Fear and Free Speech

INTRODUCTION

Fear changes lives. And for this reason, fear sometimes changes the law.

Because of fear’s debilitating effects, the law often forbids behavior that causes its targets to fear for their physical safety. Think of the laws that prohibit threats in order to free their targets “to go about their own lives.”1Kenneth L. Karst, Threats and Meanings: How the Facts Govern First Amendment Doctrine, 58 Stan. L. Rev. 1337, 1345 (2006). Think too of stalking laws that restrict fear-engendering behavior that “violates basic social norms of privacy and consent by persisting even in the face of a lack of consent.”2Genevieve Lakier & Evelyn Douek, The First Amendment Problem of Stalking: Counterman, Stevens, and the Limits of History and Tradition, 113 Calif. L. Rev. 143, 190 (2025).

A different type of fear—speakers’ fear of the government’s punishment—shapes pivotal First Amendment doctrine. The U.S. Supreme Court focused on this fear in Counterman v. Colorado when it held that the First Amendment requires the prosecutor in a “true threats” case to establish the speaker’s recklessness—that is, that the speaker “consciously disregarded a substantial risk” that his statements would make his target fear for her physical safety.3Counterman v. Colorado, 143 S. Ct. 2106, 2111–12 (2023). In the interest of full disclosure, I note that I served on the team representing the state of Colorado in Counterman before the U.S. Supreme Court. In so holding, the majority underscored that requiring such proof “reduc[es] an honest speaker’s fear that he may accidentally [or erroneously] incur liability,” thus “provid[ing] ‘breathing room’ for more valuable speech.”4Id. at 2115 (quoting United States v. Alvarez, 567 U.S. 709, 733 (2012) (Breyer, J., concurring)).

But this doctrinal choice is not without its costs, costs borne by the many targets of threats who lack access to evidence of the speaker’s interior mental state. This is the case, for example, of “[a] delusional speaker [who] may lack awareness of the threatening nature of her speech; a devious speaker [who] may strategically disclaim such awareness; and a lucky speaker [who] may leave behind no evidence of mental state for the government to use against her.”5Counterman, 143 S. Ct. at 2141 (Barrett, J., dissenting); see also Farmer v. Brennan, 511 U.S. 825, 836–37 (1994) (explaining that criminal recklessness requires a subjective showing that the defendant disregarded a risk of harm of which they were aware).

Free speech, of course, is not always free for everyone. A great deal of First Amendment law requires the targets of harmful speech to pay the price for the speaker’s freedom to speak and for the public’s freedom to receive that expression. To illustrate, the Supreme Court’s defamation jurisprudence sometimes requires innocent targets to bear the costs of reputation-damaging falsehoods when those targets cannot prove the speaker’s recklessness.6Gertz v. Robert Welch, Inc., 418 U.S. 323, 342–43 (1974). So too did a grieving father pay, with his pain, for the protected expression of speakers who exploited his loss to amplify their religious and political views.7Snyder v. Phelps, 562 U.S. 443, 460–61 (2011). Doctrinal choices are sometimes difficult because they require courts to pick between important, but incommensurable, values. When push comes to shove, First Amendment law generally chooses to protect speech on matters of public concern—the speech that lies at the core of the First Amendment—at the expense of its targets’ reputation and at the expense of its targets’ freedom from emotional cruelty.8E.g., N.Y. Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U.S. 254, 270 (1964) (emphasizing “the principle that debate on public issues should be uninhibited, robust, and wide-open, and that it may well include vehement, caustic, and sometimes unpleasantly sharp attacks on government and public officials”).

But different, and difficult, doctrinal choices arise when we recognize that speech interests sometimes lie on both sides of a First Amendment dispute, thus requiring courts to choose between important and commensurate values. As we will see, the fear induced by threats and by stalking can silence targets’ expression at least as directly and frequently as the fear induced by the prospect of the government’s punishment silences speakers’ expression. Consider the many targets who stop going out in public, stop using the phone, stop engaging online, stop making music and other forms of art, and stop participating in public life.9See infra notes 62–71 and accompanying text. Identifying free speech as a “preferred” constitutional value should thus require attention to the free speech costs of law’s failure to adequately protect the targets of threats and stalking.10See Frederick Schauer, Fear, Risk and the First Amendment: Unraveling the “Chilling Effect”, 58 B.U. L. Rev. 685, 732 (1978) (describing the First Amendment as a “preferred value”).

Yet an ostensibly speech-protective Supreme Court failed to acknowledge those costs in Counterman v. Colorado, a case that required it to define the contours of the category of threats unprotected by the First Amendment. “True threats” cause their targets to fear for their physical safety—and this fear, in turn, disrupts those targets’ lives.11See R.A.V. v. City of St. Paul, 505 U.S. 377, 388 (1992) (explaining that the law punishes threats to protect their targets “from the fear of violence, from the disruption that fear engenders, and from the possibility that the threatened violence will occur”). For these reasons, the Supreme Court has long treated true threats as among the handful of speech categories entirely unprotected by the First Amendment.12Id. Until Counterman, however, the Supreme Court had never directly engaged the question of how to determine when speech constitutes an unprotected threat. In the meantime, lower courts disagreed over whether the universe of unprotected threats should be determined through a subjective, or instead, an objective inquiry. Some took a subjective approach, requiring the prosecution (or, in a civil case, the plaintiff) to prove that the speaker intended to make his target fear for her physical safety, thus privileging defendants’ speech interests.13See, e.g., United States v. Bachmeier, 8 F.4th 1059, 1064 (9th Cir. 2021); United States v. Heineman, 767 F.3d 970, 975 (10th Cir. 2014). A majority of lower courts instead approached the problem from the target’s perspective, adopting an objective approach that asked whether the speaker’s statement would cause a reasonable person in the target’s position to fear for their physical safety, thus privileging targets’ interests—including, but not limited to, their speech interests.14See, e.g., United States v. Nishnianidze, 342 F.3d 6, 15 (1st Cir. 2003); Heller v. Bedford Cent. Sch. Dist., 665 F. App’x 49, 51 n.1 (2d Cir. 2016); United States v. White, 670 F.3d 498, 509 (4th Cir. 2012); Porter v. Ascension Par. Sch. Bd., 393 F.3d 608, 616 (5th Cir. 2004); United States v. Stewart, 411 F.3d 825, 828 (7th Cir. 2005); United States v. Ivers, 967 F.3d 709, 718 (8th Cir. 2020).

The Supreme Court resolved this question in Counterman by requiring a subjective standard, holding that speech communicating a serious intent to commit unlawful violence constitutes an unprotected “true threat” only when the prosecution can prove the defendant’s recklessness—in other words, the defendant’s conscious disregard of the risk that his statements could make his target fear for her physical safety.15Counterman v. Colorado, 143 S. Ct. 2106, 2111 (2023). The Counterman Court justified this choice as speech-protective, emphasizing that speakers’ expression might be chilled if they fear punishment under a legal standard too quick to view their speech as threatening.16Id. at 2113 (“Counterman contends . . . that the absence of such a mens rea requirement will chill protected, non-threatening speech. . . . To combat the kind of chill he references, our decisions have often insisted on protecting even some historically unprotected speech through the adoption of a subjective mental-state element. We follow the same path today, holding that the State must prove in true-threats cases that the defendant had some understanding of his statements’ threatening character.”).

But this was not the only speech-protective choice available to the Court. In choosing to privilege the defendant’s speech over the target’s reasonable fear for their physical safety, the majority also effectively chose to privilege the defendant’s speech over the target’s expression. And just as the public loses valuable speech when the prospect of governmental punishment deters speakers from speaking, so too does the public lose valuable speech when the law permits the silencing of targets’ speech.17See infra notes 30–31, 62–71 and accompanying text.

To be sure, we should worry about doctrinal choices that deter valuable speech by making a potential speaker fear that the government will punish them for what they intended as a joke or as political rhetoric. Recall, for example, eighteen-year-old Robert Watts, who was convicted of threatening President Lyndon B. Johnson during the Vietnam War for saying to laughing listeners at a political rally on the Washington, D.C. Mall that “I have already received my draft classification as 1–A and I have got to report for my physical this Monday coming. I am not going. If they ever make me carry a rifle the first man I want to get in my sights is L. B. J.”18Watts v. United States, 394 U.S. 705, 706 (1969) (per curiam). The Supreme Court overturned Watts’s conviction, holding that his speech constituted “political hyperbole” rather than a “true threat” against the president.19Id. at 708 (internal quotation marks omitted).

