to change in what might possibly be highly desirable directions.372See supra notes 269–70 and accompanying text.

C.  Comparison in an Age of Administrative, and Democratic, Pressure

The possibilities of comparative administrative law are now finally looking promising again after years in which they appeared quite gloomy. But there is in fact reason to think that the possibilities of administrative law comparison, and the benefits we would draw from it, are particularly urgent today.

As anybody who has been paying even minimal attention to the field should know very well, our administrative state is under intense pressure today. It is attacked from all sides, and some of its central tenets are rapidly eroding. On the political right, administrative law is being challenged for allowing agencies to “run amok” without sufficient legal and political supervision and accountability.373Jennifer Huddleston, Supreme Court Considers Case Against Agencies Run Amok, Regul. Rev. (Nov. 22, 2022), https://www.theregreview.org/2022/11/22/huddleston-supreme-court-considers-case-against-agencies-run-amok [https://perma.cc/HG4K-EXHT]. Our newly constituted Supreme Court is not only reflecting much of this attack, but also seems to be spearheading it. Indeed, the Court is now tinkering substantially with various components of administrative law. It has reshaped entire structures of administrative adjudication and agency design to supposedly improve political accountability in the administrative state.374See, e.g., Lucia v. SEC, 138 S. Ct. 2044 (2018); Seila Law LLC v. CFPB, 140 S. Ct. 2183 (2020); United States v. Arthrex, Inc., 141 S. Ct. 1970 (2021); Collins v. Yellen, 141 S. Ct. 1761 (2021); West Virginia v. EPA, 597 U.S. 697 (2022). And for discussion, see generally Cox & Kaufman, supra note 312. And the Court is also clipping the wings of the relatively broad interpretive freedom agencies used to enjoy by announcing a newly revamped “major questions” doctrine375See West Virginia v. EPA, 597 U.S. 697, 732 (2022). and, as we have seen and will soon see again, by reevaluating the validity of Chevron deference.376See Biden v. Nebraska, 143 S. Ct. 2355 (2023). With this Court, even more may be in the cards in the near future.

But make no mistakes: administrative law is also being attacked from the political left though, of course, for very different reasons. It is argued, for example, that our administrative law suffers from a “procedure fetish” that makes it overly obsessed with the niceties of process on the expense of actually achieving real results that would improve people’s wellbeing.377See Nicholas Bagley, The Procedure Fetish, 118 Mich. L. Rev. 345, 346, 400–01 (2019). It is argued as well that administrative law is not nearly as democratic and participatory as it claims to be.378See, e.g., Neil Komesar & Wendy Wagner, The Administrative Process from the Bottom Up: Reflections on the Role, If Any, for Judicial Review, 69 Admin. L. Rev. 891, 916–21 (2017) (discussing a “minoritarian bias” in administrative law). And finally, critics mostly from the political left argue that there are pockets in our administrative state of deeply troubling bureaucratic oppression, such as in the context of the increasingly growing surveillance or national security state or in the field of immigration.379See, e.g., Jill E. Family, Regulated Immigrants: An Administrative Law Failure, 66 How. L.J. 1, 36–37 (2022); Margaret B. Kwoka, The Procedural Exceptionalism of National Security Secrecy, 97 B.U. L. Rev. 103, 125–37 (2017). For another account of the dark sides of the administrative state, in particular how it may enhance and preserve racial discrimination and injustice, see generally Bijal Shah, Administrative Subordination, U. Chi. L. Rev. (forthcoming 2024); Joy Milligan, Plessy Preserved: Agencies and the Effective Constitution, 129 Yale L.J. 924 (2020).

Scholars, commentators, and policymakers are now intimately and persistently engaged in inquiring how to respond to the current malaise.380See generally The Administrative State in the Twenty-First Century: Deconstruction and/or Reconstruction, 150 Dædalus , Summer 2021, at 5, 5–241 (Mark Tushnet ed.). But comparative administrative law could be an important sort of response, or, at least, an asset in considering what kind of responses we should ultimately devise. As suggested before, comparative administrative law can enable us to see better which elements in our administrative law are deeply intertwined with our own distinct situation in America. But that sort of inquiry seems particularly valuable in the face of the pressures the field is facing. It can indicate to us which components in the current critique or attack on the legitimacy of the administrative state, from either the right or the left (or maybe the center), are seriously misguided, failing to see more fully or faithfully the conditions that brought our administrative law to where it is today. Alternatively, and more provocatively perhaps, this type of comparative administrative law inquiry can help us realize when the present critique of our administrative law might actually have a point. By looking at others, maybe we will suddenly recognize places where our administrative law is currently missing opportunities to restrain administrative governance more robustly for the sake of a much-needed protection of democratic and legal values or rights (as argued by critics from both the political right and the left).381See, e.g., Christopher DeMuth, Can the Administrative State Be Tamed?, 8 J. Legal Analysis 121, 121–22 (2016) (an example on the Right); Shalini Bhargava Ray, Immigration Law’s Arbitrariness Problem, 121 Colum. L. Rev. 2049, 2050–54 (2021) (an example on the Left). Conversely, maybe by looking elsewhere we will be able to identify “pockets” where our administrative law is in fact excessively restrictive; that it could and maybe should release some of its grasp over administration for the sake of achieving desirable governmental goals more effectively and speedily (as argued mostly by critics on the left).382See, e.g., Bagley, supra note 377, at 345; see also Cristina M. Rodríguez, The Supreme Court 2020 Term—Foreword: Regime Change, 135 Harv. L. Rev. 1, 9 (2021) (elaborating and defending a vision of public law that centers the value of “making the government work for the people”).

Turning to comparative administrative law at this moment of pressure and stress can go beyond the mere diagnostic and reflective. As discussed before, comparative administrative law might offer useful suggestions for reform or borrowings. But in the current climate, something like this can be just what the doctor ordered. Because other countries are also engaged in a roughly similar “administrative law project” of finding the right balance between the need to enable the administrative state as well as restrain it, it is not at all farfetched to think that these countries had possibly landed on an arrangement, a framework, or a construct that does this effectively and that is missing in America. As a result, considering whether to export or at least build on any of these can thus prove important; it will enable us to adapt our own administrative law at this particular time of pressure such that contending forces in it might possibly “come to rest.”383Wong Yang Sung v. McGrath, 339 U.S. 33, 40 (1950). And, again, even if American administrative law culture would prove resistant to immediate transplantations from abroad (notwithstanding how suitably adapted we would make them), drawing on comparative administrative law can help us to potentially nudge our legal culture to move it to a place where stress will be diffused and resolved.

It is true that in America we’re used to telling ourselves a story according to which there’s something unique about our administrative state and what appears like its persistent legitimacy crisis.384See, e.g., James O. Freedman, Crisis and Legitimacy: The Administrative Process and American Government 3–15 (1978) (referencing how the American administrative state is haunted by a “recurrent sense of crisis”). But that exceptionalist story is decidedly false. Administrative states around the world also go through episodic shocks and crises just like we do. In the not too remote past, the major shock might have been the rise of the deregulatory movement, which clearly challenged many administrative states around the globe.385See, e.g., Taggart, supra note 166, at 613–20 (discussing how deregulation dramatically changed central tenets of the operation of the English administrative state and across Europe as well). In earlier times, the legitimacy crisis of the administrative state might even have been more dramatic. See Lindseth, The Paradox, supra note 31 at 1347–48 (discussing the crisis of fascism as expressed in the administrative law of France and Germany). But today, the source of the shock is deeply related to what appears to be a crisis of constitutional democracy around the world as well as to the effects of the global COVID pandemic.386See Constitutional Democracy in Crisis? 1–9 (Mark A. Graber et al. eds., 2018). On the one hand, constitutional democracies and administrative states around the globe are now being attacked for failing to be fully representative of the people themselves. They tend, as the attack goes, to benefit only a relatively thin layer of elites who are also deeply entrenched within the structure of the state, including by gaining control of the administrative apparatus (the so-called “deep state”).387See generally Democratic Backsliding and Public Administration (Michael W. Bauer et al. eds., 2021); B. Guy Peters & Jon Pierre, Populism and Public Administration: Confronting the Administrative State, 51 Admin. & Soc’y 1521 (2019). On the other hand, constitutional democracies and administrative states in various nations are also accused of being deeply ineffective—not doing enough to respond and achieve various policy goals or solve the challenges of a global pandemic, including by not letting the administrative apparatus do more (or by relying on administrative states that aren’t sufficiently agile and responsive but instead are overly static and pejoratively “bureaucratic”).388On the connection between the crisis of constitutional democracies and lack of governmental and administrative effectivity, see Richard H. Pildes, The Neglected Value of Effective Government, 2023 U. Chi. Legal. F. 185, 213–16 (2023); Samuel Issacharoff, Democracy Unmoored: Populism and the Corruption of Popular Sovereignty 37–53 (2023).

The current crisis in our own administrative law may in fact be just an expression, an instantiation, of this more global phenomenon as it translates to the conditions of the place. And to the extent that this is really the case, engaging in serious comparative administrative law seems doubly important. Not doing it might even be borderline irresponsible. If other states are also facing similar pressures on their own respective administrative law projects episodically and at this time, engaging in comparative administrative law can open the door for insights that we could not have gained before by just looking under the lamppost. Maybe other systems’ reactions to the current pressure on their own respective administrative states may prove provocative also for our own moment of crisis. Maybe they can offer solutions or devices that we may build on at home. And even if not (or not just yet), engaging in dialogue with comparative administrative law can be helpful in and of itself. We can learn from these types of conversations about other efforts being done and challenges being raised, further greasing the wheels of self-reflection and self-criticism of our own administrative law arrangements. Joining in conversations with others can even have a desirable cathartic effect—realizing that we’re not alone in sensing distress and trying to meet the challenges it puts on us. For those who seem to reject the legitimacy of administrative law in America—what has been called “anti-administrativism”389Gillian E. Metzger, The Supreme Court 2016 Term—Foreword: 1930s Redux: The Administrative State Under Siege, 131 Harv. L. Rev. 1, 3–8 (2017).—engaging in more globalized administrative law conversations, which would expose that many other systems face similar conflicts or pressures and engaged in a familiar administrative law project, might even complicate if not entirely challenge these beliefs.

D.  Costs and Risks: Administrative Comparison’s Misuse and Abuse

Comparative administrative law carries with it substantial promise in a world where its possibilities again seem real, and where administrative states (and constitutional democracies more broadly) are under pressure worldwide. But like almost everything else that’s good, it is not cost-free. Comparative administrative law might be seriously “misused.”390See Kahn-Freund, supra note 49 at 20; Saunders, supra note 49 at 41. And at this specific point in time, it might even be seriously “abused.”391See generally Dixon & Landau, supra note 41.

Start with the fact that even with the best of intentions, grave comparative administrative law missteps can occur. After all, comparison demands that we learn about other systems that we likely don’t know enough about, don’t speak their language, or don’t fully understand their legal and political cultures. But that’s a REALLY difficult task, certainly when done individually and the broader and more globally encompassing one’s comparative aspirations end up being. Consequently, any inference that we would make based on comparative administrative law is at risk of being exposed as simply erroneous or problematically selective. That inference didn’t get the foreign law “right” or is based on a too thin pool of countries that can’t really be said to support it. Alternatively, in light of these challenges of doing comparative law, any inference that we would make based on it could be exposed as an instance of “shallow comparativism,”392See Cheryl Saunders, Comparative Constitutional Law in the Courts: Is There a Problem?, 59 Current Legal Probs. 91, 125 (2006) (citing N K v. Minister of Safety & Sec. 2005 (6) SA 419 (CC) at 24–25 (S. Afr.)). in which the comparator, even if they didn’t err or weren’t problematically selective, had inadvertently omitted variables in law, politics, and culture that make their inference utterly unreliable.393On the problem of omitted variables in comparative law, see, e.g., Christoph Engel, Challenges in the Interdisciplinary Use of Comparative Law, 69 Am. J. Compar. L. 777, 782 (2021) (arguing that the problem of “omitted variables looms . . . large” in comparative law). In fact, given the more qualified process of convergence that had occurred with respect to administrative law, compared with constitutional law,394See supra Section I.B. there is reason to think that the risks of errors, selectivity, and shallow comparativism might be especially acute here.

For obvious reasons, the costs of errors, selectivity, and shallow administrative law comparison dramatically increase the more one seeks to draw on it for goals that transcend the mere reflective or analytical and venture into the more reformist and transformative goals of doing comparative law—whether in the institutions of law themselves or the overall administrative law culture. After all, if done erroneously or shallowly, comparative administrative law won’t likely suggest directions for useful reforms in present administrative law arrangements or for beneficial ways to push domestic culture. Rather, it could end up recommending something that doesn’t fit one’s domestic administrative state or law, won’t be understood there, or will create severe problems down the road. Similarly, the costs (as well as the likelihood) of errors, selectivity, and shallow administrative law comparativism further increase the more the use of comparison leaves legal academic circles and penetrates other domains, such as the judicial and governmental ones. After all, these environments are not normally characterized by the same academic disciplinary norms that reinforce important “quality controls” that can help guarantee robust contextual administrative law comparativism.395See generally Saunders, supra note 392 (discussing extensively the risks of comparison in the judicial setting). Time constraints, specific goal orientation pressures, and politics begin to slip in more clearly and explicitly, increasing the chances that comparative recommendations may not be sufficiently robust, will cause blunders if pursued, or will reflect unattractive (or at least disputed) political agendas.

And to be clear, comparative law can certainly have a political agenda that is far from appealing. And comparative administrative law, of course, is not immune from that either. We have actually seen it already in Part I.B, in the discussion of how Albert Venn Dicey invoked comparative administrative law negatively to arguably stymie the development of the administrative state across the common law world when the modern field was struggling to be born.396See supra notes 173–75 and accompanying text. Only counter-administrative law comparativism that exposed Dicey’s suggestion that administrative law is impossible as shallow and politically motivated seemed to have helped with that. However, we can also see the potentially troubling politics of comparative administrative law from more recent examples. For instance, we’ve seen before that there is now a global trend for the introduction of APA-like statutes around the world.397See supra notes 284–86 and accompanying text. While some celebrate this as one of the valuable aspects of administrative law globalization, this trend’s impact may, in practice, be much more ambiguous. In some jurisdictions, like in Latin America, this move might have created unrealistic expectations of what administrative states can in fact deliver or achieve.398See José Ignacio Hernández G., Administrative Procedure Acts in Latin America, Regul. Rev. (Nov. 3, 2022), https://www.theregreview.org/2022/11/03/hernandez-administrative-procedure-acts-in-latin-america [https://perma.cc/8MFW-PV25]. For broader questions about the sensibility of applying a universalistic framework of administrative law in the Latin American region, see generally Luis Eugenio Gracía-Huidobro & Sebastián Guidi, Baena’s Mirage: Lights and Shades of Comparative Administrative Law in Latin America, 19 Int’l J. Const. L. 1291 (2021). It might have even diverted resources from places where they may be more urgently needed.399See Hernández G., supra note 398. But see Migai Akech, Globalization, the Rule of (Administrative) Law, and the Realization of Democratic Governance in Africa: Realities, Challenges, and Prospects, 20 Ind. J. Glob. Legal Stud. 339, 344–48 (2013) (describing what appears like a more promising take). In addition, the GAL movement, which, as previously discussed, argues that global administrative law norms already shape (or should shape) global institutions, has also been forcefully criticized for contributing to the undesirable elimination of national administrative law pluralism amongst systems in favor of a far from clear vision of administrative universality.400See, e.g., Carol Harlow, Global Administrative Law: The Quest for Principles and Values, 17 Eur. J. Int’l L. 187, 188–89 (2006). The GAL movement was moreover criticized for its cherry-picking tendencies, focusing mostly on Western administrative law systems, as well as for its push for globally replicating administrative law norms that increase power and resource inequalities.401Id. at 193.

The costs and risks of administrative law comparison discussed so far (of being erroneous, shallow, selective, and its ability to draw on comparison in the service of unattractive, universalizing, and other political agendas) are general ones. But it should be noted that they may in fact be more expressed today. As we have seen, both in the U.S. and around the world, constitutional democracies and administrative states seem to be facing a current crisis.402See supra Section II.C. There are significant calls to make them much more responsive to the people themselves rather than to a thin layer of elites. Alternatively, there are calls to increase the efficacy of the administrative state to address policy issues of the day.

As argued before, that crisis can prove fruitful and potentially lead to desirable change. We need not assume the status quo ante was necessarily best or that the current crisis is “exogenous” to existing conditions. Doing comparative administrative law can be an important way to see that and capitalize on the crisis constructively.

Nonetheless, with the current environment of polarized politics and other trends that suggest growing support for an authoritarian style and program of politics, this crisis also highlights certain risks as well. The possibilities of reform afforded by the current moment can open the door not only for improvement, but also to eroding what we can think of as the “minimum core” of the administrative law project.403I draw this term from Rosalind Dixon & David Landau. See Rosalind Dixon & David Landau, Competitive Democracy and the Constitutional Minimum Core, in Assessing Constitutional Performance 268, 268 (Tom Ginsburg & Aziz Huq eds., 2016). On one hand, the desire to make democracies and administrative states more responsive to the people themselves can lead to moves that would eliminate the effective space for the kind of independent and hopefully expert judgment that is at the core of the administrative law project. On the other hand, the desire to increase the effectivity of the state apparatus (and perhaps to make it a tool for an increasingly transparent authoritarian project) can lead states to take steps that would create virtual black boxes or increase the reach of the so-called “deep state.” It would make administrative states effectively closed off from democratic and political contestation.

Comparative administrative law can potentially be recruited for exactly these kinds of “malicious”404Mathias Siems, Malicious Legal Transplants, 38 Legal Stud. 103, 104–05 (2018). and “abusive”405Dixon & Landau, supra note 41, at 3. goals. By drawing on arrangements that exist elsewhere and which appear benign from afar but will affect these kinds of changes, comparative law can provide these moves with a façade of legitimacy that they would not otherwise have. In such cases, comparative administrative law transforms into a tool that proactively aids attempts to erode the “minimum core” of administrative law, not truly advance a constructive discussion about reasonable arrangements and improvements in various countries’ administrative laws that are protective of that indispensable core.

E.  The Right Approach: Modesty and Experimentalism

Despite the costs, and without denying their seriousness, it would be wrong to say that these costs utterly condemn the practice of comparative administrative law. The benefits of engaging and reviving it are, as Sections II.B & II.C argued, likely substantial both in general and today. And it is simply far too quick to think that the risks of misuse and abuse can’t be handled in a manner that is subtler, and more sophisticated, than just backing away from doing it at all.

Of course, at the end of the day, there is no alternative to a considered contextual judgment about the virtues (and vices) of specific attempts at doing administrative law comparison. We can never escape judgment, and we especially can’t escape judgment in a discipline that is likely to stay in large part scholarly in nature. With that said, it does seem useful to at least try and identify the basic outlines of an approach to comparative administrative law that could potentially steer ongoing and future work in this vein in a promising direction. Such an approach could serve as a kind of convenient heuristic for the field to rely on, or coordinate around, as it hopefully continues to grow and comes together in the years ahead. Such an approach could moreover prevent at least the most egregious comparative administrative law missteps—or supply a common vocabulary to criticize it.

As the discussion up to this point already implicitly suggests, the approach I have in mind clearly rejects the extreme poles of universalism and particularism discussed in Section II.A. Taking my cue from many other scholars who are working in the field of comparative constitutional law,406See, e.g., Vicki C. Jackson, Constitutional Engagement in a Transnational Era 1–15 (2010) (defending an approach of comparative constitutional “engagement”); Tushnet, supra note 20, at 1228, 1285–1306 (defending drawing on constitutional law comparison through a process of “bricolage”); Choudhry, supra note 251, at 835–38 (articulating a theory of “dialogic” constitutional comparison). my view is also that we should take the middle road between these poles with respect to comparative administrative law. However, because of (1) what I take to be the real potential costs of shallowness, cherry-picking, excessive universalism and, at this time at least, abuse of comparative administrative law;407See supra Section II.D. (2) because the field of comparative administrative law, at least in America, is admittedly only at initial stages of being revived (after years of lying dormant);408See supra Section I.C. and (3) because the field of administrative law appeared to have gone through a more qualified process of globalization than constitutional law did (which makes comparative administrative law potentially more complex and challenging),409See supra Section II.B. the approach I endorse here is somewhat closer to the particularist pole. It emphasizes more of the so-called “ideology of difference.”410See Schönberger, supra note 272.

I will call the approach I have in mind a modest and experimentalist one. And under it, comparative administrative law should proceed from a position of caution. This means that in doing comparative administrative law both analysts and practitioners should be expected to be highly contextual. They cannot assume too readily similarities amongst systems, notwithstanding the globalization trend and the observed cross-national fluidity in divergences between administrative laws and states. Assuming something like this would clearly be shallow and thus impermissible. And it would be inappropriate given the real likelihood of errors and problematic selection effects, among other things. Instead, comparative administrative law calls on those who perform it to seriously work through the dimensions of potential difference between nation-states—whether they are in law, politics, culture, or any other relevant dimension—to identify how things that appear the same may not necessarily be so. This also means that comparative administrative law’s most natural and secure use, if not purely historical or genealogical, is mostly as a source of self-reflection and critique.

That said, a modest and experimentalist approach to comparative administrative law doesn’t completely shy away from making recommendations for useful reforms based on comparative law—influencing the institutions of administrative law directly or the overall legal culture in which those institutions (or the administrative state more broadly) are embedded. It is just that such an approach insists again on caution. More specifically, this approach insists that the following four conditions be met before any institutional reform or cultural move should be taken seriously:

First, that there would be good reasons to think that the cross-jurisdictional differences that help explain sources of difference may not be that substantial. That, in other words, when looked at context sufficiently, there is a basis for assuming some measure of substantial similarity, including because of processes of globalization and fluidity that already occurred in the administrative law space (or for any other reason).

Second, a modest and experimentalist approach insists that before any more reformist or transformative move is explicitly made or is taken seriously, the comparator would point out reasons, rooted in the particularities of the domestic system, that would support such a move. These reasons must of course pay attention to the overall domestic administrative law legal framework, whatever that may be. But they should go as much as is sensible and possible beyond that—again, to the general political, cultural, and institutional environment in which the administrative framework is embedded, too. To be clear, this is not to say that comparators cannot rely on more universalistic reasons or on the already occurring processes of administrative law fluidity and globalization discussed before. In a more global environment, which builds on cross-national cooperation, this may sometimes be desirable. However, a modest approach does insist that reliance on these elements would importantly be intermediated by a keen sense of understanding of the possibility of national administrative differences. It also insists that the values inherent in administrative law pluralism (and the risks of excessive or, at a minimum, too rapid universalism) would be recognized.

Third, a modest and experimentalist approach to comparative administrative law requires that drawing on foreign solutions as either inspiration for direct reforms or as a means of cultural transformation isn’t likely to be abusive and severely undermine the basic constitutional function, or the “minimum core,” of the administrative law project in the destination jurisdiction. This means, as the previous Section suggested, that the use of comparative law can’t bring about (or wouldn’t be highly likely to bring about) one of two possible results: It can’t, for one thing, cause a situation whereby the reception of the foreign institution or rule (even if adapted) would in effect deny the existence of an administrative state or some form of “supplementary bureaucratic law making in the ongoing regulatory enterprise.”411Bruce Ackerman, The New Separation of Powers, 113 Harv. L. Rev. 633, 696 (2000). Indeed, an overall system of law that does not account at all for the possibility of an administrative state is, under current conditions, “inadequate to contemporary law.”412Brian Z. Tamanaha, A Realistic Theory of Law 126 (2017). At the same time, the exportation of an administrative law solution from someplace else that would ultimately make the administrative state an effective “black box,” one that cannot be penetrated especially by democratic critique and voice, would be impermissible as well. It will create a true “deep state” that is similarly beyond any reasonable project of a democratic and liberal administrative law.

Finally, and even if a comparative analogy has crossed the threshold of sufficient contextualism, domestic justification, and non-abusiveness, a modest and experimentalist approach to administrative law comparison insists that drawing on the foreign solution as suggesting direct reforms or as a basis for a move to transform a given culture should be done experimentally. Of course, the invocation of administrative law comparison as a form of dispersing information and knowledge can, in itself, be an important technique for achieving reform and cultural transformation. And, certainly when the information circulated abides by the previous conditions of this modest approach to comparative administrative law, it is always fine.

But the experimentalism label does take a more concrete meaning when one draws on comparative law to cause more immediate change in legal institutions. More specifically, an experimentalist approach endorses one of two options. The first option is to draw on the foreign solution in administrative law only incrementally, in small steps.413See Michael Asimow, A Comparative Approach to Administrative Adjudication, in The Oxford Handbook of Comparative Administrative Law 577, 591 (Peter Cane et al. eds., 2021). This means that those who seek to draw on foreign law should, for example, let it “percolate” for a while in domestic administrative law discourse before making any further concrete moves.414For a discussion of the value of percolation more broadly in law, see Michael Coenen & Seth Davis, Percolation’s Value, 73 Stan. L. Rev. 363, 368–69 (2021) (distinguishing between informational and institutional values of percolation). Alternatively, if not wait for percolation, those who seek to draw on comparative administrative law should at least limit the scope or immediate implications of the reliance on the foreign solution until more experience is accumulated. Only then, if the experience is supportive and confirms the desirability of the initial comparative inspiration, further expansions can occur. The second experimentalist option, by contrast, permits to move quickly rather than gradually. It allows, in other words, to lean more forcefully on the foreign source and adopt it domestically, without the limitations of incrementalism. At the same time, however, this second option insists that it would be both possible and easy to quickly reverse and change course if that leap of faith is ultimately discovered, once facts and experience are gathered, to be ill-advised in hindsight.415See, e.g., Charles F. Sabel & William H. Simon, Destabilization Rights: How Public Law Litigation Succeeds, 117 Harv. L. Rev. 1016, 1019 (2004) (developing an argument that adjudication in public law should regularly involve moves that stabilize and destabilize and more broadly guarantee trial and error in the law).

***

To be absolutely clear: this is not a panacea. Even under the modest and experimentalist approach I have outlined here, mistakes will be made, and reasonable disagreements about how precisely to apply that approach and what it yields in specific cases will surely surface. Nonetheless, at this stage of the development of the field, this approach does seem to provide a general outline or heuristic for productive and responsible comparative administrative law engagement. Guided by this modest and experimentalist attitude, the likelihood of reviving comparative administrative law and accruing its benefits (rather than its costs) seems much more secure.

III.  ILLUSTRATIONS

Saying is often easier than doing. And so, this Part goes beyond the saying and into the “doing” of comparative administrative law. More concretely, this Part zooms-in on two doctrinal domains within our administrative law to illustrate the kinds of payoffs we can derive from reviving comparative administrative law (in general) and from the modest and experimentalist approach to performing it that Part II has defended (in particular).

It should go without saying the domains I will be focusing on here are not the only administrative law domains that would benefit from taking on a comparative lens. And in the discussion that will soon begin in earnest, I will only be able to draw on a relatively small selection of jurisdictions, such as the U.K., Canada, Italy, France, Israel, Germany, and the European Union. But given the present state of marginalization of the field of administrative law comparison, we must start somewhere. And my hope is that the doctrinal domains that I will be centering on here are sufficiently central, and the benefits from the comparative discussion are sufficiently meaningful, that these illustrations will help encourage in the future more work in comparative administrative law. That work, in turn, will hopefully expand our horizons even further and farther—both thematically and geographically.

Section III.A, immediately below, zeros-in first on the law regulating the use of non-legislative rules or, as they’re more widely known today, certainly in the U.S., guidance documents. Section III.B then takes on Chevron deference. It critiques Justice Gorsuch’s opinion in Buffington that invoked comparative administrative law to undermine Chevron, exposing its shallow, cherry-picky, and abusive nature. And it suggests how the Court’s future analysis, either in Loper Bright and Relentless or, more likely perhaps, well beyond, as well as the entire domestic administrative law community could usefully draw on comparative administrative law to both rectify Buffington’s failures in the short-term and more productively reflect on the future of Chevron deference in the longer term.

A.  Domesticating Administrative Guidance

1.  Some Background

Here’s a story everyone familiar with American administrative law can surely now recite. That story is about the American administrative state’s evolution.416For a terrific exposition, see Reuel E. Schiller, Rulemaking’s Promise: Administrative Law and Legal Culture in the 1960s and 1970s, 53 Admin. L. Rev. 1139, 1143–55 (2001). And it proceeds in two steps. In the first step, administrative agencies regulated in ways not so different from common law courts. That is, agencies drew on adjudications. Beginning in the 1960s and 1970s, however, things gradually changed. Agencies turned to regulate not as if they were courts and on an individual, case-by-case basis, but rather as if they were legislatures—that is, through the issuance of legislative rules.417Id. at 1141. Most clearly, they used the process skeletally described in the APA for informal rulemaking or notice-and-comment rules.418See 5 U.S.C. § 553. This process includes a publication of notice on a proposed rule, accepting comments from the wider public about the rule, and then publishing a final version of the rule that responds to the comments.

Today, rules are often described as the “core policymaking apparatus within the administrative state.”419Bridget C.E. Dooling & Rachel Augustine Potter, Rulemaking by Contract, 74 Admin. L. Rev. 703, 705 (2022). And they are celebrated as “one of the greatest inventions of modern government.”420See Levin, supra note 129, at 324 (quoting Kenneth Culp Davis). But this story has a very big hole in it. It’s incomplete at best. For in addition to legislative rules, another trend seems evident today: agencies’ turn not to legislative rules but to nonlegislative rules or, as they’re more widely known today, guidance documents.

Guidance is an extraordinarily diverse category. And it is both similar to and different from rules. Like rules, guidance is also general and prospective. The use of guidance is not going back to the pre-1960s and 1970s world of regulatory decision-making by adjudications. But unlike rules, guidance doesn’t have the full “force of law.” Its key characteristic, in other words, is its provisionality. Agencies can quickly issue guidance and change it because, as the APA says, guidance documents are exempt from the notice-and-comment process.421See 5 U.S.C. § 553(b)(3)(A). In this Article, I refer mostly to guidance as the category of documents the APA describes as “general statements of policy.” The second related category that the APA deals with and provides an exemption for are “interpretative rules,” which raise a different suite of questions than I am able to address here. For an argument that interpretative rules should be treated in similar ways to “general statements of policy,” see Ronald M. Levin, Rulemaking and the Guidance Exemption, 70 Admin. L. Rev. 263, 315–51 (2018). Moreover, to formally enforce guidance, agencies cannot just rely on it as is. Rather, they would need to crystalize it in a separate “final” agency action, such as an enforcement decision.422See, e.g., Chrysler Corp. v. Brown, 441 U.S. 281, 301–02, 302 n.31 (1979) (highlighting that the difference between rules and guidance is that the latter lacks the force of law).

Within our administrative state, guidance is “oceanic.”423Nicholas R. Parrillo, Federal Agency Guidance: An Institutional Perspective, Report for the Administrative Conference of the United States 35 (2017), https://www.acus.gov/sites/default/files/documents/parrillo-agency-guidance-final-report.pdf [https://perma.cc/WMB9-TAB2]. The number of guidance documents available now “dwarf[s] that of actual regulations by a factor of twenty, forty, or even two hundred.”424Nicholas R. Parrillo, Federal Agency Guidance and the Power to Bind: An Empirical Study of Agencies and Industries, 36 Yale J. on Regul. 165, 167–68 (2019). In short, instead of a world of “rules, rules, rules”425Ho, supra note 327, at 78. we may more accurately be living in a world of “guidance, guidance, guidance.” We have entered a potential third step in our administrative state’s evolution.

The use of guidance has clear advantages in the administrative state. It can serve an important function of “internal administrative law”—a tool by which agency principals can streamline, control, or guide inferiors to make sure that general agency policies are consistently enforced and that the overall level of decisional quality is adequate, for example.426For an interesting analysis and revival of the concept of “internal administrative law,” see Gillian E. Metzger & Kevin M. Stack, Internal Administrative Law, 115 Mich. L. Rev. 1239, 1249–50 (2017). From the perspective of the public itself, guidance can serve important rule of law values, such as notice, or as a means for translating sometimes highly complicated technical documents to much simpler language (as an act of “official helpfulness,” so to speak). Most ambitiously, and most in line with the third-step evolutionary story, guidance can be seen as the optimal regulatory tool in today’s administrative state, far surpassing the attractiveness of rules. After all, in a world such as ours where empirical and normative uncertainty is vast and knowledge is dispersed, agencies that aim to move more tentatively and with a willingness to learn “on the go” from experience will quite naturally be drawn, and perhaps should more regularly be drawn, to regulation by guidance.427For arguments suggesting that guidance should have this more ambitious role in the administrative state, see Jeremy Kessler & Charles Sabel, The Uncertain Future of Administrative Law, 150 Dædalus 188, 188–93 (2021); Tim Wu, Agency Threats, 60 Duke L.J. 1841, 1848–54 (2011) (defending the use of guidance as a form of ideal threats under conditions of high uncertainty).

But guidance also carries with it genuine risks. Guidance, in other words, also calls for its “domestication.”428I draw the term from Strauss, supra note 51, at 768–73. For one thing, though guidance is supposed to be in some key sense provisional, there is a concern that in practice it won’t be so. That, in other words, it will act as though it has the full force of law, either because the agency itself will rigidly treat it that way429See Robert A. Anthony, Interpretive Rules, Policy Statements, Guidances, Manuals, and the Like—Should Federal Agencies Use Them to Bind the Public?, 41 Duke L.J. 1311, 1316–17 (1992) (arguing that agencies are prone to treat guidance as binding even though they are not supposed to). or because regulated parties, and broader features of the regulatory environment and culture, will effectively make it so.430See Parrillo, supra note 424, at 265 (arguing that the binding nature of guidance stems less from strategic or problematic agency behavior but rather from the regulatory environment itself). If that’s the case, though, guidance will not only lose its justification as such; but it will also have the additional effect of circumventing the notice-and-comment process. As Justice Kagan once remarked, it would be an “end run around [it.]”431Oral Argument at 11:27 (Dec. 1, 2024), Perez v. Mortg. Bankers Ass’n, 575 U.S. 92 (2015) (No. 13-1041), https://www.oyez.org/cases/2014/13-1041 [https://perma.cc/D6E2-7HLV] (comments made by Justice Elena Kagan). A second risk that arises with respect to guidance is that, even if it is importantly provisional rather than excessively rigid as if it were firm law, administrative guidance will still clearly have important effects on behavior. Indeed, the whole point is that guidance would have such behavioral effects or otherwise it would not have its supposed advantages. But, if guidance has these effects, there is a substantial risk that the guidance would be legally defective or arbitrary in ways that would matter well before the agency finalizes its actions based on it (if it ever will). As a result, there is at least some persuasive case for controlling the risks of guidance in advance of its final enforcement.432Both from the perspective of a regulated industry that might not have the ability to resist abiding by the guidance before it is even tested in court, and perhaps more importantly, by regulatory beneficiaries who may consider the guidance to be too lenient. For emphasis on this last concern, see generally Nina A. Mendelson, Regulatory Beneficiaries and Informal Agency Policymaking, 92 Cornell L. Rev. 397 (2007).

As things now stand, our law has chosen one particular path to respond to the first concern triggered by guidance. More concretely, recognizing the potential for guidance to become rigid and rule-like, and an “end run” around notice-and-comment, lower courts have adopted the “practically binding” test to sort between valid and invalid guidance.433See Sunstein, supra note 52, at 496–97, 513–15; Levin, supra note 421, at 273–75 (describing the “practically binding” test as the “binding norm” test). Under this test, petitioners can bring a suit against agency guidance claiming that because it is “practically binding” it is, in fact, a rulemaking in disguise. And, if their claim is successful, courts will invalidate the guidance document and require it, because it is a rule, to go through the regular notice-and-comment procedure.434See Sunstein, supra note 52, at 496–97.

In stark contrast, our law has so far been much less responsive to the second concern. Though there is case law from the Supreme Court and lower courts that suggest a much more pragmatic approach to the requirements of “finality” (and ripeness) in administrative law, which would allow courts to review on a pre-enforcement basis at least some guidance documents for legal defects and arbitrariness even if they are not “practically binding,”435See, e.g., FTC v. Standard Oil Co. of Cal., 449 U.S. 232, 239 (1980) (highlighting, partly on the basis of prior case law, including Abbot Labs v. Gardner, 387 U.S. 136, 140 (1967), how the approach to the finality requirement is meant to be “flexible” and “pragmatic”); Ciba-Geigy Corp. v. EPA, 801 F.2d 430, 435–36 (D.C. Cir. 1986) (iterating that the approach to finality is indeed “flexible” and “pragmatic”). the dial seems to have turned. A more formalistic or “legalistic” trend seems quite common, especially in the lower courts,436See, e.g., CEC Energy Co. v. Pub. Serv. Comm. of the Virgin Islands, 891 F.2d 1107, 1110 (3d Cir. 1989) (listing, among the requirements for recognizing an agency’s action as “final,” an inquiry into whether “the [agency’s] decision has status as law” which would in effect eliminate the possibility of the pre-enforcement reviewability of guidance that isn’t practically binding); Minard Run Oil Co. v. U.S. Forest Serv., 670 F.3d 236, 248 (3d Cir. 2011) (requiring as a condition for satisfying the “finality” requirement actions that are accompanied by immediate formal legal effects, like “serious penalties attached to noncompliance,” with the end result of excluding pre-enforcement review of guidance); Tenn. Valley Auth. v. Whitman, 336 F.3d 1236, 1248 (11th Cir. 2003) (determining that the fact that the guidance has effects that make it equivalent to a rule with a force of law is “mandatory” for a plaintiff to satisfy the requirement of “finality” under the APA). which tends to deny the reviewability of guidance on a pre-enforcement basis just because it is guidance that lacks, definitionally, the force of law.437For some potential, and, in the view defended here, desirable change in more recent jurisprudence, see infra note 589 and accompanying text. As it now stands, the only secure way one can get guidance to the point of judicial review is by drawing on the “practically binding” test or by waiting up to the point of enforcement.

Not surprisingly, this situation has triggered calls for change. On one hand, some—mostly on the right of politics—emphasize the risks of abusing guidance as a form of “shadow regulation” and “arm-twisting” outside the constricts of notice-and-comment.438See, e.g., Anthony, supra note 429, at 1373–74 (criticizing the use of guidance documents with practical binding effects as a subversion of the notice-and-comment rulemaking process); Philip Hamburger, Is Administrative Law Unlawful? 260 (2014) (arguing that guidance is a means of “extortion,” imposing “under-the-table threats of . . . judicial nature”); Lars Noah, Administrative Arm-Twisting in the Shadow of Congressional Delegations of Authority, 1997 Wis. L. Rev. 873, 874. They thus call on courts to hone in on guidance and more severely constrain its potential abuse, including by continuing its enforcement of the “practically binding” test (and even tightening it further), as well as to broaden the possibilities for pre-enforcement review of guidance’s potential illegality and arbitrariness.439See, e.g., Richard A. Epstein, The Role of Guidance in Modern Administrative Procedure: The Case for De Novo Review, 8 J. Legal Analysis 47, 49 (2016). These calls also provide impetus for the political branches to take ambitious steps to limit the use of guidance documents.440See, e.g., Memorandum from the Attorney General on Prohibition on Improper Guidance Documents 1 (Nov. 16, 2017), https://www.justice.gov/opa/press-release/file/1012271/dl [https://perma.cc/4KQZ-P34Z] (mandating that guidance documents should not be used “for the purpose of coercing persons or entities outside the federal government”).

On the other hand, others, mostly on the political left and center, have recently taken a dramatically different view. While they too recognize the potential risks of guidance, they also don’t believe that judicial review is the right way to go, so to speak, to immunize against the relevant risks. In their eyes, courts have done quite badly on this front. Litigation over the “practically binding” test has, it is believed, proven too erratic and confusing, and the courts’ approach too skeptical about the legitimate uses of guidance.441This is, for instance, the view of Nicholas R. Parrillo, Gillian Metzger, and Kevin Stack. See Parrillo, supra note 424, at 167–68; Metzger & Stack, supra note 426, at 1295 (arguing that “courts should abandon their current approach of treating agency attempts to bind internal agency officials as grounds for characterizing an agency rule as a legislative rule requiring notice and comment.”). The expansion of reviewability of guidance on legality and arbitrariness grounds at the pre-enforcement stage is also, for many of them, out of the question.442See Metzger & Stack, supra note 426, at 1295–96 (arguing that “courts should not treat guidance that aims to structure agency discretion as necessarily triggering review under APA section 5” and that “[j]udges rarely have expertise or institutional competency in identifying good internal management structures or understanding internal agency dynamics”). To domesticate guidance, as this view suggests, we largely need to look outside of the courts and to bureaucratic, industry, and civil society practices (and incentives).443See Parrillo, supra note 424, at 181–84 (developing a managerial approach to hone in the risks of guidance, which he calls “principled flexibility” and which, at the end of the day, is perceived to be “largely beyond judicial competence”).

2.  Enter . . . Comparative Law

What might comparative law teach us about this highly conflicted, even polarized, but hugely consequential area of our administrative law?

The use of comparative law should not be entirely surprising in this context. Indeed, the modern turn to guidance as a key, perhaps leading, regulatory tool in today’s administrative state is not a distinctively American phenomenon. It exists elsewhere, too. In spades. For example, France, Germany, and Italy also seem to have adopted, with increasing force and intensity, the use of administrative guidance as an “intermediate” solution between “discretionary and bound administration.”444G. della Cananea, The ‘Core’ of Administrative Law: An Outsider’s View, Brit. Ass’n of Compar. L. (May 27, 2022), https://british-association-comparative-law.org/2022/05/27/the-core-of-administrative-law-an-outsiders-view-by-g-della-cananea/#_ftnref10 [https://perma.cc/C6QJ-W7QP]. On the recent increase in the use of guidance in German administrative law, see Matthias Knauff, Coronavirus and Soft Law in Germany: Business as Usual?, 12 Eur. J. Risk Regul. 45, 45–46 (2021); in Italian administrative law see Flaminia Aperio Bella, Christiana Lauri & Giorgio Capra, The Role of COVID-19 Soft Law Measures in Italy: Much Ado About Nothing?, 12 Eur. J. Risk Regul. 93, 93–94 (2021); and in French law, see Claude Barreix, Soft Law in the French Public Administration, 2 Advances Soc. Scis. Rsch. J. 111, 111 (2015). And guidance exists to a similar and growing extent in common law systems—including the U.K., Canada, and Australia,445For the U.K., see infra notes 448–61 and accompanying text. For Canada, see, e.g., Lorne Sossin & Chantelle van Wiltenburg, The Puzzle of Soft Law, 58 Osgoode Hall L.J. 623, 624–28 (2021). And for Australia, see generally Greg Weeks, Soft Law and Public Authorities: Remedies and Reform (2016). and perhaps most prominently now, in the European Union as well.446See, e.g., K.C. Wellens & G.M. Borchardt, Soft Law in European Community Law, 14 Eur. L. Rev. 267, 296–308 (1989) (describing the ascendency of soft law as a primary mean for advancing EU goals). See generally Research Handbook on Soft Law (Mariolina Eliantonio et al. eds., 2023). These diverse legal jurisdictions, very much like us, also often seem to be “puzzle[d]” by guidance and its appropriate treatment given its complex status as provisional yet highly impactful law in today’s administrative state.447See Sossin & van Wiltenburg, supra note 445 at 624.

How might these jurisdictions’ choices about how guidance should be domesticated illuminate our own? To respond to this question, let me dig a little bit deeper here into one specific jurisdiction before returning to a broader geographical context. Focus for the moment on what James Landis called “our British cousin[]”448Landis, supra note 99, at 1. from the “Anglo-American tradition” of administrative law: the U.K.

The U.K., like the U.S., has a hierarchy of norms. At the top stands primary legislation, which is passed by the two houses of the British parliament. Then, there is secondary legislation. Secondary legislation is formulated and passed by the executive after some form of parliamentary supervision is supplied, which can range from very minor (laying before parliament with no need for active approval) to more robust (requiring active approval by a parliamentary committee). The kind of supervision that applies to secondary legislation is prescribed in the U.K. in a statute—the Statutory Instruments Act.449Statutory Instruments Act 1946, 9 & 10 Geo. 6 c. 36 (U.K.). For an excellent and lucid summary of the state of parliamentary supervision of secondary legislation, see Jeff King, The Province of Delegated Legislation, in The Foundations and Future of Public Law: Essays in Honour of Paul Craig, supra note 27, at 145, 152–54. This Act also requires publication of secondary legislation. Finally, there is also the possibility of issuing guidance, though the term more familiar for it in the U.K. (and, for that matter, many other common law systems) is different and ranges from “quasi-legislation,” “soft law,” “policies,” “tertiary rules,” or sometimes—though it would have been absolutely confusing in the U.S. context—just “rules.”450See, e.g., Adam Perry, The Flexibility Rule in Administrative Law, 76 Cambridge L.J. 375, 375–78 (2017). Occasionally, the issuance of guidance in the U.K. is prescribed in statutes themselves. But sometimes decisionmakers have claimed that the power to issue guidance is simply inherent.

In 1944, the increased use of guidance by the administration in the U.K. was described as “recent.”451R.E. Megarry, Administrative Quasi-Legislation, 60 L.Q. Rev. 125, 126 (1944). By 1986, however, U.K. scholars began detecting a “discernible . . . retreat from [formal regulation] in favour of government by informal rules.”452Robert Baldwin & John Houghton, Circular Arguments: The Status and Legitimacy of Administrative Rules, 1986 Pub. L. 239, 239 (1986). Indeed, guidance is now a “fact of public life” in the U.K.453Richard Rawlings, Soft Law Never Dies, in The Cambridge Companion to Public Law 215, 215 (Mark Elliott & David Feldman eds., 2015). The number, variety, complexity, and impact of guidance in the U.K. again dwarfs that of formal regulations.454See, e.g., Robin Creyke & John McMillan, Soft Law v Hard Law, in Administrative Law in a Changing State 377, 377 (Linda Pearson, Carol Harlow & Michael Taggart eds., 2008). And, just as in the U.S., guidance in the U.K. also comes in a variety of forms, including codes of practice, circulars, directions, and rules, among other labels.455See Paul Craig, Administrative Law 399 (6th ed. 2008) (describing the various terms used in the U.K. to refer to guidance). The administrative state in the U.K. is likely well into its third step, just as we might be in America.

How did the law in the U.K. respond to this emergence and rise of guidance? As it happens, there has been quite a bit of change there.

The initial reaction to guidance and its “accretion”456Megarry, supra note 451, at 126. in the U.K. was quite negative. As one scholar described it, guidance’s “problems of legitimation” were much of what had been emphasized.457For this term, see Robert Baldwin, Governing with Rules: The Developing Agenda, in Administrative Law and Government Action: The Courts and Alternative Mechanisms of Review 157, 168 (Genevra Richardson & Hazel Genn eds., 1994). Guidance generally faced a “cold climate”458Christopher McCrudden, Codes in a Cold Climate: Administrative Rule Making by the Commission for Racial Equality, 51 Mod. L. Rev. 409, 438 (1988). and was looked at with “positive suspicion.”459H.W.R. Wade, Anglo-American Administrative Law: Some Reflections, 81 L.Q. Rev. 357, 377 (1965). The primary concern in the U.K. was not so far from our own concerns in America about guidance: that its increased use would essentially displace the reliance on proper primary or secondary legislation to direct behavior, thus circumventing Parliament or elected politicians more broadly.460See, e.g., Patchett v. Leathem (1948) 65 T.L.R. 69, 70 (“Whereas ordinary legislation, by passing through both Houses of Parliament or, at least, lying on the table of both Houses, is thus twice blessed, this type of so-called legislation [guidance] is at least four times cursed. First, it has seen neither House of Parliament; secondly, it is unpublished and is inaccessible . . . thirdly it is a jumble of provisions, legislative, administrative or directive in character, and sometimes difficult to disentangle one from the other; and fourthly, it is expressed not in the precise language of an Act of Parliament . . . but in the more colloquial language of correspondence, which is not always susceptible of the ordinary canons of construction.”). As one contemporary commentator in the U.K. captured the issue, memorably: guidance seems like no less than a “retreat from law.”461See generally Satvinder S. Juss, Rule-Making and the Immigration Rules—A Retreat from Law?, 13 Statute L. Rev. 150 (1992).

The manifestation of this initial negativity toward guidance in the U.K. wasn’t, as we might have expected from our own experience with the APA, the Statutory Instruments Act. As it happens, courts in the U.K. have taken a rather simpleminded approach early on to the classification of what is to be considered secondary legislation and thus subject to the parliamentary scrutiny and publication requirements of the Act, and what is not. That simplistic approach simply looked at how the executive itself defines its legal actions. Only those actions that were explicitly recognized by the executive as statutory instruments would be subject to the Act.462See Craig, supra note 455, at 367 (describing this simpleminded approach to the Statutory Instruments Act).

With this path blocked, the initial positive suspicion toward guidance found its way into law in the U.K. through a different route, more deeply within the common law tradition. That route was the so-called “no-fettering” principle that courts in the U.K. innovatively embraced.463See, e.g., Chris Hilson, Policies, the Non-Fetter Principle and the Principle of Substantive Legitimate Expectations: Between a Rock and a Hard Place?, 11 Jud. Rev. 289, 289–90 (2006). The classic statement of the “no fettering” principle stems from R v. Port of London Authority, ex p Kynoch, Ltd.  [1919] 1 KB 176, 184. This principle established in administrative law across the U.K. a relatively strong presumption that discretion must be retained in areas where legislation or secondary legislation allow for it. Discretion, in other words, can’t presumptively be “fettered” by the issuance of guidance. Such fettering could only occur through hard law—that is, through primary or secondary legislation.464Unless, of course, parliament clearly authorized differently.

And, indeed, courts in the U.K. at first implemented this suspicious presumption toward guidance quite forcefully and ambitiously. It was not uncommon, for example, to find a court invalidating guidance as such based the “no-fettering principle,” seeing it as per se illegal.465See Hyman v. Rose [1912] AC 623 (HL) 631 (appeal taken from Eng.). For a supportive academic view of this sort of treatment, see R.F.V. Heuston, Policy and Discretion in Licensing Cases, 15 Mod. L. Rev. 353, 354 (1952) (describing guidance as a “local self-imposed law” rather than “the general law of the land”) . Alternatively, courts in the U.K. would occasionally deprive guidance of any real content. They did so by insisting, invoking the “non-fettering principle,” that decisionmakers could use guidance as at most one relevant consideration in their decisions.466See Mark Elliott & Jason N.E. Varuhas, Administrative Law: Text and Materials 175 (5th ed. 2017) (citing Stringer v. Minister of Hous. and Loc. Gov’t [1970] 1 WLR 1281; Merchandise Transport Ltd. v. British Transport Comm’n [1962] 2 QB 173; and Sagnata Investments Ltd. v. Norwich Corp. [1971] 2 QB 614). Alternatively, invoking the “no-fettering principle” once again, courts in the U.K. required agencies to conduct an individualized, full-blown hearing in each and every case where a decisionmaker was seeking to apply prior guidance.467See generally, e.g., R v. Port of London Auth., ex p Kynoch, Ltd. [1919] 1 KB 176.

As should be clear, this was a highly restrictive approach. It basically emptied guidance from much of what makes it attractive as a tool of internal administrative law or as a platform for building experimentalist regulation, for example. In many ways, the approach in the U.K. during this initial stage seems even stricter than the practice by which courts invalidate guidance today in America for being “practically binding.”468See, e.g., Levin, supra note 421, at 296 (describing how lower courts implementing the “practical[ly] binding” test sometimes show more pragmatism); Parrillo, supra note 424, at 171 n.20 (highlighting the fact that the jurisprudence of lower courts in applying the “practically binding” test tends to give most of the weight to the use of mandatory language in guidance documents).

But then the approach in the U.K. to domesticating guidance dramatically changed. In an important case called British Oxygen, the House of Lords—then the U.K.’s apex court—ushered in a new era with respect to the domestication of guidance.469British Oxygen Co. v. Minister of Tech. [1971] AC 610 (HL) 624 (appeal taken from Eng.). British Oxygen disavowed the previous approach that viewed guidance as either entirely illegal or something that can at most be used as one consideration among many as a condition for its validity (or if it is subject to individualized hearings).470See Aileen McHarg, Administrative Discretion, Administrative Rule-Making, and Judicial Review, 70 Current Legal Probs. 267, 272 (2017). Instead, British Oxygen created, in effect, what seems like a reverse presumption: that guidance is legal so long as there are conditions that allow decisionmakers to “listen[] to any applicant who has something new to say.”471R (Gujra) (FC) v. Crown Prosecution Service [2012] UKSC 52 [76], [2013] 1 AC 484. In other words, all decisionmakers need to do to make guidance presumptively legal is to show that there are paths for at least considering the need for exceptions.472See also Christopher Chiam, The Future of the Fettering Rule in Judicial Review, 38 U. Tas. L. Rev. 27, 28 (2019) (describing how policies and guidance are now legal so long as they’re used flexibly).

With the House of Lords’ judgement in British Oxygen, the judicial barriers in English law to the use of guidance have been significantly lifted. Guidance could be freely issued, and even given a substantial role in administrative decision-making, without immediate fear of judicial hostility. Since British Oxygen, guidance has been clearly seen as part of “good administration.”473British Oxygen Co. v. Minister of Tech. [1971] AC 610 (HL) 624 (appeal taken from Eng.). In a separate line of cases, U.K. courts have even clarified that issuance of guidance doesn’t require explicit statutory authorization; such authorization is indeed almost always implied in governing statutes.474See, e.g., R (New London Coll. Ltd.) v. Sec’y of State for the Home Dep’t [2013] UKSC 51 [18], [2013] 1 WLR 2358.

All that didn’t mean, though, that courts in the U.K. have entirely retreated from the fray of domesticating guidance. The “no-fettering principle” and its potential to erect difficulties to guidance did not die with British Oxygen. Rather, the principle has now been transformed. Instead of acting as a strong presumption against its use—making any guidance that seems to bind discretion outside of the process of primary or secondary legislation immediately suspect—the no-fettering principle has become a way for judges to review, in concrete cases, whether the degree of fettering (or bindingness) expressed by guidance is a permissible one in the circumstances at hand—a true incident of “good administration” rather than abuse.475See, e.g., Shona Wilson Stark, Non-Fettering, Legitimate Expectations and Consistency of Policy: Separate Compartments or Single Principle?, in The Frontiers of Public Law 443, 444 (Jason Varuhas & Shona Wilson Stark eds., 2020) (remarking that the principle of non-fettering is highly individualistic and encourages “all features of every individual case to be taken into account.”).

As one prominent commentator reports, in applying this newly transformed and highly flexible version of the “no-fettering principle,” courts in the U.K. largely tend to look at the “substantive nature of the decision to be made” as well as the overall “administrative context.”476McHarg, supra note 470, at 273. And unsurprisingly, the results in various cases therefore tend to highly diverge. In some cases, such as those that involve high-volume adjudication477See, e.g., William Wade & Christopher Forsyth, Administrative Law 276 (11th ed. 2014) (noting how courts in the U.K. are much more at ease in seeing binding guidance in the context of high-volume decision-making). or when there’s a strong need for controlling large and dispersed lower-level decisionmakers, courts in the U.K. have acknowledged the legitimacy of a high degree of fettering of discretion via guidance—with very little need for exception and individuation.478See, e.g., R (S) v. Chief Constable of Yorkshire [2004] UKHL 39 (upholding, under the no-fettering principle, a general policy of retaining fingerprint and DNA samples because it was regarded as unrealistic and impractical to require each case to be examined individually). Indeed, in these circumstances, even “blanket policies” were ruled as legally permissible.479McHarg, supra note 470 at 275–76 (discussing the possibility that even blanket policies will survive judicial review under the no-fettering principle). In fact, in an astonishing reversal from the initial approach to the “no fettering principle,” in some cases courts in the U.K. have even suggested that the issuance of guidance might be mandatory; that strong fettering would be required as a matter of law.480See, e.g., Nzolameso v. City of Westminster [2015] UKSC 22 [40], [2015] 2 All ER 942; see also McHarg, supra note 470 at 288 (discussing the ascendancy of a law mandating the use of guidance in the U.K.). The “no-fettering principle,” in other words, has sometimes been transformed in the U.K. into what two leading scholars have dubbed a positive “fettering rule.”481Elliott & Varuhas, supra note 466, at 181.

By contrast, in issues in which fragile interests seem to be at stake, courts in the U.K. have ruled that a high level of individuation rather than fettering would indeed be required. Alternatively, they have ruled that decisionmakers need to do more to make sure that they remain open-minded and able to make either exceptions or total revisions to policies inscribed in guidance (including by actively encouraging applications for revisions).482See McHarg, supra note 470, at 273–74 (mentioning case law on child welfare or refugees as examples of areas which courts in the U.K. have seen as highly sensitive and that would thus require a high level of individuation); Att’y Gen. ex rel Tilley v. The Mayor and Burgesses of the London Borough of Wandsworth [1981] 1 WLR 854 (Eng.).

In short, administrative law in the U.K. has seen a crucial transition with respect to the meaning and application of the “no-fettering principle” as a restraint on the use of administrative guidance. From a rigid administrative law ground that invalidated such guidance whenever it “fetters” (or binds) discretion in any meaningful sense, the no-fettering has transformed into a much gentler tool, one that evaluates the reasonableness of the degree of fettering expressed in the guidance and the administrative regime it builds in particular contexts.

But this still leaves another important question yet unresolved: At what point in time would this judicial review of guidance under the transformed “no-fettering principle” in the U.K. be allowed? And what about other potential defects in guidance documents, such as illegality or arbitrariness? Could courts in the U.K. review them on a pre-enforcement basis? Or would these issues have to wait until the guidance is actually applied in a more formalized, final legal action? As we have seen,483See supra notes 435–37 and accompanying text. this is another crucial issue for guidance domestication, one on which U.S. law has recently given a very particular legalistic/formalistic response: for pre-enforcement review, pretty clearly no.484See infra notes 485–91 and accompanying text.

As it happens, here, too, there has been a significant evolution in U.K. administrative law. At first, the idea of facial reviewability of guidance prior to its application in individual circumstances was anathema in the U.K., at least on grounds other than the previously discussed “no-fettering principle.” Indeed, initially, courts were wedded to the idea that review (or “jurisdiction,” as it is sometimes called in the U.K.) is crucially reliant on whether the action creates legal rights and obligations. Guidance, law in the U.K. implied, was not perceived as creating such. Review of guidance, at least when it is not impermissibly fettering, would thus be too abstract. As one senior commentator put it, allowing such pre-enforcement, abstract review would cause judicial review to “burst through its logical boundaries.”485H.W.R. Wade, Judicial Review of Ministerial Guidance, 102 L.Q. Rev. 173, 175 (1986).

Yet in an important case called Gillick,486Gillick v. West Norfolk and Wisbech Area Health Authority [1986] AC 112 (HL) 112 (appeal taken from Eng.). fifteen years after British Oxygen, the House of Lords again dramatically changed tack. In Gillick, the House of Lords clarified that even though allowing review of guidance on a pre-enforcement basis is a “significant extension of the court’s power of judicial review,” there are circumstances where it would and should be allowed.487Id. at 193. After all, the regime initiated by British Oxygen with the “no-fettering principle” now recognizes the possibility that guidance can have significant effects even if it is more provisional than hard law. As a result, extending judicial review was a natural progression.

After Gillick, then, courts in the U.K. became much more “proactive” than they previously were.488See John Laws, Judicial Remedies and the Constitution, 57 Mod. L. Rev. 213, 219 (1994). Judicial review has exactly burst through its previous logical bounds (showing, perhaps, yet again, that the life of the law isn’t really “logic”).489Cf. Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., The Common Law 5 (Routledge 2019) (1881) (“The life of the law has not been logic: it has been experience.”); Wade, supra note 485, at 175. However, the precise circumstances where courts in the U.K. would allow review of guidance on this pre-enforcement basis remained somewhat unclear after the House of Lords’ judgment. Acknowledging that its move was exceptional and fraught, Gillick spoke about the need for caution and to allow review on that basis in limited cases.490See Elliott & Varuhas, supra note 466, at 526. For example, Gillick limited that form of review to clear errors of law.491Gillick v. West Norfolk and Wisbech Area Health Auth. [1986] AC 112, 192–94 (HL) (appeal taken from Eng.). It also spoke about the need for courts to disallow this review when issues of morality are at stake (as they were in Gillick).492At issue in Gillick was guidance issued by a health agency with respect to the use of contraceptives. Id. at 112–13. Today, however, scholars in the U.K. seem to agree that this restrictive approach has given way. As one commentator has observed, review of guidance on this pre-enforcement basis post-Gillick is now “regularly” granted.493See McHarg, supra note 470, at 284; see also R (Pfizer Ltd.) v. Sec’y of State for Health [1999] EWHC (Admin) 504 [26]. And it is granted for what appears like a variety of claims, including the illegality of the guidance (for example, whether it correlates with any statutory dictates), its correlation with the “no-fettering principle” (flexibly applied as discussed before), and, finally, the substantive reasonableness of the guidance—which is the U.K.’s equivalent to our own somewhat unique arbitrariness review under the APA.

To be sure, this generosity with respect to pre-enforcement review of guidance under administrative law in the U.K. is not assured. Courts in the U.K. occasionally do flex their muscles. But as things stand today, it seems safe to say that pre-enforcement review would most likely be granted at least if courts view the underlying issue as possessing “sufficient public importance.”494David Elvin, Hypothetical, Academic and Premature Challenges, 11 Jud. Rev. 307, 324 (2006). So, for example, in a case called Royal College of Nursing (“RCN”), which Gillick heavily relied on, the House of Lords emphasized the reality that the content of the guidance is going to affect “several thousand[]” procedures and is likely to be adhered to by the public as a reason for allowing pre-enforcement review.495Royal Coll. of Nursing of the U.K. v. Dep’t of Health and Soc. Sec. [1981] AC 800 (HL). In both Gillick and RCN, the House of Lords also emphasized the prospect of future sanctions from not following guidance, especially of the criminal variety, as support for its pre-enforcement reviewability.496Though, as Professors Elliott and Varuhas suggest, the inexistence of criminal sanctions is far from conclusive. Elliott & Varuhas, supra note 466, at 527 (citing R (UK Renderers Association Ltd.) v. Sec’y of State for the Env’t, Transp. and Regions [2001] EWHC (Admin) 675); see also Royal Coll. of Nursing of the U.K. [1981] AC 800 (HL); Gillick [1986] AC 112 (HL). And finally, in a recent judgment, the U.K. Supreme Court (which replaced the House of Lords as the country’s apex court) ruled that review of administrative guidance would be granted if it “imposes requirements which mean that it can be seen at the outset that a material and identifiable number of cases will be dealt with in an unlawful way.”497R (A) v. Sec’y of State for the Home Dep’t [2021] UKSC 37 [63], [2022] 1 All ER 177 (on appeal from Eng.). This judgment has practically overruled a previous test that was used by lower courts according to which review might be granted if a policy gives “rise to an unacceptable risk of unlawful decision-making.” R (Suppiah) v. Home Sec’y [2011] EWHC 2 (Admin) 2844 [135].

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Admittedly, this is a somewhat flat survey of extant law in the U.K. with respect to guidance domestication. But it should nonetheless prove provocative for present purposes. What it demonstrates is that the U.K. has landed on an approach to the domestication of guidance that seems importantly different than the American approach. First, courts in the U.K. no longer view guidance that binds as presumptively suspicious as U.S. law does. Indeed, they don’t fuss as we do about whether guidance is ‘“practically binding’” or not as a condition for its procedural validity and as a kind of surrogate safeguard for the potential abuse of the legislative or rulemaking process. Rather, courts in the U.K. easily recognize that guidance can permissibly fetter and indeed bind so long as it leaves genuine room for exceptions. Second, American and U.K. courts take a different approach to the timing of judicial review of guidance as well as to its substance. In the U.S., the approach today tends to be quite formalistic and legalistic. Guidance that is not “practically binding” will likely be reviewed only at the point when it is crystallized in a separate “final” and formal agency action. By contrast, in the U.K., the approach is much more consistently pragmatic and expansive. Courts in the U.K. do submit guidance that is sufficiently important (for example, because of its substantial practical effects or because of high likelihood for abuse) to review on a pre-enforcement basis notwithstanding that it lacks the force of law. And at that stage, courts in the U.K. also inquire not only into the sensibility and reasonableness of the degree of fettering (bindingness) in the particular guidance at hand but also into whether it suffers from any major illegality or arbitrariness defects.

3.  Lessons, Take I: Explaining and Justifying Differences

What can this comparison tell us?

As I have already argued, a sensible comparative approach to administrative law is a modest and experimentalist one.498See supra Section II.E. As such, it must always begin from a position of caution. That position recognizes that, despite increased globalization and cross-national administrative law fluidity, there remain differences that counsel against suggesting immediate similarity or against pointing too quickly in the way of administrative law reform based on comparative administrative law.

And indeed, it is not hard to think, certainly at surface level, of important differences between the U.S. and the U.K. These differences can explain the variance in our approaches to the domestication of guidance. Perhaps they can help justify it, too.

(a) The APA and general principles of administrative legitimacy: To begin, the current approach to guidance domestication in our system strongly relies on the APA. But, notwithstanding the general global trend, discussed above,499See supra Section II.B.2. of introducing administrative framework statutes (worldwide APAs), the U.K. still doesn’t have an APA-like statute. The Statutory Instruments Act is not a good analogy here. While it requires publication and parliamentary scrutiny of secondary legislation, it doesn’t require notice and, more importantly, a duty to receive and respond to comments from the public.500See, e.g., Bates v. Lord Halisham [1972] 1 WLR 1373, 1378 (“Many of those affected by delegated legislation, and affected very substantially, are never consulted in the process of enacting that legislation; and yet they have no remedy.”). Of course, the duty to respond extensively to comments doesn’t appear explicitly in the APA but is more an interpretation of it or an expression for an enduring “administrative common law” legacy in our administrative law. See, e.g., Ronald M. Levin, The Evolving APA and the Originalist Challenge, 97 Chi.-Kent L. Rev. 7, 22 (2022) (“The text of the APA, however, says nothing about a duty to respond to comments.”). In fact, the idea of general and broad public involvement in formulating general policies is traditionally viewed with deep skepticism in the U.K. Indeed, the animating legitimating principle of the administrative state in the U.K. is more traditionally political, relying on the normal representative democratic process, and particularly the accountability of the government and regulatory departments to parliament.501See Beatson, supra note 145, at 201–02 (highlighting the animating role of the principle of parliamentary sovereignty for the administrative state in the U.K.). The U.K. hasn’t traditionally centered on values that America today makes key as legitimating forces of its administrative state such as public deliberation or a desire to make the administrative process pluralistic and a surrogate for the democratic process writ large.502On the differences between the so-called Westminster model of administrative legitimacy, as exists in the U.K., which embraces the idea of parliamentary sovereignty, and the American model of administrative legitimacy that is more pluralistic and perhaps deliberative, see generally Andrew Edgar, The Westminster Model in Comparative Administrative Law: Incentives for Controls on Regulation-Making, 38 U. Tas. L. Rev. 47 (2019). This means that the values that would be fulfilled by the present American approach to domesticating guidance, which procedurally invalidates any guidance that “practically binds” to insist on a quasi-legislative and publicly open process, would not be the same in the U.K.

(b) Statutes v. common law: Furthermore, the Statutory Instruments Act also doesn’t have an APA equivalent that addresses judicial review and that explicitly speaks of a requirement of finality.503See 5 U.S.C. § 704. Rather, the changes in the jurisdictional boundaries of courts in the U.K., brought about by the House of Lords’ judgment in Gillick which, as we’ve seen, blessed pre-enforcement judicial review of guidance, occurred based on a “pure” common law background.504For further indication of the common law nature of Gillick, see Allison L. Young, Judicial Review of Policies—Clarification of a Judicial Retreat?, U.K. Const. L. Ass’n (Aug. 5, 2021), https://ukconstitutionallaw.org/2021/08/05/alison-l-young-judicial-review-of-policies-clarification-or-judicial-retreat [https://perma.cc/L9CW-HFH3] (discussing the recent developments in the case law fleshing out Gillick without any reference to any positive legal source). This, it might be thought, could be an important explanation for the variance in legal regimes as between the U.K. and the U.S. It makes the change that occurred in the U.K. to expand judicial review of guidance to the pre-enforcement stage potentially more legitimate or permissible compared to our system. Indeed, contrary to the United Kingdom, the U.S. currently seems more wedded to the need to abide by (or take very seriously) statutory law (as indicated by discussions expressing aversion to “administrative common law”).505See supra note 10 and accompanying text.

(c) Constitutional structure: The fact that the U.K. is a parliamentary system, not a presidential one, seems important here too. The British government used to possess relatively tight control of Parliament. This, coupled with the fact that the procedure for issuance of secondary legislation is regularly much more lenient than notice-and-comment (which is sometimes described as “ossif[ying]” the regulatory process),506See, e.g., Thomas O. McGarity, The Courts and the Ossification of Rulemaking: A Response to Professor Seidenfeld, 75 Tex. L. Rev. 525, 528 (1997) (citing Thomas O. McGarity, Some Thoughts on “Deossifying” the Rulemaking Process, 41 Duke L.J. 1385, 1385–86 (1992)). could mean that the incentives to abuse guidance to circumvent the normal legislative route are much weaker in the U.K. than they are in the U.S. As a result, a stricter approach to the domestication of guidance doesn’t seem to be similarly needed in the U.K. as it may be in America.507On the increased incentives to draw on subregulatory guidance given the challenges of policymaking in a presidential system and the difficulties with respect to rulemaking, see, e.g., Todd D. Rakoff, The Choice Between Formal and Informal Modes of Administrative Regulation, 52 Admin. L. Rev. 159, 163 (2000).

(d) Culture and politics: Cultural and political elements, broadly understood, may be relevant as well. As is sometimes noted, the U.K. didn’t seem to exhibit the same cultural aversion to bureaucracy as we exhibit in the U.S.508See, e.g., Taggart, supra note 166, at 613 (describing the U.K. at the turn of the 1980s as reflecting a “comfortable post-war consensus as to the proper role of the state as collective provider of almost every need, from cradle to grave, of the vast majority of the population, and [of the state] as the engine to forces of the economy by virtue of its substantial ownership or control of the means of production and distribution” (quoting Rodney Austin, Administrative Law’s Reaction to the Changing Concepts of Public Service, in Administrative Law Facing the Future: Old Constraints and New Horizons 1 (Peter Leyland & Terry Woods eds., 1997)). This is perhaps in large part because of the greater political control that politics may have over the bureaucracy. Given its parliamentary and constitutional structure, most agencies in the U.K. are directly accountable to ministers who are themselves members of the legislature.509See, e.g., Peter Cane, Controlling Administrative Power: An Historical Comparison 130 (2016) (describing this structural difference between the U.S. system and the U.K.). The famous so-called “independent” agencies that we see more often in the U.S. don’t exist to the same degree in the U.K.510Id. (highlighting the reality by which arm’s-length agencies, which possess substantial independence from the political executive, is considered exceptional in a system like the U.K.). But this cultural and political divergence can also be the result of the higher standing of the civil service in the U.K. or because of, yet again, generally more favorable attitudes toward regulation in British society than back home in the U.S.511See, e.g., Taggart, supra note 166, at 613.

(e) Judicial role and the costs of judicial review: A final important difference between the U.K. and the U.S. in this context is about the courts. The approach in the U.K. to the domestication of guidance, as we’ve seen,512See supra notes 475–81, 492–96 and accompanying text. gives judges quite a bit of discretion to police guidance on a case-by-case basis. Assuming guidance leaves room for exceptions, courts can rule on the question of the appropriate level of structuring (fettering) of administrative discretion in the guidance and how much it can be rigid or flexible.513See supra notes 483–85 and accompanying text. They can also review guidance for adherence to requirements of illegality and non-arbitrariness. And, crucially, they can do all that not just when the guidance is actually applied but also on a pre-enforcement basis.514See supra notes 483–85 and accompanying text. But giving American courts such a task could be seen as deeply perverse and contrary to conceptions of the appropriate judicial role. On this view, courts have no business in our system in policing the optimal level of constraint in guidance documents. All they can do is safeguard, definitionally, that the line isn’t crossed from nonbinding guidance to binding rule, which is precisely what the “practically binding” test aims to do. And American courts also can’t review “abstract” motions. That would substantially exceed the adversarial nature of our system, sometimes associated also with Article III of the Constitution, and would detach courts too much from the grounding in actual controversies.515See U.S. Const. art. III.

But even if the U.K.’s regime for guidance domestication isn’t so contrary to perceptions about proper judicial role in the U.S., this is still not the end. There may be instrumental and institutional reasons to think that the regime in the U.K. won’t work positively here. Maybe judges in the U.S. will simply make more mistakes than judges in the U.K. in applying such body of law, for example, by failing to identify the optimal amount of bindingness that would be permitted in specific guidance documents. The famous Vermont Yankee decision is an indication that at least the Supreme Court believes that this sort of enterprise in which courts would decide independently which procedures are appropriate for agencies to use beyond the skeletal requirements of the APA is unjustifiably costly.516See Vermont Yankee Nuclear Power Corp. v. NRDC, 435 U.S. 519, 525 (1978). And maybe the litigious nature of the U.S. system (its commitment, as we’ve seen, to “adversarial legalism”),517See supra note 236 and accompanying text. the complexity of a federal and substantially larger system such as ours (with many different levels of courts and which controls a much larger population and consequential regulatory activity),518See, e.g., Peter L. Strauss, One Hundred Fifty Cases Per Year: Some Implications of the Supreme Court’s Limited Resources for Judicial Review of Agency Action, 87 Colum. L. Rev. 1093, 1118–21 (1987). and the more expressed judicial hostility toward the administrative state in America (anti-administrativism),519On the increased judicial hostility to administration in America, see generally Metzger, supra note 389. will make the costs of such a flexible guidance domestication regime seen in the U.K. simply too high for us at home.

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All this certainly seems plausible on its face. But note just how much we have potentially gained from this comparative exercise. With this comparison in mind, we can now see that the regime of guidance domestication that we have, with its reliance on a ‘“practically binding’” test and a rather legalistic aversion nowadays from pre-enforcement review of guidance, could be understood to reflect the kinds of differences we’ve seen with the U.K., and which make our circumstances potentially unique. This includes (1) our need to defend the kind of values that animate the APA of notice and public participation in administrative policymaking; (2) the existence in our system of a statutory APA that is not only central but also provides what appears perhaps like meaningful statutory instructions for courts; (3) the stronger incentives that may exist in the American presidential system to circumvent the possibly “ossified” rulemaking process through the use of guidance; (4) the desire to give some expression in administrative law to views reflecting at least some skepticism toward free-wheeling bureaucratic discretion (and a general uneasiness about the administrative state more broadly); and, finally, (5) the existing regime may be explained and justified because it makes sure that the judiciary retains its appropriate role in our particular system of governance (or that the law the judiciary is empowered to implement doesn’t make the overall scheme of administrative law in America overly costly).

Looking at domestic sources alone might have given us clues in this direction for explaining and justifying our regime of guidance domestication in similar terms.520The account that comes closest to justifying the present regime in similar terms is Levin, supra note 421. But comparative law certainly makes them much more conspicuous.

4.  Lessons, Take II: Critique and Reform?

Once all that is said and done, though, it still seems possible to consider how many of the differences just highlighted between the United Kingdom and the United States may be less powerful than they initially appear. After all, a modest and experimentalist approach to administrative law comparison doesn’t mean that we must rigidly assume that all administrative systems are inescapably different. That would be false in a world where, as we’ve seen in Part II.B,521See supra Section II.B. administrative law is experiencing some apparent fluidity and globalization. What a modest and experimentalist approach requires is only that we be careful and appropriately contextual before we make any judgment about similarity notwithstanding this more global and fluid background.

And indeed, holding onto this careful message and working contextually, the idea that we should simply look at the comparison with the U.K.’s approach to guidance domestication to say “thanks, but no thanks”—or to justify the present differences between us and them—could certainly be complicated. There is more similarity than the previous description suggests. The general fluidity and globalization of administrative law are felt in this context too.

(a) General principles of administrative legitimacy—redux: Start with the domestic perspective of the U.K. While it is true that the U.K.’s regime of secondary legislation doesn’t involve anything like the notice-and-comment process, it is still illuminating that the U.K. hasn’t opted for retaining a stronger “no-fettering principle” that would have directed more guidance to the path of primary or secondary legislation in the event that the guidance is “practically binding” (or “fettering”). After all, such a move would have been in line with the animating principle of parliamentary sovereignty that provides, so it seems, much of the legitimacy to the administrative state in the U.K.

(b) Statutes v. common law—redux: The idea that the form of pre-enforcement review of guidance documents courts in the U.K. now perform is easier to digest, so to speak, compared to the U.S.’s form of pre-enforcement review because here we have a statutory “finality” requirement also seems highly questionable. The opening up of judicial jurisdiction in Gillick to review guidance on a pre-enforcement basis was a dramatic move for the courts in the U.K. The perception of review of this kind substantially expanded on the traditional view of what it means to have judicial review in U.K. administrative law. Following it, as we’ve seen, caused judicial review to “burst through its logical boundaries.”522Wade, supra note 485, at 175. A requirement of finality, in other words, was similarly deeply entrenched in the U.K. even if it did not manifest in the form of statutory law as it does in America.

(c) Constitutional structure—redux: Moreover, and as suggested already in Part II in a more global context,523See supra Part II.B. the U.K.’s parliamentary nature is much more ambiguous in its implications than might be initially thought. Parties in the U.K. appear weaker than in the past, a phenomenon that partly manifests itself by the increasing power of U.K. backbenchers as well as by the increase in the number of parties that get seats in the British parliament today.524See generally Russell, supra note 288 (describing the challenges of policymaking in England under current realities). The primary and secondary legislative process in the U.K., too, is to some degree polarized and virulent—not that different at times from the “blood sport” description we see with respect to rulemaking in the U.S.525Thomas O. McGarity, Administrative Law as Blood Sport: Policy Erosion in a Highly Partisan Age, 61 Duke L.J. 1671, 1671 (2012). The incentives to use guidance at the expense of primary or secondary legislation may thus not be that weak even in the U.K. As we saw, in the U.K. guidance too has been characterized as a “retreat from law.”526Juss, supra note 461, at 150. For a paper documenting the increased attraction of guidance or “soft law” in the U.K., see Carol Harlow, Law and Public Administration: Convergence and Symbiosis, 71 Int’l Rev. Admin. Sci. 279, 279 (2005).

(d) Politics and culture—redux: As furthermore suggested in Part II,527See supra Part II.B. there is reason as well to question at least the degree or intensity of any relevant cultural and political gaps between administrative cultures across countries in general, including the U.K. and America in particular. Indeed, the “Anglo-American tradition” seems closer here too. While a deeply libertarian, Tea Party, “anti-administrativist” culture is perhaps absent in the U.K., or is at least less politically salient, there is certainly a tradition, perhaps growing, of suspicion toward bureaucracy in the U.K. Dicey’s declaration, mentioned before,528See supra notes 173–74 and accompanying text. that the U.K. doesn’t have administrative law still haunts the country.529See, e.g., Martin Loughlin, Evolution and Gestalt of the State in the United Kingdom, in 1 The Max Planck Handbooks in European Public Law 451, 452–53 (Sabino Cassese et al. eds., 2017). The British state and administration are still treated in some, perhaps growing, quarters with ambivalence.530Id. at 492.And U.K. administrative law scholars have famously highlighted the existence, sometimes prevalence, of what they call “red light,” rather than “green light,” approaches to administrative law.531See Harlow & Rawlings, supra note 325, at 1–48. These approaches aim to mostly constrain the administrative state—not empower it. They’re akin to a “libertarian administrative law”532Cass R. Sunstein & Adrian Vermeule, Libertarian Administrative Law, 82 U. Chi. L. Rev. 393, 393 (2015). U.K.-style.

Finally, the sympathy to retaining unbounded bureaucratic discretion and preferring regulatory informality is also probably no longer as strong as it used to be in the contemporary U.K. Administrative culture in the U.K. has been to a large extent “rulified” and legalized, as many have remarked,533See, e.g., Harlow & Rawlings, supra note 325, at 95–139. and as the previously described evolution of the no-fettering rule in fact further suggests (given the way that the no-fettering principle has sometimes been transformed in practice to a “fettering rule” whereby courts can make the issuance of guidance mandatory).534See supra note 477 and accompanying text.

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All this indicates then that it is far from obvious to say that the U.K. didn’t have similar reasons to land on the kind of regime that we have in America, one that requires any “practically binding” guidance to go through the primary or at least secondary legislative process and that would deny judicial review at the pre-enforcement stage. It could have possibly gone that way. Yet, it didn’t.

To be sure, things in the U.K. are far from static. There are currently rumblings in the direction of some reform of the U.K. apparatus concerning administrative guidance. The use of guidance in the U.K. during the COVID-19 pandemic has created pushback and concerns over abuse, including that the present state of the law is too permissive and allows “government by decree.”535K.D. Ewing, Covid-19: Government by Decree, 31 King’s L.J. 1, 16 (2020). Similar issues have also been raised in other systems, including Australia. See, e.g., Matthew McLeod, Distancing from Accountability? Governments’ Use of Soft Law in the COVID-19 Pandemic, 50 Fed. L. Rev. 3, 3 (2022). This connects to a more general sense in the U.K. today, clearly evident in elite discourse, that there are good reasons to tighten parliamentary sovereignty over the British executive and administrative state, which includes strengthening legislative supervision of guidance.536See, e.g., Alexander Horne & Michael Torrance, Parliament as Scrutineer: Parliamentary Oversight of the Law-Making Process, in A Research Agenda for Administrative Law 85, 97 (Carol Harlow ed., 2023); Alexandra Sinclair & Joe Tomlinson, Plus ça change? Brexit and the Flaws of the Delegated Legislation System 6 (2020), https://publiclawproject.org.uk/resources/plus-ca-change-brexit-and-the-flaws-of-the-delegated-legislation-system [http://perma.cc/TK4E-D338]. See also King, supra note 449, at 161–69 (describing the “inadequacy of parliamentary scrutiny” of delegated legislation, particularly in the context of the European Union (Withdrawal) Act 2018). Finally, the U.K. has recently also seen cycles of critics pointing to the need to cabin an alleged over-aggressiveness by the courts, both in general but also especially in administrative law.537In 2020, the English government initiated an Independent Review of Administrative Law (“IRAL”) process given concerns of judicial overreach in administrative law. The IRAL panel submitted its final report in 2021 and the government ultimately followed up with a legislative bill that implemented some of the panel’s recommendations, which was also approved in parliament. For details, see Independent Review of Administrative Law, GOV.UK, https://www.gov.uk/government/groups/independent-review-of-administrative-law [https://perma.cc/65KS-6BMJ].

Nonetheless, at least so far, these contemporary rumblings haven’t resulted in a call for the kind of solution for the domestication of guidance that we see in the U.S. Indeed, there is no dominant voice today in the U.K. debates that suggests that courts will go back to invalidate any guidance that is “fettering” or “practically binding”; backtrack from policing the no-fettering principle in a highly flexible and contextual way; or entirely close the courts’ doors on pre-enforcement review of guidance for illegality and arbitrariness. Rather, at most, reflecting the kind of fluidity and potential globalization of administrative law we’ve seen in Section II.B, 538See supra Section II.B. these calls have so far been trying to build on some elements of the regime of guidance domestication that is familiar from the U.S., though in a much subtler way.

For instance, one proposal has been to establish legal requirements to publication of guidance that would “compensate” for the lack of direct applicability of the Statutory Instruments Act. In the U.S., this of course exists already by virtue of the APA.539See 5 U.S.C. § 553(b)(A). But in the U.K., given the current legislative framework, that work has mostly been done through development of new judicial requirements, which legal scholars seem to generally be supportive of and even proactively encourage.540See, e.g., McHarg, supra note 470, at 286–88.

More interestingly perhaps, another proposal that has been floating around in the U.K. as a solution to the tensions and risks that have arisen lately with respect to the use of guidance is to enforce, in that context, some requirement for broad public participation or, as it is more commonly referred to there, “consultation.”541Id. at 301–02. The belief seems to be that, especially given the lack of any parliamentary supervision on guidance, consultation can be an important surrogate that would counter the risks of its abuse and enhance guidance’s legitimacy.542Id. And the belief seems moreover to be that the U.K. system, too, would benefit from expanding the repertoire of legitimating moves it uses with respect to its administrative state in ways that go beyond mere political and legislative accountability to more of the deliberative and quasi-democratic legitimizing principles and move broadly familiar in the U.S. context.543See, e.g., Carol Harlow & Richard Rawlings, Populism and Administrative Law, in The Making and Re-Making of Public Law (Eoin Carolan et al. eds., forthcoming 2024) (manuscript at 3), https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4414379 [https://perma.cc/RF2K-YYHH]. For a similar argument coming from an Australian scholar, see Andrew Edgar, Administrative Regulation-Making: Contrasting Parliamentary and Deliberative Legitimacy, 40 Melb. U. L. Rev. 738, 738 (2017).

To be clear: This call to increase public “consultations” in the U.K. isn’t being made with respect to every administrative guidance.544See, e.g., Harlow & Rawlings, supra note 543, at 20 (speaking of consultation with respect to meaningful regulatory actions). And the form of consultation being envisioned as a remedy for guidance’s risks and costs, and as part of a renewed effort to think about its domestication, doesn’t necessarily or always look exactly like the American notice-and-comment process.545Id. (highlighting that consultations need not be in a format that’s all encompassing or terribly rigid); Consultation Principles: Guidance, Gov.UK (March 19, 2018), https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/media/5a79b500ed915d07d35b781b/code-of-practice.pdf [https://perma.cc/64CG-LGYL]. But when the issue centers on guidance that is sufficiently important, and when the agency itself hasn’t already made a real effort to engage broader audiences, then perhaps yes. And though most of the U.K. discourse has so far been centered on politics—in the sense that it is claimed that increase in the use of “consultations” in developing guidance should come from either the legislature or the government rather than courts546The official position of law in the U.K. is that the rules of “natural justice” that require hearing do not apply to general policymaking, and thus, absent something like a U.K. APA, there is now no general common law legal obligation to consult. See Bates v. Lord Hailsham [1972] 1 WLR 1373. (and it should be noted that at least the U.K. government has, in fact, taken some steps in that direction)547See, e.g., U.K. Cabinet Off., Consultation Principles (2018) (general guide encouraging consultations and determining best practices for engaging them); The Environmental Permitting (England and Wales) Regulations 2016, SI 2016/1154 (a statutory instrument mandating consultation in matters of environmental permitting). —this is not the final word yet. Though courts in the U.K., including its Supreme Court, have so far been resistant to infer duties of broad public consultation on guidance independently,548See R (ex rel. Moseley) v. London Borough of Haringey [2014] UKSC 56 [23] (Lord Wilson); McHarg, supra note 470, at 302 (arguing that a judicial duty to consult with respect to guidance should not be ruled out). some judges and scholars did emphatically gesture in the direction of having courts recognize judicial obligation for consultation.549For discussion, see Alistair Mills, An Update on Consultation, 20 Jud. Rev. 160, 170 (2015). It is quite possible therefore that in the future, and even without further concrete steps from either Parliament or the government, U.K. courts will decide to leap ahead.

5.  Expanding the Comparative Gaze: Domesticating Guidance Across the Globe

Up to this point I have spoken about where the U.K. seems to be with respect to administrative guidance. But before going back to the U.S. armed with that knowledge, it is worth pointing out at this stage the fact that the U.K.’s previously existing and presently evolving regime of guidance domestication, which is edging somewhat closer to what we are familiar with in the U.S., doesn’t live in global isolation. To the contrary: if we broaden our comparative gaze, we find a lot that looks very much the same. The fluidity and globalization of administrative laws and systems is broader in reach.

For example, in Italy, the law on guidance (also known as circolari administrative) has long maintained that it is unreviewable on a pre-enforcement basis because it lacks any legal effects.550See Mariolina Eliantonio, Judicial Review of Soft Law Before the European and the National Courts: A Wind of Change Blowing from the Member States?, in EU Soft Law in the Member States 283, 292 n.48 (Mariolina Eliantonio et al. eds., 2021) (citing TAR Lazio, Sez II, 30 Aug. 2012, n. 7395). However, courts there have noted recently an important exception, ruling that guidance will be reviewable so long as it is not purely “internal” and also addresses regulated entities themselves.551Id. at 292 (citing TAR Lazio, Sez I, 13 February 2019, n. 2800). In these cases, Italian courts will then opine on either the legality or substantive reasonableness of the guidance, as well as on whether the guidance is sufficiently provisional or rather too rigid.

France, too, has evolved in very similar directions. It has moved from completely prohibiting judicial review of guidance (known as “circulaires” or “droit souple”) because they lack any formal legal force,552Id. at 293. to its very minimal review,553See CE Ass., Jan. 29, 1954, 07134, Rec. Lebon 54. This decision, which is also known as Notre-Dame du Kreisker, opened the door for pre-enforcement review of guidance if it goes beyond “mere interpretation,” not very different from how our law sometimes distinguishes between “interpretive rules” and “policy statements” within the broader category of guidance. to slightly wider,554See CE Sect., Dec. 18, 2002, 233618. In this decision, also known as Duvignères, the Conseil d’État opened the door for reviewability of guidance, but only if it contains “mandatory forms.” Id. to now allowing pre-enforcement review on various administrative law grounds so long as guidance has “significant effects” or will “significantly influence” the behavior of regulated entities and administrators.555This language is taken from two cases of the Conseil d’État from 2016: CE Ass., Mar. 21, 2016, 368082, Rec. Lebon, and CE Ass., Mar. 21, 2016, 390023 (Société Fairvesta International GmBH). Though at the time these judgments were rendered there was some uncertainty as to whether they will be applied again, the Conseil d’État has since applied it in other cases, including in a case from 2019: CE Ass., July 19, 2019, 426389. A similar situation now also occurs at the EU level, where, in contrast to the past, guidance can now be reviewed on a pre-enforcement basis and for a variety of causes so long as the guidance is capable of “affecting the interests of” a person or is “bringing about a distinct change in . . . [a person’s] position.”556The language is taken from the European Court of Justice’s judgment in Case C-60/81, IBM v. Comm’n of the Eur. Comtys., 1981 E.C.R., 2639, ¶ 9, https://curia.europa.eu/juris/liste.jsf?language=en&jur=C,T,F&num=60/81&td=ALL [https://perma.cc/JW8G-AF4X]. It should be noted, though, that the approach to reviewability of guidance at the EU level actually has roots in a previous judgment of the European Court of Justice (the “ECJ”) in Case C-22/70, Comm’n of the European Comms. v. Council of the European Comms., 1971 ECR 263, ¶ 41, https://curia.europa.eu/juris/liste.jsf?num=C-22/70 [https://perma.cc/YC97-XZZT]. In that case, the ECJ emphasized that reviewability in EU courts must be open to “all measures adopted by [EU] institutions, whatever their nature or form.” See id. ¶ 42. To be clear, the case law of the EU is far from consistent, and there are disagreements about how broad or narrow the reach of that test should be, including by calling for reforming this test. But at present, no one seems to be calling for the EU to completely abolish the idea of pre-enforcement review of guidance. Finally, in Canada, courts have similarly opened the door for pre-enforcement reviewability of guidance in a wide variety of cases. They too are no longer troubled by their definitional informality.557See Sossin & van Wiltenburg, supra note 445, at 640. A similar situation also seems to be happening in Switzerland. See Alexandre Flückiger, Soft Law Instruments in Public Law, in Swiss Public Administration: Making the State Work Successfully 121, 133–34 (Andreas Ladner et al. eds., 2019).

But there’s actually more here. All these countries and jurisdictions (France, Italy, the EU, and Canada) are not only getting closer to the U.K. in allowing for pre-enforcement review of guidance in sufficiently important contexts. Like the U.K. again, all these countries and jurisdictions also exhibit similar discussions about the need to supplement pre-enforcement judicial review with “consultation” mandates—opening up guidance for public input.558For an extensive comparative survey covering the aforementioned jurisdictions, see Fabrizio De Francesco & Jale Tosun, The Enactment of Public Participation in Rulemaking: A Comparative Analysis, 29 Swiss Pol. Sci. Rev. 21, 21 (2022). In most jurisdictions, such public consultations, it is believed, should originate from political institutions such as legislatures and executives or administrative agencies themselves.559For the governmental attempts to encourage consultation in Canada, see Policy Statement and Guidelines for Public Participation – Dep’t of Justice, Gov’t of Can. (Sept. 7, 2021), https://www.justice.gc.ca/eng/cons/pol.html [https://perma.cc/CKS3-5NWR]. For an extensive discussion, though somewhat dated, of the efforts done across Europe to increase participation in development of general policies, including with respect to guidance, see generally Joana Mendes, Participation in EU Rule-Making: A Rights-Based Approach (2011). But, as in the U.K., the possibility of developing obligations to consult with the public judicially, rather than merely politically, is not at all foreclosed.560For an impassioned argument that courts beyond the United States should decidedly take this step, see generally Susan Rose-Ackerman, Democracy and Executive Power: Policymaking Accountability in the US, the UK, Germany, and France (2021).

6.  Back to Critiquing and Reforming the U.S.

As should be clear, there are important differences between the U.K., the U.S., and these other systems or jurisdictions that I have just mentioned. The EU is a supranational entity, and France is a semi-presidential system, for example. The regimes for guidance domestication in each of these systems are moreover not precisely the same, as the various tests used in these systems to allow for the reviewability of guidance briefly summarized above also indicate.561For example, the Italian judicial system’s willingness to allow pre-enforcement review of guidance that is not purely internal could lead to different results from the French or European approaches which are not similarly limited. And I of course did not even mention many other systems or countries whose administrative law and regime for guidance domestication may be entirely different.562In particular, it appears that Germany has not yet allowed for pre-enforcement review of guidance documents. See Eliantonio, supra note 550, at 299. To the extent that the increased similarity between these countries or jurisdictions is itself an indication of the increased globalization of administrative law, it thus highlights yet again how that process is potentially fragile and obviously complex.563See supra Section II.B.3.

Nonetheless, after exploring more in depth the U.K. administrative law system and its specific approach to guidance domestication, and supported by this very minimal introduction—a sketch really—of foreign guidance domestication regimes beyond the U.K. (which seem to point in quite similar directions), we do seem to be on a more secure footing at this point to go back home, to the U.S., and start asking: are the kinds of differences highlighted before that significant also from our own perspective in the U.S.? Can they truly explain the divergence in the approaches to guidance domestication between the U.K. and these other jurisdictions and the American approach? Can they justify them?

And, as I think is fair to say, the answer at a minimum seems much less certain.

(a) The APA and general principles of administrative legitimacy—redux (II): We’ve seen, for example, that the APA and its animating values of public participation in policymaking by agencies can potentially support the present approach to guidance domestication in America. But the APA also clearly says that guidance is exempt from notice-and-comment rulemaking, thereby signaling that the participatory values the APA reflects—and which our broader culture emphasizes—are potentially much more qualified.564See 5 U.S.C. § 553(b)(A). They must be considered not in isolation, but along with the existence of contrasting values like the previously existing political accountability of agencies to the political branches, which, as discussed, is exactly what can explain the more lenient approach in the U.K. to guidance domestication. The move that we have seen in the U.K. and in other systems to encourage “consultation” with respect to guidance565See supra notes 537–57 and accompanying text. also suggests that the participatory values that our system prizes need not necessarily come from judicial enforcement of notice-and-comment procedures. They can come from other avenues, such as the political branches themselves or perhaps even through agency “self-regulation.”566Elizabeth Magill, Agency Self-Regulation, 77 Geo. Wash. L. Rev. 859, 861 (2009).

(b) Statutes v. common law—redux (II): We’ve also seen that the present divergence in approaches may be dependent on the statutory requirement that exists in America with respect to finality. But the reality is that the APA’s “finality” provision doesn’t have an essentially restrictive meaning. As previously pointed out, in the past, courts did appear to take a much more pragmatic approach to the finality (and ripeness) requirements.567See supra notes 432–33 and accompanying text. That more pragmatic approach could have squared with pre-enforcement review of at least some key guidance documents notwithstanding that they lack the force of law just as we see in the U.K. and across other jurisdictions. This certainly puts under tension the suggestion that pre-enforcement review of guidance is in some deep tension with the judicial role in the U.S. A Gillick moment can potentially occur (or reoccur) even in the U.S. and with the kind of statutory APA that we have and that the U.K. lacks.

(c) Constitutional structure—redux (II): We’ve seen that the stricter approach that we have in the U.S. to domesticating guidance could have been furthermore explained by the potentially increased incentives to bypass the legislative and rulemaking processes, which seem harder to succeed at compared to primary and secondary legislation in the U.K. parliamentary system. But even that’s not crystal clear. Some suggest that the “ossification” thesis with respect to the rulemaking process in the U.S. is far from persuasive.568See, e.g., Adrian Vermeule, Our Schmittian Administrative Law, 122 Harv. L. Rev. 1095, 1144 (2009). And, as we’ve seen, administrative agencies may potentially possess sufficient incentives to, again, “self-regulate”569Magill, supra note 566, at 890, 892, 896, 900–02. and act prudently notwithstanding the temptations of guidance compared to rules. Letting agencies more freely issue guidance that is “practically binding” does not so obviously open-up opportunities for inevitable abuse.

(d) Politics and culture—redux (II): Even the cultural and political divergences that might have been thought to explain and justify the existing variance between the U.K. and the U.S.’s approach to guidance domestication does not hold so clearly. We have seen this before with respect to the U.K.’s more complex disposition today about the administrative state.570See supra notes 524–31 and accompanying text. But the same is true in the U.S. as well. A culture of fear of bureaucracy or the administrative state probably exists, and is certainly vocal, but there is also a counter-American culture nowadays that’s supportive of bureaucracy and is comfortable in relaxing some of the restraints it faces today in the name of achieving governmental arrangements that get things done.571See generally, e.g., Metzger, supra note 389 (criticizing recent ascendent attacks on the administrative state and even developing an account of the administrative state’s mandatory constitutional status); Bagley, supra note 377 (criticizing even the core-liberal commitment to administrative procedure, which, Bagley argues, bogs down government from achieving valuable goals more effectively and rapidly). That counter-culture can also support the conclusion that there is no need for the strict approach of invalidating guidance whenever it “practically binds” and that it is fine to let bureaucracies experiment with legitimate uses of guidance that have various degrees of effects on behavior.

(e) Judicial role and the costs of judicial review—redux (II): Finally, the judicial challenges in managing a regime of guidance domestication that’s more flexible and discretionary, and which permits courts to perform review on a pre-enforcement basis, as in the U.K., is not necessarily prohibitive in the U.S. I have already mentioned how pre-enforcement review of guidance documents could have been squared with the more pragmatic conception of the judicial role that underlined past case law.572See supra note 564 and accompanying text. But it is not at all clear that the costs of the U.K. regime for domesticating guidance would necessarily be so negative even in the U.S., either today or in the future. Though the U.S. administrative state’s environment is highly litigious and comparatively broad and complex, the idea that judges in the U.S. necessarily can’t flexibly and responsibly intervene or at least provide some input into the soundness of a guidance regime on all its components, as U.K. judges do,573See supra notes 449–79 and accompanying text. also seems unnecessarily extreme. It ignores more pragmatic trends in our jurisprudence and history of administrative law, which suggests that judges can potentially make responsible, sufficiently grounded, decisions in administrative law that are not entirely hostile to it.574See, e.g., Pojanowski, supra note 9, at 875–82 (identifying, though criticizing, a strong pragmatic strand of administrative law jurisprudence Pojanowski dubs “administrative pragmatism”).