At the same time, however, we should also worry about doctrinal choices that enable the silencing of targets’ expression by insufficiently protecting those targets from reasonable fear for their physical safety. Think now of musician C.W., the victim in Counterman, who received hundreds of disturbing messages from a complete stranger who repeatedly resisted her efforts to block him. As a result, C.W. stopped walking alone, stopped attending public events, and canceled her own public musical performances.20See Counterman, 143 S. Ct. at 2112. Think too of the many threats to journalists and election officials that silence and suppress their work foundational to a free and fair democracy.21See infra notes 65–71 and accompanying text. The speech-silencing effects of fear-inducing speech are by no means limited to artists and journalists: they extend to all targets, because all are potential speakers.

Courts often resolve difficult First Amendment disputes—including that in Counterman, which called upon the Court to define the contours of a category of unprotected speech—by concluding that the defendant’s speech interests outweigh the target’s substantial but incommensurate interests in reputation or peace, among other values. But threats and stalking cases present even greater challenges for those who consider speech to be a preferred value because commensurate speech interests lie on both sides of these disputes.

The First Amendment issues triggered by the regulation of fear-inducing speech thus require hard choices between speakers’ and targets’ free speech interests, choices that also affect the public’s access to valuable speech. This Article both criticizes the Court’s approach in Counterman and offers a guide to addressing targets’ expressive interests in threats and stalking cases after Counterman. More specifically, it seeks to foster a mindset for considering the First Amendment problems involving fear-inducing speech that attends to targets’ expression as much as defendants’ expression. To this end, it examines the ways in which threats and stalking can silence targets’ speech and deter their participation in public life, and then considers available choices that attend to targets’—not just defendants’—expressive interests.

I. Fear on Both Sides, Speech on Both Sides

This Part starts by describing concerns that fear of government punishment will cause speakers to censor themselves, thus “chilling” their speech. It then explains how the fear induced by threats and stalking can cause their targets to engage in self-censorship of their own.

A. Speakers’ Fear of the Government

 “A chilling effect,” Frederick Schauer explained, occurs “when individuals seeking to engage in activity protected by the first amendment are deterred from so doing by governmental regulation not specifically directed at that protected activity.”22See Schauer, supra note 10, at 693 (emphasis omitted). In other words, concerns about chilling effects anticipate that government’s efforts to modify some unprotected behavior will inadvertently chill protected behavior. As Leslie Kendrick observed, “intuition suggests that some legal rules will chill speech. The further a law encroaches on protected speech, the greater the risk that such speech will be penalized. The more likely speakers are to be penalized, the less they will speak.”23Leslie Kendrick, Speech, Intent, and the Chilling Effect, 54 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 1633, 1638 (2013).

Because chilling effects harm speakers—and the rest of us, too—by stifling the delivery of opinions, facts, and ideas, the Court’s instrumental concerns about chilling effects not infrequently drive its doctrinal choices.24See Monica Youn, The Chilling Effect and the Problem of Private Action, 66 Vand. L. Rev. 1473, 1483 (2013) (“[T]he chilling effect concept does not delineate a discrete, freestanding doctrinal category. . . . [Instead, it informs] a number of procedural, categorical, and substantive doctrines in First Amendment case law.”). Under its defamation jurisprudence, for example, the more valuable the speech potentially chilled by the prospect of defamation liability, the higher the bar for proving the mental state required to establish such liability.25See N.Y.  Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U.S. 254, 271–72, 279–80 (1964). This doctrine thus requires defamation plaintiffs who are public officials or public figures to show that a speaker made a defamatory statement with “ ‘actual malice’—that is, with knowledge that it was false or with reckless disregard of whether it was false or not”—before they can establish the speaker’s liability for reputation-damaging falsehoods.26Id. at 279–80. The Court has explained this doctrinal innovation as necessary to ensure breathing space for speech critical of those in the public eye or otherwise on matters of public concern—the speech at the core of the First Amendment.27Id. at 271–72.

In the same vein, the Counterman Court explained its doctrinal choice as “based on fear of ‘self-censorship’—the worry that without such a subjective mental-state requirement, the uncertainties and expense of litigation will deter speakers from making even truthful statements.”28Counterman v. Colorado, 143 S. Ct 2106, 2115 (2023) (quoting N.Y. Times, 376 U.S. at 279). In explaining its decision to require the prosecution in a “true threats” case to show the defendant’s reckless mental state, the Court catalogued the ways in which the prospect of the government’s punishment can chill a speaker’s expression by instilling fear of various consequences: “The speaker’s fear of mistaking whether a statement is a threat; his fear of the legal system getting that judgment wrong; his fear, in any event, of incurring legal costs—all those may lead him to swallow words that are in fact not true threats.”29Counterman, 143 S. Ct at 2116; see also id. at 2115 (“The result is ‘self-censorship’ of speech that could not be proscribed—a ‘cautious and restrictive exercise’ of First Amendment freedoms.”) (quoting Gertz v. Welch, 418 U.S. 323, 340 (1974)).

True, so far as it goes. But nowhere did the Counterman majority similarly detail targets’ fear for their physical safety and the resulting costs of such fear—costs that include the silencing of their speech along with many other life disruptions. The silencing of targets’ speech harms the general public, too, by denying it the expression that targets would otherwise deliver.30See infra notes 64–71 and accompanying text. The majority instead simply noted the “profound harms” imposed by threats without specifying those harms.31Counterman, 143 S. Ct at 2117 (noting “the profound harms, to both individuals and society, that attend true threats of violence—as evidenced in this case”). Justice Sotomayor’s concurring opinion was more direct, though brief, in acknowledging the harms to targets: “Stalking can be devastating and dangerous. Lives can be ruined, and in the most tragic instances, lives are lost. . . . Even isolated threatening speech can do real harm. Such speech not only disrupts lives, it can silence the speech of others who become afraid to speak out.” Id. at 2123 (Sotomayor, J., concurring in part and concurring in the judgment) (citation omitted).

Judges (like other human beings) sometimes mask the difficulty of hard trade-offs—making those trade-offs feel considerably easier than they actually are—by failing to identify and weigh the costs of their choices. As Mary Anne Franks observed, courts’ “concern about chilling effects tends to be highly selective.”32Mary Anne Franks, Fearless Speech, 17 First Amend. L. Rev. 294, 306 (2019). Others have also observed this dynamic. See Danielle Keats Citron, From Bad to Worse: Stalking, Threats, and Chilling Effects, 2023 Sup. Ct. Rev. 175, 180 (2023); R. George Wright, Counterman v. Colorado: True Threats, Speech Harms, and Missed Opportunities, 99 Ind. L.J. 27, 30 (2023). Indeed, even as the Counterman majority described

itself as balancing competing interests, it particularized only speakers’ interests.33See Counterman, 143 S. Ct at 2119.

The majority’s choice may have been motivated not only by its instrumental concerns about chilling defendants’ expression but also by deontic commitments to punish only morally blameworthy speakers. In this vein, the majority described “reckless defendants” as “morally culpable” because they “have done more than make a bad mistake. They have consciously accepted a substantial risk of inflicting serious harm.”34Id. at 2118; see also Kendrick, supra note 23, at 1633 (suggesting that courts’ intuitions about moral culpability contribute to their doctrinal choices in this area because “the difficulties of measuring and remedying chilling effects cast doubt on whether they could ever provide the sole justification for the choice of one intent requirement over another”). But moral principles cut both ways here, too, as the targets of threats themselves are often entirely innocent victims who experience life-changing harm regardless of the speaker’s mental state. Think again of C.W., the victim in Counterman whose daily existence and musical career were “upended” by hundreds of disturbing messages from a man she had never met.35Counterman, 143 S. Ct at 2112. Think too of journalists and election officials targeted by threats who live in fear for their, and their families’, safety for simply doing their jobs—jobs foundational to a functioning democracy.36See infra notes 65–71 and accompanying text. That we can identify deontic as well as instrumental concerns on both sides of these disputes adds to the difficulties in deciding them, difficulties that judges should not obscure.37See Seana Valentine Shiffrin, The Moral Neglect of Negligence, in 3 Oxford Studies in Political Philosophy 213 (David Sobel, Peter Vallentyne & Steven Wall eds., 2017) (describing the moral failures of negligence as involving “a failure to take and exercise appropriate responsibility for one’s agency; and, when that failure involves other people, negligence involves a failure properly to recognize and acknowledge their moral significance”).

B. Targets’ Fear for Their Physical Safety

Threats and stalking are related but distinct in important ways. I use the term “threat” to mean speech that causes its target to fear for their physical safety.38See R.A.V. v. City of St. Paul, 505 U.S. 377, 388 (1992) (explaining that law punishes threats to protect their targets “from the fear of violence, from the disruption that fear engenders, and from the possibility that the threatened violence will occur”). And by “stalking,” I mean repeated and unwelcome conduct, contact, or communication that causes its target fear or other severe emotional distress.39See, e.g., Colo. Rev. Stat. § 18-3-602(1)(c) (2023) (making it unlawful “[r]epeatedly [to] follow[], approach[], contact[], place[] under surveillance, or make[] any form of communication with another person . . . in a manner that would cause a reasonable person to suffer serious emotional distress and does cause that person . . . to suffer serious emotional distress”). Both threats and stalking can inflict life-disrupting fear. But they often do so in different ways: all threats, by definition, involve speech, while stalking sometimes involves only conduct, sometimes only speech, and sometimes a mix of the two.40See infra notes 116–18 and accompanying text; see also Lakier & Douek, supra note 2 (“It is this violation of social norms and its disregard for the autonomy of the listener—her right to withdraw from the relationship and to not have to hear what the speaker has to tell her—that makes stalking speech so frightening. It also threatens the target’s sense of agency and freedom because of its (seemingly unstoppable) intrusion into the victim’s private life.”) And although a speaker may be held liable for a single threatening statement or for many, stalking laws impose liability only for “repeated” unwelcome conduct, contact, or communication.41See infra notes 114–15 and accompanying text.

Fear for one’s physical safety literally changes lives—and not for the better, as fear is among the most debilitating of human experiences. Consider psychologist Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of human needs.42A. H. Maslow, A Theory of Human Motivation, 50 Psych. Rev. 370, 394–95 (1943) (identifying physical safety as among the most important of human goals and thus among those that “monopolize” our time, energy, and attention). Foundational to this hierarchy is our need for physical survival in the form of food, water, shelter, and physical security: only when this need is satisfied can we pursue higher-level social and emotional needs like intimacy, belonging, self-esteem, confidence, and more.43Id. For these reasons, requiring a target to pay for a defendant’s free speech with fear for their physical safety exacts a significantly higher price than requiring them to pay for a defendant’s free speech with their reputation or with their freedom from emotional cruelty.

Fear-inducing speech inflicts harm both physical and mental. One study, for example, reported “high levels of psychopathology among stalking victims,” whose overall psychological distress was about three times higher than that of the general population.44Eric Blaauw, Frans W. Winkel, Ella Arensman, Lorraine Sheridan & Adriënne Freeve, The Toll of Stalking: The Relationship Between Features of Stalking and Psychopathology of Victims, 17 J. Interpersonal Violence 50, 57–58 (2002). Medical evidence demonstrates the life-changing effects of chronic fear that include insomnia and sleep disruptions,45Id.; Jaime Rosenberg, The Effects of Chronic Fear on a Person’s Health, Neuroscience Educ. Inst. Cong. (Nov. 11, 2017), https://www.ajmc.com/view/the-effects-of-chronic-fear-on-a-persons-health [https://perma.cc/M9RM-7JSV]. immune system dysfunction,46Rosenberg, supra note 45. gastrointestinal issues like ulcers and irritable bowel syndrome,47Joe Pierre, How Does Fear Influence Risk Assessment and Decision-Making?, Psych. Today (July 15, 2020), https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/psych-unseen/202007/how-does-fear-influence-risk-assessment-and-decision-making. sexual dysfunction and decreased fertility,48Id. and accelerated aging.49Mai Stafford, Tarani Chandola & Michael Marmot, Association Between Fear of Crime and Mental Health and Physical Functioning, 97 Am. J. Pub. Health 2076, 2078 (2007) (finding that some study participants had “limitations in physical functioning . . . that were commensurate with that of people 9 years” older). Medical evidence also establishes that chronic fear is associated with generally poor mental health,50See Jessica Miles, Straight Outta SCOTUS: Domestic Violence, True Threats, and Free Speech, 74 U. Mia. L. Rev. 711, 735 (2020) (“In addition to an increased risk of physical violence, intimate partner stalking victims suffer from high rates of anxiety and depression.”). with mental health injuries that include anxiety,51Blaauw et al., supra note 44, at 57. depression,52Id. post-traumatic stress disorders,53Sean Wake, Jolie Wormwood & Ajay B. Satpute, The Influence of Fear on Risk Taking: A Meta-Analysis, 34 Cognition & Emotion 1143, 1148 (2020). panic and obsessive compulsive disorders,54Id. impaired formation of long-term memories,55Rosenberg, supra note 45. and suicidal ideation.56Blaauw et al., supra note 44, at 57 (approximately one third of stalking victims reported repeated thoughts about committing suicide). One study found that those who reported higher levels of fear were 50% more likely to show signs of a mental health disorder and 90% more likely to have symptoms of depression than those who reported lower levels of fear.57Stafford et al., supra note 49.

Moreover, the targets of threats and stalking often fear for their physical safety for very good reason. Criminal justice scholar Mary Brewster, for instance, canvassed the experiences of victims of intimate partner violence to conclude that threats served as “a strong and statistically significant predictor of violence.”58Mary P. Brewster, Stalking by Former Intimates: Verbal Threats and Other Predictors of Physical Violence, 15 Violence & Victims 41, 50 (2000); see also Miles, supra note 50, at 734–35 (“Research on stalking demonstrates that a strong correlation exists between intimate partner stalking and physical violence, as eighty-one percent of women who were stalked by a current or former intimate partner were also physically assaulted by that partner.”). By causing targets to fear for their physical safety, threats and stalking not only inflict physical and mental health injuries, but also change the ways in which those targets live their lives.59See Paul E. Mullen & Michele Pathé, Stalking, 29 Crime & Just. 273, 296 (2002) (“All but six of the one hundred victims [surveyed] reported major lifestyle changes and modified their daily activities in direct response to being stalked.”). Stalking, for instance, often forces its targets to miss work,60See Patricia Tjaden & Nancy Thoennes, Nat’l Inst. of Just. & Ctrs. for Disease Control & Prevention, Stalking in America: Findings from the National Violence Against Women Survey 11 (1998), https://www.ojp.gov/pdffiles/169592.pdf [https://perma.cc/BLY2-25T5]; Mullen & Pathé, supra note 59, at 297. to leave their jobs, or their homes.61See Katrina Baum, Shannan Catalano, Michael Rand & Kristina Rose, Bureau of Just. Stat. Special Rep., Stalking Victimization in the United States 6 (2009) (“One in 7 victims reported they moved as a result of the stalking.”); Mullen & Pathé, supra note 59, at 296–97.

Most relevant to this Article, threats and stalking also change their targets’ lives by causing them to speak less, to speak differently, and to participate less in public life. Indeed, the targets of threats and stalking commonly, and reasonably, respond to threats to their physical survival by making themselves silent and invisible.62See Jonathon W. Penney, Understanding Chilling Effects, 106 Minn. L. Rev. 1451, 1510–12 (2022) (“[T]hreats of violence and physical harm are a powerful force for self-censorship, which trigger deeper psychological states of fear, anxiety, and severe emotional distress that then in turn amplify social conformity.” (footnote omitted)). To illustrate, recall the musician’s experience in Counterman: C.W. stopped walking alone, stopped attending other musicians’ events, and canceled her own performances.63See Counterman v. Colorado, 143 S. Ct. 2106, 2112 (2023). Danielle Keats Citron explains how stalking silences protected expression more generally:

[Cyber stalking victims] stop using their phones. Victims change how they express themselves; they are less controversial, more muted, and connect with fewer people. Their withdrawal from online engagement isolates them from friends and family. When victims change their phone numbers to prevent stalkers from calling them, they become unreachable.64Citron, supra note 32, at 198–99.