***

And . . . it is at this point that we must return to the kind of path that a modest and experimentalist approach to comparative administrative law charts. Now that we’ve seen, in a much more refined and contextual fashion, that the differences between the U.K. and the U.S. with respect to guidance domestication may not be so extreme, and that there is some substantial basis for potential cross-national similarity or at least fluidity, even a modest and experimentalist approach can license us to be a bit bolder. We might at least consider some change, or moving in the direction of change, based on the comparison. More specifically, we may consider such a move so long that it passes the further benchmarks that a modest and experimentalist approach recommends, and previously discussed in Section II.E, namely—that there are strong domestic reasons that support it, that the direction of change isn’t abusive, and that the change is pursued experimentally. And, indeed, these benchmarks all seem to be met or at least could plausibly be met.

Domestic justification: To begin, our contemporary approach to guidance domestication does seem to be highly unsatisfactory. The “practically binding” effects test has led to a confused jurisprudence and endless and potentially highly costly litigation.575See Levin, supra note 421, at 266 (citing the pervasive belief according to which litigation on the distinction between guidance and rules has become “fuzzy,” “tenuous,” “blurred,” and even “enshrouded in considerable smog” (quoting Cmty. Nutrition Inst. v. Young, 818 F.2d. 943, 946 (D.C. Cir. 1987)). It has also created perverse incentives whereby both agencies and regulated parties are motivated to either strategically deny the real binding effects of guidance (the agency’s perspective) or exaggerate them (the private sector’s perspective).576On these negative strategic effects of the “practically binding” test, see Kessler & Sabel, supra note 427, at 199. In the meantime, the unwillingness of courts to engage in pre-enforcement review for any guidance that survives the “practically binding” effects test, notwithstanding how much we know that guidance can lead to real world effects, creates a real potential for abuse of both regulated parties and regulatory beneficiaries.577Especially on the “beneficiary” side’s costs, see generally Mendelson, supra note 432.

The U.K. approach seems on its face better on all fronts. By adopting a reverse presumption to that the U.S. has today (according to which guidance is always procedurally valid, even if it binds, so long as it leaves genuine room for exceptions), the U.K. approach greatly simplifies the U.S. approach. It will allow U.S. law to capture the real advantages of guidance in the modern administrative state, including as a tool for “internal administrative law,” official helpfulness, and, most ambitiously, the optimal vehicle for regulation in general.578See supra notes 426–27 and accompanying text. And it will rid the litigation around guidance of the perverse incentives for strategic maneuvering around the actual effects of guidance—by both agencies and private industry. At the same time, the U.K. approach isn’t at all blind to the genuine risks underlying the use of administrative guidance. As we’ve seen, under this approach, courts will still retain a meaningful role in its domestication. So long as the guidance is sufficiently important, for example because of its substantial practical effects or because of reasonably ascertainable risks for its abuse (as U.K. courts have themselves suggested in their own jurisprudence),579See supra notes 494–97 and accompanying text. courts will retain power to review guidance on a pre-enforcement basis. And at that point, courts could not only review the guidance for illegality or arbitrariness; they could also review the reasons for why agencies designed the particular guidance regime they have and whether these reasons are enough, or rather whether they raise questions regarding whether the guidance shouldn’t be either more binding (perhaps because of an increased need for decisional consistency in the context of mass adjudication) or less binding (perhaps because the need for more experimentation, openness and learning).580See supra notes 494–97 and accompanying text. In fact, under the U.K. approach, and though pushing it a bit further from where it stands today, courts might even possibly nudge, in appropriate cases, agencies to enhance broader participation or “consultation” with the broader public outside the notice-and-comment process.

Yes, it is undeniably true that in the current polarized climax of our administrative law, the U.K. approach seems to disappoint contending forces on all sides.581See supra notes 438–43 and accompanying text. On the right of politics, opponents of administration will lose the constraining effects of a the practically binding test, especially when it is applied aggressively by courts to invalidate guidance and steer it to the notice-and-comment process. Conversely, on the center and the left, by endorsing the U.K. approach, proponents of administration will lose the ability to get courts completely out of the way before the enforcement of guidance and to rely only on managerial, political, and generally non-judicial controls.

That much is again beyond doubt. At the same time, we shouldn’t also ignore the fact that the U.K. approach can serve a kind of middle ground between these visions—a “fierce compromise,” if you will582Shepherd, supra note 2, at 1557, 1681.—where both sides both gain something as well as lose something. The political right again clearly loses the “practically binding” test with its strong restrictive “teeth” toward agencies; but it emphatically gets a much more secured and confident way to bring courts to review guidance on a pre-enforcement basis—possibly getting courts more seriously into the business of policing guidance than at present. And the political left and center again will clearly lose the ability to get the courts completely out of the way and to rely solely on extrajudicial mechanisms of accountability. At the same time, however, supporters of administrative guidance also achieve, under the U.K. approach, a judicial framework that is much less suspicious and critical of guidance as such and is much more contextual and nuanced.

Given these bipartisan qualities, the U.K. approach might not just be an improvement on the status quo, as suggested before. It can also suggest a kind of solution where contending forces in our system could finally “come to rest”583Wong Yang Sung v. McGrath, 339 U.S. 33, 40 (1950). in the present intense fight over the legitimacy of administrative state (at least as it applies to the context of guidance).

If all this is not enough, it should also be noted that the U.K. approach to guidance domestication is not entirely foreign to us in the U.S. It has some strong domestic support too. For instance, some American administrative law scholars have argued already that the best approach to deal with guidance, and which optimizes on both its benefits and costs, is exactly to subject guidance, on a pre-enforcement basis, to substantive review,584See Mark Seidenfeld, Substituting Substantive for Procedural Review of Guidance Documents, 90 Tex. L. Rev. 331, 373 (2011); Kessler & Sabel, supra note 427, at 190. Cf. Blake Emerson, The Claims of Official Reason: Administrative Guidance on Social Inclusion, 128 Yale L.J. 2122, 2134 (2019) (arguing that the legality of the use of guidance should hinge on higher demands “for reasoned justification”). as well as to apply a reason-giving requirement on the procedural choices agencies make with respect to whether to use guidance in the first place585See M. Elizabeth Magill, Agency Choice of Policymaking Form, 71 U. Chi. L. Rev. 1383, 1414–15 (2004) (arguing for a reason-giving requirement on a choice to use guidance). or how exactly to structure a particular guidance regime.586See, e.g., Kessler & Sabel, supra note 427, at 200 (arguing for a State Farm inquiry process for guidance). Some scholars have furthermore joined forces in recommending a clear and resounding revival of the more pragmatic approach courts used to apply to the “finality” requirement in the APA.587See, e.g., Kessler & Sabel, supra note 427, at 199; Seidenfeld, supra note 584, at 375–80. They have even similarly suggested the kinds of tests that the U.K. system draws on in its own guidance domestication regime, which looks at the effects of guidance as a criterion for its reviewability on a pre-enforcement basis rather than one that affects its validity.588See, e.g., William Funk, The Proper Use of the “Practically Binding Effect” Test, Yale J. on Regul.: Notice & Comment (May 8, 2019), https://www.yalejreg.com/nc/the-proper-use-of-the-practically-binding-effect-test-by-william-funk [https://perma.cc/5448-P99H]. Recent jurisprudence, including from the Supreme Court, might in fact be showing signs of this kind of pragmatic revival as well.589See, e.g., Sackett v. EPA, 566 U.S. 120, 131 (2012); U.S. Army Corps of Eng’rs v. Hawkes Co., 136 U.S. 1807, 1815–16 (2016); Nat’l Org. of Veterans’ Advocs., Inc. v. Sec’y of Veteran Affs., 981 F.3d 1360, 1365 (Fed. Cir. 2020). Finally, there are even calls that suggest that it won’t be at all farfetched to move the needle a bit and try to encourage agencies to engage in a broader participatory process for key guidance documents beyond the notice-and-comment process.590See Nicholas R. Parrillo, Should the Public Get to Participate Before Federal Agencies Issue Guidance? An Empirical Study, 71 Admin. L. Rev. 57, 124 (2019) (recommending an agency-by-agency or document-by-document approach to participation). These calls are not yet judicial exactly. But maybe they will themselves evolve.

Abusiveness: Moving ahead with the benchmarks a modest and experimentalist approach recommends, building on the U.K. approach to guidance domestication quite clearly wouldn’t prove abusive. That approach doesn’t block any chance for agencies to exercise independent judgment, for example. To the contrary, the U.K. regime of guidance domestication seems to expand it over the present status quo which leads agencies to need to hide and respond strategically to litigation on the issue of procedural invalidation under the “practically binding” test. At the same time, the powers courts would retain under such a regime would clearly not create an administrative state that is effectively (and on a wholesale level) a “black hole.”591Even one commentator who believes that administrative law will inevitably contain some “black holes” is nonetheless of the belief that “black holes” are supplemented by some “grey holes” which do provide some space for standard institutional supervision, including by courts. See Adrian Vermeule, Our Schmittian Administrative Law, 122 Harv. L. Rev. 1095, 1096 (2009) (though, on this author’s account, the grey holes tend to be systematically weak). This more flexible regime that exists in the U.K. still preserves a meaningful place for courts to intervene. And it provides courts with tools to enhance agencies’ openness to democratic contestation and political supervision even further, including most clearly by requiring agencies to explain their choice of how they structured guidance regimes (and potentially by compelling some forms of public participation in guidance development).

Experimentalism: Finally, drawing on the U.K. approach to domesticate guidance shouldn’t be done swiftly and fully. A modest and experimentalist approach indeed strongly counsels against that. While, as we have seen just now, there is some measure of substantial similarity between the U.K. and the U.S., we can’t rule out that in practice the weight of the differences between the countries will be the one that would be more substantial. Maybe, for example, American culture is indeed more hesitant at present toward bureaucracy than U.K. culture is, such that building on the approach seen across the pond too forcefully would prove problematic and disharmonic with the present administrative culture here. And maybe a more rigid, and less flexible, judicial regime with respect to guidance domestication correlates better with judicial practice and cultural and professional expectation from the judiciary in the U.S. Maybe also our judges in America can’t be trusted today to exercise sound judgment with respect to guidance domestication in the vein that the U.K. approach requires.

Given this, the appropriate way to start moving along in the direction of the U.K. approach to guidance domestication is again not as a blunderbuss but rather, as I argued in Section II.E, experimentally. This means at a minimum that the possibility of moving our law of guidance domestication in the direction of what we see in the U.K. should now become central and widely discussed, “percolating” until its attractions will become evident (or not). But, as we’ve seen in Section II.E, this does not at all overrule the possibility of at least some careful, either incremental or easily revisable, moves by judicial and other decisionmakers to already today bring us more in line with the U.K. approach.

B.  Chevron: Today and in the Future

1.  Comparative Administrative Law’s “Constitutional Moment”?

In the context of guidance domestication, it was important to provide some background to ground the ensuing discussion. It was also necessary to justify the need for taking a comparative approach to the issue in the first place more thoroughly. With the next doctrinal domain, things are much simpler. After all, who hasn’t heard of Chevron, arguably the most famous doctrine in all American administrative law? Anyone who presumes to know anything about anything in the field probably can recite Chevron’s two-step framework by heart. Even if just awoken from their sleep, they will quickly and sharply respond that, under Chevron, courts are instructed to defer to agency interpretations of statutes if, drawing on traditional tools of statutory construction, they find that Congress hasn’t spoken to the issue at hand (Step I); and if an agency’s proposed interpretation is ultimately a reasonable one (Step II).592In case someone still needs a refresher despite all this, see Kenneth A. Bamberger & Peter L. Strauss, Chevron’s Two Steps, 95 Va. L. Rev. 611, 624–25 (2009) (rehearsing the basics and justifying them).

Similarly, after the Court’s decision in Buffington, there is moreover no need to explain why comparative administrative law might be important with respect to Chevron deference. In his dissent in Buffington, Justice Gorsuch himself invoked comparative administrative law—maybe for the first time since the Supreme Court’s decision in Morgan I from 1936593Morgan v. United States (Morgan I), 298 U.S. 468, 482 (1936).—suggesting that the fact that other systems “declined to adopt” something like Chevron reinforces the conclusion that we in the U.S. should back away from it as well.594Buffington v. McDonough, 143 S. Ct. 14, 22 (2022) (Gorsuch, J., dissenting). Now that the Court dramatically agreed to take the question it refused to take on in Buffington—concerning the continued validity of Chevron—in two cases called Loper Bright and Relentless to be decided during the October 2023 term and in fact any day now (!), it is not at all farfetched to think that comparative administrative law might be invoked yet again.

On the surface, one might think that all these developments bode well for comparative administrative law. After years of its marginalization, certainly in the U.S.,595See supra Section I.C. comparative administrative law could not have asked for a better opportunity to come into the spotlight. It is referred to (and will potentially be referred to again) by no less than our highest Court, just like comparative constitutional law makes occasional appearances in the Court’s jurisprudence. Indeed, those Supreme Court appearances might have played an important role in bringing forth the revival of comparative constitutional law in the first place.596For two of the cases most associated with the comparative constitutional law revival at the Supreme Court, see Printz v. United States, 521 U.S. 898 (1997) (“federalism” limits on the U.S. government’s power) and Roper v. Simmons, 543 U.S. 551 (2005) (death penalty). One might think that Loper Bright and Relentless are finally going to be comparative administrative law’s moment.

On further reflection, however, the initial excitement should be seriously tempered. Justice Gorsuch’s Buffington opinion isn’t a good exercise in comparative administrative law. To the contrary: it gives the entire enterprise a bad rap. To the extent that the Court might follow Justice Gorsuch’s lead in Loper Bright and Relentless, things will be even more unfortunate. Comparative administrative law might be revived, but its “constitutional moment” won’t be a good one. We will have to look at this moment with some measure of embarrassment.

2.  Yes, No Chevron Abroad

To be sure, Justice Gorsuch certainly appears to be on stable ground at least when we observe things at surface level. Looking at numerous foreign legal regimes in terms of how their respective courts treat agencies’ proposed interpretations of statutes does seem to suggest that Chevron is not exactly universally popular. As one of the articles that Justice Gorsuch cited in Buffington noted, there’s nothing exactly like “Chevron abroad.”597Barnett & Vinson, supra note 152, at 621, 674–75.

Take Germany for example. The German administrative law system doesn’t recognize anything like Chevron. Rather, in general, German judges retain “thorough judicial control” on questions of statutory interpretation (and interpretation more generally).598See Nigel G. Foster & Satish Sule, German Legal System & Laws 256–57 (3d ed. 2002). While German law does recognize an exception according to which, in cases where courts confront “indefinite legal terms,” they should provide some “margin of appreciation” to agencies’ interpretations,599Id. that exception is an incredibly narrow one in practice.600Hermann Pünder & Anika Klafki, Administrative Law in Germany, in Comparative Administrative Law: Administrative Law of the European Union, Its Member States and the United States 49, 89 (René Seerden ed., 4th ed. 2018). Even if it sounds to American ears that statutes are quite often “indefinite,” in Germany, with its distinctive legal culture, that term is understood very differently.601A point somewhat lost in the otherwise interesting analysis in Barnett & Vinson, supra note 152, at 641–42. For another discussion of the concept of discretion, and its much more narrow scope in Germany compared to the U.S., see Jan S. Oster, The Scope of Judicial Review in the German and U.S. Administrative Legal Systems, 9 German L.J. 1267, 1269 (2008). It applies only exceptionally and minimally, such as in “examinations in schools and universities, . . . hiring and assessments of civil servants,” and “complex technical assessments.”602Pünder & Klafki, supra note 600, at 89. Nothing more ambitious than that.

Or take the U.K. Law in the U.K. similarly doesn’t recognize a general rule of deference to executive interpretations of statutes. To the contrary: the rule in the U.K. now is that courts “say what the law is.”603Cass R. Sunstein, Beyond Marbury: The Executive’s Power to Say What the Law Is, 115 Yale L.J. 2580, 2591–93 (2006). The leading authority for this proposition is R v. Hull Univ. Visitor, ex p Page [1993] AC 682 (HL). Historically, English courts used to be more permissive. More specifically, prior to 1969, English courts used to give some interpretive leeway to administration, at least when their interpretive errors were considered “non-jurisdictional.” Today, however, the distinction between jurisdictional and non-jurisdictional errors has disappeared. See Anisminic Ltd v. Foreign Comp. Comm’n [1969] 2 AC 147 (HL); Stephen Sedley, Lions Under the Throne: Essays on the History of English Public Law 45–69 (2015). The only place where courts in the U.K. have recognized the possibility of deference on questions of law is when interpretations of statutory terms are made by the U.K. tribunal system which conducts the lion’s share of administrative adjudication in the U.K.604See generally R (Cart) v. Upper Tribunal [2011] UKSC 28, [2012] 1 AC 663; R (Jones) v. First Tier Tribunal [2013] UKSC 19, [2013] 2 AC 48. This may be an important exception, certainly more than the one that exists in Germany for “indefinite legal terms.” But it is still quite narrow (among other things because the English adjudicative system operates in a highly judicialized fashion and because it doesn’t capture the many consequential forms of administrative policymaking outside the tribunal system).605See, e.g., Peter Cane, Administrative Tribunals and Adjudication 269–72 (2010) (discussing important differences and characteristics of the U.K. tribunal system).

Continue across seas and oceans to Australia. There, too, no matter how broadly you might look, you won’t see any Australian Chevron in sight. The idea of explicit judicial deference to the administration on questions of law in Australia would be almost heretical. The High Court in Australia holds to the view that the principle of constitutional separation of powers there mandates a strong Marburyesque control of judges over statutory interpretation in general.606Janina Boughey, A Perspective from a Jurisdiction Without a Doctrine of Deference: Australia, Blogger: Balkinization (Oct. 2, 2023), https://balkin.blogspot.com/2023/10/a-perspective-from-jurisdiction-without.html [https://perma.cc/AFX3-L3CH]. No deference is allowed.607See, e.g., Margaret Allars, Chevron in Australia: A Duplicitous Rejection?, 54 Admin. L. Rev. 569, 583 (2002). In fact, in a famous judgment from 2000, called Enfield, the Australian High Court, explicitly referring to Chevron, has rejected the possibility of having an indigenous Chevron doctrine in Australia.608Corp. of the City of Enfield v, Dev. Assessment Comm’n [2000] HCA 5, ¶ 41 (Austl.).

Go now to Israel. The Israeli administrative law system similarly doesn’t have anything like Chevron. Judges there have full control over determining the meaning of statutory terms applied by executive departments. The issue is entirely and fully judicially led.609See, e.g., Margit Cohn, Judicial Deference to the Administration in Israel, in Deference to the Administration in Judicial Review: Comparative Perspectives 231, 266 (Goubin Zhu ed., 2019). In fact, as in Australia, the Israeli Supreme Court also had an opportunity to opine on the possibility of an Israeli Chevron (or, more accurately, an Israeli Auer doctrine) that acknowledges some place for explicit interpretive deference to the executive as late as 2021.610Auer v. Robbins, 519 U.S. 452, 457–58 (1997). But, again as in Australia, the Court said emphatically no and declined the invitation.611CivA 4960/18 Seligman v. Phoenix Ins. Corp. (2021) (Isr.).

Go now to France. There, the situation is again very much the same. What in French is sometimes called the “État de droit” (roughly, the principle of a “state committed to law”) is understood by French courts, and especially the Conseil d’Etat, to require total judicial control over statutory interpretation.612See, e.g., Martenet, supra note 145, at 116–17.

Finally, expand your gaze to the European Union. No surprise there as well: European courts also deny the existence of any formal deference to administration on questions of law.613See, e.g., Paul Craig, Judicial Review of Questions of Law: A Comparative Perspective, in Comparative Administrative Law 389, 400–01 (Susan Rose-Ackerman et al. eds., 2d ed. 2017).

We could have potentially gone even farther and wider to other places, but we would have likely come back with very similar results.614See generally Deference to the Administration in Judicial Review: Comparative Perspectives (Guobin Zhu ed., 2019) (discussing administrative deference regimes in Argentina, Australia, China, Czech Republic, Denmark, the EU, Finland, Hong Kong, Israel, Italy, Japan, the Netherlands, New Zealand, Poland, Singapore, Sweden, and the United States); Judicial Review of Administrative Discretion in the Administrative State (Jurgen de Poorter et al. eds., 2019) (surveying the law in the EU, the Netherlands, and the U.K.).

3.  The Shallowness of the Comparative Analogy

Despite all this, at the end of the day, Justice Gorsuch’s comparativism in Buffington is deeply mistaken. The reality that other systems don’t have something like Chevron doesn’t support in any way or manner its overruling. It doesn’t even support the need for us to cut back on Chevron under existing conditions. Saying something like this is exactly the kind of example of the blunders that occur when doing VERY BAD comparative law. It obviously fails the test of a modest and experimentalist approach that I have argued is especially called for in the field of comparative administrative law.615See supra Section II.E.

Most clearly, Justice Gorsuch’s Chevron comparativism is shallow as shallow can be. He didn’t engage even in a minimal attempt to point out various crucial contextual differences amongst jurisdictions when he invoked the broad statement that other systems refused to adopt Chevron as a reinforcement for his call that so should we.616It is true that Justice Gorsuch’s invocation of comparative administrative law in Buffington was very brief. It was limited to one sentence, and it was accompanied by references to academic work including Barnett & Vinson, supra note 152, at 651; Eduardo Jordao & Susan Rose-Ackerman, Judicial Review of Executive Policymaking in Advanced Democracies: Beyond Rights Review, 66 Admin. L. Rev. 1, 8 (2014); Bernatt, supra note 145, at 313. But given the consequences of his position and given moreover how the academic references he cites are themselves pointing to the relevant more contextual and refined analysis, the critique of his invocation of comparative administrative law does seem fair. And it is certainly fair preemptively to the extent that otherwise this sort of shallow analysis might very well repeat itself in the pending Loper Bright and Relentless cases. Cumulatively at least, these differences significantly complicate any ability to infer something strong from that supposed refusal at present. To the contrary: they seem to strongly condemn such inference.

Start with the fact that many of the systems that Justice Gorsuch supposedly had in mind, including the ones discussed before which he might not have had in mind, are parliamentary systems. In such systems, the closer inter-branch connection makes it much easier for the political branches, in principle at least, to respond to determinations of statutory meaning by courts if they believed courts erred. And that response is more likely to represent the agencies’ view that was judicially rejected because, again, the government (which closely supervises agencies) usually controls the legislature.617See supra Section I.C. What’s more, and this encompasses also non-parliamentary systems (like France or the EU), evidence suggests that legislatures in other jurisdictions are more functional than the American Congress, which is notoriously known as a dysfunctional one (in large part perhaps because of its high degree of polarization and partisanship).618See, e.g., Graham K. Wilson, Congress in Comparative Perspective, 89 B.U. L. Rev. 827, 829 (2009).

Continue with the fact that, as we’ve already seen in the context of the discussion of the regime of guidance domestication in the U.K.,619See supra Section III.A. other jurisdictions don’t necessarily have similar processes for formulating general policies as we do in America. Indeed, the notice-and-comment process is somewhat globally unique certainly in its scope and legal foundations. In most other countries, agencies formulate general policies without public notice and participation. They submit such policies to other kinds of processes, more political or traditional in nature, like internal executive branch scrutiny procedures as well as to the attention and sometimes confirmation of their legislatures.620For an illuminating discussion about the kinds of political mechanisms that are used abroad to safeguard the act of rulemaking, see generally Michael Asimow, Gabriel Bocksang Hola, Marie Cirotteau, Yoav Dotan & Thomas Perroud, Between the Agency and the Court: Ex Ante Review of Regulation, 68 Am. J. Compar. L. 332 (2020). To the extent that agencies in other jurisdictions engage in more public comment procedures, it is much less systematic and spotty. It can result from specific statutory obligations they have in certain substantive statutes or because they seek such public engagement voluntarily.621See Rose-Ackerman, supra note 560, at 146–83. Though a movement to intensify the process of public engagement in general policymaking in other countries may be under way, as we also saw previously in the discussion of guidance,622       See supra notes 537–57 and accompanying text; see also Melissa Johns & Valentina Saltane, Citizen Engagement in Rulemaking: Evidence on Regulatory Practices in 185 Countries 2 (World Bank Grp., Working Paper No. 7840, 2016). it should be noted that it is far from complete and still deeply uncertain.

This divergence can help explain why we don’t see Chevron abroad and do see it here. In jurisdictions that lack notice-and-comment procedures, more robust judicial review can “compensate” in some important sense for the more closed nature of the policymaking apparatus. By contrast, in America, where notice-and-comment is the default for development of general policymaking, such compensation is not similarly required. And while Chevron of course applies more broadly to agency decision-making beyond notice-and-comment, since Mead,623See generally United States v. Mead Corp., 533 U.S. 218 (2001) (establishing what is now known as Chevron Step Zero, that is—that Chevron will only apply in cases where Congress authorizes an agency to speak with “the force of law”). it is at least more likely to apply in that specific setting.

Justice Gorsuch’s invocation of comparative administrative law to elevate Chevron skepticism in America also ignores how judiciaries diverge across nations and systems. Germany for example has a specialized system of administrative law courts which are moreover divided to subject matters (like a labor administrative law court or a tax administrative law court).624See Pünder & Klafki, supra note 600, 78–81. Israel and the U.K. have general, non-specialized courts as they’re both part of the so-called common law or “Anglo-American tradition” of administrative law (as Justice Frankfurter has called it).625On the common law nature of the Israeli administrative law system, see Daphne Barak-Erez, English Administrative Law in the Holy Land: Tradition and Independence, in Judicial Review of Administrative Action Across the Common Law World: Origins and Adaptation 159, 159 (Swati Jhaveri & Michael Ramsden eds., 2021). But their highest judicial instances don’t have discretionary dockets.626See, e.g., Stephen Gardbaum, What Makes for More or Less Powerful Constitutional Courts?, 29 Duke J. Compar. & Int’l L. 1, 10–13 (2018) (discussing the comparative differences between apex courts’ control over their dockets and how it affects the legal system and their standing in it). This means that denying Chevron in those systems isn’t likely to create, even in the short term, inconsistent applications of the law. In the U.S., in contrast, things are quite different. Our judicial system is a generalist one and is also highly dispersed (indeed, our country is much bigger than many). And our Supreme Court has a highly discretionary docket (that also seems to gradually shrink with the years). As a result, Chevron seems to better protect consistency in statutory law under our unique American conditions.627See Strauss, supra note 518, at 1132 (emphasizing the virtues of federal legal consistency as a result of Chevron on the background of a diffuse judicial system like the U.S.).

Jurisdictions also diverge between them with respect to how they go about interpreting statutes in general. In many other jurisdictions outside the U.S., purposive, pragmatic, or dynamic theories of interpretation are well accepted and grounded. Indeed, courts outside America are quite comfortable looking to text, context, and purpose when they construct statutes.628For a somewhat dated account of various countries’ judicial approaches to statutory interpretation, but that is still roughly true today, see generally Interpreting Statutes: A Comparative Study (D. Neil MacCormick & Robert S. Summers eds., 1991). They don’t proudly announce, as we in the U.S. are doing now, that “we’re all textualists now.”629Harvard L. Sch., The Scalia Lecture: A Dialogue with Justice Kagan on the Reading of Statutes, YouTube (Nov. 17, 2015), https://youtu.be/dpEtszFT0Tg?feature=shared&t=509 [https://perma.cc/MEY7-HGRS] (Justice Kagan commenting that she thinks “we’re all textualists now” is more true than the famous phrase “we’re all realists now”). This divergence also substantially complicates our ability to infer something clear about the lack of Chevron abroad. For one thing, the dominance of purposivism outside the U.S. could mean that courts and agencies’ views about how to read statutes may not be so divergent. The type of reasoning expected from both courts and agencies about how to read statutes could be the same. They might very well reach similar conclusions compared to a system such as ours in which agencies may be more purposive while courts more textualist.630For this interpretive divergence between courts and agencies, and a defense of that divergence in the American context, see, e.g., Michael Herz, Purposivism and Institutional Competence in Statutory Interpretation, 2009 Mich. St. L. Rev. 89, 116–21 (2009). In addition, the dominance of purposivism, pragmatism, or dynamism outside the U.S. means that the consequences of having something like Chevron there would not have meant what we would expect from it here. If purposivism is the reigning statutory interpretation paradigm, courts under Chevron could have concluded that it is unreasonable for agencies to just rely on the simple meaning of the text. That they actually need to stretch the text given a statute’s context or purpose.631See, e.g., Jordao & Rose-Ackerman, supra note 616, at 18–21 (raising the possibility of textual stretching in jurisdictions committed to purposivist statutory interpretation theories).

Finally, and not entirely unrelatedly to the point about theories of statutory interpretation, the kind of judicial culture of strong hostility to the administrative state that we see in America, is generally quite foreign outside of it. Judges don’t generally see administration as such a threat to the rule of law in many other liberal democracies. Rather, they “trust[] and accept[]” administration.632Eberhard Schmidt-Aβmann & Christoph Möllers, The Scope and Accountability of Executive Power in Germany, in The Executive and Public Law: Power and Accountability in Comparative Perspective 268, 286 (Paul Craig & Adam Tomkins eds., 2006). They often see it not only as constitutionally permissible, but even mandatory.633On the constitutional concept of a positive state in Germany and Canada, see Dieter Grimm, Proportionality in Canadian and German Constitutional Jurisprudence, 57 U. Toronto L.J. 383, 391 (2007). Deep “anti-administrativism”634Metzger, supra note 389, at 3. hasn’t, in other words, gone global just yet. This means that even without an explicit Chevron regime, courts are more likely than not to reach the same conclusions as the administration did (even if they would need to do more “work,” so to speak, to get there, including by performing de novo statutory interpretation). More broadly, this means that the consequences of a legal regime that has no Chevron are simply much less meaningful than in a system like our own that does exhibit some vivid measure of judicial “anti-administrativism.”

All this highlights just how plainly erroneous it was to suggest, as Justice Gorsuch did in Buffington, that the comparative absence of Chevron indicates that we could also easily say goodbye to it here, or even just cut it back. Justice Gorsuch ignored all the institutional and contextual details that matter, or should matter, when one tries to engage in (serious) comparative administrative law.

4.  The Cherry-Pickiness of the Comparative Analogy

But Justice Gorsuch’s comparative shallowness in Buffington in fact stretches even beyond that. Justice Gorsuch’s suggestion that Chevron doesn’t exist abroad misses the fact that interpretive deference is actually a growing theme in foreign jurisdictions, which is gradually gaining some important adherence. Indeed, even though the consequences of having Chevron abroad would be different, as we just saw, that does not mean that systems are not drawn to it.

So, for example, in the U.K. where the possibility of judges deferring to executive interpretations has been emphatically rejected (at least outside the context of interpretations by administrative tribunals),635See supra notes 603–05 and accompanying text. there are now scholarly voices that suggest that extending deference in the U.K. beyond that context would be overall desirable.636See Paul Craig, Administrative Law 509–10 (9th ed. 2021) (arguing that the English approach of refusing judicial deference is not “logically compelled” and that at least with respect to statutory terms susceptible to multiple interpretations the “ordinary courts’ interpretation . . . will not necessarily be better than that of the primary decision-maker”). In Israel, as discussed before, the Supreme Court has recently rejected something like Auer deference explicitly.637See supra note 611 and accompanying text. But the decision itself was only 5-4 against. And given broader changes that were occurring in Israeli constitutional politics, it is not without question that the tables will in the end turn.638See, e.g., Hadas Gold, Richard Allen Greene & Amir Tal, Israel Passed a Bill to Limit the Supreme Court’s Power. Here’s What Comes Next, CNN: Meanwhile in the Middle East (July 24, 2023, 10:51 AM), https://www.cnn.com/2023/07/24/middleeast/israel-judicial-reforms-vote-explained-mime-intl/index.html [https://perma.cc/E8P2-UUZR] (discussing the major reforms that are presently occurring in Israel with respect to the judicial system). More broadly speaking, other jurisdictions also have various techniques to grant deference to agencies even if on a formal level they don’t have anything like Chevron. And scholars sometimes note that courts rely on these techniques more systematically or with more enthusiasm than in the past. For instance, European courts have sometimes resorted to classifying issues that could have been classified as “legal” matters, which get no deference, to “factual” or merit issues that do.639See Craig, supra note 613, at 401. Australia has also arguably seen similar techniques with more intensity.640For discussion of such maneuvering in the Australian context, see Janina Boughey, Re-Evaluating the Doctrine of Deference in Administrative Law, 45 Fed. L. Rev. 597, 612 (2017). And similarly with other jurisdictions and places.641See, e.g., Alison L. Young, Fact/Law – a Flawed Distinction?, U.K. Const. L. Blog. (May 21, 2013), https://ukconstitutionallaw.org/2013/05/21/alison-l-young-factlaw-a-flawed-distinction [https://perma.cc/GV58-VV8X]; Paul Daly, The Unfortunate Triumph of Form over Substance in Canadian Administrative Law, 50 Osgoode Hall L.J. 317 (2012).

This movement I have just described toward embracing more judicial deference to agencies in interpretive affairs, whether explicitly or implicitly, is of course not entirely surprising given the globalization and fluidity process previously detailed in Section II.B. To the extent, for example, that legislative policymaking has become harder even in parliamentary systems, the attractiveness of something like Chevron increases dramatically there, too.

Related to the moves that we’re seeing in the direction of having more Chevron-like features in other systems around the world, it should be noted that Justice Gorsuch’s broad comparative statement in Buffington, that other systems “declined to adopt” something similar, does seem to have quite a big hole in it.642Buffington v. McDonough, 143 S. Ct. 14, 14–22 (2022). That statement ignores the situation that is occurring in the legal system of our neighbor, Canada, which, though it doesn’t have something exactly like Chevron, is not that incredibly far away from getting one.

Indeed, Canada seems to be one of two other jurisdictions in the world (as far as I know at least)643The other jurisdiction is South Africa, though I do not discuss that jurisdiction here in large part because the regime of deference there is characterized by features of the unique post-Apartheid regime there that make the comparative exercise deeply complex. See, e.g., Geo Quinot, Deference in South African Administrative Law, Blogger: Balkinization (Oct. 3, 2023), https://balkin.blogspot.com/2023/10/deference-in-south-african.html [https://perma.cc/M7QN-K6SK]. This contribution is in fact part of a broader symposium that took place after the acceptance of this article for publication and which the author of the present article co-edited. See Susan Rose-Ackerman & Oren Tamir, The Chevron Doctrine Through the Lens of Comparative Administrative Law: Introduction to a Symposium, Blogger: Balkinization (Sept. 27, 2023), https://balkin.blogspot.com/2023/09/the-chevron-doctrine-through-lens-of.html [https://perma.cc/3AK9-XED4]; Susan Rose-Ackerman & Oren Tamir, Comparative Administrative Law: Is the US an Outlier? A Concluding Essay, Blogger: Balkinization (Oct. 17, 2023), https://balkin.blogspot.com/2023/10/comparative-administrative-law-is-us.html [https://perma.cc/PJX8-29HW]. that, like us, explicitly and unapologetically recognizes that judges do not get to exclusively “say what the law is”644Sunstein, supra note 603, at 2591–93. when administrative agencies that oversee statutes interpret them. In other words, like in the United States, judges also need to defer to reasonable statutory interpretations by agencies.

Canada’s modern acceptance of interpretive deference dates back in some sense already to 1979, even prior to our own Chevron.645See C.U.P.E. v. N.B. Liquor Corp., [1979] 2 S.C.R. 227, 228 (Can.). But that principle is now firmly and clearly grounded in Canadian administrative law—confirmed once more in a seminal recent decision by the Canadian Supreme Court from 2019 in a case called Vavilov.646Canada (Minister of Citizenship and Immigr.) v. Vavilov, [2019] 4 S.C.R. 653, para. 313 (Can.).

Interestingly for present purposes, and importantly as well, Canada’s own deference regime might be said to have gotten closer to the Chevron-regime with time. In the past, deference in Canada was closer to what we know in the United States from Skidmore.647Skidmore v. Swift & Co., 323 U.S. 134, 140 (1944) (“We consider that the rulings, interpretations and opinions of the Administrator under this Act, while not controlling upon the courts by reason of their authority, do constitute a body of experience and informed judgment to which courts and litigants may properly resort for guidance.”). The duty to defer was recognized. But to decide when to defer (and how strongly that deference ought to be), Canadian courts used to engage in a more contextual inquiry which looked for example to the kind of expertise that agencies possess (in general and in the particular instances) or to the specific provisions they seek to interpret.648See Pushpanathan v. Canada (Minister of Citizenship and Immigr.), [1998] 1 S.C.R. 982, paras. 32–41 (Can.). Courts’ analysis of the deference question at the time was labeled “functional and pragmatic.”649Id. at para. 49.

The Canadian Supreme Court tried to go more rule-like and was edging slowly closer to Chevron in its judgment in a case called Dunsmuir from 2008.650Dunsmuir v. New Brunswick, 2008 SCC 9, [2008] 1 S.C.R. 190, para. 72 (Can.). There, the Court specifically walked back from the “functional and pragmatic” approach that it had endorsed before. Rather, it simplified the inquiry into when Canadian courts should defer to reasonable interpretations by agencies. Under this reformed framework, which the Canadian Supreme Court called the “standard of review analysis,”651Id. at para. 63. courts should defer to agencies’ interpretations of statutes if they’re reasonable in all cases except in “certain categories of issues where the promotion of certainty, finality, and predictability trumped the values served by deference.”652Audrey Macklin, A Short History of Standard of Review, in Administrative Law in Context 307, 320 (Colleen M. Flood & Paul Daly eds., 4th ed. 2022). The Canadian Supreme Court moreover identified four “non-exhaustive” categories where deference should not be accorded under this standard, and courts should engage in de novo review:653Id. First, when the issue presents a question of law “of central importance to the legal system as a whole.”654Dunsmuir v. New Brunswick, 2008 SCC 9, [2008] 1 S.C.R. 190, para. 60 (Can.). Second, in constitutional questions.655Macklin, supra note 652, at 320. Third, in what the Canadian Supreme Court called in Dunsmuir “true” questions of jurisdiction in which an agency “must explicitly determine whether its statutory grant of power gives it authority to decide a particular matter.”656Id. (citing Dunsmuir v. New Brunswick, 2008 SCC 9, [2008] 1 S.C.R. 190, para. 59 (Can.)). Finally, “questions regarding the jurisdictional lines” between two or more agencies.657Id. (citing Dunsmuir v. New Brunswick, 2008 SCC 9, [2008] 1 S.C.R. 190, para. 60 (Can.)).

Dunsmuir’s attempt to create more of a rule-like framework for deference didn’t fully succeed, however. One important reason for that was that the Canadian Supreme Court justified deference to administration in Dunsmuir based on agencies’ expertise.658See Paul Daly, Big Bang Theory: Vavilov’s New Framework for Substantive Review, in Administrative Law in Context 327, 339 (Colleen M. Flood & Paul Daly eds., 4th ed. 2022). But that led to various instances where courts and litigators started to question whether agencies’ decisions in specific instances truly reflect expertise and to the denial of a more deferential judicial inquiry.659Id. at 339–44.

And so, in 2019, Vavilov, the Canadian Supreme Court entered the fray again edging even closer to Chevron. In Vavilov, the Court strengthened its holding in Dunsmuir, highlighting that the rationale underlying deference isn’t expertise as such (or isn’t expertise in a manner that justifies denying review of the reasonableness of the agency’s proposed interpretation and transforming the analysis to de novo judicial review).660Canada (Minister of Citizenship and Immigr.) v. Vavilov, [2019] 4 S.C.R. 653, para. 30 (Can.). Rather, the Vavilov Court said that the justification for deference to reasonable interpretations is grounded in legislative choice; that the “very fact that the legislature has chosen to delegate authority” is what justifies deference to reasonable agency interpretations.661Id. As a result, a relatively strong presumption of deference is now the law of the land in Canada.662See Daly, supra note 658, at 339. The only cases that the Court said could justify courts to not review agencies’ interpretations under a deferential standard are when the legislature specifically mandated differently or when the rule of law requires it.663More precisely, when a statute either explicitly provides a right of appeal to a court of any sort or when it explicitly mandates on the standard of review. See Vavilov, [2019] 4 S.C.R. at paras. 34, 36. And though the “rule of law”664Id. at para. 53. category is a broad standard, the Court’s understanding of the category seems minimal and encompasses cases that raise “constitutional questions, general questions of law of central importance to the legal system as a whole and questions regarding the jurisdictional boundaries between two or more administrative bodies.”665Id.

To clarify once more: Canada’s deference regime, even following Vavilov, is not precisely like Chevron. There are important differences here. Most clearly, the Vavilov doctrine doesn’t have a two-step framework like Chevron, but rather deference on interpretive issues is granted holistically without insisting that courts first determine if terms are ambiguous or not. Moreover, deference in Canada is only achieved after a court conducts “reasonableness” review. And that review can be somewhat rigorous, not that far in fact from the kind of analysis we see U.S. courts perform sometimes under State Farm666Motor Vehicle Mfrs. Ass’n of the U.S., Inc. v. State Farm Mut. Auto. Ins. Co., 463 U.S. 29, 52 (1983). and its requirement of “reasoned decisionmaking.”667For an illuminating discussion of the Canadian approach to reasonableness post-Vavilov and how it resembles the “reasoned decisionmaking” standard in American administrative law, including given the emphasis on actual reason-giving by the administrative agency as a condition for deference under a reasonableness standard, see Paul Daly, Vavilov and the Culture of Justification in Contemporary Administrative Law, 100 Sup. Ct. L. Rev. 279, 283–84 (2021). See also Janina Boughey, The Culture of Justification in Administrative Law: Rationales and Consequences, 54 U. Brit. Colum. L. Rev. 403, 412–15 (2021). And, of course, to the possibility that Chevron itself could contain an inquiry into “reasoned decisionmaking,” see Ronald M. Levin, The Anatomy of Chevron: Step Two Reconsidered, 72 Chi.-Kent L. Rev. 1253, 1263–1271 (1997). In addition, Canadian courts may exemplify more confidence than courts in the United States to intervene rather than to defer under this reasonableness analysis, for example, because they’re aware that there is more of a possibility in the Canadian system for Parliament to respond and correct erroneous interventions,668For the metaphor of judicial and political “dialogue” in Canada, which is strong in constitutional law but arguably spills over also to the context of administrative law, see Kent Roach, Sharpening the Dialogue Debate: The Next Decade of Scholarship, 45 Osgoode Hall L.J. 169, 171–77 (2007).  or because the legal culture in Canada seems more trusting in general in the ability of judges to improve administration.669See, e.g., David Dyzenhaus, The Politics of Deference: Judicial Review and Democracy, in The Province of Administrative Law 279, 306–07 (Michael Taggart ed., 1997) (describing the approach of Canadian courts to deference as “deference as respect” and contrasting it with an approach, more American in nature, of “deference as submission”); see also Yoav Dotan, Deference and Disagreement in Administrative Law, 71 Admin. L. Rev. 761, 772–74 (2019) (distinguishing between “disagreement deference” and “avoidance deference”).

Still, the fact that Canada, as well as other jurisdictions like Israel or the EU and maybe even the U.K. and Australia, are also moving in the direction of enhancing their own deference regimes (either explicitly or more implicitly) is telling. It indicates once again just how superficial Justice Gorsuch’s invocation of comparative administrative law in Buffington was. It failed to recognize that even systems that seem on paper at least to have less of a reason to increase deference to administration are nonetheless drawn to do so.

5.  The Abusiveness of the Comparative Analogy

But Justice Gorsuch’s comparative move in Buffington has one last flaw worth emphasizing. Not only was it shallow and even selective and cherry-picky; it was also likely abusive.

We should not be naïve. Justice Gorsuch’s opinion in Buffington did not come from nowhere. As we’ve seen before, we are in a context where there is an intense attack on our administrative state, trying to cut its wings further and further.670See supra Section II.D. Unsurprisingly, Chevron deference is a crucial arena where this battle is being fought. And Justice Gorsuch’s move in Buffington was a clear attempt to advance that cause. By referring to foreign practice, Justice Gorsuch tried to appear as though the consequences of overruling Chevron or significantly cutting it back would be completely benign. After all, if other systems don’t have it, and those systems survive just fine, why can’t we? But cutting back on Chevron significantly now would not be benign. Not only do other jurisdictions have arguably good reasons that we lack to not adopt Chevron (as we have seen), but Chevron also seems quite important at present to maintain the “minimum core” of our constitutionally legitimate administrative state.671See supra Sections II.D–II.E; Harlow, supra note 400, at 189–95 and accompanying text.

Recall how the overall Chevron regime today exactly looks. First, we have Mead that limits the domain of Chevron only to cases where delegations have the “force of law.”672United States v. Mead Corp., 533 U.S. 218, 226–27 (2001). Second, and as a result of very recent developments, we have a new and potentially highly expansive “major questions” doctrine that denies deference and requires affirmative congressional legislation before an agency can proceed in issues that have significant political or economic ramifications.673West Virginia v. EPA, 142 S. Ct. 2587, 2595 (2022). For analysis, see Daniel T. Deacon & Leah M. Litman, The New Major Questions Doctrine, 109 Va. L. Rev. 1009 (2023) (identifying the emergence of the “new “ major questions doctrine and framing it as a clear statement rule). Third, we also have a judiciary that is more and more confident in finding when congress directly speaks to the question at hand, under Chevron Step I, in large part because the judiciary is more textualist today (and more eager to narrow statutes’ domain).674See, e.g., Jeffrey A. Pojanowski, Without Deference, 81 Mo. L. Rev. 1075, 1081–85 (2016) (arguing that a world with Chevron and a world without Chevron would not be that different given the way judges have been feeling increasingly more comfortable to find that statutes are unambiguous under Chevron’s Step I); see also Scalia, supra note 184, at 521 (indicating that he himself as a judge used to find “that the meaning of a statute is apparent from its text”); Victoria Nourse, Loper Bright in Larger Interpretive Perspective: Is This Justice Scalia’s Court Anymore?, 31 Geo. Mason L. Rev. 601, 608 (2024) (reporting on ongoing empirical work which suggests that the Roberts Court’s textualist tendency is reliably tilted toward narrowing statutes’ domain). Finally, we have a judiciary that has grown much more hostile of the administrative state, if not entirely skeptical of its constitutionality.675See generally Metzger, supra note 389 (describing the judicial hostility of the current Roberts Court to the administrative state); see also Jarkesy v. SEC, 803 F.3d 9, 24–25, 29–30 (D.C. Cir. 2022).

With all this in the background, it becomes increasingly hard to see how further significant cutbacks on the already frail deferential Chevron regime aren’t really about “just” making our administrative law more restrictive toward administration and thus more protective of, say, values like the rule of law or private liberty, which can be reasonably disputed. Rather, it becomes more and more convincing to see such a move as one whose goal is to entirely shrink the space for independent administrative action in the context of statutory interpretation and therefore threaten what Section II.E argued was the administrative state’s “minimum core.” The invocation of comparative practice to suggest otherwise—as though the further cutbacks on Chevron are plain vanilla or just an incident of innocent learning from others in a potentially more global dialogue—is deeply misleading. And when it is done in such a shallow, acontextual, and selective way (as it was in Justice Gorsuch’s opinion in Buffington), it begins to look like a textbook case for an “abusive” use of comparative administrative law.676See supra Section II.E.

For all these reasons, it should be clear why Justice Gorsuch’s comparativism in Buffington ought to be emphatically rejected. Comparative administrative law doesn’t support anything like what he had suggested. It is actually quite the reverse.

And in the forthcoming Loper Bright and Relentless cases, coming any day now, this is exactly what the Supreme Court should say. If the Court in Loper Bright and Relentless wishes to go ahead and significantly cut-back on Chevron or overrule it, without any further changes in our law, it is welcome to do so. But it should at least expose itself to criticism rather than hide behind the posture of shallow, acontextual, and abusive comparative administrative law.

6.  Beyond Buffington, Loper Bright, and Relentless: The Future of Chevron Through the Lens of Comparative Law

Once all this is said and done, though, the fact that comparative administrative law can’t justify today either overruling or even dramatically shrinking Chevron deference, shouldn’t mean that this will be so forever and ever. For one thing, as previously suggested, what makes the invocation of comparative administrative law as support for such dramatic consequences potentially abusive are the factors in the existing regime of Chevron deference, which cumulatively characterize such a move as unreasonably limiting—including the existence of a revamped major questions doctrine or a highly restrictive form of textualism. As a result, and at least to avoid that specific charge, the Court could significantly restrain the potential implications of this new major questions doctrine,677For an argument suggesting what this author believes are highly productive ways to constrain the major questions doctrine and making it a respectable doctrinal tool in the U.S. context, much like it exists in other places around the world, see Oren Tamir, Getting Right What’s Wrong with the Major Questions Doctrine, 62 Colum. J. Transnat’l L. (forthcoming 2024). or soften its rigid, statutory domain–reducing, textualism. This would at least make the consequences of such a move not so dramatically harmful (even if it won’t, I hasten to emphasize, make that move attractive overall).

In addition, and more importantly for my purposes here, the reality according to which so many different systems refused to endorse something exactly like Chevron should prove nonetheless provocative. It triggers the question of whether we might in the future at least be better off without Chevron as well, or at least whether we should not try and move in this direction modestly and experimentally.

And, indeed, it would be wrong to think (as some seem to have boldly argued)678See Nicholas R. Bednar & Kristin E. Hickman, Chevron’s Inevitability, 85 Geo. Wash. L. Rev. 1392, 1443 (2017). that Chevron is in some sense “inevitable” for us. To the contrary: Chevron didn’t necessarily get us to a good place, even if today, under present conditions, cutting back on it would be harmful and abusive. Chevron, after all, didn’t create a simple or stable regime. The inevitable discussions about its varying steps zero, one, one-and-a-half, or two is a strong indication of that, as well as the cottage industry of commentary that has developed around it trying to figure out those steps ad nauseam.679See, e.g., Jack M. Beermann, End the Failed Chevron Experiment Now: How Chevron Has Failed and Why It Can and Should Be Overruled, 42 Conn. L. Rev. 779, 809–41 (2010).

Moreover, and I think much more importantly, it is unclear as well if the Chevron framework channeled the kinds of debates that would be productive and healthy to have in our administrative law—about the place of administration in society and what it should achieve—into a constructive framework. Yes, Chevron is sometimes described as a manifestation of legal realism, reflecting the fact that law sometimes “runs out.”680See, e.g., Cass R. Sunstein, Beyond Marbury: The Executive’s Power to Say What the Law Is, 115 Yale L.J. 2580, 2591–93 (2006); Adrian Vermeule, Neo-?, 133 Harv. L. Rev. F. 103, 108–10 (2020). And, certainly for this present author, realism is an attractive feature. But, in all honesty, Chevron isn’t deeply realist at all. Quite the contrary. Chevron still preserves a rather strict, indeed highly formalistic, division between law and politics, suggesting that some things are appropriately law (like discerning when Congress speaks directly to an issue) and some things are not (with increasing frequency, basically anything beyond that).681For a brilliant, though unfortunately neglected, classic that makes this persuasive argument, see generally Keith Werhan, The Neoclassical Revival in Administrative Law, 44 Admin. L. Rev. 567 (1992). As a result, and at least given the way our legal culture has evolved, Chevron created a kind of dynamic that systematically removes the discussion in our administrative law away from what really matters, or what should matter.

On one hand, conservatives and those who are worried about robust administration from the political right are increasingly drawn to thicken the “law” side in Chevron, relying on textualist or other formalistic machinations to suggest how law, properly understood, doesn’t “run out” and constrain administration (mostly at Step I).682Jeffrey Pojanowski, Comment, The Future of Chevron Deference: Of Zombie Fungus and Acoustic Separation, Yale J. on Regul. (June 21, 2018), https://www.yalejreg.com/nc/the-future-of-chevron-deference-of-zombie-fungus-and-acoustic-separation-by-jeffrey-pojanowski [https://perma.cc/7P6Q-ANCK]. Instead of relying on more prescriptive reasons to suggest why administration should in fact be constrained (because it may be arbitrary or unjustifiably harsh on private entrepreneurship or freedom), their formalistic language tends to either ignore those reasons at all or is simply hiding the ball. For their part, liberals and progressives from the center and the left of politics also face an unattractive choice of their own under present conditions: they can rely on the more prescriptive side of Chevron, which calls for policy considerations and reasons grounded in effects on the real world of policymaking, and thus bite the bullet in the face of the conservative formalistic game (mostly at Step II). That might have worked well in the past. But in the face of an increasingly formalistic bench, not anymore. As a result, progressives have turned to a second option—embracing their own version of formalism or “progressive textualism” that again hides the ball (even if it sophisticatedly shows that formalism can reach attractive results for progressives as well).683Kevin Tobia, Brian G. Slocum & Victoria Nourse, Progressive Textualism, 110 Geo. L.J. 1437, 1443–44 (2022).

Judges in administrative law are either playing the same game or are caught in the same dilemma. And the fights continue ahead with no resolution in sight, even enhancing our system’s polarization between conservatives and progressives, supporters of judicial review and critics, and more.684For an account of the various attacks on deference in the administrative state, see generally Christopher J. Walker, Attacking Auer and Chevron Deference: A Literature Review, 16 Geo. J.L. & Pub. Pol’y 103 (2018).

A more faithfully realist and potentially constructive framework for our system might therefore be one that would indeed do away with Chevron root and branch. Instead of assuming a formalistic division between law and policy, as Chevron does with the two-step it imposes, an alternative framework could be something more like we see today in Canada following the Canadian Supreme Court’s judgment in Vavilov. According to this approach, any issue of statutory interpretation should start with a presumption of deference, with no Step I or Step II or anything before, after, or in between. However, working on the background of this strong deferential presumption, which of course reflects and admits the value of agency decision-making as a general matter, judges would still be able to review the “reasonableness” of agencies’ statutory interpretation and, specifically, if agencies have given, in the jargon familiar to us from the State Farm case and its progeny, a “reasoned explanation” for their interpretive choices, including an explanation that sensibly combines or mixes between considerations that stem from either text, structure, and precedent (on the one hand) or from policy (on the other hand). And, if courts end up finding that these explanations are wanting (that is, and again using the relevant jargon, that they’re not sufficiently “reasoned”), agencies will then be able to go back to the board and try again; that is—see if they can on another try earn the judicial deference the presumption should regularly afford to them (including by presenting a more persuasive mix between the socio-legal, socio-technical, and socio-political reasons for their actions).

This sort of Canadian-inspired framework for administrative deference does appear to me to have the potential to move us into a more constructive place on the issue of judicial review of agencies’ statutory interpretation choices. It gets rid of the artificial and formalistic distinctions that Chevron perversely creates. It channels discussions about statutory interpretation not to what law or policy truly is and binary tradeoffs between them, but rather to the questions of the appropriate reasons and justifications for administrative action, recognizing that law and politics exist on all sides. And, again quite importantly, this framework also has something important for all sides in the currently deeply polarized environment of our administrative state, imagining a new place where, once again, contending forces might potentially “come to rest.”685Wong Yang Sung v. McGrath, 339 U.S. 33, 40 (1950).

True, under this new, Canadian-inspired framework, critics of administration from mostly the right of politics do not get judges who always determine “what the law is.”686Sunstein, supra note 603, at 2591–93. Deference is recognized, accepted, and entrenched. Agencies can moreover get a second chance to come back with more forceful reasoning. But, under this new Canadian-inspired approach, critics of administration do get to preserve judicial review of administration across the board, without pockets of deep or absolute deference where law supposedly “runs out.”

And true, under this new, Canadian-inspired framework, supporters of administration from mostly the left and center of politics lose the form of authoritative deference with its complete immunity from judicial intervention that agencies may enjoy today under Chevron. But, at the same time, supporters of administration do emphatically earn under this new Canadian-derived framework a strong and robust presumption of deference across the board. And they also get a framework that is overall much more sympathetic to a view of law and administration that is pragmatic, prescriptive, and sincere (rather than hides the ball).

This all strikes me as powerful reasons in favor of a Canadian -inspired approach to deference. And to the need for us to seriously consider, also from a perspective that is sympathetic to administrative power, discarding Chevron going forward.

But, of course, the fact that this kind of Canadian-inspired framework may sound theoretically attractive on paper, so to speak, doesn’t mean we can bring it here right away. A modest and experimentalist approach strongly counsels against that. After all, as we have seen, there are meaningful differences between the United States and Canada (and, for that matter, many of the other jurisdictions that have something different than Chevron), including a potentially more functional legislature, more purposive rather than formalist legal culture, and a judiciary that is not as deeply hostile to the administrative state as ours may presently be. The circumstances that make the Canadian approach work there don’t necessarily exist here.

Precisely because of this, the thought that the Loper Bright and Relentless cases would themselves be a potential vehicle to move the needle in this direction of a regime of deference seen in Canada, looks naïve. Indeed, the possibility for imagining a new deference regime that expands the possibilities of deference and does away with formalistic unhelpful distinctions between law and politics, seems to be deeply oppositional to the current “anti-administrativist” mood at the Court. This sort of anti-administrativist mood is likely the fact that explains why the Court has taken Loper Bright and Relentless in the first place.

That doesn’t mean, though, that this will be the case for now and until the end of times. Our legal culture isn’t static. It may be evolving as we speak. For instance, there is pressure on the Court to change, and that pressure may be growing (including by, in my view, not entirely obsolete discussions of “court reform”). Possibilities for meaningful reconsideration of our public law, including our administrative law, may be on the horizon—in ways that differ from where our present Court is trying to move us. If so, and to the extent that the Canadian approach does have presumptive appeal for this potential, though only dimly seen at this stage, future, there is no reason why we can’t start working to bring it about. A modest and experimentalist approach to comparative administrative law suggests not only that we perhaps should, but also how we could do it, no matter what the Court itself ends up saying in Loper Bright and Relentless—whether it eliminates Chevron, dramatically cuts it back or leaving it as a corpse.

IV.  PATHS FOR REVIVAL

My goal in the lengthy discussion leading up to this point has been to convince readers that it is both possible and desirable to revive comparative administrative law. That we need to make it a meaningful enterprise today, just as it was for the pioneers of the field and those who followed in their immediate footsteps. The “foreign point of view,” as Frank Goodnow called it, in our administrative law is truly missing these days.687See Goodnow, supra note 11, at v. And it is entirely to our detriment.

Assuming for the moment that I have succeeded in the ambitious task I have set to myself here, another question becomes important, though: How exactly can we bring this revival about?

Of course, as previously mentioned,688See supra Section II.B. there are already some promising signs that illustrate that comparative administrative law is starting to come to its own again, building on the increased fluidity and globalization of the field as detailed in Part II.B. Moreover, there is something slightly misleading about the question I’m asking. After all, the most important way to help bring comparative administrative law’s revival is not by fiat. Rather, it is to convince other people that it is both possible and worthwhile simply by doing it well. Nonetheless, given how much the enterprise happens to be marginalized in the discussion today in the U.S., it does seem valuable to consider some more institutional and systemic ways that could support and enhance the chances that we would indeed see the revival of comparative administrative law prevail.689Cf. Fontana, supra note 20, at 46–53 (considering institutional ways to enhance the attention being paid to comparative constitutional law). Given all that I had said above about both the virtues of the enterprise and its increased possibilities, taking such steps to nudge the rebirth of the field has, at a minimum, a strong presumptive case.

(1) The law school curriculum: One obvious place to start with here is in law schools. As previously mentioned, comparative administrative law isn’t currently being taught in most law schools on a regular basis.690See supra note 165. And comparative materials are moreover not integrated to the central casebooks or treatises in administrative law.691See supra note 159 and accompanying text. But there’s no strong reason why this can’t change, at least modestly or gradually. Offering an elective law school class or seminar on comparative administrative law would obviously be ideal.692In the vein of the classes offered occasionally at Yale and N.Y.U. School of Law, and the recent development at Harvard. See supra notes 165, 364, and accompanying texts. But even incorporating some foreign materials to general administrative law classes and to the central casebooks or treatises would be a significant improvement on the status quo. Law schools that already offer the possibility of comparative constitutional law classes or seminars might moreover consider whether the content of these classes should be adapted to include more on comparative administrative law.693See supra note 163 and accompanying text. In the future, it won’t be totally out of the question to consider replacing general comparative constitutional law classes, at least if they’re not supplemented by a separate comparative administrative law class, with a different class that would unify and mesh themes from both constitutional law and administrative law—perhaps with the new title of comparative public law. Such a change will obviously coincide with the trend evident across a growing number of law schools to move constitutional law away from the 1L curriculum and to replace it with mandatory LegReg or their iterations.694See, e.g., Manning & Stephenson, supra note 189, at 49. It will also coincide more broadly with the importance of administrative law even to the traditional common law subjects.695For one example of how the reality of administration should also impact other traditional common-law 1L classes, see Roderick M. Hills, Jr. & David Schleicher, What Is Property Law in an Age of Statutes and Regulation?: A Review of Property: Principles and Policies by Thomas Merrill, Henry Smith and Maureen Brady, 79 N.Y.U. Ann. Surv. Am. L. 89, 92–97 (2023).

(2) Scholarship: A related place worth going to for increasing the chances for the desired revival of comparative administrative law would obviously be the production of scholarship itself. In preparing classes, casebooks, or treatises, it should be reasonably easy for domestic U.S. public law scholars to draw on the now slowly increasing body of work in comparative administrative law—which is already in large part written in English.696See supra note 362 and accompanying text. But, of course, for the comparative administrative law field to truly catch on and achieve its promise, it’s important not just to draw on the existing pool. We need to work to expand it; that is, to create more scholarship in comparative administrative law that would complicate and broaden what we already know.

Given the present status quo of marginalization and the potential challenges of doing comparative administrative law, this is no small feat. But that doesn’t mean that there is no way to address the challenge. An especially important avenue to explore is to encourage and initiate co-authoring with foreign scholars.697For the theme in general in academia, see Annelise Rile, From Comparison to Collaboration: Experiments with a New Scholarly and Political Form, 78 L. & Contemp. Probs. 147, 147–50 (2015). Indeed, some of the most important contributions in the field of comparative administrative law, in the past and more recently, are a result of cross-national or cross-linguistic scholarly collaboration. For example, Professor Bernard Schwartz cooperated with the major English public law scholar Professor H.W.R. Wade to produce a still illuminating book that systematically compares the English and American administrative law systems in the 1970s.698See generally Bernard Schwartz & H.W.R. Wade, Legal Control of Government: Administrative Law in Britain and the United States (1972) (comparing the administrative systems and work of the judiciaries in the U.K. and the United States). And Professor Susan Rose-Ackerman699See, e.g., Susan Rose-Ackerman, Stefanie Egidy & James Fowkes, Due Process of Lawmaking: The United States, South Africa, Germany, and the European Union 1 (2015); Susan Rose-Ackerman & Edgar Andrés Melgar, Hyper-Presidential Administration: Executive Policymaking in Latin America, 64 Ariz. L. Rev. 1097, 1097–98 (2022); Jordao & Rose-Ackerman, supra note 616, at 1–2. and Michael Asimow700See, e.g., Asimow & Dotan, supra note 33, at 1. are more contemporary examples of scholars who consistently engage in scholarly collaborations with foreign scholars (with, I should add, substantial merit). In an ideal world, many domestic administrative law scholars will begin engaging in similar collaborations themselves. The previously discussed reality whereby more and more conferences are conducted specifically on comparative administrative law, and the emergence of transnational scholarly networks that engage in work of administrative comparison (especially in the European context),701See supra note 363 and accompanying text. suggests that the possibilities of academic collaborations are already meaningful and out there waiting to be exploited.702For another recent example of a fruitful scholarly contribution across the Pacific Ocean, see generally Andrew Edgar & Kevin M. Stack, Parallel Incorporation and Public Law, 21 Int’l J. Const. L. 734 (2023); Andrew Edgar & Kevin Stack, The Authority and Interpretation of Regulations, 82 Mod. L. Rev. 1009 (2019). And for a general argument for the need to increase scholarly collaboration to make comparative constitutional law more sustainable, see Rosalind Dixon, Toward A Realistic Comparative Constitutional Studies?, 64 Am. J. Compar. L. 193, 199 (2016).

(3) The bar and the government: Moving beyond law schools and the halls of the legal academy, there are other institutions that can assist in facilitating the likelihood of the comparative administrative law revival as well. The American Bar Association (“ABA”), and particularly its Administrative Law & Regulatory Practice section, is one such institution.703See Section of Administrative Law & Regulatory Practice, Am. Bar Ass’n, https://www.americanbar.org/groups/administrative_law [https://perma.cc/L6BH-QBQ8]. Today, the ABA’s interest in administrative law comparison is quite slim, probably a reflection of the general marginalization of the field today. Interestingly, however, that has not always been the case. Indeed, Professor Ronald Levin704See generally Ronald M. Levin, Frank Emmert & Christoph T. Feddersen, Administrative Law of the European Union: Judicial Review (George A. Bermann et al. eds., 2008). has collaborated in the past, under the ABA’s auspices, with other co-authors to produce a valuable book on the administrative law of the EU.705See generally Peter L. Lindseth, Alfred C. Aman & Alan Charles Raul, Administrative Law of the European Union: Oversight (George A. Bermann et al. eds., 2008). And the ABA actually has a richer past of administrative law comparison.706See Christopher J. Rowe, The American Bar Association Looks to England, 1924 and 1957, 61 Am. J. Legal Hist. 385, 388 (2021). This demonstrates that the ABA in principle certainly has the capacity be an institutional force for the acceleration and better assimilation of comparative administrative law into our system.

Another, and perhaps even more central, institution that should be of focus here is the Administrative Conference of the United States (“ACUS”), which is, of course, an enormously influential body in the administrative law space.707See, e.g., Gillian E. Metzger, Administrative Law, Public Administration, and the Administrative Conference of the United States, 83 Geo. Wash. L. Rev. 1517, 1534–39 (2015); Michael Herz, ACUS—and Administrative Law—Then and Now, 83 Geo. Wash. L. Rev. 1217, 1218–19 (2015). Alas, ACUS too has rarely drawn on comparative administrative law in its influential work, even though its position to bring in different scholars as well as practitioners from the field, and to influence the field’s trajectories, is in some sense unparalleled.708As far as I am aware, out of the many reports and recommendations issued by ACUS since its founding, only four refer to comparative practice. See Administrative Conference Recommendation 2011–6, International Regulatory Cooperation, 77 Fed. Reg. 2259, 2259 (Jan. 17, 2012); ACUS 2012–7, Agency Use of Third-Party Programs to Assess Regulatory Compliance, 78 Fed. Reg. 2491, 2941 (Jan. 15, 2013). The report looks at the role of the International Organization for Standardization (“ISO”) and other international standard setting organizations. See Lesley K. McAllister, Third-Party Programs to Assess Regulatory Compliance 1–3 (2012), https://www.acus.gov/sites/default/files/documents/Third-Party-Programs-Report_Final.pdf [https://perma.cc/V2B7-7S6B]; Federal Agency Cooperation with Foreign Government Regulators (Recommendation No. 91–1), 56 Fed. Reg. 33841, 33842 (July 24, 1991); Administrative Conference Recommendation 2016–15, The Ombudsman in Federal Agencies, 81 Fed. Reg. 94312, 94316 (Dec. 23, 2016). There is no reason, though, why ACUS can’t change tack on that, too—either by mandating more projects that draw on administrative law comparison or bringing in experts from foreign jurisdictions to react, respond, and enrich its various reports and recommendations. Finally, the Office of the Attorney General of the United States (“AG Office”) has a somewhat more hidden role in contemporary administrative law. It is officially in charge of the interpretation and the implementation of the APA across the federal government. And on occasion it does use its role to express its views about broad administrative law issues of the day (even quite controversially).709See Memorandum from the Off. of the Att’y Gen. on the Prohibition on Improper Guidance Documents (Nov. 16, 2017), https://www.justice.gov/opa/press-release/file/1012271/download [https://perma.cc/J22M-PCVA]. But the AG Office also has the capacity for much more,710See, e.g., Aram A. Gavoor & Steven A. Platt, U.S. Department of Justice Executive Branch Engagement on Litigating the Administrative Procedure Act, 75 Admin. L. Rev. 429, 477 (2023). including more in the context of comparative administrative law. It can, for example, establish an office or unit engaged in comparative administrative law, which would also encourage potential cross-national collaborations (perhaps building on the experience of the recent trend toward more and more APAs around the world). And it can moreover work to increase and facilitate collaborations between federal agencies at home and abroad in other ways as well.

(4) The judiciary: Even if only some of those institutional paths will be pursued, it is quite likely that we will also begin to see some change in litigation practices as well. After all, the kinds of changes I have described in law school teaching, scholarship, and bar and governmental practices will create a much more favorable environment for judges and litigators to advance arguments drawing on comparative administrative law. At the same time, there’s no reason why judges themselves can’t proactively contribute to this sort of effort too. In the field of constitutional law, there was once talk about the growth of transnational networks of constitutional judging or a “global community of courts.”711Anne-Marie Slaughter, A Global Community of Courts, 44 Harv. Int’l L.J. 191, 192–94 (2003). Constitutional courts’ judges were “seeking information, guidance, stimulation, clarification, or even enlightenment . . . [which were] keeping the judicial mind open to new ideas.”712Laurie W.H. Ackermann, Constitutional Comparativism in South Africa: A Response to Sir Basil Markesinis and Jörg Fedtke, 80 Tul. L. Rev. 169, 183 (2005). Without necessarily arguing that we need to go back to the heydays of that particular movement, partly because of some of the costs of excessive universalism that attended it at the time, it is not out of the question to think seriously about the need and desirability of some form of a cross-national administrative law network of judges that would indeed help keep the “judicial mind open to new ideas.”713Id. There is, in fact, some precedent for that in the U.S. in particular. Indeed, the Schwartz and Wade book previously mentioned was a result of an exchange that was initiated by the Judicial Conference of the United States and included Chief Justice Burger and Justice O’Connor.714For a description of the project, see Warren E. Burger, The Seventh Anglo-American Exchange: Our Spiritual Cousinage, 27 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 633, 634–37 (1986). It doesn’t seem beyond the pale to revive this sort of tradition.

***

As should be clear, the foregoing doesn’t exhaust the menu of institutional options that we might deliberately endorse for reviving comparative administrative law.715A suggestion of relevance not from the point of view of the United States, but of other systems, that is worth noting here is that courts that produce judgments that are not in English will make sure that there is an English translation available for broader global consumption. See Martin Gelter & Mathias Siems, Networks, Dialogue or One-Way Traffic? An Empirical Analysis of Cross-Citations Between Ten of Europe’s Highest Courts, 8 Utrecht L. Rev. 88, 93 (2012). But it is certainly a good place to start. Change in any of the directions flagged above in how we teach the subject of administrative law in law schools, in how we do research and write in this field, and in how we practice and adjudicate disputes involving administration would be a highly welcome one. And given past precedents and the already morphed global environment, these changes are not at all outside our grasp.

CONCLUSION

In a justly famous article, Felix Frankfurter once described Frank Goodnow and Ernst Freund, whom he also called the “pioneer[s]” of the field of administrative law, as “lonely watchers in the tower.”716Frankfurter, supra note 72, at 616. In that, Frankfurter was obviously referring to the fact that Goodnow and Freund were largely alone at the turn of the twentieth century in realizing that the field of administrative law even exists. However, given how much Goodnow and Freund were both discovering the field of administrative law based on keen observation of developments in other countries, Frankfurter’s quip should be understood slightly more narrowly. He wasn’t identifying Goodnow and Freund as just “watchers.” They were comparative administrative law watchers.

Today, contrary to Goodnow and Freund’s time (and even Frankfurter’s), no one doubts that administrative law is a “thing,” even an incredibly important one. Indeed, nowadays administrative law has many, many watchers crowding the tower. But as far as keeping up with and taking seriously the administrative law of other countries and jurisdictions other than our own, Frankfurter’s observation still rings true. In America, the field of comparative administrative law is one that is occupied by very few watchers. As I tried to show here, this wasn’t always the case. But, alas, it clearly is now.

My claim here has been that this situation calls for quite urgent change. Comparative law should be much more on our radar in administrative law than it is today. The possibilities of doing comparison have incredibly increased in a more globalized and cross-nationally fluid world. Its benefits are substantial, both in general and especially in times of administrative and democratic pressure. And while comparison always carries with it important risks of misuse (and even abuse), there is no reason why we should walk away from the enterprise instead of embracing it with appropriate caution.

This Article is a first stab at trying to put some meat on these general claims by illustrating what a cautious approach to comparative administrative law (which, as I have suggested, is a modest and experimentalist one) can teach us in two central doctrinal domains of law and administration: the domestication of administrative guidance and Chevron deference. But, of course, this is just the tip of the iceberg. Further comparative study of other domains in our administrative law (and of different jurisdictions than the ones that I have referred to or am able to refer to) can yield even more insights.

As is always the case, the question of whether we will take the necessary steps to rid ourselves of our administrative law parochialism, and do so responsibly, is ultimately up to us. The coming Loper Bright and Relentless cases at the Supreme Court could prove to be a test case for exactly that. For my part, I certainly hope that we will and that the watchers will once again stop being so lonely.

97 S. Cal. L. Rev. 801

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* Associate Professor of Law, University of Arizona James E. Rogers College of Law. LL.M. & S.J.D., Harvard Law School. For help and constructive feedback on the general ideas and “moves” in the Article, as well as on earlier drafts, my heartfelt thanks go to Michael Asimow, Beau Baumann, Anya Bernstein, Francesca Bignami, Christian Burset, Mariolina Eliantonio, Blake Emerson, Lawrence David, Gráinne de Búrca, Jill Family, Liz Fisher, Neli Frost, Luis Eugenio Garcia-Huidobro, Tom Ginsburg, Daphna Gluck, Ben Heath, Sam Issacharoff, Vicki Jackson, Tomer Kenneth, Jeremy Kessler, Larry Lessig, Peter Lindseth, Jeff Lubbers, Yseult Marique, Yifat Naftali Ben-Ziyon, Susan Rose-Ackerman, Chuck Sabel, Rafi Stern, Thomas Streinz, Robert Thomas, Mark Tushnet, Dan Walters, Joseph Weiler, Ilan Wurman, and David Zaring. I am also very grateful to the participants in the AALS Administrative Law Section 2024 New Voices Session and in the European Administrative Law Dialogues Program hosted by Maastricht University for valuable feedback, to the many people who discussed this (very long!) paper with me during job interviews and workshops, and to the tireless editorial staff of the Southern California Law Review, volumes 97 and 98, for their incredible work in preparing this (again, very long!) Article to print. As always, errors are mine alone.

Slouching Towards San Francisco: Opioid Addiction as Public Nuisance

INTRODUCTION

The opioid epidemic has afflicted Americans for twenty years, from California to the New York island. What began as an idealistic effort to alleviate chronic pain turned into a national nightmare: powerful, FDA-approved painkillers, liberally prescribed in the late 1990s and early 2000s, unleashed a Pandora’s box of dependance and demand that south-of-the-border cartels have answered with heroin and fentanyl.1Mike Stobbe, US Overdose Deaths Hit Record 107,000 Last Year, CDC Says, Associated Press (May 11, 2022, 8:32 AM), https://apnews.com/article/overdose-deaths-opioids-fentanyl-8cb302a70ddbb6a435f9e8fbb19f153b [https://perma.cc/EV8Y-U7QT]. In 2021, more than 107,000 Americans died of drug overdoses, and an astounding 71,000 of these deaths involved fentanyl and other synthetic opioids.2Id. The economic costs have been staggering: in 2020 alone, the opioid epidemic cost the United States an estimated $1.5 trillion.3Joint Econ. Comm. Democrats, The Economic Toll of the Opioid Crisis Reached Nearly $1.5 Trillion in 2020 1 (2022), https://www.jec.senate.gov/public/_cache/files/67bced7f-4232-40ea-9263-f033d280c567/jec-cost-of-opioids-issue-brief.pdf [https://perma.cc/FV6W-TF3G]. The Joint Economic Committee Democrats calculated this amount using CDC estimates of costs of “health care, public safety, lost productivity, lower quality of life and lives lost due to opioids.” Id. at 2 n.1.

To help redress this catastrophe, every state in the Union, along with countless localities and tribes, has sued opioid manufacturers, distributors, and dispensers.4Leslie Kendrick, The Perils and Promise of Public Nuisance, 132 Yale L.J. 702, 708 (2023). These public plaintiffs have pursued multiple claims, but public nuisance is “a central feature of the litigation and a key to its momentum.”5Id. at 707. To establish a public nuisance, plaintiffs must demonstrate an unreasonable interference with a right common to the public.6Restatement (Second) of Torts § 821B(1) (Am. L. Inst. 1979). A typical interference in the early days of public nuisance consisted of blocking a highway or waterway,7Id. § 821B cmt. a. but in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, plaintiffs have argued that mass harms from products such as tobacco, lead paint, and handguns also interfere with public rights.8See Kendrick, supra note 4, at 705–06. In these actions, the alleged interference with public rights enables states or localities to sue on behalf of the public.9See id. at 707 (“That these suits involve a variety of other claims should not lead us to assume that they would exist in the manner absent the public-nuisance template.”).

But while these suits have generated billions of dollars in settlements,10Id. at 708. some courts have rejected these claims on the basis that any harms caused by a legal product interfere with private rights rather than public rights.11See, e.g., State ex rel. Hunter v. Johnson & Johnson, 499 P.3d 719, 726–28 (Okla. 2021); City of Huntington v. AmerisourceBergen Drug Corp., 609 F. Supp. 3d 408, 473–76 (S.D. W. Va. 2022). These courts cite previous attempts to characterize handguns and lead paint as public nuisances to conclude that the misuse of a product rarely interferes with the public rights traditionally protected by the doctrine, such as the right to use a public highway without interference.12See, e.g., Johnson & Johnson, 499 P.3d at 726–28. Moreover, these courts portend a flood of lawsuits concerning legal products should public nuisance provide a valid basis of recovery against product manufacturers for harms that should instead be redressed under product liability law.13Id.

However, a successful public nuisance action brought by the City Attorney of San Francisco against Walgreens in federal district court counters the claim that legal products can cause only private harms. In August 2022, Judge Charles Breyer entered judgment in a bench trial against Walgreens for substantially contributing to a public nuisance in San Francisco by failing to comply with federal regulation in filling opioid prescriptions.14See City & County of San Francisco v. Purdue Pharma L.P., 620 F. Supp. 3d 936, 938 (N.D. Cal. 2022). While California has a broader view of public nuisance than other states, the evidence at trial presented in compelling detail the social havoc that opioid addiction has inflicted on the city.15See id. at 940–50.

To my knowledge, this Note is the first to examine this trial in detail, and I do so to demonstrate how opioid addiction interferes with public rights traditionally protected by common law public nuisance. Specifically, I examine how opioid addiction interferes with public space and public morals, forcing local governments to incur abatement costs and exposing residents to offensive activity in broad daylight. Because of this interference, courts should not categorically dismiss public nuisance claims against product manufacturers in the name of tradition.

This Note complements the scholarship of Professors Leslie Kendrick and David Dana, who have both argued that the opioid epidemic has interfered with public rights,16See Kendrick, supra note 4, at 753–54; David A. Dana, Public Nuisance Law When Politics Fails, 83 Ohio State L.J. 61, 100 (2022). by examining this interference with public rights in greater detail. In making this argument, this Note urges skeptical courts to adopt a middle-road doctrinal approach between the broad, inclusive understanding of public nuisance in California and the narrow, traditionalist understanding in states such as Oklahoma. This middle-road approach should be more amenable to states in the traditionalist camp because it retains public nuisance’s common law contours but maintains its flexibility to protect public rights from novel interferences caused by harmful products that bypass regulatory oversight.

Part I will provide a brief history of public nuisance in England, the United States, and California. Part II will discuss the opioid epidemic and the litigation it has spawned. Part III will review the evidence submitted at the successful bench trial in California to highlight how opioid addiction has affected San Francisco. Lastly, Part IV will argue that opioid addiction interferes with public rights traditionally protected by common law public nuisance and address various counterarguments.

I.  PUBLIC NUISANCE: A BRIEF HISTORY

A.  Common Law Origins in England

Nuisance developed in the English common law as a non-trespassory tort against the land, or more specifically, an interference with the use or enjoyment of land, or with a right of easement or servitude over the land.17William L. Prosser, Private Action for Public Nuisance, 52 Va. L. Rev. 997, 997 (1966). This remedy allowed private parties to seek relief from non-trespassory interferences with the use and enjoyment of their land and is the origin of the law of private nuisance today.18Id. at 997–98. Private nuisance is a separate doctrine that has not played a role in opioid litigation, so I will not discuss it further in this Note. An interference with the property of the King also constituted a nuisance, and hence public nuisance was born.19Id. at 998. The earliest cases concerned obstructing the King’s road—a criminal infringement on the rights of the Crown and redressable by a suit brought by the King’s justices—thereby interfering with a public right of way.20Id. By the same reasoning, blocking a waterway constituted a public nuisance.21J.R. Spencer, Public Nuisance—A Critical Examination, 48 Cambridge L.J. 55, 58 (1989). By the mid-1300s, public nuisance extended more broadly to other infringements on public rights, such as “interference with a market, smoke from a lime-pit, and diversion of water from a mill.”22Prosser, supra note 17, at 998.

While obstructing a public road or waterway remains the canonical example of public nuisance, the doctrine eventually encompassed “a large, miscellaneous and diversified group of minor criminal offenses, all of which involved some interference with the interests of the community at large.”23Restatement (Second) of Torts § 821B cmt. b (Am. L. Inst. 1979). For example, a description of “common nuisances” (later referred to as public nuisances) by William Sheppard in the 1660s included “pollution from noxious trades,” “victuallers who [sell] unwholesome food,” and “lewd ale-houses.”24Spencer, supra note 21, at 60 (quoting William Sheppard, The Court-Keepers Guide: Or, a Plain and Familiar Treatise Needful and Useful for the Help of Many that Are Imployed in the Keeping of Law-Days, or Courts Baron (5th ed. 1662)). Similarly, William Blackstone’s 1769 catalogue of common nuisances included “the keeping of hogs in any city or market town,” “[c]ottages . . . erected singly on the waste, being harbours for thieves and other idle and dissolute persons,” the “making and selling of fireworks,” and “[a]ll disorderly inns or ale-houses, bawdy-houses, gaming-houses, stage-plays unlicensed, booths and stages for rope-dancers, mountebanks, and the like.”254 William Blackstone, Commentaries *167–68.

Another significant feature of public nuisance in the English common law was the relator action. Public nuisances had traditionally been prosecuted in the courts of leet, local criminal courts that handled “public welfare offences.”26Spencer, supra note 21, at 59. But by the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, people began seeking injunctions on behalf of the Attorney General in civil court.27Id. at 66. Plaintiffs sought this civil remedy because “irreparable damage” might occur by the time lengthier criminal proceedings concluded and also because of the difficulty in prosecuting corporations responsible for pollution.28Id. at 66, 70. “At the beginning of the nineteenth century a corporation was regarded as incapable of committing a criminal offence, and was therefore beyond the reach of criminal proceedings for public nuisance.” Id. at 70. Accordingly, by the end of the nineteenth century, civil actions replaced criminal prosecutions in standard public nuisance cases concerning “general health hazards” and highway obstructions.29Id. at 70. Separately, private citizens could also sue for damages if they received a “special injury” from a public nuisance.30Id. at 74. The special-injury action has elicited much controversy and scholarship. See generally Prosser, supra note 17 (discussing the history of public nuisance and the special-injury rule); F.H. Newark, The Boundaries of Nuisance, 65 L.Q. Rev. 480 (1949) (arguing that the special-injury rule blurs the distinction between negligence and public nuisance).

B.  Public Nuisance in the United States

American courts inherited public nuisance from their English forebears, and the doctrine continued to evolve to address changing social conditions. The early American cases largely fell into two groups: obstruction of public highways and navigable waterways, and a “loose amalgamation of minor offenses involving public morals or the public welfare,” including gambling, “keeping a disorderly house or tavern,” and “enabling prostitution.”31Donald G. Gifford, Public Nuisance as a Mass Products Liability Tort, 71 U. Cin. L. Rev. 741, 800–01 (2003). But as the economy industrialized, courts applied public nuisance to new conditions such as air and water pollution.32Id. at 802. In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, state legislatures responded to this changing landscape by adopting statutes that defined public nuisance in broad language or enumerated activities constituting a public nuisance.33Id. at 804. For an example of a broad public nuisance statute, see California’s nuisance statute, infra Section I.C. For a hypothetical example of the statutory approach that enumerates activities constituting a public nuisance, see Restatement (Second) of Torts § 821B cmt. c (Am. L. Inst. 1979) (“[A] common type of statute declares black currant bushes or barberry bushes or other plants that harbor parasites such as rust that are destructive to grain or timber to be public nuisances. These statutes amount to a legislative declaration that the conduct proscribed is an unreasonable interference with a public right.”). These statutes enabled public authorities to use public nuisance as a “stopgap measure” and abate unforeseen activities that “might injure or annoy the general public.”34Gifford, supra note 31, at 804; see also Restatement (Second) of Torts § 821B cmt. c (Am. L. Inst. 1979) (“With the elimination of common law crimes, general statutes have been adopted in most of the states to provide criminal penalties for public nuisances, often without defining the term at all, or with only a very broad and sometimes rather vague definition.”). However, beginning in the Progressive Era, state governments adopted comprehensive statutes and regulations that diminished their reliance on public nuisance as a stopgap measure, thus resulting in fewer public nuisance actions.35Gifford, supra note 31, at 805–06.

By the early twentieth century, individual states as parens patriae—“parent of the country”—sued parties in federal court to enjoin or abate public nuisances.36See Alfred L. Snapp & Son, Inc. v. Puerto Rico ex rel. Barez, 458 U.S. 592, 592, 600, 604–05 (1982). Parens patriae standing rests on a state’s “interest in the abatement of public nuisances, instances in which the injury to the public health and comfort [is] graphic and direct.”37Id. at 604. Parens patriae standing later provided the “architecture” of the tobacco litigation in the 1990s and the opioid litigation in the twenty-first century, with “an official (such as a state’s attorney general or a locality’s district attorney) suing on behalf of the public.”38Kendrick, supra note 4, at 705–07.

In 1979, the American Law Institute published the influential Restatement (Second) of Torts (“Second Restatement”), which included a comprehensive overview of public nuisance.39Public nuisance was not discussed in the Restatement (First) of Torts in 1939. See Thomas W. Merrill, Is Public Nuisance a Tort?, 4 J. Tort L. 1, 20 (2011). Section 821B states:

(1) A public nuisance is an unreasonable interference with a right common to the general public.

(2) Circumstances that may sustain a holding that an interference with a public right is unreasonable include the following:

(a) Whether the conduct involves a significant interference with the public health, the public safety, the public peace, the public comfort or the public convenience, or

(b) whether the conduct is proscribed by a statute, ordinance or administrative regulation, or

(c) whether the conduct is of a continuing nature or has produced a permanent or long-lasting effect, and, as the actor knows or has reason to know, has a significant effect upon the public right.40Restatement (Second) of Torts § 821B (Am. L. Inst. 1979). Eminent torts scholar William Prosser had served as reporter for the Second Restatement but resigned after his first draft of section 821B was sent back to him for revision by members who disagreed with his view that a public nuisance must always be criminal. See Kendrick, supra note 4, at 722. These dissenting members believed such a narrow definition would inhibit the doctrine’s use against novel environmental harms. See id.

The Second Restatement further defines a “public right” as a right “common to all members of the general public. It is collective in nature and not like the individual right that everyone has not to be assaulted or defamed or defrauded or negligently injured.”41Restatement (Second) of Torts § 821B cmt. g (Am. L. Inst. 1979). Scholars have criticized the Second Restatement’s definition of public nuisance as overly broad, vague, and partially responsible for the subsequent increase in public nuisance lawsuits involving novel harms, such as those caused by products.42See e.g., Gifford, supra note 31, at 809 (“[Section 821B] serves instead as an invitation for judges and jurors to provide their own definitions of what constitutes ‘unreasonable interference’ and ‘a right common to the general public’ without the guidance generally provided by precedents.”); Merrill, supra note 39, at 4 (“Courts are invited by the Restatement, based on the presence of one of three very broadly defined ‘circumstances,’ to decide what constitutes a ‘right common to the general public,’ and to determine what sort of circumstances represent an ‘unreasonable interference’ with this right.”).

In the decades that followed the Second Restatement and in the backdrop of a burgeoning environmental movement,43Kendrick, supra note 4, at 721. some states successfully sued defendants under a public nuisance theory for creating an injurious and ongoing condition even though the defendants no longer contributed to the condition or, because they had sold the land, could no longer abate it.44Gifford, supra note 31, at 810. In one prominent case, United States v. Hooker Chemicals & Plastics Corp., a federal district court ruled that a chemical company’s formerly owned toxic-waste dump, from which hazardous chemicals later seeped into surrounding surface and groundwater, was a public nuisance and that the company was liable to the State of New York for abatement costs.45United States v. Hooker Chems. & Plastics Corp., 722 F. Supp. 960, 961–62, 971 (W.D.N.Y. 1989) [hereinafter Hooker II]. The court rejected the chemical company’s argument that upon its sale of the property to the City of Niagara Falls Board of Education—which included notice of the waste in the deed—its liability ended.46See id. at 968–70. The court instead adopted a rule that the creator of a harmful condition cannot evade restitution liability for abatement costs simply by selling the land.47See id. But see Restatement (Second) of Torts § 834 cmt. e (Am. L. Inst. 1979) (“When the vendor or lessor has created the condition his liability continues until the vendee or lessee discovers it and has reasonable opportunity to take effective precautions against it.”). The court in Hooker II considered the public interest at stake and the nature of the activity as reasons to find an exception to the rule in section 834 of the Second Restatement. See Hooker II, 722 F. Supp. at 969. Hooker II and its progeny gave states a framework to recover public health expenditures, incurred to abate an alleged public nuisance, as damages.48See Kendrick, supra note 4, at 723–24; see also Gifford, supra note 31, at 813 (“[T]he focus of public nuisance law shifted dramatically from its origins as a means of forcing the termination of conduct found harmful to public health or public welfare toward becoming a new source of compensatory damages for a wide variety of arguably injurious conditions that fall within the amorphous definition of the tort.”).

Hooker II also exemplifies how damages, as opposed to an injunction, emerged as a viable remedy in public nuisance actions brought by states. At the common law, only plaintiffs who suffered “harm [from a public nuisance] of a kind different from that suffered by other members of the public” could recover damages.49See Restatement (Second) of Torts § 821C(1) (Am. L. Inst. 1979). In the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, some courts did allow government entities to recover damages by demonstrating “peculiar and special damage” from a public nuisance.50Kendrick, supra note 4, at 748. Kendrick has argued that these earlier cases seem “analogous to contemporary courts allowing governmental entities to pursue damages for the extensive funds that they have spent on treating and seeking to remediate harms such as opioid addiction and tobacco-related illnesses.”51Id. at 748–49.

Public nuisance famously provided a breakthrough in twentieth-century tobacco litigation. After four decades of unsuccessful personal injury suits brought by individual plaintiffs,52Nora Freeman Engstrom & Robert L. Rabin, Pursuing Public Health Through Litigation: Lessons from Tobacco and Opioids, 73 Stan. L. Rev. 285, 291 (2021). These early suits brought by smokers largely failed due to Big Tobacco’s vigorous “no matter the cost” defense as well as legal obstacles relating to assumption of risk, contributory negligence, causation, and damages. Id. at 296–97. the tide turned when state attorneys general sued tobacco companies on a variety of claims, including public nuisance, to recoup public health costs.53Id. at 303. These suits survived early dismissal and got to discovery, unearthing incriminating evidence of Big Tobacco’s dishonest marketing practices.54Id. at 304. As a result, the tobacco companies first settled individually with four states, and then in 1998, collectively settled with the remaining forty-six states—known as the Master Settlement Agreement—for $206 billion.55Id. at 304–05. While the public nuisance claims were not tried on the merits in these suits, their success incentivized states to pursue similar claims against companies that make and sell handguns, lead paint, carbon-emitting energy, and opioids.56See Kendrick, supra note 4, at 724–25.

C.  Public Nuisance in California

California’s expansive view of public nuisance can be traced to the broad definition of “nuisance” in its 1872 statute:

Anything which is injurious to health, including, but not limited to, the illegal sale of controlled substances, or is indecent or offensive to the senses, or an obstruction to the free use of property, so as to interfere with the comfortable enjoyment of life or property, or unlawfully obstructs the free passage or use, in the customary manner, of any navigable lake, or river, bay, stream, canal, or basin, or any public park, square, street, or highway . . . .57Cal. Civ. Code § 3479 (West 2023).

Section 3480 further defines a “public” nuisance as one that “affects at the same time an entire community or neighborhood, or any considerable number of persons, although the extent of the annoyance or damage inflicted upon individuals may be unequal.”58Id. § 3480. To establish a public nuisance in California, a plaintiff must prove that a defendant knowingly created or assisted in the creation of a substantial and unreasonable interference with a public right.59People v. ConAgra Grocery Prods. Co., 227 Cal. Rptr. 3d 499, 518, 525 (Ct. App. 2017).

In 1997, the California Supreme Court clarified the meaning of a “public right” by quoting the Second Restatement’s five categories that are protected from interference: “[T]he public health, the public safety, the public peace, the public comfort or the public convenience.”60People ex rel. Gallo v. Acuna, 929 P.2d 596, 604 (Cal. 1997) (citing Restatement (Second) of Torts § 821B(2)(a)). In upholding an injunction against disruptive gang activity in a San Jose neighborhood, the court articulated the purpose of public nuisance: “[T]o protect the quality of organized social life.”61Id. at 602, 604. The gang activity at issue included open drug use and dealing, loud music, appropriation of public space, vandalism, and violence.62See id. at 601.

This understanding of public rights underpins the enduring use of public nuisance in California to abate problem properties. In 2015, the Second District Court of Appeals affirmed the classification of a restaurant as a public nuisance because of ongoing loitering, drinking, drug dealing, prostitution, and violence that occurred on the property.63Benetatos v. City of Los Angeles, 186 Cal. Rptr. 3d 46, 58–59 (Ct. App. 2015). The court dismissed the owner’s argument that he should not be held responsible for the crimes of third parties in a high-crime area because the owner failed to make reasonable operational changes to discourage such activity.64Id. The recommended changes included changing the restaurant’s hours of operation and hiring a security guard. Id. at 53. In other words, the owner was liable for the blighted condition of his property since it attracted morally offensive and dangerous behavior that degraded the quality of life of the surrounding community.

California’s broadly worded nuisance statute and expansive understanding of public rights set the stage for successful public nuisance suits involving products. In People v. ConAgra Grocery Products Co., the Sixth Court of Appeals held that three companies created a public nuisance by promoting lead-based paint in the past and remanded the case to the trial court to recalculate abatement damages.65People v. ConAgra Grocery Prods. Co., 227 Cal. Rptr. 3d 499, 518, 598 (Ct. App. 2017). Looking exclusively to California’s public nuisance statute and prior precedent, the court was not persuaded by the defendants’ argument that lead-paint poisoning causes “private harm” that, even in the aggregate, does not interfere with public rights.66Id. at 552. Rather, the court held that lead paint interferes with the “community’s ‘public right’ to housing that does not poison children,” and that “[r]esidential housing, like water, electricity, natural gas, and sewer services, is an essential community resource.”67Id. The defendants ultimately settled for $305 million.68Kendrick, supra note 4, at 725.

Other states have refused to follow California in holding that lead paint poisoning is a public nuisance. In 2008, the Rhode Island Supreme Court reversed a trial court judgment against lead paint manufacturers and a trade association, holding that, among other reasons, the Attorney General had failed to prove that lead poisoning interferes with a public right.69State v. Lead Indus. Ass’n, 951 A.2d 428, 435 (R.I. 2008). In the court’s view, lead poisoning harms a private right rather than public right, which it defined as a right to “indivisible resources shared by the public at large, such as air, water, or public rights of way.”70Id. at 453. The court reasoned that to conclude otherwise would be antithetical to the common law, extend liability to any legal product that interferes with a private right, and blur the boundaries between public nuisance and product liability law.71Id. at 454–56.

Commentators also share this traditionalist stance and find support in the Second Restatement’s description of a public right as “collective in nature and not like the individual right that everyone has not to be . . . negligently injured.”72Restatement (Second) of Torts § 821B cmt. g (Am. L. Inst. 1979). Thus, some scholars contend that a product might violate a person’s right to not be negligently injured, but this harm cannot, in aggregate, violate a public right.73See, e.g., Gifford, supra note 31, at 818 (“[T]he exposure to lead-based paint usually occurs within the most private and intimate of surroundings, his or her own home. Injuries occurring in this context do not resemble the rights traditionally understood as public rights for public nuisance purposes . . . .”); Merrill, supra note 39, at 10 (“A mass tort, such as distributing a defective product to millions of consumers, violates a large number of private rights. But this does not convert such a tort into the violation of a public right.”). More fundamentally, they view these public nuisance claims involving products as democratically illegitimate attempts to bypass state product liability law, which state legislatures have set forth in statutes.74See Dana, supra note 16, at 99 (footnote omitted) (“Because (according to this argument) products liability law is legislatively authorized and hence democratically legitimate, the attempt to use public nuisance in what is the realm properly reserved for products liability law is illegitimate. Product-based nuisance claims are an improper effort to avoid state tort law, as duly established by the legislature.”). The Restatement (Third) of Torts similarly states that mass harms caused by dangerous products should be redressed through the law of product liability.75Restatement (Third) of Torts: Liab. for Econ. Harm § 8 cmt. g (Am. L. Inst. 2020).

II.  THE OPIOID EPIDEMIC

A.  A Brief History

The origin of America’s opioid epidemic can be traced to 1995 when the FDA approved OxyContin, a powerful prescription painkiller made by Purdue Pharma L.P. (“Purdue”).76Engstrom & Rabin, supra note 52, at 307. In the late 1980s, Purdue began developing a replacement for its successful painkiller MS Contin, a morphine pill with a patented controlled-release mechanism that was soon to expire.77Patrick Radden Keefe, The Family That Built an Empire of Pain, New Yorker (Oct. 23, 2017), https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2017/10/30/the-family-that-built-an-empire-of-pain [https://web.archive.org/web/20240122052118/https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2017/10/30/the-family-that-built-an-empire-of-pain]. Purdue’s chemists applied this controlled-release mechanism to oxycodone, an opioid twice as powerful as morphine, and named the resulting pill OxyContin.78Engstrom & Rabin, supra note 52, at 308. The delayed-release feature enabled Purdue to sell the pill in high dosages and convince the FDA to allow a package insert suggesting OxyContin was less prone to abuse.79Keefe, supra note 77. The package insert stated the delayed-release mechanism “is believed to reduce the abuse liability.” Id. Following FDA approval, Purdue launched an unprecedented marketing campaign that successfully persuaded doctors to prescribe OxyContin as a general treatment for chronic pain.80Id. Colossal returns followed: annual sales of OxyContin reached $1 billion within five years and ultimately generated $35 billion for the company.81Id.