Consider too the many journalists targeted by threats of death or rape. One recent study found that one in ten journalists surveyed had been threatened with death in the preceding year because of their work;65Erin C. Carroll, Obstruction of Journalism, 99 Denv. L. Rev. 407, 415 (2022). another found that three quarters of female journalists surveyed reported that “they had experienced online abuse, harassment, threats, and attacks.”66Id. at 409. These threats interfere with journalists’ watchdog and educator functions,67See Vincent Blasi, The Checking Value in First Amendment Theory, 2 Am. Bar Found. Rsch. J. 521, 538–39 (1977) (explaining the press’s role as a watchdog for government misconduct); RonNell Andersen Jones, Press Speakers and the First Amendment Rights of Listeners, 90 U. Colo. L. Rev. 499, 537–43 (2019) (explaining the press’s functions as educating the public on a wide range of matters and serving as the public’s proxy by observing what the public does not have the time or resources or other ability to observe for itself). inflicting injury not only to their individual targets, but also to a public’s hopes for a healthy democracy. Free press scholar Erin Carroll has detailed more specifically how threats inhibit and distort the reporting that journalists produce and that the public thus receives:

Obstruction operates on at least three levels: the story, the beat, and the pipeline. At the story level, threats and abuse prevent journalists from covering particular events or incidents. At the beat level, perpetual abuse around broad topics like politics, economics, and immigration dissuades reporters from aggressively covering these beats or even covering them at all. At the pipeline level, violence leads reporters to leave or consider leaving the profession entirely.68Carroll, supra note 65, at 411.

Illustrating these dynamics more specifically, one study found that 37% of female journalists who reported that they had been threatened, harassed, or attacked indicated they avoided certain stories; 8% changed the content or perspectives of the news that they write about; 16% considered requesting a transfer or different beat and 6% requested a transfer or different beat; and 29% indicated the threats and attacks they received made them think about getting out of the profession.69Michelle Ferrier, TrollBusters & Int’l Women’s Media Found., Attacks and Harassment: The Impact on Female Journalists and Their Reporting 39, 44 (Elisa Lees Munoz ed., 2018), https://www.iwmf.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/09/Attacks-and-Harassment.pdf [https://perma.cc/L4ZU-BCE9].

As additional examples, threats against election officials deter those officials from doing work necessary to the democratic self-governance at the core of the First Amendment. A nationwide study of local election officials found that more than one in three of those surveyed reported that they have experienced threats, harassment, or abuse because of their work; more than half reported that they worry about their colleagues’ safety; more than a quarter worried about their own physical safety; and more than a third reported that they knew of local election officials who had left their jobs at least in part because of fear for their safety.70The Brennan Ctr. for Justice, Local Election Officials Survey 9, 15, 19 (2024), https://www.brennancenter.org/our-work/research-reports/local-election-officials-survey-may-2024 [https://perma.cc/C3EN-WUDH]. Not surprisingly, many local jurisdictions now report high levels of turnover among their election officials.71Miles Park, In Some States, More than Half of the Local Election Officials Have Left Since 2020, NPR (Sept. 26, 2023, 5:12 PM), https://www.npr.org/2023/09/26/1200616113/election-official-threats-harassment-turnover [https://perma.cc/7T97-FKL2]; Michael Beckel, Amelia Minkin, Amisa Ratliff, Ariana Rojas, Kathryn Thomas & Adrien Van Voorhis, Issue One, The High Cost of High Turnover 1 (2023), https://issueone.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/The-High-Cost-of-High-Turnover-Report.pdf [https://perma.cc/M53Z-NKD3].

II. Attending to Targets’ Free Speech Interests in Threats and Stalking Cases

As Frederick Schauer observed, courts often choose to err on the side of overprotecting defendants’ speech when crafting First Amendment doctrine:

The chilling effect doctrine reflects the view that the harm caused by the chilling of free speech (or other protected activity) is comparatively greater than the harm resulting from the chilling of the other activities involved. And, the logical and necessary mandate of the chilling effect doctrine is that legal rules be formulated so as to allocate the risk of error away from the preferred value, thereby minimizing the occurrence of those errors which we deem the most harmful.72Schauer, supra note 10, at 705.

The Counterman majority made precisely this choice when it required proof of a speaker’s recklessness as predicate to identifying a “true threat” unprotected by the First Amendment.73See supra notes 15–17, 28–31 and accompanying text.

Again, that is a choice—but by no means the only justifiable, and speech-protective, choice. Because speech interests lie on both sides of threats and stalking cases, those cases require courts to choose not only whether to prefer speakers’ expression over incommensurate harms experienced by targets (like harms to their mental and physical health and their quality of life) but also whether to protect the speaker’s expression at the expense of the target’s expression. This Part considers possibilities for treating targets’ and speakers’ expressive interests in threats and stalking cases with at least the same regard.

A. The First Amendment Argument for Symmetrical Concern for Speakers’ and Targets’ Expressive Interests in Threats Cases

Neither the Counterman majority nor Billy Counterman’s own briefing offered any evidence that anyone’s speech—much less Counterman’s—had been chilled by an objective listener-centered approach (like Colorado’s) for identifying unprotected true threats.74See Brief on the Merits for Respondent at 38–39, 45, Counterman v. Colorado, 143 S. Ct. 2106 (2023) (No. 22-138) (pointing out that Counterman’s anecdotal discussion of fact patterns offered to suggest an objective standard’s potential for chilling did not involve speech prosecuted under a threats theory or involved speech prosecuted under Counterman’s proposed specific intent standard). As dissenting Justice Barrett observed, “objective tests are effectively the status quo today, yet Counterman still struggles to identify past prosecutions that came close to infringing on protected speech.”75Counterman v. Colorado, 143 S. Ct. 2106, 2138 (2023) (Barrett, J., dissenting) (“Before we took this case, the vast majority of Courts of Appeals and state high courts had upheld [statutes that required only an objective showing] as constitutional.”). A number of scholars have noted the limited empirical support for chilling effects concerns. See Suneal Bedi, The Myth of the Chilling Effect, 35 Harv. J.L. & Tech. 267, 307 (2021) (questioning courts’ reliance on chilling effect concerns when crafting doctrine); Jennifer M. Kinsley, Chill, 48 Loy. U. Chi. L.J. 253, 253 (2016) (criticizing chilling effects concerns as making “too may false assumptions about the speakers’ knowledge of the law, their ability to correctly apply the law, and their willingness to conform to the law”); Kendrick, supra note 23, at 1675; Penney, supra note 62, at 1454–55, 1470 (challenging conventional understandings of the chilling effect as “empirically weak” and asserting that most people “are often not sufficiently aware of the law or state activities such that any possible legal harm or sanction could impact their decision about speaking or acting.”); Schauer, supra note 10, at 730 (“While the chilling effect concept appears to be premised upon predictions or assumptions about human behavior, no evidence has been proffered to justify those predictions. It has not been clearly established that individuals are mistakenly deterred or become overly cautious as a result of the existence of particular statutes, rules, or regulations.”). Nevertheless, concern about the law’s chilling effect—that is, the “overdeterrence of benign conduct that occurs incidentally to a law’s legitimate purpose or scope”76Kendrick, supra note 23, at 1649 (emphasis omitted).—is legitimate, indeed intuitively powerful, as a background assumption about how the world works.77See Joseph Blocher & Reva B. Siegel, When Guns Threaten the Public Sphere: A New Account of Public Safety Regulation Under Heller, 116 Nw. U. L. Rev. 139, 186–89 (2021) (discussing the background assumptions that inform the Court’s constitutional doctrine in various areas despite the lack of empirical evidence for such assumptions). For this reason, the Counterman majority was not wrong to worry about chilling effects even absent anecdotal or empirical evidence of chilling.

But courts committed to robust free speech protections should also credit the equally valid premise that a legal standard that fails adequately to protect the targets of threats and stalking will enable the silencing of targets’ speech. Indeed, the First Amendment case for attending to targets’ free speech interests is at least as strong as that for attending to chilling concerns given that targets’ fear for their physical safety demonstrably deters their expression.78See supra notes 62–71 and accompanying text. Just as a speaker’s First Amendment defense need not include evidence that their—or anyone’s—speech was chilled by the prospect that they could be held liable for objectively terrifying statements, a prosecutor or plaintiff need not prove that the target’s—or anyone’s—speech was silenced by their reasonable fear for their physical safety. In short, when developing and applying First Amendment doctrine, courts should weigh the free speech costs borne by the targets of threats and stalking as heavily as the free speech costs borne by speakers chilled by the prospect of the government’s legal action.