But Purdue’s bonanza birthed a national catastrophe. OxyContin initiated an epidemic of addiction from the hollers of West Virginia to the hills of San Francisco. Patients prescribed OxyContin soon learned that its advertised twelve-hour relief lasted eight hours, causing them to experience withdrawal symptoms and seek more pills at higher doses.82See Engstrom & Rabin, supra note 52, at 309. The pills could also be crushed into powder, removing their delayed-release coating, that could then be ingested or, when mixed with water, intravenously injected for an immediate, euphoric high.83Id. As a result, OxyContin made many unsuspecting patients addicted and was widely abused.84See Keefe, supra note 77.

In response, Purdue ultimately reformulated the drug in 2010 to make it nearly impossible to crush, and doctors reversed their liberal prescribing habits, but this did little to ameliorate the damage done: users turned to illicit alternatives such as heroin and fentanyl for their fix. Even though opioid prescriptions from retail pharmacies fell from a peak of 255 million in 2012 to about 143 million in 2020,85See Arian Campo-Flores & Jon Kamp, Fentanyl’s Ubiquity Inflames America’s Drug Crisis, Wall St. J. (Sept. 30, 2022, 10:54 AM), https://www.wsj.com/articles/fentanyls-ubiquity-inflames-american-drug-crisis-11664549424 [https://perma.cc/MPD8-XV29]. overall opioid overdoses increased, first with heroin,86See, e.g., William N. Evans, Ethan Lieber & Patrick Power, How the Reformulation of OxyContin Ignited the Heroin Epidemic 1–2 (Nat’l Bureau of Econ. Rsch., Working Paper No. 24475, 2018); Engstrom & Rabin, supra note 52, at 327. and then to a much greater degree with fentanyl.87Opioids: Understanding the Epidemic, CDC (Aug. 8, 2023), https://www.cdc.gov/opioids/basics/epidemic.html [https://perma.cc/2JHY-GBT7]. In total, from 1999 to 2021, nearly 645,000 people died from overdoses involving prescription and illicit opioids.88Id.

B.  The Opioid Litigation

Opioid litigation has followed a similar trajectory to tobacco litigation. Individual plaintiffs pursued the first claims against Purdue, alleging the company breached its duty of care in deceptively promoting a drug with inadequate warnings and defective design, but these suits rarely survived summary judgment.89See Engstrom & Rabin, supra note 52, at 310–11. The plaintiffs faced many obstacles in proving their claims: Purdue’s attorneys argued the drug had been approved by the FDA, prescribing doctors had been adequately warned about the drug’s danger, the plaintiffs had illegally abused the drug, and various other causation issues. See id. at 311–12. In contrast, public nuisance claims fared much better. West Virginia’s Attorney General brought the first public suit alleging multiple claims, including public nuisance, that induced Purdue to settle for $10 million in 2004.90See id. at 314. Purdue settled similar suits in 2007, paying $19.5 million to twenty-six states and the District of Columbia, and $24 million to Kentucky.91See id. at 314–16.

Starting in 2014, a new wave of litigation ensued against a wider group of defendants—other opioid manufacturers, distributers, and retail pharmacies—and filed by a more diverse group of public plaintiffs—cities, counties, states, and tribes.92See Kendrick, supra note 4, at 731. This litigation has occurred in both federal and state courts and features a range of claims, including public nuisance and violations of the Controlled Substances Act (“CSA”).93Engstrom & Rabin, supra note 52, at 316–19. In federal court, three thousand federal lawsuits were consolidated into a multidistrict litigation (“MDL”) in Ohio.94Kendrick, supra note 4, at 732. The magnitude of potential liability facing these defendants has encouraged many to settle. Drugmaker Johnson & Johnson and distributors AmerisourceBergen, Cardinal Health, and McKesson finalized a nationwide settlement in February 2022.95Geoff Mulvihill, J&J, Distributors Finalize $26B Landmark Opioid Settlement, Associated Press (Feb. 25, 2022, 8:43 AM), https://apnews.com/article/coronavirus-pandemic-business-health-opioids-camden-dec0982c4c40ad08b2b30b725471e000 [https://perma.cc/EJ3X-SHMC]. Purdue, which has since declared bankruptcy, and its owners, the Sackler family, reached a nationwide settlement in March 2022.96Geoff Mulvihill & John Seewer, Purdue Pharma, US States Agree to New Opioid Settlement, Associated Press (Mar. 3, 2022, 11:34 AM), https://apnews.com/article/purdue-pharma-opioid-settlement-9482fa0389f68de6844d13ea2ebefe5a [https://perma.cc/ZDV3-XUYB]. And lastly, Walgreens, Walmart, and CVS agreed to a nationwide settlement in November 2022.97Sharon Terlep & Sarah Nassauer, Walmart to Pay $3.1 Billion to Settle Opioid Lawsuits, Wall St. J. (Nov. 15, 2022, 3:01 PM), https://www.wsj.com/articles/walmart-to-pay-3-1-billion-to-settle-opioid-lawsuits-11668514958 [https://perma.cc/73XQ-4S33].

For the few cases that have gone to trial, courts have disagreed on whether the opioid epidemic constitutes a public nuisance. For example, following a bench trial in Oklahoma that resulted in a $465 million judgment against Johnson & Johnson, the Supreme Court of Oklahoma reversed, holding that the district court erred in extending Oklahoma’s public nuisance statute to harms from prescription opioids.98State ex rel. Hunter v. Johnson & Johnson, 499 P.3d 719, 720 (Okla. 2021). Likening opioids to lead paint and handguns (the subjects of previous public nuisance litigation), the court explained that the harm from a legal product does not interfere with a public right, which it defined as a “right to a public good, such as ‘an indivisible resource shared by the public at large, like air, water, or public rights-of-way.’ ”99Id. at 726–27 (quoting City of Chicago v. Am. Cyanamid Co., 823 N.E.2d 126, 131 (Ill. App. Ct. 2005). Rather, the court viewed the essence of the state’s claim as “a private tort action for individual injuries sustained from use of a lawful product and in providing medical treatment or preventative treatment to certain, though numerous, individuals.”100Id. at 727. The court also expressed concerns that if it affirmed the trial court, then the misuse of any prescription medicine or legal product could give rise to a public nuisance claim.101Id.

Following the decision in Oklahoma, two bench trials also held defendants not liable for public nuisance. In a bellwether bench trial in the Ohio MDL,102See In re Nat’l Prescription Opiate Litig., 622 F. Supp. 3d 584, 584 (N.D. Ohio 2022). a federal district court in West Virginia followed the traditionalist reasoning of the Oklahoma Supreme Court in finding that the distribution of prescription opioids does not interfere with a public right.103See City of Huntington v. AmerisourceBergen Drug Corp., 609 F. Supp. 3d 408, 473–76 (S.D. W. Va. 2022). Similarly, a state court in California entered judgment in favor of various opioid manufacturers but did so because the People did not present evidence that the manufacturer’s allegedly false marketing caused medically inappropriate prescriptions.104People v. Purdue Pharma L.P., No. 30-2014-00725287-CU-BT-CXC, 2021 Cal. Super. LEXIS 31743, at *2, *10 (Dec. 14, 2021). But unlike the district court in West Virginia, the court made clear that the opioid epidemic was a substantial interference with “collective social interests” and that a showing of unreasonable conduct could constitute a public nuisance.105See id. at *9, *31.

However, two other bellwether MDL cases succeeded on the merits: City & County of San Francisco v. Purdue Pharma L.P., discussed in Part III, and County of Lake, Ohio v. Purdue Pharma L.P.106In re Nat’l Prescription Opiate Litig., 622 F. Supp. 3d at 590–91. In the former, Walgreens was found to have substantially contributed to an opioid epidemic in San Francisco,107City & County of San Francisco v. Purdue Pharma L.P., 620 F. Supp. 3d 936, 939 (N.D. Cal. 2022). and in the latter, CVS, Walmart, and Walgreens were found liable for contributing to an opioid epidemic in Ohio.108In re Nat’l Prescription Opiate Litig., 622 F. Supp. 3d at 593.

III.  THE OPIOID EPIDEMIC IN SAN FRANCISCO

The San Francisco City Attorney filed claims in the U.S. District Court for the Northern District of California against dozens of opioid manufacturers, distributors, and dispensers, and by the trial’s close in July 2022, only Walgreens remained.109City & County of San Francisco, 620 F. Supp. 3d at 938. The city pursued a single public nuisance claim at trial.110Id. Judge Charles Breyer held that the city proved by a preponderance of the evidence that Walgreens knowingly engaged in unreasonable conduct that was a substantial factor in creating an opioid epidemic in San Francisco.111Id. A subsequent remedies trial was scheduled to begin on November 7, 2022, but Judge Breyer vacated this date after Walgreens announced a tentative nationwide opioid settlement for nearly $5 billion.112See Dave Simpson, SF-Walgreens Opioid Trial Called Off Amid Settlement Talks, Law360 (Nov. 4, 2022, 9:16 AM), https://www.law360.com/articles/1546999/sf-walgreens-opioid-trial-called-off-amid-settlement-talks [https://perma.cc/G4TY-KKSE]; Sharon Terlep, CVS, Walgreens to Pay More Than $10 Billion to Settle Opioid Lawsuits, Wall St. J. (Nov. 2, 2022, 11:00 AM), https://www.wsj.com/articles/cvs-to-pay-5-billion-to-settle-opioid-lawsuits-11667358371 [https://perma.cc/7Y5W-SE8H]. Separately, Walgreens settled with the city for $230 million to be paid across fifteen years.113Alene Tchekmedyian, Walgreens Agrees to Pay San Francisco Nearly $230 Million to Settle Opioid Lawsuit, L.A. Times (May 17, 2023, 9:15 PM), https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2023-05-17/walgreens-san-francisco-settlement [https://perma.cc/CD3C-D2MP].

Judge Breyer’s lengthy opinion described a city under siege from opioid addiction. The epidemic in San Francisco unfolded in three waves.114City & County of San Francisco, 620 F. Supp. 3d at 941. The first wave, from 2000 to 2010, consisted of an increase in opioid addiction and overdose deaths following a rise in opioid prescriptions.115Id. at 943. By 2010, San Francisco’s rate of opioid overdoses was 2.23 times the national average despite the city’s “significant investment in public health programs designed to combat opioid abuse.”116Id. In the second wave, beginning in the early 2010s, prescriptions declined while heroin use and overdose deaths increased.117See id. at 944. The city had faced a heroin problem in the late 1990s, but in this second wave, the problem became “significantly worse.”118Id. Evidence suggests heroin returned to the city because of prescription-opioid addiction. The Chief of Emergency Medicine at Zuckerberg San Francisco General Hospital testified that “approximately two-thirds of the patients who present[ed] to the [emergency department] with an opioid-related medical condition report[ed] that their addiction started with pills.”119Id. at 945. The third wave began in 2015 with the arrival of fentanyl, a dangerous synthetic opioid fifty times more potent than heroin.120See id. at 945–46. All in all, the demand for prescription opioids, heroin, and fentanyl caused deaths to skyrocket: from 2015 to 2020, opioid-related emergency room visits tripled, and overdoses increased 478%, from 101 in 2015 to 584 in 2020.121Id. at 946.

The evidence at trial revealed the epidemic’s tremendous toll on city workers and resources. The Fire Department’s Emergency Medical Services (“EMS”) team received so many overdose calls that it created a special response team to answer them.122Id. at 947. Encountering unconscious individuals on the streets, many of whom were “frequent callers who rotate from the street to the emergency room and back to the street,” became the “new normal” for EMS.123Id. Similarly, Public Works faced a “significantly more challenging” job cleaning streets and sidewalks because of the large number of opioid users who “often vomit, have diarrhea, and leave used needles in public right of ways.”124Id. These crews collected 95,000 used syringes annually in recent years, often encountered people experiencing overdoses, and sometimes came across deceased opioid users on their rounds.125Id.

The epidemic especially impacted San Francisco’s public parks. The Recreation and Parks Department (“RPD”) created special teams to respond to the harms caused by opioid use in the city’s parks.126Id. at 948. Its outreach team engaged with homeless individuals living in parks, and according to Sergeant Maja Follin, a Head Park Ranger in RPD, the “vast majority” of these individuals suffer from substance abuse.127See id. For Sergeant Follins’s full declaration detailing drug use in the city’s parks, see Declaration of Maja Follin, City & County of San Francisco v. Purdue Pharma L.P., 620 F. Supp. 3d 936 (N.D. Cal. 2022) (No. 3:18-cv-07591-CRB). Meanwhile, RPD’s environmental services team removed biohazards such as used syringes and human feces.128City & County of San Francisco, 620 F. Supp. 3d at 948. In 2019, the team recovered 10,360 syringes from Golden Gate Park.129Id. Their work could be high-stakes and laborious: at Dolores Park, needles were thrown into a children’s play area, requiring RPD to “sift through the sand” and recover them.130Id. Because of these biohazards, RPD regularly closed off sections of parks.131Id. And at Jose Coronado Park, so many people “obstruct[ed] the sidewalk using drugs and spending the day . . . lying across the sidewalk and making it impossible for people to . . . access the park or . . . walk down the sidewalk” that the city had to install barricades to create safe passage for park goers.132Id.

The San Francisco Public Library (“SFPL”) system also faced “serious health and safety risks for library visitors and staff” due to the opioid epidemic.133Id. at 949. The SFPL system consists of twenty-eight libraries across the city and had recently drawn over six million annual visitors. Id. Library staff routinely discovered patrons using and overdosing on opioids outside the building, in the stacks, and in the bathrooms.134Id. Similarly, staff found needles in the stacks, in bathrooms, on shelves, inside of books, and in children’s reading areas.135Id. On occasion, staff were even stuck with used syringes.136Id. Damage to plumbing from flushed syringes caused multiple library closures and cost tens of thousands of dollars to fix.137Id. Because of the epidemic, SFPL incurred additional expenses, such as hiring a full-time social worker to connect those suffering from opioid addiction with support services.138Id. SFPL also contracted with the San Francisco Police Department to provide officers to patrol the libraries and help respond to the proliferation of drug use and overdoses.139Id.

At the trial, the aforementioned evidence demonstrated that the opioid epidemic, defined as “high rates of opioid abuse, addiction, and overdoses,” constitutes a public nuisance that interferes with all five categories of public rights recognized by the California Supreme Court: the public health, the public safety, the public peace, the public comfort, and public convenience.140Id. at 1008. The city also successfully proved that Walgreens had knowledge that its unreasonable conduct caused the nuisance.141Id. at 998. As the “last line of defense” against the diversion of controlled substances,142See id. at 996. the pharmacy failed to perform due diligence on over 1.2 million red flag prescriptions in a fifteen-year period.143Id. at 985. Red flag prescriptions are “objective warning signs that indicate that a prescription may not be legitimate.” Id. at 979. The city’s expert identified fourteen categories commonly used to identify these prescriptions. Id. For example, some categories flagged “Long Distance Travel,” “Doctor-Shopping,” and “Cash Payment.” Id. at 980. Large volumes of these prescriptions came from “rogue pain clinics and rogue doctors”: from 2006 to 2020, Walgreens pharmacies in the Bay Area filed 161,696 prescriptions from prescribers who later “faced discipline for their prescribing practices and several of whom lost their medical licenses.”144Id. at 993. This failure to perform due diligence violated CSA regulation, so the court concluded this failure was unreasonable.145Id. at 998–1000. Specifically, the court found that Walgreens violated 21 C.F.R. § 1306.04(a). Id. at 999 (“[A] prescription issued not in the usual course of professional treatment . . . is not a prescription within the meaning and intent of [21 U.S.C. § 829] and the person knowingly filling such a purported prescription . . . shall be subject to the penalties provided for violations . . . .”) (alteration in original) (quoting 21 C.F.R. § 1306.04(a))). Moreover, the CSA’s regulatory scheme was sufficient to demonstrate that Walgreens “must have known” about the harms of opioid diversion, notwithstanding external Drug Enforcement Agency (“DEA”) investigations and internal correspondence among executives that revealed Walgreens executives had actual notice of harms from prescription-drug abuse.146Id. at 1000–02. The court noted that the CSA and its implementing regulations “were put in place precisely because of the harms that result when opioids are diverted,” thus giving Walgreens notice that its failure to comply with these regulations would result in harmful opioid diversion. Id. at 1001.

The court also held that the evidence proved factual and proximate causation. “[C]ircumstantial evidence of sufficient substantiality”—namely that Walgreens, the largest dispenser of opioids in San Francisco, had failed to perform due diligence on thousands of suspicious prescriptions from 2006 to 2020 as the city experienced an opioid epidemic—satisfied causation in fact.147Id. at 1003–04. And the “cycle of addiction,” and its downstream burden on the city and the public, was foreseeable.148Id. at 1007. As a part of its proximate cause analysis, the court concluded that extending liability to Walgreens would not open the “floodgates” of litigation against any seller of a product with a known risk of harm because Walgreens’s liability stemmed from its unique fifteen-year failure to comply with federal regulation.149Id.

IV.  OPIOID ADDICTION INTERFERES WITH PUBLIC RIGHTS

The decision in City & County of San Francisco v. Purdue Pharma L.P. rebukes the traditionalist, categorical stance that public nuisance should not be extended to products. As demonstrated in San Francisco, opioid addiction interferes with public rights because addiction drives behavior that obstructs public space, forcing local government to incur substantial abatement costs. Moreover, this behavior can essentially turn entire neighborhoods into dangerous public drug dens featuring behavior that is offensive to witness.

Because California broadly defines public nuisance and public rights, the court did not base its judgment on a finding that Walgreens’s conduct interfered with public rights as traditionally understood in the common law.150See id. at 1008–09. This Note seeks to do so in order to demonstrate how products such as opioids can interfere with traditionally protected public rights in the hopes that states that have rejected public nuisance suits against product-caused harms in the name of tradition might be persuaded otherwise.

A.  Opioid Addiction Interferes with Public Space

Courts have refused to extend public nuisance liability in the opioid epidemic because opioids, like lead paint, do not interfere with public rights. For example, the Supreme Court of Oklahoma viewed the state’s public nuisance claim as a “private tort action for individual injuries sustained from use of a lawful product.”151State ex rel. Hunter v. Johnson & Johnson, 499 P.3d 719, 726–27 (Okla. 2021). This rationale largely stems from the Second Restatement’s definition of a public right as “collective in nature and not like the individual right that everyone has not to be assaulted or . . . negligently injured.”152Restatement (Second) of Torts § 821B cmt. g (Am. L. Inst. 1979).

But the opioid epidemic cannot be reduced to individual cases of private injury. It is frequently observed that a public nuisance is a condition rather than conduct,153See, e.g., Kendrick, supra note 4, at 755 (“Courts and commentators have observed that public nuisance focuses on a condition rather than on conduct—that is, on whether a particular condition interferes with a public right, not on whether someone acted unreasonably (or worse) in bringing it about.”). so it should be emphasized that, here, the condition is opioid addiction. Addiction inflicts private harm, especially in instances of overdose and death, but as demonstrated in San Francisco, it also inflicts substantial civic harm.

An aspect of opioid addiction’s civic harm resembles a classic common law public nuisance. The archetypal public nuisance is obstruction of a highway,154See id. at 716. and this is often referred to as an interference with the “public convenience” because the highway’s purpose is to improve travel for the public.155See Restatement (Second) of Torts § 821B cmt. b (Am. L. Inst. 1979). Similarly, municipalities set aside space for the public convenience: sidewalks make it easier to walk around town safe from motor vehicles; parks provide a place of respite and leisure from concrete city blocks; and libraries facilitate free access to information in a quiet environment.

Opioid addiction interferes with the public’s right to use these spaces as intended. In San Francisco, residents must navigate sidewalks strewn with health hazards, such as feces and needles, and obstructed with the bodies of individuals who are unconscious, and sometimes deceased, from opioid use.156City & County of San Francisco v. Purdue Pharma L.P., 620 F. Supp. 3d 936, 947–48 (N.D. Cal. 2022). Similarly, the prevalence of biohazards in parks impacts the safety of residents, especially infants.157Id. at 948. This is not an abstract danger: in November 2022, a ten-month-old toddler was hospitalized after being exposed to fentanyl in a San Francisco park.158Robert Handa, Baby Exposed to Fentanyl at San Francisco Park, Family Says, NBC Bay Area (Dec. 5, 2022, 1:50 PM), https://www.nbcbayarea.com/news/local/baby-exposed-fentanyl-san-francisco/3092940 [https://perma.cc/E2QK-TNNG]. Moreover, these biohazards cause closures until they can be removed.159City & County of San Francisco, 620 F. Supp. 3d at 948. People addicted to opioids can also obstruct access while in an opiated stupor, as shown in one park where the city built a barricade to provide safe access for parkgoers because of the number of opioid users lying about.160Id. And in libraries, visitors who seek quiet access to books and computers must contend with people overdosing outside the building, in the stacks, and in the bathrooms; needles left everywhere from bookshelves to children’s reading areas; and closures due to plumbing damage from flushed syringes.161Id. at 949.

1.  Opioid Addiction and Homelessness

Opioid addiction’s interference with public space stems from, at least in part, its significant relationship with homelessness. In making this connection, I do not intend to dehumanize homeless individuals; I simply point out the obvious impact a substantial, concentrated homeless population can have on a city’s public space and resources. While homelessness has many causes, the evidence at trial made clear that many of San Francisco’s homeless residents suffer from addiction. RPD’s outreach teams submitted that the vast majority of the homeless people living in San Francisco’s parks struggle with substance abuse.162Id. at 948. Similarly, the Fire Department’s EMS team described “frequent callers who rotate from the street to the emergency room and back to the street,” also suggesting that many of those suffering from opioid addiction are homeless.163Id. at 947. The EMS team further noted that a majority of individuals who die of overdose deaths in the city had prior contact with EMS.164Id. This underlines the terrifying power that opioids hold over the addicted when one considers that repeated overdose emergencies failed to stop these individuals from abusing opioids.

Unsurprisingly, the opioid epidemic in San Francisco corresponded with an increase in its homeless population. Between 2005 and 2020—the same period of time in which Walgreens’s conduct was examined at trial—the estimated homeless population in San Francisco rose from 5,404 to 8,124, and the unsheltered homeless population rose from 2,655 to 5,180.165Michael Shellenberger, San Fransicko: Why Progressives Ruin Cities 5 (2021). And between 2010—the year of OxyContin’s reformulation, which contributed to an increase in heroin use166See supra Section II.A.—and 2020, the number of calls to the city’s 311 line complaining about used hypodermic needles rose from 224 to 6,275.167Shellenberger, supra note 165, at 7. Assuming that housed opioid users would not be discarding needles in public spaces, this increase in 311 complaints may indicate greater opioid use among the homeless population. Similarly, from 2013 to 2016, complaints about homeless encampments also increased from two per day to sixty-three per day.168Id. at 3. While correlation does not equal causation and many persuasively argue that the primary driver of homelessness in California is a lack of affordable housing,169See, e.g., Jerusalem Demsas, The Obvious Answer to Homelessness, Atlantic (Dec. 23, 2022, 2:52 PM), https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2023/01/homelessness-affordable-housing-crisis-democrats-causes/672224 [https://perma.cc/R6V9-TF7N] (arguing that the primary cause of homelessness in Los Angeles and San Francisco is a lack of affordable housing due to incumbent homeowners who oppose development). it cannot be disputed that a relationship exists between the city’s visible increase in homelessness and drug use, as addiction can cause a person to spurn employment, housing, and family assistance.

Moreover, homelessness has become one of California’s top issues among voters, reflecting, at least in part, a public exasperated with ubiquitous encampments that feature harrowing spectacles of suffering and depravity. In a 2021 poll conducted by Los Angeles County—before the pandemic and then inflation became top concerns—94% of respondents said homelessness was “a serious or very serious problem.”170See id. And in a 2022 survey asking California voters to rank the top issue in California, 13% selected homelessness, just below the 15%—the largest cohort in the study—who selected “inflation or the rising cost of living.”171USC Schwarzenegger Institute—USC Price California Issues Poll Fall 2022 General Election Poll, USC Schwarzenegger Inst. (Nov. 4, 2022), https://schwarzenegger.usc.edu/institute_in_action/usc-schwarzenegger-institute-usc-price-california-issues-poll-fall-2022-general-election-poll [https://perma.cc/QGA9-YKEJ]. The fact that voters expect the government to take greater action on homelessness highlights the issue’s public impact, much like a traditional public nuisance.172See, e.g., Benjamin Oreskes & Doug Smith, L.A. Voters Are Angry, Think Elected Officials Aren’t Equipped to Solve Homelessness, L.A. Times (Feb. 10, 2022, 5:00 AM), https://www.latimes.com/homeless-housing/story/2022-02-10/new-survey-underscores-anger-about-homelessness-among-los-angeles-voters [https://perma.cc/CE96-6JRH] (“The professional pollsters who led the conversations [about homelessness] with 39 people in six groups said they were stunned by the depth of feeling and unanimity across party affiliation, socioeconomic standing, race and ethnicity.”).

2.  Opioid Addiction and Methamphetamine Use

One might counter that the increase in homelessness in cities such as San Francisco owes more to the concurrent rise in street use of the psychostimulant methamphetamine. Beginning in the mid-2000s, DEA chemists noticed a new form of street methamphetamine, one made with phenyl-2-propanone (“P2P”), which can be created in a lab using variety of legal, cheap chemicals that have various industrial uses.173Sam Quinones, ‘I Don’t Know That I Would Call It Meth Anymore,’ Atlantic (Oct. 18, 2021), https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2021/11/the-new-meth/620174 [https://perma.cc/FE3P-GFVA]. Methamphetamine had previously been made with the ingredient ephedrine in the 1980s and 1990s, but due to government clampdowns on ephedrine in the United States and Mexico, acquiring ephedrine in large quantities became less feasible. Id. An unlimited supply of P2P spurred industrial-scale production by Mexican cartels, making this new form of methamphetamine plentiful and cheap across America.174See id.

Alarmingly, this new methamphetamine is far more debilitating to the mental health of its users: professionals who work with recovering addicts and homeless people have noticed a startling spike of severe, methamphetamine-induced psychosis, even in those with no prior history of mental illness.175See id. For example, Susan Partovi, a physician who treats homeless people in Los Angeles, noticed increasing cases of schizophrenia and bipolar disorder in her clinics starting in 2012 and commented, “Now almost everyone we see when we do homeless outreach on the streets is on meth.” Id. Methamphetamine also causes paranoia and antisocial behavior that might explain the visible increase in tent encampments in San Francisco and Los Angeles, since tents provide privacy.176See id. (“Tents protect many homeless people from the elements. But tents and the new meth seem made for each other. With a tent, the user can retreat not just mentally from the world but physically.”). Los Angeles Superior Court Judge Craig Mitchell, who founded the Skid Row Running Club, attributes much of Los Angeles’ “visible homelessness”—people sleeping on sidewalks and in tents—to meth. Id. As a result, this new methamphetamine has presented difficulties for homeless-service workers and has thus complicated city efforts to abate the obstruction of public space caused by encampments.

However, “the increases in methamphetamine availability and harms are intertwined with the ongoing opioid overdose crisis.”177Christopher M. Jones, Debra Houry, Beth Han, Grant Baldwin, Alana Vivolo-Kantor & Wilson M. Compton, Methamphetamine Use in the United States: Epidemiological Update and Implications for Prevention, Treatment, and Harm Reduction, 1508 Annals N.Y. Acad. Scis. 3, 4 (2022). Opioid involvement in psychostimulant overdoses increased from 34.5% of overdose deaths in 2010 to 53.5% in 2019.178Id. Surveys of recovering addicts reveal that methamphetamine, a stimulant, is often used with opioids, a depressant, to achieve a synergistic high and counteract the negative effects that arise once the opioid high subsides.179See, e.g., id. at 12 (summarizing a study of individuals with opioid-use disorder from 170 treatment facilities in which 51% of respondents stated their primary reason for co-occurring use of the two drugs was “high seeking and synergistic effects” and 38.6% of respondents stated their primary reason was “to balance the effect between the two drugs”); Matthew S. Ellis, Zachary A. Kasper & Theodore J. Cicero, Twin Epidemics: The Surging Rise of Methamphetamine Use in Chronic Opioid Users, 193 Drug & Alcohol Dependence 14, 18 (2018); Public News Video, Homeless Addict in San Francisco Describes Violence on Street and Stealing to Feed His Habit, YouTube (Apr. 12, 2022), https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=koLD091dQ4U (interviewing a homeless man in San Francisco who states that “meth is just a given mostly[, since] you gotta [sic] do something to counteract the downer [of heroin]”). Thus, the rise in methamphetamine use and its severe mental health effects, at the least, cannot be understood independent of the opioid epidemic and, at the most, can be understood as a direct outgrowth of the epidemic. In either interpretation, opioid addiction has played a significant role in the recent increase of homelessness and the related rise in methamphetamine use that has made government efforts to convince people to accept services and leave encampments a Sisyphean challenge.

3.  Opioid Addiction and the High Cost of Abatement

Because of the opioid epidemic and the related interference with public space and rise in homelessness, San Francisco has incurred significant abatement costs. In 2019, the city spent nearly $100 million on street cleaning—an amount four times more than Chicago, which has 3.5 times as many people and a surface area 4.5 times as large.180Shellenberger, supra note 165, at 3. Opioid related conditions “overwhelm the city’s hospitals” and “tax[] the city’s emergency service teams.”181City & County of San Francisco v. Purdue Pharma L.P., 620 F. Supp. 3d 936, 1009 (N.D. Cal. 2022). San Francisco’s Fire Department, Public Works, Recreation and Parks, and Public Library all have created special teams and allocated resources to respond to the unique challenges presented by the epidemic.182See supra Part III. Additionally, the city has made a “significant investment in public health programs designed to combat opioid abuse.”183City & County of San Francisco, 620 F. Supp. 3d at 943. Moreover, because of the link between opioid addiction and homelessness in San Francisco, the staggering $367.7-million budget for the city’s Department of Homelessness and Supportive Housing for 2019–2020 also reflects some of the costs of the opioid epidemic.184HSH Budget, Dep’t of Homelessness & Supportive Hous., https://hsh.sfgov.org/about/budget [https://perma.cc/2JVA-BUXR].

Because of this significant investment, the opioid epidemic also underlines the enduring, important role of public nuisance as a stopgap measure when regulation fails to protect the public. Scholars have argued that public nuisance no longer serves an important stopgap measure in an era of comprehensive regulation.185See, e.g., Merrill, supra note 39, at 32 (arguing that the legislature, rather than the courts, is best equipped to determine how the “costs of regulating public bads should be apportioned among different members of the community”). But, as Dana has noted, “[t]he administrative state has never been perfect at protecting the public from harm, but we do appear to be living in a time when notable regulatory failure and inaction is becoming more, not less, common.”186Dana, supra note 16, at 63.

The opioid epidemic thus reveals the important role of public nuisance in the event of such regulatory failure:

[I]n opioids, an alphabet soup of federal governmental agencies (including the FDA, DEA, and Department of Justice) had significant authority to address the burgeoning opioid problem. In creating a comprehensive regulatory scheme, the legislative branch seemingly did its work. But numerous agencies nevertheless stood by, even as pill mills proliferated, the death toll spiked, and millions of painkillers were pumped into, and decimated, certain communities.187Engstrom & Rabin, supra note 52, at 337.

Even though Walgreens paid $80 million to settle investigations brought by the DEA and Department of Justice for CSA violations at a distribution center and six retail pharmacies in Florida,188Press Release, U.S. Attorney’s Office, Southern District of Florida, Walgreens Agrees to Pay a Record Settlement of $80 Million for Civil Penalties Under the Controlled Substances Act (June 11, 2013), https://www.justice.gov/usao-sdfl/pr/walgreens-agrees-pay-record-settlement-80-million-civil-penalties-under-controlled [https://perma.cc/N6V3-KD6Q]. the company failed to adequately reform its operations and prevent opioid diversion.189City & County of San Francisco v. Purdue Pharma L.P., 620 F. Supp. 3d 936, 998 (N.D. Cal. 2022) (“The evidence presented at trial makes clear that Walgreens, the dominant retail pharmacy chain in San Francisco, which had a history of failing to comply with federal regulations, filled a significant volume of illegitimate opioid prescriptions.”). In other words, despite extensive regulation, Walgreens’s San Francisco pharmacies, more likely than not, failed to conduct due diligence on red flag prescriptions from 2006 to 2020, an oversight that forced San Francisco to foot the bill.190Id. at 1000.

B.  Opioid Addiction Interferes with Public Morals

Opioid addiction also interferes with community interests in a manner that resembles problem properties, which were traditionally treated as public nuisances in England and America. William Sheppard identified “lewd-ale houses” as a common nuisance in the 1660s,191Spencer, supra note 21, at 60. and William Blackstone in 1769 listed as public nuisances “all disorderly inns or ale-houses, bawdy-houses, gaming-houses” and “cottages . . . erected singly on the waste, being harbors for thieves and other idle and dissolute persons.”1924 William Blackstone, Commentaries *110. Similarly, early public nuisance cases in America addressed not only obstructions of highways and waterways but also a “loose amalgamation of minor offenses involving public morals or the public welfare.”193See Gifford, supra note 31, at 800–01. William Prosser, who served as reporter of the Second Restatement, categorized problem properties—“houses of prostitution, illegal liquor establishments, [and] gaming houses”—as interfering with public morals.194Prosser, supra note 17, at 1000 (footnote omitted). Thus, the common law in England and America treated properties that attracted illicit, immoral behavior as public nuisances because they were offensive and disruptive to the surrounding community.

California courts have long abated the type of immoral, illicit activity associated with problem properties in public nuisance claims. In 1997, the California Supreme Court upheld an injunction against a San Jose gang for open drug use and dealing, loud music, appropriation of public space, vandalism, and violence.195People ex rel. Gallo v. Acuna, 929 P.2d 596, 601, 604 (Cal. 1997). Despite widespread criticism of the case among academics,196See Gifford, supra note 31, at 777. the court persuasively articulated that the purpose of public nuisance is to “protect the quality of organized social life.”197Gallo, 929 P.2d at 604. This principle justified the abatement of problem properties in the days of Sheppard and Blackstone and thus marks a common law continuance, not a departure. And in 2015, the Second District Court of Appeals in Benetatos v. City of Los Angeles affirmed the classification of a restaurant as a public nuisance because its operation created a condition of lawless blight that attracted loitering, drinking, drug dealing, prostitution, and violence on the property.198Benetatos v. City of Los Angeles, 186 Cal. Rptr. 3d 46, 58–59 (Ct. App. 2015).

Opioid addiction has similarly ravaged the quality of organized social life in cities by turning parks and neighborhoods into lawless dens of drug use, petty crime, and antisocial behavior. In San Francisco, open-air drug markets have taken over the Tenderloin neighborhood and United Nations Plaza, exposing local residents and visitors to blatant drug deals and drug use in streets strewn with garbage, feces, and needles.199See, e.g., Shellenberger, supra note 165, at 231; Trisha Thadani, Disaster in Plain Sight, S.F. Chronicle (Feb. 2, 2022, 7:30 PM), https://www.sfchronicle.com/projects/2022/sf-fentanyl-opioid-epidemic [https://perma.cc/3L34-3QEG]; City Officials Detail Efforts to Target Open-Air Drug Dealing, SF.gov (Oct. 5, 2022), https://sf.gov/news/city-officials-detail-efforts-target-open-air-drug-dealing-0 [https://perma.cc/ZSK2-VJNK]. Judge Breyer even noted that “outside this courthouse, people suffering from severe opioid addiction buy, sell, and use opioids in plain sight.”200City & County of San Francisco v. Purdue Pharma L.P., 620 F. Supp. 3d 936, 946 (N.D. Cal. 2022). At United Nations Plaza, street vendors sell allegedly stolen goods on the sidewalk,201See J.D. Morris, San Francisco to Crack Down on Stolen Goods Resold on Sidewalks, S.F. Chronicle (Mar. 9, 2022, 6:25 PM), https://www.sfchronicle.com/sf/article/San-Francisco-seeks-to-crackdown-on-stolen-goods-16985089.php [https://perma.cc/CXE2-EAD3]. and some commentators have attributed San Francisco’s increase in property crimes such as larceny, beginning in 2012, to people seeking money to purchase drugs.202See Shellenberger, supra note 165, at 192–94.

Opioid conditions thus interfere with the public morals by facilitating the type of petty criminality and vice that justifies the abatement of problem properties. One might criticize a common law conception of “public morals” as antiquated in the twenty-first century; certainly, public sentiment is far more understanding and lenient towards drug use and prostitution and far more critical of moralistic judgment. But even so, people still seem to respond negatively to illicit behavior in public. To provide just one example, in Benetatos v. City of Los Angeles, the record included a citizen’s declaration from nearby residents and business owners lamenting the violence and prostitution outside the restaurant.203Benetatos, 186 Cal. Rptr. 3d at 53 (“[W]e have our babies over there in that community, and we need to look out for our babies that’s our future, and something need to be done. I mean, it’s no way that should be going on.” (quoting a citizen in the declaration)). In fact, the Los Angeles Police Department launched its nuisance investigation in response to “recent complaints,”204Id. at 49. presumably from neighbors. And in San Francisco, the successful recall in June 2022 of progressive San Francisco District Attorney Chesa Boudin, who was criticized as being soft on crime, suggests an increasing frustration among residents with quality of life and lawless behavior that the government has failed to address.205See Nellie Bowles, How San Francisco Became a Failed City, Atlantic (June 8, 2022), https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2022/06/how-san-francisco-became-failed-city/661199 [https://perma.cc/AXP7-9X4R] (“During his campaign, Boudin said he wouldn’t prosecute quality-of-life crimes.”).

C.  Distinguishing Opioids with Other Products

The courts and critics that categorically refuse to apply public nuisance to products might be right to note that California’s recognition of a public right “to housing that does not poison children”206People v. ConAgra Grocery Prods. Co., 227 Cal. Rptr. 3d 499, 552 (Ct. App. 2017). is essentially the same as a right to not be negligently injured, which the Second Restatement explicitly characterizes as a private, rather than public, right.207Restatement (Second) of Torts § 821B cmt. g (Am. L. Inst. 1979). But see Kendrick, supra note 4, at 750 (arguing that the common law conception of public rights, as outlined by Sheppard and Blackstone, encompassed “individualized rights when threatened in the aggregate”). This reasoning adheres to a traditionalist understanding of public nuisance and distinguishes it from legislatively authorized product liability law.

Other critics have argued the history of public nuisance paints a more complicated picture. Kendrick has looked to the “common nuisances” William Sheppard listed in the 1660s—“victuallers, butchers, bakers, cooks, brewers, maltsters and apothecaries who sell products unfit for human consumption”—and questioned whether “there [is] some fine distinction between the activity of selling products and products themselves.”208Kendrick, supra note 4, at 738. And Dana has argued that while product liability law has been legislatively authorized, it is also a “common law creation of the courts,” so courts should have the authority to “interpret it to leave space for products-based public nuisance claims.”209Dana, supra note 16, at 99.

But this Note primarily argues that opioid addiction has obstructed public space much like the canonical highway blockage and offended public morals much like the canonical problem property. Opioids can therefore be readily distinguished from other products such as lead paint. The former causes tangible harm to the public square, while the latter causes harm within the privacy of the home. The condition of opioid addiction, not unlike the toxic waste in Hooker II, has spilled over onto public sidewalks, parks, and libraries, requiring expensive clean up, emergency response, and social services to abate. And as in Hooker II, in which the chemical company was still liable after selling the toxic dump site, those responsible for the opioid epidemic should not escape liability on the basis that they no longer control the condition that gave rise to the nuisance. Accordingly, the categorical stance against products fails to protect long-recognized public rights from interference.

Thus, the California court of appeal holding in ConAgra Grocery Products, that lead paint interferes with a public right “to housing that does not poison children,”210People v. ConAgra Grocery Prods. Co., 227 Cal. Rptr. 3d 499, 552 (Ct. App. 2017). is incongruous with the common law understanding of public nuisance. But California’s flexible treatment of public rights should not encourage other states to dismiss public nuisance claims concerning products if those products interfere with traditionally recognized public rights, as opioids do.

D.  Addressing Counter Arguments

This Section will address three counterarguments211This Section does not address all potential critiques to my argument. For a thorough overview of the critiques of public nuisance claims in the context of opioids, see generally Kendrick, supra note 4 (summarizing traditionalist, formalist, and institutionalist objections to public nuisance claims against products and rebutting them in turn).: (1) opioid defendants are not the proximate cause of the interference with public rights, (2) misguided city policy, rather than opioid addiction, is responsible for the public nuisance in San Francisco, and (3) a flood of litigation will ensue if public nuisance is extended to harms caused by legal products.

1.  Proximate Cause Objection

This Note argues that opioid addiction interferes with public rights; nonetheless, even accepting that such an interference has taken place, one might counter that defendants such as Walgreens are not the proximate cause of the interference. In California, proximate causation is an element of a prima facie public nuisance claim,212City & County of San Francisco v. Purdue Pharma L.P., 620 F. Supp. 3d 936, 1002 (N.D. Cal. 2022). and in a typical action, the causal chain is quite clear: a defendant’s unreasonable conduct creates a harmful condition, and that condition interferes with public rights. For example, a man who digs a ditch in a road has created a condition that interferes with public convenience. However, a defendant’s conduct in opioid cases—whether that be misleading advertising by manufacturers or negligent supervision of red-flag prescriptions by pharmacies—results in an interference with public rights only because of the intervening action of opioid users. The principle of novus actus interveniens would suggest that opioid manufacturers and pharmacies could not be held liable for the behavior of opioid users because their independent wrongdoing marks a break in the causal chain.

However, the stranglehold of opioid addiction can cause a person to spurn employment, family, shelter, and ultimately life itself, distinguishing opioids from other products such as guns that bear no influence over the free will of their user. As Judge Breyer noted, opioids can ensnare even unsuspecting patients into helpless addiction, making downstream consequences such as “crime, homelessness, and destruction of city property” foreseeable.213Id. at 1007. Moreover, just as the crimes of intervening third parties did not absolve the restaurant owner in Benetatos v. City of Los Angeles of public nuisance liability because the owner failed to ameliorate the blighted condition of his property, here, the intervening behavior of opioid addicts should not absolve manufacturers, dispensers, and pharmacies from contributing to the underlying condition that perpetuates this behavior.

2.  The Role of Public Policy

One could also argue that progressive policies, rather than manufacturers and pharmacies, are the cause of the interference with public rights in San Francisco. At least since the Summer of Love in 1967, San Francisco has earned a worldwide reputation for being tolerant towards drug use and homelessness.214See Shellenberger, supra note 165, at 54–55. But following the punitive and, in retrospect, controversial state response to the 1980s crack-cocaine epidemic and the violence it generated, California voters embraced policies more lenient towards drug possession and use. In 2000, voters passed Proposition 36, which required that “people convicted of the possession, use, or transportation of controlled substances and similar parole violations, except sale or manufacture of drugs, receive probation and drug treatment, rather than incarceration.”215California Proposition 36, Probation and Treatment for Drug-Related Offenses Initiative (2000), Ballotpedia, https://ballotpedia.org/California_Proposition_36,_Probation_and_Treatment_for_Drug-Related_Offenses_Initiative_(2000) [https://perma.cc/SAT9-ZPJN]. Similarly, in 2014, voters passed Proposition 47, which recategorized a variety of nonviolent crimes, including personal use of most illegal drugs and shoplifting of property less than $950, as misdemeanors.216California Proposition 47, Reduced Penalties for Some Crimes Initiative (2014), Ballotpedia, https://ballotpedia.org/California_Proposition_47,_Reduced_Penalties_for_Some_Crimes_Initiative_(2014) [https://perma.cc/K27L-UMZV]. And beginning in 2009, cities such as Los Angeles and San Francisco implemented a “Housing First” approach to homelessness that offers housing with no condition on sobriety.217See Shellenberger, supra note 165, at 58. Critics of these policies argue that it has prevented law enforcement from compelling drug treatment for offenders and from policing crimes such as shoplifting and petty theft that provide those suffering from addiction with the cash to fund their drug use.218See, e.g., id. at 57–58.

While these policies have likely exacerbated the opioid epidemic’s impact on civic order, evidence suggests that opioid addiction has inflicted similar community harm in other states. For example, in the red state of Kentucky, a “county-level survey commissioned by Purdue . . . revealed that ‘[9] out of 10 [people surveyed] agreed that OxyContin had a ‘devastating effect’ on the community.’ ”219Kendrick, supra note 4, at 753–54 (detailing “[i]llegal drug deals . . . in hospital parking lots and school zones,” “[c]oal miners snort[ing] painkillers on the job,” and “FedEx trucks being knocked off”). Thus, it would be inaccurate to categorically claim that opioid addiction does not interfere with public rights.

3.  Concerns About a Flood of Litigation

Many critics contend that if courts extend public nuisance to opioids, then courts would be flooded with product liability suits disguised as public nuisance suits for potentially any legal product that, when misused, causes harm. The middle-road understanding of public nuisance that this Note champions recognizes two primary constraints that should assuage this concern.

First, a product must interfere with a public right to create a public nuisance. As Dana has noted, this requirement distinguishes public nuisance from product liability law because the latter is “focused on the harms specifically borne by discrete individuals, such as individual loss of earning power, medical expenses, and pain and suffering.”220See Dana, supra note 16, at 100. By categorically refusing to apply public nuisance to harms from products, courts may hamper government ability to counteract actual infringements on public rights.

Opposing this categorical view, some critics argue that a dogmatic, traditionalist understanding of public nuisance inhibits the doctrine’s potential as a stopgap measure when regulation fails to protect the public. Kendrick has stated that courts and scholars should “interpret the concept of ‘public rights’ more loosely” and believes that an aggregation of a large number of private harms from products should support a public nuisance claim.221See Kendrick, supra note 4, at 750. Citing early common law cases and broadly worded public nuisance statutes in America, she argues “contemporary formalist tendencies have gone too far.”222See id. at 750–52. California’s statute supports her view.223See id. at 751. California’s statute states that a nuisance is public (rather than private) if it affects a “considerable number of persons.” Cal. Civ. Code § 3480 (West 2023).

Kendrick’s approach, while persuasive, would likely not convince skeptical courts concerned about a flood of litigation. Such concerns are warranted: in the decades following the successful Master Settlement Agreement with tobacco companies, public nuisance claims have proliferated against companies for harms the doctrine has not traditionally redressed.224See, e.g., Kendrick, supra note 4, at 705–06 (footnotes omitted) (“[Public nuisance] has also spurred hundreds of mostly unsuccessful actions across the nation involving, among other things, handguns, lead contamination, water pollution, and predatory lending.”). Take opioids: the consolidated MDL litigation in federal court consists of 3,000 lawsuits brought by tribes, municipalities, counties, and states as of October 2022 while separate actions have been brought in state court.225Id. at 732. Unlike the tobacco litigation, in which the attorneys general of all fifty states sued tobacco companies and coordinated an all-encompassing settlement, the opioid litigation features a far greater number of plaintiffs and defendants, complicating an efficient pathway to settle all future claims. Understandably, this litigation presents a “genuinely terrifying” prospect for defendants.226Engstrom & Rabin, supra note 52, at 339–40.

The public nuisance litigation against Juul Labs Inc., which allegedly marketed its e-cigarette and fruit-flavored vapor to youth and downplayed the vapor’s high nicotine content, is another example. Even though these lawsuits have garnered over $1 billion in settlements with forty-seven states and territories and more than five thousand individuals, school districts, and local governments, once Juul withdrew many of its popular flavors in response to regulatory and public pressure, competitors swarmed the market with fruit-flavored alternatives, presenting “an enforcement dilemma” for the FDA, which has only authorized “fewer than two dozen vaping products.”227See Christina Jewett & Julie Creswell, Juul Reaches $462 Million Settlement with New York, California and Other States, N.Y. Times (Apr. 12, 2023), https://www.nytimes.com/2023/04/12/health/juul-vaping-settlement-new-york-california.html [https://web.archive.org/web/20231011202337/https://www.nytimes.com/2023/04/12/health/juul-vaping-settlement-new-york-california.html]. Unlike the centralized state-led tobacco litigation, plaintiff lawyers representing school districts joined the fray and shared in the settlements under a tenuous public nuisance theory, and now these plaintiff lawyers and school districts are bringing similar actions against social media companies.228Cyrus Farivar, School Districts Took on Juul with a Novel Legal Strategy. Now They’re Going After Social Media Giants, Forbes (Apr. 18, 2023, 6:30 AM), https://www.forbes.com/sites/cyrusfarivar/2023/04/18/school-districts-took-on-juul-with-a-novel-legal-strategy-now-theyre-going-after-social-media-giants [https://perma.cc/2FNG-2J8V].

Thus, critics hold legitimate concerns that public nuisance gives plaintiff lawyers “the ability to intimidate market participants and reshape the economy without ever scoring a conclusive win in a courtroom (never mind a legislature).”229David B. Rivkin Jr. & O.H. Skinner, Opinion, The ‘Public Nuisance’ Menace, Wall. St. J. (Aug. 16, 2023, 1:25 PM), https://www.wsj.com/articles/public-nuisance-gun-pharma-car-theft-pollution-fossil-fuels-trial-lawyer-settlement-abuse-power-f45a8581 [https://archive.ph/xL6fX]. Indeed, the uncoordinated nature of the opioid and Juul litigation and the substitution of prescription opioids and Juul e-cigarettes with alternatives that evade a similar state crackdown raise important questions about whether these suits are more about abatement or more about sharing in the spoils of a company’s downfall, like some communal feast on the savanna after a large lion is outnumbered and slain. Because a public nuisance doctrine in which a large number of private injuries could satisfy the public rights element might result in even more litigation, public nuisance should only redress harms that interfere with traditional public rights.

Second, the other elements in a prima facie public nuisance claim should prevent a flood of litigation against makers of legal products. For example, in California, public nuisance claims require a showing that a party has “knowledge that its unreasonable conduct caused a substantial interference with a right common to the public.”230City & County of San Francisco v. Purdue Pharma L.P., 620 F. Supp. 3d 936, 998 (N.D. Cal. 2022). Even if a state can prove a defendant interfered with a public right, the state still must demonstrate the defendant’s conduct was unreasonable and the cause of the interference. For example, a California state court held that opioid manufacturers were not liable for creating a public nuisance because the state’s evidence of a statistical increase in statewide prescriptions did not prove that false marketing caused medically inappropriate prescriptions.231People v. Purdue Pharma L.P., No. 30-2014-00725287-CU-BT-CXC, 2021 Cal. Super. LEXIS 31743, at *2, *10 (Dec. 14, 2021). With no evidence of inappropriate prescriptions, the court found that the marketing was reasonable because the social utility of medically appropriate prescriptions outweighs any harm they might cause.232Id. at *18. The Second Restatement and many states also require, at a minimum, knowledge of unreasonable risk for a defendant to be liable for public nuisance, so this same burden of proof applies elsewhere.233See Kendrick, supra note 4, at 756–58. Some states require a higher burden of proof: either negligence or violation of a statute. See id. Therefore, if a product has social utility and is sold legally, then a plaintiff must satisfy a high burden of proof to show a defendant acted unreasonably.

CONCLUSION

A daunting drug epidemic confronts the United States and its institutions. Drug overdose deaths are at historic highs, and more than four out of five Americans who need treatment for illicit drug use do not receive it.234Fact Sheet: Addressing Addiction and the Overdose Epidemic, White House: Briefing Room (Mar. 1, 2022), https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/statements-releases/2022/03/01/fact-sheet-addressing-addiction-and-the-overdose-epidemic [https://perma.cc/FSN4-98CN]. Voracious demand for drugs has poured billions into coffers of drug traffickers, who internationally “threaten[] global stability” and domestically “contribute to public health challenges and violence.”235Id. City & County of San Francisco v. Purdue Pharma L.P. provides an indelible account of the impact of addiction on civic order. Those who argue that legal products cannot interfere with public rights need only visit San Francisco’s sidewalks, parks, and libraries. There, opioid addiction interferes with public rights by obstructing public space and exposing residents to illicit behavior that, at the least, is offensive to witness in broad daylight and, at the most, poses a legitimate threat to safety and health.

While the opioid litigation appears to be in its final phase,236See supra Section II.B (detailing the comprehensive settlements that many of the largest manufacturers, distributers, and pharmacies have reached with public plaintiffs). public nuisance should have the flexibility to address infringements on traditional public rights—even if caused by a legal product. Future products may pose novel threats to public rights and, like opioids, may require action from all branches of government. The middle-ground approach to public nuisance outlined in this Note would achieve this end.

97 S. Cal. L. Rev. 767

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* University of Southern California Gould School of Law, Class of 2024. I am grateful to Professor Gregory C. Keating for his excellent seminar on public nuisance and for his personal guidance and feedback on this Note. I am also grateful to my fellow members of the Southern California Law Review, especially Jack Frisbie, Class of 2023, who provided helpful feedback on early drafts, and the editors on Volume 97 who helped edit and refine this Note for publication.

“Bob Jones University” in the 21st Century: An Examination of Charitable Tax-Exempt Status and Religious Exemption from Title IX for Religious Colleges That Discriminate Against LGBTQ+ Students

INTRODUCTION

On March 30, 2021, the Religious Exemption Accountability Project (“REAP”) filed a historic class action lawsuit with the goal of challenging the abusive conditions that many private religious colleges and universities have created for LGBTQ+ students. These unsafe conditions have been permitted for decades by the U.S. Department of Education’s policies surrounding religious freedom.1First Amended Complaint at 2–3, Hunter v. U.S. Dep’t of Educ., No. 6:21-cv-00474-AA (D. Or. June 7, 2021). In the complaint, plaintiffs criticize the privileges—tax-exempt status and government funding—that are bestowed upon these institutions despite their discriminatory practices, denouncing the special treatment they receive simply for shrouding their behavior in religious justifications for protection. The complaint went on to criticize the religious exemption to Title IX, alleging that it “permits the Department to breach its duty as to the more than 100,000 sexual and gender minority students attending religious colleges and universities where discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation and gender identity is codified in campus policies and openly practiced.”2Id.

There are many documented cases in which private religious institutions have engaged in discrimination against LGBTQ+ students without legal repercussions—often involving the enforcement of an “honor code” that prohibits certain types of gender and sexuality expression. For example, one student was expelled from Southwestern Christian University—a semester shy of graduation—when school officials discovered that she was married to a same-sex partner; the school pointed to a “lifestyle covenant” that prohibited “Lesbian, Gay, Bi-sexual and Transgender (LGBT) behavior or acts” to justify its decision.3Human Rights Campaign, Hidden Discrimination: Title IX Religious Exemptions Putting LGBT Students at Risk 13 (2015). Another student, who is transgender, was expelled from California Baptist University after the school alleged that she committed fraud on her school application by listing her gender as “female.”4Id. at 10. In this case, the student, Domaine Javier, sued the school for an alleged violation of the state Unruh Civil Rights Act, which provides, “[a]ll persons within the jurisdiction of this state are free and equal, and no matter what their sex, race, color, religion, ancestry, national origin, disability, medical condition, genetic information, marital status, sexual orientation, citizenship, primary language, or immigration status are entitled to the full and equal accommodations, advantages, facilities, privileges, or services in all business establishments of every kind whatsoever.” Unruh Civil Rights Act, Cal. Civ. Code § 51(b) (West 2023). The court refused to grant relief, ruling that her expulsion was not prohibited because the school’s educational activities did not qualify as a “business establishment.” Human Rights Campaign, supra note 3, at 10. Another student, after it was revealed that she was in a same-sex relationship, was barred from enrolling in her final semester at Grace University; she was told that she could re-enroll only “if she went through a restoration program involving mandatory church attendance, meetings with counselors and mentors, and regular communication with a school dean.” She was eventually expelled for continuing to date women, and the school demanded that she return thousands of dollars in federal financial aid money.5Human Rights Campaign, supra, note 3, at 15. The complaint filed by REAP alleged dozens of additional acts of discrimination against LGBTQ+ students. The named plaintiff on the lawsuit, Elizabeth Hunter, was subject to discipline from Bob Jones University after posting online about LGBTQ+ issues, including “her posts about reading a book with a lesbian main character, and about writing a book including a lesbian relationship.”6First Amended Complaint at 12, Hunter v. U.S. Dep’t of Educ., No. 6:21-cv-00474-AA. Another plaintiff, Victoria Joy Bacon, alleged that school officials at Lipscomb University directed homophobic and transphobic statements against them, including slurs, and that resident advisors witnessed them being called slurs and refused to intervene.7Id. at 19. Nathan Brittsan only attended Fuller Theological Seminary for a few days before being expelled for being homosexual and married to a same-sex partner.8Id. at 22. Scott McSwain was told by Union University that he was “going to hell” and that he would be expelled if he did not attend sexual conversion therapy.9Id. at 44. These examples represent only a fraction of the reported discrimination that LGBTQ+ students have been subjected to by private religious institutions.

In the REAP lawsuit, plaintiffs argued that it is constitutionally impermissible for government funding to be distributed to private educational institutions that engage in discrimination against students, either through official policies and honor codes or unofficially through other channels. However, I argue that a bright line rule consistent with this position would be difficult to implement in any practical sense—not only because it is virtually impossible for schools to operate without any government funding at all, but also because taking any legislative action to restrict funding to these schools would be extremely unpopular in the current political environment. Under current IRS tax policies, it is unlikely that private religious institutions could have their tax-exempt status revoked for engaging in discrimination on the basis of gender identity or sexual orientation. The most promising route for holding schools responsible for such behavior by revoking tax-exempt status is the IRS promulgating a new regulation forbidding organizations that discriminate on the basis of gender identity or sexual orientation from being categorized as “charitable” for the purpose of tax exemption. The Court should then uphold this new policy by extending the holding of Bob Jones University v. United States beyond just racial discrimination. This order of operations is crucial, as it seems unlikely that a potential extension of Bob Jones University would be effective if not preceded by a new IRS policy. Congress, as the ultimate source of authority for the IRS, has the power to modify those policies which it considers improper. However, it seems likely that independent agency action coupled with judicial review would be more successful than getting the legislative branch to make the politically-unpopular decision to threaten the tax-exempt status of a large number of private religious colleges and universities. Even when Bob Jones University was engaging in blatant racial discrimination to such an extent that the majority of the public did not approve, it was the IRS and Supreme Court that took action, not Congress.

All of the schools mentioned above claim to be exempt from Title IX for religious reasons, and  none has ever been subjected to substantive investigations or discipline from the federal government for civil rights violations against LGBTQ+ students. In the REAP lawsuit, plaintiffs argue that the religious exemption to Title IX, to the extent that it allows institutions to discriminate against students on the basis of gender identity and sexual orientation, is a violation of the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. However, I am highly skeptical that the Court would issue a holding consistent with this position any time in the foreseeable future. Thus, some practical stop-gap solutions are necessary. First, there needs to be a dramatic reconfiguration of the religious exemption to Title IX. At the very least, the current process of automatically granting religious exemption to any religious educational institution leaves a lot of ambiguity about what protections exist for students and what remedies are available; moreover, it gives implicit permission to such institutions to engage in more and more discriminatory behavior because they were given no conditions on which their exemption would be granted and they have no fear of losing the exemption. Beyond this, the enforcement mechanisms behind Title IX need to be bolstered so that schools operate with a more legitimate fear of negative consequences if they break the law. Currently, the Office for Civil Rights’ (“OCR’s”) only real enforcement mechanism is the threat of cutting off federal funding, but since this has never been done, it is a hollow threat.

There is an infinite number of questions that could be explored in relation to private religious colleges and universities and their religious free exercise rights. In this Note, I seek to limit my focus to just the issue of discrimination against members of the LGBTQ+ community—those who are gender-identity or sexuality minorities. For example, although Title IX governs the way that school administrations respond to sexual assault and sexual harassment allegations made by members of the campus community, this Note does not seek to address this facet of the Act’s effects other than to the extent that such actions (or lack of action) constitute sex-based discrimination (for example, failure to respond to sexual assault allegations made by LGBTQ+ students). I am aware of recent high-profile scandals at certain private religious institutions involving sexual assault and failure to follow proper reporting and investigation procedures laid out by Title IX; although important, addressing these systematic failures would distract from the religious exemption to Title IX and the disparate treatment that LGBTQ+ minority students are subjected to. Furthermore, this Note does not directly address discrimination perpetrated by primary or secondary schools; rather, the focus is placed on post-secondary educational institutions. Despite this narrow focus, the information and analysis provided in this Note will hopefully prove useful to other scholars who seek to apply my argument to a broader array of educational settings.

Scholarly literature has already examined the tax-exempt status question to a certain extent regarding the history and potential application of the Bob Jones University case. Some articles, like The Story of Bob Jones University v. United States: Race, Religion, and Congress’ Extraordinary Acquiescence, take the position that the case only came out the way it did because race is treated much differently than other protected categories.10Olatunde C. A. Johnson, The Story of Bob Jones University v. United States: Race, Religion, and Congress’ Extraordinary Acquiescence 21–22 (Columbia L. Sch. Pub. L. . & Legal Theory Working Paper, Paper No. 10-229, 2010). This is somewhat contrary to the argument of this Note: the holding in Bob Jones University should be extended to protect students against discrimination beyond that which is solely on the basis of race. Other articles criticize the Court’s holding in Bob Jones University as overly broad and failing to take into consideration the school’s viable religious liberty claims. One such article, Bob Jones University v. United States: A Political Analysis, highlights what it refers to as the “hazards” of the Supreme Court getting involved in such questions, holding out free exercise of religion as an important principle. Despite this article’s fundamental disagreement with my proposal that the holding in Bob Jones University be extended, the article contributes a great amount of political analysis of the history of tax-exempt status for religious institutions and the cases that have developed the Court’s jurisprudence on the issue.11Neal Devins, Bob Jones University v. United States: A Political Analysis, Wm. & Mary J. L. & Pol. 403, 404 (1984). This information allowed me to more fully understand how policy and jurisprudence might most effectively evolve in the future. Some articles, such as The Sexual Integrity of Religious Schools and Tax Exemption, touch on the Obergefell v. Hodges decision and how the recognition of same-sex couples’ fundamental right to marry may impact the civil rights owed to them in educational contexts. The aforementioned article notably takes the position that the Court’s decision in Obergefell is explicitly inconsistent with “applying Bob Jones to the disadvantage of religious schools that maintain sexual conduct policies”—which is at odds with the central position of this Note.12Johnny Rex Buckles, The Sexual Integrity of Religious Schools and Tax Exemption, 40 Harv. J.L. & Pub. Pol’y 255, 267, 314–18 (2017). Other articles, such as Discrimination in the Name of the Lord and Discriminatory Religious Schools and Tax-Exempt Status, offer relevant analysis of the interaction between free exercise by religious universities and the civil rights protections afforded to students; however, their decades-old perspectives require updating in light of relevant legal and political developments.

Scholarly literature has also explored the issue of religious exemption from Title IX. One article, Should Religious Groups Be Exempt from Civil Rights Laws?, delves deeply into the issue, examining civil rights protections for race, sex, and sexual orientation.13Martha Minow, Should Religious Groups Be Exempt from Civil Rights Laws?, 48 B.C. L. Rev. 781, 783 (2007). However, there is a gap in this article, written in 2007, which does not account for new developments in the law surrounding the definition of discrimination “on the basis of sex,” especially in the context of civil rights laws like Title IX and Title VII. This has important implications for what is thus categorized as discrimination on the basis of sex. In the U.S. Supreme Court’s October 2019 term, the Court released an opinion in Bostock v. Clayton County that held, “[a]n employer who fires an individual merely for being gay or transgender violates Title VII.”14Bostock v. Clayton Cnty, 140 S. Ct. 1731, 1737 (2020). This opinion relies on a new (to the Supreme Court’s jurisprudence) definition of discrimination on the basis of sex. If this definition is applied to Title IX as well, there may be implications for how colleges and universities must act in order to remain in compliance with Title IX.

One work of scholarship stands out in particular for its similarity to this Note’s contribution to the debate. In 2022, the Brigham Young University Prelaw Review published an article entitled The Constitutionality of the Title IX Religious Exemption. This article responds to the Hunter v. Department of Education lawsuit, but its author, Madelyn Jacobsen, makes the opposite argument from mine by arguing that the religious exemption to Title IX is “crucial for maintaining [religious] diversity in higher education” and that restricting or eliminating the religious exemption to Title IX would necessarily constitute a restriction on free exercise of religion.15Madelyn Jacobsen, The Constitutionality of the Title IX Religious Exemption, 36 BYU Prelaw Rev. 67, 69 (2022). Jacobsen mimics the language often used in legal disputes surrounding free exercise of religious “closely held beliefs.” This Note contributes a much-needed alternative perspective on the debate where the Jacobsen article left a clear gap. Another work of scholarship stands out in particular for the similarities that the author brings in personal background that contribute to the article’s perspective. The author of Loving the Sinner: Evangelical Colleges and Their LGB Students notes that she attended Wheaton College, a private Christian college that is one of the many targets of the Hunter v. Department of Education lawsuit, and reflects on this experience as being “encased in a protective coating of ignorance and denial” about her homosexuality.16Elizabeth J. Hubertz, Loving the Sinner: Evangelical Colleges and Their LGB Students, 35 Quinnipiac L. Rev. 147, 175 (2017). Because of this background, the author homes in on the personal experiences of LGBTQ+ students at private religious colleges and carefully considers the stakes of all major actors: the religious institution’s interest in maintaining the pure religious character of its student body and minority students’ interest in expressing themselves fully while still attending the college in question. The author conducts analysis through a framework of “institutional religious freedom,” focusing mainly on sexual codes of conduct, voluntary association, and third-party burdens. This Note adopts a similar perspective, due to my similar personal upbringing, but shifts the analytical angle from the religious freedom owed to institutional actors to the civil rights owed to minority students.

I.  BACKGROUND

A.  Government Funding and Tax-Exempt Status for Private Religious Colleges

Public institutions have historically provided the setting for legal challenges to laws that involve education; colleges like the University of Michigan and University of Texas have famously been involved in litigation over segregation and affirmative action because of their receipt of significant funds from state and federal sources. There is a bit more uncertainty surrounding the applicability of such laws to private institutions. Although private religious colleges may not be fully state sponsored like public institutions, almost none of them operate entirely independently from the government. Federal funds are given to private religious colleges through a variety of means, including loans and grants for construction and renovation of campus facilities;17Tilton v. Richardson, 403 U.S. 672, 672 (1971). noncategorical state “capitation grants”18Roemer v. Bd. of Pub. Works of Md., 426 U.S. 736, 736 (1976).; Medicare reimbursements for campus medical centers; National Institute of Health (“NIH”) grants for science departments; and Health Resources and Services Administration grants to medical, dental, or nursing programs.19Office for Civil Rights, Title IX of the Education Amendments of 1972, Dep’t of Health & Hum. Servs., https://www.hhs.gov/civil-rights/for-individuals/sex-discrimination/title-ix-education-amendments/index.html [https://perma.cc/LDD6-BJM7]. Federal student loans, tuition tax credits, and federal Pell Grants allow colleges to be able to raise tuition rates without lowering enrollment.20Richard Vedder, There Are Really Almost No Truly Private Universities, Forbes (Apr. 8, 2018, 8:00 AM), https://www.forbes.com/sites/richardvedder/2018/04/08/there-are-really-almost-no-truly-private-universities [https://perma.cc/7AMF-U6A2]. Beyond direct grants and loans, private religious colleges also receive a tremendous amount of assistance from the savings received through tax-exempt status.21Id. Furthermore, gifts to religious colleges are treated as charitable deductions for income-tax purposes, which incentivizes giving.22Id. Thus, the perception that private educational institutions are independent from the public sphere is a myth.

An oft-repeated argument about the private sector (including privately-owned businesses and private colleges and universities) is that it should be subject to fewer government restrictions and regulations because of its independence from the public sector. However, since the vast majority of private religious colleges accept millions of dollars of public funds each year, plaintiffs in the Hunter lawsuit argued that there are constitutional restrictions on how those funds may be used. Plaintiffs acknowledge that the receipt of public funds is permissible; “[h]owever, when the government provides public funds to private actors . . . the Constitution restrains the government from allowing such private actors to use those funds to harm disadvantaged people.”23First Amended Complaint at 3, Hunter v. U.S. Dep’t of Educ., No. 6:21-cv-00474-AA (D. Or. June 7, 2021). In light of this, it would be inconsistent to allow institutions that receive public funds or that benefit from tax-exempt status to discriminate against sexual and gender minority students.

This stance represents a logical extension of the U.S. Supreme Court’s 1983 opinion in Bob Jones University v. United States, in which the Court held that Bob Jones University (“BJU”), a private religious college, did not qualify as a tax-exempt organization under §501(c)(3) of the Internal Revenue Code because of its racially discriminatory policies.24Bob Jones Univ. v. United States, 461 U.S. 574, 586 (1983). In 1980, the IRS had issued a ruling providing that a private school with a racially discriminatory policy does not qualify as “charitable” within the common law concepts reflected in the Internal Revenue Code. The Court held that “an institution seeking tax-exempt status must serve a public purpose and not be contrary to established public policy.”25Id. at 575, 586. BJU continued to enforce its policy of denying admission to applicants who engaged in interracial marriage or applicants who were known to advocate for interracial marriage. In light of this discriminatory policy, the IRS revoked BJU’s tax-exempt status. The university was asked to pay a portion of federal unemployment taxes for a year, and then filed a refund action in federal District Court; the IRS filed a countersuit claiming millions of dollars in unpaid taxes.26Id. at 574.

The Court analyzed Internal Revenue Code (“IRC”) §501(c)(3)—the portion of the Internal Revenue Code that sets forth regulations that apply to charitable organizations—against the backdrop of the congressional purpose, which was to give preferential treatment to charities in exchange for the benefit that they provide to society, and their relationship with the public interest.27Id. at 585–92. The Court invoked the history of charitable tax-exempt status; the status was originally conceived as similar to charitable trusts, which could not “be illegal or violate established public policy.”28Id. at 591. In light of this purpose, the majority held that in order to qualify for tax-exempt status, an institution must “demonstrably serve and be in harmony with the public interest,” and that “[t]he institution’s purpose must not be so at odds with the common community conscience as to undermine any public benefit that might otherwise be conferred.”29Id. at 592. Indeed, any institution that engaged in racial discrimination was excluded from the category of those that confer a public benefit and could thus be excluded from the charitable category and stripped of the accompanying tax-exempt status. Therefore, the IRS’s action stripping BJU of its charitable tax-exempt status was a valid exercise of its congressionally-granted authority.

One portion of the Bob Jones University decision that is potentially relevant to the question before us is which level of scrutiny the court should apply. It is worth noting that this analysis should not be interpreted to mean which level of scrutiny should be applied when sex is involved—a question that would involve its own analysis of what is included in the definition of “sex discrimination.” Indeed, the Court did not craft its ruling in Bob Jones University based on whether race is a suspect classification that triggers the application of strict scrutiny. Rather, the question is how closely the Court should scrutinize government policies that implicate religious freedom. In Bob Jones University, the Court applied strict scrutiny to the potential burden that the IRS rule placed on religious freedom for the university. Thus, this means that the relevant balancing test that the Court would have to consider in judicial review of a new IRS rule would be whether there is an overriding interest in protecting the LGBTQ+ community from discrimination that outweighs the religious freedom of private religious universities. In engaging in this examination, the Court should come to the same conclusion as the similar question, from Bob Jones University, regarding racial discrimination.30It is worth noting that the potential application of the Bob Jones University case to discrimination by colleges and universities based on sexual orientation and gender identity has been considered by relevant actors to some extent. In fact, during the oral argument phase of Obergefell v. Hodges, Justice Alito invoked Bob Jones University, asking if the Court’s holding that a college was not entitled to tax-exempt status if it engaged in racial discrimination might be applied to a college’s opposition to same-sex marriage. Transcript of Oral Argument at 38, Obergefell v. Hodges, 576 U.S. 644 (2015) (No. 14-556). In response, General Verrilli responded that “it’s certainly going to be an issue . . . I don’t deny that.” Id.

The First Amendment provides a baseline level of protection for religious freedom, providing that the government “shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.”31U.S. Const. amend. I (emphasis added). The Court’s jurisprudence regarding the Free Exercise Clause has evolved over time, beginning with a compelling interest test and eventually departing from it in Employment Division v. Smith.32Whitney K. Novak, Cong. Rsch. Serv., IF11490, The Religious Freedom Restoration Act: A Primer (2020); Sherbert v. Verner, 374 U.S. 398, 403 (1963) (holding that if a government burden on religious free exercise is allowed to stand, “it must be either because . . . [it] represents no infringement by the State on [one’s] constitutional rights of free exercise, or because any incidental burden on the free exercise of [one’s] religion may be justified by a ‘compelling state interest in the regulation of a subject within the State’s constitutional power to regulate’ ”) (quoting NAACP v. Button, 371 U.S. 415, 438 (1963)); Emp. Div. v. Smith, 494 U.S. 872, 878–79 (1990) (departing from the Sherbert balancing test, claiming that the Court has “never held that an individual’s religious beliefs excuse him from compliance with an otherwise valid law prohibiting conduct that the State is free to regulate” and weaving a creative interpretation of the Court’s Free Exercise Clause jurisprudence to justify the departure). In Smith, the majority delivered a scathing criticism of the compelling interest test, claiming that its application would produce a “constitutional anomaly” and “a private right to ignore generally applicable laws.”33Smith, 494 U.S. at 886. Smith explicitly rejected the compelling interest test’s expansion of the First Amendment’s protection of religious liberty and asserted that the Free Exercise Clause

does not relieve an individual of the obligation to comply with a law that incidentally forbids (or requires) the performance of an act that his religious belief requires (or forbids) if the law is not specifically directed to religious practice and is otherwise constitutional as applied to those who engage in the specified act for nonreligious reasons.34Id. at 872.

It may surprise a modern audience to learn that Justice Antonin Scalia wrote the majority opinion in Smith, which places limits on religious freedom when it clashes with a compelling governmental interest.35Id. This surprising result cannot be attributed to a lack of vigor with which Antonin Scalia was willing to defend the rights of religious people in the United States—specifically Christians. Rather, scholars have speculated that the decision was because the case at hand involved Native Americans who were practitioners of indigenous religion, which the Court did not view in as sympathetic of a light as it may have viewed practitioners of Christianity. However, due to apprehension that this opinion may be applied to Christians in the future, the legislature responded with RFRA.

Congress reacted explosively to this inflammatory Supreme Court decision, fearful that it may lead to infringement on the free exercise of the religious beliefs of Christians. Shortly after Smith was decided, Congress passed the Religious Freedom Restoration Act (“RFRA”), which expanded the religious freedom protection granted by the First Amendment by legislatively establishing a compelling interest test (a test that had been explicitly rejected by the judicial branch). Under this new law, whenever the government imposes a burden on religious liberty, the courts are required to apply strict scrutiny in their analysis of the government’s justification.36Shruti Chaganti, Why the Religious Freedom Restoration Act Provides a Defense in Suits by Private Plaintiffs, 99 Va. L. Rev. 343, 343 (2013). RFRA prohibits the government from substantially burdening the free exercise of religion, “even if the burden results from a rule of general applicability,” unless the government is able to demonstrate that application of the burden (1) furthers a compelling governmental interest; and (2) does so by the least restrictive means.37Religious Freedom Restoration Act: Free Exercise of Religion Protected, 42 U.S.C. § 2000bb-1. Because of RFRA’s new permissive standard, the Court would be required to analyze any potential burden on the free exercise of religion by private religious institutions under strict scrutiny, using a compelling interest test. This law makes it more difficult to hold religious institutions responsible for engaging in discrimination against LGBTQ+ individuals because it provides such strong protections for religious groups against government intervention.

Government funding and tax-exempt status are one important piece of the puzzle when it comes to protecting LGBTQ+ individuals from experiencing discrimination at the hands of their private religious institutions. The other piece is Title IX, a historic legislative act drafted in the Civil Rights era to prevent discrimination in the realm of education, which applies certain standards to all educational institutions that are the recipients of government funding, including private religious schools. However, the efficacy of the Act is undermined by the blanket exemptions granted to religious organizations. The process for granting religious exemptions to Title IX should either be vastly reworked, or the exemptions should be done away with entirely. I will analyze these options and consider the legality and practicality of each option.

B.  Title IX and the Religious Exemption

Title IX provides that “[n]o person in the United States shall, on the basis of sex, be excluded from participation in, be denied the benefits of, or be subjected to discrimination under any education program or activity receiving Federal financial assistance.”38Title IX of the Education Amendments of 1972, 20 U.S.C. § 1681(a). In Cohen v. Brown University, the Court recognized Congress’s dual objectives in passing Title IX: (1) “to avoid the use of federal resources to support discriminatory practices;” and (2) “to provide individual citizens effective protection against those practices.”39Cohen v. Brown Univ., 101 F.3d 155, 165 (1st Cir. 1996) (quoting Cannon v. Univ. of Chicago, 441 U.S. 677 (1979)). Specifically, Title IX, also known as the Education Amendments of 1972, was intended to update Title VII of the Civil Rights Act, which had been passed in 1964. Title VII prohibits employment discrimination based on race, color, religion, sex, and national origin, but Title IX was intended to expand that prohibition against discrimination to the education system as well.40Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, 42 U.S.C. §§ 2000(e)–2000(e)(17). Without Title IX, the only aspect of the education system in which discrimination on the basis of sex would be prohibited is discrimination against employees of the school; Title VII left students largely unprotected.

Regulations that govern the implementation of Title IX are set forth in the Code of Federal Regulations (“CFR”), and the Office for Civil Rights (“OCR”)—a department within the U.S. Department of Education—has the legal authority to enforce Title IX.4134 C.F.R. § 106. The OCR performs invaluable work: investigating complaints, ensuring that institutions are complying with necessary regulations, and even providing technical assistance.42Valerie McMurtrie Bonnette, How Title IX Is Enforced Good Sports, Inc. (2012), http://titleixspecialists.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/09/How-Title-IX-is-Enforced.pdf [https://perma.cc/3EM6-A7YV]. One of the most important tools that the OCR wields is the right to conduct compliance reviews. This provides a significant incentive for schools to comply with its legal obligations because if it is found to violate Title IX, there can be harsh consequences—at least on paper. First, an institution is given the option to voluntarily remedy the violation. If it refuses to do so, OCR may: (1) initiate a termination of the institution’s federal funding, or (2) refer the case to the U.S. Department of Justice to pursue a case in court.43Id. However, these threats have proven hollow, as no university has yet had its federal funding revoked—a bold move that would send shockwaves through the higher education community in the United States. Separately from federal agency enforcement of Title IX through administrative channels, individuals have the authority to initiate proceedings against allegedly discriminatory institutions. An individual has the right to file a lawsuit in court alleging Title IX violations and to file a complaint with the OCR, but the former is not required to have standing for the latter.44Id. Courts may order specific remedies or may award monetary damages to victims of sex discrimination who file lawsuits. Given that the OCR’s threat of revocation of federal funding is a largely hollow threat, the “implied private right of action” of Title IX has “given Title IX its teeth” and serves as a crucial enforcement mechanism.45R. Shep Melnick, The Strange Evolution of Title IX, Nat’l Affs. (2018), https://www.nationalaffairs.com/publications/detail/the-strange-evolution-of-title-ix [https://perma.cc/L38R-TEGD].

Title VII contains a religious exemption section which restricts the protections afforded by the new piece of legislation. Section 2000e-1 states, “[t]his subchapter shall not apply to an employer with respect to the employment of aliens outside any State, or to a religious corporation, association, educational institution, or society with respect to the employment of individuals of a particular religion to perform work connected with the carrying on by such . . . .”46Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, 42 U.S.C. § 2000(e)-1(a). Thus, when Congress recognized that the protections of Title VII were exclusively restricted to the employment sector and set out to expand it to the education sector, Congress inserted a similar section exempting religious organizations from Title IX as well. Despite Title IX’s illusion of broad protection against discrimination, § 106.12 goes on to exempt educational institutions that are controlled by religious organizations, declaring that the act “does not apply to an educational institution which is controlled by a religious organization to the extent application of this part would not be consistent with the religious tenets of such organization.”4734 C.F.R. § 106.12(a). In the cases of both Title VII and Title IX, the religious exemption sections were crafted as a part of a political compromise with the religious right to pass the legislation.48Kif Augustine-Adams, What Is the Religious Exemption to Title IX and What’s at Stake
in LGBTQ Students’ Legal Challenge, The Conversation (June 22, 2021, 2:59
PM), https://theconversation.com/what-is-the-religious-exemption-to-title-ix-and-whats-at-stake-in-lgbtq-students-legal-challenge-161079 [https://perma.cc/5L2W-QR7G].

For most of the history of Title IX, very few institutions sought religious-based exemptions. However, in 2013, there was a sudden increase in the number of official claims of religious exemption. In fact, between 2013–2021, more than 120 religious institutions claimed exemption from Title IX.49Id. This development can largely be traced back to evangelical fears about the Obama administration—anticipation of a crackdown on religious freedom. Though it was not to the extent that the American evangelical community expected, the Obama administration did seek to expand the protections of Title IX. On October 26, 2010, the executive branch issued guidance to schools to include LGBTQ+ individuals under Title IX protections. The letter defined gender-based harassment under Title IX in a new way, labeling it sex discrimination “if students are harassed . . . for failing to conform to stereotypical notions of masculinity and femininity.”50Letter from Russlynn Ali, U.S. Dep’t of Educ., to Colleague (Oct. 26, 2010), https://www2.ed.gov/about/offices/list/ocr/letters/colleague-201010.pdf [https://perma.cc/2JY7-93JW]. The letter goes on to explicitly state that “Title IX does protect all students, including lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) students, from sex discrimination.”51Id.

The Code of Federal Regulations lays out a very basic framework for how exemptions are to be granted. C.F.R. § 106.12, governing Educational Institutions Controlled by Religious Organization, suggests that no formal process must be followed in order to secure a religious exemption to Title IX..”5234 C.F.R. § 106.12(a). The further relevant procedures provided by the Code do not serve to confer exemption on the institutions, but only to reassure the institutions that they are eligible for those exemptions. Indeed, even without such advance assurance of religious exemption, if the Department of Education notifies an institution that it is under investigation for non-compliance with Title IX, the institution may choose to raise its exemption at that time. To do so, the institution shall submit a letter to the Department of Education’s Assistant Secretary, “identifying the provisions of this part which conflict with a specific tenet of the religious organization”—regardless of whether or not the institution already sought assurance before the fact.53Id. § 106.12(b). An institution may write to the Department of Education’s Assistant Secretary to seek assurance of their religious exemption. However, “[a]n institution is not required to seek assurance from the Assistant Secretary in order to assert such an exemption.”5434 C.F.R. § 106.12(b). Consistent with this interpretation of the automatic triggering of this exemption, in 1976, President Oaks of Brigham Young University wrote a letter to the Department of Education that he clarified was notifying the Department of BYU’s exemption from Title IX (rather than requesting exemption). President Oaks specifically noted that BYU “did not concede that the Department of Health, Education and Welfare has the power to review our claim of exemption on the ground of religion.”55Letter from Martin H. Gerry, Dir., Off. for C.R., U.S. Dep’t of Educ., to Dallin H. Oaks, President Brigham Young Univ. (Aug. 12, 1976); Elise S. Faust, Who Decides? The Title IX Religious Exemption and Administrative Authority, 2017 BYU L. Rev. 1197, 1210 (2017). Thus, there is a long history—stretching back almost as far as the origin of the exemption itself—of the automatic triggering mechanism of the religious exemption to Title IX.

Once exemptions started being requested, the Department of Education started approving requests—seemingly indiscriminately: “In the nearly 50 years since the enactment of Title IX, the Office for Civil Rights has never denied a claim to religious exemption. As a result, religious educational institutions decide for themselves whether and to what degree they are exempt from Title IX.”56Augustine-Adams, supra note 48. In 2014, the Department of Education—under the Obama administration—issued guidelines making it clear that transgender students are also protected under Title IX. This guidance, paired with the growing contemporary evangelical panic surrounding transgender people, seems to have drastically increased the number of schools seeking exemptions from Title IX. In response to this avalanche of requested (or declared) exemptions, a number of Democratic Senators asked the Department of Education to publish a list, for the first time, of the colleges that specifically request waivers. In the letter, the Senators cited taxpayers’ “right to know when institutions of higher education—as recipients of tax dollars—seek and receive exemptions under Title IX.”57Press Release, Senator Ron Wyden, 7 Senators Call for Transparency for LGBT Students at Schools Seeking Religious Exemptions (Dec. 18, 2015), https://www.wyden.senate.gov/news/press-releases/wyden-7-senators-call-for-transparency-for-lgbt-students-at-schools-seeking-religious-exemptions [https://perma.cc/53K8-RDT5]. The Department of Education released the requested list, revealing that at the time 248 schools had been granted exemption to Title IX. Under the Trump administration, new regulations reversed the policy of transparency. However, under the Biden administration, the policy was again reversed; today, an official list is once again maintained by the Department of Education’s Officer for Civil Rights, along with a copy of the office’s response to each request.58Other Correspondence, U.S. Dep’t of Educ., Off. for C.R., https://www2.ed.gov/about/offices/list/ocr/correspondence/other.html [https://perma.cc/PL2J-TCEG].

Title IX’s private enforcement mechanism was put to use on March 9, 2020, when an individual filed a complaint with the OCR, alleging that Brigham Young University (“BYU”) discriminates against students on the basis of sex. BYU is a private university with enrollment of almost 35,000 students, and is affiliated with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.59Facts & Figures, Brigham Young Univ., https://www.byu.edu/facts-figures [https://perma.cc/XU5J-CWL5]. The university is known for its strict honor code, which until recently included a section explicitly titled “Homosexual Behavior” that banned students from “all forms of physical intimacy” with a member of the same sex.60Courtney Tanner, BYU Students Celebrate as School Removes ‘Homosexual Behavior’ Section from its Online Honor Code, Salt Lake Trib. (Feb. 19, 2020, 8:08 PM), https://www.
sltrib.com/news/education/2020/02/19/byu-appears-remove [https://perma.cc/W5UW-B596].
That section was removed in early 2020, inspiring a number of members of the campus community to publicly come out as LGBTQ-identifying. However, the elation sparked by this move was short-lived; shortly after, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints clarified that same-sex romantic behavior remains incompatible with official school rules. In a public letter, Church Educational System Commissioner Elder Paul V. Johnson clarified that “[t]he moral standards of the Church did not change with the recent release of the General Handbook or the updated Honor Code. . . . Same-sex romantic behavior cannot lead to eternal marriage and is therefore not compatible with the principles included in the Honor Code.”61@BYU, X (Mar. 4, 2020, 10:14 AM), https://twitter.com/BYU/status/1235267296970473472/photo/1 [https://perma.cc/8DS8-VWVP]. This announcement was met with protest, as many students felt like they were experiencing whiplash with regard to the Honor Code—and even felt trapped if they came out while believing themselves to be in a newly-safe environment.62Courtney Tanner, Erin Alberty & Peggy Fletcher Stack, After BYU Honor Code Change, LDS Church Now Says Same-sex Relationships Are ‘Not Compatible’ with the Faith’s Rules, Salt Lake Trib. (May 27, 2022, 11:36 AM), https://www.sltrib.com/news/education/2020/03/04/after-byu-honor-code [https://perma.cc/99H4-HXRA]. It was in the wake of this policy reversal that an unnamed individual filed a complaint with the OCR, alleging that BYU was engaging in discriminatory behavior.

In response to the complaint, the OCR launched a rare investigation into the private religious university. The complaint specifically alleged that BYU “engages in the different treatment of students who are involved in same-sex romantic relationships by stating that such relationships are not compatible with the principles of the University’s Honor Code.”63Letter from Sandra Roesti, Supervisory Att’y, U.S. Dep’t of Educ., Off. for C.R., to Kevin J. Worthen, President, Brigham Young Univ. (Feb. 8, 2022), https://news.byu.edu/0000017e-e090-ddc8-a77f-f8b78c8c0001/final-signed-ocr-decision [https://perma.cc/33MT-PSGM]. In a letter dated October 21, 2021, the OCR notified BYU that it was opening an investigation into the individual’s complaint. BYU responded on November 19, 2021 by requesting assurance from the U.S. Department of Education that the university is exempt from Title IX and its accompanying implementing regulations.64Id. On January 3, 2022, the Department responded by assuring BYU of its exemption from a number of specific regulations under Title IX “to the extent that application of those provisions would conflict with the religious tenets of the University’s controlling religious organization”—including regulations involving admission, recruitment, housing, counseling, financial assistance, athletics, and comparable facilities.65Id. Thus, in a letter dated February 8, 2022, the OCR concluded that it lacked jurisdiction to address the individual complainant’s allegations. Although it was rare for the OCR to go through the motions of initiating a Title IX investigation into any private religious college for alleged discrimination against LGBTQ+ students, the investigation was ultimately halted prematurely because the religious exemption to Title IX blocked the OCR from exercising jurisdiction over the complaint. If the complaint had been filed against any other educational institution—a public university, or even a private one without a religious affiliation—the OCR would have initiated a fact-finding mission and published the results. This exposes the university to significant liability and serves as a deterrent to the implementation of discriminatory policies that violate Title IX.

Again, the text of the religious exemption to Title IX reads as follows: “[Title IX] does not apply to an educational institution which is controlled by a religious organization to the extent application of this part would not be consistent with the religious tenets of such organization.”6634 C.F.R. § 106.12(a) (explaining exceptions for educational institutions controlled by religious organizations). Thus, there are two parts to the religious exemption to Title IX that should be examined separately: (1) Title IX does not apply to an institution “controlled by a religious organization” (with “control” defined very broadly), and (2) institutions are exempt only to the degree that their “religious tenets” conflict with Title IX. Below, I will elaborate on both elements.

1.  “Controlled by a Religious Organization”

Title IX does not apply to an educational institution “controlled by a religious organization.” There are six different ways that an educational institution may establish that it is controlled by a religious institution: (1) it is a school or department of divinity; (2) it requires faculty, students, or employees to be members of or espouse personal belief in the religion of the controlling organization; (3) it contains an explicit statement that it is controlled be a religious organization in its charter, the members of its governing body are appointed by the controlling organization, and it receives a significant amount of financial support from the controlling organization; (4) it has a doctrinal statement along with a statement that members of the institutional community must engage in the religious practices of or espouse a personal belief in the statement; (5) it has a published institutional mission that is approved by the governing body of the controlling organization and is predicated on religious tenets; or (6) other sufficient evidence as laid out in 20 U.S.C. § 1681(a)(3).67Id. This inclusive qualifying language is problematic; with “control” defined so broadly, potentially up to 1,000 colleges are encompassed by the words “controlled by a religious organization.”

2.  Conflict Between “Religious Tenets” and Title IX

There is an age-old debate in American legal jurisprudence about how to determine whether an action—or inaction—is actually motivated by “religious belief.” This question is especially difficult in the context of an organization, not just an individual. If construed too broadly, there is a risk that a religious organization might simply do anything or discriminate against anyone on any basis and then fall back on a loose claim that the action was based on religious belief. Therefore, it is important to know where the line is drawn. The A.S. Singleton memo, written by the Assistant Secretary for Civil Rights at the U.S. Department of Education in 1985, instructs that religious exemption claims be consistent with the requirements of the First Amendment and the Religious Freedom Restoration Act.68Memorandum from Marry M. Singleton, Assistant Sec’y for C. R., U.S. Dep’t of Educ. (Feb. 19, 1985), https://www2.ed.gov/about/offices/list/ocr/docs/singleton-memo-19850219.pdf [https://perma.cc/RV86-2SRB]. The Office for Civil Rights purports to follow a special procedure to determine whether a provision of Title IX conflicts with religious tenets, requiring that schools submit a statement reflecting either their religious tenets or religious practices.69Exemptions from Title IX, U.S. Dep’t of Educ., Off. for C.R. (Mar. 8, 2021), https://www2.ed.gov/about/offices/list/ocr/docs/t9-rel-exempt/index.html [https://perma.cc/E3DY-29UK]. “A school claiming an exemption may refer to scripture, doctrinal statements, catalogs, statements of faith, or other documents.”70Id.

When administration officials from educational institutions write to the Department of Education to formally request a religious exemption from Title IX, the Civil Rights Office writes—and publicly publishes—a response letter. In each letter, they note that the requested exemptions must be based on actual religious tenets, and if the “governing organization” does not agree that those are actual religious tenets, the exemptions may not be valid.71Letter from Sandra Roesti, supra note 63. This response to BYU’s request for an exemption lists several reasons that BYU argued it should be considered to be controlled by the religious tenets of its controlling organization. (1) “BYU is a religious institution of higher education ‘founded, supported, and guided by’ the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Church of Jesus Christ)”; (2) “BYU is ‘controlled by’ the Church of Jesus Christ, whose governing leaders appoint prophets, apostles, general authorities, and offices of the Church of Jesus Christ as members of BYU’s Board of Trustees”; (3) “[a]ll BYU students, faculty, administrators, and staff agree to the Church Educational System Honor Code and thereby ‘voluntarily commit to conduct their lives in accordance with the principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ’ ”; (4) “same-sex romantic behavior cannot lead to eternal marriage and is therefore not consistent with the principles included in the Honor Code”; and (5) “any obligation that would require [BYU] to ‘allow same-sex romantic behavior’ or ‘contradict doctrine of the Church of Jesus Christ regarding the distinction between men and women, the eternal nature of gender, or God’s laws of chastity and marriage’ would violate the religious tenets of the Church of Jesus Christ.” Letter from Catherine E. Lhamon, Assistant Sec’y for C.R., U.S. Dep’t of Educ., Off. For C.R., to Kevin J. Worthen, President, Brigham Young Univ. (Jan. 3, 2022), https://news.byu.edu/0000017e-e0cc-d5b2-abfe-eadc2e240001/2022-01-03-letter-from-catherine-lhamon-to-kevin-worthen-re-byu-religious-exemption-pdf [https://perma.cc/9JPG-MDXK]. For these reasons, BYU’s requested religious exemption is considered to be based on its closely-held religious tenets. This same format is followed in all other response letters published by the OCR. This creates the impression that religious exemptions to Title IX must be claimed on the basis of legitimate religious beliefs; however, the reality is that the Court is unwilling to scrutinize such organizational claims. Generally, the Court has thus far shied away from articulating a bright line test for what constitutes a religious belief, seemingly out of fear of being under-inclusive and resulting in the legal condemnation of “religiously-motivated” activities that the Court wishes to protect. This hesitation has had an unfortunate impact on the amount of scrutiny applied to explanations for why religious educational institutions seek to be exempt from Title IX.

II.  ARGUMENT AND ANALYSIS

In the following section, I will consider two main aspects of the issue of the constitutionality of discrimination by private religious institutions against LGBTQ+ students: the question of the tax-exempt status of those institutions and the question of those institutions’ religious exemptions to Title IX.

Race permeated the Bob Jones University case so thoroughly that scholars have struggled to extract any universal principles from it that are separate from race.72In 1970, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that the IRS shall not grant tax-exempt status to organizations that discriminate on the basis of race in Green v. Kennedy. At the time, the number of private religious secondary schools was skyrocketing in the wake of the desegregation efforts tied to Brown v. Board of Education. Private religious schools—mostly Christian by affiliation—were cropping up as an alternative for white parents who did not want to send their children to newly segregated schools. It was in this environment that increased scrutiny was placed on private religious schools and their charitable status—specifically, whether discriminatory policies precluded such schools from receiving funding or tax exemption from the government. John B. Parker, Paving a Path Between the Campus and the Chapel: A Revised Section 501(c)(3) Standard for Determining Tax Exemptions, 69 Emory L. J. 321, 336 (2019). For one thing, the details of the circumstances surrounding the case involve overt racial discrimination: BJU maintained a policy forbidding interracial dating, a regulation that succeeded an outright ban on African-American students enrolling in the university as a seeming-concession to changing cultural attitudes toward racism.73“The sponsors of the University genuinely believe that the Bible forbids interracial dating and marriage. To effectuate these views, Negroes were completely excluded until 1971. From 1971 to May 1975, the University accepted no applications from unmarried Negroes, but did accept applications from Negroes married within their race. . . . Since May 29, 1975, the University has permitted unmarried Negroes to enroll; but a disciplinary rule prohibits interracial dating and marriage.” Bob Jones Univ. v. United States, 461 U.S. 574, 580 (1983). The language of the majority opinion makes it hard to ignore the racial elements that motivated the Court’s decision—especially with an eye to the historical effects of the systematic exclusion of African Americans from the educational system in the United States. However, I propose that the Court’s holding in this case is consistent with an extension to include other protected groups of people (specifically, members of the LGBTQ+ community). The most effective way to implement such an extension of legal protection is through the Court granting certiorari for a new case that presents a ripe opportunity and then issuing a holding that clarifies the extent of the application of Bob Jones University. An appropriate case should follow an IRS action, much like the IRS action taken against BJU; absent those circumstances, a lawsuit like the one REAP filed in 2021 is unlikely to be effective. In Bob Jones University, the Court held that as an official extension of Congress’s authority, “the IRS has the responsibility, in the first instance, to determine whether a particular entity is ‘charitable’ for purposes of § 170 and § 501(c)(3). This in turn may necessitate later determinations of whether given activities so violate public policy that the entities involved cannot be deemed to provide a public benefit worthy of ‘charitable’ status.”74Id. at 597–98. It is the duty of the IRS in this instance to recognize the injustice of discriminatory anti-LGBTQ+ policies at educational institutions. The Court noted that these determinations should be made “only where there is no doubt that the organization’s activities violate fundamental public policy.”75Id. at 598. Here, this is obviously the case, exemplified by Executive Orders and legislation forbidding discrimination against LGBTQ+ individuals and U.S. Supreme Court decisions like Obergefell and Bostock.76In Bob Jones University, the petitioner even brought forth a similar argument to that raised in Obergefell. In the former case, BJU maintained that it was not racially discriminatory because it “allows all races to enroll, subject only to its restrictions on the conduct of all students, including its prohibitions of association between men and women of different races, and of interracial marriage.” Id. at 605. Essentially, it maintained that the ban on interracial dating and marriage applies equally to those of all races, so therefore it is not racially discriminatory. Id. In Obergefell, a similar argument was raised—that bans on same-sex marriage did not discriminate against LGBTQ+ individuals because people of all genders were equally banned from marrying someone of the same sex and the ban did not just apply to gay people. Obergefell v. Hodges, 576 U.S. 644 (2015).

Even assuming that such protections are put into place, might these institutions be allowed to side-step any attempted regulation by opting out of receiving federal funds entirely and agreeing to pay federal taxes? A small number of private Christian colleges in the United States have attempted to opt out of federal funds entirely. Hillsdale College, a private Christian college in Michigan, refuses to accept any federal funds, remaining independent on principle.77“As a matter of principle, Hillsdale doesn’t accept any federal or state subsidy to fund its operations, not even indirectly in the form of federal student aid. . . . Our independence allows us to maintain the integrity of our classical liberal arts curriculum, and to remain true to our founding mission.” Scholarships & Financial Aid, Hillsdale Coll., https://www.hillsdale.edu/admissions-aid/financial-aid [https://perma.cc/LV43-VK9G]. Would Hillsdale College or another similar institution thus be allowed to discriminate against their LGBTQ+ students? One of the main arguments of this Note has been that acceptance of federal funding and tax-exempt status creates a legal responsibility for educational institutions to abide by generally-applicable laws, including civil rights laws. But is the inverse true? Does independence from taxpayer dollars immunize an institution from punishment for refusing to follow federal rules? This question forces us to turn to the second major issue of this Note: Title IX.