The First Amendment argument for this approach gathers additional force when we recognize that targets of threats and stalking cannot meaningfully rely on the traditional self-help remedies of counterspeech and avoidance.79See Whitney v. California, 274 U.S. 357, 377 (1927) (Brandeis, J., concurring) (“If there be time to expose through discussion the falsehood and fallacies, to avert the evil by the processes of education, the remedy to be applied is more speech, not enforced silence.”). For example, only 9% of stalking victims surveyed who tried to discourage their stalkers reported that their engagement improved the situation.80Mary P. Brewster, An Exploration of the Experiences and Needs of Former Intimate Stalking Victims 47 (1998), https://www.ojp.gov/pdffiles1/nij/grants/175475.pdf [https://perma.cc/7VZM-94AX]; see also James Geistman, Brad Smith, Eric G. Lambert & Terry Cluse-Tolar, What to Do About Stalking: A Preliminary Study of How Stalking Victims Responded to Stalking and Their Perceptions of the Effectiveness of These Actions, 26 Crim. Just. Stud. 43, 60 (2013) (“Our findings suggest that stalking victims who confronted stalkers on their own, regardless of whether they were victims of violent or nonviolent stalking, were likely to perceive that their efforts were ineffective. In some cases, their responses had the opposite effect and the victims reported that the stalking behavior worsened.”). A target’s engagement with a stalker through counterspeech can aggravate and escalate the stalker’s behavior81See Mullen & Pathé, supra note 59, at 294 (reporting that some “stalkers will react with extreme violence to their victim’s repeated rebuffs”). and can fuel a stalker’s delusions of an actual relationship with the target by “gratify[ing] the stalker’s wishes to have, and to hold onto, a relationship and reinforc[ing] the pursuit.”82Id.; see also id. at 310 (reporting that “any contact with the perpetrator, however intermittent, will reinforce the unwanted behavior”); Mary Anne Franks, How Stalking Became Free Speech: Counterman v. Colorado and the Supreme Court’s Continuing War on Women, Geo. Wash. L. Rev. On Docket (2022), https://www.gwlr.org/how-stalking-became-free-speech-counterman-v-colorado-and-the-supreme-courts-continuing-war-on-women [https://perma.cc/E2BZ-MYZK] (“[S]talkers often sincerely believe that their behavior is welcome. These delusional beliefs make them more, not less, dangerous to their victims.” (footnote omitted)). For these reasons, targets are often counseled not to engage with stalkers.83See Stalking Prevention, Awareness & Res. Ctr., Stalking Safety Strategies 2 (2022), https://www.stalkingawareness.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/05/Safety-Strategies.pdf [https://perma.cc/FP8G-KMH2] (“Consider cutting off any and all communication with the stalker. Many stalkers misinterpret any contact (even negative contact) as encouragement.”). Nor, due to limited resources, can many targets protect themselves through avoidance. “[M]oving to a new home or changing jobs or schools to avoid threatened violence are less likely to be options for domestic violence victims than for other threat victims,” legal scholar Jessica Miles explains.84Miles, supra note 50, at 736; see also id. at 736–37 (“The relationship between poverty and the increased likelihood of violence is further supported by research that shows that domestic violence victims with the fewest resources experience the highest rates of repeat abuse.”).

A target-centered approach is not without precedent, as the Supreme Court sometimes chooses to shape categories of less-protected speech in ways that privilege listeners’ interests when those listeners cannot protect themselves from harmful speech through rebuttal or escape: this is often the case when speakers enjoy advantages of information or power (or both) over their listeners.85Elsewhere, I have examined settings involving these asymmetries in more detail. See generally Helen Norton, What Twenty-First-Century Free Speech Law Means for Securities Regulation, 99 Notre Dame L. Rev. 97 (2023) (discussing corporations’ speech to investors and shareholders); Helen Norton, Manipulation and the First Amendment, 30 Wm. & Mary Bill Rts. J. 221 (2021) (discussing online platforms’ interactions with their users); Helen Norton, Discrimination, the Speech That Enables It, and the First Amendment, 2020 U. Chi. Legal F. 209 (2020) (discussing employers’ speech to workers); Helen Norton, Powerful Speakers and Their Listeners, 90 U. Colo. L. Rev. 441 (2019) [hereinafter Norton, Powerful Speakers and Their Listeners] (describing asymmetries of information and power between speakers and listeners in several contexts); Helen Norton, Pregnancy and the First Amendment, 87 Fordham L. Rev. 2417 (2019) (discussing the speech of those providing reproductive health care services to pregnant women); Helen Norton, Robotic Speakers and Human Listeners, 41 Seattle U. L. Rev. 1145 (2018) (discussing communications produced by artificial intelligence); Helen Norton, Truth and Lies in the Workplace: Employer Speech and the First Amendment, 101 Minn. L. Rev. 31 (2016) (discussing employers’ speech to workers); Helen Norton, Secrets, Lies, and Disclosures, 27 J.L. & Pol. 641 (2012) (discussing campaign speakers’ and donors’ speech to voters). Recall the Court’s defamation jurisprudence, which requires public officials and public figures to show a speaker’s recklessness (in other words, “actual malice”) before imposing liability for that speaker’s reputation-damaging falsehoods, while relaxing the showing required of private-figure plaintiffs with less ability to remedy reputational harm themselves through counterspeech. More specifically, the Court enables private figures to recover presumed and punitive damages for defamatory falsehoods on matters of private concern without any showing of the speaker’s recklessness.86Dun & Bradstreet, Inc. v. Greenmoss Builders, Inc., 472 U.S. 749, 761 (1985) (plurality opinion). The Supreme Court also understands the First Amendment to permit defamation plaintiffs who are private figures to recover actual damages for defamatory falsehoods on matters of public concern upon a showing of the speaker’s negligence (but requires proof of the speaker’s actual malice to recover presumed or punitive damages in such cases). Gertz v. Robert Welch, Inc., 418 U.S. 323, 347–50 (1974). While this more target-friendly choice rests in great part on the lower First Amendment value of reputation-damaging falsehoods that do not address matters of public concern, it also turns on private figures’ more limited ability (compared to public officials) to protect their reputational interests through rebuttal:

Public officials and public figures usually enjoy significantly greater access to the channels of effective communication and hence have a more realistic opportunity to counteract false statements than private individuals normally enjoy. Private individuals are therefore more vulnerable to injury, and the state interest in protecting them is correspondingly greater.87Gertz, 418 U.S. at 344 (footnote omitted).

When balancing speakers’ expressive interests against private figures’ non-speech (that is, reputational) interests for defamation purposes, the Court thus requires targets to prove no more than a speaker’s recklessness—and sometimes only their negligence. More powerful still is the First Amendment argument for privileging targets’ free speech interests over those of speakers’, especially when those targets cannot meaningfully protect themselves through the traditional self-help remedies of exit and voice. In other words, although recklessness might be an appropriate First Amendment compromise in threats cases if courts were simply balancing defendants’ speech interests against targets’ incommensurate non-speech interests in health and quality of life, recklessness is a much less obvious First Amendment choice if we attend to both parties’ speech interests.

As an illustration, consider the Court’s listener-centered understanding of the First Amendment that treats “false or misleading” commercial speech as entirely unprotected by the First Amendment because of the harm it inflicts on targets’ (consumers’) First Amendment interests in making informed and autonomous decisions regardless of the commercial speaker’s mental state.88Cent. Hudson Gas & Elec. Corp. v. Pub. Serv. Comm’n of New York, 447 U.S. 557, 563–64 (1980) (“The First Amendment’s concern for commercial speech is based on the informational function of advertising. Consequently, there can be no constitutional objection to the suppression of commercial messages that do not accurately inform the public about lawful activity.” (citation omitted)); see also Zauderer v. Off. of Disciplinary Couns., 471 U.S. 626, 638 (1985) (“The States and the Federal Government are free to prevent the dissemination of commercial speech that is false, deceptive, or misleading . . . .”). This listener-centered approach also recognizes that consumers cannot meaningfully protect themselves from these informational harms, because commercial actors have considerably greater access to accurate information about their own goods and services than do consumers.89See Norton, Powerful Speakers and Their Listeners, supra note 85, at 446–48 (explaining commercial actors’ informational advantages over consumers). For these reasons, many false advertising laws have long prohibited false or misleading commercial speech—regardless of the commercial speaker’s mental state—because of the harm posed to consumers as the targets of such speech.90E.g., Aaron v. SEC, 446 U.S. 680, 696–702 (1980) (Section 17(a)(3) of the Securities Act of 1933 “quite plainly focuses upon the effect of particular conduct on members of the investing public, rather than upon the culpability of the person responsible”); FTC v. Algoma Lumber Co., 291 U.S. 67, 81 (1934) (explaining that advertisers’ lack of culpable mental state does not insulate them from liability under the Federal Trade Commission Act’s bar on deceptive trade practices). 

Because fear—and speech—are on both sides of threats and stalking cases, a robust understanding of the Free Speech Clause supports a standard similarly attentive to targets’ expressive interests. To be clear, my point is not that the First Amendment necessarily requires a listener-centered standard when the free speech interests of speakers and their targets collide. But neither does the First Amendment require a speaker-centered standard when we must choose between speakers’ and targets’ expression. I suggest instead that the First Amendment permits—indeed, supports—governmental choices to privilege targets’ free speech interests in certain settings. To this end, I urge that the First Amendment doctrine of threats and stalking cases treat the free speech costs borne by speakers and targets with at least equal concern. This symmetrical concern for speakers’ and targets’ expression in threats cases recognizes that objective listener-centered standards advance free speech as least as much as subjective speaker-centered standards. This approach thus understands the First Amendment to permit legislatures or courts to choose from a range of speech-protective standards such that the Counterman Court was wrong to deny Colorado’s Supreme Court that choice.

What might this symmetrical concern look like in practice? The rest of this Article identifies some possibilities.

B. The Counterman Court’s Missed Opportunity: Defining Unprotected True Threats Through an Objective Target-Centered Standard

Start with the road not taken by the Counterman majority: the Colorado Supreme Court’s objective target-centered approach for identifying unprotected true threats. Developed in a case involving high school students’ heated late-night Twitter (now known as “X”) argument shortly after a local school shooting, that context-driven standard required courts to consider the surrounding circumstances to determine whether “an intended or foreseeable recipient would reasonably perceive [the statement(s)] as a serious expression of intent to commit an act of unlawful violence.”91In re R.D., 464 P.3d 717, 721, 731 (Colo. 2020), abrogated by Counterman v. Colorado, 600 U.S. 66 (2023). In my view, this test treated speakers’ and targets’ free speech interests with equal concern by requiring courts to consider multiple factors that attend to both sets of interests.92This Article focuses on the appropriate First Amendment analysis for threats and stalking cases that involve demonstrably direct collisions between speakers’ and targets’ speech interests—and to be sure, this includes attention to the speech-silencing harm of hate speech that takes the form of threats or stalking. See Virginia v. Black, 538 U.S. 343, 363 (2003) (considering cross-burning’s potential as a “particularly virulent” type of threat given its “long and pernicious history as a signal of impending violence”). This Article does not, however, address the First Amendment analysis to be applied to hate speech or harassment that does not cause the target to fear for their physical safety. See Snyder v. Phelps, 562 U.S. 443, 458–59 (2011) (holding that the First Amendment protected hate speech on a matter of public concern in a context that did not cause a target’s potentially speech-silencing fear for their physical safety). Note, however, that objective standards like Colorado’s approach also protect the equality interests of members of marginalized communities who both disproportionately experience enforcement action as speakers and disproportionately experience threats and stalking as targets. See Counterman, 143 S. Ct. at 2122–23 (Sotomayor, J., concurring in part and concurring in the judgment) (“The burdens of overcriminalization will fall hardest on certain groups . . . . Members of certain groups, including religious and cultural minorities, can also use language that is more susceptible to being misinterpreted by outsiders. And unfortunately, yet predictably, racial and cultural stereotypes can also influence whether speech is perceived as dangerous.”); Danielle Keats Citron, Cyber Civil Rights, 89 B.U. L. Rev. 61, 69–81 (2009) (describing how cyberharassment disproportionately targets women and people of color). These factors included:

  • The statement’s role in any broader exchange or events—for example, whether the statement “was spontaneous or [instead] responsive to some other communication,” where statements that matched the “overall tone” of a conversation in which it joined were less likely to be experienced as objectively terrifying.93In re R.D., 464 P.3d at 732.
  • The medium or platform through which the statement was communicated (including any “distinctive conventions or architectural features”)—where, for example, “prevailing norms in a particular genre” or forum might “recast violent language in a less threatening light.”94Id. at 731–32; see also Lyrissa Barnett Lidsky & Linda Riedemann Norbut, #I🔫U: Considering the Context of Online Threats, 106 Calif. L. Rev. 1885, 1910–28 (2018) (discussing how platforms’ architectural features affect the meaning of posts on those platforms and the value of expert witnesses in explaining the meaning of speech in these settings).
  • The manner in which the statement was conveyed (“e.g., anonymously or not, privately or publicly”95In re R.D., 464 P.3d at 722.)—in which, depending on the context, the speaker’s anonymity and the choice to personally target the statements rather than direct them to a large public audience might cause a reasonable target to experience the statements as threatening.
  • Any relationship between the speaker and target—including any history of violence, the speaker’s awareness of the target’s particular vulnerabilities, or the target’s awareness of the speaker’s patterns of speech or emotional state.96Id. at 733.
  • The audience’s subjective reaction: Contrast Watts v. United States, in which the Court relied in part on the audience’s laughter to identify a statement as protected political hyperbole rather than an unprotected threat97Watts v. United States, 394 U.S. 705, 707 (1969) (per curiam).with statements that prompt their audience to report their concerns about potential violence with law enforcement or trusted adults.98In re R.D., 464 P.3d at 733.

C. Target-Attentive Approaches to Threats Cases After Counterman

Unless and until the Court chooses to revisit its decision in Counterman, however, an objective context-driven standard is precluded in threats cases, which now require prosecutors and plaintiffs to establish a speaker’s recklessness before imposing criminal or civil punishment.99See supra note 3 and accompanying text. That the same First Amendment standard applies to both criminal and civil law settings (like civil protection orders) only raises the expressive stakes of this requirement.100See Counterman v. Colorado, 143 S. Ct. 2106, 2140 (2023) (Barrett, J., dissenting) (“[T]his case is about the scope of the First Amendment, not the interpretation of a criminal statute. Accordingly, the Court’s holding affects the civil consequences for true threats just as much as it restricts criminal liability.”); see also id. at 2140–41 (canvassing the consequences of a recklessness requirement for targets’ ability to secure civil protections from threats through restraining orders, civil enforcement statutes, and school discipline). Counterman and its limitations now present new choices among available approaches, some more attentive to targets’ free speech interests than others.

First, because Counterman establishes recklessness as a First Amendment floor and not a ceiling,101See id. at 2139 (“The optimal balance strikes me as a question best left to the legislature, which could calibrate the mens rea to the circumstance—for example, higher for the criminal context and lower for the civil.”). legislatures remain free to impose even higher levels of mens rea (like intent or knowledge) as a condition of criminal or civil liability. And some do.102E.g., Cal. Penal Code § 76 (prohibiting threats of “any elected public official” made with the speaker’s “specific intent that the statement is to be taken as a threat”); Mass. Gen. Laws ch. 258E, § 1 (2025) (defining harassment (in other words, actionable threats) as “3 or more acts of willful and malicious conduct aimed at a specific person committed with the intent to cause fear, intimidation, abuse or damage to property”). But Counterman does not require legislatures to so choose. Attention to targets’ free speech interests thus supports the legislative choice, consistent with free speech values, not to require any subjective mental state greater than recklessness, which already leaves targets unprotected in the many threats cases in which targets lack access to evidence of the defendant’s interior mental state.103See supra notes 4–5 and accompanying text.

Second, courts’ recklessness determinations in threats cases can sometimes be informed by targets’ experiences. The Counterman majority articulated its recklessness standard as focused on the defendant’s “insufficient concern with risk, rather than awareness of impending harm.”104Counterman, 143 S. Ct. at 2117. A law requiring the defendant’s “awareness of impending harm,” in contrast, requires the prosecution to prove a defendant’s awareness “that [a] result is practically certain to follow.” Id. (quoting United States v. Bailey, 444 U.S. 394, 404 (1980)). As the Court explained in an earlier decision, “[t]hat risk need not come anywhere close to a likelihood. Speeding through a crowded area may count as reckless even though the motorist’s ‘chances of hitting anyone are far less [than] 50%.’ ”105Borden v. United States, 141 S. Ct. 1817, 1824 (2021) (quoting Wayne R. LaFave, Substantive Criminal Law § 5.4(f) (3d ed. 2018)). To demonstrate a defendant’s conscious disregard “of a substantial risk” that his statements would cause his target to fear for her physical safety, prosecutors and plaintiffs may present circumstantial evidence of recklessness—that is, evidence that the defendant ignored “obvious” risks or knew of facts that would have made the danger obvious to someone in the defendant’s situation.106See Farmer v. Brennan, 511 U.S. 825, 842 (1994) (Whether the defendant “had the requisite knowledge of a substantial risk is a question of fact subject to demonstration in the usual ways, including inference from circumstantial evidence, and a factfinder may conclude that [the defendant] knew of a substantial risk from the very fact that the risk was obvious.” (citation omitted)). To be sure, the defendant remains free to introduce evidence that they were unaware of risks that others would find obvious.107See id. at 844 (“[I]t remains open to the [defendants] to prove that they were unaware even of an obvious risk to inmate health or safety. That a trier of fact may infer knowledge from the obvious, in other words, does not mean that it must do so.”). Whether these risks are obvious to the defendant can sometimes be informed by the target’s experience and behavior. For instance, a defendant’s awareness that his target had repeatedly blocked his calls, texts, or other messages—an awareness perhaps demonstrated by his creation of new accounts from which to message his target—can show that he was aware of “obvious” risks that his target experienced his communications as threatening. So, too, could his awareness that his target had changed her expressive (or other) behavior in response to his statements.108See Lyrissa Barnett Lidsky & RonNell Andersen Jones, Of Reasonable Readers and Unreasonable Speakers: Libel Law in a Networked World, 23 Va. J. Soc. Pol’y & L. 155, 177 (2016) (predicting that skeptical juries “will rarely accept a defendant’s argument that she truly believed her delusional and defamatory statements”).