The complaint filed by REAP in Hunter v. Department of Education suggests that religious exemptions to Title IX are blanketly unconstitutional. However, this stance is unlikely to be adopted in the current political climate, in which religious freedom is highly prized and anti-LGBTQ+ discrimination is not at the forefront of most Americans’ minds. I predict that the Court will be unwilling to find that religious exemptions to Title IX are blanketly unconstitutional and the next step is to challenge the legality of the process by which such exemptions are granted. Automatic exemptions should be presumptively suspect. A better process would be for colleges to be required to request exemptions and have them formally approved. This would place the right to consider the reasoning behind the exemption requests and their validity in the hands of the executive branch—the Department of Justice. Though it is important to consider the applicability of Title IX to institutions that opt out of the public sphere, we must keep in mind the likelihood of many colleges adopting this approach. Even though a small handful of institutions have been able to stay afloat without federal funds—albeit for a short period of time—federal funds still constitute the lifeblood of most educational institutions in the United States. I find it unlikely that this “independence” movement will catch on past the small ranks that it claims today.

As I briefly mentioned above, before any legal action may be taken to protect the vulnerable LGBTQ+ population at educational institutions that are abusing the tax-exempt status they enjoy as charitable organizations, the source that holds the authority to take action must be identified. The Court considered this question in Bob Jones University. Given that Congress is the source of IRS authority, it has the discretion to modify IRS rulings. However, in the “first instance,” the IRS is responsible for construing the IRC, which courts then exercise review over. “Since Congress cannot be expected to anticipate every conceivable problem that can arise or to carry out day-to-day oversight, it relies on the administrators and on the courts to implement the legislative will.”78Bob Jones Univ., 461 U.S. at 597. This proper order of operations is demonstrated in the successful alteration of rules that govern tax-exempt status in the Bob Jones University case. It was the IRS that first acted, modifying the IRC to exclude organizations that discriminate on the basis of race from the definition of “charitable.” This is why I argue that it would be most practical and effective for legal action to start with the IRS and proceed from there with an inevitable challenge before the judicial branch.

The current iteration of the U.S. Supreme Court, the Roberts Court, has skewed dramatically toward religious organizations and the free exercise of religious beliefs. According to a 2022 New York Times article, the Roberts Court “has ruled in favor of religious organizations in orally argued cases 83 percent of the time”—which is far more than any other recent Court.79Ian Prasad Philbrick, A Pro-Religion Court, N.Y. Times (June 22, 2022), https://www.nytimes.com/2022/06/22/briefing/supreme-court-religion.html [https://perma.cc/GN3M-5G2G]. This trend is especially pronounced when the religious organization in question is Christian, as there is a substantial Christian majority currently sitting on the Court, both Catholic and Protestant. Beyond the Court’s favoring of religion, the U.S. Congress is also very reluctant to take any steps to limit religious freedom or take away power from religious organizations (like powerful private religious educational institutions). Thus, even if the Court were willing to uphold a law seeking to hold private religious educational institutions accountable for discrimination, such a law would likely not even make it through both chambers of Congress in the first place. With regard to religious exemptions to Title IX, the same political forces are likely relevant here, creating another practical roadblock. One potential way that this roadblock may be overcome is a change in the social and political climate in the United States. This was crucial to how the Bob Jones University case ended up with the outcome that it did—the Court was motivated by the confidence that a majority of the American public despised racial discrimination and would support eradicating it from the educational system to whatever extent possible. Though BJU maintained its racially discriminatory policies, it was very much in the minority among its peer institutions. The legality of anti-miscegenation laws was put to the test in 1967, when the Court struck down a Virginia state law that banned interracial marriage.80Loving v. Virginia, 388 U.S. 1 (1967). BJU maintained policies forbidding interracial marriage almost two decades later. The public opinion had reached a tipping point such that religious freedom was not accepted as an excuse for overt racial discrimination and a ban on interracial marriage was much less widely accepted by that time. However, I believe that today, the United States has yet to reach this tipping point regarding religious freedom and LGBTQ+ discrimination.

This unwillingness to protect vulnerable LGBTQ+ individuals from religiously-motivated discrimination is exemplified by some of the Court’s decisions over the past five years. In 2017, the U.S. Supreme Court heard a case called Masterpiece Cakeshop v. Colorado Civil Rights Commission, in which the owner of a cake shop refused to make a wedding cake for a same-sex couple. The Court invalidated a ruling by the Colorado Civil Rights Commission that the cake shop had violated the civil rights of the same-sex couple; here, the Court clearly stood on the side of religious liberty and free exercise over the protection of civil rights.81Mark Satta, Masterpiece Cakeshop: A Hostile Interpretation of the Colorado Civil Rights Commission, Harv. C.R.—C.L. L. Rev. 1 (Apr. 12, 2019), https://journals.law.harvard.edu/crcl/masterpiece-cakeshop-a-hostile-interpretation-of-the-colorado-civil-rights-commission [https://perma.cc/HDP7-SD3N]. In 2021, the Court heard a case called Kennedy v. Bremerton School District, holding that a public school football coach was not prevented by the First Amendment from praying on the field with his players in what the court called “a personal religious observance.”82Kennedy v. Bremerton Sch. Dist., 597 U.S. 1, 31 (2022). Here, the Court continued to plow forward in carving out new rights to the free exercise of religious belief, which it had previously not recognized. In 2022, the Court heard 303 Creative v. Elenis, in which an individual Christian business owner challenged a Colorado law that banned businesses from discriminating against LGBTQ+ customers. During oral arguments, Justice Alito drew a distinction between discrimination on the basis of race and on the basis of sexual orientation, which would be consistent with a position that seeks to distinguish the Bob Jones University precedent from the Hunter v. Department of Education case.83Amy Howe, Conservative Justices Seem Poised to Side with Web Designer Who Opposes Same-Sex Marriage, SCOTUS Blog (Dec. 5, 2022, 7:18 PM), https://www.scotusblog.com/2022/12/conservative-justices-seem-poised-to-side-with-web-designer-who-opposes-same-sex-marriage [https://perma.cc/6CH7-BGNC]. The Court decided this case in June 2023, siding with the religious web designer and continuing its jurisprudential campaign toward expanding religious freedom at the expense of civil rights. These recent cases are among a series of examples of the Court demonstrating a strong preference for religion over other concerns—civil rights laws, anti-discrimination laws, etc.84Adam Liptak, An Extraordinary Winning Streak for Religion at the Supreme Court, N.Y. Times (Apr. 5, 2021), https://www.nytimes.com/2021/04/05/us/politics/supreme-court-religion.html [https://perma.cc/LQ2L-T2LC].

One of the reasons that I advocate for either the revocation of tax-exempt status from private religious institutions that discriminate against LGBTQ+ students or the enforcement of Title IX (over claimed “religious exemptions” by those institutions) is that tax-exempt status and government funding should be considered a privilege, not an automatic and irrevocable guarantee. Clearly, charitable tax-exempt status was originally intended to protect the money collected by charities from being reduced through government taxation, thereby increasing the amount of good that a not-for-profit organization may do with it. However, in the modern era, tax-exempt 501(c)(3) status organizations have grown to incredible sizes, with private religious institutions reporting endowments topping $1 billion.85In 2018, Liberty University’s endowment was reportedly $1.5 billion, and it is affiliated with the Southern Baptist Convention. At the same time, Brigham Young University’s endowment was reportedly $1.98 billion, and it is affiliated with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. University of Notre Dame’s endowment was reportedly $11.1 billion, and it is affiliated with the Roman Catholic Church. Digest of Education Statistics, Endowment Funds of the 120 Degree-Granting Postsecondary Institutions with the Largest Endowments, by Rank Order: Fiscal Year 2018, Nat’l. Ctr. for Educ. Stats., https://nces.ed.gov/programs/digest/d19/tables/dt19_333.90.asp [https://perma.cc/6HAG-J5GJ]. These institutions are able to avoid enormous tax bills through the privilege of tax-exempt status, which is now practically automatic—especially when you combine the status as an educational institution with the almost-untouchable status as a religious institution. Free exercise absolutists in the United States have begun to argue that religious organizations should be completely free from any scrutiny by the government, lest the government be considered to be interfering in religious affairs that it ought not be involving itself in. However, there is a difference between restricting free exercise (through banning a practice or criminally punishing those who engage in a practice) and simply withholding a privilege from those who have proven themselves unworthy of receiving American citizens’ hard-earned tax dollars. The Court made this clear in its holding in the Bob Jones University case, in which a religious institution was stripped of the privilege of tax-exempt status because of its refusal to obey universally applicable civil rights anti-discrimination laws. The Court did not force BJU to integrate or to change its policies on interracial marriage, actions which would be more constitutionally suspect as infringing on the university’s religious freedom. Indeed, the Court did not approve the use of a “stick” as a punishment; rather the Court approved the use of a “carrot” as an incentive. The solution advocated for in this Note is of the same fundamental nature, and thus should pass constitutional muster for the same reasons. Any view that would characterize the Court’s holding as infringing on BJU’s freedom to exercise its religious beliefs is unnecessarily absolutist in nature and sets a far different trajectory for First Amendment jurisprudence than I believe was intended or is practical. The First Amendment to the Constitution is deservedly revered for its guarantee that the free exercise of religion may be protected from government interference, harassment, or persecution; however, it should be correctly interpreted as conferring a negative right (the right to be free from persecution) rather than a positive right (the right to guaranteed access to tax dollars and exemption from taxation).

I have mentioned more than once the practical difficulties of enforcing Title IX over claimed religious exemptions, even of conducting any investigation at all into allegations of misconduct. There are also practical difficulties involved in the revocation of the tax-exempt status of private religious universities that are often wealthy, powerful, and politically well-connected.86According to a 2015 letter from IRS Commissioner John Koskinen, it is currently the official position of the IRS that Obergefell does not extend civil rights protections implied by Bob Jones University to the LGBTQ+ community. The letter states, “[t]he IRS does not view Obergefell as having changed the law applicable to section 501(c)(3) determinations or examinations. Therefore, the IRS will not, because of this decision, change existing standards in reviewing applications for recognition of exemption under section 501(c)(3) or in examining the qualification of section 501(c)(3) organizations.” Letter from John A. Koskinen, Dep’t. of the Treasury, Internal Revenue Serv., to E. Scott Pruitt, Okla. Att’y Gen. (July 30, 2015), http://mediad.publicbroadcasting.net/p/kgou/files/201508/irs_response_letter_obergefell.pdf [https://perma.cc/6BHF-R57Z]. Thus, I will briefly address a few solutions beyond what I have proposed as the ideal. For one thing, the recent decision in Bostock may have implications on how sex discrimination is interpreted by both the executive and judicial branches. If the executive branch adopts a definition of sex discrimination that is consistent with the Court’s definition in Bostock—especially if this is paired with public opinion that tilts the scales in favor of civil rights protections for LGBTQ+ people over absolute unchecked rights for religious organizations—this may pave the way for expanded protections. In March 2021, the Civil Rights Division of the U.S. Department of Justice issued a memo explaining the application of the decision in Bostock v. Clayton County to Title IX.87Memorandum from Principal Deputy Assistant Att’y Gen. Pamela S. Karlan, U.S. Dep’t of Just., C.R. Div., to Fed. Agency C.R. Dirs. and Gen. Couns., (Mar. 26, 2021), https://www.justice.gov/crt/page/file/1383026/download [https://perma.cc/S9FQ-X6X7]. The memo references an executive order issued by the Biden administration—Executive Order 13988—that pairs well with the holding in Bostock, holding that “[a]ll persons should receive equal treatment under the law, no matter their gender identity or sexual orientation.”88Exec. Order No.13,988, 86 Fed. Reg. 7023 (Jan. 25, 2021). The memo indicates that the Civil Rights Division has determined that “the best reading of Title IX’s prohibition on discrimination ‘on the basis of sex’ is that it includes discrimination on the basis of gender identity and sexual orientation.”89Memorandum from Principal Deputy Assistant Att’y Gen. Pamela S. Karlan, supra note 87. On its face, this seems to be a significant civil rights victory for the LGBTQ+ community, ensuring that Title IX includes robust protections for individuals in that community. However, one blatant roadblock stands in the way from this having made much of a measurable impact yet: the religious exemption to Title IX. This is a welcome policy interpretation overall—protecting students at a great number of colleges throughout the United States that are not religiously affiliated; however, given that the religious exemption is so robust and the process so lacking in oversight, even the aforementioned change in how Title IX is interpreted does not protect minority students at private religious institutions, where students are most likely to encounter discriminatory treatment.

Another potential respite for LGBTQ+ students at private religious institutions may be the Equality Act, which “prohibits discrimination based on sex, sexual orientation, and gender identity in areas including public accommodations and facilities [and] education.”90Equality Act, H.R. 5, 117th Cong. (2021), https://www.congress.gov/bill/117th-congress/house-bill/5 [https://perma.cc/K35F-95BJ]. It does so by expanding the definition of “public accommodations,” authorizing the Department of Justice to intervene in equal protection matters in federal court that relate to sexual orientation or gender identity, and amending the Civil Rights Act to include “sex, sexual orientation, and gender identity” in the prohibited categories of discrimination.91Id. Notably, the Act explicitly states that it trumps the Religious Freedom Restoration Act (“RFRA”), meaning that an individual or institution sued for discrimination under the Equality Act would be unable to rely on RFRA as a defense. As the bill currently stands, it may provide a cause of action for students; the Religious Education Accountability Project endorses it, stating that it “ensures strong protections for LGBTQ students attending religious colleges—ensuring that no institution is permitted to claim religious exemptions in order to discriminate against its LGBTQ students while still receiving taxpayer money.”92How Does REAP’s Work Relate to the Equality Act?, Religious Exemption Accountability Project (June 7, 2021), https://www.thereap.org/post/how-does-this-relate-to-the-equality-act [https://perma.cc/92NS-38DF]. The measure passed in the House of Representatives in February 2021, but has yet to be taken up in the Senate. It faces strong opposition from absolutist proponents of religious liberty, who have even proposed language be inserted into the Act that would explicitly carve out another religious exemption for religious colleges and universities.

Another possibility is private enforcement by large associations or organizations that these private religious institutions are members of and rely on. For example, the National Collegiate Athletic Association (“NCAA”) wields extensive power among colleges that want to participate in competitive athletics—as do the individual conferences that the schools belong to. The Pac-10, a major athletic conference that includes several universities on the west coast, has overlooked Brigham Young University, a private university affiliated with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, in a number of league expansions over the past few decades. Reportedly, this is because BYU is seen as “not a good cultural fit” for the conference.93Eddie Dzurilla, Brigham Young University Not Wanted in Pac-10 Due to Discrimination, Bleacher Rep. (May 28, 2010), https://bleacherreport.com/articles/398103-byu-is-not-wanted-in-the-pac-10-due-to-discrimination [https://perma.cc/NWZ6-9CH6]. Effective in 2023, BYU will be admitted to the Big 12 conference, a move that attracted harsh criticism from groups like Athlete Ally, which released a statement saying that “acceptance to an athletic conference is an honor and privilege, and . . . there should be standards of equality and inclusion that schools must meet to be included.”94Athlete Ally Responds to BYU Inclusion in Big 12, Athlete Ally (Oct. 1, 2021), https://www.athleteally.org/byu-inclusion-in-big-12 [https://perma.cc/4T9K-TKVX]. Pressure from the NCAA or athletic conferences to adopt non-discriminatory policies may be an attractive option, given that there would be much less possibility of a religious freedom claim when the action is taken by a private association rather than the government. The First Amendment provides protection from government intervention, not absolute protection for religious groups against any hardship.

Finally, I would like to consider the likelihood of success for the aforementioned potential avenues of protection for LGBTQ+ students at private religious institutions. It has been a somewhat encouraging development that the Department of Justice has demonstrated a recent willingness to initiate investigations into claims of civil rights violations against LGBTQ+ students. As I mentioned above, in 2021, the DOJ announced a somewhat unprecedented investigation into BYU. However, this enforcement mechanism may not have any teeth after all because the investigation was subsequently dropped when BYU asserted its religious exemption based on relevant religious tenets consistent with its affiliation with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.95U.S. Department of Education Dismisses Title IX Complaint Against BYU, BYU (Feb. 10, 2022), https://news.byu.edu/us-doe-dismisses-complaint [https://perma.cc/5BB6-D2M6]. It would surely be notable if the DOJ thoroughly investigated colleges for allegedly “over-extending” their exemptions, actually engaging in sufficient fact-finding and being willing to flex their enforcement muscles. It would be quite a development if these investigations were able to turn up anything substantial—and even more so if the Biden administration’s justice department categorically revoked the exemptions.

CONCLUSION

In this Note, I have considered the practicality and effectiveness of the argument that it is constitutionally impermissible to grant tax-exempt status and distribute any government funding to private educational institutions that engage in discrimination against LGBTQ+ students. I have concluded that the approach taken by the plaintiffs in Hunter v. Department of Education is unlikely to be successful. It is important to remain practical: a bright line rule consistent with this position would likely be impossible to implement, especially in the current political environment. The Hunter v. Department of Education lawsuit is still in the early stages of litigation; though it represents the best opportunity thus far presented in federal court, it is not a guaranteed win. Recently, a very unwelcome development spells trouble for the plaintiffs and the LGBTQ+ students they represent: the court ordered that the Department of Justice, over its objections and assurances that it would be able to effectively defend the suit itself, will be joined by intervening parties in the defense of the religious exemption to Title IX. Three Christian universities—Western Baptist University, William Jessup University, and Phoenix Seminary—along with the Council for Christian Colleges & Universities (“CCCU”) sought to intervene in the lawsuit. In the filing, CCCU adopts sweeping and broad language that the DOJ may be unlikely to adopt itself—that “the Title IX exemption is constitutionally required.”96Proposed Defendant-Intervenor CCCU’s Motion to Intervene and Memorandum in Support at 27, Hunter v. U.S. Dep’t of Educ., No. 6:21-cv-00474-AA (D. Or. filed May 12, 2021). On October 8, 2021, the court issued an order allowing this intervention and therefore opening up the suit to the much more hard-lined and sweeping rhetoric of the intervenors. There is some chance of victory—albeit small—for the plaintiffs at the lower court level. However, the chances of victory would wane even more if the case were to be elevated to the Supreme Court; I do not see a path to victory for the plaintiffs in front of the current conservative-supermajority Court.

It is noteworthy that the first time the scope of the religious exemption to Title IX was adjudicated, the court ruled against the civil rights of LGBTQ+ students—in favor of the free exercise rights of religious institutions. In Maxon v. Fuller Theological Seminary, plaintiffs brought a Title IX case against Fuller Theological Seminary because they were expelled for violating “school policies against same-sex marriage and extramarital sexual activity.”97Order Re: Motion to Dismiss at 1, Maxon v. Fuller Theological Seminary, No. 2:19-cv-09969-CBM- MRW (C.D. Cal. 2021). In November 2019, a motion to dismiss was granted in federal district court, as the court held that the religious exemption to Title IX was valid and applied in the case. Although this is a discouraging step, this was only a district court, and the Supreme Court has yet to issue a final authoritative word on the issue.

97 S. Cal. L. Rev. 737

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* J.D., University of Southern California Gould School of Law, 2024. B.A., Bowdoin College, 2019.

When Doctors Become Cops

The lines between law enforcement and health care are blurring. Police increasingly lean on doctors to provide them with genetic samples, prescription histories, and toxicology results that they could not obtain on their own. This often occurs without a warrant or the patient’s consent. At the same time, legislatures are using physicians as regulatory levers to police pregnant and transgender bodies. And due to chronic underfunding of social services, many Americans now receive pseudo-mental health treatment through the courts rather than clinics. Together, these things paint a sinister picture of law enforcement being thrust into medicine in ways that are deeply troubling and vastly underexplored.

In this Article, I reveal how the blurring of law enforcement and health care undermines core principles of medical ethics—such as privacy, accountability, efficacy, honesty, and autonomy—in the service of diametrically opposed prosecutorial goals. I walk through various examples of law enforcement’s co-option of medicine. These examples expose fundamental conflicts between the two professions that support keeping them far apart.

Scholars have done excellent work documenting the overpolicing of emergency rooms. This Article expands the analysis to a wider set of clinical domains and ratchets up the urgency by establishing police involvement in health care as a social determinant of health. When doctors become cops, this does violence to the physician-patient relationship and the (disappearing) trust on which it relies. This in turn causes demonstrable negative health outcomes. Not coincidentally, medical mistrust is highest in communities that are poor, racially diverse, and overpoliced. Thus, to improve the physician-patient relationship and promote health, I provide a few suggestions for how the line between law enforcement and health care may be better enforced.

INTRODUCTION

A.  Abortion Restrictions Intensify Police Presence into Health Care

In the wake of the Supreme Court’s decision in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health, 597 U.S. 215 (2022), legislatures in conservative states have significantly restricted access to abortion.1Larissa Jimenez, 60 Days After Dobbs: State Legal Developments on Abortion, Brennan Ctr. for Just. (Aug. 24, 2022), https://www.brennancenter.org/our-work/research-reports/60-days-after-dobbs-state-legal-developments-abortion [https://perma.cc/V2N3-N6YX] (“Aside from trigger bans already on the books, over 100 bills restricting access to abortion have been introduced in 2022 alone.”); Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Org., 597 U.S. 215 (2022). One such law is Utah’s SB 174, which was written to go into effect as soon as Roe v. Wade, 410 U.S. 113 (1973), was overturned.2Roe v. Wade, 410 U.S. 113 (1973). This law criminalizes the provision of abortion from implantation in all but three narrow circumstances.3Abortion Prohibition Amendments, Senate Bill 174, 2020 Leg., Gen Sess. (Utah 2020) (codified at Utah Code Ann. 1953, § 76-7a-101). One of the three circumstances is if the woman was sexually assaulted.

However, it is not enough that the patient confide in her doctor that she was raped. Before terminating a pregnancy, physicians are required to verify that the rape has been reported to law enforcement.4SB 174 is currently enjoined from being enforced. However, this same requirement is present in the current law, which bans abortion after eighteen weeks and also makes an exception in the instance of rape. Because the vast majority of abortions occur before eighteen weeks, this provision has not been tested much. This same provision exists in other states.5See Miss. Code Ann. § 41-41-45 (2024); Idaho Code § 18-622(2)(b) (2024); W. Va. Code § 16-2R-3 (2024). There is no legislative guidance on the procedure to be followed to protect the confidentiality of the patient’s medical records or the patient-provider privilege. This sort of conspicuous and ill-conceived police intrusion into medical decision-making is both exceptionally troubling and on the rise.

Such laws interfere with patient care by thrusting police into decisions that should be exclusively between patients and their doctors. Rape survivors frequently choose not to report their assault out of concerns that it will revictimize them without leading to a conviction.6“[Survivors] often encounter individuals who are skeptical about their claims, diminish their credibility, minimize their experience, are dismissive of them entirely, or are generally insensitive to their experience. This phenomenon has been termed ‘secondary victimization,’ or ‘the second rape.’ ” Alexa Sardina & Alissa R. Ackerman, Restorative Justice in Cases of Sexual Harm, 25 CUNY L. Rev. 1, 6 (2022) (footnote omitted). Under the law of several states, this rational, personal decision will now block these patients from accessing safe medical interventions. Complying with these laws puts physicians in a bind—do they fulfill their ethical obligations, or their legal ones? More importantly, such laws force patients to have their medical needs subordinated to larger prosecutorial goals. Prioritizing the state’s interest in prosecution in this way violates long-standing norms of patient autonomy and medical ethics.

The criminalization of abortion brings law enforcement’s conscription of physicians into agonizingly sharp relief.7See Carleen M. Zubrzycki, The Abortion Interoperability Trap, 132 Yale L.J.F. 197, 209 (2022). As of writing, the following states are enforcing their near-complete bans on abortion: Alabama (Ala. Code § 26-23H-4 (2024)); Idaho (Idaho Code § 18-622(1) (2024)); Louisiana, (La. Stat. Ann. §§ 14:87.7, 14.87.8, 40:1061 (2024)); Missouri (Mo. Rev. Stat. § 188.017(2) (2022)); Kentucky (Ky. Rev. Stat. Ann. § 311.772 (West, Westlaw through 2023 Reg. Sess.)); Mississippi (Miss. Code Ann. § 41-41-45 (2024)); Oklahoma (Senate Bill 1555, 58th Leg., 2d Reg. Sess. (Okla. 2022)); South Dakota (S.D. Codified Laws § 22-17-5.1. (2024)); Tennessee (Tenn. Code Ann. § 39-15-213 (2024)); Texas (Tex. Health & Safety Code Ann. §§ 170A.001-.007 (West, Westlaw through 2023 legislation)); West Virginia (W. Va. Code § 16-2R-3 (2024)). But this conscription goes well beyond reproductive care and operates on two axes. The first axis involves legislators, acting through the police, leaning on nurses and physicians to enforce moral codes that are only tangentially related to medicine. Examples include not just bans on abortion or gender-affirming care, but the implementation of prescription drug monitoring programs and the provision of addiction or mental health treatments through the carceral system. The second axis of police encroachment into health care is more historic and familiar. It involves cops asking hospital staff to provide them with biological samples that they then use to investigate drug prosecutions, car accidents, murders, and sexual assaults. Everywhere you look, it seems, cops are operating on these two axes to blur together the provision of health care with the prosecution of crime.

While these police encroachments target diverse kinds of data and endanger different aspects of health care, they each do violence to the physician-patient relationship and the trust on which it relies. They take what makes health care so unique and special—the confidentiality and ethical obligations the physicians have toward their patients—and exploit this for prosecutorial ends. The physician-patient relationship is not just some precious ideal that we need to protect out of respect for old-fashioned values. Substantial research now demonstrates that when we undermine the trust patients have in physicians, we do significant damage to population8See Carol Bova, Paulette Seymour Route, Kristopher Fennie, Walter Ettinger, Gertrude W. Manchester & Bruce Weinstein, Measuring Patient-Provider Trust in a Primary Care Population: Refinement of the Health Care Relationship Trust Scale, 35 Rsch. Nursing & Health 397, 397–98 (2012). and individual health.9See Sachiko Ozawa & Pooja Sripad, How Do You Measure Trust in the Health System? A Systematic Review of the Literature, 91 Soc. Sci. & Med. 10, 13 (2013).

In this Article, I explore how the blurring of health care and law enforcement violates fundamental principles of medical ethics. But I will also reveal how shaky and aspirational these core ethical principles are, and how far we are from realizing them. I establish medical mistrust, which is exacerbated by police intrusion, as a social determinant of health (“SDOH”) that has been massively underexplored.10See Ivy Mannoh, Merna Hussien, Yvonne Commodore-Mensah & Erin D. Michos, Impact of Social Determinants of Health on Cardiovascular Disease Prevention, 36 Current Op. Cardiology 572, 572 (2021). Not coincidentally, medical mistrust leads to poorer health outcomes and is much higher in communities that are poor, racially diverse, and overpoliced. This exacerbates health inequities, as Latinx and Black people have a long history of receiving inferior care, despite having comparable insurance and access.11Derek M. Griffith, Erin M. Bergner, Alecia S. Fair & Consuelo H. Wilkins, Using Mistrust, Distrust, and Low Trust Precisely in Medical Care and Medical Research Advances Health Equity, 60 Am. J. Preventive Med. 442, 442 (2021). To repair mistrust to improve patient outcomes and respect for autonomy, physicians cannot be perceived to be aligned with policing—an institution that is oppressive and surveillance-oriented.12See Marleen Stelter, Iniobong Essien, Carsten Sander & Juliane Degner, Racial Bias in Police Traffic Stops: White Residents’ County-Level Prejudice and Stereotypes Are Related to Disproportionate Stopping of Black Drivers, 33 Psych. Sci. 483, 483 (2022); see generally Mikah K. Thompson, A Culture of Silence: Exploring the Impact of the Historically Contentious Relationship Between African-Americans and the Police, 85 UMKC L. Rev. 697, 715 (2017) (describing the history of slave patrols and connecting it to modern policing).

To justify my thesis—that law enforcement and health care need to be more completely divorced from one another—the Article will proceed in the following way. In the first Part, I will reveal how abortion restrictions are just the tip of the iceberg. In the second Part, I will describe how law enforcement easily gains access to confidential medical data. In the third Part, I establish medical mistrust as a SDOH. Unfortunately, when the police lean on physicians to do their investigative work, this has the potential to annihilate the struggling physician-patient relationship and to lead to poorer health outcomes. In the fourth Part, I provide several illustrations of how law enforcement is meddling inappropriately in health care. These examples reveal not just how pervasive the meddling has become, but also how fundamental the differences are between the two cultures’ ethics. While medicine aspires toward self-regulation, privacy, accountability, efficacy, honesty, and respect for autonomy, law enforcement resists these values. This matters because the co-option of health care by the police undermines principles of medical ethics in the service of diametrically opposed prosecutorial norms. To respect patient autonomy, repair medical mistrust, and promote individual and public health, I will conclude by suggesting a few concrete legal reforms that may better wall health care off from law enforcement.

B.  Ubiquitous Police Involvement in Health Care

The post-Dobbs abortion restrictions give us a unique sense of urgency regarding the co-option of health care by law enforcement. However, abortion is just the tip of the iceberg. In many other domains, police are reaching into medical databases and spaces to gain access to information that they cannot obtain on their own.

The reason for the high quantity of police meddling in health care is two-fold. First, physicians are risk-averse and already highly regulated. Attaching threats of criminal penalties to their noncompliance with state laws will deter many of them, and it is easy to add new conditions to the renewal of their medical licenses.13See, e.g., State ex rel. Sorensen v. Lake, 236 N.W. 762, 764 (Neb. 1931) (upholding the revocation of a physician’s license for procuring a criminal abortion on the ground that it constituted immoral, unprofessional, and dishonorable conduct). See generally Annotation, Grounds for Revocation of Valid License of Physician, Surgeon, or Dentist, 82 A.L.R. 1184 (1933). This is the “easy deterrence” rationale. Second, cops are constantly looking for ways to improve their crime clearance rates, or the percentage of crimes that are solved. The value of medical and biological evidence to this pursuit is enormous, and this is something hospitals have in spades. This is the “easy access” rationale. Hospitals and physicians are thus both a convenient regulatory lever and a reservoir of evidence.14See David B. Wilson, David Weisburd & David McClure, Use of DNA Testing in Police Investigative Work for Increasing Offender Identification, Arrest, Conviction and Case Clearance, 7 Campbell Systematic Revs. 1, 6 (2011).

Astute observers have written about how the police have forced their way into emergency rooms in poor, urban neighborhoods.15See, e.g., Ji Seon Song, Cops in Scrubs, 48 Fla. St. U. L. Rev. 861, 900 (2021). In one study, close to 80% of patients who had cops transport them to or visit them in the emergency department were Black.16Rucha Alur, Erin Hall, Utsha Khatri, Sara Jacoby, Eugenia South & Elinore J. Kaufman, Law Enforcement in the Emergency Department, 157 JAMA Surgery 852, 853 (2022). Police omnipresence has been shown to compromise clinical care by, for example, prioritizing the interrogation of trauma patients when they need life-saving interventions.17Kate Gallen, Jake Sonnenberg, Carly Loughran, Michael J. Smith, Mildred Sheppard, Kirsten Schuster, Elinore Kaufman, Ji Seon Song & Erin C. Hall, Health Effects of Policing in Hospitals: A Narrative Review, J. Racial & Ethnic Health Disparities 870, 874 (2022); see Christin Bexelius, Klaus Hoeyer & Niels Lynöe, Will Forensic Use of Medical Biobanks Decrease Public Trust in Healthcare Services? Some Empirical Observations, 35 Scandinavian J. Pub. Health 442, 442 (2007). Additionally, their swiping of confidential patient data in emergency departments—sometimes without a warrant or consent—appears to be rampant, and increasing, with very little oversight.18See Ji Seon Song, Policing the Emergency Room, 134 Harv. L. Rev. 2646, 2682 (2021). Overpolicing in urban emergency rooms is a harrowing example of cops injecting themselves into health care in ways that frustrate patient autonomy and clinical care.

But it goes beyond this phenomenon too. To the surprise of many, police have been quietly conducting warrantless searches of various genetic databases.19See Natalie Ram, America’s Hidden National DNA Database, 100 Tex. L. Rev. 1253, 1268–69 (2022). Physicians have also been asked to take on the mantle of law enforcement to limit patient access to not just abortion, but also opioid medications and gender-affirming treatments. Police administer fatal doses of ketamine to patients they diagnose as having “excited delirium” despite this diagnosis being highly contested in the medical community. Counties are expanding their “treatment courts” to provide substandard mental health and addiction treatment, with threats of incarceration for noncompliance.

In many domains, law enforcement is co-opting the practice of medicine. I will go into greater detail for each example below, as they each illustrate different violations of medical ethics norms. However, in the following Section, I will introduce the problems with community distrust of police. I will then compare this to medical mistrust and explore how the deep roots of medical mistrust are an important SDOH.

1.  Police Mistrust Is at Record Highs

The public’s trust in the police is at an all-time low.20Julie Ray, Global Progress on Safety, Confidence in Police Stalls, Gallup (Oct. 26, 2022), https://news.gallup.com/poll/403937/global-progress-safety-confidence-police-stalls.aspx [https://perma.cc/YJF4-5QGA]; Charlie Sorrel, People Living In High-Crime Areas Respect the Law, But Distrust the Police, Fast Co. (Mar. 15, 2017), https://www.fastcompany.com/3068921/people-living-in-high-crime-areas-respect-the-law-but-distrust-the-police [https://perma.cc/RLH6-6ZVT] (citing the results of a study in which just 23.8% of participants “thought the police are honest”). This is related, no doubt, to the fact that in the last year alone, The Washington Post reported that over 1,100 people have been shot and killed by the police.21Fatal Force Portal, Wash. Post, https://www.washingtonpost.com/graphics/investigations/police-shootings-database [https://web.archive.org/web/20240109124949/https://www.washingtonpost.com/graphics/investigations/police-shootings-database]. Shockingly, one in twenty homicides in the U.S. are committed by law enforcement.22Lois Beckett, One in 20 US Homicides Are Committed by Police – and the Numbers Aren’t Falling, Guardian (Feb. 15, 2023, 6:00 AM), https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2023/feb/15/us-homicides-committed-by-police-gun-violence [https://perma.cc/HN3P-M7DQ]. In 2022, 11% of police killings involved no alleged offense by the deceased, 9% involved mental health or welfare checks, and 8% involved traffic violations.23Sam Levin, ‘It Never Stops’: Killings by US Police Reach Record High in 2022, Guardian (Jan. 6, 2023, 6:00 AM), https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2023/jan/06/us-police-killings-record-number-2022 [https://perma.cc/B47K-76WX]. One need not linger on these data to understand why the police in the United States spark fear of violence.24See Cheryl Boudreau, Scott A. MacKenzie & Daniel J. Simmons, Police Violence and Public Perceptions: An Experimental Study of How Information and Endorsements Affect Support for Law Enforcement, 81 J. Politics 1101, 1101 (2019). People should obviously not be killed for being mentally ill or for running a red light.

Now that there is more widespread video recording of officers “as they engage in violence against Black citizens . . . the world has begun to see the human rights violations” committed against Black people by police.25Corinthia A. Carter, Police Brutality, the Law & Today’s Social Justice Movement: How the Lack of Police Accountability Has Fueled #Hashtag Activism, 20 CUNY L. Rev. 521, 522–23 (2017). In the wake of the police murders of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor, almost ninety percent (88%) of Black Americans say major changes are needed to make policing more accountable.26Steve Crabtree, Most Americans Say Policing Needs ‘Major Changes,’ Gallup (July 22, 2020), https://news.gallup.com/poll/315962/americans-say-policing-needs-major-changes.aspx [https://perma.cc/93BQ-EP5Z]. This is compared with 63% of Hispanic Americans and 51% of White Americans who likewise desire greater police accountability.27Id. And since the widespread coverage of these incidents, even more examples of police brutality have impaired community trust and reduced incentives to cooperate with the police.28See Scott M. Mourtgos, Roger C. Mayer, Richard A. Wise & Holly O’Rourke, The Overlooked Perspective of Police Trust in the Public: Measurement and Effects on Police Job Behaviors, 31 Crim. Just. Pol’y Rev. 639, 662 (2020). Awareness of police brutality has been shown to result in fewer calls to 911 and less information-sharing with the police.29Joanelle A. Bailey, Sara F. Jacoby, Erin C. Hall, Utsha Khatri, Gregory Whitehorn & Elinore J. Kaufman, Compounding Trauma: The Intersections of Racism, Law Enforcement, and Injury, 8 Current Trauma Reps. 105, 107 (2022).

2.  Structural Racism in Policing

A large body of scientific research reveals structural racism in “virtually all aspects of the criminal legal system,” with Black Americans “experiencing harsher outcomes in relation to police encounters, bail setting, sentence length, and capital punishment than White people.”30Zinzi D. Bailey, Justin M. Feldman & Mary T. Bassett, How Structural Racism Works — Racist Policies as a Root Cause of U.S. Racial Health Inequities, 384 New Eng. J. Medicine 768, 769 (2021) (“A large body of scientific research documents both racially unequal outcomes and racial bias in virtually all aspects of the criminal legal system, with Black people experiencing harsher outcomes in relation to police encounters, bail setting, sentence length, and capital punishment than White people.”). While people’s trust in the police varies greatly based on their race, in general, the trust people have in police has taken a huge hit in the last few years.31See Daniel K. Pryce & Joselyne L. Chenane, Trust and Confidence in Police Officers and the Institution of Policing: The Views of African Americans in the American South, 67 Crime & Delinq. 808, 809 (2021).

Researchers have begun to make the connection between police brutality and unmet medical needs.32Sirry Alang, Donna McAlpine, Malcolm McClain & Rachel Hardeman, Police Brutality, Medical Mistrust and Unmet Need for Medical Care, 22 Preventive Med. Reps. 1, 1 (2021). A proposed mechanism for this is impaired medical trust. This Article proposes a direct link between policing and inequitable health outcomes, because patients perceive medicine as aligned with law enforcement. When doctors work too closely with cops, health care is not just seen as affected by the police—it is the police. This takes medicine in the opposite direction from where it needs to go: to correct health inequities. Because trust is so vital and diminishing in health care, we must do more to ensure that the violent and patronizing cop culture does not infect the clinic.

I.  MEDICAL MISTRUST IS A SOCIAL DETERMINANT OF HEALTH

A.  The Physician-Patient Relationship Is Suffering

Trust is a “vital aspect of clinical care”33Jennifer Richmond, Marcella H. Boynton, Sachiko Ozawa, Kathryn E. Muessig, Samuel Cykert & Kurt M. Ribisl, Development and Validation of the Trust in My Doctor, Trust in Doctors in General, and Trust in the Health Care Team Scales, Soc. Sci. & Med., Apr. 2022, at 1, 2. with mistrust being “a major barrier to a strong patient-clinician relationship.”34Mohsen Bazargan, Sharon Cobb & Shervin Assari, Discrimination and Medical Mistrust in a Racially and Ethnically Diverse Sample of California Adults, 19 Annals Fam. Med. 4, 4 (2021). Unfortunately, the physician-patient relationship is not what it once was. Today, the ideal of the trustworthy, compassionate, attentive physician seems almost quaint. Most of us do not have a long-term, trusting relationship with our primary care doctor. There are many reasons for this.

First, patients and physicians have precious little time to build trust.35Mary-Jo DelVecchio Good, Cara James, Byron J. Good & Anne E. Becker, The Culture of Medicine and Racial, Ethnic, and Class Disparities in Healthcare, in The Blackwell Companion to Social Inequalities 396, 402 (Mary Romero & Eric Margolis eds., 2005). Since the 1990s, managed care insurance organizations have put considerable pressure on physicians to move quickly from patient to patient.36Ezekiel J. Emanuel & Nancy Neveloff Dubler, Preserving the Physician-Patient Relationship in the Era of Managed Care, 273 JAMA 323, 328 (1995). Seeing a high volume of patients is financially rewarded in the allocation of relative value units (“RVUs”), which is a performance metric that impacts physicians’ promotions and salaries. Additionally, doctors “face mounting demands on their time” to fill insurance authorization requests, perform utility review, train mentees, and update their recordkeeping.37David C. Dugdale, Ronald Epstein & Steven Z. Pantilat, Time and the Patient-Physician Relationship, 14 J. Gen. Internal Med. S34, S34 (1999). Patients and physicians simply do not have the time to get to know one another in the way they did decades ago.

Research shows the best way to forge a strong therapeutic alliance is for physicians to “engage more with patients by listening to what they have to say, asking questions and showing sensitivity to their emotional concerns.”38Rafael Zambelli Pinto, Manuela L Ferreira, Vinicius C Oliveira, Marcia R Franco, Roger Adams, Christopher G Maher & Paulo H Ferreira, Patient-Centred Communication Is Associated with Positive Therapeutic Alliance: A Systematic Review, 58 J. Physiotherapy 77, 77 (2012). But unfortunately, this is not occurring. The fee-for-service model reimburses hospitals and physicians for doing things, but not for talking about whether and how to do things.39Physicians are incentivized to “medicate and operate on patients, rather than to talk about whether or why to do these things.” See Teneille R. Brown, Denying Death, 57 Ariz. L. Rev. 977, 977 (2015). Relatedly, as medicine has become more technical and specialized, there has also been “a growing substitution” of patient self-reports for those made by machines.40Iain Hay, Money, Medicine, and Malpractice in American Society 41 (1992). Why focus on what a patient is telling you, when you can run a test, bill for it, and see “objective” data for yourself? The overreliance on tests and technology may lead patients to feel like their personal accounts of their health histories do not matter.41See id.

Telemedicine may also be damaging the physician-patient relationship. Something critical is lost when our regular physicians cannot see us biting our nails, rapidly losing weight, or struggling to walk. In one study of telemedicine, physicians reported they “were very concerned about the loss of personal connections and touch, which they believed diminished expected rituals that typically strengthen physician-patient relationships.”42Teresita Gomez, Yohualli B. Anaya, Kevin J. Shih & Derjung M. Tarn, A Qualitative Study of Primary Care Physicians’ Experiences with Telemedicine During COVID-19, 34 J. Am. Bd. Fam. Med. S61, S61 (2021). Of course, telemedicine improves access for many rural Americans. It is not a universally bad thing. But when it comes to initiating strong, trusting bonds between physicians and patients, it is a poor substitute for in-person visits.

Given these systemic pressures, it is impressive that some physicians still take the time to get to know their patients. Though of course, not all physicians do. And data suggests that patients of color43See Adolfo G. Cuevas, Kerth O’Brien & Somnath Saha, African American Experiences in Healthcare: “I Always Feel Like I’m Getting Skipped Over,” 35 Health Psych. 987, 990–91 (2016). who are overweight,44See David B. Sarwer, Hamlet Gasoyan, Sarah Bauerle Bass, Jacqueline C. Spitzer, Rohit Soans & Daniel J. Rubin, Role of Weight Bias and Patient–Physician Communication in the Underutilization of Bariatric Surgery, 17 Surgery for Obesity & Related Diseases 1926, 1928–29 (2021). who have intellectual disabilities,45See J. Wilkinson, D. Dreyfus, D. Bowen & B. Bokhour, Patient and Provider Views on the Use of Medical Services by Women with Intellectual Disabilities, 57 J. Intell. Disability Rsch. 1058, 1064–65 (2013). or who use illicit drugs46See P. Todd Korthuis, Somnath Saha, Geetanjali Chander, Dennis McCarty, Richard D. Moore, Jonathan A. Cohn, Victoria L. Sharp & Mary Catherine Beach, Substance Use and the Quality of Patient-Provider Communication in HIV Clinics, 15 AIDS & Behav. 832, 838–39 (2011). are more likely to feel rushed by their doctors and to experience poor physician communication.

Most patients are familiar with the feeling of being rushed by their doctor. One famous study found that on average, physicians interrupt their patients after less than twenty seconds of the patient speaking.47See Larry B. Mauksch, Questioning a Taboo: Physicians’ Interruptions During Interactions with Patients, 317 JAMA 1021, 1021 (2017). While interruptions sometimes facilitate deeper sharing, physicians often interrupt patients in ways that discourage patients from offering additional relevant concerns. It is difficult to trust people who do not appear to listen to us.

Together, these factors contribute to a perfect storm that is weakening the physician-patient relationship. Repairing this relationship is not just a good insofar as it promotes health; it is a good on its own because it fosters informed, compassionate, and individualized care. Against this backdrop where doctors are not trusted and police are trusted even less, we need to do more to repair patient trust in health care. Allowing cops to take advantage of the trust that remains in health care to access patient data and prosecute crime does exactly the opposite. In this next Section, I will describe how medical mistrust impairs individual and public health.

B.  Medical Mistrust Hurts Health

The trust between clinicians and patients does not exist in the context of an equal relationship. There is a sharp power imbalance, where the “doctor typically has knowledge that the patient lacks, and the power to order investigations and treatments.”48Zoë Fritz & Richard Holton, Too Much Medicine: Not Enough Trust?, 45 J. Med. Ethics 31, 33 (2019). But the asymmetry flows in the other direction as well—the patient may hold private knowledge about their symptoms, their values, and their medical history that really ought to be shared.

In theory, patients can adopt the treatment plan or not, they can terminate the relationship, and they can seek treatment elsewhere. But this power is severely limited by practical considerations. For example, many patients live in rural areas, have complicated diagnoses that require specialized care, or do not have access to affordable insurance and a range of providers. Any of these can mean that they have no real choice and are “stuck” seeing particular physicians. Because patients lack the ability to see another doctor, earning the patient’s trust is essential to making sure patients receive quality care and do not feel forced to continue a disrespectful relationship.49See id. at 31.

Researchers have documented unacceptable levels of medical mistrust, which captures the “overall suspicion of the health care system and beliefs that health care providers and organizations may act contrary to patients’ best interests.”50Alang et al., supra note 32, at 1. Medical mistrust has been shown to lead to poorer health outcomes,51Bova et al., supra note 8, at 398; Ozawa & Sripad, supra note 9, at 10. and to “trigger nothing short of a public health crisis.”52Robert I. Field, Anthony W. Orlando & Arnold J. Rosoff, Am I My Cousin’s Keeper?: A Proposal to Protect Relatives of Genetic Database Subjects, 18 Ind. Health L. Rev. 1, 21 (2021). However, while understood to be “ubiquitous,” precise measurement of medical mistrust has been difficult because it encompasses many different things.53Ramona Benkert, Adolfo Cuevas, Hayley S. Thompson, Emily Dove-Meadows & Donulae Knuckles, Ubiquitous Yet Unclear: A Systematic Review of Medical Mistrust, 45 Behav. Med. 86, 86 (2019).

Even so, mistrust has been shown to cause patients to feel stressed about seeing their physician54See Lisa Rosenthal & Marci Lobel, Gendered Racism and the Sexual and Reproductive Health of Black and Latina Women, 25 Ethnicity & Health 367, 388–89 (2020). and report less satisfaction with their care.55Bazargan et al., supra note 34, at 5. Medical mistrust also leads patients to refuse prescribed medications, to miss cancer screenings,56Natalie Escobio Bustillo, Heather L. McGinty, Jason R. Dahn, Betina Yanez, Michael H. Antoni, Bruce R. Kava & Frank J. Penedo, Fatalism, Medical Mistrust, and Pretreatment Health-Related Quality of Life in Ethnically Diverse Prostate Cancer Patients, 26 Psycho-Oncology 323, 327 (2017). to not see their doctor for regular visits,57See Alaina Brenick, Kelly Romano, Christopher Kegler & Lisa A. Eaton, Understanding the Influence of Stigma and Medical Mistrust on Engagement in Routine Healthcare Among Black Women Who Have Sex with Women, 4 LGBT Health 4, 9 (2017); Richmond et al., supra note 33, at 7. to discourage others from seeking treatment, to not share sensitive medical information with their providers, and to be less likely to comply with the prescribed treatment or health care plan.58See Mohsen Bazargan, Cheryl Wisseh, Edward Adinkrah, Hoorolnesa Ameli, Delia Santana, Sharon Cobb & Shervin Assari, Influenza Vaccination Among Underserved African-American Older Adults, 2020 BioMed Rsch. Int’l 1, 2 (2020); Richmond et al., supra note 33, at 7. There is even some evidence that trusting your health care provider is associated with better self-reported health status.59Ozawa & Sripad, supra note 9, at 10. Put simply, when trust suffers, patients suffer.60See Benkert et al., supra note 53, at 94.

Medical mistrust is exaggerated in already marginalized communities. It has been shown to discourage Native Americans,61Mary K. Canales, Diane Weiner, Markos Samos & Nina S. Wampler, Multi-Generational Perspectives on Health, Cancer, and Biomedicine: Northeastern Native American Perspectives Shaped by Mistrust, 22 J. Health Care for Poor & Underserved 894, 896 (2011); Lauren Vogel, Broken Trust Drives Native Health Disparities, 187 Canadian Med. Ass’n J. E9, E9 (2015). Black people,62Ballington L. Kinlock, Lauren J. Parker, Janice V. Bowie, Daniel L. Howard, Thomas A. LaVeist & Roland J. Thorpe Jr., High Levels of Medical Mistrust Are Associated with Low Quality of Life Among Black and White Men with Prostate Cancer, 24 Cancer Control 72, 76 (2017); K. Allen Greiner, Wendi Born, Nicole Nollen & Jasjit S. Ahluwalia, Knowledge and Perceptions of Colorectal Cancer Screening Among Urban African Americans, 20 J. Gen. Internal Med. 977, 982 (2005); Brenick et al., supra note 57, at 4–5. and Latinx   people63Jessica Jaiswal, Whose Responsibility Is It to Dismantle Medical Mistrust? Future Directions for Researchers and Health Care Providers, 45 Behav. Med. 188, 189 (2019). from   receiving   all   kinds   of   care.   In   groups   with intersectionalities,64Ivy K. Ho, Taylor A. Sheldon & Elliott Botelho, Medical Mistrust Among Women with Intersecting Marginalized Identities: A Scoping Review, 27 Ethnicity & Health 1733, 1733–35 (2022). the effects of mistrust might be even more exaggerated.65See Rosenthal & Lobel, supra note 54, at 388–89.

For example, researchers have linked vaccine hesitancy to medical mistrust.66See Xiaoning Zhang, Yuqing Guo, Qiong Zhou, Zaixiang Tan & Junli Cao, The Mediating Roles of Medical Mistrust, Knowledge, Confidence and Complacency in the Pathway from Conspiracy Beliefs to Vaccine Hesitancy, 9 Vaccines 1342, 1342 (2021). And poor adherence to medication plans has also been linked to medical mistrust. See Gregory L. Hall & Michele Heath, Poor Medication Adherence in African Americans Is a Matter of Trust, 8 J. Racial & Ethnic Health Disparities 927, 927 (2021). During the COVID-19 (“COVID”) pandemic, public health researchers observed that Black and Latinx people had more “vaccine hesitancy” despite being disproportionately impacted by COVID deaths.67Monica Webb Hooper, Anna María Nápoles & Eliseo J. Pérez-Stable, No Populations Left Behind: Vaccine Hesitancy and Equitable Diffusion of Effective COVID-19 Vaccines, 36 J. Gen. Internal Med. 2130, 2130–31 (2021). But rather than focusing on “why people of color distrust medicine,” scholars have recently encouraged asking “how has power been abused in medicine?” and “what can institutions do to stop it?”68See Keisha Ray, What Is Medicine to Do?: Righting Past and Present Abuses Against People of Color, Bioethics Today (Mar. 21, 2021), https://bioethicstoday.org/blog/what-is-medicine-to-do-righting-past-and-present-abuses-against-people-of-color [https://perma.cc/GJ6M-PDAV] (describing how the medical field can address distrust of medicine among people of color). That is, why might people of color rationally fear the COVID vaccine, based on how they have been exploited and abused in the past? The burden of rectifying mistrust cannot be borne exclusively by the disadvantaged communities themselves. This is the great insight of the SDOH framework. It allays the propensity to engage in victim blaming or assuming that the alarming state of health inequity is just.

Unfortunately, the nature of medical mistrust makes it difficult to combat. In a poll by the Association of American Medical Colleges, “six in 10 adults have concerns about sharing their social and online activity data in a healthcare setting” in part due to mistrust.69Franzi Rokoske, Medical Mistrust: One Obstacle on the Path to Health Equity, RTI Health Advance (June 14, 2022), https://healthcare.rti.org/insights/medical-mistrust-and-health-equity [https://perma.cc/YH8B-TVMP] (referencing Anurupa Dev, Kendal Orgera, Sarah Piepenbrink & Phoebe Ramsey, For the Common Good: Data, Trust, and Community Health, AAMC Ctr. for Health Just. (Mar. 4, 2022), https://www.aamchealthjustice.org/news/polling/common-good [https://perma.cc/KE4T-24GC]). While researchers often need access to race, income, and other sensitive data to measure health inequities, “when patients distrust the system, they are less likely to share self-identifying data.”70Id. This creates an unfortunate feedback loop; the very causes of medical mistrust make patients reluctant to provide the data needed to correct it. Of course, if patients know that their health data can be shared with law enforcement, they are even less likely to share their demographic data with their doctors. This will make it even harder to run racially sensitive epidemiological studies to correct health inequities.

As a key factor in racial health disparities, distrust in health care institutions is a massively underexplored SDOH.71See Alicia L. Best, Faith E. Fletcher, Mika Kadono & Rueben C. Warren, Institutional Distrust Among African Americans and Building Trustworthiness in the COVID-19 Response: Implications for Ethical Public Health Practice, 32 J. Health Care for Poor & Underserved 90, 91–92 (2021); see also Jaiswal, supra note 63, at 188. It needs to be explored in the same way as other well-known factors, such as stress,72See Richard C. Palmer, Deborah Ismond, Erik J. Rodriguez & Jay S. Kaufman, Social Determinants of Health: Future Directions for Health Disparities Research, 109 Am. J. Pub. Health S70, S70 (2019). exposure to high levels of industrial chemicals, air pollution,73See Harriet A. Washington, How Environmental Racism Fuels Pandemics, 581 Nature 241, 241 (2020). or living in food deserts.74See Donald Warne & Siobhan Wescott, Social Determinants of American Indian Nutritional Health, Current Devs. Nutrition, Supplement 2, Aug. 2019, at 12. Only by viewing the co-option of health care by law enforcement as a SDOH can we appropriately evaluate the health impacts on communities of color who already experience disproportionate health disparities.

1.  Medicine’s History of Injustice

Medicine has a troubled history of policing bodies and reinforcing power structures.75See DelVecchio Good et al., supra note 35, at 401–03. For too long, physicians from upper-class, white households have dismissed the stories of patients who were considered “disobedient” or “difficult” simply because they had different backgrounds or experiences.76See Edward J. Bergman & Nicholas J. Diamond, Sickle Cell Disease and the “Difficult Patient” Conundrum, Am. J. Bioethics, Mar. 2013, at 3, 4–5. This dynamic continues today. The disparity in class, education, physical ability, and race creates a form of epistemic injustice77See Melissa Creary & Arri Eisen, Acknowledging Levels of Racism in the Definition of “Difficult,” Am. J. Bioethics, Mar. 2013, at 16, 17. that prioritizes the voices of patients who tell the physicians familiar stories and what they expect to hear.78See DelVecchio Good et al., supra note 35, at 401–03. Add to this the fact that physicians generally have poor listening skills,79See Peter M. Ruberton, Ho P. Huynh, Tricia A. Miller, Elliott Kruse, Joseph Chancellor & Sonja Lyubomirsky, The Relationship Between Physician Humility, Physician–Patient Communication, and Patient Health, 99 Patient Educ. & Counseling 1138, 1139 (2016); Allan S. Berger, Arrogance Among Physicians, 77 Acad. Med. 145, 145–47 (2002). and we can see why we need to “dethrone” physicians from their presumed superiority to respond to the SDOH.80See Ellen J. Amster, The Past, Present and Future of Race and Colonialism in Medicine, 194 Canadian Med. Ass’n J. E708, E708 (2022).

Hubris and histories of racism in health care have led to justified mistrust of medical providers, especially among people with disabilities,81See Nancy Sharby, Katharine Martire & Maura D. Iversen, Decreasing Health Disparities for People with Disabilities Through Improved Communication Strategies and Awareness, 12 Int’l J. Env’t Rsch. & Pub. Health 3301, 3312 (2015). women, Indigenous, Black, and Latinx populations.82See Richmond et al., supra note 33, at 1–2. When reflecting on this, people often call to mind the unethical Tuskegee experiments, in which poor Black sharecroppers were deliberately infected with syphilis and denied available treatments. But by focusing on Tuskegee, we risk minimizing the geographic and temporal breadth of medical racism.

Before the Civil War, physicians “attributed poor health among slaves to their biologic inferiority.”83Rachel R. Hardeman, Eduardo M. Medina & Katy B. Kozhimannil, Structural Racism and Supporting Black Lives — The Role of Health Professionals, 375 New Eng. J. Medicine 2113, 2114 (2016). They ignored the fact that servitude was toxic to health while simultaneously exploiting individuals for medical research. Historically, hospitals were intentionally racially segregated, and they continue to be underfunded in racially diverse communities.84Ayah Nuriddin, Graham Mooney & Alexandre I.R. White, Reckoning with Histories of Medical Racism and Violence in the USA, 396 Lancet 949, 949–50 (2020). Up until the 1970s, Black and Indigenous women were formally and involuntarily sterilized by physicians.85Id. Women in detention facilities continue to be sterilized through deception and violations of informed consent.86See Toni Fitzgerald, New Documentary ‘Belly of the Beast’ Explores a Sadly Timely Issue, Forbes (Oct. 26, 2020 7:28 PM), https://www.forbes.com/sites/tonifitzgerald/2020/10/26/new-documentary-belly-of-the-beast-explores-a-sadly-timely-issue/?sh=5d73ed3a5424 [https://perma.cc/G737-WHHM]; see also Camilo Montoya-Galvez, Investigation Finds Women Detained by ICE Underwent “Unnecessary Gynecological Procedures” at Georgia Facility, CBS News (Nov. 15, 2022, 4:18 PM), https://www.cbsnews.com/news/women-detained-ice-unnecessary-gynecological-procedures-georgia-facility-investigation [https://perma.cc/ZM2P-CQ6W]. To this day, Black women are much more likely to die from childbirth because their health concerns are dismissed.87Jasmine D. Johnson & Judette M. Louis, Does Race or Ethnicity Play a Role in the Origin, Pathophysiology, and Outcomes of Preeclampsia? An Expert Review of the Literature, 226 Am. J. Obstetrics & Gynecology S876, S876 (2022); Nina Martin & Renee Montagne, Nothing Protects Black Women from Dying in Pregnancy and Childbirth, ProPublica (Dec. 7, 2017, 8:00 AM), https://www.propublica.org/article/nothing-protects-black-women-from-dying-in-pregnancy-and-childbirth [https://perma.cc/B6N4-JYYU]. In one study, half of the white physicians surveyed were found to hold false beliefs about Black people’s biological differences—such as thinking they have thicker skin or their blood coagulates more quickly.88Hardeman et al., supra note 83, at 2114. Infant mortality for Black babies is higher now than it was during the antebellum period.89Nuriddin et al., supra note 84, at 950. To this day, physicians are more than twice as likely to call the cops when treating a Black patient compared with when they are treating white patients.90Gallen et al., supra note 17, at 871. Reports of these disparities naturally make their way to the affected communities.

2.  To Repair Medical Mistrust, Law Enforcement Must Be Walled Off from Medical Spaces and Data

At the population level, physicians are generally trusted as an institution. However, trust in the medical establishment varies significantly by class and race. People of color report lower trust in doctors and the larger health care system than do white people, likely due to the medical racism described above.91Richmond et al., supra note 33, at 2. Members of the LGBTQ community have also experienced discrimination and inferior health care treatment.92See Brenick et al., supra note 57, at 9.

Compared with white participants, a multivariate analysis revealed that Black and Hispanic participants had 73% and 49% higher odds, respectively, of reporting mistrust in health care professionals.93Bazargan et al., supra note 34, at 8. Additionally, low-income families in the U.S. report being significantly less trusting of physicians and less satisfied with their care than adults who are not from low-income families.94Robert J. Blendon, John M. Benson & Joachim O. Hero, Public Trust in Physicians — U.S. Medicine in International Perspective, 371 New Eng. J. Medicine 1570, 1571. Given the volume of data that demonstrates how mistrust impacts health outcomes, it also contributes to significant health care inequalities.95See Richmond et al., supra note 33, at 2. By including ratings of trust from marginalized groups, we can see that for many, the health care system is already failing to behave in ways that are worthy of trust.96See Blendon et al., supra note 94, at 1571.

These datapoints tell us that structural racism and discrimination persist in health care. However, the quantitative data risks masking the lived experiences of people of color, many of whom have a personal story of being mistreated by a medical professional.97Ray, supra note 68.

As one physician put it, “to improve relationships between doctors and disenfranchised patients[,]” physicians must “recognize that racial preconceptions continue to affect clinical practice, even if it’s not intentional.”98Sushrut Jangi, Medicine Has a Long History of Failing Black People. Let’s Change That, Bos. Globe (Nov. 2, 2016, 8:00 AM), https://www.bostonglobe.com/magazine/2016/11/02/medicine-has-long-history-failing-black-people-let-change-that/JQTDySyqeOOjcgHlEG2FMM/story.html [https://perma.cc/QK87-MUPT]. Unfortunately, little has changed since the recognition over twenty years ago that “black Americans are less likely than whites to receive a wide range of medical services, including potentially lifesaving surgical procedures.”99Arnold M. Epstein & John Z. Ayanian, Racial Disparities in Medical Care, 344 New Eng. J. Medicine 1471, 1471 (2001). Black people are “dying not of exotic, incurable, poorly understood illnesses nor of genetic diseases that target only them, but rather from common ailments that are more often prevented and treated among whites than among blacks.”100Harriet A. Washington, Medical Apartheid: The Dark History of Medical Experimentation on Black Americans from Colonial Times to the Present 3 (1st ed. 2006).

Medical schools in the U.S. are working to correct this. For example, during the initial COVID lockdowns, doctors protested in solidarity with Black Lives Matter activists in grassroots events called “White Coats for Black Lives.”101Abby Haglage, ‘White Coats for Black Lives’: How Nurses and Doctors Are Sounding the Alarm About Medical Racism, Yahoo (June 14, 2020), https://www.yahoo.com/now/white-coats-for-black-lives-how-nurses-and-doctors-are-sounding-the-alarm-about-medical-racism-151450054.html [https://perma.cc/WR5P-4JG6]. The American Medical Association (“AMA”) has also worked to incorporate anti-racism102See Betial Asmerom, Rupinder K. Legha, Russyan Mark Mabeza & Vanessa Nuñez, An Abolitionist Approach to Antiracist Medical Education, 24 AMA J. Ethics 194, 195 (2022). and anti-ableist education103See Trisha Kaundinya & Samantha Schroth, Dismantle Ableism, Accept Disability: Making the Case for Anti-Ableism in Medical Education, J. Med. Educ. & Curricular Dev’t, Feb. 2022, at 1, 1. throughout the medical curriculum. However, they must still do more. Medicine must continue to shift its gaze to the SDOH, rather than “record[ing] politics as biological misfortune.”104Eric Reinhart, Medicine for the People, Bos. Rev. (Mar. 22, 2021), https://www.bostonreview.net/articles/eric-reinhart-accompaniment-and-medicine [https://perma.cc/2ZD8-KVF3]. To trust health care systems, patients must feel heard by their doctor, trust that their doctor is being honest and doing what is in their best interest, and feel the doctor will respect their confidentiality.105See Ozawa & Sripad, supra note 9, at 12; Carol L. Connell, Sherry C. Wang, LaShaundrea Crook & Kathy Yadrick, Barriers to Healthcare Seeking and Provision Among African American Adults in the Rural Mississippi Delta Region: Community and Provider Perspectives, 44 J. Cmty. Health 636, 637 (2019).

Most of the metrics on trust in medicine focus on the physician-patient relationship, because it is the most important aspect of patient trust.106See Ozawa & Sripad, supra note 9, at 11–12. As Ji Seon Song recognized, “[w]hen medical and police actors act in concert, there is the potential for their actions to amplify bias and discrimination.”107Song, supra note 15, at 873. In light of the rampant violence and pervasive lack of trust in the police, repairing medical mistrust cannot be done if law enforcement intrudes on this struggling relationship by invading medical spaces and data.

In the next Section, I will pivot to explaining how it is that police gain access to confidential health information. Given that health data is considered especially sensitive, federal statutes, state statutes, and evidence rules recognize it as privileged and confidential. However, ironically, the Privacy Rule of the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (“HIPAA”), which was enacted to shield medical data from unauthorized disclosure, incorporates a number of exceptions for the police.108Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act, 42 U.S.C. § 1320d-1. These exceptions oddly give the state access to this highly private information.

II.  HOW POLICE HAVE EASY ACCESS TO MEDICAL DATA AND SPACES

Many of the articles and cases that have analyzed whether police can co-opt health data have viewed this query exclusively through the lens of a criminal defendant’s Fourth Amendment constitutional right to be free from unreasonable searches and seizures. Fourth Amendment cases nearly always find a way to permit the unconsented-to blood draw, search of a private database, or forced involvement of physicians in policing.109See Shima Baradaran, Rebalancing the Fourth Amendment, 102 Geo. L.J. 1, 16–17 (2013) (explaining how courts side with governments over individual rights in close to 80% of Fourth Amendment cases, and that the need for effective law enforcement is the most cited reason).

The Fourth Amendment framing makes sense as an initial matter, because it provides the constitutional floor for privacy protection. However, it does not provide the ceiling. Governments can do much more to protect medical privacy than what is required by the Fourth Amendment. And by myopically focusing on constitutionality when assessing medical privacy, courts and legislatures do not take seriously the social good that comes from walling health care off from law enforcement.110See id.

This is not to say that Fourth Amendment doctrine is irrelevant; it provides a critical piece of the tapestry. I will therefore explain how it has operated to generally grant police access to private medical data. For starters, if a valid warrant is issued on a showing of probable cause, the medical search would not violate the Fourth Amendment’s protection against unreasonable searches and seizures.111Carpenter v. United States, 585 U.S. 296, 316 (2018) (“[T]he Government must generally obtain a warrant supported by probable cause before acquiring such records. Although the ultimate measure of the constitutionality of a governmental search is reasonableness, our cases establish that warrantless searches are typically unreasonable where a search is undertaken by law enforcement officials to discover evidence of criminal wrongdoing.” (internal quotation marks omitted)). But even without a warrant, police access to medical records is often permitted as either not being a search,112See United States v. Elliott, 676 F. Supp. 2d 431, 439 (D. Md. 2009). being a reasonable search, or being part of a “special need” that is incidental to law enforcement.113Song, supra note 18, at 2679.

Even so, depending on the circumstances, police can be found to have violated a patient’s Fourth Amendment rights if they obtained private medical data without a warrant and the search was deemed unreasonable. To determine reasonableness, courts balance the government interest in obtaining the data, which is often compelling, against the “manner in which the information was gathered and maintained, and whether confidentiality is protected.”114Devon T. Unger, Minding Your Meds: Balancing the Needs for Patient Privacy and Law Enforcement in Prescription Drug Monitoring Programs, 117 W. Va. L. Rev. 345, 358 (2014). In practice, this does not limit police access too much. This is especially true when police obtain toxicology results from the emergency department to prosecute drunk driving. As Song points out, this is because emergency departments are often treated as though they are public spaces, where patients forfeit their expectations of privacy.115“Courts generally view the ER as a place with no expectation of privacy, shielding certain searches and seizures from further scrutiny.” Song, supra note 18, at 2666. Thus, even if the access to medical data is deemed a “search,” it will often be considered a reasonable one in light of the patients’ reduced expectations of privacy.

Given the unpredictability of the Fourth Amendment balancing test, many are concerned about the protection medical data will be afforded in the context of reproductive or gender-affirming care. At present, the case law is inconsistent in terms of whether the involuntary disclosure of private, non-emergency medical data runs afoul of the Fourth Amendment, especially when the evidence might be permitted under federal law, but not under state law.116See Unger, supra note 114, at 353. And if the courts come out differently on the reasonableness of searches in less politicized contexts of drunk driving and gunshot wounds, they will certainly be variable when dealing with prosecutions of physicians who provide highly-politicized abortion and trans care.117See, e.g., Courtney Tanner, Private Medical Records for Transgender Minors Will Be Shared with the State, Utah Judge Rules in Sports Ban Case, Salt Lake Trib. (Sept. 12, 2023, 11:28 AM), https://www.sltrib.com/news/education/2023/09/12/private-medical-records/#:~:text=Judge%20Keith%20Kelly%20said%20the,their%20legal%20claimS%2C%20he%20said [https://perma.cc/66QU-UUYR]. And no matter how or why the private medical data are disclosed, once the state has access to this sensitive health data, the damage will be done. This will almost certainly chill patient access to many types of treatment.

However, to be clear, the police rarely need warrants to search in health care settings. Instead of obtaining a warrant by demonstrating probable cause, they can simply rely on subpoenas, state statutes, and HIPAA exceptions to gain warrantless access to patient medical data. Health care data has become the warrantless, backdoor, investigatory jackpot. So, how does this happen?

First, hospitals can play a quite active role in sharing patient data. The coercive prenatal drug testing program deemed unconstitutional in Ferguson v. City of Charleston, 532 U.S. 67 (2001), was a hybrid program run by both the hospital and the local police. It threatened women with criminal punishment if they did not “agree” to drug treatment.118The Supreme Court held that testing women for this law enforcement purpose, without their informed consent, violated the Fourth Amendment as an unreasonable search. Ferguson v. City of Charleston, 532 U.S. 67, 84–85 (2001). In this case, the hospital “colluded” with law enforcement to test pregnant women for drug use if one of nine criteria were met. The hospital then sent the results to law enforcement, who used evidence of cocaine use during pregnancy to “coerce women into treatment programs” by threatening them with prosecution. See Laura Beth Cohen, Informing Consent: Medical Malpractice and the Criminalization of Pregnancy, 116 Mich. L. Rev. 1297, 1304–05 (2018). Hospitals and law enforcement conspired together to violate patient trust in what was something like a medical “sting operation.”119“[E]stablishing a legally imposed complicity between health care providers and the police violates the ethical code that animates the medical profession.” Schuyler Frautschi, Understanding the Public Health Policies Behind Ferguson, 27 N.Y.U. Rev. L. & Soc. Change 587, 597 (2001).

This program exploited vulnerable patients while generating negative public health impacts.120See Stephen W. Patrick & Davida M. Schiff, A Public Health Response to Opioid Use in Pregnancy, Pediatrics, Mar. 2017, at 1, 1. That is, when pregnant women worry that they can be prosecuted for drug use, they are discouraged from seeking prenatal and addiction care, which then harms them and their newborns.121See Theresa Kurtz & Marcela C. Smid, Challenges in Perinatal Drug Testing, 140 Obstetrics & Gynecology 163, 163–64 (2022). To be clear, routine drug testing of pregnant individuals does not violate the Fourth Amendment so long as it is done initially for medical purposes and with patient consent. However, the legal consequences of the consent to the blood draw or urinalysis might not be explicit, and the pervasiveness of drug testing has led one physician to ask whether it is a “policing practice masquerading as clinical care.”122Mishka Terplan, Test or Talk: Empiric Bias and Epistemic Injustice, 140 Obstetrics & Gynecology 150, 150 (2022).

Cases like Ferguson are extreme, and hopefully rare. But the police do not need to formally run sting operations within prenatal clinics to obtain confidential medical data. Instead, they can do something much more banal. So long as the data are either incidental to law enforcement or relevant to an ongoing investigation, they can just ask nurses and physicians to provide them with it. And often, health care workers comply.

A.  Cooperation by Health Care

One of the most common ways police access patient data without a warrant is to rely on nurse or physician complicity. Because the Fourth Amendment case law is messy, nurses and physicians report not being sure what the police are constitutionally allowed to do.123See Alur et al., supra note 16, at 856; see also Song, supra note 15, at 917–18. And even when they know disclosure is neither required nor permitted, health care workers have admitted to turning over confidential patient data simply because law enforcement asked.124See Bustillos v. El Paso Cnty. Hosp. Dist., 891 F.3d 214, 220 (5th Cir. 2018). One nurse reported how a police officer started asking investigative questions of a patient while he was being resuscitated.125Megan Y. Harada, Armando Lara-Millán & Lauren E. Chalwell, Policed Patients: How the Presence of Law Enforcement in the Emergency Department Impacts Medical Care, 78 Annals Emergency Med. 738, 742 (2021). She knew this was not allowed. But she noted that it can be awkward to tell a loitering cop, who is armed, to leave the radiology suites, or to stop observing lifesaving treatments.126Id.

Qualitative research has documented how physicians and nurses may divulge test results, patient treatments, and patient locations127Id. (“I’ve seen nurses divulge test results [to police] . . . physicians too . . . test results, scan results, patient treatment, where they’re going, other sorts of things which are protected health information.”). to cops because they feel pressured128Id. at 743 (“It does add an additional layer of stress to the interaction because I have to ask an armed officer to do something.”). or “cornered” by armed officers.129Id. (“I had two homicide detectives come in and they cornered me . . . They kept asking me questions, and I realized I was sharing more information than I felt comfortable with.”). This is especially apparent in bustling emergency departments where providers may feel safer having police around. A symbiotic relationship sometimes develops—in which the police protect staff from seemingly unruly patients and in turn the providers give the police access to confidential medical data.130See id. at 742, 744.

The pressure that nurses report feeling to comply with police requests is warranted. In 2017, nurse Alex Wubbels was arrested after explaining to a University of Utah cop that she could not draw blood from an unconscious patient. She told the officer that because the patient was not under arrest, there was no warrant, and the patient could not consent, she could not provide a blood sample according to the institution’s policy and interpretation of the Fourth Amendment.131Note that if the police had made a written request, the nurse would have been permitted under HIPAA, but not required, to share the patient’s data. After confirming she would not comply with his request, the cop lunged at Wubbels, forcing her into handcuffs and taking her outside while she screamed in protest.132Laurel Wamsley, Utah Nurse Arrested for Doing Her Job Reaches $500,000 Settlement, NPR: Two-Way (Nov. 1, 2017, 12:10 PM), https://www.npr.org/sections/thetwo-way/2017/11/01/561337106/utah-nurse-arrested-for-doing-her-job-reaches-500-000-settlement [https://perma.cc/HN2X-DB3Y]. She ultimately settled a suit against the university for $500,000 for battery and false imprisonment. However, the media coverage of this event will likely deter other nurses from similarly pushing back against illegal police overreach. Police have come to feel entitled to emergency room patients, as if the hospital is just an extension of what happens out on the public street.

There is great inconsistency in how cases are treated when patients allege Fourth Amendment violations against the police having access to their medical data. However, the trend seems to be to allow law enforcement to use medical data and even obtain blood samples without a warrant. And there is sadly little accountability for the health care workers who are complicit. When providers cross the line and violate patient privacy, as Ji Seon Song points out, “[o]nly in the rare case has a doctor been taken to task by the courts for assisting police officers by performing procedures,” such as when a doctor “participated in a number of forced rectal examinations.”133Song, supra note 18, at 2686 n.256 (describing United States v. Booker, 728 F.3d 535, 538 (6th Cir. 2013)).

We do not have good data on how often nurses and physicians turn over private medical data without a warrant. However, qualitative studies suggest that health care staff often comply with warrantless police requests to obtain biological samples or test results of patients without probable cause. In cases where patients are later prosecuted, they may challenge the constitutionality of the search of their medical records or the acquisition of specimens for law enforcement. But sometimes the medical data is just used to identify individuals and is never introduced at trial. In these cases, the legal remedies are quite unsatisfying.134If the data are never introduced at trial, they cannot be subject to a Fourth Amendment suppression hearing. The patient and criminal defendant would likely have to bring a private, civil tort suit for intrusion upon seclusion or against the hospital or clinic for public disclosure of private facts. These civil suits are expensive and time-consuming and a poor way to deter privacy breaches.

B.  Permissive State Laws

Another way cops gain access to patient medical data is by broadly interpreting permissive state laws. State statutes explicitly allow law enforcement to access patient data—such as toxicology or urine results in the event of a vehicle crash,135See, e.g., N.C. Gen. Stat. § 90-21.20B (2023); see also Or. Rev. Stat. Ann. § 676.260 (West, Westlaw through 2024 Regular Session of the 82nd Leg. Assemb.). prescription history to regulate controlled substances,136See, e.g., Conn. Gen. Stat. § 21a-265 (2023); see also Ohio Rev. Code Ann. § 4729.80 (LexisNexis, LEXIS through File 15 of 135th Gen. Assemb.). paramedic data on opioid overdoses for public health reporting,137See, e.g., Md. Code Ann., Health-Gen. § 13-3602 (LexisNexis, LEXIS through 2023 legislation). or positive test results for sexually transmitted disease.138See, e.g., Wash. Rev. Code § 70.02.050 (2023). But often, police use these statutes to obtain medical data for very different reasons than those contemplated by the statute.

Permissive state laws can provide a tremendous amount of wiggle room. In State v. Russo, 790 A.2d 1132 (Conn. 2002), the defendant challenged a warrantless search of his prescription history as violating the Fourth Amendment. The state responded that the search was reasonable because a Connecticut statute granted law enforcement access to prescription records in order to enforce controlled substance laws. It did not matter that the police inspected the patient records for a very different purpose—to prosecute fraud.139See State v. Russo, 790 A.2d 1132, 1142 (Conn. 2002). The court still upheld the search under a broad and deferential interpretation of the statute.

For another example, a state attorney general was investigating whether abortion clinics were performing abortions after fetal viability in violation of Kansas law.140Kan. Stat. Ann. § 65-6703 (2022). The Kansas statute permitted disclosure of patient information “to comply with the obligation to disclose the medical basis and specific medical diagnosis relied upon [for the abortion.]”141Id. When the attorney general was later being investigated himself for misconduct and harassing the clinics, the court permitted thirty complete patient medical records to be produced—from an abortion clinic, no less—despite neither the provider nor the patients being under investigation.142In re Kline, 311 P.3d 321, 332 (Kan. 2013). Broad interpretation of disclosure statutes with narrow statutory purposes provides another avenue for police access to confidential medical data.

Even when permissive statutes are deemed unconstitutional under the Fourth Amendment, police reliance on them will not always trigger exclusion at trial. That is, even when statutes specifically exclude use of the medical data, or the statute itself has been found to violate the Fourth Amendment, the prosecution might still be allowed to rely on the data in a criminal trial if the police can show they were confused, and relied on the statute in “good faith.”143See Matthew Tokson & Michael Gentithes, The Reality of the Good Faith Exception, 113 Geo. L.J. (forthcoming 2025) (manuscript at 4), https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4414248 [https://perma.cc/5NSR-6JBH]; State v. Eads, 154 N.E.3d 538, 541, 549 (Ohio Ct. App. 2020). The latitude shown to law enforcement in these contexts is astounding.

C.  HIPAA Exceptions

In addition to state confidentiality provisions, most readers will be familiar with the Privacy Rule of the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (“HIPAA”).144Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act, 42 U.S.C. § 1320d-1. This federal law requires that covered entities like health care providers and insurance companies obtain the patient’s authorization before sharing their protected health information (“PHI”).145Id. Protected health information is anything identifying an individual, created or received by a health care provider that relates “to the past, present, or future physical or mental health or condition of an individual, the provision of health care to an individual, or the past, present, or future payment for the provision of health care to an individual.”146Id. § 1320d.

HIPAA is often invoked as the universal health privacy protector. But it poses almost no obstacles to the police use of medical data.147See U.S. Dep’t of Health & Hum. Servs. Office for C.R., COVID-19 and HIPAA: Disclosures to Law Enforcement, Paramedics, Other First Responders and Public Health Authorities 1–2 (2020), https://www.hhs.gov/sites/default/files/covid-19-hipaa-and-first-responders-508.pdf [https://perma.cc/4QDB-5G65]. For starters, the police themselves are not a “covered entity,” so once medical data resides with them, they are not subjected to HIPAA privacy or security rules.148United States v. Prentice, 683 F. Supp. 2d 991, 1001 (D. Minn. 2010). And even when the police request PHI from a hospital or other covered entity, the Privacy Rule permits disclosure to them for a broad variety of reasons, and without judicial involvement. For example, disclosure is permitted (1) if a state law permits it (such as the statutes above mandating disclosure of opioid overdoses), or (2) to respond to a court order, warrant, subpoena,149See Booth v. City of Dallas, 312 F.R.D. 427, 431 (N.D. Tex. 2015). or summons issued by a judge or grand jury.150Layna C. Rush, The HIPAA Privacy Rule and Disclosures of Health or Medical Information to Law Enforcement, Champion, July 2022, at 42, 45 (2022). Perhaps most broadly, HIPAA allows covered entities to share PHI (3) to respond to an administrative subpoena or written statement by police that specifies how the request is “relevant and material” to an investigation.151Id. at 44.

The only limit on these administrative requests is that they must be limited in scope “to the extent reasonably practicable in light of the purpose for which the information is sought” and “[d]e-identified information could not reasonably be used.”15245 C.F.R. § 164.512(f)(1)(ii)(C) (2023). This squishy language from the Privacy Rule seemingly does not employ any balancing test. If law enforcement has made a request that asks for information that is relevant and material (a low bar) and the request fits within one of the stated uses, then HIPAA will allow it.153“HIPPA regulations themselves make clear that any privacy interest patients have in their medical records is trumped by a grand jury subpoena that is ‘relevant and material to a legitimate law enforcement inquiry.’ ” In re Grand Jury Subpoena John Doe No. A01-209, 197 F. Supp. 2d 512, 515 (E.D. Va. 2002).

Because hospitals need not publicly report when they disclose PHI to law enforcement, we have no idea how often the police use this backdoor route.154James W. Hazel & Christopher Slobogin, “A World of Difference”? Law Enforcement, Genetic Data, and the Fourth Amendment, 70 Duke L.J. 705, 733–34 (2021). The exception is a gigantic loophole. If nurses and physicians incorrectly interpret this exception as requiring rather than permitting disclosure of PHI, it could result in much less privacy protection against government disclosure than the drafters envisioned. And even if they interpret it correctly, the exception permits law enforcement to have access to confidential medical information any time it might be useful to their criminal investigations. They do not need a warrant. They do not even need a subpoena.

Unfortunately, in addition to allowing quite a lot of unconsented-to disclosures, trial courts interpreting these HIPAA exceptions sometimes read them to suggest that they preempt common law or constitutional privacy requirements.155See, e.g., Consuelo v. State, 613 S.W.3d 330, 333 (Tex. App. 2020) (finding there was no Fourth Amendment problem in later using a patient’s medical data in a grand jury proceeding because “the release of those results did not violate HIPAA”). Thus, if something is permitted under HIPAA, some trial courts treat it as permissible under various tort theories156Because HIPAA has exceptions, a patient’s right to privacy is not “absolute” and thus must be balanced against the law enforcement need. United States v. Elliott, 676 F. Supp. 2d 431, 439 (D. Md. 2009). and the Fourth Amendment. This is an error, as the Privacy Rule applies to a very narrow context of covered entities and was never meant to be coterminous with preexisting privacy rights.157See Jennifer Clark, HIPAA As an Evidentiary Rule? An Analysis of Miguel M. and Its Impact, 26 J.L. & Health 1, 4 (2013); Byrne v. Avery Ctr. for Obstetrics & Gynecology, 102 A.3d 32, 36 (Conn. 2014) (concluding that HIPAA does not preempt common law privacy claims, but can be evidence of the standard of care); R.K. v. St. Mary’s Med. Ctr., Inc., 735 S.E.2d 715, 722–23 (W. Va. 2012). However, confusion about HIPAA’s application is rampant. This may lead cops, health care workers, and patients to think that it replaces common law privacy protections and gives the final say on what may legally be disclosed.158See Stacey A. Tovino, Complying with the HIPAA Privacy Rule: Problems and Perspectives, 1 Loy. U. Chi. J. Regul. Compliance 23, 39 (2016). It is counterintuitive and troubling that a statute meant to expand confidentiality over medical data is likely having the opposite effect.

Additionally, if the disclosure of a suspect’s medical data was unauthorized under HIPAA, that does not automatically lead to suppression in a related criminal trial.159State v. Straehler, 745 N.W.2d 431, 437 (Wis. Ct. App. 2007). Conversely, if the disclosure was permitted under HIPAA, it might still violate a defendant’s Fourth Amendment rights. If the medical data does need to be introduced at trial, it could be suppressed if the police are found to have conducted an unreasonable search under the Fourth Amendment. This risk might be why the police are increasingly relying on nondefendants’ medical data. Nondefendant’s medical data poses no risks of suppression or Fourth Amendment violations.

When seeking genetic data to identify suspects, police can rely on “close enough” genetic matches by requesting the medical data of a suspect’s children, siblings, or even cousins. They can then use the biological sample from the suspect’s relative to connect the suspect to the crime scene through familial matching. When done this way, the investigative use of a relative’s genetic material might never see the light of day at trial and may never need to be introduced. Because the remedy for a Fourth Amendment violation is suppression at trial, if the relative whose specimen was tested by police is never criminally charged, the relative would need to seek redress by filing a civil rights violation under Section 1983 of Title 42 of the U.S. Code.16042 U.S.C. § 1983. In addition to being time-consuming and expensive, the evidentiary hurdles are quite high.161To overcome the claim of qualified immunity, petitioners must show that defendant’s actions violated a “clearly established” Fourth Amendment right. See, e.g., Suttles v. Butler, 564 F. Supp. 3d 1317, 1327 (N.D. Ga. 2021). And these civil proceedings would have no impact on the related conviction. This renders the legal guardrails against police overreach in this context insufficient.

In the previous Section, I explained how there are few legal hurdles to law enforcement accessing private patient data. Specifically, the way the Fourth Amendment has been interpreted, provider compliance, and broad HIPAA exceptions permit a great deal of police access to confidential medical data. Additionally, even when police overreach, the remedies that are available are insufficient to fully protect patient privacy. In the next Section, I describe why police access to medical data has the potential to do so much violence to the physician-patient relationship and core principles of medical ethics.

III.  THE GUN AND THE STETHOSCOPE: TWO VERY DIFFERENT CULTURES

Conscripting clinicians to do the bidding of law enforcement is lamentable for a number of reasons. This is because the goals of law enforcement are diametrically opposed to the goals of health care. Consider the most common symbols of each profession. For physicians, it is the stethoscope, which amplifies the patient’s body and allows its rhythms to be heard. Now, consider the symbol of policing in the U.S.—the gun, which is violent and silencing. While these two professions embody more than can be encapsulated by these two symbols, the stethoscope and the gun reflect deep concrete and metaphorical differences between the two institutions. These differences are reflected in their values, ethics, and in the community’s expectations of them.

But let us start with how they are similar, and then we can highlight their significant differences. First, doctors and cops are both considered part of the helping professions. Each owes fiduciary obligations to the people they serve, which in theory, are built on trust. They both wield tremendous power over vulnerable populations, given their status as gatekeepers to important social goods. However, mounting awareness of the disparities experienced at their hands has led to reduced trust in both professions.

In practically every other way, there could not be two more different institutions. Health care is about healing and promoting evidence-based measures, while protecting patient autonomy, privacy, and health care accountability. Law enforcement is not about healing, does not promulgate evidence-based measures, and frequently disrespects individual autonomy and privacy, while dodging most forms of legal accountability. Some have argued for police to adopt a “culture of health” to improve their policing, and perhaps they should.162Evan Anderson & Scott Burris, Policing and Public Health: Not Quite the Right Analogy, 27 Policing & Soc’y, 300, 308–09 (2017). But it cannot operate the other way. That is, the culture of medicine cannot be infected with the culture of policing. I will now explore various case studies of police intruding into health care. Each example reveals the diametrically opposed norms and ethics of each profession, and why this creates a strong argument for their being kept separate.

A.  Different Self-Regulation Norms

In the last century, fueled in part by complicity in the Nazi concentration camps, physicians have developed and internalized sweeping reforms to their codes of ethics.163See Janet L. Dolgin & Lois L. Shepherd, Bioethics and the Law 45, 435 (2d ed. 2009). Emerging from this grisly past, physicians have documented many instances of their abuses of power. Principles of respect for autonomy, nonmaleficence, privacy, accountability, and justice have since been incorporated not only into the medical school curriculum, but also into the fabric of how hospitals and clinics should be run.164Tom L. Beauchamp, Principlism in Bioethics, in Bioethical Decision Making and Argumentation 1, 4–5 (Pedro Serna & José-Antonio Seoane eds., 2016).

These ideals are not consistently realized, and sometimes they are pit against one another. However, because the principles of autonomy, privacy, accountability, and nonmaleficence are near-absolute, when physicians fail to realize them, these norms are likely to be regulated by the physicians and hospitals themselves—even in the absence of any legal liability. As compared with law enforcement, physicians extensively self-regulate through governing bodies and professional associations.165Howard Bauchner, Phil B. Fontanarosa & Amy E. Thompson, Professionalism, Governance, and Self-Regulation of Medicine, 313 JAMA 1831, 1831 (2015). And of course, on top of their self-regulation, if physicians breach confidentiality, fail to obtain patient consent, or cause harm through their negligence, they are frequently civilly sued and held accountable for malpractice.

When it comes to honesty, almost seventy percent (69%) of Americans now rate the honesty and ethical standards of physicians as “very high” or “high.”166Blendon et al., supra note 94, at 1570. Most, but certainly not all, Americans feel safe entrusting our physicians with sensitive health information about ourselves or our family members that we would never willingly give to the cops. This did not happen by accident. This is the result of decades of developing cultures of honesty and disclosure.167See generally, Bryan Sisk, Richard Frankel, Eric Kodish, J. Harry Isaacson, The Truth about Truth-Telling in American Medicine: A Brief History, Permanente J., 2016 Summer, at 74. Overall, trust in clinicians in the U.S. remains relatively high, though it could and should be much higher, particularly among the most socially disadvantaged groups.168Field et al., supra note 52, at 21–22.

By contrast, police rarely hold themselves accountable for the violence that they perpetrate, which is often not just careless, but intentional.169“Even when a citizen files a complaint, many police departments fail to actually investigate these complaints, especially when the complaint alleges excessive force.” See Robert M. Bloom & Nina Labovich, The Challenge of Deterring Bad Police Behavior: Implementing Reforms That Hold Police Accountable, 71 Case W. Rsrv. L. Rev. 923, 938–39 (2021). If anything, police culture “tolerate[s] and encourages” misconduct by framing things in terms of “us versus them”—where a certain amount of brutality is considered necessary to protect law enforcement from the communities they serve.170Kami Chavis Simmons, New Governance and the “New Paradigm” of Police Accountability: A Democratic Approach to Police Reform, 59 Cath. U. L. Rev. 373, 381–82 (2010).

And when it comes to honesty, rather than regularly exposing mistakes, as is done during medical peer review meetings, cops are discouraged from disclosing misconduct or perjury by fellow officers. This practice of solidarity has been referred to as the “blue wall of silence.”171See Aziz Z. Huq & Richard H. McAdams, Litigating the Blue Wall of Silence: How to Challenge the Police Privilege to Delay Investigation, 2016 U. Chi. Legal F. 213, 213, 218 (2016). This code of silence and resulting lack of transparency makes it difficult to identify problem officers and widespread corruption. Experts who have examined root causes of police misconduct have concluded that “the roots of police misconduct rest primarily within the organizational culture of policing.”172Simmons, supra note 170, at 381.

To the extent police officers support ethical codes of conduct, they appear to do so instrumentally to prosecute crime. And perhaps this makes sense because they are accountable to the public, and not to individuals. That is, respect for autonomy does not appear to be an end in itself, but a means of having a better rapport with the community and increasing crime clearance rates. Conversely, in medicine, there are precious few actions a clinician can take that violate a competent individual’s autonomy, because autonomy is a deontological obligation that clinicians are bound to uphold. These different institutional values and goals lead to very different patient expectations of clinicians and cops. If cops intrude on clinical spaces in ways that violate autonomy, patients may worry that physicians will do the same—and indeed they might at police behest.

B.  Different Privacy Norms

Cops and clinicians also have very different norms around privacy and confidentiality. Patient privacy is considered by the American Medical Association (“AMA”) to be “fundamental, as an expression of respect for patient autonomy and a prerequisite for trust.”173AMA Code of Medical Ethics Opinion 3.1.1: Privacy in Health Care, Am. Med. Ass’n, https://www.ama-assn.org/delivering-care/ethics/privacy-health-care [https://perma.cc/MM9P-VNHX]. The AMA Code of Ethics even spells out the different zones of privacy that physicians must respect: physical space, personal data, decisional privacy, and associational privacy.174Id. Ethically, physicians should inform patients when their privacy has been breached, separate from any legal obligations.

Physicians also have common law fiduciary obligations for “confidences communicated by a patient [to] be held as a trust.”175Sorensen v. Barbuto, 143 P.3d 295, 299 (Utah Ct. App. 2006) (quoting Hammonds v. Aetna Cas. & Sur. Co., 243 F. Supp. 793, 803 (N.D. Ohio 1965)). Texas law stresses that due to the “highly personal nature of [medical] information[,] [it] places a heavy responsibility on the trial court to prevent any disclosure that is broader than necessary.”176In re Barnes, 655 S.W.3d 658, 672 (Tex. App. 2022) (quoting R.K. v. Ramirez, 887 S.W.2d 836, 844 (Tex. 1994)). And every state has now created a statutory physician-patient privilege of some form that prohibits disclosure of statements17745 Am. Jur. Proof of Facts 2d Protected Communication Between Physician and Patient § 2 (1986) [hereinafter Protected Communication] (“[T]he privilege that now exists by that name in all jurisdictions is entirely a creature of statute.”). and medical records178See Wanda Ellen Wakefield, Annotation, Physician-Patient Privilege as Extending to Patient’s Medical or Hospital Records, 10 A.L.R.4th 552 (1981). in court without the patient’s consent.179Jayne v. Smith, 124 N.Y.S.3d 714, 717 (N.Y. App. Div. 2020). The privilege promotes “free and full communication between a patient and his doctor so that the doctor will have the information necessary to competently diagnose and treat the patient.”180Slaughter v. Des Moines Univ. Coll. of Osteopathic Med., 925 N.W.2d 793, 802 (Iowa 2019) (citing Fagen v. Grand View Univ., 861 N.W.2d 825, 831–32 (Iowa 2015)). Indeed, courts have warned against jeopardizing the “sanctity” of the physician-patient relationship by divulging patient information to third-parties.181See, e.g., Petrillo v. Syntex Lab’ys, Inc., 499 N.E.2d 952, 957 (Ill. App. Ct. 1986). Others have stated that “the patient [has] the power to reveal the private information to the persons the patient chooses, reinforcing the [physician-patient] privilege’s policy of patient autonomy and privacy.”182Morris v. Brandenburg, 376 P.3d 836, 850 (N.M. 2016) (quoting State v. Roper, 921 P.2d 322, 326 (N.M. Ct. App. 1996)). It is difficult to square these unequivocal statements with granting cops broad access to sensitive medical information, just because they ask.

If patients do not trust that their communications will be private, they will keep secrets from their doctors that will frustrate their care.183Protected Communication, supra note 177, at § 2. Even worse, they may refuse to seek important prenatal or emergency care altogether. Additionally, confidentiality fosters a feeling of safety and sanctuary between patients and physicians, which signals that, as it relates to the physician’s goals, the needs of the patient are paramount even to those of society.

People (sometimes reluctantly) must also share sensitive and humiliating information with cops. Even so, there are no norms of confidentiality in law enforcement. There are also no common law, statutory, or evidentiary requirements that information shared with police be kept confidential. If anything, in law enforcement, the norms generally run in the opposite direction.

Witnesses largely lose control over their testimony when it becomes part of an investigative record. For example, Chanel Miller recounts in her beautiful memoir, Know My Name, how painful it was to realize that intimate photos of her naked, assaulted body would be shared in a crowded courtroom during the prosecution of Brock Turner.184Chanel Miller, Know My Name: A Memoir 169–70 (2019). Once the police are involved, the victim’s images are no longer private.185 See, e.g., People v. Hines, 833 N.Y.S.2d 721, 724 (N.Y. App. Div. 2007); see also Casey v. State, 160 S.W.3d 218, 225 (Tex. App. 2005), rev’d on other grounds, 215 S.W.3d 870 (Tex. Crim. App. 2007) (close-up photographs of victim’s enlarged clitoris and vagina were deemed appropriately admitted as prosecutorial exhibits). This is true regardless of how sensitive or embarrassing those images or statements might be. This is not to say that the police are unethical—this is just to say that their code of ethics do not include honoring confidentiality.

1.  Police Search Clinical Laboratories and Biobanks

Genetic information is one of the most sensitive types of information connected to us: it reveals predictive information about our future health and our relatives, it does not change over time, and we are only scratching the surface of what it all means.186Teneille R. Brown, Double Helix, Double Standards: Private Matters and Public People, 11 J. Health Care L. & Pol’y 295, 313 (2008). Recognizing that genetic material is highly sensitive, but might be used nefariously, Congress passed a federal statute in 2008 to restrict its use in the provision or pricing of health insurance.187Genetic Information Nondiscrimination Act of 2008, Pub. L. No. 110-233, 122 Stat. 881 (codified in scattered sections of 42 U.S.C.). Despite its extensive protection in health care, genetic information receives meager confidentiality safeguards when used by cops. The Fourth Amendment jurisprudence has shockingly analogized discarded genetic samples to trash, permitting its warrantless seizure.188See California v. Greenwood, 486 U.S. 35, 41–43 (1988).

Given the value of genetic samples to solving crime, it is no wonder police use of genetic material from health care databases is so common. In 2005, police in Kansas subpoenaed a DNA sample from a woman’s pap smear to connect her father to a string of murders. Through the use of her medical sample (which had been held in a Kansas health clinic), without her notice or consent,189Colin McFerrin, Note, DNA, Genetic Material, and a Look at Property Rights: Why You May Be Your Brother’s Keeper, 19 Tex. Wesleyan L. Rev. 967, 974 (2013). the police confirmed that her father, Dennis Rader, was likely the BTK serial killer.190Ari Shapiro, Police Use DNA to Track Suspects Through Family, NPR (Dec. 12, 2007, 12:27 AM), https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=17130501 [https://perma.cc/3RCN-H783]. This connection gave them probable cause to arrest the suspect. Rader was later convicted of ten counts of first-degree murder.191Mark Hansen, How the Cops Caught BTK, 92 ABA J. 45, 45 (2006).