Of course, a target could ensure that a speaker was aware of this risk by telling him that she experienced his statements as threatening—but, as discussed above, such engagement can itself be existentially dangerous.109See supra notes 82–83 and accompanying text. This remains among Counterman’s major deficits in choosing a recklessness inquiry focused on the defendant’s interior mental state rather than threats’ speech-silencing effects on their targets.

D. Target-Attentive Approaches to the Many Stalking Cases That Do Not Involve Threats and Where Counterman Thus Does Not Apply

As explained above, stalking laws protect targets from speech-silencing and life-disrupting fear in ways related to, but distinct from, the protections offered by threats laws.110See supra notes 38–41 and accompanying text. While threats laws address speech that causes its target to fear for their physical safety, stalking laws address fear induced by repeated and unwelcome conduct, contact, or communication. Many stalking cases thus do not, and need not, turn on any allegedly threatening content of the speaker’s communications. In those cases, the default First Amendment rules applynot Counterman’s recklessness requirement.111E.g., State v. Labbe, 314 A.3d 162, 179 (Me. 2024) (“Some stalking prosecutions, like Counterman’s, may rely in whole or in part on words used by a defendant to establish the ‘course of conduct’ and consequent effect upon the victim. It does not follow, however, that the Counterman standard applies to every stalking prosecution in which words are spoken or electronic communication devices are used. Rather, Counterman’s holding is clear: where the State relies on the content of a defendant’s expression as the basis for a stalking charge and to establish harm to the victim, the additional requirement to prove subjective mens rea of recklessness applies.”). Nevertheless, because Counterman addressed threats in the context of a stalking case, the danger remains that courts will inappropriately apply its recklessness standard to stalking cases that do not involve threats.112Indeed, for a time this was the case in Colorado, until the state supreme court overruled a trial court’s holding that a prosecutor had to prove recklessness in a stalking case even though the prosecutor made clear that he would not be proceeding under a true threats theory. People v. Crawford, No. 24SA226, slip op. at *P2 (Colo. May 12, 2025) (holding that “the charges the prosecution brought here, carefully based on repeated actions—including contacts (i.e., texts, phone calls, and emails) but not their contents— do not require proof that the defendant communicated or otherwise acted with a reckless state of mind.”). In the interest of full disclosure, I note that I served on the team representing Colorado’s Attorney General in an amicus filing before the state supreme court in Crawford.

So the first step in attending to stalking targets’ free speech interests is to make sure that courts understand that Counterman’s recklessness requirement does not apply to stalking cases that do not allege unprotected true threats.113See Citron, supra note 32, at 204 (“Counterman did not rule that unprotected true threats are necessary for cyber stalking convictions to comport with the First Amendment. But law enforcers could get the [mistaken] impression that now there must be proof of recklessly made threats in any cyber stalking case.”). The second step is to engage targets’ free speech interests when applying the appropriate First Amendment analysis in the many stalking cases that do not involve threats—and where the free speech costs to the target remain substantial while the defendant’s expressive interests are low (since the repeated and unwelcome nature of stalking, rather than its content, often induces fear).114See Lakier & Douek, supra note 2, at 192 (discussing how an endless of barrage of messages can cause fear regardless of their content: “Their mere presence in her inbox, the fact of their constant arrival, that they just did not stop, made [the defendant’s messages] distressing regardless of what they said”).

To illustrate how courts’ assessment of First Amendment challenges to the enforcement of anti-stalking laws can attend to targets’ free speech interests, consider the following fact patterns:

  • Defendant (D) repeatedly follows and watches Target (T) as they walk to and from their car to their office, gym, grocery store, and home;
  • D calls T every morning and hangs up as soon as they answer;
  • D calls T every morning and says, “Hello, beautiful” when T answers; and
  • D calls T every morning and says, “Die” when T answers.

Each of these fact patterns involves repeated and unwelcome behaviors that, depending on the circumstances, could cause a reasonable person to experience fear and thus violate a state’s stalking statute.115E.g., Colo. Rev. Stat. § 18-3-602(1)(c) (2022) (making it unlawful “[r]epeatedly [to] follow[], approach[], contact[], place[] under surveillance, or make[] any form of communication with another person” in “a manner that would cause a reasonable person to suffer serious emotional distress and does cause that person . . . to suffer serious emotional distress”). But some of the fact patterns do so in ways that involve no communication—or if they do involve communication, they do so regardless of the communication’s content.

In short, as this Section explains, the government’s prosecution of conduct normally triggers no First Amendment review. If a defendant nevertheless seeks to challenge the prosecution of conduct on First Amendment grounds, the defendant would have to establish that their conduct was sufficiently expressive to warrant First Amendment protection. If a court determines the conduct to be expressive, then intermediate scrutiny applies. If a defendant challenges the content-neutral prosecution of speech (for example, repeated and unwelcome communications regardless of any threatening content), then again intermediate scrutiny applies. These analyses can, and should, foreground targets’, as well as speakers’, free speech interests.

  1. Stalking That Takes the Form of Conduct Only

Fact patterns A (repeatedly following and watching the target) and B (repeatedly dialing the target’s phone number and hanging up without speaking) involve stalking that takes the form of repeated unwelcome conduct, not speech, since the speaker makes no oral or written communication. Consider these additional illustrations of such courses of conduct: a speaker that “send[s] envelopes of unknown white powder to the victim in the mail;” “repeatedly infect[s] the victim’s computers with viruses;” “open[s] unwanted on-line dating profiles under the victim’s identity;” or “arrange[s] every day for deliveries to be made at the victim’s home at all hours of the night.”116United States v. Ackell, 907 F.3d 67, 73 (1st Cir. 2018) (discussing how stalking often takes the form of conduct rather than speech).

Here, the government seeks to regulate what the defendant did, not what they said.117See Rumsfeld v. F. for Acad. & Institutional Rts., Inc., 547 U.S. 47, 60 (2006) (explaining that federal law regulates “conduct, not speech” when “[i]t affects what law schools must do—afford equal access to military recruiters—not what they may or may not say”). (As Genevieve Lakier and Evelyn Douek explain, “the term stalking was borrowed from the hunting context to emphasize the similarities between the way a hunter stalks their prey and the practices of surveillance and following that characterized the first well-publicized stalking cases.”118Lakier & Douek, supra note 2, at 147.) Stalking laws thus frequently address conduct with only incidental burdens on expression—triggering (and generally satisfying) no more than intermediate scrutiny.

More specifically, the First Amendment analysis of the government’s regulation of such repeated and unwelcome conduct should either be rational basis review (if the court determines the conduct to be nonexpressive) or intermediate scrutiny (if the court determines the conduct to be expressive).119Rumsfeld, 547 U.S. at 65–66 (considering whether regulated conduct is sufficiently expressive to trigger First Amendment review). Determining whether regulated conduct is sufficiently expressive to trigger intermediate scrutiny generally turns on whether the actor intends to communicate a message through their conduct and whether onlookers reasonably understand the actor to be delivering a message through their conduct.120Texas v. Johnson, 491 U.S. 397, 404 (1989); Spence v. Washington, 418 U.S. 405, 410–11 (1974) (per curiam).