2.  Police Search Public Health Newborn Screening Genetic Databases

Recently in New Jersey, a child’s genetic sample—also obtained in a health care setting—was used to implicate her father in a sexual assault.192Nathan H. Lents, Use of Familial DNA in an Investigation Can Be Intrusive. But a Middle Ground Is Possible. NBC News (Aug. 21, 2022, 1:30 AM), https://www.nbcnews.com/think/opinion/new-jersey-polices-use-babys-dna-undermines-publics-trust-rcna43996 [https://perma.cc/4WYG-V9AC]. The child, who is now nine years old, had her heel stuck by hospital staff when she would have been just a couple of days old.193See Ram, supra note 19, at 1259. The heel stick was part of New Jersey’s mandatory newborn screening program, which blends together individualized patient care with public health goals.194See What is the Purpose of Newborn Screening?, Nat’l Inst. of Health, https://www.nichd.nih.gov/health/topics/newborn/conditioninfo/purpose [https://perma.cc/6CTN-8N6M]; see also How Many Newborns Are Screened in the United States, Nat’l Inst. of Health, https://www.nichd.nih.gov/health/topics/newborn/conditioninfo/infants-screened [https://perma.cc/55C2-S5ER] (reporting “[m]ost states report participation of 99.9% or higher”). Because the database is maintained for public health reasons, the consent process is not as robust as it is in regular clinical decisions.195 Ram, supra note 19, at 1261–62. In the absence of a formal refusal, hospital staff collect the blood samples on filter paper that they use to test the baby for dozens of serious, hidden diseases. The residual samples are often maintained in public health facilities.196See, e.g., id. at 1255; Nakita Biryukov, Newborn Screening Program Used to Aid Criminal Investigation, Public Defender Says, N.J. Monitor (July 13, 2022, 7:44 AM), https://newjerseymonitor.com/2022/07/13/newborn-screening-program-used-to-aid-criminal-investigation-public-defender-says [https://perma.cc/75V8-LCZE]; Julie Watts, CA Still Storing Newborn DNA Without Consent. Golden State Killer Case Raising New Concerns, CBS News: Sacramento (Dec. 7, 2020, 1:09 PM), https://www.cbsnews.com/sacramento/news/newborn-dna-california-consent-gsk-killer [https://perma.cc/Z2TT-VXDV].

In the New Jersey case, law enforcement suspected that the child’s father had committed a sexual assault.197Biryukov, supra note 196. When they realized he had a child in New Jersey, they accessed the child’s state newborn screening database without a warrant. A comparison of the crime scene DNA and the blood on the screening card revealed the newborn to be a first-degree relative of the perpetrator. This gave them the probable cause they needed to arrest the father for the assault.198Id.

News of this prompted a lawsuit by the New Jersey Office of the Public Defender against the Department of Health (which maintains the screening cards).199Verified Complaint at 1, N.J. Office of the Pub. Def. v. N.J. Dep’t of Health, No. MER-L-001210-22 (N.J. Super. Ct. App. Div. July 11, 2022), https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/22084922-nj-office-of-the-public-defender-et-al-vs-department-of-health-et-al [https://perma.cc/GA5D-KB68]. The complaint asserted that parents are not told that their child’s DNA will be placed in this database and potentially used by law enforcement. The litigation resulted in the state admitting to using the newborn bloodspots, without parental consent, in at least five other cases that resulted in prosecutions. Legislators in New Jersey proposed a bill in 2022 to prohibit the use of newborn blood spots for criminal investigations without parents’ affirmative consent, but the bill has stalled in committee.200Dana Difilippo, New Bill Would Limit Police Use of DNA Collected from Newborn Blood Screening, N.J. Monitor (Sept. 28, 2022, 7:00 AM), https://newjerseymonitor.com/2022/09/28/new-bill-would-limit-police-use-of-dna-collected-from-newborn-blood-screening [https://perma.cc/EZ4C-K55D]; Dana Difilippo, Judge Orders State to Release Information About Police Use of Baby Blood Spots, N.J. Monitor (Jan. 4, 2023, 11:41 AM), https://newjerseymonitor.com/2023/01/04/judge-orders-state-to-release-information-about-police-use-of-baby-blood-spots [https://perma.cc/R8DV-LYDN].

For Fourth Amendment purposes, the lack of any consent for secondary law enforcement use makes this case very different from the use of a public genetic database, called GEDMatch, to apprehend the Golden State Killer in 2018.201See Teneille R. Brown, Why We Fear Genetic Informants: Using Genetic Genealogy to Catch Serial Killers, 21 Colum. Sci. & Tech. L. Rev. 1, 15–16, 44 (2019). So-called forensic genetic genealogy relies on public genetic databases, in which users voluntarily upload their genetic information from Ancestry.com or 23andMe to facilitate their personal genealogical research. This was also how police identified the man who murdered four college students at the University of Idaho.202Heather Tal Murphy, How Police Actually Cracked the Idaho Killings Case, Slate (Jan. 10, 2023, 6:19 PM), https://slate.com/technology/2023/01/bryan-kohberger-university-idaho-murders-forensic-genealogy.html [https://perma.cc/NUG4-YWRS].

In this case, however, parents were not uploading their child’s genetic profiles to a public website for recreational purposes. Rather, the genetic newborn screening bloodspots were obtained in a hospital, exclusively for medical purposes. This draws hospital staff into the prosecutorial process in a very different way.

Because the newborn screening program is not completely voluntary, and parents usually must affirmatively opt out rather than opt in,203See Kanuszewski v. Shah, 627 F. Supp. 3d 832, 836 (E.D. Mich. 2022), vacated in part, 636 F. Supp. 3d 781 (E.D. Mich. 2022) (“[E]very state should—but does not—require ‘an opt-in approach’ to obtain parents’ informed consent for posttesting use, disposal, and access of their children’s blood.”). there should be no unconsented-to secondary uses of this data. It only takes one highly publicized instance of misuse, such as in the New Jersey case, to deter parents from participating in the screening program. If parents opt out, newborns will lose the huge benefit of detecting rare diseases that can be fatal if untreated.204See Newborn Screening Process, Health Res. & Servs. Admin., https://newbornscreening.hrsa.gov/newborn-screening-process [https://perma.cc/6LF4-9ZAW]. Given that overpolicing and distrust is already more rampant in communities of color, there is reason to worry that blurring the public health goals of newborn screening with the prosecutorial goals of criminal investigations will cause greater health disparities.

Some may argue that the use of newborn screening bloodspots is justified, on an instrumentalist account. On this view, the data is just sitting there in a warehouse, waiting to serve the public and identify rapists, murderers, and other “bad” people. In response to this, I offer two thoughts. First, we ought not to concede that the inquiry is a consequentialist one, as opposed to holding firm in the obligations to keep medical data private. And second, even on the instrumentalist account, it is not clear that providing cops access to genetic newborn screening databases will yield net benefits to society. Are dozens of children dying from preventable diseases obviously worth less than a murder prosecution? The life of a child who dies because his parents opted out of the screening program is just as valuable as the life of a murder victim for whom the police seek justice. The public should be able to debate the competing values of these institutions, rather than the prosecutorial goals always trumping those of public health.

Additionally, the police may not be able to handle these sensitive specimens in a way that adequately maintains confidentiality.205See Ram, supra note 19, at 1310–1311. The storage, labeling, and transfer of genomic materials is highly regulated in health care settings and laboratories.206See The Clinical Laboratory Improvement Amendments of 1988, Pub. L. No. 100-578, 102 Stat. 2903 (codified as amended at 42 U.S.C. § 263a (2012)). Because data stored by law enforcement is not subject to health privacy or clinical laboratory regulations, medical data could find its way into an investigative police file, and be treated far too cavalierly.207See Nathaniel P. Mark, A Qualified Right to Remain Silent: Health Care Providers’ Obligations Under HIPAA in Response to Criminal Investigations, S.C. Law., Jan. 2013, at 14, 17.

This fear is not exaggerated. In San Francisco in 2016, a woman provided her DNA to police as part of a sexual assault rape kit. Without her knowledge or consent, in 2021, police used her genetic sample to charge her with retail theft.208Eduardo Medina, Woman Sues San Francisco Over Arrest Based on DNA From Her Rape Kit, N.Y. Times (Sept. 13, 2022), https://www.nytimes.com/2022/09/13/us/rape-kit-dna-san-francisco.html [https://perma.cc/67TP-6EXX]. This horrific use of her genetic information reveals the lack of respect for privacy in law enforcement. Once they have your data for one purpose, they may feel entitled to use it however they please. And just as we worry that parents will opt out of newborn screenings if they think their samples are accessible to law enforcement, sexual assault victims are now given yet another reason not to report their assault to police.

All of this blurring of genetic data with law enforcement occurs amidst considerable police secrecy. We do not know how often police access medical or public health databases; law enforcement does not report this.209Vilius Dranseika, Jan Piasecki & Marcin Waligora, Forensic Uses of Research Biobanks: Should Donors Be Informed?, 19 Med. Health Care & Phil. 141, 142 (2016). This is an additional difference between cops and clinicians. Clinicians are much more likely to report on their own internal practices, either due to accreditation requirements or because of their civil commitment to transparency. Cops, on the other hand, tend to be very secretive about their own internal processes—using privacy as a shield and sword when it comes to their own institutional data.

C.  Different Accountability Norms

One reason for the different privacy norms has to do with who each profession sees as their “client.” Medical institutions must address social injustice at the policy level. However, individual physicians do not owe duties to society generally when making treatment decisions.210See Charles L. Sprung, Leonid A. Eidelman & Avraham Steinberg, Is the Physician’s Duty to the Individual Patient or to Society? 23 Critical Care Med. 618, 618–620 (1995). Instead, their duty is to the individual patient.211See Basil Varkey, Principles of Clinical Ethics and Their Application to Practice, 30 Med. Principles & Prac. 17, 18 (2021). This has been enshrined in some states’ common law. For example, physicians in Arizona owe a fiduciary duty to their patients “to exercise the utmost good faith” and to “act in the best interests of his patient so as to protect the sanctity of the physician-patient relationship.”212Duquette v. Superior Ct., 778 P.2d 634, 640 (Ariz. Ct. App. 1989).

This focus on the individual can create conflict between medical and public health ethics. For example, during pandemics, governments might ask physicians to allocate scarce resources like ventilators or antivirals to serve population health. Because physicians see themselves as agents for individual patient care and not as instruments of public health, having to do this caused some physicians moral distress.213Teneille R. Brown, When the Wrong People Are Immune, J.L. & Biosciences, Jan.–June 2020, at 1, 8–9.

1.  Police Are Increasingly Unaccountable to Private Individuals and the Public They Serve

To law enforcement, conversely, the client is the public, not any one individual. The first sentence of the International Association of Chiefs of Police Code of Ethics states that the police officer’s “fundamental duty is to serve mankind.”21437 Tex. Admin. Code § 1.112 (“[M]y fundamental duty is to serve mankind . . . .”). There is also some toxic masculinity in the Code, such as: “I will . . . maintain courageous calm in the face of danger . . . .” Id. Police success is measured in terms of public safety statistics measured at the population level. The utilitarian framework contributes to an ideology of police being unaccountable to individuals for the harms they cause.

The unaccountability of law enforcement plays out directly in negligence law, where police are often immunized from liability under the “public duty doctrine.”215See Bassett v. Lamantia, 858 F.3d 1201, 1203 (9th Cir. 2017); see also Buck v. City of Highland Park, 733 F. App’x 248, 255 (6th Cir. 2018) (explaining the need for a preexisting special relationship for cops to owe a duty to individual citizens). This common law doctrine varies a bit from state to state. However, it essentially holds that cops cannot be held liable for an injury if they fail to perform a duty, and the duty is “owed to the general public rather than to an individual plaintiff.”216Bassett, 858 F.3d at 1203 (quoting Gatlin-Johnson v. City of Miles City, 291 P.3d 1129, 1132 (Mont. 2012)); see also Buck, 733 F. App’x at 255. For police to owe a duty to affirmatively act to protect an individual, some special, pre-injury relationship must exist between the cop and the injured party, the injured party must be in custody, or the cop must have created detrimental reliance.217See Faucheaux v. Provo City, 343 P.3d 288, 294 (Utah Ct. App. 2015). Even grossly negligent failures by a cop may not be considered a basis for tort liability, as cops are protected by the discretionary nature of their decision, the public duty doctrine, and other government immunity provisions.218See Michael Locklear, Parents of Lauren McCluskey Sue State of Utah with Hopes to Overturn Police Immunity, KUTV News (June 8, 2020, 2:58 PM), https://kutv.com/news/local/parents-of-lauren-mccluskey-sue-state-hope-to-overturn-police-immunity [https://perma.cc/9F6N-WN4Q] (explaining how Utah’s government immunity statute and tort law doctrine protects police from negligence and gross negligence liability).

The common law doctrine of qualified immunity further shields the police from individual liability for constitutional rights claims unless the officials violated “clearly established law.”219Joanna C. Schwartz, How Qualified Immunity Fails, 127 Yale L.J. 2, 66 (2017). The specter of immunity impacts the likelihood that individuals will even file suit.220Id. at 10. Qualified immunity for civil rights violations has received well-deserved criticism in recent years due to media coverage of appallingly high levels of police killings.221L. Darnell Weeden, Exploring Protest Rights, Unreasonable Police Conduct, and Qualified Immunity, 45 T. Marshall L. Rev. 167, 169 (2021); Harper Neidig & Marty Johnson, Police Reform Fight Hinges on Qualified Immunity, Hill (May 25, 2021, 6:00 AM), http://thehill.com/homenews/house/555172-police-reform-fight-hinges-on-qualified-immunity [http://perma.cc/2NUT-TR89]. Shielding police from civil lawsuits in all but a tiny fraction of cases, the doctrine “serves as a barrier to incentivizing police officers to do better when dealing with the public.”222Bryan Castro, Note, Can You Please Send Someone Who Can Help? How Qualified Immunity Stops the Improvement of Police Response to Domestic Violence and Mental Health Calls, 16 Harv. L. & Pol’y Rev. 581, 584 (2022).

This patchwork of immunities reveals a picture of police that are increasingly unaccountable to the public they serve. This led one judge to write that “liability for municipal employees is effectively dead.”223Borelli v. Renaldi, 243 A.3d 1064, 1105 (Conn. 2020) (Ecker, J., dissenting). Meanwhile, the duties of medical professionals are expanding to protect nonpatients and unnamed third-parties the physicians have never met.224See Maas v. UPMC Presbyterian Shadyside, 234 A.3d 427, 439 (Pa. 2020).

These opposite trajectories bear emphasizing. In the last fifty years, physicians, nurses, and therapists have seen sharp increases in their liability through expanding notions of negligence obligations.225Teneille R. Brown, Needles, Haystacks and Next-Generation Genetic Sequencing, 28 Health Matrix 217, 231 (2018) (recognizing duties to nonpatients); see also B.R. ex rel. Jeffs v. West, 275 P.3d 228, 229 (Utah 2012); Safer v. Est. of Pack, 677 A.2d 1188, 1192 (N.J. Super. Ct. App. Div. 1996). Physicians in Pennsylvania have duties to protect or warn a patient’s neighbors, even when they have never met them or know their names. Somewhat paradoxically, physicians have been asked to pay for accidents that may even be principally caused by law enforcement. I will explain how this came to be, below.

2.  Physician Accountability to the Public Is Expanding

The landmark case of Tarasoff v. University of California, 551 P.2d 334 (Cal. 1976), is an important illustration of the asymmetrical obligations owed to the public by health care professionals and law enforcement.226Tarasoff v. Regents of Univ. of Cal., 551 P.2d 334, 339–40 (Cal. 1976). Because it was a key factor in the erosion between health care and law enforcement, I will go into a bit of detailing describing the case here. In Tarasoff, a young man named Prosenjit Poddar brutally killed fellow Berkeley student Tatiana Tarasoff. In Poddar’s criminal trial, the family discovered that Poddar’s therapist had breached confidentiality—risking tort liability—to report Poddar to local law enforcement. The therapist was concerned for the unnamed woman (Tatiana) whom his client had admitted he wanted to harm. Discovering this, Tatiana’s parents then sued the police, the university, and the individual therapist who had treated Poddar in negligence—for failing to warn their daughter of Poddar’s threats.

The facts of this case are quite remarkable. When the therapist called the campus police, the police detained Poddar and then let him go because he “appeared rational.”227Id. The police were sued but were given statutory immunity because their decision to release Poddar was part of their public duties and was discretionary. The court reasoned this was appropriate because courts should not be second-guessing the executive branch.228Id. at 349–50.

The therapist, on the other hand, was found to have a duty to protect Tatiana. The California Supreme Court suggested that the therapist was careless for not figuring out that Poddar’s target was Tatiana, and then personally reaching out to warn her. How the therapist was reasonably supposed to do this in the 1970s, without Google or Tatiana’s contact information, much less any training in risk assessment or violence prevention, remains a mystery.

An oft-cited section from the opinion states that patient-psychotherapist confidentiality “must yield to the extent to which disclosure is essential to avert danger to others. The protective privilege ends where the public peril begins.”229Id. at 347. Many follies in the co-opting of medical privacy to serve law enforcement goals may be traced to this opinion, and this singular sentence. Even the HIPAA exception that permits unauthorized disclosure if someone threatens themselves or others is referred to as the “Tarasoff exception.”230John H. Dunkle, Zachary B. Silverstein & Scott L. Warner, Managing Violent and Other Troubling Students: The Role of Threat Assessment Teams on Campus, 34 J.C. & U.L. 585, 632 (2008).

After Tarasoff, judges extended affirmative duties to warn nonpatients to social workers and physicians. Clinicians may be liable for negligence if they do not violate patient confidentiality to prevent imminent, serious bodily harm to an identifiable person.231Brown supra note 225, at 233. While physicians already had duties to report infectious diseases, Tarasoff can be viewed as creating a sea change in creating broad obligations for therapists, and then other clinicians, to protect the public health and safety. Unsurprisingly, therapists really dislike being asked to violate patient confidentiality to disclose imminent risks to third parties, as they worry it chills therapeutic speech and can stymie treatment. It also runs counter to principles of beneficence—the ethical duty to prioritize the interests of their individual patients.

The Tarasoff majority created new duties for therapists by exploiting the special relationship between the therapist and patient and using it to generate duties to people outside of that relationship.232Id. Put differently, the court took the very things that made therapeutic relationships special and sacrosanct—confidentiality and trust—and exploited them for law enforcement goals. Many take this “special relationship” argument at face value and assume that because the therapist had a trusting relationship with the murderer, this naturally led to his owing a duty to the murderer’s victim.233“Decisions of other jurisdictions hold that the single relationship of a doctor to his patient is sufficient to support the duty to exercise reasonable care to protect others against dangers emanating from the patient’s illness.” Tarasoff, 551 P.2d at 344. But this move was and is extremely counterintuitive.

Imagine extolling the cherished relationship between mother and son, and then requiring the mother to divulge her son’s secrets to prioritize some other kid’s needs. The obligations to third parties is a weak link in the reasoning of Tarasoff that is assumed rather than defended. As a landmark example of the co-option of health care by law enforcement, the Tarasoff decision has likely done a great deal of violence to the therapeutic relationship.

3.  The Tarasoff Ruling Frustrates Psychiatric Care

Indeed, shortly after the case was decided, a whopping eighty percent of therapists “observe[d] greater patient reluctance to discuss violent thoughts,” and sixty percent felt “that patients were at least somewhat more reluctant to discuss sensitive information.”234Griffin Edwards, Doing Their Duty: An Empirical Analysis of the Unintended Effect of Tarasoff v. Regents on Homicidal Activity, 57 J.L. & Econ. 321, 329 (2014). In addition to chilling patient willingness to discuss sensitive matters, therapists also erred on the side of restricting patients’ freedoms. A third of therapists reported being “more likely after Tarasoff to commit patients involuntarily to the hospital.”235Id. This might not be terrible policy if it helped patients or prevented violent crime. But that appears not to be the case. One study using a fixed-effects model found that mandatory duty-to-warn laws actually resulted in an increase in homicides of five percent.236Id. at 344.

Of course, recognizing the vulnerability of patients and the potential for abuse, physicians and nurses are accountable to the public in many other ways. If they abuse patient trust or fail to execute their duties, they can lose their professional licenses,237Recent Cases – Constitutional Law – Police Power – Physician’s License, 2 Harv. L. Rev. 186, 188 (1888). be denied hospital admitting privileges,238See, e.g., Or. Admin. R. 333-505-0005 (2020); Wood v. Archbold Med. Ctr., Inc., 738 F. Supp. 2d 1298, 1310 (M.D. Ga. 2010); Mills v. Toselli, 819 A.2d 202, 204 (R.I. 2003). and may also be liable for fines for violating the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act.239Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act of 1996, Pub. L. No. 104-191, 110 Stat. 1936, 2005 (1996). They also may be prosecuted for many health-care-specific types of self-dealing, fraud, and misrepresentation.240See 42 U.S.C. § 1395nn. For example, “[t]he Stark Law prohibits physicians from referring federal healthcare program patients to entities with which they have a financial relationship, with limited exceptions.” See Jeffrey B. Hammond, What Exactly Is Healthcare Fraud After the Affordable Care Act?, 42 Stetson L. Rev. 35, 40 n.26 (2012). And of course, unless they work for a public, state-run hospital, they can be, and frequently are, sued for ordinary common law malpractice claims.241See Holly Piehler Rockwell, Annotation, What Patient Claims Against Doctor, Hospital, or Similar Health Care Provider Are Not Subject to Statutes Specifically Governing Actions and Damages for Medical Malpractice, 89 A.L.R.4th 887, 897 (1991).

D.  Different Efficacy Norms

Therapists worried (correctly) that the Tarasoff ruling would pierce a huge hole in patient confidentiality, demand clairvoyance,242Deborah Doyle Belknap, Maas v. UPMC: Muddying the Waters of Therapist Liability in Pennsylvania, 92 Pa. Bar Ass’n Q. 163, 164 (2021). and not deter much crime. They were right. Without gathering any data whatsoever, Tarasoff-type expansions of duties have knocked down the preexisting wall between health care and law enforcement. This is concerning, but unsurprising. Judges do not conduct research on the efficacy of the policies they propose, and neither do the police.

Even law enforcement interventions that are passed by statute and capable of being carefully studied first by experts are almost never evidence based. Of the scant few police interventions that have undergone validity or reliability testing after the fact, the large majority have not been shown to work at all.243David Weisburd, David P. Farrington, Charlotte Gill, What Works in Crime Prevention and Rehabilitation: An Assessment of Systematic Reviews, 16 Criminology & Pub. Pol’y 415, 416 (2017) (citing Robert Martinson, What Works?—Questions and Answers About Prison Reform, 35 Pub. Int. 22, 25 (1974)). This means, in effect, that law enforcement is allowed to experiment on the public. This makes it all the more appalling that they are then immunized from negligence when they get it wrong.

This is diametrically opposed to ethical principles in clinical medicine.244See Laura I. Appleman, The Captive Lab Rat: Human Medical Experimentation in the Carceral State, 61 B.C. L. Rev. 1, 67 (2020). Virtually no treatments should be offered to patients without testing their safety and efficacy first. An untested intervention might actually cause harm as opposed to just not work, which would lead to violations of the ethical principle of nonmaleficence (colloquially, “do no harm”).245See Varkey, supra note 211, at 17; Beauchamp, supra note 164, at 6. While all health care involves some uncertainty, to experiment on patients, physicians must first demonstrate that no safer options have worked.246See World Medical Association Declaration of Helsinki: Ethical Principles for Medical Research Involving Human Subjects, 310 JAMA 2191, 2193 (2013); Lars Noah, Informed Consent and the Elusive Dichotomy Between Standard and Experimental Therapy, 28 Am. J.L. & Med. 361, 362 (2002). To deviate from an accepted standard of care, physicians must have data that the new path is equally safe and potentially more effective. This is not an ethical norm held by law enforcement. In the following Section, I explore two examples of law enforcement dabbling in health care in ways that resemble raw experimentation rather than evidence-based care.

1.  Examples of Law Enforcement Providing Experimental “Treatment”
i.  Excessive Ketamine Administration

In August 2019, a twenty-three-year-old Black man named Elijah McClain was stopped by police on his way home. Someone reported he was “acting suspicious” though he was not suspected of any crimes.247Allison Sherry, Elijah McClain’s Cause of Death Has Changed to Ketamine Administered by Responders, NPR (Sept. 26, 2022, 5:52 PM), https://www.npr.org/2022/09/26/1125172989/elijah-mcclains-cause-of-death-has-changed-to-ketamine-administered-by-responder [https://perma.cc/7PP9-YDRX]. Three cops restrained Elijah in a chokehold and then handcuffed him while he stated he was an introvert who never even hurt flies. The police claimed after the fact that McClain went for a gun, but there is no evidence of this. When the paramedics arrived, at law enforcement’s request, they administered five milliliters of ketamine without knowledge of Elijah’s vital signs, asthma, or mental health history.248Lucy Tompkins, Here’s What You Need to Know About Elijah McClain’s Death, N.Y. Times (Oct. 13, 2023), https://www.nytimes.com/article/who-was-elijah-mcclain.html [https://perma.cc/A7QK-8J64]. Elijah went into a coma and later died. The final autopsy report indicated a high dose of ketamine contributed to his death. The police officer who put McClain in a neck hold after he was administered ketamine was acquitted of negligent homicide and manslaughter.249Shelly Bradbury, Officer Acquitted in Elijah McClain’s Death Resigns from Aurora Police Department, Denver Post (Jan. 16, 2024, 2:23 PM), https://www.denverpost.com/2024/01/16/nathan-woodyard-aurora-police-resign-elijah-mcclain [https://perma.cc/L6JS-EMWH].

While law enforcement may need to restrain individuals who are physically threatening them, they seem to have no internal criteria for how the restraint will be done ethically and according to best medical practices. In Elijah’s case, there was no evidence that he needed the ketamine to be restrained. Indeed, he was already in handcuffs.

Unfortunately, police often rely on the controversial diagnosis of “excited delirium” to administer ketamine to stressed individuals.250See, e.g., Axtell v. City of Lakewood, No. 21-CV-00291, 2023 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 45767, at *21 (D. Colo. Mar. 17, 2023). As Osagie Obasogie has written, “there is little scientific evidence to support claims that excited delirium exists as a legitimate psychiatric condition.”251Osagie K. Obasogie, Excited Delirium and Police Use of Force, 107 Va. L. Rev. 1545, 1587 (2021). Even so, it is increasingly being used to explain “suspicious deaths that occur in police custody.”252Id. Reviews of police custody deaths validate that excessive use of ketamine is often the primary cause of death, as law enforcement are administering doses of sensitive medication without adequate medical training or supervision. This is yet another troubling example of the medicalization of criminal investigations, using nonevidence-based “treatments.” Police have inadequate training on how to assess the health status of individuals. And yet, they, along with paramedics, routinely experiment on a case-by-case basis, injecting powerful medications into people experiencing mental health crises.

ii.  Drug Courts Provide Nonevidence-Based Treatment

Drug courts have proliferated in the last two decades as a result of the failed War on Drugs and mass incarceration.253See Lesli Blair, Carrie Coen Sullivan, Jennifer Lux, Angela J. Thielo & Lia Gormsen, Measuring Drug Court Adherence to the What Works Literature: The Creation of the Evidence-Based Correctional Program Checklist-Drug Court, 60 Int’l J. Offender Therapy & Compar. Criminology 165, 166 (2016). Qualifications for drug court vary, but state and county programs typically allow people charged with nonviolent crimes to take a plea in abeyance, which will disappear so long as they graduate from a diversion program such as drug court. Drug courts often involve a county judge overseeing someone’s treatment program with regular check-ins with parole officers, treatment providers, and counselors. Participants must appear before their judge and explain any relapses they have had. Judges will often place requirements on graduation from drug court, such as obtaining and keeping a job.

Drug courts provide an on-ramp to treatment. Compared with probation-as-usual, some studies suggest they reduce recidivism rates.254Id. However, because addiction is a disease, the primary comparison should not be criminal metrics, but clinical ones.255See Miriam Krinsky & Leo Beletsky, Why It’s Time to Abandon Drug Courts, Crime Rep: Ctr. on Media Crime & Just. (Mar. 5, 2021), https://thecrimereport.org/2021/03/05/why-its-time-to-abandon-drug-courts [https://perma.cc/DG9B-8GBV]. We do not know how drug courts compare to routine, affordable evidence-based medical care for addiction because access to this treatment does not exist in the United States.256See Teneille R. Brown, Treating Addiction in the Clinic, Not the Courtroom: Using Neuroscience and Genetics to Abandon the Failed War on Drugs, 54 Ind. L. Rev. 29, 29 (2021). Instead, we funnel addiction “treatment” through the prison system or through highly unregulated addiction clinics that often do not have even one licensed medical provider.257Bertha K. Madras, The Surge of Opioid Use, Addiction, and Overdoses: Responsibility and Response of the US Health Care System, 74 JAMA Psychiatry 441, 442 (2017); see Barbara Andraka-Christou, America Needs the TREAT Act: Expanding Access to Effective Medication for Treating Addiction, 26 Health Matrix 309, 315 (2016).

The blending of punishment and treatment goals problematically blurs the lines between health care and law enforcement. People in recovery are expected to check in with their parole officer and attend drug court regularly with the threat of incarceration looming in the background. These check-ins make it difficult for poorer people living on the margins and without transportation to sustain employment. The result is that the carceral state is engaged in a great deal of surveillance and treatment that should be provided not in the courtroom, but in the clinic.258Brown, supra note 256, at 30.

While some of the treatment programs mandated through drug court are evidence-based, many are not.259“Medication-assisted treatment (MAT) for opioid addiction is ideologically contested in problem-solving courts, despite strong evidence of its effectiveness.” Barbara Andraka-Christou, What Is “Treatment” for Opioid Addiction in Problem-Solving Courts? A Study of 20 Indiana Drug and Veterans Courts, 13 Stan. J.C.R & C.L. 189, 189 (2017). As a result, participants in drug courts often get mixed messages about the value of medication to their recovery. For example, despite being highly effective and the “gold standard” for opioid use disorder, some drug court programs prohibit the use of buprenorphine to curb opioid cravings.260Joanne Csete, United States Drug Courts and Opioid Agonist Therapy: Missing the Target of Overdose Reduction, 1 Forensic Sci. Intl’l: Mind & L. 1, 2 (2020). For decades, many drug courts have considered medication for opioid use disorder (such as methadone) to be taboo because it is “just another addiction.”261Id. at 3. This perspective ignores the reliable empirical data that when properly dosed, opioid agonists like buprenorphine can keep people employed and able to break the cycle from craving to binging.262See generally Nat’l Acads. Scis., Eng’g, & Med., Medications for Opioid Use Disorder Save Lives (Alan I. Leshner & Michelle Mancher eds., 2019).

There are unfortunately great disparities between courts in the level and quality of addiction care that participants receive. Even some of the evidence-based drug courts that contract with licensed addiction providers require participants to attend group therapy through Alcoholics Anonymous meetings.263See Sara Gordon, The Use and Abuse of Mutual-Support Programs in Drug Courts, 2017 U. Ill. L. Rev. 1503, 1503, 1522 (2017). Group therapy can be a very useful form of social support to individuals in recovery. However, in some counties it is the primary method of “treatment” for individuals in drug court. This is a problem because its faith-based message is “not a substitute for scientifically valid addiction treatment and should not constitute the primary form of medical assistance received by drug court participants.”264Id. at 1543.

2.  Police Are the Default Providers for Patients in Crisis

Because the U.S. has failed to fund many types of social services and behavioral health care, the police are often called on when people are in crisis.265Michele P. Bratina, Kelly M. Carrero, Bitna Kim & Alida V. Merlo, Crisis Intervention Team Training: When Police Encounter Persons with Mental Illness, 21 Police Prac. & Rsch. 279, 280 (2020); see also Frank M. Webb, Criminal Justice and the Mentally Ill: Strange Bedfellows, 49 Tex. Tech. L. Rev. 817, 820 (2017). When police are the hammer and the only tool we have, every social service—from “traffic stops and noise complaints to evictions, overdoses, and psychiatric emergencies”—becomes their nail.266Bailey et al., supra note 29, at 106. We have culturally come to depend on the police as the key point-of-access for the delivery of addiction treatment, mental health care, and even the reporting of child abuse, despite their inability to meet vulnerable patients where they are.267See Webb supra note 265, at 824; Taleed El-Sabawi & Jennifer J. Carroll, A Model for Defunding: An Evidence-Based Statute for Behavioral Health Crisis Response, 94 Temp. L. Rev. 1, 8 (2021). To be clear, police departments may not desire being frontline medics. However, due to the chronic underfunding of behavioral health services, police are much more likely to be the first and last resort for people in crisis.268Judy Ann Clausen & Joanmarie Davoli, No-One Receives Psychiatric Treatment in a Squad Car, 54 Tex. Tech. L. Rev. 645, 649–50 (2022); see United States v. Mississippi, 400 F. Supp. 3d 546, 578 (S.D. Miss. 2019) (explaining that in Mississippi, mental health services are largely underfunded and inaccessible).

While crisis-trained police can reduce escalation and help divert people to treatment,269See Gabriella K. Olgin, Annick Bórquez, Pieter Baker, Erika Clairgue, Mario Morales, Arnulfo Bañuelos, Jaime Arredondo, Alicia Harvey-Vera, Steffanie Strathdee, Leo Beletsky & Javier A. Cepeda, Preferences and Acceptability of Law Enforcement Initiated Referrals for People Who Inject Drugs: A Mixed Methods Analysis, 15 Substance Abuse Treatment, Prevention, & Pol’y 75 , 82 (2020). these programs are only successful relative to the status quo of carceral, law enforcement methods.270Bratina et al., supra note 265, at 289–90; see also Clausen & Davoli, supra note 268, at 648 (“[A]ny reform that focuses only on first responders will not fix our system.”). And while they may be “associated with reducing recidivism and lowering costs, . . . there is little association between program participation and improved behavioral health.”271Caroline Harmon-Darrow, Jenny Afkinich, Nancy D. Franke & Gail Betz, Police Diversion at Arrest: A Systematic Review of the Literature, 50 Crim. Just. & Behav. 307, 307 (2022); see also El-Sabawi & Carroll, supra note 267, at 13 (“Despite the enormous number of programs in operation in the thirty years following CIT’s [crisis intervention team’s] conception, little evidence exists to show that the CIT approach is effective at reducing incidents of police use of force (or even simply reducing incidents of excessive police use of force) during behavioral-health-related calls.”). That is, they might reduce crime, but they do not appear to promote health. And yet, state governors and mayors are expanding nonevidence-based programs to funnel “treatments” for mental illnesses through law enforcement and the criminal justice system.272For a critique of various ineffective state reforms, see generally Clausen & Davoli, supra note 267, at 675.

In California, the “CARE Court” will “connect[] people in crisis with a court-ordered treatment plan for up to two years, while diverting them from possible incarceration, homelessness or restrictive court-ordered conservatorship.”273Karen Garcia, CARE Court Will Change How California Addresses Serious, Untreated Mental Illness. Here’s How, L.A. Times (Sept. 15, 2022, 1:20 PM), https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2022-09-15/how-care-court-program-will-work-for-mentally-ill [https://perma.cc/K6AS-RNZD]. Programs like this reveal how we have completely given up on providing actual, evidence-based mental health treatment and instead criminalize poverty and mental illness.274See Holly Ober & John Warren, UCR Experts: Newsom’s CARE Courts an ‘Oxymoron,’ UC Riverside News (Mar. 23, 2022), https://news.ucr.edu/articles/2022/03/23/ucr-experts-newsoms-care-courts-oxymoron [https://perma.cc/S62C-GWHB]. The vast majority of unhoused people with addiction or other mental illnesses receive no treatment.275Id. And when this is the reality—where we have given up on providing universal mental health treatment—the illnesses do not simply disappear. They show up in ways that are funneled by default through law enforcement and the criminal justice system.276See Bailey et al., supra note 29, at 107; Sara Jacoby, Elinore Kaufman, Utsha Khatri, Erin Hall, Millie Shepherd & Michael Smith, When Health Care and Law Enforcement Overlap: Ideas from a Symposium of Stakeholders, Univ. Pa. Leonard Davis Inst. Health Econ. (May 2, 2022), https://ldi.upenn.edu/our-work/research-updates/when-health-care-and-law-enforcement-overlap [https://perma.cc/Y4JX-ZRKB].

CARE Court and similar programs only seem progressive if they are compared to incarceration. When compared with the receipt of top-notch, evidence-based treatment, they fall woefully short.277El-Sabawi & Carroll, supra note 267, at 14 (discussing the weak evidence that behavioral-health-response training fundamentally changes officer behavior in the field). And yet, we lack the collective imagination or will to treat people in the clinic rather than the courtroom.278Brown, supra note 256, at 30. It would be far better to provide mental health treatment wholly divorced from the threat of punishment. The looming stick of incarceration distracts from the provision of quality, evidence-based treatment.

Providing “treatment” through criminal courts confuses the roles of law enforcement and clinicians. Participants may come to view clinicians as being inherently aligned with the police state. If you are used to your treatment provider talking about your mental health struggles with your parole officer, counselor, or judge, you might come to think these disclosures are normal outside of this context. You might also not tell your court-appointed provider everything that they need to know to adequately treat you; if you say the wrong thing, it might delay graduation from drug court or any other diversion program. But most importantly for our purposes, the treatment that is provided by these diversion programs is often out-of-date and not evidence-based. This will impair patient trust in health care. In the next Section, I will explain how another ethical principle, honesty, is also critical for trust. I will discuss how it is a cornerstone of medicine, but not of law enforcement, and why this matters.

E.  Different Honesty Norms

There used to be norms of “benevolent deception” in medicine,279Joanna L. Hart, Deception, Honesty, and Professionalism: A Persistent Challenge in Modern Medicine, Current Op. Psychology, Oct. 2022, at 1. where physicians did not disclose terrible prognoses to patients to give them hope. This is no longer ethically or legally permitted.280See AMA Code of Medical Ethics Opinion 2.1.3: Withholding Information from Patients, Am. Med. Ass’n, https://www.ama-assn.org/delivering-care/ethics/withholding-information-patients [https://perma.cc/ARC4-TXLZ]. The AMA Code of Ethics requires physicians to maintain “open communication between physician and patient” as “essential for trust in the relationship.”281Id.

If a clinician is dishonest in any way, this will negatively impact the care the patient receives, the willingness of the patient to seek care, and the likelihood that the patient will see the clinician as protecting their best interests.282See Bazargan et al., supra note 34, at 5, 11. Deception is universally condemned in medicine.283“It is a truth universally acknowledged that ethical doctors will not intentionally deceive their patients.” See Daniel K. Sokol, Can Deceiving Patients be Morally Acceptable?, 334 Brit. Med. J. 984, 984 (2007) (provocatively arguing that in some cases deceiving patients may be moral, contra the consensus view). It impairs shared decision-making and “fundamentally undermines patients’ autonomy in nearly all situations.”284Hart, supra note 279, at 3. Clinicians who lie to patients can be sued and investigated for professional ethics violations.285See, e.g., Abraham v. Kosinski, 759 N.Y.S.2d 278, 280 (N.Y. App. Div. 2003); Walters v. Rinker, 520 N.E.2d 468, 470 (Ind. Ct. App. 1988); Baker v. UC Health, No. 16-CV-00853, 2017 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 17899 at *9 (S.D. Ohio Feb. 8, 2017); Adams v. Durrani, 183 N.E.3d 560, 569 (Ohio Ct. App. 2022). They could also potentially lose their license.286See Mary Anne Bobinski, Law and Power in Health Care: Challenges to Physician Control, 67 Buff. L. Rev. 595, 611 (2019) (explaining the rise of informed consent liability and professional licensing, but noting how professional licensing boards need to do a better job being accountable to the public); see also Dinah Stein, Florida’s “Three Strikes” Legislation: A Defense Perspective, Trial Advoc. Q., Spring 2010, at 22.

Police, on the other hand, routinely lie to witnesses to get them to cooperate.287See Margareth Etienne & Richard McAdams, Police Deception in Interrogation as a Problem of Procedural Legitimacy, 54 Tex. Tech. L. Rev. 21, 27 (2021). For example, they may tell someone their statement is not being recorded when it is, or say they have video footage of the defendant committing the crime, even if this is not the case. Courts do not find this violates defendants’ due process rights.288See, e.g., People v. Green, 139 N.Y.S.3d 446, 450–52 (N.Y. App. Div. 2021). It is well-recognized that “[t]he police are permitted to lie or use some deceptive methods in their questioning as long as the deception was not . . . so extensive as to induce a false confession . . . .”289People v. Henry, 103 N.Y.S.3d 656, 665 (N.Y. App. Div. 2019). In this regard, health care and law enforcement are quite distinct. Physicians should not assume that patients are lying, because the physician and the patient should theoretically be on the same page. However, for the police, the need to investigate a crime means everyone is presumed to be hiding something. They have therefore “come to believe that lying is a necessary and justifiable component of their jobs.”290Andrew J. McClurg, Good Cop, Bad Cop: Using Cognitive Dissonance Theory to Reduce Police Lying, 32 U.C. Davis L. Rev. 389, 394 (1999).

Police are allowed to use deceptive methods to obtain evidence.291Elizabeth E. Joh, DNA Theft: Recognizing the Crime of Nonconsensual Genetic Collection and Testing, 91 B.U. L. Rev. 665, 666 (2011). For example, DNA that a suspect unwittingly leaves on an armchair may later be analyzed without a warrant and without violating the Fourth Amendment.292See Raynor v. State, 99 A.3d 753, 756, 768 (Md. 2014). If one technically agrees to provide a DNA sample, but did not feel they were free to refuse, this is presumed to be voluntary consent in the police context.293See, e.g., People v. Muhammad, 117 N.Y.S.3d 917, 917 (N.Y. App. Div. 2020); People v. Osborne, 930 N.Y.S.3d 367, 369 (N.Y. App. Div. 2011) (“[T]he fact that the police officers did not advise the defendant . . . of [his] right to refuse consent does not, by itself, negate the consent otherwise freely given.”).

Some have argued that police surreptitiously obtaining genetic samples for investigative purposes is unethical because they “bypass[] the codes of informed consent.”294Denise Syndercombe Court, Forensic Genealogy: Some Serious Concerns, 36 Forensic Sci. Int’l: Genetics 203, 203 (2018). In the medical context, the phrase “informed consent” is a term of art. It “requires that a patient understands what is being done to her before she agrees to be touched by a physician or researcher.”295Brown, supra note 201, at 34–35.

A physician’s failure to provide informed consent can result in battery or medical malpractice liability. It is a well-developed concept and obligatory.296Laurent B. Frantz, Annotation, Modern Status of Views as to General Measure of Physician’s Duty to Inform Patient of Risks of Proposed Treatment, 88 A.L.R.3d 1008 (1978) (“[T]he existence of a duty on the part of physicians to inform patients of the risks of a proposed treatment has seldom been denied . . . .”). But this is not true for law enforcement, which is not an institution built on honesty, transparency, or trust.297See Christina Koningisor, Coopting Privacy, 104 B.U. L. Rev. (forthcoming 2025) (manuscript at 4), https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4745551 [https://perma.cc/97Y6-ACAY] (“The privacy law regime today permits law enforcement agencies to collect massive amounts of data about citizens. In exchange, these agencies have ample secrecy tools at their disposal to guard that information against further public disclosure.” (footnote omitted)). The different disclosure and transparency norms between health care and law enforcement stem from the different weight each puts on the value of autonomy. In the next Section, I will explore the principle of autonomy, and how it steers medical ethics but not police practice.

F.  Different Autonomy Norms

Despite physicians and nurses having a great deal more clinical education than most of their patients, they should not tell the patient what to do with their bodies.298See Linda L. Olson & Felicia Stokes, The ANA Code of Ethics for Nurses with Interpretive Statements: Resource for Nursing Regulation, 7 J. Nursing Regul. 9, 10 (2016). In medicine, respecting autonomy means that patients have the freedom to make decisions for themselves and determine the course of their care.299See Raanan Gillon, Autonomy and the Principle of Respect for Autonomy, 290 Brit. Med. J. 1806, 1806–07 (1985). Autonomy does not mean patients get to demand specific things. Rather, it means they should be presented with the options—their risks and benefits—and be given the chance to ask questions.

Patients cannot make autonomous decisions if physicians do not share information that would be material to their decision.300See AMA Code of Medical Ethics Opinion 11.2.4: Transparency in Health Care, Am. Med. Ass’n, https://www.ama-assn.org/delivering-care/ethics/transparency-health-care [https://perma.cc/2KHA-CKM8]. Respect for autonomy means that patients might make choices that appear irrational to physicians (like refusing chemotherapy), but stem from personal goals of care. Thus, respecting autonomy means respecting the patient’s idiosyncratic values and right of self-determination.

There is no corollary respect for autonomy in law enforcement. There is not a police code of ethics that ensures that autonomy is respected. Indeed, manipulative or sneaky tactics might be instrumentally encouraged to detain or interrogate individuals.301“[T]he government’s use of manipulative, sneaky, and deceitful investigative methods does not, without more, rise to the level of a constitutional outrage.” United States v. Colon, 71 F. Supp. 3d 269, 275 (D. Conn. 2014). This provides yet another critical difference between the two institutions and another basis for keeping them separate. To trust physicians, patients must not come to expect their doctors to treat them like cops do.

The next two examples I will explore demonstrate how the legislature disrespects autonomy by refusing to allow patients to make medical decisions for themselves. If the legislature has decided that a type of health care—such as abortion or gender-affirming care—is morally suspect, they regulate it heavily, using health care licenses and professionals as the enforcement mechanism. And yet, states only have the ostensible moral authority to regulate these practices in the way they do because at base, they do not consider them to be legitimate health care. If they did honor them as valid treatments, they would have no authority to stick their noses in a conversation that should be between patients and their doctors.

1.  Limiting Access to Lifesaving Abortion Care

Governments are presently using their police power to block access to critical health care—showing perhaps the greatest disrespect possible for the autonomy of people who can become pregnant. Statutes that have restricted access to abortions since Roe v. Wade was overturned demonstrate a remarkable lack of recognition of how they require physicians to violate medical ethics.302See Teneille R. Brown, Abortion and the Extremism of Bright Line Rules, 119 Nw. U. L. Rev. (forthcoming) (manuscript at 8), https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4459558 [https://perma.cc/L2GY-MBAQ]; NARAL Pro-Choice America, Bans on Abortion by Week, https://reproductivefreedomforall.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/WHODecides2022-BANS-BY-WEEK-Report-011722-1.pdf [https://perma.cc/K3S5-ZT3C]; David S. Cohen, Greer Donley & Rachel Rebouché, The New Abortion Battleground, 123 Colum. L. Rev. 1, 72–73 (2023).

Because these power grabs by law enforcement are not evidence-based, the way the exceptions are crafted reveals complete naivete about how medicine is practiced. For example, the meaning of terms like “medical emergency” have already been tested in hospitals across the country. In Missouri, a woman named Mylissa Farmer went into labor at 18 weeks with a desired pregnancy. Her water broke and she had vaginal bleeding and cramping.303Susan Szuch, She Had ‘A Baby Dying Inside’ Her. Under Missouri’s Abortion Ban, Doctors Could Do Nothing, USA Today (Oct. 15, 2022, 8:00 AM), https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2022/10/15/missouri-abortion-ban-pregnancy-complications/10496559002 [https://perma.cc/C6QR-9X2X]. When emergency physicians assessed her, they said the baby girl she was carrying would not survive. However, because it was technically still alive, Missouri’s post-Dobbs abortion ban would not permit them to perform an abortion, even to prevent serious complications to Mylissa. Unfortunately, her physicians did not think she was close enough to death to justify the termination under Missouri’s law. Mylissa’s doctors told her she would just need to wait until her “vitals plummeted or infection set in, or the fetus’ cardiac activity stopped” before they could intervene.304Id. This put her at great risk, as she attempted to travel to a neighboring state while in a precarious and unstable situation.

The Missouri statute, and others like it, tie physicians’ hands and do not let them do what they know is best for the birth mother and her baby, which is to terminate the pregnancy compassionately and safely.305Id. There is already mounting evidence that in other states, like Texas, patients are suffering from preventable complications that are caused not by medicine, but by criminal laws.306Stephanie Emma Pfeffer, Texas Woman Nearly Loses Her Life After Doctors Can’t Legally Perform an Abortion: ‘Their Hands Were Tied,’ People (Oct. 18, 2022), https://people.com/health/texas-woman-nearly-loses-her-life-after-doctors-cannot-legally-perform-abortion [https://perma.cc/DP2H-6HL2]. These abortion bans are obviously not meant to respect the autonomy of women and people who can become pregnant. In fact, they are written in such medically naive ways, they might even be designed to do the opposite.

In an effort to advance a pro-life, anti-choice agenda, abortion bans forget that they are conscripting physicians to violate their code of ethics in the service of prosecutorial goals. They also forget that medical decisions are not black-and-white. Several of the statutes are written as if a siren goes off when someone’s life is at risk.307Brown, supra note 302, at 7 (“Aside from the key fact that physicians are ethically required to do more than prevent death, these statutes make it seem as if medical emergencies operate like a light switch, and are either present or absent.”). But that is not how critical situations arise. A pregnant person’s vital signs can change rapidly, often without advance notice. Someone can seem stable, and then two minutes later they are crashing.

Finally, “medical emergencies” are not declared without patient input. Respect for autonomy means that physicians do not unilaterally tell patients when heroic life-saving interventions will be used. Whether a patient wants chest compressions or a ventilator depends on their values and personal goals of care. The exceptions that only permit abortions when the pregnant person is near death ignore the very purpose of medicine. Medical ethics requires that physicians do what they can to promote healing and to help people thrive—by promoting autonomy and beneficence—and not just to prevent death.

Other abortion laws exhibit additional “black-and-white” thinking about medicine.308Brown, supra note 302, at 1. Utah’s current eighteen-week ban permits abortions if the fetus has a lethal defect or severe brain abnormality that is “uniformly diagnosable.”309Abortion Prohibition Amendments, Senate Bill 174, 2020 Leg., Gen Sess. (Utah 2020) (codified at Utah Code Ann. 1953, § 76-7a-101). However, this fundamentally misunderstands the way bodies present themselves and the uncertainty inherent in many clinical situations. While some fetal defects are expressed with near certainty, whether a particular defect will be fatal and within a particular timeframe is rarely something that can be uniformly diagnosed.310See Greer Donley, Parental Autonomy Over Prenatal End-of-Life Decisions, 105 Minn. L. Rev. 175, 184 (2020). Medically speaking, the phrase “uniformly diagnosable” is nonsense. These are just some of the terrifying real-world problems that arise when legislators try to commandeer the practice of medicine, with the threat of criminal consequences to physicians for noncompliance.

Physicians in Utah and elsewhere have expressed concern over how to thread the needle in these situations—that is, to do what is best for their patients while also not exposing themselves to criminal fines or jail time.311Katie McKellar, Uncertainty Swirls Around How Utah Will Enforce Its Trigger Abortion Ban, Deseret News (July 13, 2022, 7:55 PM), https://www.deseret.com/utah/2022/7/13/23195392/questions-swirl-how-utah-will-actually-enforce-its-trigger-abortion-ban-collateral-damage-roe-v-wade [https://perma.cc/BX2W-649S]. Every physician’s risk preference will vary, but these laws will certainly have a chilling effect and put patients’ lives at risk.312For example, Kate Cox was unable to terminate her unviable pregnancy under the Texas state’s medical emergency exception, putting her life and ability to have future children at risk. See Brendan Pierson, Texas Top Court Rules Against Woman Who Sought Abortion for Medical Emergency, Reuters (Dec. 11, 2023, 11:48 PM), https://www.reuters.com/world/us/texas-woman-who-sought-emergency-abortion-court-will-leave-state-care-2023-12-11 [https://perma.cc/E5BT-J8EV]. Kate Cox “said her fetus had a fatal diagnosis and that her health was at risk if she continued the pregnancy to term, including her ability to have more children in the future.” Id. They are also part of a long-term, disturbing trend of requiring physicians to violate autonomy by shoehorning politics into health care.313See Harper Jean Tobin, Confronting Misinformation on Abortion: Informed Consent, Deference, and Fetal Pain Laws, 17 Colum. J. Gender & L. 111, 113–14 (2008); Callie Beusman, A State-by-State List of the Lies Abortion Doctors Are Forced to Tell Women, VICE (Aug. 18, 2016, 8:15 AM), https://broadly.vice.com/en_us/article/nz88gx/a-state-by-state-list-of-the-lies-abortion-doctors-are-forced-to-tell-women [https://perma.cc/3K5W-AUAC]. Below is yet another example of this phenomenon, which is tragically on the rise.

2.  Punishing the Provision of Gender-Affirming Treatment

State laws banning gender-affirming care also require physicians to disrespect patient autonomy. In 2023, the Governor of Utah signed a ban on gender-affirming surgeries for minors into law.314Ava Sasani, Utah Bans Transition Care for Transgender Youth, N.Y. Times (Jan. 29, 2023), https://www.nytimes.com/2023/01/29/us/utah-transgender-bill.html [https://perma.cc/97D7-XXAD]. The Utah law prohibits a health care provider from “providing a hormonal transgender treatment” or “providing sex characteristic surgical procedures” to new patients who were not diagnosed with gender dysphoria before a certain date.” The penalty for violating this law is either losing one’s license or being sued for malpractice.315Transgender Medical Treatments and Procedures Amendments, Senate Bill 16, 2023 Gen. Sess. (Utah 2023).

On April 6, 2021, the Arkansas State Legislature overrode the governor’s veto to prohibit the provision of gender-affirming treatment to minor patients—or to even refer them to other physicians for this treatment.316The law is currently being challenged by patients who say it violates the Equal Protection clause of the U.S. Constitution and the physician’s free speech rights. The Arkansas law states that “[t]he risks of gender transition procedures far outweigh any benefit at this stage of clinical study on these procedures.”317Save Adolescents From Experimentation Act (SAFE Act), Ark. Code Ann. § 20-9-1502 (2021). In Arkansas, unlawful provision of gender-affirming care is likewise considered unprofessional conduct and can provide a basis for a malpractice lawsuit. Because physicians who provide gender-affirming care could lose their license in Arkansas, this will effectively remove this care for many youths in the state and will almost certainly result in increased mental distress and suicide.318See Myeshia N. Price & Amy E. Green, Association of Gender Identity Acceptance with Fewer Suicide Attempts Among Transgender and Nonbinary Youth, 8 Transgender Health 56, 56 (2023) (finding that transgender and nonbinary youth are four times more likely to attempt suicide compared with cisgender youth).

Similar legislation is pending in approximately fifteen other states. Most of these bills propose banning all health care professionals from prescribing or administering puberty blockers, hormone therapy, or gender-affirming surgeries to anyone under the age of eighteen unless the patient can verify that they are genetically intersex.319Outlawing Trans Youth: State Legislatures and the Battle over Gender-Affirming Healthcare for Minors, 134 Harv. L. Rev. 2163, 2173–74 (2021). Penalties can be extreme; in Idaho, a proposed bill would punish physicians with a felony punishable by a life sentence.320See H.B. 465, 65th Leg., 2d Reg. Sess. (Idaho 2020). The law would have defined gender-affirming care as “genital mutilation of a child,” which carries a maximum life sentence under the state criminal code. See id.; Idaho Code § 18-1506B(6) (2024). Fortunately, the Idaho bill has not yet passed their senate.

In the aforementioned laws, the legislature is deciding what counts as the medical standard of care—disrespecting patient autonomy by going against the great weight of medical evidence and expertise and imposing fines and professional penalties.321See Simona Martin, Elizabeth S. Sandberg & Daniel E. Shumer, Criminalization of Gender-Affirming Care — Interfering with Essential Treatment for Transgender Children and Adolescents, 385 New Eng. J. Medicine 579, 580–81 (2021). The American Academy of Pediatrics issued a statement saying “[p]olitics has no place here. These are individual conversations between clinicians, patients and families about what’s best.”322Trisha Korioth, Pediatricians Say State Bills Would Harm Transgender Youths, Am. Acad. Pediatrics (Mar. 9, 2021), https://publications.aap.org/aapnews/news/12780 [https://perma.cc/E4C4-HHQY]. In testimony regarding the harms the legislation will cause, pediatricians said it is based on “myths and misinformation” and a “misunderstanding about medical and surgical aspects of gender-affirmative care.”323Id.

While legislators claim these bills protect children, physicians argue they do the opposite. Long-term data shows that “access to gender-affirming care in childhood and adolescence can have profoundly important mental health benefits,” including reducing the risk of suicide, decreasing depression, and decreasing anxiety.324Martin et al., supra note 321, at 580. At some point, these statutes will need to be enforced, and when they are, law enforcement will trump important goals of clinical treatment simply because the government holds itself to a lower standard of care, permits experimentation on the public, and violates patient autonomy.

Once again, we see the state invading private medical domains through the apparatus of law enforcement. This is concerning, because as I have laid out above, law enforcement fails to promote the key tenets of privacy, honesty, evidence-bases, respect for autonomy, and accountability, which are key ingredients to stimulate trust. Once in the hands of law enforcement, vulnerable patients’ data may be used for nefarious, punitive purposes, which might discourage patients from receiving necessary treatments. The disrespect for individuals in the law enforcement context cannot infect patients’ perspectives in the medical space; otherwise, patient trust in medicine will suffer. In the next Section, I will explain why patient trust is critical to the delivery of quality care.

G.  Different Trust Norms

Compared with other countries, public trust in physicians in the U.S. is low—unacceptably low.325Id. It is therefore imperative that health care policies do more to earn the trust of the patient populations they serve, and not less. Promoting patient trust cannot be accomplished if people perceive physicians to be prosecutors, or as working in tandem with law enforcement.

This is not about trying to keep groups separate for the sake of purity or to fetishize medicine. Rather, to prevent negative impacts on patient health, it is critical that we erect sharp boundaries between law enforcement and treatment. The lack of respect for patient privacy, honesty, and autonomy, and the lack of accountability in law enforcement for causing brutal, individual harms, makes the police in the U.S. less worthy of public trust. In the next Section, I will explore instances when the lines between health care and law enforcement have been blurred, and how these blurred lines have likely caused significant harm to the physician-patient relationship, the trust on which it relies, and the quality of care.

1.  Prescription Drug Monitoring Programs Rely on and Exacerbate Mistrust

Prescription drug monitoring programs (“PDMPs”) are databases that track prescriptions and patient requests for controlled substances.326Leo Beletsky, Deploying Prescription Drug Monitoring to Address the Overdose Crisis: Ideology Meets Reality, 15 Ind. Health L. Rev. 139, 144–45 (2018). They proliferated over the last decade in response to the opioid crisis and now exist in nearly every state.327Rebecca L. Haffajee, Prescription Drug Monitoring Programs — Friend or Folly in Addressing the Opioid-Overdose Crisis?, 381 New Eng. J. Medicine 699, 699 (2019). From the outset, they were “an instrument of law enforcement.”328Mina Hong, Sarah Seymour, Thomas J. Stopka, Lane Bandanza, Erin Crocker, Allison Morgan & Leo Beletsky, “Nobody Knows How You’re Supposed to Interpret It:” End-User Perspectives on Prescription Drug Monitoring Program in Massachusetts, 16 J. Addiction Med. e171, e171 (2022). PDMPs operate differently in every state, but generally require physicians and pharmacists to enter prescribing data for controlled substances or to check such data before initiating a new controlled substance prescription.

Proponents argue that PDMPs are a helpful investigative tool to assess potential criminal diversion of drugs by patients, physicians, and providers.329Id. Critics argue that they are inefficient and poorly designed. PDMPs are often not developed with a “clear orientation towards health promotion” and instead complicate “communication and relationships between prescribers, pharmacists, and patients.”330Id. Put simply, they place law enforcement between a patient and their physician and can violate the trust between them.

PDMPs also may trigger unintended consequences that harm patients. Fearing law enforcement oversight, physicians may under-prescribe necessary pain medications.331Haffajee, supra note 327, at 700. This may lead patients to seek treatment for their pain illegally on the streets, with a drug supply that could be impure and deadly.332Id. In addition to the significant public health concerns, there are enormous potential privacy risks of PDMPs when this sensitive data lands in the hands of law enforcement.333Jennifer D. Oliva, Prescription-Drug Policing: The Right to Health Information Privacy Pre- and Post-Carpenter, 69 Duke L.J. 775, 821 (2020); Brief for Plantiffs-Intervenors-Appellees at 4–5, Or. Prescription Drug Monitoring Program v. U.S. Drug Enf’t Admin., 860 F.3d 1228 (9th Cir. 2017) (No.14-35402).

For the purposes of this Article, the chief problem with PDMPs is that they destroy patient trust by injecting law enforcement norms and goals into medicine. If patients know that their physician is stepping away for a few minutes to check a police database to see if the patient is telling the truth, this brings a prosecutorial element into the decision-making process that will destroy rapport. When programs like PDMPs start chipping away at the principle of confidentiality in medicine, there are no obvious principled limits on cops’ use of doctors as their prosecutorial instruments. This loss of confidentiality will further hurt the sanctity of the physician-patient relationship, and the disappearing trust on which it relies.334See Beletsky, supra note 326, at 145.

CONCLUSION

For the many reasons laid out above, it is important that the norms of law enforcement not creep into the world of medicine. As the Association of American Physicians and Surgeons so fittingly recognized, “[p]hysicians are not agents of the police power of government, and should not be forced to choose between protecting their patients against prosecution or protecting them against disease.”335Oliva, supra note 333, at 777 (quoting Amicus Curiae Brief of the Ass’n of Am. Physicians & Surgeons in Support of Respondent-Appellant Abbas T. Zadeh, in Support of Reversal at 8, United States v. Zadeh, 820 F.3d 746 (5th Cir. 2016) (Nos. 15-10202 & 15-10195), 2015 WL 4380678, at *8). Unlike cops, physicians must embody ethical norms that respect self-regulation, privacy, accountability, efficacy, honesty, and autonomy. Respecting these ethical norms is critical not only to promote public health, but also to repair the broken trust between physicians and patients. In this Article, I described the rampant mistrust of medical providers and institutions, which is exacerbated by police intrusion into health care. Medical mistrust is a SDOH that disproportionately impacts patients of color. To build health care systems that are more trustworthy and equitable, physicians must be walled off from law enforcement.

A number of efforts can mitigate against the police intrusion into health care. However, there is no simple solution to this complex problem, and more detailed research needs to be completed on each solution. Nevertheless, below are some concrete steps courts and legislatures could consider to better separate health care from law enforcement.

A.  HIPAA Should Be Revised to Make It Harder for Cops to Obtain Medical Data

The HIPAA exceptions described above make it too easy for law enforcement to pierce medical privacy and obtain access to confidential health data.336See 45 C.F.R. § 164.512 (2016). In addition to permitting disclosures of patient data in response to subpoenas, HIPAA also permits disclosures on a simple written administrative request; this is what health privacy scholar Leslie Francis has called an “open-ended provision.”337Leslie Francis, Privacy and Health Information: The United States and the European Union, 103 Ky. L.J. 419, 430 (2014).

HIPAA has thus had the counterintuitive effect of making it easier, rather than harder, for the government to access health data. HIPAA was not intended to provide cops with greater access to confidential data. However, because its permissive exceptions are sometimes read by law enforcement and health care staff to create entitlements to patient data, the statute has become not a shield, but a sieve.338See Nicolas P. Terry & Leslie P. Francis, Ensuring the Privacy and Confidentiality of Electronic Health Records, 2007 U. Ill. L. Rev. 681, 684 (2007). This is unfortunate because the “HIPAA drafters worried as much about personal data being abused by the government as they did about misuse by researchers or the insurance industry.”339Erin Murphy, The Politics of Privacy in the Criminal Justice System: Information Disclosure, the Fourth Amendment, and Statutory Law Enforcement Exemptions, 111 Mich. L. Rev. 485, 496 (2013).

Indeed, while I was writing this Article, Vanderbilt Medical Center became embroiled in controversy over its disclosure of transgender patients’ medical records to the Tennessee attorney general “as part of an investigation into medical billing.”340Anisha Kholi, Vanderbilt’s Decision to Turn Over Trans Patient Records to the State Sparks Backlash, TIME (June 23, 2023, 10:17 AM), https://time.com/6289609/vanderbilt-transgender-records-patients-backlash [https://perma.cc/6DSJ-K9V5]. The disclosure appears to have been pursuant to a civil investigative request, and it is unclear whether this runs afoul of existing Fourth Amendment precedent.341While the Supreme Court “has generally required individualized suspicion for warrantless searches . . . [t]here is a line of pre-Carpenter decisions . . . that hold that certain investigatory or administrative subpoenas are not subject to the Fourth Amendment probable cause requirement.” Oliva, supra note 333, at 805. The concern, of course, is that the investigation could be pretext, and a means for harassing clinics that provide gender-affirming care as well to their patients. Regardless, HIPAA does almost nothing to stop this kind of disclosure. As Nashville LGBTQIA+ advocate Lance Preston said: “[d]o we believe that Vanderbilt Medical Center could have fought this and taken a bigger stand? Absolutely. But at the same time, we believe that it would have just prolonged the inevitable because the attorney general unfortunately, has the law on his side.”342Kohli, supra note 340.

This Article calls for revisions to HIPAA to remove the breezy access the police have to medical data. The exceptions have become too easy to overcome, without demonstrating a strong investigative need. However, precisely how this statute ought to be revised is beyond the scope of this Article. There is, at least, a strong prima facie argument for requiring cops to do more than issue a written request asking for medical data. The status quo is too permissive. Ironically, HIPAA currently gives the very entity most people worry about sharing their medical data with—the police—incredible free access.

B.  Common Law Courts Should Rethink Tarasoff and Expansive Immunity

The Tarasoff-style duty to warn was ill-conceived from the start. Empirical research has shown that such duty has not resulted in demonstrable improvements in the prevention or prosecution of crime. Instead, it has stifled vulnerable patients’ willingness to obtain mental health treatment. While likely resulting from an intuitive impulse to hold someone accountable for heinous crimes, the Tarasoff-style duty takes the very thing that makes health care special—confidentiality and patient trust—and exploits it in a way that harms not only public health, but also medical ethics. One way to course-correct is to limit the rampant recognition of duties of physicians to warn or protect third parties whom they have never met. Therapists and physicians lack good risk-assessment tools, they are often wrong, and their warnings to third parties are generally ineffective. But requiring them to contact the police to report their patients chills therapeutic trust.

C.  Physicians Need Greater Autonomy to Practice Ethical Medicine

In Cruzan v. Director, Missouri Department of Health, 497 U.S. 261 (1990), the Supreme Court recognized that competent patients have a “constitutionally protected liberty interest in refusing unwanted medical treatment” under the Fourteenth Amendment.343Cruzan v. Dir., Mo. Dep’t of Health, 497 U.S. 261, 278 (1990). While this has been interpreted as a negative liberty rather than a positive right, it nonetheless underscores the importance of patient autonomy in our nation’s history and tradition. In another case that refused to recognize a right to physician-assisted suicide, the Court heralded the state’s legitimate interest in “protecting the medical profession’s integrity and ethics and maintaining physicians’ role as their patients’ healers.”344Washington v. Glucksberg, 521 U.S. 702, 703–04 (1997). Federal courts have long-recognized that the physician-patient relationship is special and “common law and historical American practices have traditionally trusted individual doctors and their patients with almost complete autonomy to evaluate the efficacy of medical treatments.”345Abigail All. for Better Access to Developmental Drugs v. von Eschenbach, 495 F.3d 695, 703 (D.C. Cir. 2007) (citing Appellants’ Brief at 31). While a legitimate government interest can justify limiting certain rights and is not itself recognition of a right, the articulated state interest in protecting the physician-patient relationship is worth emphasizing.

The Dobbs decision exposes the current Court’s hostility to substantive due process jurisprudence.346See Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Org., 597 U.S. 215, 359–60 (2022) (Breyer, J., Sotomayor, J. & Kagan, J. dissenting). However, there was a time, not too long ago, when the Court recognized patients’ liberty interest in making autonomous medical decisions. Indeed, before the Dobbs about-face, privacy, informed consent, and medical autonomy were considered deeply rooted in our nation’s history and tradition.347See Cruzan, 497 U.S. at 271. Returning to this orthodox view, and bolstering it in other health care contexts, could make it harder for the police to encroach on health care decisions and disrespect patient autonomy. Of course, this will require focusing strategic appellate efforts on future Courts. In the meantime, advocates should try to develop respect for patient autonomy under state constitutions, and in contexts that are less politicized than abortion or trans care. This can provide helpful counterbalancing to the increasing encroachment of law enforcement and the state into health care.

D.  Health Care Providers Need Training on the Difference Between Permissive and Mandatory Disclosures

As discussed above, nurses and physicians comply with police requests for confidential medical data because they are unsure of what they are allowed to do. Consequently, hospitals and clinics therefore must provide better training for their staff on when they can exclude law enforcement from clinical data and spaces. They also must provide real-time security and support if cops threaten staff for not granting them access to this data.

Additionally, nurses and physicians must be trained on the difference between permissible and required disclosures. While HIPAA permits many unauthorized disclosures to law enforcement, it does not require them unless they are accompanied by a judicial order. Institutions should educate providers on the long-term negative health effects of blurring health care and law enforcement, so that they will reject more requests for health data that are not accompanied by a judicial subpoena or warrant.

E.  We Need to Reimagine Health Care as Being Off-Limits from Police

I leave the reader with many open questions about how far my proposal should go. When I first began this project, I asked myself whether my desire to divorce law enforcement from health care could justify keeping medical data from the police even in cases of child abuse or neglect. Every state requires physicians to report suspected abuse, and while the efficacy of these laws is debated, they are thought to at least reduce ongoing abuse. Surely, despite the negative impact of police encroachment on the physician-patient relationship and trust, there could be a way to justify it when innocent children are at risk.

Upon reflection, I realized that I had fallen into a common trap. This trap presents complex social problems such as poverty, homelessness, mental illness, and child abuse as being either handled by the police, or not being handled at all. However, this is a false binary. Physicians should continue to report suspected abuse and neglect, but to trained social workers and abuse prevention experts, not to the police. Police should only be involved much later in the process, if at all, after allegations of abuse are validated through an investigation led by trauma-informed social workers. And even then, we should prioritize addressing and treating the root cause of the abuse, rather than reflexively removing children from the home.348See Anne Zimmerman, Our System for Reporting Child Abuse Is Unethical, Hastings Ctr. (Sept. 29, 2023), https://www.thehastingscenter.org/our-system-for-reporting-child-abuse-is-unethical [https://perma.cc/FJ6Y-MG4L].

Cops are trained to be “authoritative, physical, and commanding”—traits that might be helpful in some policing situations, but are “ineffective” when responding to most health care needs.349Webb, supra note 265, at 824. But because of chronically underfunded social service programs, when people are in crisis, it is the cops who show up. This leads to law enforcement having a de facto monopoly on the provision of many forms of treatment, which are delivered poorly and in ways that violate medical ethics. We simply lack the collective imagination to see many calls to 911 as health problems deserving of compassionate, ethical, and evidence-based treatment by doctors, and not by cops.

On another front, because physicians are easy regulatory levers, states have increasingly been shoehorning politics into medicine. This takes the very thing that makes the physician-patient relationship sacred—trust—and violates it for ulterior government motives. We have seen this recently with bans on gender-affirming care and in the many laws restricting abortion access. Everywhere we look, law enforcement is encroaching on the practice of medicine. To repair the physician-patient relationship, uphold principles of medical ethics, and promote greater trust in health care, we need to keep doctors from becoming cops.

97 S. Cal. L. Rev. 675

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* James I. Farr Professor of Law, Associate Dean for Faculty Research and Development, University of Utah, S.J. Quinney College of Law; B.A. 2000, University of Pennsylvania; J.D. 2004, University of Michigan Law School. She is also Director for the Center for Law and the Biomedical Sciences and a faculty member of the Center for Health Ethics Arts and Humanities (“CHeEtAH”). This research was made possible in part through funding from the Utah Center for Excellence in ELSI Research (“UCEER”). UCEER is supported by the National Human Genome Research Institute of the National Institutes of Health (“NIH”) under award number RM1HG009037.

Oceanic Impunity

Ocean protection is essential to avoid climate disaster. Phytoplankton, seaweeds, and sea grasses produce more than half of Earth’s oxygen—exceeding all terrestrial forests and plants combined—and absorb about ninety percent of the heat generated by rising emissions. Yet oceans continue to be sites for brazen environmental law violations, from illegal fishing to toxic dumping. International criminal law has largely ignored these crimes, even when they amount to offshore environmental atrocities. Meanwhile, legal structures for ocean governance tend to focus on regulatory compliance, self-policing, and dispute resolution, all of which have proved inadequate to protect oceans and coastal communities. Without more global enforcement, environmental criminals will continue to operate with impunity at sea, even as their crimes exacerbate existential climate threats.

Mare liberum or freedom of the seas has been a foundational principle of ocean law for centuries, dating back to the writings of Hugo Grotius. But unconditional free seas are no longer defensible in the Anthropocene. The idea of free seas falsely presumes an inexhaustible ocean too vast to govern. Consequently, governance models based solely on the principle of free seas continue to legitimate careless national policies, destructive relations with marine ecosystems, and exploitation of vulnerable ocean environments. Moving forward the international community must defend oceans as the heritage of all humankind and work together to protect seas against serious environmental harms.

This Article develops a blueprint for targeted forms of international criminalization that would deter offshore ecological destruction. It defends international prosecutions for a range of oceanic environmental crimes, including marine pollution, illegal fishing, and seabed destruction caused by illegal trawling or deep-sea mining. Beyond theories of retribution or deterrence, global criminal prosecutions for environmental harms have expressive value during this time of climate crisis. International criminal convictions showcase humanity’s shared concern for ocean life and marine environments. Criminalization of grave ocean harms would signal an ecocentric shift in international criminal law and aid multilateral efforts to protect marine environments and to promote new legal duties to nature.

INTRODUCTION

Violence and insecurity are common at sea.1See generally William Langewiesche, The Outlaw Sea (2004); Ian Urbina, The Outlaw Ocean (2019). For centuries, seafarers have committed serious crimes and human rights abuses, often with the explicit backing of sovereign governments.2See Lauren Benton, A Search for Sovereignty 158–61 (2010); Brian Wilson, Human Rights and Maritime Law Enforcement, 52 Stan. J. Int’l L. 243, 246 (2016); Emily Haslam, The Slave Trade, Abolition and the Long History of International Criminal Law 1–11 (2020). Oceans are also notorious sites for environmental crimes, including toxic dumping, illegal fishing, and unlawful seabed destruction. Notwithstanding this grim history of oceanic impunity, international criminal law has long neglected oceanic offenses.3This Article uses “ocean” and “sea” interchangeably to refer to all global seas and oceans. Geographically, there are five oceans: the Atlantic, Pacific, Indian, Arctic, and the Southern (Antarctic). There are approximately fifty seas throughout the world, from the Sargasso Sea in the Atlantic Ocean to the Arabian Sea in the Indian Ocean to the South China Sea in the Pacific Ocean. Offshore environmental atrocities, when acknowledged at all, have been prosecuted by domestic law enforcement agencies or adjudicated by federal and state administrative bodies.4See, e.g., Karen Bradshaw, Settling for Natural Resource Damages, 40 Harv. Env’t L. Rev. 211, 219 (2016); Itzchak E. Kornfeld, Of Dead Pelicans, Turtles, and Marshes: Natural Resources Damages in the Wake of the BP Deepwater Horizon Spill, 38 B.C. Env’t Affs. L. Rev. 317, 333 (2011). Accountability gaps persist for grave ocean crimes, especially those that occur beyond national jurisdictional waters.5See Cymie R. Payne, New Law for the High Seas, 46 Ecology L.Q. 191, 192–93 (2019).

Oceans have never been entirely lawless places.6See generally Lawrence Juda, International Law and Ocean Use Management: The Evolution of Ocean Governance (1996). For centuries, state leaders have engaged in various kinds of ocean governance with varying degrees of success.7See David Bosco, The Poseidon Project 4–6 (2021). However, offshore environmental crimes present substantial enforcement challenges for national agencies and international courts, and state efforts to hold criminals accountable for environmental offenses at sea have regularly failed for several reasons.8Michael A. Becker, The Shifting Public Order of the Oceans: Freedom of Navigation and the Interdiction of Ships at Sea, 46 Harv. Int’l L.J. 131, 133 (2005).

For example, vast open seas and limited ocean patrols often hamper criminal investigations and enforcement.9See Ascensión García Ruiz, Nigel South & Avi Brisman, Eco-Crimes and Ecocide at Sea: Toward a New Blue Criminology, 66 Int’l. J. Offender Therapy & Compar. Criminology 407, 410–11 (2022). Sovereignty claims and principles of noninterference create obstacles for criminal prosecutors that target defendants on foreign vessels.10See Josh Martin, A Transnational Law of the Sea, 21 Chi. J. Int’l L. 419, 424 (2021). Conflicts over maritime boundaries and territorial seas also exacerbate interstate tensions over criminal jurisdictions, particularly within contested territorial waters.11See Stephen Cody, Dark Law on the South China Sea, 23 Chi. J. Int’l L. 62, 68–69 (2022). Additionally, international organizations tasked with ocean protection frequently lack effective enforcement mechanisms or adequate resources to address criminality.12Desirée LeClercq, Outsourcing Enforcement, 62 Va. J. Int’l L. 271, 273–74 (2022). Meanwhile, captains flying flags of convenience and corrupt officials at local ports often hide environmental crimes, thereby shielding criminal networks from the monitoring bodies designed to prevent marine pollution and illegal resource exploitation.13Anastasia Telesetsky, Laundering Fish in the Global Undercurrents: Illegal, Unreported, and Unregulated Fishing and Transnational Organized Crime, 41 Ecology L.Q. 939, 953–61 (2014).

Nevertheless, the need for criminal accountability to deter environmental harms and express collective commitments to ocean protection has never been greater. Phytoplankton, seaweeds, and sea grasses produce more than half of the world’s oxygen—more than all forests and plants on land combined—and absorb approximately ninety percent of the heat generated by rising emissions.14Deborah Rowan Wright, Future Sea: How to Rescue and Protect the World’s Oceans 26 (2020); see also Christopher L. Sabine, Richard A. Feely, Nicolas Gruber, Robert M. Key, Kitack Lee, John L. Bullister, Rik Wanninkhof, C. S. Wong, Douglas W. R. Wallace, Bronte Tillbrook, Frank J. Millero, Tsung-Hung Peng, Alexander Kozyr, Tsueno Ono & Aida F. Rios, The Oceanic Sink for Anthropogenic CO2, 305 Sci. 367, 370 (2004); Nathaniel L. Bindoff, William W. L. Cheung, James G. Kairo, Javier Arístegui, Valeria A. Guinder, Robert Hallberg, Nathalie Hilmi, Nianzhi Jiao, Md saiful Karim, Lisa Levin, Sean O’Donoghue, Sara R. Purca Cuicapusa, Baruch Rinkevich, Toshio Suga, Alessandro Tagliabue & Phillip Williamson, Changing Ocean, Marine Ecosystems, and Dependent Communities, in Special Report on the Ocean and Cryosphere in a Changing Climate 447, 450 (Working Grp. II Tech. Support Unit ed., 2019). Without healthy seas, the global community is unlikely to achieve its climate goals or to mitigate ongoing environmental impacts of industrialization. Intense waves and storm surges now regularly devastate coastal communities. Lethal chemicals, sewage, and plastics threaten vital fisheries and marine environments worldwide. The climate crisis and marine deterioration are rapidly transforming ocean governance priorities and underscoring the need for enhanced monitoring and enforcement of environmental protections beyond national jurisdictions.

This Article lays the groundwork for international criminalization of ecological harms at sea. It describes the relational dynamics of oceanic impunity and discusses several options for improving accountability in coastal waters and on the high seas. Most important, international criminal prosecutions should express shared principles and concerns about the climate crisis, underscore global commitments to protect marine environments, and raise awareness about destructive consequences of serious ocean crimes.15Stephen C. McCaffrey, Criminalization of Environmental Protection, in 1 Int’l Crim. L. 1013, 1015–26 (M. Cherif Bassiouni ed., 3d ed. 2008).

International criminalization of activities that destroy ocean ecosystems would signal a common awareness of critical threats to marine environments and national leaders’ willingness to situate humanity within the natural world, not above it.16Avi Brisman & Nigel South, Green Criminology and Environmental Crimes and Harms, Socio. Compass, Jan. 2019, at 1, 5. In contrast to the dominant anthropocentrism of international criminal law, international criminalization of ocean crimes could establish duties to nature independent of direct human victimization and recast international criminal accountability as including crimes against marine flora and fauna.17See Rob White, Ecocentrism and Criminal Justice, 22 Theoretical Criminology 342, 358 (2018). Such an ecocentric shift holds promise for “greening” various aspects of international criminal law.18See, e.g., Rachel Killean, From Ecocide to Eco-Sensitivity: “Greening” Reparations at the International Criminal Court, 25 Int’l J. Hum. Rts. 323, 324–25 (2021). Recognizing international crimes against nature, for example, could influence financial investment in the investigation of ocean crimes, tailor prosecutorial priorities, or improve case selection decisions to better reflect environmental concerns in communities worldwide.19See David R. Boyd, The Rights of Nature 109–30 (2017); see generally Christopher D. Stone, Should Trees Have Standing?—Toward Legal Rights for Natural Objects, 45 S. Cal. L. Rev. 450 (1972); Vito De Lucia, Competing Narratives and Complex Genealogies: The Ecosystem Approach in International Environmental Law, 27 J. Env’t L. 91 (2015).

Part I of this Article conceptualizes oceanic impunity as the embodiment of relationships and interactions between criminal perpetrators and enforcement authorities. Drawing on relational sociology, Part I defines oceanic impunity as a series of unfolding processes and interactions rather than as a permanent state of criminality.20For background on relational sociology, see generally The Palgrave Handbook of Relational Sociology (François Dépelteau ed., 2018); Mustafa Emirbayer, Manifesto for a Relational Sociology, 103 Am. J. Socio. 281 (1997); Ann Mische, Relational Sociology, Culture, and Agency, in The Sage Handbook of Social Network Analysis 80–97 (John Scott & Peter J. Carrington eds., 2011); Mustafa Emirbayer, Relational Sociology as Fighting Words, in Conceptualizing Relational Sociology: Ontological and Theoretical Issues 209 (Christopher Powell & François Dépelteau eds., 2013); Owen Abbott, The Self, Relational Sociology, and Morality in Practice (2020); John Dewey and the Notion of Trans-action (Christian Morgner ed., 2020). Attempting to circumvent both methodological individualism and methodological nationalism, this Article identifies seven transnational dynamics that perpetuate criminality on the world’s oceans and advances a relational approach to study these dynamics.21See generally Andreas Wimmer & Nina Glick Schiller, Methodological Nationalism, the Social Sciences, and the Study of Migration: An Essay in Historical Epistemology, 37 Int’l Migration Rev. 576 (2003). By documenting weak transnational and global enforcement practices, relational approaches to oceanic impunity reveal contemporary barriers to criminal accountability, particularly in seas beyond national jurisdictions.

Part II discusses three ocean crimes—ocean pollution, illegal fishing, and seabed destruction—with consequential effects on marine environments. Part II advances the argument that targeted international criminalization can improve criminal enforcement and accountability for each crime category. International law has long sought to address offshore environmental crimes through treaties and regulatory agreements but monitoring and enforcement challenges have regularly undermined these efforts.

Part III makes the case for targeted international criminalization to supplement existing ocean governance frameworks. By individualizing culpability for offshore crimes against nature, international criminalization creates new modalities for deterrence and novel enforcement mechanisms to address environmental crimes perpetrated beyond national jurisdictions. Selective criminalization through multilateral agreements and international courts can outfit global prosecutors with new tools to address oceanic impunity and ensure protection of marine environments.

Part IV discusses the expanded use of suppression conventions and criminal prosecutions at the International Criminal Court (“ICC”) to combat offshore environmental criminality. Amendments and new protocols to incorporate crimes against nature, including the proposed crime of ecocide, can empower international criminal prosecutors to investigate suspected perpetrators of environmental atrocities at sea.

I.  OCEANIC IMPUNITY

Relational approaches to “objects” of legal research require a different method of legal analysis. Relational scholars recognize the mutual constitution of law and social relations. Ocean crimes and oceanic impunity, therefore, cannot be studied as distinctive social facts independent of concrete relationships and social problems. Understanding oceanic impunity requires accounting for evolving personal and institutional interactions that shape both community perceptions and participants’ own identities and practices. In other words, perpetrators of ocean crimes do not operate independent of governance regimes and enforcement agencies that prohibit and police their offshore activities. They exist only in relation to each other. The study of ocean criminality requires empirical investigation of relations among lawmakers, ocean offenders, and law enforcement authorities whose entanglements construct criminality in complex social fields transcending maritime boundaries. A relational approach seeks to overcome an ontological model of law as something outside of social relations and to capture the full situation of meaning-making between the observer and the observed.22John Dewey & Arthur F. Bentley, Knowing and the Known 203 (1976); François Dépelteau, Relational Thinking: A Critique of Co‐deterministic Theories of Structure and Agency, 26 Sociological Theory 51, 70 (2008); François Dépelteau, Relational Sociology, Pragmatism, Transactions and Social Fields, 25 International Review of Sociology 45, 51 (2015). Oceanic impunity emerges through historically and geographically contingent transactions between legal regimes, law enforcement officials, and ocean outlaws. Offshore criminality, in this sense, is spontaneous, socially complex, and dynamic. It is rarely, if ever, the outcome of free will, rationality, or deeply considered social actions. Shifting oceanic relations are simultaneously constitutive of both lawlessness and order at sea. Study of oceanic impunity therefore requires reflexive empirical investigations and theoretical revision based on changing social practices within national jurisdictions and on the high seas.23See Pierre Bourdieu & Loïc Wacquant, An Invitation to Reflexive Sociology 35 (1992).

Relational sociology also provides an alternative view of criminalization. Ocean crimes are not objective empirical facts to study. They are portals into a diverse set of interpersonal processes created and reproduced by social interactions. As an alternative explanatory framework, relational approaches to criminalization seek to move beyond conceptual antinomies—perpetrators and victims, state and non-state, legal and illegal—to focus analysis on evolving transnational practices, exchanges, and dialogues. Viewing oceanic impunity in this way means that targeted international criminalization does more than establish new crimes or empower prosecutors. It has symbolic effects that can transform social relations. Such expressive power in many cases exceeds the benefits of individualized retributive justice. International environmental criminalization under the right social conditions can encourage greater environmental protection by cultivating new social logics and institutional dynamics better aligned with ecocentrism.

A.  Geography

Geography matters for ocean accountability. Oceans are massive, open spaces. They are difficult to navigate and made dangerous by high winds, changing currents, and inclement weather. Consequently, oceans are hard places for law enforcement to monitor vessels and activities aboard them.24See, e.g., Yvonne M. Dutton, Gunslingers on the High Seas: A Call for Regulation, 24 Duke J. Compar. & Int’l L. 107, 108 (2013). Limited resources for patrols hamper maritime enforcement in territorial waters and on the high seas. Another enforcement challenge created by open water and nautical travel is the limited availability of logistical or medical support for routine maritime operations. Patrol boats may operate as solitary vessels unless they are monitoring shipping lanes, busy harbors, or navigating close to shore. However, while geography certainly matters for oceanic impunity, vast ocean distances cannot completely explain the pervasiveness of offshore criminality.

Advanced satellite imaging and other surveillance technologies, including long-range reconnaissance drones and unmanned submersibles, have increased the visibility of ocean crimes in recent decades. Nonprofit organizations like Global Fishing Watch, Trygg Mat Tracking, and Oceana employ satellite technologies that increasingly make it possible to identify and track particular maritime vessels.25See Gwilym Rowlands, Judith Brown, Bradley Soule, Pablo Trueba Boluda & Alex D. Rogers, Satellite Surveillance of Fishing Vessel Activity in the Ascension Island Exclusive Economic Zone and Marine Protected Area, 101 Marine Pol’y 39, 40 (2019). Vessel tracking technology, big data, algorithms, and artificial intelligence (“AI”) can now be used to estimate apparent fishing efforts and to identify illegal catches in many places.26See Glob. Fishing Watch, https://globalfishingwatch.org [https://perma.cc/8WLX-BYZ7]. While satellite technologies have not yet created an ocean panopticon, they do allow state enforcement agencies to detect a range of ocean crimes, tighten port surveillance, and exercise better control over transitory waterways and commercial shipping channels. New kinds of collaborations between states and nonprofit organizations hold promise for detection of serious ocean crimes. The United States Southern Command (“SOUTHCOM”), for example, has partnered with Global Fishing Watch in recent years to enhance detection of illegal fishing in the Caribbean and the Pacific.27Press Release, Sarah Bladen, Commc’ns & Int’l Affs. Dir., Glob. Fishing Watch, U.S. Southern Command Signs Partnership Agreement with Global Fishing Watch (June 5, 2021), https://globalfishingwatch.org/press-release/southcom_gfw_partnership [https://perma.cc/LS4L-335U].

Several monitoring firms now triangulate public and private data to provide unprecedented real-time surveillance of offshore activities, even across vast geographic areas. Windward, an Israeli based company, uses AI and predictive modeling to create operational profiles of individual vessels, which enables the company to monitor a wider range of private ships. The International Maritime Organization (“IMO”) has registered about 70 thousand maritime vessels worldwide, but Windward tracks more than five times that number using its digitized data.28Omer Benjakob, This Startup Is Using AI to Investigate Crime on the High Seas, Wired (Oct. 3, 2020, 6:00 AM), https://www.wired.co.uk/article/ship-tracking-winward-ai [https://perma.cc/2ZY3-N6VV]. The expansion of AI technologies such as these will likely aid maritime law enforcement in identifying suspect vessels and environmentally damaging activities across vast oceans in the coming years.

However, visual detection of criminality alone may not improve enforcement or impact overall levels of oceanic impunity. Ocean perpetrators increasingly avoid aerial surveillance by shifting operations to different kinds of marine vessels or simply turning off automated tracking systems. Private fishing vessels, for example, are frequently used to hide illicit trafficking activities, evade detection by enforcement agencies, and distribute the costs of interdiction.

B.  Technology

Transforming technologies are another powerful dynamic that shapes oceanic impunity. While new technologies have enhanced states’ capacity to monitor oceans and sometimes improved interdiction operations in coastal waters, they have also facilitated criminal enterprises.

Criminal syndicates increasingly use technology to conceal their offshore activities.29Nilufer Oral, Reflections on the Past, Present, and Future of IUU Fishing Under International Law, 22 Int’l Cmty. L. Rev. 368, 371 (2020). For example, vessel cloaking technologies formerly restricted to advanced naval powers have appeared on global black markets.30Anatoly Kurmanaev, How Fake GPS Coordinates Are Leading to Lawlessness on the High Seas, N.Y. Times (Sept. 3, 2022), https://www.nytimes.com/2022/09/03/world/americas/ships-gps-international-law.html [https://perma.cc/T75A-UPF3]. These new technologies enable ship captains to jam or modify data showing their navigational positions. The U.N. requires all large maritime ships to operate satellite transponders and transmit their geographic positions in real time.31Int’l Mar. Org. [IMO], A.1106(29) (Dec. 2, 2015), Revised Guidelines for the Onboard Operational Use of Shipborne Automatic Identification Systems (AIS), https://
wwwcdn.imo.org/localresources/en/KnowledgeCentre/IndexofIMOResolutions/AssemblyDocuments/A.1106(29).pdf [https://perma.cc/KX48-MCQ2].
But ships using cloaking technologies can transmit false location data to avoid detection in contested waters or to violate international sanctions regimes.32Kurmanaev, supra note 30.

Global fuel tankers, for example, disguise resupply locations to visit sanctioned oil ports in Venezuela, Iran, or Russia, and large container ships use new navigational cloaking technologies to hide shipments of commodities traveling to or from embargoed countries. In 2022, ocean monitoring groups discovered hundreds of ships manipulating onboard transmissions to camouflage their navigational location. Surveillance technologies can increase detection of environmental crimes and mitigate oceanic impunity in some cases. But emerging technologies can also fortify criminal networks and shadow economies that contribute to it.

C.  Sovereignty

The Westphalian system also contributes to oceanic impunity. National maritime jurisdictions established under the 1982 United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (“UNCLOS”) prevent the investigation of many offshore environmental crimes.33See U.N. Convention on the Law of the Sea, Dec. 10, 1982, 1833 U.N.T.S. 433 [hereinafter UNCLOS]. States have criminal jurisdiction over their territorial sea and archipelagic waters, ordinarily the first twelve nautical miles from shore.34UNCLOS, Part II, art. 4. States can further prevent infringements to customs, fiscal, immigration, or sanitary laws and regulations for the next twelve nautical miles where a contiguous zone exists.35UNCLOS, Part II, art. 33. But beyond these waters, state authorities generally lack jurisdiction to investigate or prosecute criminality except on their own flagged vessels or with regard to foreign resource exploitation within their exclusive economic zone.36UNCLOS, Part VII & Part IV. Consequently, most of the open ocean lies beyond any national criminal jurisdiction.37UNCLOS, Part VII.

Moreover, even when environmental crimes amount to flagrant violations of domestic criminal law, state authorities routinely fail to enforce criminal laws in their own territorial seas.38See Urbina, supra note 1, at 47.

National laws can also facilitate illicit ocean activities. Chinese fishing boats, for example, participate in civilian militia patrols in the South and East China seas. To prevent foreign states and international organizations from tracking these fishing vessels, Chinese national security laws forbid sharing data, including vessel tracking data, with international bodies.39See Cody, supra note 11, at 72. Under the cover of domestic Chinese law, the fishing vessels go dark in contested waters.

D.  Flags of Convenience

Flags of convenience are yet another pervasive dynamic contributing to oceanic impunity. In 1927, the Permanent Court of International Justice (“ICJ”) held all ships subject to the laws of their flag state. Vessels registered to a national territory were required to operate under the domestic laws of that state. UNCLOS later required a vessel owner to have a “genuine link” to its flagged state, though generous interpretations of what constitutes such a link have been commonplace.40See UNCLOS, arts. 90, 91. Flag state jurisdiction covers criminal enforcement and typically includes oversight of labor and safety standards and international rules as well as maritime law standards.

However, despite its legacy as a foundational principle of maritime law, there is no immediate consequence for a flag state that fails to monitor registered vessel conditions or to prosecute criminal activities aboard. Consequently, flag state enforcement varies considerably.41Camille Goodman, The Regime for Flag State Responsibility in International Fisheries Law – Effective Fact, Creative Fiction, or Further Work Required?, 23 Austl. & N.Z. Mar. L.J. 157, 159–60 (2009). Some states willfully ignore national and international law. Fictitious shell companies linked to the flag country only by a mailing address commonly appear in national vessel registries. Secondary shell companies often are used to further mask vessel ownership. This layered system of corporate ownership means that flag states seeking to enforce criminal codes or regulations may struggle to identify the relevant person or parties, making criminal accountability difficult. Shell companies not only protect secrecy and insulate owners from culpability but also often provide added financial advantages by allowing owners to transfer vessel profits to jurisdictions with lower tax rates. A 2018 study, for example, found that seventy percent of vessels engaged in illegal fishing were flagged in tax haven countries.42Victor Galaz, Beatrice Crona, Alice Dauriach, Jean-Baptiste Jouffray, Henrik Österblom & Jan Fichtner, Tax Havens and Global Environmental Degradation, 2 Nature Ecology & Evolution 1352, 1352 (2018); see Gohar A. Petrossian, Monique Sosnowski, Dana Miller & Diba Rouzbahani, Flags for Sale: An Empirical Assessment of Flag of Convenience Desirability to Foreign Vessels, Marine Pol’y, March 2020, at 1, 2.

E.  Regulation

Reliance on regulatory compliance is another dynamic that contributes to oceanic impunity. Legal scholars have documented the regulatory turn in international law.43Jacob Katz Cogan, The Regulatory Turn in International Law, 52 Harv. Int’l L.J. 321, 325 (2011). But less attention has been given to how this regulatory turn has undercut criminal accountability for environmental crimes.

Many state officials and environmental groups view ocean protection as a task for administrative agencies, not criminal prosecutors.44Id. at 200. Consequently, environmental treaties typically define adjudication procedures for conflicts between parties but seldom include language that explicitly criminalizes treaty violations.45See Frédéric Mégret, The Problem of an International Criminal Law of the Environment, 36 Colum. J. Env’t L. 195, 219–20 (2011). With this regulatory focus, law enforcement tends to respond to ocean crimes retroactively, which makes the collection of evidence challenging and criminal prosecutions less likely.46See id. at 247.

Further, regulatory approaches tend to place emphasis on guidelines, voluntary codes of conduct, and self-reporting. This often means that international authorities responsible for monitoring compliance shy away from questions of individual criminal culpability for environmental damage. Some fear that insisting on punishments for criminal wrongdoing will threaten regulatory alliances or jeopardize existing conformity to compliance regimes.

Even when domestic laws impose fines for environmental damage or censure offshore activities, authorities often do not seek legal judgments against vessel owners or crew. Individual accountability for environmental harms is rare. Diplomacy and economic policy remain the primary tools state officials use to encourage treaty compliance.

Ocean regulation, while expansive, is also fragmented among countries and within them. National laws governing ocean protection usually involve multiple agencies and complex jurisdictional questions. In the United States, for example, state agencies tend to regulate marine resources in territorial waters, and federal agencies regulate marine resources in the exclusive economic zone (“EEZ”) and continental shelf.47Robin Kundis Craig, Re-Valuing the Ocean in Law: Exploiting the Panarchy Paradox of a Complex System Approach, 41 Stan. Env’t L.J. 3, 23 (2022). The United States is not a party to UNCLOS, but recognizes the maritime boundaries established by the treaty. But even these jurisdictional lines are contested. At least twenty-four coastal states, five island territories, and four Native American tribes make claims to jurisdiction over marine resources in the United States’ ocean territories.48Id. Moreover, even when only a single national law applies, management responsibilities for its regulations may involve various subnational and regional regulatory bodies that complicate lines of authority and enforcement efforts.49See id. at 26. Regulatory compliance regimes also tend to adopt governance models that focus on specific resources, marine species, or geographic territories. This creates a patchwork of narrow, overlapping, and potentially competing interests and complicates enforcement more than a more wholistic, ecological approach that focuses generally on biodiversity protection and ecological sustainability.

F.  Jurisdiction

Conflicts over maritime boundaries are another dynamic of oceanic impunity. Domestic criminal legal systems generally require a nexus between alleged perpetrators’ criminal acts and state claims to maritime jurisdiction. Jurisdictional disputes in contested waters can lead judges to question this nexus and halt criminal investigations and prosecutions. Perpetrators of environmental crimes also purposefully exploit jurisdictional gaps and interstate disputes to avoid obligations under international law.

Although maritime jurisdictions are well defined under UNCLOS, major powers still ignore established maritime limitations. In 2016, for example, the Permanent Court of Arbitration (“PCA”) unanimously rejected China’s claims to historic rights over most of the South China Sea and found that China had violated the Philippines’ sovereign rights by interfering with fishing and resource exploration.50South China Sea Arbitration (Phil. v. China), PCA Case Repository No. 2013-19, 471–77 (Perm. Ct. Arb. 2016). The PCA award, however, did not change Beijing’s territorial claims or dissuade the activities of its military and its civilian maritime militia in the contested waters.51See Jill I. Goldenziel, Law as a Battlefield: The U.S., China, and the Global Escalation of Lawfare, 106 Cornell L. Rev. 1085, 1102–04 (2021). In brazen disregard of the PCA, China has continued to claim the disputed seas as its jurisdiction.52See Lucy Reed & Kenneth Wong, Marine Entitlements in the South China Sea: The Arbitration Between the Philippines and China, 110 Am. J. Int’l L. 746, 747–48 (2016).

Universal jurisdiction might provide an alternative mechanism to combat serious ocean crimes in the future. Historically, states have relied on universal jurisdiction to prosecute pirates and slave traders as enemies of all humankind.53See generally M. Cherif Bassiouni, Universal Jurisdiction for International Crimes: Historical Perspectives and Contemporary Practice, 42 Va. J. Int’l L. 81 (2001). However, the international community has yet to apply the principle of universal jurisdiction to environmental crimes.54UNEP, Observations on The Scope and Application of The Principle of Universal Jurisdiction, https://www.un.org/en/ga/sixth/75/universal_jurisdiction/unep_e.pdf [https://perma.cc/747J-F52J].

G.  Corruption

Corruption is yet another crucial dynamic that contributes to oceanic impunity. National and coastal economies regularly benefit from oceanic impunity, particularly from fisheries that are unlawfully exploitative.55See Don Liddick, The Dimensions of a Transnational Crime Problem: The Case of IUU Fishing, 17 Trends Org. Crime 290, 293–95 (2014). Intentionally permissive state compliance regimes and local officials who act outside legal boundaries can generate windfall profits for local authorities. State leaders may neglect enforcement in exchange for direct payments. In some cases, they build cottage industries to aid in the illegal collection of certain marine species, such as sharks and whales.56See, e.g., David D. Caron, The International Whaling Commission and the North Atlantic Marine Mammal Commission: The Institutional Risks of Coercion in Consensual Structures, 89 AM. J. INT’L 154, 159 (1995); See generally, Keiko Hirata, Japan’s Whaling Politics, in Norms, Interests, and Power in Japanese Foreign Policy (Yoichiro Sato & Keiko Hirata eds., 2008). Rewards of such illegal resource exploitation pool with violating states, even as compliant states bear additional costs of attempted criminal enforcement.

Local officials in some countries also partner with organized crime syndicates, which generally diminishes prospects for criminal accountability.57See generally Emma Witbooi, Kamal-Deen Ali, Mas Achmad Santosa, Gail Hurley, Yunus Husein, Sarika Maharaj, Ifesinachi Okafor-Yarwood, Inés Arroyo Quiroz & Omar Salas, Organized Crime in the Fisheries Sector Threatens a Sustainable Ocean Economy, 588 Nature 48 (2020). Threats of violence from members of criminal organizations tend to suppress local complaints and severely restrict community cooperation with outside criminal investigations. Environmental crimes perpetrated by organized criminal groups may also be associated with other criminal activities, such as money laundering, trafficking, and forced labor.

II.  OCEAN CRIMES

Environmental ocean crimes are not expressly defined under international law.58Vasco Becker-Weinberg, Recognition of Maritime Environmental Crimes Within International Law, in The Environmental Rule of Law for Oceans (Froukje Maria Platjouw and Alla Pozdnakova Eds.) 207-209 (2023). Despite overwhelming empirical evidence that offshore environmental harms are global problems with impacts far beyond any single national jurisdiction, no global framework defines normative principles or articulates national obligations to combat environmental sea crimes. Instead, criminalizing ocean destruction depends exclusively on national lawmaking and ratification of treaties or environmental agreements.

Several well-established multilateral environmental agreements (“MEAs”) incorporate provisions that criminalize environmental harms at sea.59International Convention for the Prevention of Pollution from Ships art. 4, Feb. 17, 1978, 1340 U.N.T.S. 185–86 [hereinafter MARPOL Protocol]. The Basel Convention on the Control of Transboundary Movements of Hazardous Wastes (“BASEL”), for example, states that “illegal traffic in hazardous wastes or other wastes is criminal.”60Basel Convention on the Control of Transboundary Movements of Hazardous Waste and Their Disposal art. 3, Mar. 22, 1989, 1673 U.N.T.S. 132 [hereinafter Basel Convention]. The International Convention for the Prevention of Pollution from Ships (“MARPOL”) also authorizes the use of criminal penalties “to discourage violations” of Convention provisions.61MARPOL Protocol, supra note 59, at 186. Countries often impose criminal penalties for trafficked illicit wildlife, including protected marine species, under the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora (“CITES”).

These and other MEA criminal provisions are useful in combating oceanic impunity. However, most international environmental agreements still focus on regulatory solutions to specific environmental problems and lack adequate monitoring and enforcement mechanisms. In other words, multilateral agreements may aspire to limit marine pollution, avoid fishery exploitation, or revise shipping regulations, but compliance with these agreements still primarily depends on self-policing and domestic administrative oversight. Even where international agreements contain criminal penalties, states often have wide latitude to interpret their legal obligations and broad discretion in enforcing—or not enforcing—criminal sanctions. Ocean governance continues to rely, ineffectively, on a mosaic of layered customs, treaties, and international environmental agreements that prioritize regulatory solutions and voluntary compliance.62See generally International Convention for the Regulation of Whaling, Dec. 2, 1946, 161 U.N.T.S.; International Convention for the Prevention of Pollution of the Sea by Oil, May 12, 1954, 327 U.N.T.S.; Convention on the Prevention of Marine Pollution by Dumping of Wastes and Other Matter, Dec. 29, 1972, 1046 U.N.T.S.; Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora (“CITES”), Mar. 3, 1973, 993 U.N.T.S.; UNCLOS, supra note 33; MARPOL Protocol, supra note 59; International Convention for the Safety of Life at Sea (“SOLAS”), Nov. 1, 1974, 1184 U.N.T.S.; International Convention on Oil Pollution Preparedness, Response and Cooperation (“OPRC”), Nov. 30, 1990, 1891 U.N.T.S.; Convention on the Conservation and Management of Highly Migratory Fish Stocks in the Western and Central Pacific Ocean, Sept. 5, 2000, 2275 U.N.T.S.

A.  Ocean Pollution

In the Anthropocene, ocean pollution presents unprecedented threats to ocean health. According to the United Nations, ocean pollution constitutes at least eighty-five percent of all marine waste.63A New Declaration to Help Save Our Oceans, United Nations Env’t Programme (July 7, 2022), https://www.unep.org/news-and-stories/story/new-declaration-help-save-our-oceans [https://perma.cc/D2K8-SY89]. Waste disposal at sea dates to early maritime navigation, but the scale and toxicity of ocean pollution has changed over time. In 2021, for example, maritime enforcement agencies in 67 countries identified 1,600 marine pollution offences worldwide in single month.64INTERPOL, Operation 30 Days at Sea 3.0 reveals 1,600 marine pollution offences worldwide, https://www.interpol.int/en/News-and-Events/News/2021/Operation-30-Days-at-Sea-3.0-reveals-1-600-marine-pollution-offences-worldwide [https://perma.cc/CDN9-6CC6]. Human activities are now responsible for fifty-three percent of petroleum discharges to marine environments.65Semion Polinov, Revital Bookman & Noam Levin, Spatial and temporal assessment of oil spills in the Mediterranean Sea, 167 Marine Pollution Bulletin 1, 1 (2021). Illegal oil discharges from commercial vessels are a major source of this ocean pollution.66Ben Vollaard, Temporal Displacement of Environmental Crime: Evidence from Marine Oil Pollution, 82 J. Env’t Econ. and Mgmt., 168, 169–172 (2017). While several multilateral agreements prohibit ocean dumping, few countries invest significant resources to investigate or prosecute offenders, particularly when dumping occurs beyond national jurisdictions.

States agencies and national militaries also dump harmful waste into oceans. The United States, for example, began to dump radioactive waste into the Pacific Ocean after World War II. Between 1946 and 1970, U.S. vessels discarded more than 55,000 containers of radioactive waste.67Learn About Ocean Dumping, U.S. EPA, https://www.epa.gov/ocean-dumping/learn-about-ocean-dumping [https://perma.cc/2YQD-Z29C]. The Russian navy adopted similar dumping practices and continued to dispose of nuclear waste in the Sea of Japan until 1993. Even today, countries are actively considering ocean dumping of nuclear waste. Japan, for example, plans to discard about 1.3 million tons of contaminated radioactive water from the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant into the Pacific when storage runs out at the current facility.68Fukushima: Japan Approves Releasing Wastewater into Ocean, BBC (Apr. 13, 2021, 12:42 AM), https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-56728068 [https://perma.cc/6J23-ADWN]. Discarded poisons, such as DDT, and toxins leaking from spent military munitions pose similar global ecological and health risks.

Plastics pollution needs greater attention, too.69See Donald McRae, Introduction to the Symposium on Global Plastic Pollution, 114 Am. J. Int’l L. Unbound 192, 193 (2020); Gerry Nagtzaam, A Fraying Patchwork Quilt: International Law and Plastic Pollution, 34 Vill. Env’t L.J. 133, 179 (2023). The rough equivalent of one garbage truck of plastic is dumped into the world’s oceans every minute.70Fighting for Trash Free Seas, Ocean Conservancy, https://oceanconservancy.org/trash-free-seas/plastics-in-the-ocean [https://perma.cc/Y2ZY-7LVQ]. Slow plastic breakdown generates microplastics that ocean currents circulate throughout the world. Scientists now find microplastics in marine life from every kind of ocean habitat, from shallow coral reefs to deep-sea trenches.71Anthony L. Andrady, Microplastics in the Marine Environment, 62 Marine Pollution Bull. 1596, 1596–1601 (2011). In May 2019, the Conference of the Parties to the Basel Convention amended Annexes II, VIII, and IX to define plastics as a hazardous waste and outlaw their disposal at sea.72See Adopted Decision BC-14/12 (2019), Basel Convention on the Control of Transboundary Movements of Hazardous Wastes and Their Disposal, Mar. 22, 1989 28 I.L.M. 657 (1989); 1673 U.N.T.S. 125. But international governance and oversight remains haphazard and unreliable.73McKayla McMahon, Tides of Plastic: Using International Environmental Law to Reduce Marine Plastic Pollution, 28 Hastings Env’t L.J. 49, 70 (2022).

Ocean dumping is a quintessential global problem. It inevitably impacts waters beyond sovereign territorial boundaries.74See generally Sandrine Maljean-Dubois & Benoît Mayer, Liability and Compensation for Marine Plastic Pollution: Conceptual Issues and Possible Ways Forward, 114 Am. J. Int’l L. Unbound 206 (2020). Yet few perpetrators are prosecuted for illegal ocean dumping. Without eyewitnesses, investigators often struggle to identify conclusively the precise source of marine pollution. It can also be tricky at trial to prove causality and other elements of criminal offenses, including the perpetrators’ intent or their subjective awareness of the potential for environmental harm. Scientists can detect and measure different types of ocean pollution, but building a case for criminal prosecution generally requires larger-scale investigations by environmental protection and law enforcement agencies.

International law has long struggled to combat toxic pollution. Several international agreements presently prohibit ocean dumping, including the MARPOL and the London Convention.75Gerard Peet, The MARPOL Convention: Implementation and Effectiveness, 7 Int’l J. Estuarine & Coastal L. 277, 278 (1992). UNCLOS also requires states to control marine pollution.76UNCLOS, supra note 40, art. 194, at 478. Further, several regional agreements ban ocean dumping.77See Matiangai V.S. Sirleaf, Not Your Dumping Ground: Criminalization of Trafficking in Hazardous Waste in Africa, 35 Wis. Int’l L.J. 326, 365–66 (2018). However, enforcement of anti-dumping laws is highly uneven. In some countries, waste disposal is tightly regulated with high penalties for violations of domestic environmental protections. In others, enforcement is non-existent. Reporting and compliance problems also persist at the domestic level, with few options to internationalize enforcement.

Selective international criminalization offers a path forward to hold ocean polluters accountable for harmful dumping on the high seas. Current agreements generally lack powers to punish individual violators, especially when dumping happens beyond a state’s territorial waters. Enforcement depends almost entirely on the actions of domestic officials, who may lack resources or an interest in investigating ocean pollution.

Global courts and international prosecutors often have more autonomy than local officials or state agencies to investigate offshore crimes and bring criminal charges. They can also investigate ocean dumping as a crime of omission and prosecute state inaction to stop ocean dumping. If international investigations document ongoing ocean pollution, prosecutors can either charge polluters or threaten prosecution to encourage compliance with existing international prohibitions. The criminal investigations and option to prosecute, even when international prosecutors elect not to bring criminal charges, also expresses a shared global commitment to ocean protection.

As with other international criminal investigations, state leaders may try to obstruct investigations, a practice that is sometimes effective at impeding the criminal process.78See Tatiana E. Sainati, Divided We Fall: How the International Criminal Court Can Promote Compliance with International Law by Working with Regional Courts, 49 Vand. J. Transnat’l L. 191, 200 (2016). But this should not distract from the expressive power that targeted criminalization gives international prosecutors to bring global attention to serious environmental crimes at sea. The mere public threat of prosecution can deter some kinds of ocean destruction, even when criminal investigations or prosecutions never occur.

B.  Illegal, Unreported and Unregulated Fishing

Illegal, unreported, and unregulated (“IUU”) fishing operations are highly-profitable and annually generate between an estimated $10 and $23 billion worldwide.79Telesetsky, supra note 13, at 951. However, the consequences of IUU fishing can be devastating. IUU fishing depletes fish stocks and inhibits long-term sustainability. It undermines domestic and regional fisheries management and, more universally, ocean conservation. A lack of accountability for IUU fishing can also undercut state governance regimes and disadvantage responsible fishers who abide by existing environmental regulations.80See generally How to End Illegal Fishing, Pew (Dec. 10, 2013), https://www.pewtrusts.org/en/research-and-analysis/reports/2013/12/10/how-to-end-illegal-fishing [https://perma.cc/N6EJ-CE7T].

Whales, sharks, turtles, and other protected species have been hunted to near extinction in many regions. IUU fishing tends to target vulnerable marine stocks that are often subject to controls specifically created to prevent fishery collapse. Unreported catches often interfere with essential management plans designed to aid species recovery and to restore the ecological balance, biodiversity, and sustainability of marine environments. IUU fishing also generates food insecurity for coastal communities dependent on local hauls for protein.81See Cornelia E. Nauen & Simona T. Boschetti, Fisheries Crimes, Poverty and Food Insecurity, in Routledge Handbook of Maritime Security 239, 239–41 (Ruxandra-Laura Boşilcă, Susana Ferreira & Barry J. Ryan eds., 1st ed. 2022). Absent effective fisheries enforcement, climate change will likely compound these issues.

Prosecuting IUU fishing offenses can be challenging for a variety of reasons. Fishery managers usually have few resources for patrols or boat inspections and depend on fishers’ self-reporting of their catches and fishing methods. At the same time, the absence of high seas patrols makes detection unlikely beyond coastal waters. Illicit operators can hide illegal catches in several ways. Captains can offload catches to bribed port authorities or others complicit with their criminal enterprise. Fish can be processed offshore or relabeled to avoid detection. Crews from vessels employing illicit fishing methods, such as bottom trawling, can mix their catches with fish caught legally before returning to port.

Decentralized IUU fishing operations regularly cross jurisdictional lines, making it difficult to identify or track illegal boats or to target those most responsible for organizing criminal networks.82See Telesetsky, supra note 13, at 961. Migrants and captive fishers may be forced to work on unregistered ghost ships where they engage in various forms of unregulated or illegal fishing. Those who attempt to leave can be shackled, sealed below deck, or even cast overboard.83Ian Urbina, “Sea Slaves”: The Human Misery That Feeds Pets and Livestock, N.Y. Times, (July 27, 2015), https://www.nytimes.com/2015/07/27/world/outlaw-ocean-thailand-fishing-sea-slaves-pets.html [https://perma.cc/38SX-GQNF]. State enforcement agencies also regularly ignore IUU fishing practices, which offer short-term benefits to coastal communities or provide supplemental income through patronage networks. Corruption and willful blindness to illegality continues to be a major obstacle to oceanic accountability for IUU fishing.

To be clear, there is no shortage of international agreements on fisheries.84See, e.g., G.A. Res. 44/225, at 147–48 (Dec. 22, 1989); Agreement to Promote Compliance with International Conservation and Management Measures by Fishing Vessels on the High Seas, Nov. 24, 1993, 2221 U.N.T.S. 91; Agreement for the Implementation of the Provisions of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea of 10 December 1982 Relating to the Conservation and Management of Straddling Fish Stocks and Highly Migratory Fish Stocks, Aug. 4, 1995, 2167 U.N.T.S. 88; Food & Agric. Org. of the U.N., Code of Conduct for Responsible Fisheries, arts. 1.2, 1.3 (Oct. 31, 1995); Christopher J. Carr & Harry N. Scheiber, Dealing with a Resource Crisis: Regulatory Regimes for Managing the World’s Marine Fisheries, 21 STAN. ENV’T L.J. 45, 47 (2002). But while UNCLOS and the UN Food and Agriculture Organization (“FAO”) are responsible for investigating IUU fishing, these bodies often hamper criminal accountability for perpetrators. Article 73(3) of UNCLOS, for example, authorizes coastal state penalties for fishing violations in EEZs but explicitly forbids imprisonment of offenders absent a bilateral agreement to the contrary.85UNCLOS, supra note 33, art. 73, at 427.

State leaders must balance protection of fish stocks under current international and regional fisheries’ agreements against other state interests, including economic growth and national security. Consequently, many state governments take no notice of IUU fishing when other salient national interests are at stake. This partly explains why government IUU prosecutions are exceedingly rare. National law enforcement authorities often tolerate wrongdoing in their own civilian fishing fleets.

Efforts to combat IUU fishing generally focus on regulatory enforcement and treat illegal catches as management problems to be addressed by administrative state agencies rather than free-standing criminal offenses. State prosecutions and official public accounts of IUU fishing frequently attribute criminality to personal greed and rouge captains, even when sophisticated global criminal syndicates are known to run IUU fishing operations.86See generally Rob White, Transnational Environmental Crime: Toward an Eco-Global Criminology (2011). Targeted international criminalization of IUU fishing can empower international prosecutors to investigate global IUU criminal networks, which often extend beyond any single national jurisdiction.

Some IUU-related crimes, including human trafficking and seafood slavery, are already investigated and prosecuted in national jurisdictions. But international criminalization potentially broadens the scope of criminal culpability to include criminal offenses against the environment. International prosecutors can bypass corrupt port officials and domestic agencies complicit in IUU activities and lead investigations of powerful individuals, including high-ranking corporate financiers, who are involved in global IUU fishing. International criminalization individualizes culpability for serious ecological damages that transgress national jurisdictions. It also facilitates accountability for perpetrators engaged in transnational criminal enterprises that destroy marine environments. Further, following criminal convictions, international courts can order criminal reparations to aid the defense and restoration of depleted fish stocks. Criminalization of grave ocean crimes empowers international courts to serve as sentinels of marine environments.

C.  Seabed Destruction

Seabed ecosystems increasingly face threats from illegal trawling and deep-sea mining.87See, e.g., Charles R. Taylor, Fishing with a Bulldozer: Options for Unilateral Action by the United States under Domestic and International Law to Halt Destructive Bottom Trawling Practices on the High Seas, 34 Environs: Env’t L. & Pol’y J. 121 (2010); Pål Buhl-Mortensen & Lene Buhl-Mortensen, Impacts of Bottom Trawling and Litter on the Seabed in Norwegian Water, 5 Frontiers in Marine Sci 42 (2018). Despite grave and well-documented environmental costs, bottom trawling remains the most common seabed fishing method employed on the high seas.88Kerry Tetzlaff, Bottom Trawling on the High Seas – Protection under International Law from Negative Effects, 9 N.Z. J. Env’t L. 239, 241 (2005); Lissette Victorero et al., Out of Sight, But Within Reach: A Global History of Bottom-Trawled Deep-Sea Fisheries From >400 m Depth, Frontiers In Marine Sci. (2018); Keelin Bogart Ciccariello, Bottom Trawling: A Goldilocks Approach to Evaluating the Right Level for Effective Regulation, 46 Suffolk Transnat’l L. Rev. 35 (2023). Deep sea mining exploration and exploitation activities also increasingly threaten seabed environments.89Stephen Cody & Jeffrey Feldmann, Exploiting Seabed Law, 45 U. Pa. J. Int’l L. 181 (2024).

The Clarion-Clipperton Zone (“CCZ”) in the Pacific Ocean is an area roughly the size of Europe, spanning more than 3,000 miles at depths of 12,000 to 18,000 feet.90National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) Ocean Explorer, Deep-sea Mining Interests in the Clarion-Clipperton Zone (last visited Feb. 15, 2024, 2:00PM), https://oceanexplorer.noaa.gov/explorations/18ccz/background/mining/mining.html [https://perma.cc/CSP5-QUNV]. The CCZ seabed is rich in polymetallic nodules, a potential source of metals needed for lithium-ion batteries and other green energy technologies.91Davide Castelvecchi, Electric Cars and Batteries: How Will the World Produce Enough?, Nature (Aug. 17, 2021), https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-021-02222-1 [https://perma.cc/H6KY-KNHZ]. Deep-sea mining could begin there in the next few years.92Eric Lipton, Secret Data, Tiny Islands and a Quest for Treasure on the Ocean Floor, N.Y. Times (Aug. 29, 2022), https://www.nytimes.com/2022/08/29/world/deep-sea-mining.html [https://perma.cc/FHR4-KDY8]. Because the area lies in international waters, the International Seabed Authority (“ISA”) governs mining in the CCZ.93Exploration Contracts, Int’l Seabed Auth., https://www.isa.org.jm/exploration-contracts [https://perma.cc/J45E-YHMK]. Companies seeking to mine the area must partner with a UNCLOS member country and apply for authorization from the ISA—a UN agency with fifty employees, a modest annual budget, and a jurisdiction that covers half the world.94Lipton, supra note 92. As it stands, more than a dozen international companies have exploration contracts for the CCZ.95Elizabeth Claire Alberts, Deep-Sea Mining: An Environmental Solution or Impending Catastrophe?, Mongabay (June 16, 2020), https://news.mongabay.com/2020/06/deep-sea-mining-an-environmental-solution-or-impending-catastrophe [https://perma.cc/78WJ-BCJU]. A 2022 ocean trial conducted by The Metals Company, a Canadian-based mining company that has partnered with Nauru to start mining the CCZ, generated fierce debate and opposition from some UNCLOS member states, including several states that are now seeking a moratorium on deep-sea mining operations.96Todd Woody, France Puts Future of Deep Sea Mining in Doubt, Bloomberg (Nov. 10, 2022, 3:00 PM), https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2022-11-10/france-puts-future-of-deep-sea-mining-in-doubt [https://perma.cc/KZ92-UJW9].

Understanding the environmental consequences of mining the CCZ is complicated by the depths of mining operations and the current lack of information about deep-sea ecology.97See generally Diva J. Amon, Amanda F. Ziegler, Thomas G. Dahlgren, Adrian G. Glover, Aurélie Goineau, Andrew J. Gooday, Helena Wiklund & Craig R. Smith, Insights into the Abundance and Diversity of Abyssal Megafauna in a Polymetallic-Nodule Region in the Eastern Clarion-Clipperton Zone, Sci. Reps., July 2016, at 1; Rob Williams, Christine Erbe, Alec Duncan, Kimberly Nielsen, Travis Washburn & Craig Smith, Noise from Deep-Sea Mining May Span Vast Ocean Areas, 377 Sci. 157 (2022); Bernd Christiansen, Anneke Denda & Sabine Christiansen, Potential Effects of Deep Seabed Mining on Pelagic and Benthopelagic Biota, Marine Pol’y, Apr. 2020, at 1. Marine scientists estimate that ninety percent of species living in the region earmarked for mining remain undescribed.98Muriel Rabone, Joris H. Wiethase, Erik Simon-Lledó, Aidan M. Emery, Daniel O. B Jones, Thomas G. Dahlgren, Guadalupe Bribiesca-Contreras, Helena Wilklund, Tammy Horton & Adrian G. Glover, How many metazoan species live in the world’s largest mineral exploration region? Current Biology 33(12), 2383-2396 (2023). Mining advocates argue that environmental damage from seabed mining is minimal when compared to land-based operations, and underscore the need for manganese, iron, copper, nickel, cobalt, lead, zinc, lithium, and rare earth elements to transition to green energy.99Prizma, Scoping Document for a Social Impact Assessment for the NORI-D Polymetallic Nodule Collection Project 21–28 (2022), https://metals.co/wp-content/uploads/2022/12/NORI-D-SIA-Scoping-Dec_2022.pdf [https://perma.cc/65TZ-XHPU]. Conservationists strongly disagree with mining advocates about the environmental harms of deep-sea mining. They argue that mining operations will gouge the seabed and cause plumes of sediment to enter the water column and resettle over delicate ecosystems.100Holly J. Niner, Jeff A. Ardron, Elva G. Escobar, Matthew Gianni, Aline Jaeckel, Daniel O. B. Jones, Lisa A. Levin, Craig R. Smith, Torsten Thiele, Phillip J. Turner, Cindy L. Van Dover, Les Watling & Kristina M. Gjerde, Deep-Sea Mining with No Net Loss of Biodiversity–An Impossible Aim, 5 Frontiers Marine Sci., Mar. 2018, at 1, 5. They seek a moratorium on mining until more environmental assessments can be completed on the impact of mining operations.

Presently, the science on the impact of deep-sea mining is nascent.101See generally Malcolm R. Clark, Jennifer M. Durden & Sabine Christiansen, Environmental Impact Assessments for Deep-Sea Mining: Can We Improve their Future Effectiveness?, Marine Pol’y, 2020, at 1. Scientists have limited access to such remote depths and insufficient data on deep-sea species, habitats, and ecosystems. Consequently, deep-sea research has neither produced clear baseline data nor determined how sediment plumes will impact marine life on the sea floor.102See Jeffrey C. Drazen, Craig R. Smith, Kristina M. Gjerde, Steven H. D. Haddock, Glenn S. Carter, C. Anela Choy, Malcolm R. Clark, Pierre Dutrieux, Erica Goetze, Chris Hauton, Mariko Hatta, J. Anthony Koslow, Astrid B. Leitner, Aude Pacini, Jessica N. Perelman, Thomas Peacock, Tracey T. Sutton, Les Watling & Hiroyuki Yamamoto, Midwater Ecosystems Must Be Considered when Evaluating Environmental Risks of Deep-Sea Mining, 117 Proc. Nat’l Acad. Sciences 17455, 17455–56 (2020); see also Jeremy Spearman, Jonathan Taylor, Neil Crossouard, Alan Cooper, Michael Turnbull, Andrew Manning, Mark Lee & Bramley Murton, Measurement and Modelling of Deep Sea Sediment Plumes and Implications for Deep Sea Mining, 10 Sci. Reps. 1, 9 (2020). Scientists continue to identify new marine species during expeditions to the ocean floor but still know little about how mining will impact these species. Many deep-sea species are uniquely adapted living thousands of feet below the surface, where they thrive in near-total blackness and under immense water pressure. At such depths, metabolism and evolution slow, and even minor alterations of the environment can have long-term impacts.

Despite the lack of knowledge about deep-sea species, dozens of countries have started to plan mining operations for the near future. In 2017, Japan was the first country to mine its seabed and chose a location off the coast of Okinawa.103Japan Successfully Undertakes Large-Scale Deep-Sea Mineral Extraction, Japan Times (Sept. 26, 2017), https://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2017/09/26/national/japan-successfully-undertakes-large-scale-deep-sea-mineral-extraction [https://perma.cc/CY6G-KBTT]. Norway also recently discovered rich seabed deposits and authorized further seabed exploration.104Nerijus Adomaitis, Norway Finds “Substantial” Mineral Resources on Its Seabed, Reuters (Jan. 27, 2023, 5:29 AM), https://www.reuters.com/markets/commodities/norway-finds-substantial-mineral-resources-its-seabed-2023-01-27 [https://perma.cc/45KS-VW88]. Mining companies already have begun prospecting for nodules to assess their size, composition, and economic value.105See Norway’s Approval of Sea-Bed Mining Undermines Efforts to Protect the Ocean, 625 Nature 424, 424 (2024). Absent political support for a temporary moratorium on seabed exploitation, large-scale commercial operations will likely begin in the next few years.

In the 1960s, Maltese Ambassador Arvid Pardo declared the seabed “the common heritage of all (hu)mankind.”106Address by Arvid Pardo to the 22nd session of the General Assembly of the United Nations (1967), U.N. GAOR, 22nd sess., U.N. Doc. A/6695 (1967). He advocated for an international governance regime to ensure deep sea resources benefited all of humanity, emphasizing the needs of less developed countries to share in any benefits of seabed exploitation. His advocacy eventually resulted in the Law of Sea Convention and the establishment of the International Seabed Authority. His concern that seabed resources serve our common heritage, in particular, seem prescient today. Technological advances and increased demand for mineral resources have renewed interest in mining the sea floor, especially as land-based mineral deposits decline. But the environmental consequences of such offshore operations are still unknown, and perhaps unknowable in the coming decade.

As demand grows, mining pressures will continue to increase, and more countries will partner with large corporations to exploit the deep sea.107See Christiana Ochoa, Contracts on the Seabed, 46 Yale J. Int’l L. 103, 114–15 (2021). Lackluster supervision of deep-sea mining operations and no real threat of criminal prosecution from partner countries creates well-founded fears that mining companies will be able to operate with impunity.108See Jochen Halfar & Rodney M. Fujita, Danger of Deep-Sea Mining, 316 Sci. 987, 987 (2007). Under ISA contractual arrangements, companies are required to undertake baseline studies and conduct annual environmental assessments.109Michael Lodge, David Johnson, Gwenaëlle Le Gurun, Markus Wengler, Phil Weaver & Vikki Gunn, Seabed Mining: International Seabed Authority Environmental Management Plan for the Clarion–Clipperton Zone. A Partnership Approach, 49 Marine Pol’y 66, 67 (2014). The ISA is tasked with judging these environmental assessment plans and determining the likelihood of compliance before they grant mining permits. However, once companies have permits in hand, the system relies on self-policing. Many conservationists believe this lack of mining operations oversight – combined with companies’ profit motive—will inevitably result in a tragedy of the deep-sea commons.110Scott J. Shackelford, The Tragedy of the Common Heritage of Mankind, 28 Stan. Env’t L.J. 109, 111 (2009).

International prosecutions, however, could help to ensure compliance with ISA regulations and deter companies from intentionally generating severe environmental harms. The possibility of individual criminal punishments for wanton acts of environmental destruction puts company officials on notice.

Further, the reparations processes that follow international criminal prosecutions could provide added resources to coastal communities and oversight agencies if company executives act illegally and conceal their criminal activities. Reparations decisions could also generate funds for the restoration and protection of marine life in the deep sea. Nature is resilient when provided the chance to recover. Criminal prosecutions and post-conviction reparations could help to ensure that environmental damage from mining violations stops with the first bad actor and that damaged sectors have time to recover before other operations can begin.

III.  INTERNATIONAL CRIMINALIZATION

No global organization monitors environmental ocean crime or coordinates national enforcement efforts to protect marine environments. As a result, accountability for offshore environmental crimes depends on an incomplete jigsaw puzzle of enforcement regimes. State agencies and international organizations tasked with combatting transnational organized crime or protecting the marine environment from illegal fishing and toxic dumping often lack the capacity to address even the most egregious and visible ocean violations. Few offshore environmental crimes are ever investigated or prosecuted, even when marine scientists and conservation groups document permanent and extensive environmental harms.

Human rights scholars have rightfully criticized the punitive focus of international law, especially when the focus on criminal accountability and retributive punishment eclipses more reparative approaches to human rights and transitional justice. Some scholars argue that the turn to criminal law in international justice distracts from less visible forms of state violence and global efforts to grapple with persistent structures of social inequality.111Karen Engle, Anti-Impunity and the Turn to Criminal Law in Human Rights, 100 Cornell L. Rev. 1069, 1120–26 (2015). Under this view, criminalization diverts attention and resources from endeavors to combat poverty, racial discrimination, and enduring forms of colonial domination.

Uncritical criminalization is a disturbing problem, and that is not what I suggest here. However, any serious global effort to address the climate crisis will need enforcement mechanisms to provide greater accountability for environmental harms beyond national jurisdictions. Rapid climate changes and environmental degradation demand innovations to improve ocean governance and ensure ocean protection. Targeted international criminalization of serious ocean crimes can provide critical tools to investigate environmental destruction at sea and to deter future harms.112See McCaffrey, supra note 15, at 1015–18. Criminalizing environmental atrocities can also reinforce the legal status of oceans as the common heritage of humankind and encourage a shift toward greater ecocentrism in international justice.

International criminalization could also facilitate the investigation and prosecution of transnational criminal networks and other groups acting in concert to circumvent environmental protections even when national officials oppose accountability efforts. Organized criminal syndicates engage in various types of illegal fishing and toxic dumping that pose significant threats to marine environments. International criminalization could enable criminal cases against syndicate members independent of domestic interest or capacity to bring criminal charges.

International criminalization could further authorize criminal charges in cases where state officials fail to undertake obligatory actions to protect marine environments. Willful inaction, at least under certain conditions, amounts to a crime of omission. National environmental laws routinely fail to protect marine environments because state authorities are unwilling to enforce the rule of law. International criminalization could help to outlaw official inaction that results in serious ocean destruction and advance efforts to establish an international environmental duty of care.113See, e.g., Rob White, Ecocide and the Carbon Crimes of the Powerful, 37 U. Tas. L. Rev. 95, 114 (2018). Even when the international criminal investigation of a state official’s failure to protect the marine environment does not result in criminal charges, it could still encourage greater compliance with existing environmental regulations and improve regional cooperation on ocean governance. International criminalization communicates a global concern for ocean protection that promotes dialogue and cooperation even in the absence of criminal prosecutions. Criminalization of environmental offenses on the high seas could also direct international attention toward invisible ocean harms often neglected by international criminal courts.114See generally Randle C. DeFalco, Invisible Atrocities: The Aesthetic Biases of International Criminal Justice 22–23 (2022).

The present incapacity of the international community to hold perpetrators accountable for ocean crimes abandons nearly all maritime enforcement to state and local officials, who often have vested interests in ongoing practices of oceanic impunity. International criminalization, in contrast, offers a potential solution to the problem of state corruption and complicity. Inadequate domestic enforcement of environmental law frequently results in environmental harms that cross borders and warrant international concern. Mare liberum or freedom of the seas has been a foundational principle of ocean law for centuries, dating back to the writings of Hugo Grotius.115John T. Parry, What Is the Grotian Tradition in International Law?, 35 U. PA. J. INT’L L. 299, 361 (2013); Scott J. Shackelford, Was Selden Right: The Expansion of Closed Seas and Its Consequences, 47 Stan. J. Int’l L. 1, 46–50 (2011). This idea of free seas has remained the backbone of ocean governance. But unconditional free seas are no longer defensible in the Anthropocene. Governance models based solely on the principle of free seas often legitimate careless national policies and encourage exploitation and destruction of vulnerable ocean environments.

Accountability is a primary aim of international justice.116See Mirjan Damaška, What Is the Point of International Criminal Justice?, 83 Chi.-Kent L. Rev. 329, 330–31 (2008). Yet, no single state institution or solitary judicial body can respond to the complex challenges posed by oceanic impunity. Various organizations, law enforcement agencies, and courts play complementary roles in collective responses to transnational criminality and environmental degradation at sea. International criminalization offers a useful, if limited, means to improve accountability for ocean criminality and better coordinate global responses to offshore environmental destruction.

The following section discusses two options for targeted forms of international criminalization. First, the Article discusses the expanded use of suppression conventions to encourage multilateral criminalization of ocean crimes. Criminalization, under the right conditions, enhances environmental compliance and supports international cooperation. Second, the Article discusses Rome Statute amendments that would allow the ICC to investigate certain oceanic crimes of ecocide. Amending the Rome Statute to include the crime of ecocide could transform the ICC into an environmental court of last resort. However, despite the potential benefits of internationally prosecuting ocean crimes, international criminalization should still be viewed as a limited tool for seeking justice and improving environmental ocean protection.

A.  Suppression Conventions and Voluntary Instruments

Suppression conventions are an alternative mechanism for targeted international criminalization. Suppression conventions are multilateral agreements that require signatories to criminalize certain kinds of activities.117Neil Boister, Human Rights Protections in the Suppression Conventions, 2 Hum. Rts. L. Rev. 199, 199 (2002); Roger S. Clark, Some Aspects of the Concept of International Criminal Law: Suppression Conventions, Jurisdiction, Submarine Cables and the Lotus, 22 Crim. L. F. 519, 523 (2011). The threshold for criminalization depends upon the objectives of the sovereign states signing the agreement, but the promise of criminalization signals a mutual commitment to transnational enforcement. Suppression conventions, therefore, help coordinate law enforcement responses by defining substantive legal prohibitions, establishing jurisdictional boundaries, and authorizing procedures for cooperation and investigative methods. Historically, suppression conventions have addressed a range of criminal activities from slavery and human trafficking to serious violations of international and customary law.

Suppression conventions that criminalize environmental harms are particularly salient in the context of oceanic impunity because of shortfalls in environmental monitoring and enforcement in EEZs and on the high seas. The freedom of the seas principle generally sanctions unencumbered maritime navigation and unrestricted resource exploitation beyond national jurisdictions, which disincentivizes the monitoring of oceanic harms and often precludes enforcement actions.

Suppression conventions provide two distinct paths for international criminalization. First, state officials can negotiate new stand-alone suppression conventions. These novel agreements could address a broad range of ocean crimes or be tailored to address a specific category of offshore criminality. For example, like-minded states could establish a suppression convention to address biodiversity loss in designated marine protected areas and as part of the convention members states could collectively criminalize specific activities that result in species or habitat destruction. Alternatively, states concerned about protecting migratory routes for pelagic species could negotiate a suppression convention to criminalize fisheries exploitation near migratory seamounts or agree to collectively police important migratory territories.

Because suppression conventions generally require the incorporation of crimes into national criminal codes, the enactment of suppression conventions could also improve monitoring and enforcement within national jurisdictions, thus improving accountability for oceanic impunity in domestic waters. The domestication of environmental crimes in suppression conventions in some instances could also permit investigations and prosecutions of corporate actors, thereby extending corporate liability for offshore environmental crimes. The utility of these stand-alone suppression conventions would be illustrated if and when a smaller group of interested states developed independent suppression conventions and thereby encouraged a larger community of states to recognize specific ocean crimes.

The second path that suppression conventions offer for international criminalization is that lawmakers already bound by an existing convention could seek to amend it or to enact new protocols that expand its scope. For example, States’ parties to the United Nations Convention against Transnational Organized Crime (“UNTOC”) could file a resolution at the UNTOC Conference of the Parties to categorize certain ocean crimes as serious crimes under the existing framework agreement and, thereby, establish mutual obligations to investigate and prosecute those ocean crimes. States’ parties could also otherwise develop a new protocol outside of the existing framework to supplement the UNTOC. Supplemental protocols have the advantage of cultivating new forms of cooperation among treaty members while also preserving general procedural rules and provisions.

Amendments or additional protocols that incorporate new ocean crimes or binding enforcement provisions could strengthen a range of existing international conventions without scrapping or undermining established agreements. For example, the International Convention for the Regulation of Whaling requires member states to take appropriate measures to punish violators of the convention.118See art. 9, International Convention for the Regulation of Whaling, Dec. 2, 1946, 62 Stat. 1716, 161 U.N.T.S. 72. Present provisions, however, do not include any criminal penalties. Likewise, the Convention for the Prevention of Marine Pollution from Land-Based Sources requires member states to ensure compliance and to punish conduct that contravenes the agreement. But again, the present provisions do not explicitly authorize any criminal punishments. Amendments or additional protocols to established conventions could strengthen enforcement regimes by authorizing some criminal punishments.

Voluntary instruments are an alternative to suppression conventions for criminalization of environmentally destructive activities at sea. They generally operate independent of binding commitments negotiated by participating states. These voluntary instruments, for example, might be simple declarations that define a new ocean crime or articulate a shared commitment to investigate and prosecute a specific environmental harm. While such non-binding instruments often depend on implementation agreements and generally function more as regulatory compliance regimes, they can still accelerate multilateral enforcement coordination and legal harmonization in ocean governance. The adoption of voluntary instruments can further express states’ shared commitment to environmental conservation and communicate a more ecocentric approach to international law.

Suppression conventions and voluntary instruments are no panacea for oceanic impunity. However, they are adaptable instruments of multilateralism and, as such, provide alternative pathways for states concerned with ongoing environmental crimes to strengthen environmental monitoring and enforcement at sea.

B.  International Criminal Courts

International criminal courts are possible mechanisms to investigate and prosecute oceanic impunity. International criminal law has long acknowledged environmental destruction—from aerial bombing campaigns during the Second World War to Agent Orange defoliation programs in the Vietnam War. However, international prosecutors have not traditionally focused on environmental harms in case selection or charging decisions.119See Peter Sharp, Prospects for Environmental Liability in the International Criminal Court, 18 Va. Env’t J. 217, 218 (1999); Payal Patel, Expanding Past Genocide, Crimes Against Humanity, and War Crimes: Can an ICC Policy Paper Expand the Court’s Mandate to Prosecuting Environmental Crimes?, 14 Loy. U. Chi. Int’l L. Rev. 175, 188 (2016). Most acts that cause serious environmental damage are not defined as international crimes whether perpetrated on land or at sea.

1.  Rome Statute

As ratified, only one article in the Rome Statute, the ICC’s legal foundation, addresses environmental crimes. Article 8(2)(b)(iv) defines “war crimes” to include the following:

Intentionally launching an attack in the knowledge that such attack will cause incidental loss of life or injury to civilians or damage to civilian objects or widespread, long-term and severe damage to the natural environment which would be clearly excessive in relation to the concrete and direct overall military advantage anticipated.120Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court art. 8(2)(b)(iv), July 17, 1998, U.N. Doc. A/CONF. 183/9 (emphasis added) [hereinafter Rome Statute].

Article 8(2)(b)(iv) creates possibilities for environmental war crime prosecutions and expands individualized criminal accountability for environmental offenses committed during armed conflicts.121Ryan Gilman, Expanding Environmental Justice After War: The Need for Universal Jurisdiction over Environmental War Crimes, 22 Colo. J. Int’l Env’t L. & Pol’y 447, 453–57 (2011). The Article also recognizes environmental damage as a stand-alone offense that need not relate directly to human injuries. In this way, Article 8(2)(b)(iv) moves away from traditional anthropocentrism in international criminal law and closer to an ecocentric vision of international justice.122See Jessica C. Lawrence & Kevin Jon Heller, The First Ecocentric Environmental War Crime: The Limits of Article 8(2)(b)(iv) of the Rome Statute, 20 Geo. Int’l Env’t L. Rev. 61, 70–71 (2007).

However, Article 8(2)(b)(iv) has significant limitations. The definition of environmental destruction requires that harms be “widespread, long-term and severe” but these terms are undefined. As a result, the ICC Office of the Prosecutor (“OTP”) has wide discretion to interpret the language and to decide what kinds of environmental damage fall under the Article’s purview. The exercise of such discretion can irregularly prioritize environmental crimes and raise questions about both fair notice and equitable enforcement.

Article 8(2)(b)(iv) also includes a proportionality requirement that restricts its applicability during armed conflict.123Rome Statute, supra note 120, art. 8(2)(b)(iv). Article 8(2)(b)(iv) inherits the requirement from Protocol I, which requires that attacks be “excessive in relation to the concrete and direct overall military advantage anticipated.” Protocol Additional to the Geneva Conventions of 12 August 1949, and Relating to the Protection of Victims of International Armed Conflicts, Dec. 12, 1977, 1125 U.N.T.S. 26 [hereinafter Protocol I]. Acts causing environmental damage must be “clearly excessive” in relation to any anticipated military advantage.124Rome Statute, supra note 120, art. 8(2)(b)(iv). This threshold for disproportionate violations gives military officials significant leeway to defend strategic strikes, even when military actions result in severe environmental harms.125See Aurelie Lopez, Criminal Liability for Environmental Damage Occurring in Times of Non-International Armed Conflict: Rights and Remedies, 18 Fordham Env’t L. Rev. 231, 261, 268 (2007). Further, to satisfy the mens rea requirement for the offense international prosecutors must establish the defendant’s subjective knowledge of the attack’s disproportionality, which creates a high threshold that must be crossed to secure convictions for environmental destruction.

Finally, and most concerning, Article 8(2)(b)(iv) only covers environmental damage inflicted during armed conflict.126Tara Weinstein, Prosecuting Attacks that Destroy the Environment: Environmental Crimes or Humanitarian Atrocities?, 17 Geo. Int’l Env’t L. Rev. 697, 699 (2005). Environmental crimes that happen in times of peace, therefore, fall outside the scope of the Article.

2.  Ecocide

The crime of ecocide could provide a pathway to prosecute serious ocean crimes perpetrated outside of armed conflicts. Campaigns to criminalize ecocide as an international crime began in the 1970s but for decades failed to gain widespread public support.127For discussions on the crime of ecocide, see Richard A. Falk, Environmental Warfare and Ecocide – Facts, Appraisal and Proposal, Bulletin of Peace Proposals 4, no. 1 (1973): 80–96; Mark Allan Gray, The International Crime of Ecocide, Cal. W. Int’l L.J 26, no. 2 (1996): 215-271; Polly Higgins, Eradicating Ecocide 61–71 (2015); Polly Higgins, Damien Short & Nigel South, Protecting the Planet: A Proposal for a Law of Ecocide, 59 Crime, L. & Soc. Change 251 (2013); Anastacia Greene, The Campaign to Make Ecocide an International Crime: Quixotic Quest or Moral Imperative?, 30 Fordham Env’t L. Rev. 1, 1–7 (2019); Peter Sharp, Prospects for Environmental Liability in the International Criminal Court, 18 Va. Env’t L.J. 217, 240–42 (1999); Mégret, supra note 45, at 202–03; Darryl Robinson, Ecocide – Puzzles and Possibilities, 20 J. of Int’l Crim. Just. 313 (2022). But growing awareness about environmental degradation and the climate crisis have resurrected past ecocide debates. In February, the European Union Parliament became the first international body to criminalize serious environmental damage as “cases comparable to ecocide.”128Mette Mølgaard Henriksen, ‘Revolutionary’: EU Parliament votes to criminalise most serious cases of ecosystem destruction, euronews., Feb. 27, 2024, https://www.euronews.com/green/2024/02/27/revolutionary-eu-criminalises-the-most-serious-cases-of-ecosystem-destruction [https://perma.cc/FBW2-XDCP]. Advocates for criminalization now include a range of world leaders from environmentalist Greta Thunberg to Pope Francis.129See Sophie Yeo, Ecocide: Should Killing Nature be a Crime?, BBC (Nov. 5, 2020), https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20201105-what-is-ecocide [https://perma.cc/38XE-XRLM] (“Pope Francis has also called for ecocide to be recognised as a crime by the international community, and Greta Thunberg has backed the cause too, donating €100,000 (£90,000) in personal prize winnings to the Stop Ecocide Foundation.”). Viewed amid their concerns about accelerating environmental degradation, supporters emphasize ecocide’s moral force and expressive power.130See generally Carsten Stahn, Justice as Message: Expressivist Foundations of International Criminal Justice (2020). They argue that ecocide prosecutions would raise the global profile of environmental crimes, which are too often treated as second order crimes.

In 2021, an independent panel of international criminal law experts published a definition of “ecocide” for consideration as an amendment to the Rome Statute.131Stop Ecocide Found., Independent Expert Panel for the Legal Definition of Ecocide 5 (2021), https://static1.squarespace.com/static/5ca2608ab914493c64ef1f6d/t/60d7479cf8e7e5461534dd07/1624721314430/SE+Foundation+Commentary+and+core+text+revised+%281%29.pdf [https://perma.cc/WE4E-T3WM]. Subsequent debate on the definition evidences burgeoning interest in the criminalization of ecocide.132See also UCLA Promise Institute for Human Rights Group of Experts, Proposed Definition of Ecocide (2021), https://ecocidelaw.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/Proposed-Definition-of-Ecocide-Promise-Group-April-9-2021-final.pdf [https://perma.cc/RF7R-QRCA]. The panel definition reads: “‘[E]cocide’ means unlawful or wanton acts committed with knowledge that there is a substantial likelihood of severe and either widespread or long-term damage to the environment being caused by those acts.”133Id.

The proposed definition would significantly broaden the scope of criminal culpability for environmental destruction and clarifies some critical statutory terms. As described above, although ICC prosecutors must establish that international crimes are “severe,” “widespread,” and “long-term,” the Rome Statute does not explicitly define these essential terms.134Rome Statute, supra note 120, art. 8(2)(b)(iv). This lack of statutory clarity would make it difficult for OTP to determine whether specific environmental harms would satisfy the legal threshold for ecocide. The new draft definition solves this problem by clarifying the terms as follows:

“Severe” means damage which involves very serious adverse changes, disruption or harm to any element of the environment, including grave impacts on human life or natural, cultural or economic resources;

“Widespread” means damage which extends beyond a limited geographic area, crosses state boundaries, or is suffered by an entire ecosystem or species or a large number of human beings;

“Long-term” means damage which is irreversible or which cannot be redressed through natural recovery within a reasonable period of time.135Stop Ecocide Found., supra note 131.

In addition to clarification of the legal elements, the independent panel definition enables crimes to be prosecuted during peacetime, discarding the previous requirement to show a nexus between the environmental harm and an armed international conflict. This change recognizes that environmental atrocities frequently happen outside of war. The new definition also criminalizes acts irrespective of their connection to a civilian population or the boundaries of state territories. Individuals can be prosecuted for ecocide even when environmental damage does no harm to people. This change potentially brings corporate officials under the scope of criminal culpability if they engage in unlawful or wanton acts when they are aware of the substantial likelihood of severe and long-term environmental damage.

The proposed definition of ecocide further criminalizes acts of omission under some circumstances. With environmental harms, the failure to act—whether to prevent damage or to stop its continuance—can be as devastating as affirmative acts of destruction. Under the draft definition, global prosecutors would have the ability to investigate perpetrators responsible for serious and ongoing environmental dumping, illegal fishing, or unlawful mining operations. In some cases, even gross failures to prevent greenhouse gas emissions could result in potential criminal liability. Expanded international criminal culpability could help to safeguard domestic environmental protections and encourage criminal investigations of state officials complicit in serious oceanic crimes or other significant crimes against nature. Enlarging the scope of criminal culpability could also improve state compliance with environmental treaties, conventions, and voluntary instruments if the threat of international criminal investigation deters violations by state officials and corporate leaders.136See Beth A. Simmons & Allison Danner, Credible Commitments and the International Criminal Court, 64 Int’l Org. 225, 232–34 (2010).

Support for a more ecocentric approach to international criminal justice has not been limited to forces outside the ICC. In recent years, the OTP has gestured toward greater engagement with environmental concerns. In 2016, the OTP issued new guidance requiring international prosecutors to consider environmental consequences in evaluating the gravity of crimes and giving particular weight to crimes that result in environmental destruction, illegal exploitation of natural resources, or illegal dispossession of land.137Int’l Crim. Ct. [ICC], Off. of the Prosecutor, Policy Paper on Case Selection and Prioritisation 13–14 (2016), https://www.icc-cpi.int/sites/default/files/itemsDocuments/
20160915_OTP-Policy_Case-Selection_Eng.pdf [https://perma.cc/DH2Q-Z3G7].
New guidelines also explicitly recognize environmental destruction as a factor in decisions to launch preliminary investigations and select cases for prosecution.138Id. The OTP customarily selects investigations and prosecutions based on the gravity of alleged crimes and on the degree of responsibility of the alleged perpetrators. In the gravity analysis, prosecutors normally consider the scale, nature, manner of commission, and impact of the alleged crimes on human victims.139These elements are generally defined by provisions in the Rome Statute language and ICC Rules of Procedure and Evidence. Harms to the environment are now also weighed as significant factors in the gravity analysis.

ICC member states have also started to lobby for the crime of ecocide and requested investigations into serious environmental crimes. In 2019, for example, several island nations, including Vanuatu and the Maldives, called for ICC member states to consider the addition of ecocide as a core crime at the annual Assembly of States’ Parties Conference. The ICC has also received at least five formal complaints alleging serious environmental crimes in the Brazilian Amazon, opening a preliminary evaluation of its jurisdiction in one of the cases in 2020.140Isabella Kaminski, Calls for international criminal court to end ‘impunity’ for environmental crimes, Mar. 6, 2024, https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2024/mar/26/international-criminal-court-end-impunity-environmental-crimes [https://perma.cc/J72A-UH8Y]. In June 2023, Ukraine officials accused Russia of committing environmental war crimes and ecocide by destroying the Kakhovka dam, which caused severe flooding and environmental damage.141Radina Gigova, Russia Is Accused of Ecocide in Ukraine. But What Does That Mean?, CNN (July 3, 2023) https://www.cnn.com/2023/07/02/world/ukraine-ecocide-dam-collapse-crime-climate-intl-cmd/index.html [https://perma.cc/QZ2N-8APC]. In February 2024, the ICC Chief Prosecutor, Mr. Karim A.A. Khan KC, announced a new policy initiative to advance accountability for environmental crimes. He stated:

“Damage to the environment poses an existential threat to all life on the planet. For that reason, I am firmly committed to ensuring that my Office systematically addresses environmental crimes in all stages of its work, from preliminary examinations to prosecutions. This latest policy initiative is another commitment to this necessary objective.”142Int’l Crim. C.t, The Office of the Prosecutor launches public consultation on a new policy initiative to advance accountability for environmental crimes under the Rome Statute (Feb. 16, 2024), https://www.icc-cpi.int/news/office-prosecutor-launches-public-consultation-new-policy-initiative-advance-accountability-0 [https://perma.cc/474F-M3LH].

3.  Ecocide and Oceanic Impunity

Amending the Rome Statute to include ecocide as a core international crime would likely advance efforts to combat oceanic impunity for several reasons.143See generally Ruiz et al., supra note 9, at 407. Ecocide prosecutions would facilitate ICC investigations of environmental violations committed in the territorial seas of ICC member states and also violations committed by member state nationals. The ICC could claim jurisdiction over ocean crimes committed on ships sailing under member state flags, even when law enforcement authorities in those member states are unwilling or unable to investigate the crimes. While ICC jurisdiction in the EEZs of member states and on the high seas remains in question, ICC investigations would likely avoid some jurisdictional challenges associated with flags of convenience as the most notorious flag states, including Panama and Liberia, are current parties to the Rome Statute.144Many vessels accused of environmental crimes are flagged in countries that are signatories of the Rome Statute.

Making ecocide an international crime could also empower international prosecutors to take on a larger role in environmental protection at sea.145See Patrick J. Keenan, Doctrinal Innovation in International Criminal Law: Harms, Victims, and the Evolution of the Law, 42 U. Pa. J. Int’l L. 407, 437–42 (2020). The ICC operates as an independent judicial institution authorized by the Rome Statute to investigate international crimes and seek accountability even when state officials are complicit in the criminal acts or oppose ICC investigations. As a permanent court of last resort, the ICC has the legal authority to prosecute international crimes when state agencies are unable or unwilling to do so.146Art. 17, Rome Statute. Arguably, a global court insulated from domestic political pressures and interest groups could more effectively monitor criminality at sea and perhaps intervene before severe and long-term ocean violations arise, thereby preventing future environmental harms.147See Leila Nadya Sadat, Crimes Against Humanity in the Modern Age, 107 Am. J. Int’l L. 334, 334 (2013).

Amending the Rome Statute to include the crime of ecocide could lead to major institutional changes for the ICC.148See, e.g., Ammar Bustami & Marie-Christine Hecken, Perspectives for a New International Crime against the Environment: International Criminal Responsibility for Environmental Degradation under the Rome Statute, 11 Goettingen J. of Int’l L. 145, 170–84 (2021). The new crime would broaden the scope of criminal liability to include a range of environmental harms and promote a more ecocentric approach to international justice. For the first time in the history of international criminal law, serious crimes against nature could be prosecuted during peacetime independent of injuries to human beings. Ecocide investigations could also explore forms of “slow violence” that impact the environment.149See generally Rob Nixon, Slow Violence and the Environmentalism of the Poor (2011). Tasked with a duty to protect nature, the ICC could consider scientific indicators of environmental decline and climate impacts in the gravity analysis of alleged crimes. Ecocide prosecutions might also contribute to public dialogues about justice and accountability for coastal communities impacted by extreme environmental changes.150See Martha Minow, Do Alternative Justice Mechanisms Deserve Recognition in International Criminal Law?: Truth Commissions, Amnesties, and Complementarity at the International Criminal Court, 60 Harv. Int’l L.J. 1, 44 (2019). The ICC Chief Prosecutor could take a leading role in shaping the field of international environmental law and global sustainability through preliminary investigations and case selection. Meanwhile, ICC judges could contribute to the development of jurisprudence on international environmental crimes.

Ecocide also potentially expands the significance of the ICC Chief Prosecutor’s proprio motu power and encourages individual informants and nongovernmental sources to report serious environmental crimes directly to the OTP. Under the Rome Statute, ICC inquiries start in one of three ways: member states can refer a situation to the ICC; the UN Security Council, acting under its Chapter VII powers, can refer a situation to the ICC; or the ICC Chief Prosecutor can exercise proprio motu power and independently start an investigation.151Rome Statute, supra note 120, arts. 13(b), 14, 15. Because the ICC Chief Prosecutor has the power to initiate criminal investigations independent of states, informants with information or evidence about serious environmental crimes would have a direct channel to provide information to the court without involving state officials or domestic law enforcement. Informants might likewise report information about global criminal syndicates to the ICC even when they fear retaliation from syndicate members or domestic authorities. The ICC Chief Prosecutor might also properly exercise proprio motu power to express shared normative commitments to environmental protection.152Margaret M. deGuzman, Choosing to Prosecute: Expressive Selection at the International Criminal Court, 33 Mich. J. Int’l L. 265, 268–71 (2012).

Ecocide prosecutions over time might also establish ocean crimes as jus cogens offenses and thereby prevent state derogations from obligations to protect the marine environment in future international agreements. International state practice continues to evolve rapidly in response to divergent forms of ocean criminality. Customary law will also need to adapt to new priorities in ocean governance and environmental protection.153See Michael P. Scharf, Seizing the “Grotian Moment”: Accelerated Formation of Customary International Law in Times of Fundamental Change, 43 Cornell Int’l L.J. 439, 467–68 (2010).

International ecocide prosecutions would signal an ecocentric shift in international criminal justice. Ecocide would be the first international crime to address non-human violations outside of armed conflict. In contrast to previous international crimes, a criminal conviction for ecocide would be possible without any evidence of human injury or suffering. By holding out crimes against nature as the moral equivalents of other atrocity crimes, ecocide prosecutions could advance a vision of international justice that recognizes both our ecological interdependence and the intrinsic value of nature.154Rosemary Mwanza, Enhancing Accountability for Environmental Damage Under International Law: Ecocide as a Legal Fulfilment of Ecological Integrity, 19 Melbourne J. Int’l L. 586, 593–95 (2018). The activities of humanity at sea will likely accelerate in the coming decades and continue to impact climate change.155Jean-Baptiste Jouffray Robert Blasiak, Albert V. Norström, Henrik Österblom & Magnus Nyström, The Blue Acceleration: The Trajectory of Human Expansion Into The Ocean, 2 One Earth 43, 46 (2020). If empowered by the global community to prosecute environmental crimes, the ICC could help to moderate offshore environmental harms by prosecuting those people most responsible for illegal destruction of marine environments and expressing a global commitment to ocean protection.156Tom Caroccia, Rescuing the International Criminal Court: Crimes Against Humanity and Environmental Destruction, 70 Rutgers Univ. L. Rev. 1167, 1183–88 (2018).

The idea of an environmentalist ICC presently seems utopian. But the climate crisis will transform priorities for criminal accountability and international criminal justice in the next decade. In the meantime, the international community can no longer afford to abdicate responsibility for ocean governance to national authorities. The next generation of international prosecutors must merge international environmental law and international criminal law to respond to the urgent and existential environmental threats to oceans and the planet.157Darryl Robinson, Your Guide to Ecocide: Part 1, OpinioJuris (July 16, 2021), http://opiniojuris.org/2021/07/16/your-guide-to-ecocide-part-1/ [https://perma.cc/92Z6-LPWZ].

CONCLUSION

This Article advances a relational approach to the study of oceanic impunity. Building on scholarship in international criminal law, marine ecology, and relational sociology, the Article proposes targeted international criminalization to increase offshore accountability for severe environmental harms.

National law enforcement has mostly failed to protect marine environments or to combat widespread oceanic impunity. State agencies tasked with investigating offshore criminality routinely have insufficient resources to patrol waters under their jurisdiction. Beyond national jurisdictions, no single organization monitors environmental ocean crimes or coordinates law enforcement efforts.

This Article describes three critical ocean crimes—ocean pollution, illegal fishing, and seabed destruction—and suggests two international options for improving accountability at sea. First, suppression conventions could establish compulsory obligations to criminalize certain ocean crimes and encourage the development of multilateral enforcement regimes. Second, international criminal courts could investigate and prosecute serious environmental crimes. Amending the Rome Statute to include ecocide, for example, could empower ICC prosecutors to investigate serious ocean crimes and allow the ICC to operate as an environmental court of last resort. Targeted forms of international criminalization could also help to harmonize definitions of environmental ocean crimes and improve intelligence sharing and evidence gathering in criminal investigations and prosecutions.

In the Anthropocene, international cooperation to end oceanic impunity is essential to confront the climate crisis. Beyond theories of criminal retribution or deterrence, international criminalization and the investigation of serious environmental harms has expressive value. Environmental prosecutions signal an ecocentric shift in international criminal justice and promote a shared global commitment to ocean protection. Recognizing our inextricable relations with nature, ecocentrism presents an ontological challenge to the traditional anthropocentrism of international criminal law.158See generally Boyd, supra note 19; Stone, supra note 19; De Lucia, supra note 19.

Healthy oceans and seas will ultimately depend on more than criminalization, however. International criminal prosecutions are insufficient instruments to achieve comprehensive ocean governance, and criminal punishments alone cannot address the most pressing problems facing oceans or coastal communities. Combatting oceanic impunity and ecological disaster requires deeper commitments to international cooperation. In addition to targeted criminalization, state lawmakers must make oceans a priority and collaborate to protect marine biodiversity beyond national jurisdictions, fund international organizations tasked with ocean governance, and establish more marine protected areas.

97 S. Cal. L. Rev. 637

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* Associate Professor of Law, Suffolk University Law School. Thanks to Amanda Beck, Sarah Burstein, Kevin Davis, William Dodge, Andrew Van Duyn, Laurel Fletcher, Maryam Jamshidi, Chimène Keitner, Steve Koh, Cody Corliss, Katerina Linos, Xander Meise, Saira Mohammed, Sharmila Murthy, Julie O’Sullivan, Dan Richman, Wadie Said, Guillermo Garcia Sanchez, Shayak Sarkar, Daimeon Shanks, David Sloss, Melissa Stewart, Pierre-Hughes Verdier, Joshua Weishart, and participants in the Faculty Workshop on Global Criminal Justice at Boston College, the Northern California International Law Scholarship Workshop at Berkeley Law, and the Junior International Law Faculty Workshop at Boston University. All errors are mine.

Filtered Dragnets and the Anti-Authoritarian Fourth Amendment

Filtered dragnets are digital searches that identify a suspect based on the details of a crime. They can be designed to withhold information from law enforcement unless and until there is a very high probability that the individual has committed the offense. Examples today include DNA matching, facial recognition from photographs or video of a crime, automated child sexual abuse material detection, and reverse geolocation (geofence) searches. More are sure to come, and their wide-scale use will be irresistible to improve the low rates of criminal detection that currently afflict many communities.

However, filtered dragnets imperil society precisely because they detect crime too well. Sudden increases in the detection of criminal conduct will intensify the pathologies of American criminal justice: namely, that too many marginally harmful acts are criminalized, crimes are punished too harshly, and police and prosecutors have too much discretion. If nearly everybody commits some technical violation of criminal law that can be easily detected and harshly punished, all Americans will be at the mercy of the constable’s pity.

These threats are not well constrained by current Fourth Amendment jurisprudence, based on privacy rights, because filtered dragnets detect crime without revealing irrelevant details. Thus, Fourth Amendment theory and doctrine must strengthen the anti-authoritarian objectives endowed in its roots. A search conducted with a filtered dragnet should be considered reasonable only if it is administered in an evenhanded manner, and a subsequent seizure of a person is reasonable only when the misconduct is abhorrent enough to justify arrest and imprisonment.

INTRODUCTION

Nearly forty years ago, Justice Brennan asked his colleagues, who had just given a constitutional stamp of approval to the drug-sniffing dog, to imagine a device “that, when aimed at a person, would detect instantaneously whether the person is carrying cocaine.”1United States v. Jacobsen, 466 U.S. 109, 138 (1984) (Brennan, J., dissenting). Justice Brennan went on to criticize the majority for ignoring not only the privacy interest that is intruded upon, but also the accuracy of the technique (or lack thereof) and “whether the surveillance technique is employed randomly or selectively.” Id. at 140. If the device could detect the presence of cocaine inside a building, “there would be no constitutional obstacle to the police cruising through a residential neighborhood and using the device to identify all homes in which the drug is present.”2Id. at 138. For a thoughtful discussion of this dissenting opinion, see Kiel Brennan-Marquez, Big Data Policing and the Redistribution of Anxiety, 15 Ohio State J. Crim. L. 487, 491–92 (2018). He believed the prospect of police having a tool of near-perfect detection presented a catastrophic threat that the courts have a duty to stop.

We are not too far off from this scenario anymore,3With the exception of conduct that takes place on the Internet and the geolocation of smart devices, the vast majority of human affairs still occurs outside the realm of digitized documentation. That said, sensor technologies, facial recognition, and biometric surveillance are beginning to convert more offline activities into tracked or trackable affairs. Perhaps the technology in development that is most analogous to Justice Brennan’s cocaine device are quantum magnetometry sensors that are sensitive enough to detect materials through walls and underground. See Chris Jay Hoofnagle & Simson L. Garfinkel, Law and Policy for the Quantum Age 31–76 (2022). and some strategies already in use by law enforcement and intelligence agencies are similar to Brennan’s machine. Examples include DNA matching, facial recognition from photographs or video of a crime when it was in progress, automated child sexual abuse material detection, and reverse digital searches (where police use information known about the crime, such as location, timing, or special instrumentalities, to cross-check against service provider data in order to identify a suspect). Many more of these investigative techniques are sure to come, especially if or when the Internet of Things reaches its potential by placing increasingly powerful sensors on nearly every machine.

Twenty-first century policing will increasingly use data collected from tracking and sensing technologies to conduct investigations that work backwards. Law enforcement will use the particulars of a crime as a “fingerprint,” so to speak, to determine who should belong in the pool of suspects. Unlike the standard dragnet, which permits law enforcement to observe large amounts of data and to choose their targets, filtered dragnets force investigations to focus on the evidence of a crime. Computers will automatically scan through data without exposing it and will make a disclosure only when there is probable cause to believe that a person’s data matches the signature of the crime. Moreover, even when data is disclosed, filtered dragnet programs can be designed so that the only data revealed is potentially relevant data; extraneous details can be withheld.

When surveillance technologies meet all these benchmarks—that is, when (1) they are used to find an individual related to a crime (rather than to find a crime related to an individual), (2) when they report details from an otherwise private database only after meeting a high threshold of confidence (e.g., probable cause or higher), and (3) when they withhold details that are ex ante unlikely to be relevant to the current criminal investigation, the nature of that surveillance is different from other types of police work. Filtered dragnets, as I will call them, are structured to avoid many problems traditionally associated with mass surveillance.

Fourth Amendment theory and reasoning is just starting to find its legs in digital search cases,4See Carpenter v. United States, 138 S. Ct. 2206, 2209 (2018) (accessing several days’ worth of geolocation data constitutes a search that will ordinarily require a warrant); United States v. Jones, 565 U.S. 400, 413–15 (2012) (Sotomayor, J., concurring) (arguing that GPS tracking should be a search irrespective of whether a tracking device has physically intruded into a protected area). but filtered dragnets will destabilize criminal procedure law again. They will whittle down most of the privacy rationales for Fourth Amendment protection. Mounting a Fourth Amendment defense will require a litigant to convincingly argue that even though the defendant very likely committed a crime, and even though the police did not see or have discretionary access to data for any other persons and did not even have irrelevant data about the defendant for that matter, the search was nevertheless unreasonable. That sort of privacy über alles argument might work for crimes of questionable legitimacy—drug possession, for example—but it won’t work in the context of universally reviled conduct like murder.

What is more, filtered dragnets may reduce privacy intrusions on net, as compared with current investigation techniques, because they can remove many people from the scope of suspicion who would otherwise become targets of investigation. In other words, filtered dragnets break the privacy-security trade-off because they simultaneously increase criminal detection and privacy. As Bennet Capers has explained, they may be a useful tool to simultaneously tackle under-protection and over-policing problems.5I. Bennett Capers, Techno-Policing, 15 Ohio State J. Crim. L. 495, 496 (2018) (“The task is to reimagine Big Brother so that he not only watches us; he also watches over us—to reimagine Big Brother as protective, and as someone who will be there to tell our side of the story.”); I. Bennett Capers, Crime, Surveillance, and Communities, 40 Fordham Urb. L.J. 959, 989 (2013). For a discussion of the moral injuries when police cause indignities and abuse, see Eric J. Miller, The Moral Burdens of Police Wrongdoing, 97 Res Philosophica (2020). Outright bans of these technologies, as have been advocated in many corners,6See, e.g., Antoaneta Roussi, Resisting the Rise of Facial Recognition, 587 Nature 350, 352 (2020) (quoting Woodrow Hartzog, who described facial recognition technology as the “most dangerous ever to be invented”); Kate Conger, Richard Fausset & Serge F. Kovaleski, San Francisco Bans Facial Recognition Technology, N.Y. Times (May 14, 2019), https://www.nytimes.com/2019/05/14/us/facial-recognition-ban-sanfrancisco [https://perma.cc/858W-&M6N] (quoting ACLU attorney Matt Cagle, praising the ban as “forward-looking and looks to prevent the unleashing of this dangerous technology against the public”); Matthew Guariglia, Geofence Warrants and Reverse Keyword Warrants Are So Invasive, Even Big Tech Wants to Ban Them, Elec. Frontier Found. (May 13, 2022), https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2022/05/geofence-warrants-and-reverse-keyword-warrants-are-so-invasive-even-big-tech-wants [https://perma.cc/VG22-ENMH]. would be irresponsible.7Undeterred crime is oppressive and unequal, too. James Forman Jr., Locking Up Our Own: Crime and Punishment in Black America 96­­–99 (2018); Alexandra Natapoff, Underenforcement, 75 Fordham L. Rev. 1715, 1715 (2006).

Nevertheless, even if filtered dragnets detect crime and nothing else, they pose serious social risks that Fourth Amendment law and scholarship are ill equipped to handle: What happens to Fourth Amendment theory and the practice of criminal justice if nearly every crime could be detected?

In the late 1990s, Larry Lessig asked this very question.8Lawrence Lessig, Code and Other Laws of Cyberspace 18 (1999) (“This difference complicates the constitutional question. The [technology’s] behavior is like a generalized search in that it is a search without suspicion, but it is unlike the paradigm case of a generalized search in that it creates no disruption of ordinary life and finds only contraband. . . . Is [it] constitutional? That depends on your conception of what the Fourth Amendment protects. . . . The paradigm case cited by the framers does not distinguish between these two very different protections. It is we, instead, who must choose.”). He anticipated that digital technologies may create a wedge between the privacy and anti-authoritarian rationales for criminal procedure. But most Fourth Amendment scholars do not even recognize a schism between privacy and anti-authoritarian goals. Instead, they continue to focus on privacy as the key constraint on any police activity that leverages large amounts of personal data. The scholars who have recognized liberty and anti-authoritarianism as a Fourth Amendment lodestar have insisted that all technology-assisted surveillance is a tool of abusive state power per se.9Paul Ohm, The Fourth Amendment in a World Without Privacy, 81 Miss. L. J. 1309, 1334–38, 1346 (declaring that considerations of power seem to be “the amendment’s essence, not merely a proxy for something deeper,” but then equating abuses of state power with the ability to solve crimes faster); David Alan Sklansky, Too Much Information: How Not to Think About Privacy and the Fourth Amendment, 102 Calif. L. Rev. 1069, 1120 (2014) (advocating for Fourth Amendment protection against any electronic surveillance that fails to leave a sphere of refuge or autonomy for the individual); Andrew Guthrie Ferguson, Surveillance and the Tyrant Test, 110 Georgetown L. J. 205, 266 (2021). But see Richard M. Re, Imagining Perfect Surveillance, 64 UCLA L. Rev. Discourse 264, 274–276, 281–285 (2016). Re’s essay, set in the year 2026 and describing a fictitious tool of perfect surveillance and crime reporting, anticipates the need for courts to shift the focus of Fourth Amendment law to the substance of criminal law. As a result, Fourth Amendment scholars lump filtered dragnets with all other surveillance and advocate for the strictest access controls, guaranteeing the continuation of a low rate of criminal detection.

This is the wrong course. The threat from filtered dragnets is tyranny, and the Fourth Amendment will be more effective and coherent if we recognize that. Filtered dragnets will dramatically increase the detection of crime, and this will intensify existing pathologies in American criminal justice that have little to do with privacy. Namely, we have too many crimes, too much punishment, and too much police and prosecutorial discretion. These problems jointly produce the risk of authoritarian power. An overly expansive criminal code paired with harsh penalties ensures that nearly everybody could be subjected to incarceration.10Glenn Harlan Reynolds, Ham Sandwich Nation: Due Process When Everything Is a Crime, 113 Colum. L. Rev. Sidebar 102, 103–04 (2013). See generally Harvey A. Silvergate, Three Felonies a Day: How the Feds Target the Innocent (2011). When the state also has unchecked power to choose where and when to investigate within the ocean of criminal-but-typically-ignored conduct, the populace is at the mercy of the state’s will.11Filtered dragnets, like any tool that cheaply and accurately finds evidence of crime, will not necessarily cause the state to abuse its power, but it will certainly give legislatures, police, and prosecutors a mechanism to abuse power more efficiently if they so choose.

Today, the criminal justice equilibrium rests on an unspoken compromise. The state has broad substantive law, harsh punishment, and unchecked discretion, it is true, but the populace has privacy rights that nearly guarantee low detection, even when police are highly motivated. When filtered dragnets give police near-perfect detection, the bargain has to be renegotiated.

This Article proposes a new grand bargain for Fourth Amendment law: the Supreme Court should recognize filtered dragnets as a legitimate and even desirable tool for criminal investigations. But constitutional rules should guarantee that the substance of American criminal law will be limited to conduct that is commonly recognized as heinous, that the severity of the punishment fits the reprehensibility of the crime, and that the enforcement of criminal laws is equitable and nonarbitrary.12In other words, as described in detail infra Part III, reversing Smith v. Maryland, 442 U.S. 735 (1979) and the third party doctrine will be of minimal relevance to the just use of filtered dragnets. Instead, cases that permit carceral arrest for minor misconduct (Atwater v. City of Lago Vista, 532 U.S. 318 (2001)) and that give police unfettered discretion in investigation and enforcement decisions (Whren v. United States, 517 U.S. 806 (1996)) are of much greater consequence. See infra Part V. Without these civil rights, if the substance of criminal law is left as broad and vague as it is today,13On vagueness and overbreadth, see Silvergate, supra note 10, at XI–XVI. See generally Risa Goluboff, Vagrant Nation (2016); Kiel Brennan-Marquez, Extremely Broad Laws, 61 Ariz. L. Rev. 641 (2019). and if penalties and the impact of prison are as debilitating as they are now, filtered dragnets would give the government the means of exercising tyrannical control through the omnipresent threat of criminal enforcement and the power of discretionary clemency.

This Article proceeds as follows: Part I describes some filtered dragnets that are already in use and lays out the essential features that distinguish them from other investigation tools.

Part II describes the potential social benefits that can be gained from the responsible use of filtered dragnets.

Part III describes the scholarship and caselaw challenging the constitutionality of filtered dragnets on privacy grounds and disagrees with it. By most common-sense meanings of privacy, filtered dragnets are in fact much more private than the sorts of investigations that routinely occur.

Part IV shows that the threat of filtered dragnets comes not in the form of privacy but in the form of tyranny. Perfect detection of crime in a system where criminal statutes are sprawling and criminal penalties are harsh will either create a country of convicts or will give government too much power to engage in selective leniency.

Part V reinterprets the Fourth Amendment prohibition of unreasonable searches and seizures to fit the criminal justice problems that emerging surveillance technologies will cause. The reasonableness of a seizure should depend on whether the defendant’s conduct truly warrants criminal liability and penalties. The reasonableness of a search should depend on both expectations of privacy and on evenhanded investigation practices.

Part VI explains why the Constitution, and the Fourth Amendment in particular, are well suited to carry out this shift even though it would mark a departure from twentieth century precedent.

The agenda laid out in this Article is ambitious—almost embarrassingly so. What I propose here would require a seismic shift in Fourth Amendment principles that would cross the procedural/substantive divide.14Other scholars have advocated for a Fourth Amendment theoretical inquiry that breaks out of a purely procedural lane. Morgan Cloud, Pragmatism, Positivism, and Principles in Fourth Amendment Theory, 41 UCLA L. Rev. 199, 200 (1993) (“The fragmentation of constitutional theory in law school curricula and academic scholarship is nowhere more evident than in the isolation of the fourth amendment from broad currents of contemporary jurisprudence. . . . This isolation has impoverished both fourth amendment theory and general constitutional theory alike.”); William J. Stuntz, The Substantive Origins of Criminal Procedure, 105 Yale L.J. 393, 393–411 (1995). Given that, I take comfort in the fact that I am not painting on blank canvas. This project is a remix of themes developed by Bill Stuntz,15William J. Stuntz, The Collapse of American Criminal Justice (2011). Bennett Capers,16Capers, supra note 5. Elizabeth Joh,17Elizabeth E. Joh, Discretionless Policing: Technology and the Fourth Amendment, 95 Calif. L. Rev. 199 (2007). Bernard Harcourt and Tracey Meares,18Bernard E. Harcourt & Tracey L. Meares, Randomization and the Fourth Amendment, 78 U. Chi. L. Rev. 809 (2011). Chris Slobogin,19Christopher Slobogin, Government Data Mining and the Fourth Amendment, 75 U. Chi. L. Rev. 317 (2008). Mark Kleiman,20Mark A. R. Kleiman, When Brute Force Fails (2009). and many others. Even so, it is awfully presumptuous to suggest courts might start invalidating criminal laws or sentencing rules using a new-fangled conception of the Fourth Amendment. But I will suggest it anyway because it is the only desirable and realistic option. The criminal justice system needs to be transformed in a manner that accepts much greater levels of detection in exchange for many fewer criminal prohibitions and punishments. It is a trade that has to be executed simultaneously in order to avoid disastrous consequences.21Criminal liability and sentencing cannot be reduced unless and until the detection of serious crimes is improved. Otherwise, the inevitable crime wave will turn on the backlash machinery of increased sentences and bloated criminal codes. On the other hand, unleashing filtered dragnet technologies without fixing existing statutes and sentences will expose many more people to criminal liability than is justified and will create too many opportunities for biased or opportunistic enforcement. See infra Part V. No legislative or local government process could pull off a massive rights horse trade of the sort that is required. It can only be accomplished through the style of landmark constitutional cases that, every generation or so, help realign Fourth Amendment operational rules with the ultimate purpose of Fourth Amendment protection.22I am referring here to the transition the Fourth Amendment made from a protection of property interests to a protection of privacy following Katz v. United States, 389 U.S. 347 (1967). See discussion infra Part V.

I.  WHAT ARE FILTERED DRAGNETS?

The progenitors of filtered dragnets have been around for a while. Fingerprinting analysis is a well-known and time-honored method of backwards investigation where the facts from the scene of a crime (the fingerprint markings) are cross-checked against a large stockpile of information in order to make a fairly confident match to a particular suspect.23Davis v. Mississippi, 394 U.S. 721, 727 (1969). Police dogs are another example.24Illinois v. Caballes, 543 U.S. 405, 409 (2005). We know that the mind-boggling sensitivity of a dog’s nose is such that, if it could talk, it could reveal vast amounts of information about a person—what is inside their bag, how their health is, whether they’ve been in recent contact with other people—that are unobservable to we mere humans. In some sense, the mind of a police dog is a treasure trove of personal information that remains inaccessible to police most of the time. But when they are trained to alert to contraband or to specific scents sampled from a crime scene, the dog and the training combine to create a “binary search”—a mechanism that tells the police nothing unless there is probable cause that a crime is being committed.25Jane Bambauer, Defending the Dog, 91 Ore. L. Rev. 1203, 1203 (2013).

These crime-driven, quasi-filtered investigations are the outliers in a system of police investigation that relies much more heavily on witnesses, confessions, and physical searches.26Throughout this article, I will distinguish suspect-driven investigations from crime-driven searches. See Slobogin, supra note 19, at 322–23 (using the term “event-driven”); Jane Bambauer, Other People’s Papers, 94 Tex. L. Rev. 205, 208 (2015) (using the term “crime-out”). But we can expect the practice to rapidly expand because of the greater amounts and variability of data available for cross-checking the facts of a crime against data from the population of potential suspects.

This Part lays out the two required features of filtered dragnets that will cause an unprecedented shock to Fourth Amendment theory. We will then visit examples of techniques that are already in use that either already satisfy the definition of filtered dragnets or soon will.

A.  Required Elements to Qualify as a Filtered Dragnet

Filtered dragnets provide a suspect’s data to police only if (a) their data matches uniquely criminal details such that there is a high probability they have engaged in criminal conduct; and (b) their data has been pared down to provide only relevant details about the suspected crime to the police. When combined, these features make filtered dragnets a qualitatively different style of police investigation.27Jack Balkin bristles when scholars describe “essential features” of a technology. Jack B. Balkin, The Path of Robotics Law, 6 Calif. L. Rev. Cir. 45, 45 (2015). Suffice it to say that I am defining here a techno-social application of data collection and processing. The same technology can be used in other ways, of course, but then those uses would not meet my definition of a “filtered dragnet.”

1.  Automated Matching of Uniquely Criminal Details

Filtered dragnet investigations will trawl through and process large amounts of data. There is no doubt that they are a dragnet. But to qualify as a filtered dragnet, the filter of the dragnet must constrain the system’s ability to leak information. A filtered dragnet must be programmed to alert police only if an individual’s data matches a unique fingerprint of a crime.28David H. Kaye, Identification, Individualization and Uniqueness: What’s the Difference?, 8 L. Probability & Risk 85, 92 (2009). In other words, the system blinds the police until at least probable cause (and hopefully more suspicion) is established.

Filtered dragnets are a subset of the category of investigations that Christopher Slobogin calls “suspectless searches.”29Christopher Slobogin, Suspectless Searches, 83 Ohio State L.J. 953, 954 (2022) [hereinafter Slobogin, Suspectless Searches]; see Christopher Slobogin, Virtual Searches 127–48 (2022) [hereinafter Slobogin, Virtual Searches]. Slobogin describes many of the same techniques that I do here, but his analysis has less futurism and is more interested in the way the Fourth Amendment should handle suspectless searches right now, when many cannot or do not match to uniquely criminal profiles. But they are a narrow subset. Very few of the suspectless searches that Slobogin analyzes (many of which I describe below) have the potential to become filtered dragnets. As they are practiced today, they will not meet the heightened standards for filtered dragnets because they do not use unique signatures of criminal behavior. For example, geofencing and familial DNA-matching procedures often allow police today to access data about a handful of individuals, all but one of whom are necessarily innocent, in order to help the police create leads for traditional follow-up investigation. To find the Golden State Killer, the FBI found a genetic match to a family member, and then used traditional genealogy to trace from that family member to the suspect.30Paige St. John, The Untold Story of How the Golden State Killer Was Found: A Covert Operation and Private DNA, L.A. Times (Dec. 8, 2020), https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2020-12-08/man-in-the-window [https://perma.cc/7LZU-9JGQ]. The revelation of that family member’s identity would not qualify as matching to “uniquely criminal detail.”

Slobogin argues that even when a small number of people, some of whom are guaranteed not to be the perpetrator (such as somebody whose DNA only partially matches that of the sample from a crime scene), are identified to the police, the intrusion into privacy is fairly minimal and should be handled through Fourth Amendment doctrines that allow for warrantless searches and seizures, like checkpoints.31Slobogin, Suspectless Searches, supra note 29, at 955–56. I agree with nearly all of Slobogin’s proposals about how courts should interpret the Fourth Amendment with respect to these examples. But they still do not meet the criteria I am setting—criteria that, when met, challenge the most basic conceptions of Fourth Amendment privacy. To meet the definition of a filtered dragnet for my purposes, police will remain ignorant to details and identities until there is a high probability that the information identifies and pertains to the perpetrators and no one else.

2.  Nondisclosure of Irrelevant Details

The first requirement on its own ensures that filtered dragnets are analogous to “binary searches” like drug-sniffing dogs—the sort that alert only if there is probable cause of a crime. But there is an additional affordance that should be exploited: filtered dragnets must refine the information that is ultimately disclosed to police by filtering out personal, irrelevant details even about a suspect. This is equivalent to a drug-sniffing dog that could magically produce a suspect’s drugs without any of the rifling through cars and pockets that are necessary today. Thus, the suspect will retain privacy over details that are not relevant to the criminal investigation at hand.

To be clear, neither of these requirements are meant to be absolute guarantees. All systems have error, and even if police are able to set very demanding thresholds for false positives, police will occasionally access licit, irrelevant details when a filtered dragnet falsely identifies a suspect who is then subjected to an arrest or probable cause–based search. But the requirements for disclosure in a filtered dragnet system can be calibrated to fit societal needs and expectations: the chance of false accusation error can be driven down to practically zero if we would like, if we are willing to tolerate the consequences that there will be more false negatives (more crimes that are not detected) or that police departments will need to access more data in order to maintain the same level of detection.

A.  Examples

Next, we will visit a set of backwards investigation techniques that are in use today. These use the particularities of a crime to lead police to a suspect. While most cannot meet the demanding definition of “filtered dragnet” formalized above, with time and additional data resources, they will surely get there.

1.  DNA Matching

DNA-matching investigations use parts (non-revelatory portions) of a DNA sequence produced from a sample collected at a crime scene or from a crime victim in order to identify a suspect using DNA databases. They are an obvious extension of fingerprinting analyses with some souped-up features. First, DNA matching can set a very high threshold of statistical probability of true match (or, in other words, a very low probability of a false match) because each DNA sequence has a large amount of data.32With enough of a sequence for matching, the investigator can have extremely high confidence that the combination of DNA markers will be unique to a single individual. Fingerprint analysis, by contrast, contains a natural limit on how confident an analyst can be that the patterns from prints left at a crime scene would be produced by just one person. Nevertheless, there are still opportunities for DNA matching to produce erroneous results. Erin E. Murphy, Inside the Cell: The Dark Side of Forensic DNA 29–83 (2015). Second, they can make use of popular commercial and ancestry databases for cross-checking and are therefore not limited to identifying individuals who have a history with the criminal justice system.

Third, familial or partial DNA matches are very useful for police investigations in a way that partial fingerprint matching is not. In familial DNA-matching investigations, such as the one that eventually led to the arrest of the Golden State Killer, police departments recover the identity not of the suspect but of one or more of the suspect’s genetic relatives.33David Lazer & Michelle N. Meyer, DNA and the Criminal Justice System: Consensus and Debate, in DNA and the Criminal Justice System: The Technology of Justice 907–08 (David Lazer ed., 2004) (describing “low-stringency” searches on DNA databases that will return results of individuals who are likely to be related to the person whose DNA was sequenced for the crime scene sample). This raises privacy concerns for the relatives whose identities are revealed to law enforcement in the course of finding the perpetrator.34Natalie Ram, Fortuity and Forensic Familial Identification, 63 Stan. L. Rev. 751, 791 (2011). So, as practiced today, familial DNA searches do not fit the definition of a filtered dragnet. They fail the second element (filtering out innocent and irrelevant details) by revealing identities and information about family members who are definitely not the perpetrator of the crime.35One might think these are relatively minor privacy intrusions (equivalent to a witness saying “the murderer was Moe’s cousin”). However, it is conceivable that in the future, if multiple databases are able to be accessed and triangulated, familial DNA matching can be part of a filtered dragnet system that automatically finds a familial match, trawls other data sources in order to identify the correct relative of familial match (based on, e.g., age, location, or personal history of the relatives), and discloses the identity of the suspect and the relevant details only when and if there is sufficient confidence that the correct suspect has been identified.36This is not far-fetched: police already use statistical packages like a service called “What Are the Odds” in order to understand the closeness of the blood relationship between the suspect and the person whose DNA created a familial match, and then they use traditional methods of genealogy research (e.g., cross-checking with Census records and other public records) to find the suspect. Ellen M. Greytak, CeCe Moore & Steven L. Armentrout, Genetic Genealogy for Cold Case and Active Investigations, 299 Forensic Sci. Int’l. 103, 103–04, 107 (2019). All of this can be automated.

DNA evidence holds an esteemed place in criminal justice and public perception. DNA evidence is durable (as long as it is handled properly) and judges and juries can justifiably place a high degree of confidence in the reliability of DNA-matching investigations.37Lazer & Meyer, supra note 33, at 880–81. Other types of data beyond DNA can have these qualities, too, but they provoke much more suspicion and dissent. Distinguishing them from DNA matching will become increasingly untenable.

2.  Facial Recognition

Facial recognition uses large databases of identified photographs (often scraped from the public Internet) to discover the identity of a person who would otherwise be anonymous.38The procedure works by converting images of faces into “face prints”—maps of the contours of an individual’s face—and then cross-checking the maps against each other. Natasha Singer, Never Forgetting a Face, N.Y. Times (May 18, 2014), https://www.nytimes.com/2014/05/18/technology/never-forgetting-a-face [https://perma.cc/L2PZ-DWL3]. The technology can be used as a filtered dragnet when police departments deploy facial recognition on photographic evidence from the scene of the crime.39Facial recognition can also be used when police have already sought and received a warrant for a person’s arrest based on probable cause from other sources and are attempting to locate the suspect. This would also constitute a filtered dragnet. For example, law enforcement has used facial recognition to pin identities to individuals who appeared in surveillance footage from the Capitol on January 6, 2021, as well as to robberies and street crimes.40Kashmir Hill, Your Face Is Not Your Own, N.Y. Times Mag. (Mar. 18, 2021), https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2021/03/18/magazine/facial-recognition-clearview-ai [https://perma.cc/A2CC-GXGG]. Although facial recognition algorithms are less accurate for female and non-white faces,41Patrick Grother, Mei Ngan & Kayee Hanaoka, Nat’l Inst. of Standards and Tech., NISTIR 8280, Face Recognition Vendor Test (FRVT) Part 3: Demographic Effects 48 (2019). industry members claim this is not the case for top-performing algorithms in active use.42Jake Parker & David Ray, What Science Really Says About Facial Recognition Accuracy and Bias Concerns, Sec. Indus. Ass’n (July 23, 2022), https://www.securityindustry.org/2022/07/23/what-science-really-says-about-facial-recognition-accuracy-and-bias-concerns [https://perma.cc/Z2Z2-ZZN6]; Hoan Ton-That, The Myth of Facial Recognition Bias, Clearview AI (Nov 28, 2022), https://www.clearview.ai/post/the-myth-of-facial-recognition-bias [https://perma.cc/4WXT-65Y6].

3.  Automated CSAM Detection

Last year, Apple unveiled a program that would automatically scan iPhoto images and cross-check them against a library of known child pornography when the images were uploaded to the iCloud. Apple had planned to use a hashing technique to check all files sent from Apple devices to be stored on iCloud servers. Essentially, every image received by an Apple phone is converted to a code that corresponds to the visual image.43The hash is a 1:1 transform, meaning that the hash function would convert an image into just one particular string of numbers, and conversely a single code (or string of numbers) would translate into one particular image. This allows Apple to check the hash of every image against a library of hashes that represent known child sexual abuse material (“CSAM”) in order to detect child pornography. However, those who traffic in CSAM would be alert to this and could make minor changes to the image to avoid exact matches. To prevent circumvention, Apple uses a form of perceptual hashing (called NeuralHash) that uses fuzzy matching to detect and alert to images that do not match exactly but are very likely depicting the same image. Apple, CSAM Detection: Technical Summary 4 (2021). When a person’s iPhoto images produce ten matches, Apple employees would automatically be alerted and would share the information with authorities. Thus, while every image would be hashed and cross-checked against child pornography, only the images that matched could lead to a disclosure to law enforcement. Apple has since abandoned its plans in response to criticism,44Lily Hay Newman, Apple Kills Its Plan to Scan Your Photos for CSAM. Here’s What’s Next, Wired (Dec. 7, 2022, 11:11 PM) https://www.wired.com/story/apple-photo-scanning-csam-communication-safety-messages [https://perma.cc/G8SL-RE53]. but the technological capability still exists.

4.  Geofences and Other Reverse Searches

In 2019, a spate of arsons involving vehicles parked in commercial lots was committed in short succession.45In re Search Warrant Application for Geofence Location Data Stored at Google Concerning an Arson Investigation, 497 F. Supp. 3d 345, 351 (N.D. Ill. 2020). Based on the locations, surveillance footage, and similar modi operandi, police had reason to believe that a single set of co-conspirators was involved in all six arsons. When federal investigators requested that the court issue a warrant requiring Google to search its time-logged geolocation records for cellphones that were at or near the scenes of the arsons during the times that they were committed, a U.S. magistrate judge complied.46Id. at 364. This type of process—where police start with the location, approximate time, and other details of a crime and ask service-providers to find a matching account—is known as a “geofence warrant,” and magistrate judges have issued orders authorizing their use under certain conditions. Judges have refused to issue warrants (without deciding whether warrants are actually necessary) when the request cast too wide a net—that is, if too many devices are likely to be identified as matching the search criteria.47E.g., In re Matter of Search of Info. Stored at Premises Controlled by Google, 481 F. Supp. 3d 730, 733 (N.D. Ill. 2020). For example, if police are investigating a crime that took place during a Beyoncé concert, even a geofence with a small radius, during a fairly precise window of time, will draw in too many false matches—too many phones of innocent bystanders. But this concern falls away if police can use multiple details or the intersection of several geofences in order to create a search criteria that will be unique to the perpetrator.48The arson case would have been an ideal investigation to use intersecting geofences. Unfortunately, the government did not request records in that way, and the court did not address the difference between the union and intersection of geofences in its opinion. In re Search Warrant Application, 497 F. Supp. 3d at 345. For example, in one recent case, a perpetrator who was suspected to have cased the location of a murder on the day before he committed it was identified using overlapping geofences from the day before and the day of the murder.49Slobogin, Suspectless Searches, supra note 29, at 954 (citing Tyler Dukes, To Find Suspects, Raleigh Police Quietly Turn to Google, WRAL NEWS (July 13, 2018, 11:07 AM), https://www.wral.com/to-find-suspects-police-quietly-turn-to-google/17377435 [https://perma.cc/BU4W-2Z4Q]). License plate readers, drone footage, Internet of Things data, and satellite surveillance imaging could also be sources of geolocation information in the likely circumstance that criminals begin to leave their devices at home.50Id. at 954–55; Eldar Haber, The Wiretapping of Things, 53 UC Davis L. Rev. 733, 736 (2019).

Geolocation data can be combined with other types of information, too, to form a signature of crime that is more likely to be unique. As an illustration, US intelligence agencies located Osama bin Laden in part by looking for locations where they would expect to find Internet and cell service but in fact found none.51Peter Bergen, Did Torture Help Lead to Bin Laden?, CNN (Dec. 10, 2014, 12:26 PM), https://www.cnn.com/2014/12/10/opinion/bergen-torture-path-to-bin-laden/index.html [https://perma.cc/EJV6-FV6W]. There are data sources outside of location data that can create a signature for reverse searching. For example, while investigating an arson case, the Denver police department sought and received a “keyword warrant”—a court order requiring Google to reveal the account information of users who had recently searched for the address of the arson during a fifteen-day period leading up to the crime.52Celes Keene, Reverse Keyword Searches and Crime, Lexology (Aug. 11, 2022), https://www.lexology.com/library/detail.aspx?g=de2f5b21-a9b1-4650-a911-31dd1f39e671 [https://perma.cc/T8HH-RREJ]. Cyberstalking, child pornography, and many other online crimes have used forms of reverse searches in order to identify the accounts associated with IP addresses that were used to engage in those crimes.53See, e.g., United States v. Forrester, 512 F.3d 500, 505 (9th Cir. 2008); United States v. Hood, 920 F.3d 87, 89 (1st Cir. 2019); United States v. Contreras, 905 F.3d 853, 855–56 (5th Cir. 2018).

5.  Scanners, Sensors, Cameras, and Microphones

Red light cameras were one of the first ventures into automated policing and were also much despised.54Erin Mulvaney & Dug Begley, Opposition Putting a Stop to Red Light Cameras, Hous. Chron. (Apr. 25, 2013, 9:19 AM), https://www.houstonchronicle.com/news/houston-texas/houston/article/opposition-putting-a-stop-to-red-light-cameras-4461447.php [https://web.archive.org/web/20220708020423/https://www.houstonchronicle.com/news/houston-texas/houston/article/Opposition-putting-a-stop-to-red-light-cameras-4461447.php]. These systems used sensors to detect if a car entered an intersection after the light had turned red, took a photograph of the car, and later used the image of the car (and its license plate) to track down the owner and mail a ticket. These systems are not dragnets per se (they do not make use of pre-existing collections of data), but they set the stage for Automatic License Plate Readers that do capture an abundant amount of data in case some particular parts of it are useful later, as when police are searching for a stolen vehicle.55Slobogin, Suspectless Searches, supra note 29, at 955. Similarly, short-range communications technologies can reveal a car’s speed. Joh, supra note 17, at 200.

Patterns that are highly suggestive of crime can also be automatically detected using recording devices with cameras, microphones, or sensors that operate in “always on” mode.56Haber, supra note 50, at 735. One example in use today is ShotSpotter microphones that are constantly “listening” in a public setting but alert the police and save data long term only when the noises captured by the shot-spotter match the sounds of gunshots.57ShotSpotter, ShotSpotter Frequently Asked Questions (2018), https://www.shotspotter.com/system/content-uploads/SST_FAQ_January_2018.pdf [https://perma.cc/3SD4-B2JU]. In theory, Alexa, which also constantly records to respond to watchwords like “Hey Alexa,”58Amazon, How Alexa Works: Wake Word (last visited Feb. 25, 2024), https://www.amazon.com/b?ie=UTF8&node=23608571011 [https://perma.cc/JXB3-246D]. could be designed to detect sounds that are particular to domestic violence or home invasion and automatically alert the authorities.

Other sensitive devices like terahertz scanners can detect when naturally occurring radiation is blocked by metal objects. When the blocking metal objects are gun shaped, the scanners can be programmed to alert.59I. Bennett Capers, Race, Policing, and Technology, 95 N.C. L. Rev. 1241, 1275–77 (2017) (arguing that these tools can lead us to “real reasonable suspicion”). But this is nothing compared to what quantum magnetometry will be able to do in the near future.60Dmitry Budker & Michael Romalis, Optical Magnetometry, 3 Nature Physics 227, 227 (2007). Quantum sensing is so sensitive to minute differences in magnetic fields that the sensors will be able to detect trace amounts of chemicals, even when they are concealed behind walls. So, Justice Brennan’s nightmare scenario is here: we will soon have contraband detection devices.

This survey of suspicionless searches and backwards investigations demonstrates that there is increasing viability and interest in using these types of techniques. The practices currently in use do not usually meet the two formal requirements for “filtered dragnets,” but it is useful to assume they eventually will. By assuming investigations will eventually meet the demanding definition of filtered dragnets, we will be able to state with more rigor precisely why it is we are nervous about these law enforcement technologies, and what the policy or constitutional response should be.

II.  THE ADVANTAGES OF FILTERED DRAGNETS

This Article will eventually explain why filtered dragnets impose serious risks on society that are not adequately (or even nominally) addressed in Fourth Amendment theory. But first, we will explore reasons to embrace, rather than resist, the integration of filtered dragnets into policing.

Filtered dragnets offer several advantages over the investigation practices in common use.61A police investigation strategy cannot be judged without comparison to its next best alternatives. See Tal Z. Zarsky, Governmental Data Mining and Its Alternatives, 116 Penn. St. L. Rev. 285 (2011). These include decreased exposure of innocent details, increased accuracy and efficacy of criminal investigations, increased detection and deterrence of crime, decreased discretion for suspect selection, and decreased risk to witnesses and victims. In combination, these advantages contribute such compelling benefits to society that courts and attorneys should feel a moral obligation to harness their powers as much as possible.

A.  Decreased Exposure of Innocent and Irrelevant Details

Filtered dragnets protect the privacy of innocent individuals, as well as the innocent-and-irrelevant details of a suspect. They protect innocent individuals whose data is scanned in the process by allowing police and courts to set a high standard for false match error. That is, filtered dragnets can be programmed to alert and reveal personal information only when the statistical probability that the person has engaged in crime is greater than 50%, or 80%, or 99%. This would ensure that the number of innocent individuals who are initially approached and investigated will be only a fraction of the number of criminals who are found.62I have called this “hassle”—the imposition of searches, seizures, or even the stress of becoming a person-of-interest, experienced by an innocent person who is targeted based on probable cause. Jane Bambauer, Hassle, 113 Mich. L. Rev. 461, 461 (2015).

Moreover, filtered dragnets limit the type of information that is revealed even about the proper subjects of investigation who have committed a crime. This is a game-changer. If police could have searched a house or a car in a manner that blinded them to everything except contraband or criminal evidence, the text and interpretation of the Constitution would probably differ from what we have today. The closest analogy we have to filtered dragnets, as I have mentioned before, are drug-sniffing dogs. Police dogs are allowed to sniff and alert based on the (mostly defensible) assumption that they will be trained well enough to have a low error rate.63Florida v. Harris, 568 U.S. 237, 238 (2013). The dog sniff and subsequent alert are, controversially, treated as a non-search in Fourth Amendment law unless the dog has trespassed into the home or curtilage of a resident.64Florida v. Jardines, 569 U.S. 1, 6–7 (2013). But once the dog alerts, the police have probable cause to perform an entire human-conducted unfiltered search of a person’s vehicle, home, or effects, thereby revealing intimate and innocent details while they look for contraband. Filtered surveillance is more privacy-protective than drug-sniffing dogs because it can restrict the sort of data that is revealed even as police are verifying that the alert is accurate.

I do not mean to suggest that filtered dragnets avoid all revelations about innocent people or activities. Relevant data disclosed to police as a result of a high probability match will frequently, maybe even usually, reveal information that is not directly tied to wrongdoing. For example, if in the future the police used a system that combines familial DNA matching with other records to identify a sexual assault offender, police may see and use the identity of the family member in order to confirm that the identification is sound and to show how the case was solved to a jury. This could reveal the identity of estranged parents or children of the suspect or could uncover paternity that was not previously known.65Neil Richards, Why Privacy Matters 99 (2021). But this is a consequence of the fact that all successful investigations impose some irreducible privacy costs on the innocent. Even using traditional strategies, police will occasionally and appropriately question a spouse in a manner that reveals the suspect is having an affair or may make other similar sensitive revelations. If the revelations are in service of pursuing a probable cause–backed  investigation, these will be innocent-but-relevant details.66Thus, I disagree with scholars like Neil Richards who suggest that familial DNA matching inevitably presents a risk of a free-for-all where police will routinely learn about paternity or about the genetic propensity for disease. See id. The advantage I describe here pertains to the shielding of innocent-and-irrelevant information.

B.  Increased Accuracy

By definition, filtered dragnets identify suspects and reveal information only when there is a high probability of crime. This is a form of increased accuracy—a reduction in false positive error. (In the next subsection, I will discuss the other form of increased accuracy—the reduction in false negative error—which would allow filtered dragnets, if deployed consistently, to solve more crimes and increase clearance rates.)

If filtered dragnets are held to higher probability standards than standard investigation techniques, they will cause proportionally fewer false starts and erroneous arrests and searches along the way.67Ram, supra note 34, at 788 (identifying the potential for exoneration as a reason to adopt familial DNA matching). Similarly, a more accurate criminal justice system also reduces the potential for abuse, too, because it denies state agents the ability to credibly threaten the innocent. Dhammika Dharmapala, Nuno Garoupa & Richard H. McAdams, Punitive Police? Agency Costs, Law Enforcement, and Criminal Procedure, 45 J. Leg. Stud. 105, 111 (2016) (citing Keith N. Hylton & Vikramaditya S. Khanna, A Public Choice Theory of Criminal Procedure, 15 Sup. Ct. Econ. Rev. 61 (2007)). In time, a shift toward filtered dragnets should decrease the dangers and anxiety that come from false suspicion and conviction at every stage of criminal investigation. Indeed, facial recognition systems that identify a suspect based on photographs or surveillance footage from a crime already outperform the accuracy rates of average eyewitnesses and PC-based warranted searches by a large margin.68False match error rates for facial recognition algorithms are now under 1% in ideal conditions and under 10% when used in the field, and facial recognition services recommend law enforcement use a threshold of 95% confidence. William Crumpler, How Accurate Are Facial Recognition Systems—and Why Does It Matter?, Ctr. Strategic & Int’l Stud. (Apr. 14, 2020), https://www.csis.org/blogs/strategic-technologies-blog/how-accurate-are-facial-recognition-systems-and-why-does-it [https://perma.cc/3YQS-UM7C]. By comparison, eyewitness identification during a lineup has error rates of 20% or more. Gary L. Wells & John W. Turtle, Eyewitness Identification: The Importance of Lineup Models, 99 Psych. Bulletin 320, 320 (1986). The same is true for racial differences in error rates: while some facial recognition technologies were, at least for a time, more likely to produce false matches for photographs of Black faces, the gap in false match error has already been reduced. Stewart Baker, The Flawed Claims About Bias in Facial Recognition, Lawfare (Feb. 2, 2022, 12:57 PM), https://www.lawfaremedia.org/article/flawed-claims-about-bias-facial-recognition [https://perma.cc/E8TC-HV8A]. In any event, even if gaps persist, those gaps may be less bad than the differences in false match error from human systems of suspect identification. And unlike traditional policing methods, facial recognition technology can be calibrated to only produce a match when the risk of a false match is below a certain threshold regardless of the target’s constraining alerts, in other words, to ensure equal false positive rates by race. Setting the false match rate to be equal is equivalent to ensuring that “probable cause” for Black suspects means the same thing it does for whites. For a full articulation of race-conscious analyses of error, see Sandra G. Mayson, Bias In, Bias Out, 128 Yale L.J. 2218 (2019).

Skeptics will have at least two critiques of my optimistic prediction: all systems have some error, and the sort of error that comes from a highly technical and data-driven system might be particularly worrisome since a falsely accused defendant will have to go up against a trusted and more accurate system.69See Andrea Roth, Trial by Machine, 104 Geo. L.J. 1245, 1281 (2016) (describing the “seduction of quantification” in machine processes).

It is true that no investigation tool is free from error, and it is also possible that police, prosecutors, and juries could be at risk of reflexively trusting the results of a filtered dragnet system because they are so reliable. But the premise of the critique might be plain wrong. When a filtered dragnet produces a spurious result, the error could very well be easier to catch than when an informant or witness makes a spurious identification. For example, when a man named Michael Usry was the target of an investigation based on his father’s partial genetic match to crime scene DNA, Usry was cleared as soon as his own DNA sample was collected and analyzed because it did not match the sample collected at the scene of the crime.70Jim Mustian, New Orleans Filmmaker Cleared in Cold-Case Murder; False Positive Highlights Limitations of Familial DNA Searching, NOLA.com (Mar. 12, 2015), https://www.nola.com/article_d58a3d17-c89b-543f-8365-a2619719f6f0.html?mode=comments [https://perma.cc/S3GZ-59DY]; Natalie Ram, Christi J. Guerrini & Amy L. McGuire, Genealogy Databases and the Future of Criminal Investigations: The Police Can Access Your Online Family-Tree Search and Use It to Investigate Your Relatives, 360 Science 1078, 1078 (2018). This should generalize: the more independent sources of data there are, the more protection there should be for innocent.71See Joshua A.T. Fairfield & Erik Luna, Digital Innocence, 99 Cornell L. Rev. 981 (2014). A person wrongly identified by facial recognition is more likely to have a credible digital alibi (e.g., geolocation data that puts them in an entirely different state at the time of a crime) than a wrongly identified person who was accused by a confidential informant.

The facts of United States v. Chatrie72United States v. Chatrie, 590 F. Supp. 3d 901 (E.D. Va. 2022). illustrate the propensity for the erroneous targets of filtered dragnets to be cleared earlier and easier than erroneous targets in traditional investigations. In that case, police used a geofence warrant to access the deidentified location data of individuals who were near the scene of a bank robbery during the hour that the crime took place.73Id. at 917–22. The geofence produced the deidentified location records of nineteen individuals, only one of whom was the perpetrator.74Id. at 920–21. These facts do not fit the requirements of a filtered dragnet because law enforcement accessed and manually examined information related to the eighteen individuals who were not the perpetrator, but we can think of these eighteen as stand-ins for those who are wrongly targeted by filtered dragnet. One hour of anonymous geolocation data conclusively ruled out sixteen of them, and an additional hour ruled out the other two. None of the eighteen were identified (by name or other direct identifier) to the police, and none were questioned.75Id. at 921. By contrast, consider the experiences of two individuals who were briefly implicated in the investigation before the FBI used geofence technologies. Using traditional policing methods, the FBI first investigated the ex-boyfriend of a woman who saw news reports about the bank robbery and called the police to offer a false tip. They also investigated somebody who owned the same kind of car that was used as the getaway vehicle when a bank employee reported the possible tip, but that, too, was a dead end.76Id. at 917. It is not clear from the opinion what sorts of encounters and information-gathering the police used to rule out these two, but I suspect the anxiety and privacy burden absorbed by them was greater, by almost any measure, than the burden to the eighteen individuals whose approximate movements in public during one to two hours were disclosed in deidentified form. If this case is representative, the geofence warrant process should be a method of first resort, rather than last resort, because it is likely to lead more quickly to both the identification of the right suspect and the elimination of wrong ones.

A second skeptical critique is that I am describing the positive qualities of filtered dragnets under the assumption that the systems will be deployed as intended and will not be manipulated or tampered with. This is a legitimate concern to which the long history of flaws in forensic labs can attest.77Murphy, supra note 32, at 29–83; John Solomon, More Wrongdoing Found at FBI Crime Lab, Midland Daily News (Apr. 14, 2013), https://www.ourmidland.com/news/article/More-Wrongdoing-Found-at-FBI-Crime-Lab-7133820.php [https://perma.cc/D43V-8T9L]. The FBI has acknowledged that flawed forensics have affected dozens of death penalty cases. FBI Admits Flawed Forensic Testimony Affected at Least 32 Death Penalty Cases, Equal Just. Initiative (Apr. 29, 2015), https://eji.org/news/fbi-admits-flawed-forensic-testimony-in-32-death-penalty-cases/#:~:text=These%20FBI%20examiners%20trained%20500,those%20defendants%20have%20been%20executed [https://perma.cc/RNX9-KZTH]. But as a comparative matter, data-driven techniques of this sort might be more accountable and auditable than old-school forms of criminal investigation. When the same level of scrutiny and doubt is applied to traditional investigations that would have to continue in the absence of new technologies—the risks of error and manipulation present in eyewitness testimonies, suspect interrogation, or warrant affidavits78Lazer & Meyer, supra note 33, at 917. The Innocence Project found that half of the cases that they selected as being likely to be a false conviction did indeed lead to exoneration once DNA evidence was tested. How did they select these cases? By looking for convictions that were based on the traditional (and highly faulty) forms of evidence that are noisy signals of guilt: testimony from jailhouse snitches and eyewitnesses, the defendants’ confessions, and pseudo-scientific evidence (e.g., hair analysis). Id. at 898–99. Other factors include incompetent defense counsel and police or prosecutorial misconduct.—the prediction that filtered dragnets will be more corrupt and error-prone is hard to believe.79For example, one study found that more than 25% of sexual assault suspects are exonerated when DNA re-analysis becomes available. Peter Neufeld & Barry C. Scheck, Convicted by Juries, Exonerated by Science: Case Studies in the Use of DNA Evidence to Establish Innocence After Trial xxviii (1996). If this sample is typical, the findings imply that the quality of traditional police investigations leading to investigation, arrest, and conviction is rather shoddy.

C.  Increased Detection and Deterrence

The accuracy and efficiency of filtered dragnets can help tackle longstanding social problems of chronically unsolved crime, assuming filtered dragnets are used regularly.80Ram, supra note 34, at 788 (describing increased crime solving as an argument in favor of familial DNA searching). About twenty-five million Americans—8% of the population—suffer from a violent felony or a felony-level theft each year.81Alexandra Thompson & Susannah N. Tapp, U.S. Dep’t. of Just., NCJ 305101, Criminal Victimization, 2021 2–3 (2022). These events are of course disproportionately likely to beset low-income households. While violent crime rates today are still down compared to the high-water marks in the 1980s and early 1990s,82In the U.S., crime rates are quite low in historical terms. Violent crimes have dropped by at least half since the early 1990s, and property crimes have dropped even more dramatically. John Gramlich, What the Data Says (and Doesn’t Say) About Crime in the United States, Pew Rsch. Ctr. (Nov. 20, 2020), https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2020/11/20/facts-about-crime-in-the-u-s [https://perma.cc/R9A8-SDUH]; Rachel E. Morgan & Barbara A. Oudekerk, U.S. Dep’t. of Just., NCJ 253043, Criminal Victimization, 2018 1 (2019). Although crimes of all sorts (particularly murder) have skyrocketed during the COVID-19 pandemic, the pandemic-related stress on social and economic wellbeing make the recent data difficult to interpret. Compare Paul G. Cassell, Explaining the Recent Homicide Spikes in U.S. Cities: The “Minneapolis Effect” and the Decline in Proactive Policing, 33 Fed. Sent’g Rep. 83 (2020) (finding under-policing and under-deterrence as a main cause), with Jeffrey Fagan & Daniel Richman, Understanding Recent Spikes and Longer Trends in American Murders, 117 Colum. L. Rev. 1235 (2017), and German Lopez, The Rise in Murders in the U.S., Explained, Vox (Dec. 2, 2020, 10:35 AM), https://www.vox.com/2020/8/3/21334149/murders-crime-shootings-protests-riots-trump-biden [https://perma.cc/9NZR-HBHC] (suggesting pandemic-related shocks are the primary driver of higher homicide rates). the statistics are still grim, particularly for communities of color. In the U.S., about five people in every 100,000 are murdered each year.83FBI Uniform Crime Report, Crime in the United States 2013, Expanded Homicide Data Table 6, U.S. Dep’t Just., Fed. Bureau Investigation (2013), https://ucr.fbi.gov/crime-in-the-u.s/2013/crime-in-the-u.s.-2013/offenses-known-to-law-enforcement/expanded-homicide/expanded_homicide_data_table_6_murder_race_and_sex_of_vicitm_by_race_and_sex_of_offender_2013.xls [https://perma.cc/W9H4-64BB]. For African-Americans, the rate is above six per 100,000.84Id. (By comparison, the rates in France and Italy are 1.28 and 0.52 per 100,000, respectively.)85Id. The United States, even in its lowest crime period, is still far more crime-ridden than other developed nations. For example, 5.4 out of every 100,000 Americans were killed by homicide in 2016, whereas in France the rate was 1.4 out of every 100,000. See Victims of Intentional Homicide, 1990–2018, United Nations Off. on Drugs and Crime, https://dataunodc.un.org/content/data/homicide/homicide-rate [https://perma.cc/NLL4-FNLL]. In addition to the trauma and losses to crime victims, society also absorbs a range of economic costs and psychological distress in the course of guarding against crime.86See, e.g., David Anderson, The Aggregate Burden of Crime, 42 J.L. & Econ 611, 629–30 (1999); Aaron Chalfin & Justin McCrary, Are U.S. Cities Under-Policed? Theory and Evidence, 100 Rev. Econ. & Stat. 167, 167 (2018); Kathryn E. McCollister, Michael T. French & Hai Fang, The Cost of Crime to Society: New Crime-Specific Estimates for Policy and Program Evaluation, 108 Drug & Alcohol Depend. 98, 98 (2010). It is all too easy for scholars, lawmakers, and others who live in safe neighborhoods to forget: serious crime is just awful.

Crime clearance rates (that is, the proportion of crimes actually reported to the police that have led to an arrest or otherwise been considered solved) for violent crime is 42%, and the rate is under 15% for property crimes.87Crime Clearance Rate in the United States in 2020, by Type, Statista, https://www.statista.com/statistics/194213/crime-clearance-rate-by-type-in-the-us [https://perma.cc/XT5F-EHCQ]; Most Violent and Property Crimes in the U.S. Go Unsolved, Pew Rsch. Ctr. (2017) [hereinafter Pew Property Crimes], https://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2017/03/01/most-violent-and-property-crimes-in-the-u-s-go-unsolved [https://perma.cc/XG8E-6FQ8]; What the Data Says (and Doesn’t Say) About Crime in the United States, Pew Rsch. Ctr. (2020), https://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2020/11/20/facts-about-crime-in-the-u-s [https://perma.cc/92VY-8CGL]. Only about half of violent crimes and one-third of property crimes are ever reported to the police, and many arrests and convictions are erroneous. The low likelihood of reporting a crime, the low clearance rates, and the somewhat sizable chance of false arrest altogether mean that the probability a criminal will be prosecuted for any particular violent crime is probably under 20%.88Statista, supra note 87. The figure for property crime is 7%. Pew Property Crimes, supra note 87.

Clearance rates in black neighborhoods are even worse. The events over the last decade validate Bill Stuntz’s observation that “poor black neighborhoods see too little of the kinds of policing and criminal punishment that do the most good, and too much of the kinds that do the most harm.”89Stuntz, supra note 15, at 497; see also Randall Kennedy, Race, Crime, and the Law 19, 158–60 (1997). Dampening crime in lower income black communities is a civil rights goal of longstanding stature.90Forman, supra note 7, at 11 (“African Americans have always viewed the protection of black lives as a civil rights issue, whether the threat comes from police officers or street criminals.”), 61 (recounting the editorials in journals that served black D.C. neighborhoods that demanded more law enforcement to ensure that black neighborhoods stay peaceful), 128. Bennett Capers described underenforcement as the criminal justice problem that gets short shrift,91Capers, Techno-Policing, supra note 5, at 497. and that was before George Floyd’s murder made police violence and over-policing problems an issue of pressing global salience. There is some squeamishness today in discussing crime in black neighborhoods (and certainly in referring to that crime as “black on black”), but it is foolish to expect criminal justice reform to be lasting and meaningful if it does not tackle both of the scourges of inner-city policing: harsh policing and civilian violence.

The most obvious and natural way to curb future violent crime is to increase the detection of very serious crimes today.92Mark Kleiman’s work catalogued a set of “dynamic concentration” probation and drug treatment programs that were unusually successful at recidivism reduction. Kleiman, supra note 20, at 34–65. They depended on good detection. Id. at 164. Kleiman pointed out that predatory crimes—those that terrorize and corrupt communities the most—are also the hardest to observe. Id. at 165. I am suggesting here that technology may give us the opportunity to run Kleiman-style compassionate crime control programs at a much more ambitious scale. Some scholars, Tom Tyler chief among them, have made the case that in the long run, law-abiding behavior has less to do with criminal law enforcement tactics than with cultural, economic, community, and norms-based factors.93Tom Tyler, Why People Obey the Law 171 (2006). Occasionally, this insight has been oversimplified and distorted to leave the impression that law enforcement detection rates have nothing to do with crime rates.94Shaila Dewan, Refund the Police? Why It Might Not Reduce Crime, N.Y. Times (Nov. 8, 2021), https://www.nytimes.com/2021/11/08/us/police-crime.html [https://perma.cc/U56T-8EPP]. This is a mischaracterization of the evidence.95Even Tyler’s work demonstrates that belief that lawbreakers will be caught and punished has a sizable and statistically significant impact on behavior. Tyler, supra note 93, at 59. While there are multiple “root causes” of crime,96Crime rates are the result of many social and economic factors that fall outside the realm of criminal law enforcement, such as population demographics (when the population is disproportionately young, there is more crime), fluctuations in the black market for drugs and other vices, environmental toxins (some criminologists have associated lead poisoning to impulsive and criminal behavior), and changes in the access to guns. Forman, supra note 7, at 50. data and common sense confirm that holding other factors steady, criminal behavior is sensitive to the probability of law enforcement detection. The relevant criminology studies consistently find evidence that detection reduces the incidence of future crime.97See, e.g., Aaron Chalfin & Justin McCrary, Criminal Deterrence: A Review of the Literature, 55 J. Econ. Lit. 5, 13–15, 23–29 (2017) (finding abundant evidence that crime is reduced when police manpower and redeployments increase, and much less consensus in the literature on severe punishment); Steven N. Durlauf & Daniel S. Nagin, Imprisonment and Crime: Can Both Be Reduced?, 10 Crim. & Pub. Pol’y 9, 17 (2011); Daniel S. Nagin, Deterrence in the Twenty-First Century, 42 Crime & Just. 199, 201 (2013); Daniel S. Nagin, Deterrence: A Review of the Evidence by a Criminologist for Economists, 5 Ann. Rev. Econ. 83, 88 (2013); Jeffrey Grogger, Certainty vs. Severity of Punishment, 29 Econ. Inquiry 297, 307–09 (1991); Kleiman, supra note 20, at 74–78; Jennifer L. Doleac, How Do State Crime Policies Affect Other States? The Externalities of State DNA Database Laws 1–3 (Dec. 2016) (unpublished manuscript), https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=2892046 [https://perma.cc/2KP5-7FHJ]. There is also some evidence that the swiftness of enforcement—the “celerity”—makes a difference.98Chalfin & McCrary, supra note 97, at 10.

Increased detection of crime not only reduces crime rates, but also improves other measures of social mobility and security as well. Greater crime detection increases the likelihood that offenders will seek and find employment, enroll in education, and live in a stable family environment, and it reduces school absenteeism in the community.99Anne Sofie Tegner Anker, Jennifer L. Doleac & Rasmus Landersø, The Effects of DNA Databases on the Deterrence and Detection of Offenders, 13 Am. Econ. J. Applied Econ. 194, 195 (2021). Indeed, given how dramatic the impact of detection is on increasing pro-social behavior, it is not at all clear that law enforcement should even be distinguished from the so-called “root causes” of crime. Fear that crime will not be well controlled is a root of many of the root causes of crime.100“Safe streets are a necessary platform for neighborhood growth and prosperity. . . . [T]he notion that poverty is the mother of crime has been turned on its head.” Philip J. Cook, Assessing Urban Crime and Its Control: An Overview 3 (Nat’l Bureau of Econ. Rsch., Working Paper No. 13781, 2008). To be clear, there are plenty of independent reasons to endorse or adopt the rehabilitative programs that criminologists and criminal justice scholars propose. See, e.g., Rachel Elise Barkow, Prisoners of Politics 76–77 (2019), for an example of an argument in favor of focusing on rehabilitative programs. But scholars like Barkow do not discuss the possibility that greater detection of crime can reduce crime rates and reduce net punishment.

So, an enduring and well-documented fact is that an increased likelihood of detection and enforcement drives crime rates down. This is much less true, and possibly not true at all, for the severity of punishment, where increasing the length of prison sentences is found to have no impact or even criminogenic effects.101Chalfin & McCrary, supra note 97, at 23–29. Thus, the state’s essential duty to protect its constituents from the violence and exploitation of others is well served by good detection. Unfortunately, crime rates are currently under the management of the American criminal justice system’s haphazard style of enforcement: occasional, error-prone, and harsh.102This critique, it should be noted, dates back to the eighteenth-century work of Jeremy Bentham and Cesare Beccaria. See generally Raymond Paternoster, How Much Do We Really Know About Criminal Deterrence?, 100 J. Crim. L. & Criminology 765 (2010).

D.  Decreased Discretion for Suspect Selection

Filtered dragnets are crime-driven rather than suspect-driven. In suspect-driven investigations, police have developed suspicion—or a hunch—around a particular individual and focus their observations in an attempt to develop a case.103Slobogin, supra note 19, at 322–23. Even Big Data–assisted suspect-driven investigations appear to perform poorly in identifying criminals who may have committed a crime. John S. Hollywood, Kenneth N. McKay, Dulani Woods & Denis Agniel, RAND Corp., Real-Time Crime Centers in Chicago: Evaluation of the Chicago Police Department’s Strategic Decision Support Centers 36 (2019). Suspect-driven investigations are propelled by the theories of police officers and proceed within their discretionary control. Police also have some control over filtered dragnet investigations (e.g., over where and when to deploy them), but once they are put into service, police lose control over the results. If facial recognition or reverse searches identify a wealthy or politically connected individual as the suspect of a crime, it will be much more difficult for police and prosecutors to avoid pursuing investigation and prosecution, as compared to cases where police use informants or witnesses as the main source of identification.

In later Parts, this Article describes the ways in which police can still exercise too much discretion by, for instance, using a filtered dragnet tool preferentially to solve some crimes and not using it on others that are substantially similar. But we should not lose sight of the ways filtered dragnets do constrain discretion. One of the greatest risks from mass surveillance (that is, dragnets) is its potential to create a resource for selecting the suspect first and then finding a crime, or for using legal but sensitive information to discredit political enemies and personal foes.104For example, the NSA’s strategy of revealing the pornography viewing habits of religious radical critics of the U.S. government. Conor Fridersdorf, The NSA’s Porn-Surveillance Program: Not Safe for Democracy, The Atlantic (Nov. 27, 2013), https://theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2013/11/the-nsas-porn-surveillance-program-not-safe-for-democracy/281914 [http://web.archive.org/web/20230323142324/https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2013/11/the-nsas-porn-surveillance-program-not-safe-for-democracy/281914]. Police cannot exert this type of control over filtered dragnets.105At least, they cannot exert control so easily. In Section IV.B, I will discuss how police units could still tamper with the process through the selection of crimes to solve or by avoiding or removing the analysis of a subset of constituents’ data.

The Supreme Court caselaw that has found fault with Big Data policing has involved digital searches in which the police first selected their target and then accessed long histories of their target’s whereabouts without a warrant.106Carpenter v. United States, 138 S. Ct. 2206, 2212 (2018) (accessing several days’ worth of geolocation data of a specific target); United States v. Jones, 565 U.S. 400, 403 (2012) (involving GPS tracking of a specific target). The Court is right to constrain investigations that permit police to access sensitive and detailed information without any justification or checking mechanism. Even when police have developed suspicion against a target, the low-tech factors that go into building up suspicion about a particular individual (e.g., testimony from an informant or presence in a “high crime neighborhood”) can impose an indirect racial tax on innocent minorities that could mostly be avoided with filtered surveillance programs that have very low error.107Kennedy, supra note 89, at 159; Ian Ayres & Jonathan Borowsky, ACLU of So. Cal., A Study of Racially Disparate Outcomes in the Los Angeles Police Department 27 (Oct. 2008), https://www.aclusocal.org/sites/default/files/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/11837125-LAPD-Racial-Profiling-Report-ACLU.pdf [https://perma.cc/U9GK-7BTU]; Floyd v. City of New York, 959 F. Supp. 2d 540, 556, 584 (S.D.N.Y. 2013). NYPD data showed that a substantial portion of the Terry stops (a.k.a. “stop-and-frisk”) had a predictably low chance of actually leading to the discovery of contraband based on the factors the police claimed were present. Sharad Goel, Maya Perelman, Ravi Shroff & David Alan Sklansky, Combatting Police Discrimination in the Age of Big Data, 20 New Crim. L. Rev. 181, 213 (2017).

Not all agree with this assessment. Kiel Brennan-Marquez has argued that “nothing about the logic or practice of data-driven law enforcement makes [] redistributive impulses necessary. On the contrary, they will be hard fought—and particularly in our current political climate, unlikely.”108Brennan-Marquez, supra note 2, at 490. I share a certain degree of Brennan-Marquez’s cynicism (I have wondered, for example, if law enforcement’s sloth-like speed in adopting crime-driven investigation practices rather than suspect-based practices are related to the loss of control over defining the pool of suspects),109Police use most of these tools as a last resort, perhaps because self-preservation of police discretionary power and popular (if ill-conceived) public resentment toward big data policing happen to push in the same direction. but he goes too far. There already is some evidence that data-driven policing has redistributed the costs of law enforcement and will continue to do so. DNA-based exonerations, for example, have proven the innocence of disproportionately more minority convicts than whites.110Edwin Grimsley, What Wrongful Convictions Teach Us About Racial Inequality, Innocence Project (Sept. 26, 2012), https://innocenceproject.org/what-wrongful-convictions-teach-us-about-racial-inequality [https://perma.cc/V3U6-R4FQ]. This suggests that, going forward, DNA-based investigations will shift police focus not only toward the guilty, but also away from wrongfully accused Black and minority suspects.

E.  Decreased Risk to Victims, Witnesses, and Suspects

Police investigations cause a range of problems that are not captured in the variables I have discussed so far—privacy intrusions, erroneous arrest, et cetera. When police have to rely on old school methods of case investigation, the system necessarily puts victims, witnesses, and suspects at risk of physical or economic harm.

Let us start with crime victims and witnesses. Cooperating with the government is a perilous activity for these individuals, as captured by the saying “snitches get stitches.”111Stuntz, supra note 15, at 4, 79–80. Drug and gun charges, by contrast, can be proven using physical evidence without any cooperating witnesses. On “snitches get stitches,” see Snitches Get Stitches—Meaning, Origin and Usage, English Grammar Lessons (Dec. 12, 2021), https://english-grammar-lessons.com/snitches-get-stitches-meaning [https://perma.cc/C242-MRDN]. By one theory, clearance rates for serious crimes are low in the U.S. because proving homicide or robbery cases requires victims and witnesses to testify and put themselves at risk.112In Washington, D.C., residents reported gunshots to 911 or police only 12% of the time as compared with the gunfire incidents detected by ShotSpotter technologies. The study found that crime is disproportionately underreported, and thus under-investigated, in minority and low-income neighborhoods. Jillian B. Carr & Jennifer L. Doleac, Brookings Inst., The Geography, Incidence, and Underreporting of Gun Violence: New Evidence Using ShotSpotter Data 2 (Apr. 2016), https://www.brookings.edu/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/Carr_Doleac_gunfire_underreporting.pdf [https://perma.cc/G7P6-3JBU]. Bill Stuntz hypothesized that police forces increased their focus on drug and gun possession charges because these crimes were “self-proving” once contraband was discovered, and therefore did not necessitate the cooperation of a victim or witness.113Stuntz, supra note 15, at 4. As a result, more serious crimes were harder to clear than low-level crimes. But, of course, those are the crimes that are more damaging to the community. If reverse searches, facial recognition, and other filtered dragnets could allow police to prove cases independently, without exposing victims and witnesses to the risk of social stigma and retaliation, they would contribute benefits to society that are not accounted for in the usual privacy-versus-security debates.

As for the suspects, the manner in which traditional policing builds up cases leave much to be desired. Police stops and searches are often vectors for bias and disrespect where swearing, insults, unwarranted accusations and suspicion, and unjustified physical contact lead to demoralization and distrust.114Capers, supra note 59, at 1243–44 (referring to “hard surveillance” and distinguishing it from soft forms); Forman, supra note 7, at 171. Traditional investigations are costly in terms of time, fear, property damage, and general unpleasantness. A person who is pulled over for a secondary inspection when a police dog alerts to her car may very well have no recourse when the police slash open the seats of her car to try to find drugs. Home searches and interrogations cause additional physical, emotional, and economic strain to suspects, irrespective of what sorts of private information is revealed. These costs will become more obvious and more salient when technology obviates the need for a government agent to tear open the upholstery of a suspect’s car, dishevel a dresser, and “grope[] and grab[] our children” at the airport.115As Senator Ron Paul colorfully puts it. Capers, supra note 59, at 1286.

***

In combination, these factors show that filtered dragnets should be part of any responsible law enforcement program. They extend the “pareto frontier” by allowing privacy and crime detection to increase at the same time.116As Part IV argues, the fact that filtered dragnets can rapidly increase crime detection is also the source of its risk. It would be counterproductive for law to prohibit their use based on a formalistic or expansive notion of Fourth Amendment protection. And yet, as the next Part shows, there is some risk that courts and lawmakers may do just that.

III.  FILTERED DRAGNETS AND PRIVACY

Most of the courts, scholars, and civil society organizations that have considered the societal impact of filtered dragnets such as geofencing and reverse keyword searches have concluded that they pose serious threats to privacy.117See, e.g., Guariglia, supra note 6. Putting aside for a moment whether filtered dragnets are consistent with the full set of Fourth Amendment principles, this Part argues that filtered dragnets pose almost no threat to Fourth Amendment privacy. What I mean is, among all of the meanings and purposes that the right to privacy is meant to capture, the only ones that are meaningfully violated by filtered dragnets are related to abuses of power. The privacy expectations of the non-offender, which are the ones that predominate Fourth Amendment analysis, suffer at most a technical violation. If we separate out the anti-authoritarian goals of privacy, nothing is left of the privacy critique of filtered dragnets.

This does not mean that filtered dragnets are harmless—to the contrary, as Part V will argue, they pose significant dangers to civil liberties. But by ruling out privacy as the vector of abuse, courts can harvest the benefits of analytical precision and adjust Fourth Amendment law to better match the problems. This Part describes how courts and scholars have responded to filtered dragnets so far and then explains why Fourth Amendment principles are so poorly suited to address the negative reactions.

A.  Judicial Reactions to Filtered Dragnets

Courts are not prepared for the challenges that filtered surveillance pose to Fourth Amendment jurisprudence. Indeed, they are struggling as it is to find principled limits in more common and straightforward digital dragnet cases.118For example, Carpenter v. United States, 138 S. Ct. 2206 (2018), wherein the Supreme Court considered the government’s access to seven days’ worth of cell site geolocation data and reached a holding without a rule. The access to records constituted a search requiring a warrant and probable cause, but the Court refused to say whether accessing data for a more limited amount of time would also be treated as a search. Id. at *11 n.3.

So far, lower court opinions are surprisingly unfriendly to technologies and practices that will be the predicates to filtered dragnets. For example, Baltimore tried to set up a program called Aerial Investigation Research (“AIR”) in which its police department collected and retained 45 days’ worth of aerial surveillance footage, but would not be allowed to access the footage unless a violent crime occurred and was likely to be caught on camera.119Slobogin, Suspectless Searches, supra note 29, at 962. Civil liberties organizations successfully challenged the program, arguing that the Fourth Amendment should constrain the government from amassing data that can be used for longitudinal location tracking no matter how constrained the Baltimore Police Department’s access and use of the data might be.120Leaders of a Beautiful Struggle v. City of Baltimore, 2 F.4th 330, 346 (4th Cir. 2021). The Fourth Circuit used the theoretical possibility of government access to information as a sufficient reason to find that a Fourth Amendment search on all Baltimore residents took place, regardless of the design, practice, and risk of abuse for the program.121Id. If this reasoning is adopted throughout the judiciary, law enforcement will not be able to collect their own information for filtered dragnets and will have to rely on data that is collected and held by private industry.

Many courts have expressed similar reservations when the government asks a private company like Google to trawl through its data to conduct reverse searches, too.122United States v. Chatrie, 590 F. Supp. 3d 901, 927 (E.D. Va. 2022). But these opinions suggest that a warrant process that is sufficiently narrow and “particularized” so as to avoid disclosing data of innocent bystanders to the police would satisfy Fourth Amendment requirements.123Id. at 927–32. This leaves an opening for filtered surveillance. It suggests that the automated scan that Google or another third party would perform of all its data in the process of identifying responsive records would not be a search in and of itself. In other words, the focus of the courts that have analyzed geofence warrants is not on the data that is scanned at all, but on the data that is ultimately revealed to police.

Courts might begin to clamp down on third-party scanning for law enforcement purposes following the logic of the Fourth Circuit’s decision in the Baltimore AIR case. Many scholars are advocating for this, as I describe next. But it is still not clear that filtered dragnets will be understood to be a search at all given that they are designed to alert only when probable cause of a crime has been established. Even if police use computing technologies to automatically scan through large amounts of personal data, the constitutionally relevant event is the revelation and use of information to the government agents who are making decisions.124It is tempting to think the aggregation and accumulation of data for potential eventual use is itself a form of risk or harm. This is the reasoning behind the “mosaic theory,” which captured the attention of some courts and scholars. United States v. Maynard, 615 F.3d 544, 562 (D.C. Cir. 2011); Priscilla J. Smith, Nabiha Syed, David Thaw & Albert Wong, When Machines Are Watching: How Warrantless Use of GPS Surveillance Technology Violates the Fourth Amendment Right Against Unreasonable Searches, 121 Yale L.J. Online 177, 201 (2011). Orin Kerr, who coined the term, is skeptical that courts can make it work. Orin Kerr, The Mosaic Theory of the Fourth Amendment, 111 Mich. L. Rev. 311, 346–47 (2012). It is worth noting that this theory does not comport with the attitudes of Americans. Matthew B. Kubler & Lior Jacob Strahilevitz, Actual Expectations of Privacy, Fourth Amendment Doctrine, and the Mosaic Theory, 6 Sup. Ct. Rev. 205, 248 (2016).

This is best captured by the binary search doctrine—the rule establishing that, for example, a drug dog’s alert is not a search under the Fourth Amendment because it reveals only the presence of contraband and criminal wrong-doing. There is little reason to believe the Supreme Court will backpedal. The Court has found that a universal fingerprinting database, possibly even one that requires involuntary contributions of fingerprints by individuals who are not yet in the database, could be justified, given that fingerprinting is an “inherently more reliable and effective crime-solving tool than eyewitness identification or confessions.”125Davis v. Mississippi, 394 U.S. 721, 727–28 (1969). More recently, in Maryland v. King, the Supreme Court found that police can forcibly swab an arrestee and cross-check his DNA against the database of DNA samples from unsolved crimes.126Maryland v. King, 569 U.S. 435, 465 (2012). The opinion focused almost entirely on the physical act of swabbing and took for granted that the cross-checking of a DNA sample to a crime database will not be a search because it reveals either nothing at all or reveals only a high-confidence match to a crime.127See id. at 445, 461–62.

That said, some of the Supreme Court decisions in the last ten years written by Justice Scalia incorporated a strong property-based formalism. In United States v. Jones, the use of a GPS device was a search not because of the sensitivity of the information gathered, but because of the touching of the suspect’s car.128United States v. Jones, 565 U.S. 400, 403 (2012). And in Florida v. Jardines, use of a drug-sniffing dog on a front porch was a violation of the Fourth Amendment because the practice involved a trespass with information gathering.129Florida v. Jardines, 569 U.S. 1, 5–6 (2013). The fact that the information gathering was in the form of a binary search did not alleviate the flaw, according to the majority.130Id. at 10–11. If Scalia’s formalism for real and tangible property is extended to personal data, filtered dragnets could be considered a search of all individuals whose data is mechanically scanned in the process, irrespective of how trivial the invasion to them may be.

Even if courts come to agree that mechanically processing data is a Fourth Amendment search, this would still not guarantee the death of the filtered dragnet. They might be reasonable searches under the special needs or checkpoints doctrines.131See Mich. Dep’t of State Police v. Sitz, 496 U.S. 444, 449–50 (1990); Illinois v. Lidster, 540 U.S. 419, 426–27 (2004). In the context of checkpoints, bulk searches, and other dragnets, the Supreme Court has articulated the factors that it would use to determine whether the searches are “reasonable” despite a lack of individualized suspicion. These factors include the intrusiveness of the search, the public and government interest that is served by the dragnet, and the degree of oversight or limitations on discretion that are involved.132See Christopher Slobogin, Government Dragnets, 73 Law & Contemp. Probs. 107, 107–08, 127 (2010). The Court focused on constraints over agents’ ad hoc discretion in United States v. Martinez-Fuerte, 428 U.S. 543, 559 (1976) (with respect to the location of a border and customs checkpoint). Justice Brennan, in dissent, pointed out that there remained a lot of agent discretion with respect to whom to focus on during the primary and secondary inspections, further emphasizing the importance of agent discretion. See id. at 576 (Brennan, J., dissenting).

Thus, judicial reasoning seems to be on a collision course between (a) cases that are eager to expand the recognition of privacy rights to cover all data subjects in large databases whose information is theoretically accessible to police and (b) cases that find highly probative “binary searches” are outside the ambit of Fourth Amendment prohibition.

B.  Scholarly Reactions to Filtered Dragnets

Lawrence Lessig saw this train wreck coming. In Code, he pointed out that the Internet and digital information technologies will allow police to identify a perpetrator with high confidence while remaining blind, by design, to the intimate details of the innocent. He explained that this will cause the privacy rationale for Fourth Amendment protection to lose relevance, at least when filtered dragnet investigations are possible. He expected these technologies would force a wedge between privacy and anti-authoritarian justifications for criminal procedure, when in the past, the two types of arguments traveled together.

Fourth Amendment scholars have doubled down on privacy.133See generally Sklansky, supra note 9; Ohm, supra note 9 (each arguing for strong and more capacious conceptions of privacy under Fourth Amendment law that will limit access to information no matter how or why it is sought). Even scholars like Andrew Ferguson and Neil Richards, who have focused on tyranny and power, have used those terms synonymously with surveillance capability. Ferguson, supra note 9, at 262–63, 266. They have lumped filtered dragnets together with all other digital surveillance in order to hinder police access. Dragnets of every sort, including the filtered sort, still suffer from analytical chaos because of value judgments and predictions that too often stay latent in the scholarship.134Christopher Slobogin took stock of the “analytical extremism” over a decade ago, and not much has changed. Slobogin, supra note 132, at 109. As a result, scholars are all over the map in terms of the proper treatment of digital dragnets, and none have focused on the right factors.

A few examples. Daphna Renan has argued that the collection, retention, and theoretical capability for law enforcement to access data is alone sufficient to constitute a privacy harm. Consent or a warrant should be required before the government collects any privately held data, and even before they access or request machine scanning of that data by third parties, irrespective of how limited and careful the readout is.135Daphna Renan, The Fourth Amendment as Administrative Governance, 68 Stan. L. Rev. 1039, 1042, 1054–55 (2016). Natalie Ram has approvingly held up Maryland’s law prohibiting law enforcement from using genomic databases to solve crimes unless they have received consent from all individuals whose data is in the genomic dataset.136Ram et al., supra note 70, at 1078–79. She has argued that Americans have a constitutional right, under the Carpenter decision, to the privacy of the genomic data held by a private third-party company and that unless consent to a law enforcement search is exhibited in some way, the police should not be able to ask or force the company to identify a match to a criminal sample. Natalie Ram, Genetic Privacy After Carpenter, 105 Va. L. Rev. 1357, 1366–67 (2019). More generally, this brand of scholars use access to data, rather than how it is used, as the sine qua non for Fourth Amendment analysis and ask why anybody should be under “lifetime surveillance.”137Lazer & Meyer, supra note 33, at 904 (summarizing what other scholars have asked with respect to including juveniles in DNA databases).

Scott Sundby and Nadine Strossen take the more moderate position that dragnets (of any sort) should be used only as a last resort,138Scott E. Sundby, A Return to Fourth Amendment Basics: Undoing the Mischief of Camara and Terry, 72 Minn. L. Rev. 383, 446 (1988); Nadine Strossen, The Fourth Amendment in the Balance: Accurately Setting the Scales Through the Least Intrusive Alternative Analysis, 63 N.Y.U. L. Rev. 1173, 1176, 1197 (1988) (suggesting a challenged investigation should be invalid if there is a less intrusive option, and finding mass searches are more intrusive than individualized ones). though it is not clear they would apply their conclusions to filtered dragnets in particular. Eldar Haber, in considering how the Internet of Things can become a rich source of police investigatory data for reverse searches, advocates for a warrant requirement that goes beyond the “super-warrant” requirements of the current Wiretap Act to create an “ultra-warrant” requirement.139Haber, supra note 50, at 785. Since the super warrant requires police to exhaust all other means of investigating before securing a wiretap warrant, the effect and objective of Haber’s recommendation is similar to Sundby’s and Strossen’s—to ensure that the criminal justice system strongly disfavors use of Internet of Things data in investigation.14018 U.S.C. § 2518. Haber’s reasoning is also consistent with Justice O’Connor’s reasoning in a dissenting opinion, in which she argued suspicionless inspections should only be permitted when law enforcement would not be effective using traditional police tactics that build up reasonable suspicion or probable cause before a search takes place. See Vernonia Sch. Dist. 47J v. Acton, 515 U.S. 646, 674 (1995) (O’Connor, J., dissenting).

Continuing down the spectrum, some scholars appreciate the potential benefits of filtered dragnets and have advocated for a style of restraint that differs from prohibition or PC-based warrant requirements. Stephen Henderson and Kiel Brennan-Marquez argue that police departments should have a budget for searches and seizures (including digital investigations that, at least right now, operate outside the formal definition of a Fourth Amendment search) so that they are incentivized to use the most efficacious practices rather than the most expedient ones.141Keil Brennan-Marquez & Stephen Henderson, Search and Seizure Budgets, 13 U.C. Irvine L. Rev. 389, 396–97 (2023). In my opinion, it would make more sense to limit government power by imposing a “prison budget” so that the state is forced to reserve incarceration resources for their most effective uses. See Kleiman, supra note 20, at 785. Christopher Slobogin has explicitly called for a more nuanced understanding of dragnets and suspicionless surveillance. He would allow dragnets that meet a standard of “generalized reasonable suspicion” where their efficacy outweigh the privacy intrusion enough to merit their use in criminal investigations.142Slobogin, supra note 132, at 139–40. Slobogin measures efficacy using the hit rate—the chance that an investigative technique will reveal relevant criminal evidence. Id. at 139. However, it is not entirely clear what he uses as the denominator in a hit rate. If courts are supposed to ask whether a person whose data is disclosed to police by a filtered dragnet is highly likely to be guilty of the investigated crime, filtered dragnets will always have high efficacy because they are defined to meet this standard. If the denominator is comprised of all individuals whose data is mechanically processed to find matches to the “fingerprint” of a crime, none of the filtered dragnets will meet the standard. Jeffrey Bellin recommends locating the Fourth Amendment interest in databases with the owner or holder of data, rather than the subject of the data searches, which would give a company the right to either consent to a search or to demand a warrant.143Jeffrey Bellin, Fourth Amendment Textualism, 118 Mich. L. Rev. 233, 270–72 (2019) (articulating an openness to considering some types of data and documents as personal to the consumer rather than owned and controlled by the third-party service provider, so context would play a role in edge cases under his proposal). Andrew Ferguson would allow the use of dragnets as long as the legislative branch explicitly authorizes their use.144Ferguson, supra note 9, at 272.

Reaching the other end of the spectrum, some scholars (myself included), see the use of filtered dragnets as a move toward justice rather than away from it.145See generally Bambauer, supra note 26. The prohibition of a highly reliable investigation tool is unethical when the prohibition would push police toward more invasive and less accurate investigation techniques and when serious crime would too often go undeterred. David Kaye and Michael Smith have made this argument with respect to DNA matching.146D.H. Kaye & Michael E. Smith, DNA Identification Databases: Legality, Legitimacy, and the Case for Population-Wide Coverage, 2003 Wis. L. Rev. 413 (2003).

Where does this leave us? Hopefully with an open mind and a hunger for reasoning from first principles.

C.  The Pointlessness of Fourth Amendment Privacy

Filtered dragnets will disrupt the equilibrium between the government, criminals, victims, and bystanders. That is obvious enough. Orin Kerr has made the descriptive and normative claim that courts intuitively adjust Fourth Amendment rules to strike a new balance between privacy and security whenever the government gains a significant new surveillance capability.147Orin S. Kerr, An Equilibrium-Adjustment Theory of the Fourth Amendment, 125 Harv. L. Rev. 476, 488–89 (2011). Filtered dragnets implicate only a few Fourth Amendment interests, and those few are not well served by the reasonable expectations of privacy test, by the warrant requirement, or even by intuitive adjustments. We are in new terrain in which a technology increases both privacy and crime control.

1.  Theoretical Dimensions of Fourth Amendment Privacy

Borrowing from a rich literature that catalogues and elucidates the concept of privacy,148Some attempts to organize the privacy discourse uses different stages of the information life cycle. See generally, e.g., Daniel J. Solove, A Taxonomy of Privacy, 154 U. Penn. L. Rev. 477 (2006); Jane Bambauer, The New Intrusion, 88 Notre Dame L. Rev. 205 (2012). For the purposes of this article, I have focused more heavily on articles that discuss the various types of risks and harms that occur when privacy is violated. the following arise most frequently in the context of government intrusions and surveillance:

i.  Freedom from Embarrassing Revelations, Social Dislocation, and Harassment

Perhaps the most common and robust form of privacy is the recognition that everybody has some legitimate, pro-social reason to want to keep licit details about their lives away from at least a subset of people.149Sklansky, supra note 9, at 1107–10 (using the concept of refuge). They want the freedom that comes from relative obscurity,150See generally Woodrow Hartzog & Evan Selinger, Surveillance as Loss of Obscurity, 72 Wash. & Lee L. Rev. 1343 (2015). where their decisions and behavior are not under the scrutiny and judgment of others.151Julie E. Cohen, Examined Lives: Informational Privacy and the Subject as Object, 52 Stan. L. Rev. 1373, 1377 (2000); Danielle Keats Citron & Daniel J. Solove, Privacy Harms, 102 B.U. L. Rev. 793, 854 (2022); see also Jane Bambauer & Tal Zarsky, The Algorithm Game, 94 Notre Dame L. Rev. 1, 23 (2018); Danielle Keats Citron, The Fight for Privacy: Protecting Dignity, Identity, and Love in the Digital Age 55–57 (2022) (describing how governments around the world have used details about licit-but-scandalous love affairs or other sexual secrets to suppress dissent). Everybody deserves to be shielded, at least to some degree, from embarrassment over the things they have said or done that did not cause any lasting harm to others and that can be misunderstood.152See Citron & Solove, supra note 151, at 837 (discussing reputational harms).

The scope of this interest ranges from trivial embarrassments (the regrettable hairstyle, the piece of toilet paper stuck to a shoe) to the truly life-changing (the ostracism of an HIV diagnosis, the physical attack carried out with the help of location information).153See Richards, supra note 65, at 146–51, 157–62. Much of the time, the sensitivity of a piece of information will depend greatly on context,154See generally Helen Nissenbaum, Privacy in Context (2010). but the point is that “everyone has facts about themselves that they don’t want shared, disclosed, or broadcast indiscriminately.”155Richards, supra note 65, at 73. When information is permitted to leap from one context to another and to be used in unexpected ways, it will cause harm.156See Solove, supra note 148, at 487–88; Cohen, supra note 151, at 1377; Richards, supra note 65, at 134, 142–45.

Filtered dragnets relieve, rather than exacerbate, these concerns. By shielding data from police (and everyone else) unless and until they match the fingerprint of a crime, filtered dragnets keep as much information private as practically possible.157Relatedly, filtered dragnets, when used as designed, will mitigate problems related to the dissolving boundaries between the state, private industry, and society by greatly limiting disclosure and use by law enforcement. For a description of dissolving boundaries, see Bernard E. Harcourt, Exposed 187–216 (2015). Indeed, if more police investigations were conducted through filtered dragnets, members of the community would be much more obscure and unknown vis-à-vis the state as compared with programs that involve heavy use of interviews, street patrols, traffic stops, and home searches.

ii.  Freedom from Manipulation

An actor can exploit access to another person’s data by discovering their vulnerabilities or gaps in rationality and then using those to persuade, cajole, or threaten the data subject into doing something.158See Richards, supra note 65, at 151; Citron & Solove, supra note 151, at 846. Again, as with freedom from embarrassment, filtered dragnets present a lower, rather than higher, risk of this sort because law enforcement and other government actors are blinded from nonrelevant information. The only use to which the dragnet data are put involves solving a crime.

iii.  Freedom from Indignity

The privacy literature prizes at least two forms of dignity that are not captured in other concepts on this list. First, privacy intrusions sometimes bring about an indignity from being singled out for suspicion.159One reason that courts have concluded that roadblock-style DUI checkpoints are reasonable under the Fourth Amendment is that all people are treated with equal indignity. This is borne out in public opinion surveys, where checkpoints and roadblocks are consistently rated as being a relatively low intrusion compared with other investigation techniques. See Christopher Slobogin & Joseph Schumacher, Reasonable Expectations of Privacy and Autonomy in Fourth Amendment Cases: An Empirical Look at ‘Understandings Recognized and Permitted by Society’, 42 Duke L.J. 727, 738 (1993). Dragnets, whatever their faults, do not have this intrusion. Nearly everybody suffers the same indignity when bulk data is scanned, just as they do at TSA checkpoints and DUI roadblocks.160This may explain why survey research finds that respondents generally do not find roadblocks intrusive; only 24% believed that they violate a reasonable expectation of privacy. James W. Hazel & Christopher Slobogin, ‘A World of Difference’? Law Enforcement, Genetic Data, and the Fourth Amendment, 70 Duke L.J. 705, 745 (2021). Another form of dignity concerns being treated as a human rather than being processed as a faceless line of data. This has some overlap with the concept of “individualized suspicion,” which I will discuss below, and which (in my opinion) filtered dragnets more than adequately should meet. Nonetheless, it is undeniable that filtered dragnets are entirely mechanical up until the point when a limited set of information is disclosed to police. Whether this should make a difference in the moral and legal status of filtered dragnets, though, is debatable.161See generally Frederick Schauer, Profiles, Probabilities, and Stereotypes (2006) (raising doubts about the differences between mechanical profiling and individualized consideration).

iv.  Freedom from Anxiety

A common theme throughout the discourse revolves around the idea of loss of control and the uncertainty and anxiety that arises from it.162See, e.g., Citron & Solove, supra note 151, at 841–42. When the government has personal information about a subject, the subject is uncertain how the information could be used and fears that it may be used against them. This fear is, in and of itself, a social cost. Kiel Brennan-Marquez has argued that new data-gathering technologies create, and to some extent have already created, an omnipresent low-level form of anxiety similar to the feeling one gets when seeing a patrol car in the rear-view mirror and “feeling your pulse quicken; awareness heightened and senses alert, as you try not to break any traffic rules.”163Brennan-Marquez, supra note 2, at 488.

A natural follow-up question is: What havoc can the government cause with data?164Although some would quibble, most privacy scholars at least implicitly recognize (and sometimes explicitly state) that privacy has primarily an instrumental value rather than an intrinsic one. See Richards, supra note 65, at 6. Richards later claims that “privacy is like other social goods, like public health or the environment,” id. at 97, but this seems incorrect to me. Personal and environmental health are both intrinsic goods—more of it is an end in itself, and there is no such thing as too much. The greatest risk posed by filtered dragnets is to offenders, and it is the risk that their offense (and nothing more) will be detected. Thus, for filtered dragnets, freedom from anxiety calls for a freedom from law enforcement itself. It vindicates the rights of the supposedly “guilty” rather than the innocent. Fourth Amendment privacy recognizes no such interest.

2.  Routine Compliance with Reasonable Expectations of Privacy

Data-driven policing has inspired a series of gloomy articles that predict the Fourth Amendment’s reasonable expectations of privacy test has become irrelevant.165See, e.g., Ohm, supra note 9, at 1320; Kimberly N. Brown, Outsourcing, Data Insourcing, and the Irrelevant Constitution, 49 Ga. L. Rev. 607, 659–63 (2015). As long as the third-party doctrine stands, permitting police to access data held by third-party companies without justification or oversight, privacy will be insufficiently protected. I agree with these scholars.166Bambauer, supra note 26, at 209. But courts are already addressing this problem. Cases like Carpenter v. United States—in which the Supreme Court found that police access to several days’ worth of geolocation data constitutes a search that would require a warrant or appropriate warrant exception—have proven that for suspect-driven searches, Fourth Amendment privacy is not yet irrelevant and is becoming more powerful by the day.167Carpenter v. United States, 138 S. Ct. 2206, 2209 (2018).

Nevertheless, the reasonable expectations of privacy test is very unlikely to impede the adoption of filtered dragnets. That test has repeatedly been interpreted to deny privacy interests of the guilty. “[A]ny interest in possessing contraband cannot be deemed ‘legitimate,’ and thus government conduct that only reveals the possession of contraband ‘compromises no legitimate privacy interest.’ ”168Illinois v. Caballes, 543 U.S. 405, 408 (2005). Jed Rubenfeld’s synthesis of Fourth Amendment caselaw seems to get it right: the Fourth Amendment aspires to support “a justified belief that if we do not break the law, our personal lives will remain our own.”169Jed Rubenfeld, The End of Privacy, 61 Stan. L. Rev. 101, 129 (2008) (differentiating the Fourth Amendment’s guarantee to security from a right to privacy). Filtered dragnets pass this test.170For binary searches, the reasonable expectations of privacy test adopts the “nothing to hide” attitude that privacy scholars very often condemn. See Richards, supra note 65, at 134. See generally Daniel J. Solove, Nothing to Hide: The False Trade-Off Between Privacy and Security (2011). Despite the scholarly criticism, it is an attitude that the general public shares with the Court. Public opinion surveys demonstrate that Americans’ taste for privacy is strongly influenced by whether they believe the person being searched has committed a crime or not. See Slobogin & Schumacher, supra note 159, at 759.

To be clear, there are reasons, independent of privacy, to protect law-violators-as-violators. These arguments, which I describe in depth in the next Part, are critical for understanding the threat from filtered dragnets. But they are only loosely related to “privacy” as the term is typically used, and they will not be incorporated into the reasonable expectations of privacy unless that test is changed beyond all recognition.

3.  The Irrelevance of the Warrant Requirement

In U.S. v. Chatrie, the geofence case described earlier, the court suggested it would approve a geofence warrant process if a magistrate or court got to make a probable cause determination before the geolocation data of a target were de-anonymized.171United States v. Chatrie, 590 F. Supp. 3d 901, 927 (E.D. Va. 2022). Generalizing to other filtered dragnets, law enforcement would seek a warrant after the filtered dragnet system alerts, but before any identifying data is revealed.

This process might be a good component for accountability and oversight, and to ensure that filtered dragnets are performing at or above the expected “hit rate,” but it is hard to imagine why a warrant could ever be denied. A warrant is valid as long as it is issued by a neutral judge or magistrate, is based on probable cause, and states with sufficient particularity what is to be searched or seized.172California v. Acevedo, 500 U.S. 565, 569–72 (1991); Illinois v. Gates, 462 U.S. 213, 230 (1983). The standards for both probable cause and particularization will be met—more than met—given that the definition of filtered dragnets I am using requires them to withhold information until the probability that the target has engaged in the investigated crime meets a high standard. As for particularization, because the filtered dragnet procedure begins with the signatures of a crime and works backwards to find the perpetrator, the profile for matching (what I have been calling the “fingerprint” of the crime) is as particularized to a crime as it can be.173Emily Berman argues that one of the purposes of the individualization requirement of the Fourth Amendment is to provide an opportunity for a suspect to challenge the evidence and beliefs of a police officer who thought they had probable cause to make the stop or search. Emily Berman, Individualized Suspicion in the Age of Big Data, 105 Iowa L. Rev. 463, 467 (2020). In this example, the non-privacy goal can be reconciled and adapted to filtered dragnets by requiring law enforcement to review and understand the data that connect the suspect to a crime.

Privacy advocacy groups have argued that warrants issued for reverse searches are tantamount to general warrants because they do not identify (or even anticipate) a particular suspect before they are issued.174Guariglia, supra note 6. But the only similarity that geofence warrants have to general warrants from the Colonial Era is the lack of a named suspect. In every other way, geofence warrants restrict the information that is revealed to that which is closely linked to a particular crime. By comparison, general warrants authorized agents of the colonial government to look for stolen or untaxed goods anywhere the agent “[should] think convenient to search.”175Brennan-Marquez & Henderson, supra note 141, at 402 (citing William J. Cuddihy, The Fourth Amendment: Origins and Original Meaning 233 (2009)). The only manner in which the geofence warrant is unconstrained—by allowing police to discover who the suspect is rather than requiring police to come with a suspect in mind—is a feature of geofence warrants that should be praised, as it limits the discretion of the police to select their targets in advance. This is the critical distinction between filtered dragnets like geofence warrants or DNA searches and suspect-driven searches—one that scholars and commentators too frequently gloss over.176See generally, e.g., Ram, supra note 136 (comparing the suspect-driven search in Carpenter to the crime-driven searches in the DNA forensic setting without recognizing the categorical differences between the two).

Thus, a warrant requirement is irrelevant to the adoption of filtered dragnets, apart from the time, resources, and general system friction involved, because they should routinely be granted.

***

Privacy scholars are courting disaster by lumping filtered dragnet techniques in with other types of dragnets and digital searches. Even if there are court victories in the short term, they will be pyrrhic. The very concept of “privacy” will become increasingly vulnerable to the “I have nothing to hide” argument that is loathed by the field (and rightly so).177See generally Solove, supra note 170. Courts might fail to sufficiently constrain unfiltered dragnets and suspect-driven investigations because of the utility and low harm of filtered dragnet techniques that happen to share the same Fourth Amendment bucket.

Arguments against mass surveillance often start with the observation that surveillance fundamentally shifts power from the surveilled to the surveillor.178“Privacy is about more than just keeping human information unknown or unknowable. . . . Put simply, privacy is about power.” Richards, supra note 65, at 3. Richards goes on to say, “we need to craft reasonable rules and protections so that we can maximize the good things about these technologies and minimize the bad things.” Id. at 5. This is true as far as it goes, but if the surveillor is constrained and can only see evidence of a crime, that power shift will often be a desirable one. In fact, assuming that the law is legitimate, the enforcement of a law is one of the most legitimate acts the government can do. The burden is therefore on surveillance scholars to explain why those who have violated the law may have justified interests in being protected from state detention and prosecution, even when their law-abiding conduct remains private. There are answers to this challenge, but they sound in tyranny rather than invasions of privacy. There is a virtue to being precise about the problems of filtered dragnets without reliance on capacious notions of privacy that would implicate nearly every law enforcement function.

IV.  FILTERED DRAGNETS AND TYRANNY

Filtered dragnets will provide a highly concentrated dose of criminal detection. Even though, in theory, the whole point of having law enforcement departments is to detect and prosecute crime, a drastic increase in criminal detection can have toxic effects on society. The dynamics and interaction of other criminal justice factors have come of age in a time of low detection and only make sense if detection continues to be difficult.

This Part begins by revisiting the interests that privacy scholars have identified that would be affected by filtered dragnets. Each of them is really an anti-tyranny concern garbed in the language of privacy. If we are more explicit about the goals and analyze the risks of authoritarianism that filtered dragnets may drag along with them, the problems (and, therefore, the remedies) become much more obvious.

The true threats from filtered dragnets are that: (1) many Americans will confront a real risk of criminal liability based on our overbroad criminal codes; (2) prosecutions of those crimes could lead to life-altering detentions in our inhumane prison systems; and (3) without the shield of abysmally low detection rates, the only protection is lenity, which is no protection at all from a government that attempts to exert authoritarian power.

A.  Privacy as a Stalking Horse for Anti-Authoritarianism

Neil Richards claims that privacy is a necessary bulwark “if we want political freedom against the power of the state.”179Richards, supra note 65, at 7. But privacy is inadequate on its own to protect the broad range of liberty and equality interests that arise with abuse of power. Filtered dragnets prove it. They can be used to trample liberties and to serve the public unequally even though the government will not know any irrelevant details about licit activities.

Instead of trying to expand the meaning of “privacy” to tackle every possible state abuse, courts and criminal justice scholars alike should seize the moment and force constitutional theory to shift its focus from privacy to anti-authoritarian constraint. To be sure, courts should continue to refine the conception of Fourth Amendment privacy interests to address unfiltered digital dragnets. But if we have any hope of harnessing the great potential of filtered dragnets without creating a despot’s playground, the Supreme Court will need to simultaneously cultivate an anti-authoritarian strand of Fourth Amendment rules.

When surveillance scholars use the concept of privacy to curb abuses of power, they are concerned about unnecessary social control and abuses of discretion.180They are also concerned about illegal use of a tool by rogue agents. See, e.g., Lazer & Meyer, supra note 33, at 906 (misusing DNA databases to extract phenotypes). There is always a risk that the government will use surveillance tools in violation of constitutional rules, statutory restrictions, or their own internal policies, but compared to opportunities of individual officers to abuse warrant or investigation practices in real space, filtered dragnets are more likely to be auditable.

1.  Unnecessary Social Control

Law enforcement serves the obvious and highly valued function of social control. As Kiel Brennan-Marquez explains, “we want people to worry about breaking the rules”181Brennan-Marquez, supra note 2, at 489.—at least, when the rules are good rules, and when the consequences for breaking rules are proportional and fair. However, Brennan-Marquez is concerned that data-driven policing tools will leave the police “awash in probable cause,” allowing them to stop, search, or arrest nearly anybody.182Id. at 491. This concern gets to the heart of the matter. But it is ultimately a critique of the substance of criminal law and the discretion of criminal justice decisionmakers. These are the same themes that Bill Stuntz repeatedly raised when he critiqued Fourth Amendment cases and scholars for allowing privacy to be a distraction from more pressing threats.183See generally Stuntz, supra note 15.

Let us return for a minute to Brennan-Marquez’s metaphorical driver who has just discovered a patrol car in the rearview mirror. If the government had done a massive purge of its penal codes and the only crimes left on the books were murder, rape, arson, armed robbery, and aggravated assault, and if false positive police error was vanishingly small, would the driver feel anxiety? For a time after the change, yes of course. There will be a short-term period of distrust and adjustment when technologies or rules change suddenly and dramatically.184People used to feel nervous about Caller ID, and at the advent of electricity, wealthy homeowners used to hire servants to turn on lights. Adam Thierer, Permissionless Innovation 70 (2016). But in the long run, anxiety will ebb under the pressure of persistent feedback of non-events and the absence of harm.

Public opinion surveys find that attitudes about privacy are mediated through attitudes about the substantive criminal law that is being enforced: a dog that is sniffing for bombs is perceived as less privacy-invasive than a dog that sniffs for drugs even though the experience is identical for the investigation target (at least, up until the moment that the dog alerts, that is).185Bambauer, supra note 25, at 1205. See also Slobogin & Schumacher, supra note 159, at 767 (speculating that the dangerousness of the investigated crime could explain some of their survey results). If assessments of privacy change not because of the revelations or techniques that are used but because of the crimes that are prosecuted, the concept of privacy is standing in for objections to the substance of the law.

The concern about unnecessary social control is better addressed by defining, as best we can, which types of antisocial conduct rise to the level of being worthy of criminal punishment and which do not. And the concern raises important questions about whether criminal violators are treated too harshly. Privacy is a blunt instrument for these purposes. It draws lines that have only a vague relationship to the distinctions we mean to draw.

2.  Selective Attention

Another serious concern is that police might make use of a system of surveillance to rifle around for something to use against a specific person or group.186Dan Markel, Against Mercy, 88 Minn. L. Rev. 1421, 1476–77 (2003); Joh, supra note 17, at 200; Brennan-Marquez, supra note 2, at 490–92. Motivations could range from political persecution to racism to personal vengeance to simply wanting to make a quota or appear well in performance metrics within a bureaucratized police department.

As with unjustified social control, the problem of discretion and selective attention is only indirectly related to privacy. Indeed, it is not even clear that privacy has any positive influence on police discretion. Privacy steers police toward information sources that disproportionately expose low-income and minority groups: if police cannot bring a drug-sniffing dog to a house, they will bring it to apartments and cars.187Bambauer, supra note 26, at 246. If police cannot search the full set of government and commercial DNA databases for a match to a crime scene sample, they will just use the government’s database of arrestee DNA data.188Ram et al., supra note 70, at 1078. At the same time, police can also engage in selective inattention by avoiding leads that could cause problems for friends or powerful people and by failing to give crimes perpetrated against low-status victims the same attention as the ones inflicted on high-status victims. When communities are under-protected, it is a form of too much privacy vis-à-vis the government.

The policy antidote to government discretion and bias is to directly limit discretion and bias. Filtered dragnets already do this, to some extent, because once they are employed, police lose control over who will ultimately be identified as a suspect. But law enforcement can still deploy filtered dragnets unfairly when selecting the neighborhoods or cases in which filtered dragnets will be deployed.189This is why Henderson’s and Brennan-Marquez’s proposal of search and seizure budgets seem inadequate to me: the concept of a budget does not guarantee that the budget will be spent wisely. See generally Brennan-Marquez & Henderson, supra note 141.

Thus, in the context of filtered dragnets, “privacy” concerns are attempting to capture and curb something bigger: too much social control at the discretion of the government.

B.  Filtered Dragnets and the Risks of Tyranny

An authoritarian regime thrives when it has unlimited discretion to issue stiff punishment based on criminal behavior that has negligible negative consequences (and possibly even positive consequences) to society. This threat is blunted if the state lacks the means to acquire evidence of criminal behavior, but with reliable surveillance mechanisms, law enforcement officials will be able to exert as much social control as they please, because nearly every person can be charged with a crime.190Kleiman, supra note 20, at 172–73.

Thus, filtered dragnets present risks that run along three vectors: (1) overbreadth of criminal law; (2) overly harsh punishment of criminals; and (3) overly discretionary investigations and enforcement. If these three forces remain unchecked, filtered dragnets could cause more harm than good. In the wrong hands, filtered dragnets could cause catastrophic risks of the sort that the Constitution is meant to prevent.

1.  Overbreadth of Criminal Law

A government that has the capacity to detect criminal behavior at very high rates must come under heightened standards of care when it promulgates or maintains its criminal laws. If we wince at the thought that everybody who commits a minor offense will get caught and will be prosecuted if they do not seem to qualify for a privilege or defense, this is a sign that the conduct is a poor fit for criminal law, and legislators must consider alternatives (e.g., warnings, civil fines, or positive incentives for pro-social conduct) instead.191Social stigma also provides a significant source of deterrence and self-control, often better than fear of punishment. Stuntz, supra note 15, at 52–53 (citing Daniel S. Nagin, Criminal Deterrence at the Outset of the Twenty-First Century, 23 Crime & Just. 1, 4–5 (1998)).

Right now, constitutional case law does very little to constrain the creation of criminal laws. Outside criminal statutes that would intrude upon specific individual liberties recognized in the Bill of Rights, the courts hold legislatures to very low standards of care (the rational basis test).192See generally Jeffrey D. Jackson, Classical Rational Basis and the Right to Be Free of Arbitrary Legislation, 14 Geo. J.L. & Pub. Pol’y 493 (2016). This latitude on substance has a curious relationship with the procedural restrictions imposed by the Fourth Amendment: as long as police have probable cause to believe that a person is violating or has violated a criminal law, police can make an arrest or initiate a search, no matter how trivial the offense. Thus, in Atwater v. Largo Vista, the Supreme Court found that the government acted within the bounds of the constitution when a police officer arrested a woman who was driving with two small children for the violation of a seatbelt law.193Atwater v. Largo Vista, 532 U.S. 318, 323–24 (2001).

Even if the Court is reluctant to interfere with legislators’ management of criminal codes, common sense dictates that some crimes are much worse than others. The state’s attention should focus on conduct that causes serious harm to others. There is a reason, for example, that the states that have regulated familial DNA-matching programs have allowed their use only for serious offenses like murder and rape,194Ram, supra note 34, at 781. and Baltimore’s Aerial Investigation Research (“AIR”) system, before it was dismantled, was restricted to use in investigating a limited set of very serious crimes.195Slobogin, Suspectless Searches, supra note 29, at 962. It is the same reason that the federal Wiretap Act permits courts to issue wiretap orders only when there is probable cause to investigate one of the explicitly listed serious criminal offenses.19618 U.S.C. § 2516. The same impulse explains why there is scholarly criticism and public outrage when a surveillance system adopted for the purpose of detecting one set of serious criminal violations (like smuggling or terrorism) is simultaneously used to detect violations of drug laws.197Renan, supra note 135, at 1060–63 (describing slippage between “silos” of law enforcement). The unstated assumption is that some crimes should be detected as well as possible (terrorism, for instance) and some should not.198Craig Lerner, The Reasonableness of Probable Cause, 81 Tex. L. Rev. 951, 1019–22 (2003).

The fact that state and federal criminal law has dramatically expanded in quantity and complexity is not in dispute.199Silvergate, supra note 10, at 268. “All of this is to say, of course, that many of those prosecuted are not real criminals who engaged in real crimes defined by clear and reasonable laws.” Id. And yet, curiously, responses to the problem tend to focus on procedural rather than substantive limits.200See, e.g., Reynolds, supra note 10 (advocating for due process constraints on charging decisions). The unchecked growth of substantive criminal law ironically creates a problem for public safety because the fear of prosecution prompts a demand for privacy and law enforcement obstruction.201This is, in a nutshell, the reason that Paul Ohm and other privacy scholars use law enforcement efficiency as a measure of Fourth Amendment violations. Ohm, supra note 9, at 1346. As Mark Kleiman put it, “improved enforcement of a law that should not have been passed in the first place can be a loss rather than a gain.” Kleiman, supra note 20, at 172.

The first and most obvious reason to place limits on criminal liability is to reduce the opportunity for unnecessary social control. The relationship between the government and the governed changes profoundly when a crime has been committed. The defendant in Atwater should have put a seatbelt on her children, and the government has an interest in encouraging, even requiring, that behavior. But not through criminal law.202Josh Bowers has criticized the Atwater decision, arguing that the reasonableness requirement of a Fourth Amendment seizure should protect individuals from “pointless indignities.” Josh Bowers, Probable Cause, Constitutional Reasonableness, and the Unrecognized Point of a ‘Pointless Dignity’, 66 Stan. L. Rev. 987, 1010 (2014). Every arrest is an indignity, of course, so the power of Bowers’ observation is the pointlessness of Atwater’s arrest. A second reason to constrain the substance of criminal law is to increase compliance with the rules we care about most.203Bloated criminal codes reduce law-abiding conduct because they cause what Murat Mungan calls “stigma dilution.” Murat Mungan, Stigma Dillution and Over-Criminalization, 18 Am. L. & Econ Rev. 88, 88 (2016). If functional and productive members of society are regularly engaged in violations of the criminal laws, the fact that a person has committed a crime (or has been convicted of it) loses its negative status signal. Overstuffed criminal codes also bleed into the problems of law enforcement discretion (discussed at greater length below) because the government has too much power to decide which members in the nation of criminals to send to prison.

Consider two examples that illuminate the problem through opposite ideological lenses. First, abortion will be criminalized in many states in light of Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization.204Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Org., 597 U.S. 215 (2022). Some states are considering criminal liability for women who seek out an abortion.205Andy Rose, Alabama Attorney General Says He Has Right to Prosecute People Who Facilitate Travel for Out-of-State Abortions, CNN (Aug. 31, 2023, 7:39 AM), https://www.cnn.com/2023/08/31/politics/alabama-attorney-general-abortion-prosecute [https://perma.cc/B7RP-ANNL]. For liberals and progressives, criminal liability for abortion-seekers represents an intolerable overreach of the state. To combat the substance of these laws, organizations such as the ACLU have already issued warnings about the risk that geofence searches could facilitate arrests and prosecutions of a law that a sizable portion of the state’s constituents believe is unjust.206Chad Marlow & Jennifer Stisa Granick, Celebrating an Important Victory in the Ongoing Fight Against Reverse Warrants, ACLU (Jan. 29, 2024), https://www.aclu.org/news/privacy-technology/fight-against-reverse-warrants-victory [https://perma.cc/C2PB-NGKH].

By contrast, conservatives might be concerned about overzealous enforcement of gun restrictions.207Several credit card networks now flag gun transactions automatically. Landon Mion, Visa Joins Mastercard, AmEx in Specifically Labeling Gun Store Sales, N.Y. Post (Sept. 11, 2022), https://nypost.com/2022/09/11/visa-joins-mastercard-amex-in-specifically-labeling-gun-store-sales [https://perma.cc/M554-C4L9]. Geolocation and credit card transaction data could be used to create a filtered dragnet that finds individuals without a gun license who cross state lines, attend a gun show, make a sizable purchase, and immediately return to their state.

In both cases, perceived flaws in the substance of the law would not be so troubling if the laws carried only modest punishments—warnings or fines, for example, rather than the incarceration and downstream labor and housing problems that inevitably follow conviction.208See generally James B. Jacobs, The Eternal Criminal Record (2015). But given the breadth and severity of criminal law, plus the mostly unchecked discretion that police departments have when deciding which among an ocean of technical criminal violations to investigate, the prospect of near-perfect detection takes on a more sinister character. Thus, when people have reservations about, for example, Alexa devices being used to detect the sounds of domestic violence, the reservations stem not from the specific use case but the general capabilities. They wonder, for good reason, what mischief can be made from such a technology when the set of conduct that is forbidden and harshly punished is sprawling and unevenly enforced.209Jessica Bulman-Pozen & David E. Pozen, Uncivil Obedience, 115 Colum. L. Rev. 809 (2015) (illustrating that the set of legal rules operating on U.S. residents is often so unrealistic that fastidious obedience to them can annoy and frustrate law enforcement agents).

Criminal codes are often expanded when the state has not gotten a handle on crimes of violence and property theft. The criminalization of vice (alcohol and drugs) was supported by the community not necessarily out of concerns that the drugs themselves cause to users but because of the “unconscionable violence” that came along with trafficking and addiction.210Forman, supra note 7, at 129 (quoting Carl T. Rowan, Locking Up Thugs Is Not Vindictive, Washington Star (Apr. 23, 1976)). In other words, substantive criminal law is expanded to compensate for deficiencies in the detection and prosecution of crimes that were already on the books so that police could arrest for lower level crimes and (stochastically) reduce the incidence of more serious crimes.211K. Jack Riley, Nancy Rodriguez, Greg Ridgeway, Dionne Barnes-Proby, Terry Fain, Nell Griffith Forge, Vincent Webb & Linda J. Demaine, Just Cause or Just Because?: Prosecution and Plea-Bargaining Resulting in Prison Sentences on Low-Level Drug Charges in California and Arizona 76 (2005). If detection of the serious crimes were more functional, this should relieve the need for sprawling criminal codes.

Hence the dilemma: better crime detection could help stop the pattern of an upward ratchet, but as long as the criminal codes are already sprawling, there will be resistance to increasing detection.

2.  Overly Harsh Punishment

On severity of punishment, the United States stands out among developed nations. We use incarceration intensively. In France and the U.K., a criminal who punches a person in the nose would be sentenced to less than six months in jail.212U.K. Parliament, Comparative Prison Sentences in the EU, House of Commons Library (2015), https://commonslibrary.parliament.uk/research-briefings/cbp-7218 [https://web.archive.org/web/20240510064827/https://commonslibrary.parliament.uk/research-briefings/cbp-7218/. The same conduct in the U.S. would result in a sentence of about three years.213U.S. Sentencing Commission, Sourcebook of Federal Sentencing Statistics Table 15 (2020), https://www.ussc.gov/sites/default/files/pdf/research-and-publications/annual-reports-and-sourcebooks/2020/Table15.pdf [https://perma.cc/33WN-APC8]. Note, though, that the differences for non-violent offenses like theft appear to be smaller (fewer than 6 months in U.K. compared to a median of 8 months in the U.S.). Id. Moreover, no outsider would mistake our prisons for institutions of rehabilitation: the entire sentence is usually carried out in a facility that is punishing, with drab quarters, humiliating toilet and bathroom facilities, and rancid food.214Craig Haney, Criminality in Context 335–44 (2020). Once released, the negative consequences continue as the housing and labor markets penalize criminal convicts.215Forman, supra note 7, at 219. See generally Michelle Alexander, The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness (2012). Long sentences also create risks of abuse by giving police officers and other state agents leverage to extract bribes, pleas, and false confessions.216Dharmapala et al., supra note 67, at 111 (citing David Friedman, Why Not Hang Them All?: The Virtues of Inefficient Punishment, 107 J. Pol. Econ. S259 (1999)).

The harshness of our sentences is the byproduct of a low detection rate. Communities that at various times have been disfigured from crime waves tend to demand more and harsher criminal penalties.217James Forman Jr.’s book Locking Up Our Own documents the set of factors and conditions that led communities of color to make entirely understandable demands for greater punishment, even though the result of those efforts have not had their intended effects. Forman, supra note 7, at 124. The intuitive appeal of using long prison sentences to make up for low detection rates became the explicit policy of federal and local governments following the landmark work of Gary Becker. Becker modeled crime with a simple formula determined by the probability of conviction and the severity of punishment.218Gary S. Becker, Crime and Punishment: An Economic Approach, 76 J. Polit. Econ. 169, 170 (1968). See also A. Mitchell Polinsky & Steven Shavell, The Theory of Public Enforcement of Law, in Handbook of Law and Economics 421 (2007). Because it is much easier and cheaper for the state to ratchet up punishment than to catch more perpetrators, his work persuaded many politicians to manage crime through tough sentencing.219Cass R. Sunstein, David Schkade & Daniel Kahneman, Do People Want Optimal Deterrence?, 29 J. Legal Studs. 237 (2000).

The sparseness of Becker’s model for crime rates leaves much to be desired for anybody looking for a comprehensive explanation for crime—crime, of course, has a range of social and economic causes220These are the levers most directly under the control of a politically accountable legislators, mayors, police departments, and prosecutors, but there are of course other factors. See generally Stephen J. Schoenthaler & Ian D. Bier, The Effect of Vitamin-Mineral Supplementation on Juvenile Delinquency Among American Schoolchildren: A Randomized, Double-Blind Placebo-Controlled Trial, 6 J. Alt. & Complementary Med. 7 (2000) (discussing malnutrition as a factor in crime); Civic Research Institute, The Science, Treatment, and Prevention of Antisocial Behaviors (Diana H. Fishbein ed., 1999) (reviewing evidence of the impact of alcoholism, drug use, sexual abuse, cognitive and genetic factors, and family/gender role factors); Clifford R. Shaw & Henry D. McKay, Juvenile Delinquency and Urban Areas (1942) (discussing the effect of weakened or disorganized social institutions on crime; this work planted the roots of what would become the “broken windows” theory).—but as Part II explained, there is little doubt that detection has a significant influence over the amount of crime in a given community.221Executive Office of the President, Economic Perspectives on Incarceration and the Criminal Justice System 36–40 (2016) (citing to the empirical literature finding that increased incarceration reduces crime, but less effectively than equivalent increased spending on police); Andrew von Hirsch, Doing Justice: The Choice of Punishments 62–65 (1976). See generally Raymond Paternoster, The Deterrent Effect of the Perceived Certainty and Severity of Punishment: A Review of the Evidence and Issues, 42 Just. Q. 173 (1987); Beau Kilmer, Nancy Nicosia, Paul Heaton & Greg Midgette, Efficacy of Frequent Monitoring with Swift, Certain, and Modest Sanctions for Violations: Insights from South Dakota’s 24/7 Sobriety Project, 103 Am. J. Pub. Health e37 (2013); Lawrence W. Sherman, Police Crackdowns: Initial and Residual Deterrence, 12 Crime & Just. 1 (1990). Punishment, by contrast, seems to have a U-shaped relationship to recidivism, where no punishment and long, harsh punishment both tend to increase the odds that a perpetrator will recidivate.222Amanda Y. Agan, Jennifer L. Doleac & Anna Harvey, Misdemeanor Prosecution (Nat’l Bureau Econ. Rsch., Working Paper No. 28600, 2021).

I do not want to overstate the case for reducing prison time. Roughly half of the inmates in prison are individuals with such consistent sociopathic and antisocial behaviors that for those inmates, long-term incapacitation has positive externalities. Not only does incapacitation prevent these particular individuals from committing additional crimes (specific deterrence), but their families and particularly children may benefit from having less, rather than more, exposure to them.223See generally Samuel Norris, Matthew Pecenco & Jeffrey Weaver, The Effects of Parental and Sibling Incarceration: Evidence from Ohio, 111 Am. Econ. Rev. 2926 (2021); Sara R. Jaffee, Terrie E. Moffitt, Avshalom Caspi & Alan Taylor, Life with (or Without) Father: The Benefits of Living with Two Biological Parents Depends on the Father’s Antisocial Behavior, 74 Child Dev. 109 (2003). Nevertheless, the social costs of harsh punishment do not seem to serve deterrence or otherwise be justified outside the context of heinous or repeated criminal activity.

Over-punishment and criminal detection are inextricably connected. We cannot expect to find a political will to reduce punishment unless the police have—and use—new means to detect and root out crime. Filtered dragnets can jolt and resettle the criminal justice system in a new equilibrium where detection, rather than harsh punishment, is the key mechanism for crime control.

3.  Discretionary Application

Once the police have committed to investigating a particular crime, filtered dragnets take discretion away from the police to drive the investigation. But there are other points in time before and after a filtered dragnet may be used when government agents can exert control over the process:

i.  Selective Protection

When it comes to serious crimes of violence and theft, American police forces have a troubling history of systematically ignoring the suffering of minority communities. Police once actively conspired to deprive former slaves of their right to protection by joining the murderous mobs.224Stuntz, supra note 15, at 104–05. Over the subsequent century, police started to exhibit a more passive form of selection by simply not investigating and pursuing crimes committed against African-Americans as zealously as crimes committed against whites.225This trend can be seen in studies finding that models predicting enforcement and sentencing often include a large and statistically significant effect for the race of the victim (with white victims receiving better protection). John J. Donohue III, An Empirical Evaluation of the Connecticut Death Penalty System Since 1973: Are There Unlawful Racial, Gender, and Geographic Disparities?, 11 J. Empirical Legal Studs. 637, 640 (2014). This is a form of inequality that is not adequately addressed in constitutional caselaw.226In fact, in the context of capital sentencing, the Supreme Court has explicitly said that there is not a constitutional guarantee that would prevent discretionary leniency to be executed arbitrarily. McCleskey v. Kemp, 481 U.S. 279, 292 (1987). Thus, courts must prevent police from using filtered dragnets to solve crimes committed against one set of privileged crime victims while failing to use the same tools to solve comparable (and comparably detectable) crimes committed against others.

ii.  Selective Crackdowns

Police also decide which crimes to target,227Mila Sohoni, Crackdowns, 103 Va. L. Rev. 31, 33–34 (2017). and when and where to focus their resources.228See generally Jeffrey Fagan, Garth Davies & Adam Carlis, Race and Selective Enforcement in Public Housing, 9 J. Empirical Legal Studs. 697 (2012) (describing selective enforcement of criminal trespass by race or public housing status). For example, police will decide which crime scene images should be subjected to facial recognition. There is no guarantee that they will pursue arrest and prosecution of violent or destructive participants at Black Lives Matter protests or at a pro-Trump rallies with the same vigor.

iii.  Controlling the Data

Whether police use government-held data or data held by private companies to operate a filtered dragnet, they can exert some influence over the process if they are allowed to use a subset of available information to run through the filtered dragnet.229Indeed, this is one counterintuitive reason it may be better to have police access data from third-party companies rather than collecting it themselves, so that private industry may serve as a source of public information and whistle blowing. Farhang Heydari, Hoover Inst., Aegis Series Paper No. 2106, Understanding Police Reliance on Private Data 6 (2021). For example, if the government were able to limit DNA-matching to the data collected from ex-convicts only, or if a geofence warrant could direct a service provider to look for matching records only among customers who live in a certain precinct, the police could do an end run around the discretion-reducing function of filtered dragnets.

iv.  Downstream Decisions

After a suspect is identified by a filtered dragnet, police and prosecutors still have unchecked power to use leniency and to simply not pursue the leads that they do not like.230Discretion among judges at the point of sentencing seems to reduce racial disparities or, at least, make them no worse. See Drug Arrests Stayed High Even as Imprisonment Fell From 2009 to 2019, Pew Charitable Trs. (Feb. 15, 2022) https://www.pewtrusts.org/en/research-and-analysis/issue-briefs/2022/02/drug-arrests-stayed-high-even-as-imprisonment-fell-from-2009-to-2019 [https://perma.cc/Z65C-26JF]. It is possible that institutional and cultural influences downstream have started to change the risks of disparate racial impact over time. See generally Joshua B. Fischman & Max M. Schanzenbach, Racial Disparities Under the Federal Sentencing Guidelines: The Role of Judicial Discretion and Mandatory Minimums, 9 J. Empirical Legal Studs. 729 (2012).

The unifying theme across these decision-making practices is that the Supreme Court has avoided interfering with law enforcement discretion any time it has a plausible connection to judgment about the best use of resources. In Whren v. United States, the Supreme Court rejected a constitutional challenge by a criminal defendant who was pulled over for making an illegal U-turn. The defendant argued that the police would not have pulled over a white person, or any person about whom the police did not have a pre-existing “hunch,” under similar circumstances.231Whren v. United States, 517 U.S. 806, 809 (1996). The court believed that the defendant’s theory of unequal enforcement of minor traffic infractions was irrelevant and unworkable.232Id. at 815. At the time it probably was.233In individual cases, it would have been difficult to prove that race was a but-for cause of a police officer’s decision to conduct a seizure. However, even at the time, some argued that the fact that race clearly played a role systemically should have been sufficient for the Court to decide that pretextual stops violated the Fourth Amendment. See Tracey Maclin, Race and the Fourth Amendment, 51 Vand. L. Rev. 333, 375 (1998). But it is not anymore and will be even less so in the future. Today, a defendant bringing a case like Whren might have the data, thanks to GPS tracking of police and civilian cars, to demonstrate that police pull over only a small fraction of the illegal U-turns and other traffic infractions that they observe, and that the enforcement disproportionately targets minority drivers (if this is so).234Christopher Slobogin has characterized law enforcement use of pretextual stops as a species of general warrant. Slobogin, Virtual Searches, supra note 29 at 102.

If police are able to use filtered surveillance to solve crimes at minimal expense, there will be even less need for discretion. So, if police have a filtered dragnet, courts must make sure they have an acceptable response to the question: “Why did you enforce the criminal law here and not there?”235See generally Harcourt & Meares, supra note 18 (recommending that the degree of suspicion and the evenhandedness of a search program should be of utmost Fourth Amendment importance).

In summary, a government that has the capacity to detect criminal behavior at very high rates must come under heightened standards of care with respect to the promulgation of criminal laws, the use of incarceration and punishment, and the application of detection tools.

V.  THE ANTI-AUTHORITARIAN FOURTH AMENDMENT

Anti-authoritarianism, rather than privacy, should be the benchmark for the Fourth Amendment when police develop cases using filtered dragnets. What makes facial recognition or a geofence or some other form of filtered dragnet “reasonable” is not that the privacy of the innocent is protected—they will all do that. Rather, an “unreasonable” use of these technologies means the state is misusing its power to punish and control.

The current trajectory of Fourth Amendment caselaw suggests that we are headed for one of two suboptimal endpoints: either the state will be able to use filtered dragnets with little to protect its citizens from the perils of broad criminal laws, harsh criminal sentences, and selective enforcement, or the state will effectively be prohibited from using filtered dragnets, leaving a criminal justice status quo that nobody would devise and few would defend.236Barkow, supra note 100, at 5 (“One could say our approach to crime is a failed government program on an epic scale, except for the fact it is not a program at all. It is the cumulative effect of many isolated decisions to pursue tough policies without analyzing them to consider whether they work or, even worse, are harmful.”). But if the courts start to take seriously the fundamental differences between filtered dragnets and other investigation techniques—if they recognize that technology can explode longstanding assumptions about the nature of risk when police increase the detection of crime—courts can harness the disruptive technology and help society land in a better equilibrium.

Thus, the Fourth Amendment must evolve to demand “reasonableness” when detection is easy. The thrust of my proposal is that the phrase “reasonable searches and seizures” should be understood as a more expansive and robust guarantee of reasonableness.237To some extent, this builds on the constitutional case law and scholarship that give the “reasonableness” phrase pride of place in Fourth Amendment interpretation. See Akhil Reed Amar, The Constitution and Criminal Procedure: First Principles 35 (1997); Miriam H. Baer, Law Enforcement’s Lochner, 105 Minn. L. Rev. 1667, 1730 (2021); Renan, supra note 135, at 1044, 1081–82. Specifically, the requirement of “reasonable” seizures should guarantee that the consequences of a seizure (e.g., carceral arrest and a possible prison sentence) are fitting and proportionate to the gravity of the suspected crime. The requirement of “reasonable” searches should guarantee not only that the search is conducted based on probable cause and in line with established warrant requirements, but also that the decision to search or not search is reasonable and non-arbitrary. The former ensures that the criminal law being enforced is serious enough to justify the loss of rights that comes along with an arrest or a long sentence. The latter ensures that criminal detection tools are used in an even-handed manner.

A.  Reasonable Seizing—Restricting the Substantive Criminal Law

The prospect of near-perfect detection requires more care in defining a reasonable seizure. In order for a carceral seizure of a person to be reasonable, state uses of force and coercion involved must be justified by the harm that the arrestee has imposed on society. “Freedom from unreasonable . . . seizures” should be interpreted to protect the interests of individuals who have engaged in conduct that is technically illegal but not morally reprehensible.238See generally Robert M. Cover, Violence and the Word, 95 Yale L.J. 1601, 1608 (1986) (reminding readers that all prison sentences are backed by the credible threat of state violence). Again, my argument is similar to Bill Stuntz’s work suggesting the physical intrusion and coercion of the policing process to be the main source of trouble. William J. Stuntz, Privacy’s Problem and the Law of Criminal Procedure, 93 Mich. L. Rev. 1016, 1026 (1995). Thomas Jefferson’s unfinished vision laid out in the Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen provides the blueprint. Article 4 states, “Liberty consists in the power to do anything that does not injure others”; Article 5 states, “The law has the right to forbid only such actions as are injurious to society”; and Article 8 states, “The law ought to establish only penalties that are strictly and obviously necessary.”239Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen (France 1789), https://avalon.law.yale.edu/18th_century/rightsof.asp [https://perma.cc/VZF7-CZ6G].

A seizure should only be reasonable if the underlying criminal conduct and the resulting punishment are also reasonable. While substantive due process rights and the Eighth Amendment provide some absolute constitutional limits against unreasonable criminal codes or punishments, these rights must be bolstered in the face of near-perfect detection. An analysis of reasonable seizures in light of filtered dragnets has two aspects to it: (1) whether the behavior is sufficiently blameworthy to belong in the criminal code at all, and (2) if so, whether the punishment fits the risks and harms of the crime.

Is the conduct crime-worthy? The first inquiry asks whether the suspect’s conduct is bad enough to justify arrest and incarceration at all.240Given the public interest in having the state intermediate misdemeanor and civil infractions as well, non-carceral short-term seizures should not require judicial scrutiny of the substance of the law. See Rachel A. Harmon, Why Arrest?, 115 Mich. L. Rev. 307, 359 (2016). This is a threshold issue. Criminal conviction needs to be blameworthy and stigmatizing. Defining what sort of conduct is “blameworthy” raises deep philosophical questions, but there is an aspect of the question that is empirical: it needs to be rare. If the conduct captured by the scope of the criminal codes is commonplace, the actor’s community evidently has not incorporated restraint deeply into its moral fabric.241A useful methodology may be the sort of surveys of past behavior that Tom Tyler relied on in his seminal work, Why People Obey the Law. One survey of Chicago residents suggested that there might be a natural breakpoint between minor traffic violations and neighborhood infractions, where survey respondents sometimes engaged in the activity (even if rarely), and the conduct for which over 90% of respondents state they have never engaged in (e.g., theft). Tyler, supra note 93, at 41. In those cases, government intervention short of criminal liability (including expressive law, civil fines, or positive reinforcement for its opposite) should be used.242To increase cultural legitimacy, punishment should rely more on reputation and relationship consequences than on punishment. Stuntz, supra note 15, at 30–31. One broad category of criminal laws that may deserve constitutional scrutiny are laws that criminalize the possession or sale of contraband items to adults. These are acts that are transactional. Kleiman, supra note 20, at 154–55.

This is at odds with cases like Atwater, where the court refused to second-guess a local government’s decision to criminalize a minor driving infraction,243Atwater v. Largo Vista, 532 U.S. 318, 323–24 (2001). but Fourth Amendment case law does occasionally break rank with Atwater and peeks at the substance of the criminal violation in order to gauge the reasonableness of a procedure. For example, when analyzing whether a warrantless traffic checkpoint is constitutional as a reasonable warrantless seizure, the Supreme Court explicitly considers “the gravity of the public concerns served by the seizure” as one of the factors.244Illinois v. Lidster, 540 U.S. 419, 427 (2004) (quoting Brown v. Texas, 443 U.S. 47, 51 (1979)). And the Court has refused to allow exigent circumstances to excuse the failure to secure a warrant for a home search and arrest when the underlying crime is a minor offense.245Welsh v. Wisconsin, 466 U.S. 740, 750 (1984) (citing McDonald v. United States, 335 U.S. 451, 459–60 (Jackson, J., concurring)). And Atwater is ahistorical: a quick tour of the notorious cases the Crown directed against colonists that inspired the Bill of Rights are offensive, in large part, because of the substance of the crimes. These included crimes such as writing or publishing “gross and scandalous reflections and invectives upon his majesty’s government” or the crimes of illegal trade and inadequate record-keeping.246Laura K. Donohue, The Original Fourth Amendment, 83 U. Chi. L. Rev. 1181, 1197 (quoting Entick v. Carrington, 19 Howell’s State Trials 1029, 1034 (CP 1765)), 1199 (publishing criticism), 1243 (illegal trade and recordkeeping), 1247 (same) (2016). Moreover, Donohue describes the limits in eighteenth century England to the meaning of the term “felon” or “felony,” which included only the most morally reprehensible crimes such as murder, theft, suicide, rape, and arson. Id. at 1222–23.

Is the punishment too harsh? If the suspect’s conduct is reprehensible enough to pass the initial threshold test, a post-conviction seizure could still be unreasonable if the quality and length of detention is disproportionately harsh.247Andrew von Hirsch, Doing Justice: The Choice of Punishments 66–83 (1976). The sentences of many crimes, even violent crimes, could probably be reduced to weeks or days, or even converted to non-carceral forms of punishment (like public service or surveillance-enabled supervised release) without increasing crime rates if detection rates were much higher than they currently are. Long-term prison sentences can be reserved for murder, treason, severe sexual assault, severe child abuse, and for the incapacitation of repeat criminals.248See generally Eric Helland & Alexander Tabarrok, Does Three Strikes Deter?: A Nonparametric Estimation, 42 J. Hum. Res. 309 (2007) (finding significant deterrent effect, and not just incapacitation effect, from three strikes laws). For other crimes, detection through filtered dragnets, rather than a small chance of very harsh punishment, can be the door jamb that stops the metaphorical revolving door of recidivism.

B.  Reasonable Searching—Minimizing Discretion

A police department’s use of filtered dragnets will be fair if it avoids gaps in the protection from crime as well as gaps in leniency from enforcement.

1.  Duty to Search

All cases of reported or otherwise known crimes that are equally suitable for filtered dragnets should be investigated.249At the very least, they should be investigated randomly rather than haphazardly. See Harcourt & Meares, supra note 18, at 851–54. For example, if a police department can use filtered dragnets to detect gun violence or robberies, and it fails to investigate daytime violence and robberies taking place near low-income schools even though it investigates every daytime robbery or assault that takes place near high-income schools,250Forman, supra note 7, at 125. the uneven use of filtered dragnets would render it an unreasonable search. As a practical matter, while it would make more sense for a constitutional challenge to come in the form of a § 1983 claim brought by a resident who is harmed by a detectable or deterrable crime, the challenge is more likely to emerge when a criminal defendant brings a claim similar to the claim brought in Whren (arguing that although they committed an offense, the crime is unequally enforced).251Whren v. United States, 517 U.S. 806, 810 (1996). Courts should be open to a claim and evidentiary proof of this sort.

2.  Duty to Cast a Large Dragnet

Law enforcement should not have undue control defining the search pool that will be used by a filtered dragnet. The database that will be used to cross-check against the facts of a crime should include everyone possible whose data is accessible and whose participation in the crime would not be an impossibility. This reduces the risk of arbitrariness or bias that could result if police search for potential leads and matches in one population while ignoring another.

By this standard, facial recognition systems like Clearview AI are more legitimate (in the sense of being less susceptible to bias or discretion, at least) when they match surveillance footage at a crime scene against the largest possible set of publicly available portraits on the open web. Contrast this with DNA filtered dragnets: it is increasingly common and popular to restrict local law enforcement who are running DNA searches to CODIS, the federally maintained database of arrestee or convict DNA samples.252Kaye & Smith, supra note 146, at 414–15; Ram, supra note 34, at 789 (it is not fair to subject relatives of people who are in the CODIS database to more police scrutiny than relatives of those who are not). Local police departments have expanded their DNA databases by choosing to include “exclusion samples” (that is, DNA samples collected from suspects or victims) and juvenile defendants. Lazer & Meyer, supra note 33, at 904. Whatever rationale might justify subjecting convicts to greater likelihood of being caught in their own future crimes, the logic does not follow to arrestees or to individuals whose crimes are detected through familial DNA.253Lazer & Meyer, supra note 33, at 909–11. Commentators have noted the race disparities in likelihood of detection that result from using arrestee DNA only. Ram, supra note 34, at 789.

The principle of evenhanded enforcement is consonant with what Bennett Capers meant when he argued that equitable policing may require “redistributing privacy.”254Bennett Capers, supra note 59, at 1243–45 (“In exchange for a reduction in hard surveillance of people of color, it will require an increase in soft surveillance of everyone.”). But it may require courts to enforce subpoenas or issue warrants in order to pierce through corporate policies that resist law enforcement access.255See generally Yan Fang, Internet Technology Companies as Evidence Intermediaries, 110 Va. L. Rev. (forthcoming 2024). These policies are already in place at some companies.256Ancestry, Ancestry Privacy Statement (Aug. 11, 2020), https://www.ancestry.com/c/legal/privacystatement_2020_8_11#:~:text=In%20the%20interest%20of%20transparency,data%20across%20all%20our%20sites.&text=We%20may%20share%20your%20Personal,(e.g.%2C%20subpoenas%2C%20warrants)%3B [https://perma.cc/Y8NN-FSXJ]. Of course, there may be times when law enforcement resources really are constrained so that investigating every trackable crime or casting the widest possible dragnet will not be possible, but the police should be able to offer some reasonable explanation. And an explanation that would not be reasonable is that too many individuals would be caught: if the availability of filtered dragnets forces law enforcement to confront the problem that there are too many criminal acts, the proper government response is to revisit and narrow or purge some of the substantive criminal laws.

C.  Police Culture: The Era of the Nerdy Police Force

The adoption of filtered dragnets will require law enforcement agencies to become more technocratic. Much of the initial investigation work is likely to be centralized, in upper management working at desks, and their compliance with Fourth Amendment restrictions will require competence, if not expertise, in statistical methods and data auditing procedures. To some extent, this change in operations is already happening with the gradual introduction of DNA forensic labs, facial recognition, and now, reverse searches. With clear Fourth Amendment guidance for filtered dragnets, police forces could rapidly adopt filtered dragnets and divest somewhat from traditional techniques. Police operations would shift away from self-initiated patrols and field-based investigation toward data-driven initiation and investigation. This will change who is qualified for and attracted to a policing job. Police investigators who are used to solving cases through interrogations and informants will begin to feel like the baseball scouts who still visit high school and college teams looking for “good legs” while their younger, nerdier, and (eventually) better paid colleagues use Bill James-style statistics to prioritize the team’s recruiting efforts.257See generally Michael Lewis, Moneyball (2003).

This may prove to be a feature—a way to achieve the reform of police culture by working backwards from shared ends that are appealing to both suburban families and Black Lives Matter activists (lowering crime, reducing false convictions, and achieving even-handed enforcement). The cultural shift can provide counterpressure to a problem that currently plagues police recruitment—that the people most interested in working for law enforcement have stronger-than-average preferences for meting out punishment.258Dharmapala et al., supra note 67, at 107. All the more reason civil liberties organizations should reconsider their instinctive negative reactions to filtered dragnets.

The criminal defense bar may get transformed, too. Andrew Ferguson has made the case that law enforcement data-collection and data-mining practices can be inverted to discover negligent or abusive practices within police departments.259Andrew Guthrie Ferguson, The Exclusionary Rule in the Age of Blue Data, 72 Vand. L. Rev. 561, 600–08 (2019). Defendants can make use of “blue data” to prove their cases that, for example, law enforcement had used an unreasonably narrow dragnet.260Id. To be fully effective, blue data investigations may require increased transparency and access to police programs. See generally Hannah Bloch-Wehba, Visible Policing: Technology, Transparency, and Democratic Control, 109 Calif. L. Rev. 917 (2021). This may offend a police department’s sense of agency and self-determination, but this is a reasonable price to pay for the power and efficiency of filtered dragnets.261Some will no doubt be concerned that filtered dragnets are a progression of the sort of bureaucratization of policing that has already caused dysfunction—the Compstat meetings, bulk, assembly-line adjudication, et cetera. Stuntz, supra note 15, at 57. But it is not clear that there are viable alternatives to a bureaucratic police force.

VI.  ADDRESSING FRIENDLY OBJECTIONS

Some readers will no doubt disagree with my description of the looming opportunities and problems that will arise with filtered dragnets, and as a result will reject the policy solutions offered in Part V. I addressed doubts about the upsides of filtered surveillance or the downsides of near-perfect detection as best I can in those earlier Parts. Whatever disagreements about the policy implications remain will have to be aired in other fora. Here, I address some objections that will be raised even by readers who agree that the policies advanced in this Article are sound.

“Friendly” critics will wonder why it is necessary to constitutionalize these policies rather than advocating for a legislative response. The answer, in brief, is that constitutional protections are the only viable tools when several criminal justice rules must be changed at the same time.

Friendly critics may also wonder why the Fourth Amendment is the right vehicle for course correction even if all agree that constitutional law must be pressed into service. On this question, I am more neutral. If the Eighth Amendment and Due Process clauses can be interpreted to reach the same anti-authoritarian objectives, there is little reason to insist on the Fourth Amendment as the primary source of these rights. But since filtered dragnets will inevitably cause seismic activity in Fourth Amendment law, and since highly efficient searches are the reason that the threat of government tyranny will become more pronounced, it is at least fair to say that the Fourth Amendment could be the right constitutional source for the anti-authoritarian rights described in Part V.

A.  Why the Courts? (Or, Why Not the Legislature?)

Not every problem in law enforcement needs to be solved through the constitution, but this one does. The political process is exceedingly unlikely to get us out of our criminal justice rut, where low detection rates are messily compensated through criminal liability for minor infractions. Political winds bob from too much lenity to authoritarian severity,262Stuntz, supra note 15, at 34–35. and as a result, surveillance restrictions and decriminalization usually rise and fall together depending on whether the mood is pro-rights or anti-crime. Political institutions do not have the tools to break surveillance and substantive criminal law apart and to work out a criminal justice horse trade. But a horse trade is what we need: we simultaneously need the police to detect more violent crime while also ensuring that no person who is caught with a $10 baggie of drugs could ever be in a position to go to prison for the rest of their life.263Forman, supra note 7, at 121 (describing a former client in this position). Even the more probable outcome—a five-year sentence, say, id. at 122, is vastly over-punitive compared to the risk of harm posed to the community. See generally Jane Bambauer & Andrea Roth, From Damage Caps to Decarceration: Extending Tort Law Safeguards to Criminal Sentencing, 101 B.U. L. Rev. 1667 (2021).

This trade—reduced criminal liability in exchange for greater detection—can only be accomplished through constitutional adjustment. If criminal liability and punishment are reduced without a simultaneous increase in detection, crime rates will rise and the ballot box consequences for political actors will be harsh. If detection capacity is increased without any change to the criminal codes, the political actors’ constituents will be justifiably nervous about how the newfound power of detection will be used. But if the two reforms happen at the same time—if the state is constrained by constitutional interpretation from detaining or imprisoning individuals based on minor infractions, or from levying long sentences for anything other than the most serious and violent offenses—surveillance is defanged because the threat of unjust prosecution is reduced.264See generally Bambauer & Roth, supra note 263 (using a new empirical approach to measure just sentences and finding that criminal sentences are disproportionate to the social harm the crimes caused).

Put another way, the political pressure to limit or ban surveillance tools might make sense as a second-best solution if decriminalization and reduced sentencing is politically infeasible, but the risk is that the strategy can lock out the first best solution—the low penalty/high detection solution. Indeed, in the wake of rising murder rates, the decriminalization and police reform movements are already more politically controversial than they were just a couple years ago. If crime rates continue to rise while detection is capped or suppressed through new legal constraints on technology, politically accountable decisionmakers will continue to use mass incarceration to manage crime.

To be fair, many luminaries in the field of criminal justice have seen roughly the same patterns of dysfunction and technological disruption that I have recounted and have recommended solutions in the form of legislation, administrative regulation, and restoring the role of local government. Bill Stuntz, for example, argued that many of the abuses of power in the criminal justice system would be avoided if local governments (rather than states) were the primary promulgators of criminal law and if juries (rather than prosecutors) were the decisionmakers who most often determined whether a defendant should be convicted or serve time.265Stuntz, supra note 15, at 8, 39. See generally Wayne A. Logan, Fourth Amendment Localism, 93 Ind. L.J. 369 (2018). Chris Slobogin, Barry Friedman, Maria Ponomarenko, Catherine Crump, and Andrew Ferguson have argued that legislatures and regulatory agencies should be more active in structuring how (non-filtered) dragnet and surveillance technologies should and should not be used in the field.266Ferguson, supra note 9, at 272. See generally Christopher Slobogin, Panvasive Surveillance, Political Process Theory, and the Nondelegation Doctrine, 102 Geo. L.J. 1721 (2014); Barry Friedman & Maria Ponomarenko, Democratic Policing, 90 N.Y.U. L. Rev. 1827 (2015); Catherine Crump, Surveillance Policy Making by Procurement, 91 Wash. L. Rev. 1595 (2016). But they also acknowledge that politically accountable bodies always run the risk that their decisions will disproportionately benefit the politically powerful and will be relatively indifferent to problems of under-protection and prejudiced enforcement.267Slobogin, supra note 132, at 134.

Daphna Renan has argued, convincingly in my opinion, that political processes alone cannot be expected to produce the sort of basic rights and counter-majoritarian protections that the Constitution should guarantee.268See generally Renan, supra note 135. Our agreement ends there, though, because Renan advocates for a Fourth Amendment superstructure, or set of principles, that would set requirements and boundaries on administrative agencies (such as the Privacy and Civil Liberties Oversight Board) tasked with creating law enforcement surveillance programs.269Id. at 1108–25. Again, Renan is primarily (though not exclusively) analyzing surveillance technologies that are not crime-driven filtered types of tools that I focus on here. But no board, no matter how independent, could actually make the grand maneuver that I’m asking readers to consider here—where filtered dragnets are permitted, but in exchange for protection from bad laws, harsh punishment, and discretionary application. Renan’s proposal may be a good second-best solution, but a dramatic reorientation of constitutional priorities can only be done by the Supreme Court. It is time for constitutional renewal in search of a better equilibrium.270Jack M. Balkin, The Cycles of Constitutional Time 44–65 (2020) (describing cycles of constitutional “rot,” where the accretion of rules and exceptions have permitted authoritarian practices to fester, and “renewal,” where constitutional theory and courts correct course).

B.  Why the Fourth Amendment?

The harder question, and I confess this is where I am on shakier ground, is why the anti-authoritarian principles that I claim are so important during this inflection point are the responsibility of the Fourth Amendment to solve rather than other parts of the Bill of Rights or notions of substantive due process.271Christopher Slobogin, A Defense of Privacy as the Central Value Protected by the Fourth Amendment’s Prohibition on Unreasonable Searches, 48 Tex. Tech. L. Rev. 143, 155 (2015). The case is somewhat easier for the principle that reasonable searching requires evenhandedness. At the founding, the Fourth and Fifth Amendments were meant to prevent the government from being able to rummage through a disfavored target’s things looking for evidence of a crime, so equal and non-arbitrary treatment was always a goal.272Stuntz, supra note 15, at 72.

The case for using the Fourth Amendment to put constraints on substantive criminal law and sentencing is a bit harder. After all, the Supreme Court has repeatedly authorized law enforcement agencies to execute stops, searches, and arrests, no matter how trivial the law-violating behavior may be to overall public safety.273See discussion of Atwater and Whren, supra Part V. As early as Boyd v. United States, decided in 1886, the Court found that Fourth Amendment protections do not apply to those who have committed a public offense, and courts have declined to second-guess whether the public offense was valid in the course of a Fourth Amendment analysis.274Boyd v. United States, 116 U.S. 616, 630 (1886). The Fourth Amendment protects rights that have “never been forfeited by his conviction of some public offence.” Id. And one may reasonably think that if courts are going to invalidate an overly harsh prison sentence on constitutional grounds, as I argue they should under the guise of protecting against unreasonable seizures, they would have already imposed these limits under the Eighth Amendment’s cruel and unusual punishment clause.275Harmelin v. Michigan, 501 U.S. 957, 997 (1991) (while the Eighth Amendment prohibits “grossly disproportionate” mandatory sentences, noncapital sentences would almost never be found to be grossly disproportionate).

Perhaps it would make as much sense to make Eighth Amendment or Due Process protections more robust to ensure that criminal liability is not overbroad and sentences aren’t overlong.276Note, though, that the Court has already stated a reluctance to expand substantive due process if other parts of the Bill of Rights are relevant to the claim. Sacramento v. Lewis, 523 U.S. 833, 842 (1998). But a long view of the Fourth Amendment can support a shift from the protection of the property, privacy, and autonomy of non-offenders to the protection of those same interests of those who are innocent in the more platonic sense.

In many ways, the history of Fourth Amendment caselaw shows a faltering and incoherent attempt to get to the main point: to make sure the state does not have too much power to enforce silly crimes and scare its constituents into submission.277Cloud, supra note 14, at 202. Cloud also notes that early Fourth Amendment case law was designed to constrain discretion (or “autonomy”) of law enforcement and the judiciary. Id. at 276–284. Silly crimes have been at the center of the original construction of the Fourth Amendment and each of its major reforms. Shortly after the American Revolution, sedition laws motivated creative lawyers like Alexander Hamilton to use procedure in order to correct flaws in the substantive criminal law that were not, at that time, adequately constrained by the First Amendment.278Stuntz, supra note 15, at 71–72. It is particularly strange that the attack required procedural rather than substantive challenges because prosecutions for the crime of seditious libel conducted by the British Crown was a major motivating force behind the Bill of Rights. Thomas P. Crocker, The Political Fourth Amendment, 88 Wash. U. L. Rev. 303, 309, 346 (2010). In the context of that time, when states had nearly full rein to search for physical evidence and when prosecutions were proved primarily using witnesses, the thought that constitutional protections could get in the way of convicting rapists and murderers would have been preposterous.279Tracey Maclin, The Supreme Court and the Fourth Amendment’s Exclusionary Rule 83–100 (2013); Stuntz, supra note 15, at 71–72. After all, the founders did not expect the Fourth Amendment to constrain how local law enforcement investigated crimes, and group searches executed without particularized warrants were tolerated.280Slobogin, Virtual Searches, supra note 29 at 103. Prior to the 1960s, state courts interpreted their constitutional guarantees of freedom from unreasonable searches and seizures to be very permissive. The investigation strategies that police departments adopted were generally considered reasonable. Stuntz, supra note 15 at 68–69. Thus, at that time, the buildup of procedure to help protect against crimes of belief and thought had little cost to the control of more conventional crimes.

Courts again increased Fourth Amendment procedural protections during two subsequent periods when the substance of criminal law was directed at questionable, arguably victimless vice crimes like gambling, alcohol (during prohibition), obscenity, and recreational drugs.281Stuntz, supra note 15, at 110. In the twentieth century, new information technologies changed the nature of police investigation by enabling wiretapping and forms of long-term tracking of suspects without reliance on trespass or witness cooperation. The standard story is that these technologies unsettled the balance between conflicting societal goals related to police investigations, which is true enough. But another important factor is that the test cases involved the detection and enforcement of gambling, bootlegging, and drug distribution crimes. Katz v. United States, the Fourth Amendment case that developed the reasonable expectations of privacy test, involved bugging a phone a bookmaker was using.282Katz v. United States, 389 U.S. 347, 348 (1967). And it followed the logic of Justice Brandeis’s dissent in an earlier case, Olmstead v. United States,283Olmstead v. United States, 277 U.S. 438, 471 (1928) (Brandeis, J., dissenting). which involved the wiretapping of a bootlegger.284Katz, 389 U.S. at 361 (Harlan, J., concurring). Katz marked the end of a primarily property-based conception of Fourth Amendment rights and ushered in the privacy phase. When test facts making their way to the Supreme Court involved more serious crimes, like stalking, the Supreme Court avoided finding a privacy violation.285Smith v. Maryland, 442 U.S. 735, 745–46 (1979). Bill Stuntz critiqued the privacy turn, noting that Fourth Amendment litigation became much too focused on privacy and failed to ameliorate problems of physical security (especially bodily security) when suspects were routinely frisked and thrown to the ground. Stuntz, supra note 15, at 37. See also Michael Klarman, Rethinking the Civil Rights and Civil Liberties Revolutions, 82 Va. L. Rev. 1 (1996).

To be clear, there are other reasons, separate from the substance of the criminal law being enforced, that justify a focus on privacy. Twentieth century surveillance capabilities certainly left Americans—criminals and the innocent alike—at greater risk of unwanted observation of licit activities. But there is also a clear pattern: courts have used criminal procedure to frustrate the enforcement of controversial criminal statutes that cover activities in which a sizable proportion of Americans willingly participate.286The converse is also true: when crime rates spike among the crimes that are most important to a well-functioning society, such as crimes of violence, Fourth Amendment procedural protections are tuned down. Yale Kamisar, The Warren Court and Criminal Justice: A Quarter-Century Retrospective, 31 Tulsa L.J. 1, 2–3 (1995). Once privacy posed a significant obstacle to police investigations, procedural rights became the default defense against a tyrannical state. There was less pressing need to press the Constitution into service to challenge whether conduct should even be considered criminal in the first place or whether the police are protecting communities fairly. For better or worse, the Fourth Amendment privacy rule created a tractor beam for public defenders and civil liberties organizations to concentrate their anti-authoritarian efforts.

Scholars have occasionally attempted to refocus the Fourth Amendment on a more general purpose to create a constraint on power.287Or to create a “constraint on the power of the sovereign, not merely on some of its agents” Arizona v. Evans, 514 U.S. 1, 18 (1995) (Stevens, J., dissenting). With gratitude to Tom Crocker for highlighting this passage. Crocker, supra note 278, at 335 n.188. Bill Stuntz faulted Fourth Amendment’s turn to privacy because it “tend[ed] to obscure more serious harms that attend police misconduct.”288William J. Stuntz, Privacy’s Problem and the Law of Criminal Procedure, 93 Mich. L. Rev. 1016, 1020 (1995). More recently, Thomas Crocker has argued that the Fourth Amendment should be understood as a substantive right, not just a procedural one, that follows in the vision of the First, Second, and Ninth Amendments.289As well as the Fifth Amendment’s takings clause. Crocker, supra note 278, at 309–10, 343. But ultimately, Crocker advocates for the use of this substantive right to argue for a more thorough protection against surveillance.290Id. at 311. Naturally, I think this misses the point. A citizen whose government makes nearly all conduct and action illegal will never feel secure no matter how many restrictions on surveillance are in place. And conversely, a government that is rigidly constrained from expanding its criminal laws beyond the conduct that is nearly universally reviled will be limited in its ability to threaten a citizen’s sense of liberty no matter how much surveillance is in place.

The happenstance of technology provides another reason to prefer the Fourth Amendment over other constitutional sources to redress the problems of overcriminalization and uneven protection. The privacy of the innocent was mediating the clash between American values in freedom and security. Increasing use of filtered dragnets will make this arrangement untenable. If we expect the role of the Fourth Amendment to be meaningful—to be something other than a brief paperwork requirement in the process of securing warrants for filtered dragnets—it is both necessary and appropriate that Fourth Amendment caselaw starts to look for its root function and embrace its substantive as well as procedural dimensions.

CONCLUSION

In 1967, Alan Westin, a leading light among privacy scholars, said that “the modern totalitarian state relies on secrecy for the regime, but high surveillance and disclosure for all other groups.”291Alan Westin, Privacy and Freedom 23 (1967). This is probably a true statement, but highly incomplete. Surveillance is a necessary condition for authoritarian control, but not sufficient on its own. Indeed, all modern states need surveillance. Modern systems of taxation, public benefits distribution, medical services, and public health could not function without copious amounts of personal data. Thus, surveillance is necessary for all states, not just despotic ones. Moreover, surveillance is no more unique to totalitarianism than are weapons, prisons, and other tools the state must use to carry out the most basic obligations to support social order and security.

The tools that live exclusively in the toolbox of despots are repressive substantive criminal laws, harsh punishment, and discretion to choose when to enforce the law. Even in George Orwell’s dark depiction Nineteen Eighty-Four, Big Brother was oppressive partly because of the substance of the law: the wrong thought could land a person in jail.292See generally, George Orwell, Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949).

Against this threat of uncontrolled surveillance, many privacy scholars recommend the dismantling of the surveillance apparatus. This Article focused instead on the “uncontrolled” quality of uncontrolled surveillance. Filtered dragnets are a highly controlled dragnet that reveal only criminal violations. Thus, they are only as threatening to society as the criminal statutes that they enforce and the discretion of the government agents who use them. With the right alignment of Fourth Amendment rules to authoritarian threats, the state can be made to heel—to detect crimes fairly without burdening any communities with under-protection or over-punishment. This will require some intrusion of the traditionally procedural domain of the Fourth Amendment into the substantive realm of criminal law and punishment. If the state can suddenly detect every violation, prison must be reserved for truly awful behavior, and law enforcement should have less latitude to seek out or avoid the investigations of members of certain groups.

These are radical proposals. They go well beyond the privacy framework that has dominated Fourth Amendment theory for over half a century. But they respond to a radical tool that will shock a criminal justice system that is already in crisis and deserves rescue.

97 S. Cal. L. Rev. 571

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* University of Arizona James E. Rogers College of Law. The author is grateful for the advice and invaluable feedback from Jordan Blair Woods, Tracey Maclin, Farhang Heydari, Toni Massaro, Tammi Walker, John Villasenor, Andrew Woods, Lilla Montagnani, Kiel Brennan-Marquez, Jeffrey Fagan, Christopher Slobogin, Derek Bambauer, Mark Verstraete, Xiaoqian Hu, Andrew Coan, Niva Elkin-Koren, Uri Hcohen, and Tal Zarsky.

Miss-Stake by IRS: Proof-of-Stake’s Underinclusive Regulatory Guidance

Death and taxes are the two certainties of life, and for some, the former may be more conceptually pleasant than the latter. To allay some of that unpleasantness, this Note uses the IRS’s guidance (or lack thereof) on the taxation of new types of digital currencies to provide a basic conceptual understanding of how tax law is formed. “Staking rewards,” which is income derived from new types of digital currencies, have sparked debate over when it should be taxed. However, such ambiguity has failed to elicit a clear response from the IRS.

It is understandable why this area of law feels convoluted to many. Unlike other disciplines, tax law is not judge-made law. Therefore, tax law often lacks clear natural-language holdings from case law. Instead, it is applied either statutorily (under the Internal Revenue Code) or administratively (through regulations, notices, and letters from the IRS). This Note illustrates that in many instances, our tax system is not as convoluted or ambiguous as it is appears.

This Note looks at the IRS’s non-response up until the Revenue Ruling on July 31, 2023, to argue that such silence regarding income from staking rewards was not only deliberate but also necessary, at least during that time. This argument analyzes the taxation of staking rewards in three parts. Part I explains the background and mechanics of staking rewards and how those traits factor into questions of how it should be taxed. Scholarship on taxing staking rewards is growing yet scarce, and typically published either by advocates or adversaries of digital currencies. Accordingly, Part I of this Note also provides a consolidation of arguments and analyses from both sides of the debate. Part II outlines what is left unclear by the Internal Revenue Code, the IRS, and case law. Part III explains what the IRS had ruled up until the recent Revenue Ruling, and what guidance may be expected to follow. Here, in Part III, is this Note’s novel contribution. Part III uses the debate on staking rewards as a lens to justify non-guidance by the IRS to balance the risk of stifling innovation in new technology sectors and avoid commitment to “unfair” tax guidance. These considerations draw on tort law to illustrate the need to allow for development of a sufficient “background of experience” before regulating developing technology into the ground.

INTRODUCTION

Digital assets, cryptocurrency, and blockchain are areas of rapid growth in the legal field and are consequently raising new questions about their legal and tax implications and treatments. The Internal Revenue Service (“IRS”) has provided some guidance on the taxation of a few mechanisms, such as proof-of-work (“PoW”), Mining, Hard Forks, and transfers to investors and service providers.1Charles R. Zubrzycki, Tax and Accounting Aspects of Virtual Currency, LexisNexis, https://

plus.lexis.com/document/openwebdocview/Tax-and-Accounting-Aspects-of-Virtual-Currency/?pddoc
fullpath=%2Fshared%2Fdocument%2Fanalytical-materials%2Furn%3AcontentItem%3A62PH-S571-JB7K-23MY-00000-00&pdcomponentid=500749&pdmfid=1530671&crid=eac337b2-6033-4b53-ad74-f9b9a36ae1f0 [https://perma.cc/46NG-ESGP] (last updated Nov. 30, 2023).
However, newer applications to blockchain systems, namely proof-of-stake (“PoS”) consensus mechanisms, have highlighted the ambiguities in the existing guidelines. This Note will address two main questions: first, what are the different ways a statutory analysis may qualify the timing and character of staking rewards as assets or income, and second, whether and how the IRS may choose to provide guidance for interpreting and applying the Internal Revenue Code (the “Code”). This Note will only provide a high-level, normative assessment of what “should” be the approach to taxation of staking rewards. It will serve as a roadmap by compiling and interpreting the (limited) guiding authority that has been obscured for a variety of reasons, including writing on the topic, which is primarily the conjecture of staking advocates and cryptocurrency skeptics. This roadmap will explain why Congress and the IRS had, for so long, declined to clarify their intentions to regulate and interpret the reporting requirements of staking rewards, with a focus on why such ambiguity was and is justified for the developing nature of digital currencies under our tax system. More broadly, this Note should be used to understand how and why the IRS finally issued Revenue Ruling 2023-14 on July 31, 2023 stating its opinion that staking rewards should be taxed at receipt.2Rev. Rul. 2023-14, 2023-33 I.R.B. 484, https://www.irs.gov/pub/irs-drop/rr-23-14.pdf [https://perma.cc/P6WL-FVAX]. While there are some arguments that the recent ruling does not necessarily impose tax on all staking rewards, it is premature to explore such edge cases before the IRS’s opinion (which is not binding on courts) is interpreted by a court.3Matthew Dimon, David Forst & Sean McElroy, IRS Issues Revenue Ruling 2023-14 on Staking, JD Supra (Aug. 1, 2023), https://www.jdsupra.com/legalnews/irs-issues-revenue-ruling-2023-14-on-5931377 [http://perma.cc/69VK-3QQB] (noting that the ruling was issued three days after oral arguments in the Jarrett case’s appeal).

I.  BACKGROUND

A.  What Is a Blockchain?

Another more descriptive name for blockchains is “distributed ledgers.” Information is shared among participants on the blockchain (“purveyors”), and transactions are constantly appended to the ledger, and then redistributed to users. Once a majority of those users agree that the new ledger is valid, it becomes the standard for all future transactions. The utility of the blockchain is that every user is incentivized to republish only validated ledgers because to publish an invalid ledger would conflict with the “distributed” version propagated by all the other users and cause the party publishing the invalid ledger to lose credibility and consequently, lose the ability to record its own transactions on the ledger.

If the utility of organizing data like this is not immediately clear, consider a typical property law topic: recording acts. Different jurisdictions have different ramifications for failure to properly record, or check the recording of, a real estate transaction in indices that are maintained by a county clerk. So, prompt recording and diligent record checking are important (but sometimes insufficient) to prevent title disputes in land transactions. For example, imagine purchasers A and B are both interested in purchasing Blackacre from seller X, in a state with a “notice” recording act. Here, A purchases Blackacre from X in year 1, and B “purchases” Blackacre from X in year 2 and records the deed of sale on the same day (before A had recorded her deed). So long as B is a bona fide purchaser, and she did not have notice of A’s transaction, her claim to the property would prevail. Blockchain systems are designed to solve exactly this type of problem. Through use of a “consensus mechanism,” each subsequent transaction is validated before it is added to the ledger, which maintains the integrity of frequently updated data sets. Had Blackacre’s state used such a consensus mechanism, the automatic validation of A’s transaction would generate notice to other buyers like B, not only cementing A’s deed, but also saving B from accidentally buying Blackacre from an unscrupulous seller. This illustrates how seamlessly this kind of technology can promote fair function of law without any change needed to our laws or regulations. While some people are still skeptical of “new blockchain applications,” in 2018, Burlington, Vermont, contracted with a blockchain startup, “Propy,” to provide exactly this kind of blockchain-supported recordkeeping for the County’s recording of land transactions.4Vermont Blockchain Legislation and Propy: Things You Need to Know, Propy (Mar. 28, 2019), https://propy.com/browse/vermont-blockchain-legislation-and-propy-things-you-need-to-know [http://perma.cc/7Y2K-GFK6]; see Office of the Vt. Sec’y of State, Blockchains for Public Recordkeeping and for Recording Land Records 21 (2019), https://sos.vermont.
gov/media/r3jh24ig/vsara_blockchains_for_public_recordkeeping_white_paper_v1.pdf [http://perma.
cc/ZKH6-G2L3].

B.  What Are Consensus Mechanisms and Staking Rewards?

A consensus mechanism is the way in which a blockchain validates transactions of cryptocurrency; the validation itself is carried out through cryptography (encryption or decryption).5Pete Ritter, Joshua Tompkins & Hubert Raglan, Early Signs from Treasury on the Scope of Digital Asset Cost Basis Reporting, The Tax Adviser (June 1, 2022) [hereinafter Ritter, KPMG Article], https://www.thetaxadviser.com/issues/2022/jun/treasury-scope-digital-asset-cost-basis-reporting [https:

//perma.cc/F4DK-V9EK].
Consensus mechanisms used are either PoW or PoS. PoW is the older mechanism (launched by technologies like Bitcoin), which is why it is more familiar to the IRS. PoS mechanisms are newer, and accordingly, enjoy much less tax guidance from the IRS, specifically with respect to “staking rewards” (discussed below). A PoS consensus mechanism expands its ledger and confirms transactions by selecting users to “verify that a transaction is legitimate and add it to the blockchain,” rather than have every user assess the accuracy of each newly published ledger.6E. Napoletano, Proof of Stake Explained, Forbes (Aug. 25, 2023, 1:27 PM), https://www.forbes.com/advisor/investing/cryptocurrency/proof-of-stake [http://perma.cc/N9S7-TW5L] (quoting Marius Smith, head of business development at digital asset custodian Finoa). Those who verify transactions are called “validators,” which is a desirable role because validators who successfully confirm a transaction receive a reward in the blockchain’s native cryptocurrency—a staking reward.7Id. Prospective validators must “stake” some of their own native cryptocurrency (or cryptocurrency that has been “delegated” to them by “stakers”) as a form of collateral to ensure that they will not verify fraudulent transactions. However, should they “improperly validate bad or fraudulent data, they may lose some or all of their stake as a penalty.”8Id. (describing what a “slash” is). Validators receive a fee in the native currency, called “gas,” which they will use to pay staking rewards to the participants who delegated/staked tokens to them.9A Comprehensive Guide on Crypto Staking Taxes, ZenLedger (Mar. 23, 2022), https://www.zenledger.io/blog/crypto-staking-taxes [http://perma.cc/3JCS-SLKT]. Network participants also hope to be selected as validators because they desire to support the good function of the blockchain.10David Rodeck, Crypto Staking Basics, Forbes (Aug. 2, 2022 11:16 AM), https://www.forbes.com/advisor/investing/cryptocurrency/crypto-staking-basics [http://perma.cc/7GA4-4NQA]. This type of “skin in the game” means that the larger a stake, the more likely the network is to deem the person as a provider of trustworthy consensus votes, increasing the chance that the person will be selected as a validator.11Id. This mechanism causes the participants holding only a small amount of native currency to pool their coins or delegate them to a validator (rather than trying to be a validator themselves) and receive staking rewards in return on a pro rata basis, similar in some respects to a partnership.12Id. Tokens received as staking rewards are not distributed from a preexisting fund. Instead, they are actually created through the validation.13K. Peter Ritter & Joshua S. Tompkins, Proof of Stake—What’s Really at Stake on the Tax Front?, 19 J. Tax’n Fin. Prods. 25, 28 (2022) [hereinafter Ritter, Journal Article]. This may lead to novel and unique tax treatment based on ambiguities of asset character or uncertainties in the timing of their receipt or credit.14Napoletano, supra note 6. After an explanation of income, this Note will outline some difficulties in applying traditional timing rules for inclusion of income to staking rewards.

C.  How to Measure Income

Defining what is income is a chronic question in the world of tax law, and for purposes of this Note, it is necessary to understand how to measure and identify income before we can decide if/when such income is “taxable income.” The Haig-Simons definition of income is widely accepted and illustrative of a non-statutory measurement of income: “Personal income may be defined as the algebraic sum of (1) the market value of rights exercised in consumption and (2) the change in the value of the store of property rights between the beginning and end of the period in question.”15Henry C. Simons, Personal Income Taxation: The Definition of Income as a Problem of Fiscal Policy 50 (1938) (modeling income as an individual’s change in wealth). This broad definition of income is constructed to measure a person’s change in wealth (∆W) by comparing the inflow and outflow of their assets. For example, Consumer B has $10 of wages per week, $100 in savings (S), and every week his only consumption (C) is purchasing groceries. To illustrate, assume two scenarios: in scenario 1, he consumes $5 this week (increasing his savings by $5) and in scenario 2, he consumes $15 (decreasing his savings by $5). In both scenarios his income will be the same because he still received $10 of wages. To maintain equivalency of income, the Haig-Simon algebraic sum compensates for the different consumptions by factoring in B’s change in savings (∆S). In scenario 1, B was underbudget, so his change in savings (∆S) was +$5, but in scenario 2, B went overbudget, which required spending $5 of his savings, generating a negative change in savings of -$5. The variables for this income definition are change in wealth (∆W), consumption (C), and change in savings (∆S), which are related as the following equation dictates.

Going forward, the relevant variable for questions of income from staking rewards is the change in savings (∆S) because it is a broader model for income, representing a taxpayer’s purchasing power, rather than just net receipts.16Michael J. Graetz, Deborah H. Schenk & Anne L. Alstott, Federal Income Taxation: Principles and Policies 566–67 (8th ed. 2018) (illustrating that income, especially capital income, should only be recognized from real gain that elevates a taxpayer’s purchasing power).

D.  Unique Tax Nature of Staking Rewards

Two fundamental aspects of measuring income are tax-free recovery of capital and determining when income is sufficiently concrete such that it should be taxed.17Id. at 38–40. Here, “capital” is the amount invested in an asset, the “recovery” of which is not taxed at the asset’s “disposition.”18See James Chen, Disposition: Definition, How It Works in Investing, and Example, Investopedia, https://www.investopedia.com/terms/d/disposition.asp [https://perma.cc/8SAQ-9LYM] (Aug. 22, 2022); see generally I.R.C. § 904(f)(3)(B)(i) (defining “disposition” as “a sale, exchange, distribution, or gift of property”). To note, § 904 is not relevant here. The amount invested in an asset (“basis”) is typically determined to be the amount paid for the asset (“cost basis”).19See I.R.C. § 1012. For example, if Investor X buys Z stock for $100 in year 1, and in year 2 it has a fair market value (“FMV”) of $200, X has then realized $100 in gain (the $200 FMV less the $100 cost basis); however, because Investor X did not sell the asset, that gain is not seen as sufficiently concrete, and she does not recognize any taxable income. If instead our tax system treated X as recognizing her amount realized (that is, even though she had not sold the Z stock), she would owe taxes on the full $100. Additionally, there would be another problem if the system taxed the full FMV of $200. X bought stock Z with “post-tax dollars,” money that had already been taxed when it was first received. Now she is being taxed on that same $100 again, despite such value not reflecting any real gain. Commissioner v. Glenshaw Glass defined the test for recognition of real gain under I.R.C. § 61 as “accessions to wealth, clearly realized, and over which the taxpayers have complete dominion.”20Comm’r v. Glenshaw Glass Co., 348 U.S. 426, 431 (1955) (emphasis added). The previous focus on measurements of ∆S or purchasing power flows from the emphasis that the Glenshaw Glass test puts on accessions to wealth.

1.  New Property

The fundamental reason that the taxation of staking rewards is unclear is because of the meaning of “recognition.” If X had sold the Z stock for dollars, it would be clear (1) that she had realized gain and (2) how to measure amount of gain. However, because she continues to hold Z stock, it is harder to determine if she has experienced an accretion to wealth and how much that accretion is.

Application of our tax system is not always limited to strict statutory interpretation. In such gaps of explicit authority, the spirit of the law assumes that what an unrelated buyer is willing to pay X for an asset is an adequate estimated valuation from which the appropriate tax effect may be calculated. However, applying this question to staking rewards is not as simple as merely determining the market value of the reward because the tokens received are “newly minted”; therefore, there is no purchase or sale, and no third-party source has given up any tokens—even though the number of tokens held by a given person has increased.21Abraham Sutherland, Cryptocurrency Economics and the Taxation of Block Rewards, Part 2, 165 Tax Notes Fed. 953, 962 (2019) [hereinafter Sutherland, Block Rewards Part 2]. That said, determining gain when a taxpayer receives assets without any purchase or sale (and therefore no cost basis) is not wholly uncharted waters in tax law. For example, § 1221(a)(3) of the Code specifically excludes certain “self-created” assets from the definition of capital assets.22I.R.C. § 1221(a)(3). Further, analysis of the relevance of staking rewards being “new property” is explored later as part of the review of staking rewards as capital assets.

2.  Dilutionary Effect

The “dilutionary” characteristic of staking rewards is a result of their status as “created property” and is one of the main factors current cryptocurrency tax guidance fails to address. Recall that staking rewards are distributed because PoS consensus mechanisms provide participants with the opportunity to maintain the network.23See Abraham Sutherland, Cryptocurrency Economics and the Taxation of Block Rewards, 165 Tax Notes Fed. 749, 750 (2019) [hereinafter Sutherland, Block Rewards]. Additionally, because validators increase their frequency of opportunities to maintain the network by pledging more tokens, they are willing to pay staking rewards to participants who pledge tokens roughly proportionate to the size of each pledge.24See id. This is where issues of dilution can arise.

Abraham Sutherland, a professor at the University of Virginia School of Law and legal advisor to the Proof of Stake Alliance, explains that the amount of “true gains and losses” for stakers depends on two variables: the “staking rate” and the “token creation rate.”25Mattia Landoni & Abraham Sutherland, Dilution and True Economic Gain from Cryptocurrency Block Rewards, 168 Tax Notes Fed. 1213, 1215 (2020). The staking rate represents what percent of a network’s total tokens are actively staked, and the token creation rate represents the rate that tokens are created on the network through other means.26See id. at 1213–15 (explaining that tokens may also be created by the incumbent owners of a network outside of the staking process). Describing or creating useful models that account for the token creation rate is beyond the scope of this Note, so the following analyses will assume there is no alternative method of token production, setting the token production rate equal to zero. Sutherland goes on to illustrate that as the staking rate increases, the amount of true economic gain decreases.27See id. (explaining that once the staking rate reaches 100% there is no longer any true economic gain for staking). So, when enough participants on the network receive staking rewards in proportion to their initial holdings, they may hold more tokens, but that will not be indicative of a relative increase to their purchasing power (which is another measurement of “income”). Imagine if tomorrow every person in the world had their net worth doubled; the inevitable parallel result would be that the price of goods and services would also double. That is a simplistic illustration of Sutherland’s models of true economic gain on PoS networks and how applying IRS guidance intended for PoW mining income will result in the overstatement of income.28See id. at 1221.

Understanding dilution’s effect on income is easier through analogy to inflation. For such an analogy, it is helpful to apply a non-statutory definition (such as section 61 of the Code). Recall the Haig-Simons definition of income modeled by equation (1) below.29See Simons, supra note 15.

As explained above, tracking ∆S is necessary to ensure income correlates with purchasing power.30Graetz et al., supra note 16. For example, consider Investor X, who purchases $100 of stock B when the constant, annual rate of inflation is 10%. Inflation in this case, is “a rise in prices, which can be translated as the decline of purchasing power over time.”31Jason Fernando, Inflation: What It Is, How It Can Be Controlled, and Extreme Examples, Investopedia (Dec. 14, 2023), https://www.investopedia.com/terms/i/inflation.asp [http://
perma.cc/8LED-E4GU].
This means that for B’s stock to maintain its same purchasing power it must appreciate at a rate equal to the inflation rate, which would require stock B’s value rise to $110 by year’s end.3210% (rate of return equal to rate of inflation) multiplied by $100 (the principal value of stock B) equals $10 (appreciation of stock). Assume that B’s value does go up by $10. That change in savings would result in $10 of income despite X having no “real” income (“true income” in dilution explanation above) because inflation raised the prices of everything by 10%.33See Fernando, supra note 31. Similarly, if a holder of 100 tokens, representing 1% of total tokens on the network receives 1 token as a staking reward at a time when the quantity of tokens increases by 1%, that holder will continue to hold 1% of all tokens and will not have any more purchasing power. This illustrates how effects of dilution and inflation can be similar. Despite reductions in purchasing power caused by inflationary effects, there is no exception to the requirement that all of a taxpayer’s nominal gains must be included in the year of receipt.34See I.R.C. § 461. Dilution in the cryptocurrency context is similarly insufficient (by itself) to justify an exception from inclusion at receipt. It does, however, indicate a need for a better method of valuing the true economic income of taxpayers.35See Landoni & Sutherland, supra note 25 (detailing three possible methods of modeling and calculating true economic income from staking rewards).

Another real-world analogue is the taxability of stock dividends. A stock dividend is simply a payment from a corporation to its shareholders in the form of additional shares.36James Chen, Stock Dividend: What It Is and How It Works, with Example, Investopedia (June 30, 2023), https://www.investopedia.com/terms/s/stockdividend.asp [https://perma.cc/RW73-GNGS]. Receipt of stock qualifies as an “accession to wealth” under the Glenshaw Glass rule and would typically be includable as section 61 income.37Comm’r v. Glenshaw Glass Co., 348 U.S. 426, 431 (1955); I.R.C. § 61(a). But that was not the case in Eisner v. Macomber, in which a stock dividend was issued to all shareholders in proportion to the number of shares owned.38Eisner v. Macomber, 252 U.S. 189, 203 (1920). The Supreme Court justified the lack of income because of the non-change in positions of the corporation and the shareholders, based on the fact that the corporation’s “property [was] not diminished, and . . . . [t]he proportional interest of each shareholder remain[ed] the same.”39Id. Now partially enshrined by I.R.C. § 305, the lack of change to the shareholders’ position is the more relevant factor than the lack of disposition of property by the corporation.

This stock dividend is similar to dilution, which is why it is cited by some staking advocates. There are, however, two differences between the dilution effects and the stock dividends in Macomber. First, the distribution was pro rata, exactly proportional to the recipients’ holdings, and second, the distributed shares had a definite “source”: the corporation.40See id.

First, staking rewards were only distributed exactly pro rata in the above hypothetical where the staking rate was 100% and every participant either received rewards for maintaining the network as a validator or delegated their tokens to a validator and received a pro rata share of that validator’s income. The Court in Macomber leaned heavily on the fact that the distribution was pro rata to show that the shareholder’s “interests [were] not increased.”41See id. at 203; see also id. at 216 (citing other cases supporting the holding because the distribution was pro rata). The Court doubled down on the pro rata requirement for a stock dividend to be excluded from income in Koshland v. Helvering, in which the Court determined a stock dividend that “gives the stockholder an interest different from that which his former stock holding represented” is includable as income.42Koshland v. Helvering, 298 U.S. 441, 446 (1936).

For the second issue, tax law generally does not always know what to do with an ambiguity, such as a lack of source, because it makes it harder to confirm that the tax consequences adequately follow the economic reality of a transaction.43See Macomber, 252 U.S. at 203. Here, without a source like a donor or seller, there is nobody whose situation can be compared with the recipient. By confirming that the corporation’s “property [was] not diminished,” the Court illustrated that the corporation did not give up anything and reinforced the reasoning that a taxable event did not occur.44See id.

Proponents of preferential tax treatment for staking rewards point to the lack of source to support arguments varying from categorizing staking rewards as found property, created property, or even property entirely outside the scope of our tax system.45See Sutherland, Block Rewards Part 2, supra note 21, at 960 (discussing a range of potential classifications of staking rewards ranging from found property to self-created property). Conversely, opponents to preferential treatment for staking rewards point to the lack of source as an example of an ambiguity beyond the scope of reasonable speculation; the New York State Bar Association (“NYSBA”) even drafted a report requesting clear guidance to determine the source of the staking rewards.46N.Y. State Bar Ass’n Tax Section, Report on Cryptocurrency and Other Fungible Digital Assets 9 (2022), https://nysba.org/app/uploads/2022/04/1461-Report-on-Cryptocurrency-and-Other-Fungible-Digital-Assets.pdf [https://perma.cc/37JP-XZDL] (“The government should provide clear guidance regarding the source of any staking rewards includable in gross income . . . .”).

Regarding staking income, the fact that the holder received additional tokens may not be determinative. In Macomber, the shareholder received additional stock from a “distribution,” which the Court qualified as essentially a stock split (a stock split is done by “splitting” outstanding shares that are in the hands of shareholders, which increases the stock issued while lowering the stock price in proportion to the number of shares into which each share was split).47See Adam Hayes, What a Stock Split Is and How It Works, with an Example, Investopedia (Oct. 31, 2023), https://www.investopedia.com/terms/s/stocksplit.asp [http://perma.cc/AY9Q-GVNC]. Stock splits are analogous to staking rewards because neither have a source. Additionally, per I.R.C. § 305 (which partially codified Macomber), stock splits are not includable as income.48I.R.C. § 305(b)(4). But for the difference that a stock split is virtually always exactly pro rata, Macomber and I.R.C. § 305 support the argument that staking rewards should not be included in taxable income at receipt.

3.  Lack of Explicit Guidance

In 2014, the IRS issued IRB Notice 2014-21 (the “2014 Notice”), and, despite such Notices not being law or even binding authority,49“IRS notices . . . do not constitute legal authority.” Stobie Creek Invs. v. United States, 82 Fed. Cl. 636, 671 (2008), aff’d, 608 F.3d 1366 (Fed. Cir. 2010). it remains one of the most informative pieces of guidance on taxing cryptocurrency, due in part to the scarcity of any guidance at all.50I.R.S. Notice 2014-21, 2014-16 I.R.B. 938. The 2014 Notice determined that income from cryptocurrency “mining” was taxable; its applicability to the newer PoS and staking consensus mechanisms, however, is disputed.51See Sutherland, Block Rewards, supra note 23, at 751 (arguing that the 2014 Notice was released primarily with Bitcoin in mind, which uses a Proof of Work consensus mechanism). While some tax professionals believe that the differences between mining and staking are insignificant and assume the reasoning applied by the IRS to mining should also apply to staking, the IRS itself showed that it was not prepared to make that assumption in/after Jarrett v. United States, after successfully having the case dismissed as moot (such dismissal was affirmed on appeal this past July).52Jarrett v. United States, No. 21-CV-00419, 2022 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 178743, at *13–14 (M.D. Tenn. Sept. 30, 2022); see also Jarrett v. United States, 79 F.4th 675 (6th Cir. 2023).

In Jarrett, taxpayers sued the IRS seeking a refund for taxes paid on staking rewards.53Nikhilesh De & Cheyenne Ligon, US Tax Agency Moves to Dismiss Lawsuit by Tezos Stakers Who Refused Refund, Demanded Trial, CoinDesk ] (May 11, 2023, 10:06 AM), https://
http://www.coindesk.com/policy/2022/03/03/us-tax-agency-moves-to-dismiss-lawsuit-by-tezos-stakers-who-refused-refund-demanded-trial [https://perma.cc/CV56-FDFL].
Not willing to offer a decisive ruling, the IRS decided to simply refund the taxes paid, and when the Jarretts declined the refund seeking a legal determination by forcing a case in federal court, the IRS (successfully) moved for dismissal for lack of subject-matter jurisdiction.54Brief in Support of Taxpayer Joshua Jarrett’s 1040-X Amended Return and Claim for Refund at 2, Jarrett v. United States, No. 21-CV-00419 (M.D. Tenn. Sept. 30, 2022). There are many possible reasons for the IRS’s refusal to provide clear guidance here; perhaps the IRS thought that an informed ruling was not yet possible because staking is too new, or the IRS could see material differences between mining and staking (mining requires computational “work” to receive mined tokens, which could liken it more to traditional income producing activities, while staking rewards are paid to holders who passively delegate their tokens to validators). This indeterminacy has split members of the tax and crypto community into two groups who disagree on the appropriate method of taxing staking rewards. The first group’s position, supported by the NYSBA, is that staking rewards should be immediately included as income.55N.Y. State Bar Ass’n Tax Section, supra note 46. The second group’s position, supported by groups like the Proof of Stake Alliance, is that taxes on staking rewards should be deferred until the disposition of the tokens.56See Abraham Sutherland, Proof of Stake Alliance, Tax Treatment of Block Rewards: A Primer 8 (2020) [hereinafter Sutherland, Primer], https://ssrn.com/abstract=3780102 [https://perma.cc/2V72-8B9R]. The arguments of each of these groups are analyzed in Sections II.B and II.C.

II.  WHAT HAS NOT YET BEEN DETERMINED

For PoS mechanisms, the two main questions regarding staking rewards are: (1) Character: What kind of income is it? and (2) Timing: When should it be taxed? The character analysis in this Note is only concerned with the effect capital asset status would have on the timing of inclusion in income.

A.  Character: What Makes it Capital?

One of the main factors in determining the taxes one owes is determined by the “character” of the underlying asset/transaction that resulted in gain or loss of income. Generally, the character of gains and losses is either “ordinary” or “capital.” Capital gains/losses result from transactions in assets that were or are held for investment, with most other income being ordinary.57Topic No. 409 Capital Gains and Losses, I.R.S., https://www.irs.gov/taxtopics/tc409 [https://perma.cc/QH8N-J69J]. While asset character can be nuanced, the factors used to determine whether an asset is capital should be the same for digital assets and traditional assets.

Courts and the IRS have been resolving character determinations of digital currencies since well before the inception of blockchains and cryptocurrencies. The main example is litigation on the taxability of “miles” provided by airlines. In Charley v. Commissioner, the Ninth Circuit approved a tax deficiency assessed against a taxpayer due to his failure to report his receipt of airline miles as income. 58Charley v. Comm’r, 91 F.3d 72, 74 (9th Cir. 1996). In this case, the court declined to comment on whether, “in the abstract” the receipt of airline credits was income, but the court did hold that here there was taxable income (that is, not capital gain) upon their redemption because the taxpayer (1) received the credits from his employer through his job, and (2) converted them to cash.59Id. However, six years later, the IRS provided an announcement that taxpayers who fail to report frequent flyer miles received through their business would not be pursued for a deficiency.60I.R.S. Announcement 2002-18, 2002-10 C.B. 621 (Mar. 11, 2002). This case and announcement illustrate the IRS’s familiarity with digital assets and its acknowledgment that determining the tax treatment of receiving digital assets is complicated. Unfortunately, it does not provide much guidance for staking rewards.

Whether an asset is capital or ordinary depends on multiple factors, like its intrinsic qualities, the nature of its use, and how it was acquired, among other factors.61I.R.C. §§ 1221, 1231. In the case of staking rewards, tax experts are unable to agree on a statutory determination under those factors for the character of staking rewards. Therefore, this Note first will look through a policy lens to assess whether staking rewards align with the justifications for preferential tax treatment of capital assets in the first place.

1.  Policy Supporting Preferential Treatment Applied to Staking Rewards

When determining the character of new classes of assets, people seem to jump straight to the statutory analysis despite the lack of precedent for how courts and the IRS will apply the Code to that new class of assets. Here, the IRS is in fact likely waiting to assess the character of these assets to determine where the Code may be applicable and where it may require an update to accommodate the crypto sphere. Before analyzing the statutory application or inferring how new statutory language may mimic existing code, a step back to the policy level should be taken. This is important because in the past, the IRS has denied valid textual applications of the Code in favor of interpretations that it believed better carried out the intent of Congress.62See, e.g., Ark. Best Corp. v. Comm’r, 485 U.S. 212, 219–21 (1988) (explaining why the “semantically” correct interpretation by the petitioner of § 1221 was not what they would rule); see also Corn Prods. Refin. Co. v. Comm’r, 350 U.S. 46, 52 (1955). Generally, arguments in favor of preferential treatment of capital assets are grouped under “lock-in effect,” liquidity, bunching, inflation, double taxation, and investment incentives.63Graetz et al., supra note 16, at 566–70 (defining these terms but also including arguments beyond the scope of this Note, such as questioning whether capital income even constitutes income in the first place).

Crypto investments are subject to the lock-in effect, which is where a holder avoids selling an asset that has appreciated in value because the holder will recognize taxes on the realized gain at the time of disposition, sale, or exchange. This externality is a transaction cost, which may cause the asset to be held when it otherwise would have been disposed of, absent the imposed taxation. Taxing cryptocurrencies such that transactions that otherwise would have occurred are prevented reduces market efficiency by slowing the flow of assets to the holder who most values that asset. The lock-in effect is especially prevalent for assets (such as crypto) which taxpayers may hold longer than they would have absent tax incentives (such as stepped-up-basis, which allows the elimination of gains in appreciated property inherited from a decedent).64Edward J. McCaffery, The Oxford Introductions to U.S. Law: Income Tax Law 12–15 (Dennis Patterson ed., 2012); I.R.C. § 1014.

A justification for preferential treatment related to lock-in is the liquidity problem. A reduction in liquidity impairs the mobility of capital.65Graetz et al., supra note 16, at 570. Liquidity is reduced when taxpayers realize gains on assets in excess of their income from other sources. For example, X has an income of $10,000 per year, and her most valuable asset is her house and the land it sits on, which are capital assets valued at $10,000. Absent preferential treatment for capital gains, if tomorrow some market force causes the fair market value of her home to jump to $100,000, she would owe taxes on $90,000 of appreciation. This would be consistent with the goal of tax law to track “accessions to wealth;” however, forcing taxpayers like X to satisfy her tax obligation by selling her home runs against the “efficiency” goals our tax system.66Id. at 29 (explaining that a tax, which changes peoples’ behavior in “bad” ways, is an efficiency cost). This treatment applies to assets like stock and securities too, and those same reasons also apply to crypto holdings.

“Bunching” is the recognition of lump sum gains all at once, which is the analogue to the lock-in effect. It results from the fact that we generally do not measure taxable gain “mark-to-market” (as value accrues), but rather only when the asset is sold. This means that gains accrued over many years may end up being recognized in a single year. In our progressive tax system, lower tax rates are applied to a taxpayer’s income up to a certain “bracket” threshold, after which a higher rate is applicable to each subsequent dollar earned. If instead, the gain was spread over a taxpayer’s holding period, they would normally enjoy the benefits of “running through the brackets” by having their first dollars earned each year enjoy the lower tax rates of the lower brackets. However, for a one time “lump” gain, the brackets are only “run through” once, and the excess gain is all taxed at the taxpayer’s marginal rate. The typical critique of this policy rationale is that bunching may not matter for most taxpayers, who already “run through the brackets” each year from other income. However, there is insufficient data on the average wealth of crypto investors, and accordingly, it is unclear if there is a need to counteract the bunching effect. Data is lacking because a feature of blockchains is the protection of anonymity. This illustrates potential support for delaying determinations about asset character until the IRS and Congress have sufficient information to inform their legislation.

Inflation (which this Note acknowledges above in Section I.D.2, does not warrant other tax benefits such as deferred reporting) is a concern for investment income across the board (regardless of whether measured in crypto or government legal tender—“fiat”). Taxes are supposed to correlate with “accessions to wealth” experienced by taxpayers. During times of inflation, an investor may see the nominal value of her assets rise, but not any faster than the costs of other goods did. This lack of “real economic gain” is why our tax system attempts to (partially) correct for taxing income that does not represent an accession to wealth. The two main ways our tax system addresses these issues are (1) by correlating (“indexing”) tax brackets to inflation67I.R.C. § 1(f)(3); I.R.S Rev. Proc. 2021-45, 2021-48 I.R.B. 764. and (2) by allowing preferential treatment on gains prone to reflect inflation. Crypto investments can face inflation just like fiat investments, and it is a particularly tricky question to answer for staking income. As mentioned above in Section I.B, PoS consensus mechanisms impose “gas” fees (paid in additional native coins) to process the validation. Depending on the cost of the gas relative to the staking reward, some exchanges may be more inflationary, and others may even be deflationary. If staking rewards cause inflation in their markets, that may further suggest that their nature warrants preferential tax treatment because they are prone to growth without an accession to wealth.68Note that inflation caused by gas fees is a separate but similar issue to dilution described above.

One of the most established reasons given in support of preferential treatment for capital assets is that it incentivizes investment, which in turn promotes economic development. While there is still some skepticism on the merit of cryptocurrencies, taxes should not control investment in this sphere. An “efficient” tax system is not supposed to excessively alter the behavior of taxpayers or harm the good function of our free market.69Graetz et al., supra note 16, at 29. Accordingly, tax incentives to invest in cryptocurrencies may be justifiable if there are substantial benefits derived from the development of cryptocurrencies, blockchain technologies like “web3,”70The Investopedia Team, Web 3.0 Explained, Plus the History of Web 1.0 and 2.0, Investopedia (Oct. 18, 2023), https://www.investopedia.com/web-20-web-30-5208698 [https://
perma.cc/35VS-CKKM] (defining Web 3.0).
or other future applications. It is in that way that investment in this sector is akin to traditional investing. Evidence of Congress’s concern that the potential benefits of capital asset treatment for cryptocurrencies could be lost by improper regulation is shown in a letter from members of Congress to Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen.

Digital assets could be impactful technological developments in certain sectors, and clear guidelines on tax reporting requirements will be important to those in this ecosystem. It will be important that we continue to work to provide further clarity, and to help ensure that the United States remains a global leader in financial innovation and development, while ensuring that this technology does not become a vector for illicit finance, tax evasion, or other criminal activity.71Letter from Rob Portman, Mark R. Warner, Mike Crapo, Kyrsten Sinema, Pat Toomey & Cynthia M. Lummis, Sens., to Janet Yellen, Sec’y, U.S. Dep’t of the Treasury (Dec. 14, 2021), https://www.warner.senate.gov/public/_cache/files/9/a/9a6b3638-1a81-4b70-80a3-98f239c34c3b/94715
01FAEB0E61BD2E5C1A5D11EC799.12.14.21-yellen-cryptocurrency-letter—final.pdf [https://perma.
cc/VAA5-HLN4].

Ultimately, taxes are imposed to sustain the federal government’s budget. The Treasury would obviously like to have as large a fund as it needs; however, increasing the government’s tax revenue is not as simple as raising taxes on taxpayers. At a certain point, excessive taxes will result in reasonable taxpayers opting to engage in different activities because the tax burden of the activity will have exceeded the benefit of that activity. To illustrate this kind of “tax elasticity,” imagine two taxpayers, A and B. A lives in State Y and B lives in State Z, but otherwise, they are identical, working the same job, and paying 30% of their income in taxes. If tomorrow, State Z decides to raise the tax rate for B’s profession by 60%, a likely result would be that B would decide to move to State Y, where she may enjoy the better tax treatment that A has.

In this (exceptionally oversimplified) hypothetical, State Z raised taxes to pad its budget, but instead, it lost a source of taxable income by causing B to move to Y (think Cayman Islands). This concept is illustrated by economist Dr. Arthur Laffer’s “revenue maximizing rate,” which is the theoretical ideal rate of taxation to apply that will be as large as possible, without being so excessive that whatever action the tax is targeting begins to be avoided by taxpayers.72See Lisa Smith, How the Ideal Tax Rate Is Determined: The Laffer Curve, Investopedia (Jan. 21, 2024), https://www.investopedia.com/articles/08/laffer-curve.asp [https://perma.cc/4TWT-WDBF]. Economists and tax professionals argue over what rate for capital gains would maximize revenue. However, there is a consensus that at some point, a marginal increase in tax rates will not raise the tax revenue to the Treasury. The key for taxing cryptocurrency, then, is to find that point.

Cryptocurrency investment has seen expansive growth and adoption, with many sources, including Coinbase, creating expectations among purveyors, without clear factual support, that growth to their assets will qualify as capital gains.73Coinbase, Understanding Crypto Taxes, Coinbase, https://www.coinbase.com/learn/crypto-basics/understanding-crypto-taxes [https://perma.cc/W36N-FV3D]. Perhaps a factor in causing this: 75% of Americans who invested in cryptocurrency indicated that they invested in cryptocurrency because they think “it is a good way to make money.”74Michelle Faverio & Navid Massarat, 46% of Americans Who Have Invested in Cryptocurrency Say It’s Done Worse than Expected, Pew Rsch. Ctr. (Aug. 23, 2022), https://www.pewresearch.org/
fact-tank/2022/08/23/46-of-americans-who-have-invested-in-cryptocurrency-say-its-done-worse-than-expected [https://perma.cc/9BUG-WDE7].
If so, many people are choosing to invest based on expectations on their return, and such purveyors may be very sensitive to tax burdens reducing their returns on investment. So, explicit removal of preferential treatment, even only in part, may result in an outsized withdrawal from the crypto sphere.

While typically an argument in favor of giving preferential treatment to certain capital gains, “double taxation” does not support such treatment for staking rewards. Double taxation occurs in the corporate setting. Companies are taxed on their profits, and then may distribute a portion of those profits to shareholders as “capital outlays” (like stock or dividends). These capital outlays are then included as taxable income for the shareholders. Because the “same” income is taxed twice, here, some argue that shareholders/corporations should enjoy a lower tax rate on their receipts. Staking rewards are not taxed prior to the receipt of the validator, however, because they are not derived from a corporation’s profits. In short, one of the reasons relied on to justify preferential treatment for capital gains on financial instruments, such as stock, is not applicable to staking rewards. However, as is the case for other capital gains (such as dispositions of real property), double taxation is not a requirement to receive capital gain preferential treatment.

2.  Statutory Determination of Capital Assets: Quality, Use, and Receipt

The following high-level statutory analysis is only intended to provide context for the inclusion of income analysis. The fundamental statutory authority on the matter is I.R.C. § 1221, with most character determinations starting or ending in § 1221(a), which lists assets that would otherwise be capital assets (“§ 1221 exceptions”).75I.R.C. § 1221. The main § 1221 exception that might apply to staking income is § 1221(a)(3), which covers self-created property (generally, self-created property is not taxed until it is sold, but at that point, it is taxed as ordinary income—with certain exceptions).76Id.; Ritter, Journal Article, supra note 13, at 33. Despite validators “making” rewards, some staking advocates argue that like the comparison to “new property,” this analogy is not applicable to the Code, which excludes from capital asset status any “patent, invention, model or design (whether or not patented), a secret formula or process, a copyright, . . . or similar property” held by “a taxpayer whose personal efforts created such property.”77I.R.C. § 1221(a)(3). The argument that the § 1221(a)(3) exception does not apply relies on the conclusion that staking rewards do not qualify as any of the explicitly listed property, nor would it qualify as “similar.”78Ritter, Journal Article, supra note 13, at 33. However, note that digital assets are pieces of “cryptography,” which can be imagined as a unique serial number, which at the very least one could argue is “similar property” to Intellectual Property such as a copyright. Arguments like these are beyond the scope of this Note but can be seen in the work cited here. The self-created property argument often analogizes a farmer’s crop or a mineral miner’s ore.79See, e.g., Sutherland, Primer, supra note 56, at 14–15. While these arguments can be pursued under a capital asset determination, this Note will not try to resolve disputes that tax experts have so far failed to resolve. Instead, this Note will revisit these arguments80See infra Section II.D.1 to illustrate the different methods for tax accounting as that question is more aligned with the timing of inclusion for staking rewards.

B.  Timing: When Is it Income?

Tax planning is a timing game of “pulling” benefits (like accelerating loss recognition) and “pushing” burdens (conversely, deferring gain recognition).81Graetz et al., supra note 16, at 313 (“The ability to accelerate deductions, and thereby defer tax, is of major advantage to taxpayers.”). This shifting of tax benefits and burdens can yield great value to a taxpayer, which is why taxpayers and the Treasury are so keen to determine when taxable gain/loss is recognized. Due to the time value of money, taxpayers derive benefit from pushing/deferring tax burdens, essentially getting the equivalent of an interest-free loan from the government.82Id. Reciprocally, deferrals taken by taxpayers reduce the government’s tax revenue, and such “tax expenditures” by the Treasury can sum to substantial burdens in funding the government.83Id. at 659. The Treasury seeks timely and consistent payment of taxes to maintain its budget, which is why the Treasury may not want to grant tax-timing benefits like permitting stakers to defer inclusion of their income (that is, until they sell the newly received tokens).84Id. at 42. This is further developed below in the context of tax accounting methods. Notwithstanding the time value of tax deferral, timing considerations (when a receipt should be taxed) are also important to ensure that taxes owed correlate to the taxpayer’s “ability to pay,” which is one of the main characteristics of a just tax.85Id. at 33.

Tax accounting is the method used by taxpayers to determine when receipts should be included for the purpose of “clearly reflect[ing] income.”86I.R.C. §§ 451, 446(b). The two main methods of accounting for income are the “cash method,” which includes income at receipt, and the “accrual method,” which includes income at the time it was earned.87Graetz et al., supra note 16, at 704, 720. Deference is given to taxpayers to select their method of tax accounting.88I.R.C. §§ 451, 461. Accordingly, most analyses of staking income apply the cash method, rather than the accrual method, because stakers have an easier time arguing the doctrine of constructive receipt than arguing that they never even nominally received the actual reward when new tokens were actually credited to their wallet.89Treas. Reg. §§ 1.61-14(a), 1.446-1(c)(1) (specifying that found property (“treasure trove”) income like that of cash found in a piano is includable in gross income in the taxable year in which it was reduced to undisputed possession).

The constructive receipt doctrine is used by stakers to argue that the amount received is an overstatement of their true economic income. Additionally, there may be grounds for a reduction in the amount of includable income based on the “cash equivalence doctrine,” which was added as a factor for determining constructive receipt. Constructive receipt is relevant because it requires an actual receipt of property or the right to receive property in the future.90Graetz et al., supra note 16, at 712. Recall that cryptocurrencies were deemed to be “property” for tax purposes under the 2014 Notice. When receipts, like staking rewards, lack sufficient determinacy as to what the “cash equivalent” is, an additional test may be applied to assess the kind of “economic benefit” received.91Id. at 709. Economic benefit can be a source of debate because “[a]lthough the courts are uniform in holding that a ‘cash equivalent’ is taxable on receipt, there is disagreement as to what types of property interests are cash equivalents.”92Id. So, a takeaway from this source of debate is that even though there may not be satisfactory legislation to inform stakers on when to include income, there are policy arguments that staking income should not be taxed on receipt. On the other hand, the failure of these accounting doctrines to produce a clear answer of when staking income must be included has supported arguments that immediate taxation is appropriate (such as the NYSBA’s suggestion that we should apply imperfect guidance like the 2014 Notice to staking income, even though staking income was not considered by the Notice at its time of announcement).93N.Y. State Bar Ass’n Tax Section, supra note 46, at 45.

An investment vehicle similarly subject to a timing of receipt analysis is the taxation of Simple Agreements for Future Equity (“SAFEs”).94Lesley P. Adamo, Tax Treatment of SAFEs, Lowenstein Sandler (Jul. 12, 2018), https://www.lowenstein.com/news-insights/publications/client-alerts/tax-treatment-of-safes-tax [https://
perma.cc/24XL-62SM].
SAFEs are relevant because they are investment mechanisms promising to return some amount of stock to be determined at a future triggering event.95Id. The IRS has ruled that SAFEs, which do not specify a “substantially fixed amount of property” are not “forward contract[s]” and therefore do not satisfy the requirements of a constructive sale, nor is their conversion into preferred stock a taxable event.96Rev. Rul. 2003-7, 2003-1 C.B. 363; see also I.R.C. §§ 1001, 1259. Simply put, SAFEs are an example of how the IRS and the Code have previously distinguished actual receipt of rights to property from constructive receipt of value.

C.  Taxable at Time of Receipt

The IRS could resolve this issue by ruling that staking rewards will be treated the same way as mining rewards, taxing the rewards as gain at the time of receipt. This resolution would be easy to manage for the government and is justifiable because staking rewards appear to be income because the taxpayer actually received additional tokens. This is the position of the NYSBA, which argued in a 2022 report that there is not a significant difference between staking rewards and mining rewards (which the IRS has said is includable as gross income at receipt).97N.Y. State Bar Ass’n Tax Section, supra note 46, at 45. However, the NYSBA did acknowledge that this is an area lacking regulation and that “[t]he government should provide specific guidance clarifying that staking rewards should be includable as gross income when received at their fair market value at such time.”98Id. at 9.

1.  Support for Taxation at Receipt

Taxation upon receipt would simplify the issue by bifurcating the timing and character determinations. Taxing the rewards at receipt may further simplify the determination of tax liability because without satisfaction of the § 1222 one-year holding period requirement, the gain would be taxed at ordinary rates whether or not the asset is a capital asset.99I.R.C. § 1222. (Per this code section, a taxpayer may only enjoy capital gain treatment if the duration that the asset was held by the taxpayer exceeds one year, regardless of the assets character otherwise.) There may be a future need to determine the character for a later disposition, but having already been taxed at receipt, the issue of basis determination will presumably have been resolved—allowing the established rules of capital asset character determination to apply.100I.R.C. §§ 1221, 1222. Lastly, this may be a palatable answer if legislators or the IRS are worried about tax evasion. The realization requirement is one of the greatest tax planning tools and by ruling that realization of income from staking rewards occurs immediately, the staker/validator would have no ability to manipulate the timing of tax liabilities to her benefit.101Graetz et al., supra note 16, at 149 (describing the function, utility, and limits on the realization requirement); see also 26 CFR § 1.1001-1. This plan also helps the Treasury by providing tax revenues earlier, which is the preference of the government because of the time value of money.

D.  Taxable at Time of Disposition

A key difference between crypto exchanges and fiat exchanges is that the market never “closes” for crypto currencies. Knowing the prices of stocks at the moment of receipt can be important for determining a purchaser’s cost basis, and that is possible because they are listed on nationally regulated exchanges.102I.R.C § 1012. This may seem unimportant because cost basis (in the most basic case) is set at the amount an investor paid for the asset. However, while that is the most familiar scenario for assets on a secondary market like the New York Stock Exchange or NASDAQ, staking rewards (like stock dividends) are different because they are comprised of freshly “minted” coins, which were actually created by the staking process.103See supra Sections I.D, II.A. Lacking a bona fide sale or purchase, our tax system must apply some other way to assess the reward’s fair market value, potentially even by deferring taxation until there is a disposition that makes the value clear. This raises logistical questions like whether an asset’s value should be some average of each crypto exchange’s sale price measured at the precise instant of sale. Assuming stakers would even be able to determine and track such information across hundreds of transactions, what kind of administrative practicality could the IRS hope to enforce in an audit? The speculative nature of a solution like exchange price averaging shows the lack of clear solutions without a better understanding of the scope of the problem at hand.

1.  Support for Taxation at Disposition

Immediate taxation of staking rewards generally benefits the government at the expense of taxpayers and the crypto industry. There are three main issues with this approach: (1) liquidity of taxpayers, (2) difficulty in valuation resulting in overstatement of income, and (3) the magnitude of the burden imposed by guidance.

First, the liquidity issue (defined above in Section II.A.1) is particularly problematic. Even if the IRS rules that staking rewards are recognized immediately, the taxpayer will not be able to use that income to satisfy her tax liability (because she cannot pay taxes with the cryptocurrency received). So, absent alternative income, she will not have the liquidity to pay her tax liability without selling her staked rewards immediately upon receipt.104Sutherland, Block Rewards Part 2, supra note 21, at 964 (“When the law is otherwise silent on the matter, creators of property are unlikely to think they’ve got income until they’ve converted the property to cash or something else of value.”). The illustrative example of this problem is a farmer’s crop harvest.105Id. at 965. In Schniers v. Commissioner, a cash basis farmer was found to have neither actually, nor constructively, received income until the sale of his raised cotton crop.106Schniers v. Comm’r, 69 T.C. 511, 516 (1977). The tax court stated, in relevant part:

The point is that income is not realized by a cash basis farmer from merely harvesting his crops. He realizes income only when he actually or constructively receives income from the sale of those crops. He is not required to sell the crops in the year in which he harvests them. He may decide not to sell them until the following year.107Id. at 517–18.

However, proponents of immediate taxation compare staking rewards to Cesarini v. United States, in which the plaintiffs were deemed to have recognized income of cash found in a piano after they purchased it.108Cesarini v. United States, 296 F. Supp. 3, 5 (N.D. Ohio 1969) (“[I]ncome from all sources is taxed unless the taxpayer can point to an express exemption.”). The flaw in this comparison is that the property creating income was actual cash, and while the court in Cesarini properly applied Regulation § 1.61-14, subsection (a) of that regulation stipulates that income from found property is includable “to the extent of its value in United States currency.”109Treas. Reg. § 1.61-14(a) (specifying that found property (“treasure trove”) income like that of cash found in a piano is includable in gross income in the taxable year in which it was reduced to undisputed possession). And while staking rewards are not really “found property” to begin with, the importance of being able to determine an equivalent value in U.S. dollars creates a second problem with respect to immediate taxation of staking rewards: valuation difficulties.

The second issue, valuation, is driven by three factors. First, crypto exchanges are volatile and do not have closing prices. Second, there are dilutionary effects of the distribution of staking rewards (discussed above in Section I.D.2); and third, there is an excessive burden for taxpayers to document their rewards. Such difficulties illustrate a shortcoming of the NYSBA’s position that “staking rewards should be includable as gross income when received at their fair market value at such time.”110N.Y. State Bar Ass’n Tax Section, supra note 46, at 9 (emphasis added). Here, their suggestion takes for granted that the IRS can overcome the difficulty of determining fair market value in the first place. Additionally, there is no account for which of the multiple crypto exchanges (which often have different prices, unlike regulated stock markets) should be consulted for value determination, nor have they proposed a way to measure FMV factoring in dilution.111See OECD Paris, Taxing Virtual Currencies: An Overview of Tax Treatments and Emerging Tax Policy Issues 51–52, 55 (2020), https://www.oecd.org/tax/tax-policy/taxing-virtual-currencies-an-overview-of-tax-treatments-and-emerging-tax-policy-issues.pdf [https://perma.cc/PMC3-6X59].

Finally, the third factor is one that should be carefully considered before presenting guidance on staking rewards. In assessing burdens, the IRS will want to consider the magnitude of that guidance’s impact, which is directly related to the number of taxpayers or size of industry that will be affected. For example, the IRS should be cautious of yielding to groups like the NYSBA, which argue that processes like mining and staking are so similar that mining guidance (like the 2014 Notice) also covers new forms of crypto income like staking rewards.112See N.Y. State Bar Ass’n Tax Section, supra note 46, at 45. The NYSBA’s argument fails to account for the difference in magnitude of effect that would result from regulating mining and staking identically—the 2014 Notice affects so few taxpayers because miners make up a small percentage of PoW network participants.113Sutherland, Primer, supra note 56, at 8 (affecting more taxpayers). By contrast, the effect of applying this guidance to PoS networks, such as Tezos (the underlying asset in Jarrett), would have a much higher magnitude because around 70% of network participants actively stake, and would therefore be affected.114Landoni & Sutherland, supra note 25. This would compound the harm done by potentially imperfect legislation because it would be unjust to more taxpayers, possibly to the extent that the imposed compliance burden pushes people away from PoS networks.115See Sutherland, Block Rewards, supra note 23, at 750–51. This raises three issues: compliance by stakers, administration by the IRS, and efficiency of the tax altogether.116Id. at 751–52; Graetz et al., supra note 16, at 29 (promoting efficiency in the tax system). Sutherland uses the Jarrett case to illustrate the excessive burdens of compliance and administration if stakers were required to follow the 2014 Notice.117Brief in Support of Taxpayer Joshua Jarrett, supra note 54, at 4; see also Sutherland, Block Rewards, supra note 23, at 755. Sutherland asserts that due to the frequency that staking rewards are distributed, even small stakers could have around 125 annual taxable events, each of which would need to be recorded for basis reporting purposes.118Sutherland, Block Rewards, supra note 23, at 755 He goes on to point out that administration would be practically infeasible too, as the IRS would need to pull excessive amounts of data to audit a staker.119Id.; see also OECD Paris, supra note 111, at 55.

III.  IRS RESPONSE

Tax law is typically seen as a discipline of well-defined and mechanical rules,120See Adam I. Muchmore, Uncertainty, Complexity, and Regulatory Design, 53 Hous. L. Rev. 1321, 1355 (2016); John A. Miller, Indeterminacy, Complexity, and Fairness: Justifying Rule Simplification in the Law of Taxation, 68 Wash. L. Rev. 1, 2–3 (1993). which is why the uncertainties of the application of the Code and the IRS’s legislative intent has generated confusion. Jarrett has become the (non)landmark case for exactly this type of uncertainty with respect to staking income.121Jarrett v. United States, No. 21-CV-00419, 2022 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 178743, at *13–14 (M.D. Tenn. Sept. 30, 2022), aff’d, 79 F.4th 675 (6th Cir. 2023).

A.  Governance So Far

The guidance provided prior to the recent Revenue Ruling was limited to the 2014 Notice,122I.R.S. Notice 2014-21, 2014-16 I.R.B. 938. Revenue Ruling 2019-24 (with an accompanying FAQ) (“Rev. Rul. 2019”),123Rev. Rul. 2019-24, 2019-44 I.R.B. 1004, https://www.irs.gov/pub/irs-drop/rr-19-24.pdf [https://perma.cc/6HCH-6ZNA]. and expansion of I.R.C. § 6045.124I.R.C. § 6045; see also Ritter, KPMG Article, supra note 5 (detailing the expansion of § 6045 under the Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act). These three pieces of guidance (hereinafter, the “Big Three”) do not make any mention of staking rewards or PoS networks, and only Revenue Ruling 2019-24 and § 6045 have the force of law.125Julia Kagan, Revenue Ruling, Investopedia (June 30, 2023), https://www.investopedia.

com/terms/r/revenue-ruling.asp [https://perma.cc/SBM7-4FY9].
The review of gaps in guidance below is not exhaustive and is intended to illustrate the types of issues caused by inadequate guidance.

1.  Ambiguities and Gaps in Guidance

In addition to not accounting for the implications of newer technology like PoS and staking rewards, much of the Big Three contains gaps and ambiguities resulting in variable interpretations. Section 6045 is particularly illustrative of this issue. This section’s recent updates (effective as of the start of 2024) primarily relate to the regulation of “digital assets” as securities and focus on transactions conducted by “brokers.”126I.R.C. § 6045. The characterization of cryptocurrencies as securities is beyond the scope of this Note (and regardless, determination of a crypto currency as a security by the IRS is mostly independent from similar determinations by the SEC). However, § 6045 is still referenced by tax analyses.127See N.Y. State Bar Ass’n Tax Section, supra note 46, at 5–6 (relying on the definition of “digital assets” under § 6045(g)(3)(D) to provide a definition for cryptocurrency). Section 6045(g)(3)(D) defines a digital asset as “any digital representation of value which is recorded on a cryptographically secured distributed ledger or any similar technology as specified by the Secretary.”128I.R.C. § 6045(g)(3)(D). Without any distinction of the consensus mechanism, token type, or validation method, it is likely that this definition of “digital asset” was drafted with the intent of bringing cryptocurrencies under the applicable securities regulations, not to inform appropriate methods of taxation in general. Section 6045(c)(1)(D) was also expanded to include as “brokers,” those responsible for “effectuating transfers of digital assets on behalf of another person.”129Id. § 6045(c)(1)(D). This section defines brokers in order to require them to report cost basis of exchanged digital assets.130Id. § 6045. Some tax professionals are concerned with this requirement because the textual definition of a broker may now include miners and stakers if their activities were considered as “effectuating transfers of digital assets.”131Ritter, KPMG Article, supra note 5. In response to these concerns, Congress attempted to pass two poorly-formed and conflicting amendments to clarify that § 6045 should not be read to have that effect. Failing to pass either of them resulted in the drafters of the legislation writing a letter to Secretary Janet Yellen (quoted above in Section II.A.1).132Id.; Letter to Yellen, supra note 71. Review of such previous attempts to provide guidance can be incredibly informative, especially when viewed with a consideration of why they failed.133See Lauren Vella & Samantha Handler, IRS Crypto Broker Rules Are Months Overdue: The Delay, Explained, Bloomberg Tax (Aug. 3, 2023 8:31 AM), https://news.bloombergtax.com/daily-tax-report/irs-crypto-broker-rules-are-months-overdue-the-delay-explained [https://perma.cc/A4HN-XECA] (detailing the resulting delays in attempts to regulate “nascent” technologies).

The interpretations of the 2014 Notice and Rev. Rul. 2019 that followed demonstrate the problems with attempting to interpret legislative intent with respect to an application that essentially did not exist at the time of drafting.134Sutherland, Block Rewards, supra note 23, at 751. For example, the NYSBA points out in their report, the 2014 notice did not address whether virtual currencies fall under an existing asset class or are a new class of assets, which is necessary to apply the Code, further illustrative of the gaps of the 2014 Notice.135N.Y. State Bar Ass’n Tax Section, supra note 46, at 3.

Lastly, Rev. Rul. 2019 does not cover staking rewards either; it covers income from “airdrop[s],” another type of token distribution, which follows something called a “hard fork.”136Rev. Rul. 2019-24, 2019-44 I.R.B. 1004; see generally Eric D. Chason, Cryptocurrency Hard Forks and Revenue Ruling 2019-24, 39 Va. Tax Rev. 279 (2019). However, Rev. Rul. 2019 is still referenced in the staking argument because it applies a rigid requirement to include income at the time of receipt even if “the airdropped cryptocurrency is not immediately credited to the taxpayer’s account.”137Rev. Rul. 2019-24, 2019-44 I.R.B. 1004. Although the related Q&A required an investor—but not an employee—to have “dominion and control” over the tokens—basically holding them on a network that allowed trading—so that people were not taxed on a receipt of which they were unaware. Recall the analysis of the constructive receipt doctrine in Section II.B to see how this is a divergence from the general rule of including income “in the taxable year during which it is credited to his account.”138Treas. Reg. § 1.451-2(a).

The IRS’s relative silence is understandable because any determination, announcement, or notice would fill the vacuum of existing authority and possibly assume greater weight than the IRS is prepared to put forth at this time. The motion to dismiss the Jarrett case, and avoidance of providing a ruling, illustrates the IRS’s reluctance to be “pinned down” in the future, and its desire to have taxpayers carry some of the uncertainty.139See Rev. Proc. 2022-1, 2022-1 I.R.B. 1. The question is what the intended purpose of this kind of uncertainty is, and whether it is effective in accomplishing that purpose.

B.  The Importance of IRS Action or Inaction

At a certain point, absent guidance from the IRS, the development of blockchain and cryptocurrency industries may be shaped by a reliance on continued non-regulation, or at least an expectation that potential future regulation will not be overly burdensome (or will be prospective). Cryptocurrency has a checkered reputation among many skeptics, and stories like the collapse of the world’s second largest crypto-exchange, FTX, do not help with that image.140Courtney Degen, FTX Bankruptcy Draws Increased Calls for Crypto Regulation, Pensions & Investments (Nov. 17, 2022, 2:41 PM), https://www.pionline.com/cryptocurrency/ftx-collapse-draws-increased-calls-cryptocurrency-regulation [https://perma.cc/S3LD-SR88]. And while the collapse of FTX is an issue of securities regulation, rather than tax-specific regulation, its effects were still hugely impactful to the market for cryptocurrencies as a whole, which indicates the possibility that more legislators will be calling for new swaths of legislation soon.

1.  Appropriate and Unavoidable Uncertainty in Tax

In practice, the IRS wants to let taxpayers carry some uncertainty, particularly when it comes to new legal ground.141See, e.g., Rev. Proc. 2022-1, 2022-1 I.R.B. 1. The IRS has good reason to avoid the creation of bright-line rules, especially in the case of emerging technologies. Taxpayers carrying uncertainty caused by a lack of regulation must act with a certain degree of reasonableness for fear of pushing the bounds of what is permissible too far. Once taxpayers know exactly when they trigger tax effects, they will often allow that limit to dictate their behavior, in some cases engaging in activities which they would not have done but for those tax effects. Take for example the annual gift tax exclusion. Each year, the IRS sets a limit on the size of a gift that one may make without paying taxes (for 2022 that amount was $16,000).142Instructions for Form 709, IRS (2023), https://www.irs.gov/instructions/i709#en_US_2022 [https://perma.cc/H4GE-FQ93]. A common practice among the wealthy is to gift their children this maximum amount each year.143Hayden Adams, The Estate Tax and Lifetime Gifting, Charles Schwab (May 18, 2023), https://www.schwab.com/learn/story/estate-tax-and-lifetime-gifting [https://perma.cc/5XDM-5Y79] (explaining the method in which large net worth taxpayers may capitalize on the gift tax exemption); Kate Dore, The Wealthy May Avoid $163 Billion in Taxes Every Year. Here’s How They Do It, CNBC (Sept. 20, 2021, 2:20 PM), https://www.cnbc.com/2021/09/20/the-wealthy-may-avoid-163-billion-in-annual-taxes-how-they-do-it-.html [https://perma.cc/8HET-4BFE] (illustrating the component that estate taxes play in tax avoidance by the wealthy). Naturally, this tax benefit is disproportionately enjoyed by the wealthy, and is an example of how our system fosters generational wealth among the rich. This shows how even if the IRS determines a “limit” which it is okay with, such bright-line rules can cause taxpayers to let tax effects change their behavior, which may be an efficiency cost if that behavior is bad.144Graetz et al., supra note 16, at 29 (defining efficiency cost). However, to note, the behavior (gifting money to a child) may only be an attempt to reduce future estate tax liabilities under I.R.C § 2001 (outlining the taxes imposed on estates transferred from a decedent) in which case the bright-line rule is not changing economically motivated behavior, but rather it is changing the tax motivated behavior of reducing future estate tax liability.

While clear guidance from Congress and the IRS may help address concerns that cryptocurrency transactions are underreported, such clear limits in tax law may cause taxpayers to try and game the system. This “gaming” can be particularly pernicious in the face of illogical or poorly planned rules. For example, consider the Cohan rule, which was intended to reduce the compliance burden of recording certain deductible expenditures by allowing taxpayers to approximate their total deductions.145Cohan v. Comm’r, 39 F.2d 540, 543–44 (2d Cir. 1930); Treas. Reg. § 1.274-5–T(c)(3); see also Rev. Proc, 83-71, 1983-2 C.B. 590. Taxpayers realized that the lowered burden of compliance made it nearly impossible to audit the accuracy of their “approximations,” resulting in increased abuse of the rule; this resulted in the amendment of § 274(d), which closed this loophole by imposing substantiation rules (requiring taxpayers to maintain adequate records).146I.R.C. § 274(d). So, if Congress or the IRS present illogical rules, they risk opening opportunities for tax arbitrage.

Congress and the IRS must therefore weigh the need for regulation now against the risk of providing regulation without enough information to do so as thoughtfully as is necessary.

2.  Risk of Stifling Innovation

Regardless of the public’s perception of cryptocurrency, it is a large part of web3, the next generation of the internet.147Akash Takyar, How Web3 in IoT Will Bring Digital Transformation, LeewayHertz https://www.leewayhertz.com/web3-in-iot [https://perma.cc/Z6ER-GRNN] (“Web3 aims to decentralize the internet and allow consumers to take back control of their data. IoT simultaneously aspires to connect nearly everything around us with the internet and eliminate the gap between the virtual and the real worlds.”). As the letter from members of Congress to Secretary Yellen shows, there is real reason/motivation to avoid inhibiting this development with poor regulation.148 Letter to Yellen, supra note 71. It is helpful to look outside of tax law to an area of law rich in considerations of how to balance regulation of new technology: tort law. For example, in Pokora v. Wabash Railway Co., Judge Cardozo limited another case, which required drivers to fully exit their vehicles to look down each side of a railroad before crossing, or else the drivers risked being found contributorily negligent if hit by a train.149Pokora v. Wabash Ry. Co., 292 U.S. 98, 102, 105–06 (1934). In his ruling, Judge Cardozo explained the risk of arbitrary and uninformed rule making:

Illustrations such as these bear witness to the need for caution in framing standards of behavior that amount to rules of law. The need is the more urgent when there is no background of experience out of which the standards have emerged. They are then, not the natural flowerings of behavior in its customary forms, but rules artificially developed, and imposed from without.150Id. at 105 (emphases added).

While Judge Cardozo ruled with respect to railway accident tort law, his reasoning was truly premised on the fact that (at the time) railroads were new and disruptive technology in some respects. Requiring drivers to fully exit their vehicle was a burdensome and often ineffectual (as was the case for John Pokora, who followed the regulation and was still hit by a train.)151Id. at 99, 105. Judge Cardozo’s reasoning was particularly sound, considering that trains were so fast that a perfectly compliant person, such as John Pokora, could still end up injured because a train could appear in the time it took a driver to turn around and reenter their car. Today, the clear answer is to retrofit crossings with gate arms that indicate when a driver may cross safely. At the time, such technology was not available. The point, however, is that prematurely creating rules that may have led to the public resenting the adoption of railways could have chilled the development of infrastructure that would inevitably become crucial to the economy of the United States. Regulations on cryptocurrencies and blockchains may have the same effect if those rules are not informed by a “background of experience,” which is still expanding.152Id. at 105. Previously advanced amendments have been conflicting, and sometimes, practically ineffective.153See Ritter, KPMG Article, supra note 5. This implies that we may still be waiting for the “crossing-gate arm” that the crypto space needs. Now, if you are convinced that the utility of railroads seems greater than that of blockchain technology, refer to the legislators in Boston (now a hub of the tech industry) who decided that computer sales was too risky of a business and therefore barred the purchase of Apple stock by individuals in Massachusetts when the company went public in 1980.

In Boston, state regulators said the offering is too risky and barred sale of the shares in the Bay State.

The decision affects individual investors, but doesn’t extend to financial institutions, which are presumed to be sophisticated. . . . 

Under the Massachusetts ruling, the Apple stock falls short of several provisions aimed at weeding out highfliers that don’t have solid earnings foundations.154Richard E. Rustin & Mitchell C. Lynch, Apple Computer Set to Go Public Today; Massachusetts Bars Sale of Stock as Risky, Wall St. J., Dec. 12, 1980, at 5, https://www.wsj.
com/public/resources/documents/AppleIPODec12_1980_WSJ.pdf [https://perma.cc/N3WL-BBJE].

Limiting regulation like Boston’s is especially frustrating when the opportunity was only withheld from individuals but not large entities, which is another illustration of the harm that may result from poorly informed regulation.

3.  Other Concerns the Treasury and IRS Must Consider

In general, the IRS wants to be careful when outlining rules. Putting aside the obvious concerns of allowing tax planning avenues conducive of tax evasion, whenever a bright-line rule is put forth, tax planners will now have a hard limit on what is permissible, and therefore may act in ways that take their tax saving right up to the edge of what may be permitted by the IRS (recall Section III.B.1 detailing the abuse of the Cohan rule).155Cohan v. Comm’r, 39 F.2d 540, 543–44 (2d Cir. 1930). This is exactly why the IRS tends to prefer taxpayers carry some of the uncertainty, which requires taxpayers to plan more carefully, and often, more reasonably. A sequential point for the IRS and Treasury to consider is related to the potential for stifling invention discussed above. Taxing PoS participants like PoW miners could have a large negative impact on the viability of PoS networks. By overburdening PoS networks with taxes that may push more people to PoW networks, and because PoW networks consume much more energy than PoS networks, there may even be a negative environmental impact based on applied taxes, which had not been considered.156N.Y. State Bar Ass’n Tax Section, supra note 46, at 4–5.

C.  Possible Points of Reference for Predicting Future IRS Action

There have been a multitude of other possible interpretations not explored by this Note, which may form the basis for future action by the IRS. For instance, Sutherland examined the argument that tokens on a PoS network should be treated as interests in a partnership, where the tokens are just used as a way of “voting” how the network should be maintained.157Sutherland, Block Rewards Part 2, supra note 21, at 962. If the IRS took that position, it would then be at least partially constrained by subsection K, the Code’s rules of partnership tax. It is also possible that the IRS will determine staking rewards are “new property,” warranting actual amendment of the Code. The “new property” argument is popular among staking advocates, and legal experts have already pointed out that the recent Revenue Ruling 2023-14 made no determination of whether or not staking rewards are “new property,” implying that the ruling may not cover every mode of receipt regarding staking rewards.158Dimon et. al, supra note 3. In any scenario, it is important to recognize that the IRS does not promulgate the Code; rather, it is “organized to carry out the responsibilities of the secretary of the Treasury under section 7801 of the Internal Revenue Code.”159The Agency, Its Mission and Statutory Authority, IRS, https://www.irs.gov/about-irs/the-agency-its-mission-and-statutory-authority [https://perma.cc/74XT-2NVF] (explaining how Congress promulgates tax laws of the I.R.C. under Title 26, and that it is the Secretary of Treasury’s responsibility to administer and enforce those laws, which was supported by the creation of the IRS under § 7803). Accordingly, before attempting to use past actions of the IRS to predict the trajectory of tax legislation over cryptocurrencies, one should remember that the IRS is not the legislating body (it only seems that way in the context of staking rewards due to the lack of actual legislation). As an arm of the government, it acts more like a computer, applying information to the Code and returning answers of “compliant” or “noncompliant.”

1.  Determinations Based on All Facts and Circumstances

Deferral of explicit guidance on staking income is not to say that the IRS may not adopt flexible regulation as we wait for a sufficient background of experience to develop. There are plenty of instances in the Code of overbroad rules intended to apply where individualized review is needed, but providing such review would be too difficult administratively. One such code section, possibly informative of additional future action by the IRS (albeit substantively unrelated to staking rewards), is the “loose” rule of § 302 relating to stock redemptions when corporations repurchase stock from its shareholders.160I.R.C. § 302. Section 302 is “loose” in two ways: first, it sets an apparently arbitrary threshold of 80% on what constitutes “substantially disproportionate” with respect to reduction in voting control by a shareholder following a redemption.161Id. § 302(b)(2)(C)(i). Second, the accompanying regulation § 1.302–3 requires that a “facts and circumstances” assessment should be used to smoke out any intent that indicates a “substantially disproportionate redemption.”162Treas. Reg. § 1.302-3(a)(2)–(3). The 80% threshold in § 302 seems “loose” for the lack of explanation of what materiality 80% holds. This implies that at one point the Treasury may have decided that precise measurements of control were too difficult to apply, so using a high precision test would not have resulted in a significantly more efficient application of the rule. Accordingly, it is not unreasonable to assume that the IRS could administer guidance similarly vague for staking rewards, which are incredibly burdensome to track as they stand. The second “looseness”—stemming from the facts and circumstances test in § 1.302-3—illustrates the Treasury’s willingness to apply flexible guidance that accounts for the unique aspects of different applications. In the face of calls for guidance, the Treasury may adopt similarly flexible approaches to staking rewards in an attempt to balance the importance of express rulings with its desire to avoid premature regulation.

CONCLUSION

Pressure on the IRS to provide guidance has waned after Revenue Ruling 2023-14, but there is still lingering uncertainty on the need for additional guidance,163Landoni & Sutherland, supra note 25, at 1214–15 (explaining that there is no single perfect method for addressing even dilution on its own). and many possible solutions risk replacing current uncertainties with new ones. Therefore, the IRS should consider Judge Cardozo’s concerns on premature regulation by observing whether the effects of this Revenue Ruling indicate that this guidance waited for PoS networks to develop a sufficient “background of experience” with which the IRS was equipped to provide informed guidance.164Pokora v. Wabash Ry. Co., 292 U.S. 98, 105 (1934). Such retrospection by the IRS will be important for any further guidance down the track, else we risk “shutting down the railroad” just because we have yet to invent the crossing-gate arm.165Id.

97 S. Cal. L. Rev. 537

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* Senior Submissions Editor, Southern California Law Review, Volume 97; J.D. Candidate 2024, University of Southern California Gould School of Law; B.S. Mechanical Engineering 2019, Tufts University. Thank you to my dad, John B. Duncan, and my academic success fellow, Tia Kerkhof, for each of their support. I would also like to thank Professor Edward McCaffery for his guidance. Finally, many thanks to all the Southern California Law Review members for their invaluable work on this Note.