When a speaker repeatedly follows and watches their target, do they intend to communicate a message, and does their target understand them to be communicating a message? If, depending on the facts, the answer is “no,” deferential rational basis review will apply to the government’s enforcement.121E.g., Corrigan v. State, No. A23-1942, 2024 Minn. App. Unpub. LEXIS 604 at *10 (Minn. Ct. App. July 22, 2024) (“[The challenger’s] conviction here was based on his conduct in following, monitoring, or pursuing the other driver and not on the content of his expressions or speech. Thus, the holding in Counterman does not apply to [his] case.”). Perhaps some will take the view, however, that this conduct is expressive. For example, a speaker who repeatedly calls and hangs up on their target without saying anything (maybe only breathing heavily) might seek to send, and might be understood as communicating, a message of possessiveness, hostility, or even love toward the target such that application of the stalking law regulates repeated and unwelcome conduct that incidentally burdens expression.122See United States v. O’Brien, 391 U.S. 367 (1968) (applying intermediate scrutiny to the government’s restriction of expressive conduct and holding that the law satisfied such scrutiny because it was narrowly tailored to the government’s significant regulatory interest). Here, too, the First Amendment analysis should remain attentive to the target’s expressive interests. For example, the application of stalking law to this conduct satisfies intermediate scrutiny when the government’s regulatory interests are unrelated to the suppression of ideas and when the enforcement action instead seeks to address the life-disrupting—including speech-silencing—effects of conduct that has little if any First Amendment value of its own.123See R.A.V. v. City of St. Paul, 505 U.S. 377, 390 (1992) (“Where the government does not target conduct on the basis of its expressive content, acts are not shielded from regulation merely because they express a discriminatory idea or philosophy.”); Wisconsin v. Mitchell, 508 U.S. 476, 487 (1993) (explaining that state hate crimes statute targets violent conduct unprotected by First Amendment).

The Supreme Court’s analysis of First Amendment challenges to the enforcement of hate crimes laws to punish certain acts of violence illustrates these dynamics. Even when a defendant’s violence might seek to communicate, and be understood as communicating, a message of hatred based on the target’s protected class status, the Court has described hate crimes laws as the government’s constitutionally permissible regulation of conduct.124Mitchell, 508 U.S. at 487. Along the same lines, the Court has stated that the First Amendment poses no bar to the government’s regulation of verbal harassment in the workplace that “produce[s] a violation of Title VII’s general prohibition against sexual discrimination in employment practices.”125R.A.V., 505 U.S. at 389–90. In these cases, the Court did not state whether the regulated conduct—violent hate crimes and workplace harassment—was sufficiently expressive to trigger intermediate scrutiny, suggesting instead that the conduct did not merit First Amendment protection regardless of the review applied.126See id.; see also Mitchell, 508 U.S. at 487. Lower courts have taken similar approaches, for example, when holding that laws prohibiting the physical obstruction of reproductive health care facilities to ensure access to lawful health care services satisfy intermediate scrutiny even though the regulated obstruction may seek to communicate a message and be understood as communicating a message.127Terry v. Reno, 101 F.3d 1412, 1419 (D.C. Cir. 1996).

  1. Stalking That Takes the Form of Communications That Instill Fear Regardless of Their Content

Turn next to stalking prosecutions of communications that cause fear because of their repeated and unwelcome nature—in other words, because of those communications’ frequency, volume, or persistence rather than their content.128See Counterman v. Colorado, 143 S. Ct. 2106, 86 (Sotomayor, J., concurring in part and concurring in the judgment) (“The content of the repeated communications can sometimes be irrelevant, such as persistently calling someone and hanging up, or a stream of ‘utterly prosaic’ communications.” (quoting Id. at 2111–12)); State v. Labbe, 314 A.3d 162, 179–80 (Me. 2024) (“The ‘course of conduct’ for which [the defendant] was indicted and convicted involved a series of electronic communications—phone calls and texts—to the victim during a period of several weeks. Viewed in the context of the record as a whole, the stalking charge here was not predicated on the content of those communications but rather on the act of communicating itself—the repeated, unwelcome contact carried out through electronic devices—even after he was asked to stop; even after his possessions were returned; and even after he had been served with a protection order prohibiting him from having any direct or indirect contact with the victim. . . . This is plainly evident from the record. The content of the calls and messages was not threatening (‘utterly prosaic’); some were devoid of meaningful content; some were unanswered or were merely hang-ups; one consisted of dead air and just breathing.”). This can be the case, for example, of fact pattern C, where the defendant called the target every day with prosaic messages like “Hello beautiful.” Or by leaving a daily message on the target’s answering machine playing the target’s favorite song. Along the same lines, consider a speaker who made:

“multiple [phone calls] throughout the evening, often ‘back-to-back,’ ” and “into the early morning hours,” despite being told that he “needed to stop calling” and “I don’t want you calling this house anymore.” When the complainant unplugged her phone, the defendant then called each of her parents and he was again told not to call. A few days later, he showed up at the complainant’s apartment building and “stood outside for a couple of minutes,” until he was directed to leave by security. Then he returned the following day again, and “security informed him that he was not permitted in the building.” Several months later, he again placed “nonstop calls” to the complainant from 1:30 a.m. to 3:00 a.m., and during that time he again showed up to the complainant’s apartment and tried calling her from the apartment’s call box. He then tried sneaking into the apartment building to get to the complainant, but was again thwarted. Notice that we have not said one word about the content of the defendant’s speech . . . because it was immaterial to his stalking conviction. He could have been trying to sell his victim a vacuum cleaner and the above actions would still have amounted to stalking.129Mashaud v. Boone, 295 A.3d 1139, 1161 (D.C. 2023) (citations omitted) (describing the facts in Atkinson v. United States, 121 A.3d 780 (D.C. 2015)).

The content-neutral regulation of such repeated and unwelcome communications again triggers intermediate scrutiny, in which courts again assess whether the restriction is narrowly tailored to serve a significant government interest. Courts undertaking this intermediate scrutiny consider, among other things, whether the government’s content-neutral regulation leaves open ample alternative means of expression.130See Frisby v. Schultz, 487 U.S. 474, 484–88 (1988) (upholding a town’s content-neutral ban on picketing targeted at specific homes as narrowly tailored to achieve the government’s significant interest in protecting residential privacy, especially because it left untouched ample alternative means of communication like distributing literature door-to-door). Moreover, the Supreme Court has made clear that the government’s content-neutral speech regulation “need not be the least restrictive or least intrusive means of” achieving its interests; instead, the government’s content-neutral regulation of speech satisfies intermediate scrutiny when it advances a substantial government interest that would otherwise be achieved less effectively.131Ward v. Rock Against Racism, 491 U.S. 781, 798–99 (1989).

Here, too, this analysis can and should foreground targets’—not just speakers’—free speech interests. The content-neutral application of stalking law to repeated and unwelcome communications regardless of their content satisfies intermediate scrutiny when the government’s regulatory interests are unrelated to the suppression of ideas and when the enforcement action instead seeks to address the life-disrupting—including speech-silencing—effects of repeated and unwelcome communications. That the traditional self-help remedies of exit and voice are so often ineffective—and indeed, frequently dangerous—for their targets further support the enforcement of stalking law as a narrowly tailored response.

  1. Stalking That Takes the Form of Threatening Speech

Depending on the circumstances, fact pattern D (daily messages telling the target to “die”) might support a content-neutral stalking prosecution based on the communications’ repeated and unwelcome time, place, and manner, regardless of their content. And depending on the circumstances, fact pattern D may also support prosecution as true threats, which now requires proof of the defendant’s conscious disregard of the risk that his statements were causing his target to fear for her physical safety in addition to proof of each of the statutory elements. Note that these two possibilities require prosecutors and plaintiffs, as a strategic matter, to choose between distinct theories that trigger different First Amendment analyses.132See Lakier & Douek, supra note 2, at 203 (“[L]ike most stalking laws, the Colorado law under which Counterman was convicted not only requires that the emotionally distressing communications be made on multiple occasions but also requires proof that those speech acts have a significant emotionally distressing effect on their recipient, and reasonably so. All of these requirements cabin the reach of the law and ensure that what it punishes is sustained and abusive communication, not an isolated, and therefore potentially misconstrued, speech act.”).

  1. Stalking That Involves Both Conduct and Speech

The foregoing examples illustrate how the variety of repeated and unwelcome behaviors that constitute stalking can invite enforcement under different theories that trigger distinct First Amendment analyses. Some fact patterns involve repeated and unwelcome fear-inducing conduct—and, depending on the facts, that conduct may or may not be expressive. Some involve repeated and unwelcome speech that induces fear not because of its content but because of its repeated and unwelcome time, place, or manner. Some involve repeated and unwelcome speech that induces fear at least in part because of its threatening content.133See, e.g., State v. Lindell, 828 N.W.2d 1, 2–3 (Iowa 2013) (upholding stalking conviction based on repeated contact that included both speech and conduct like a “handwritten note and flowers,” “hang-up calls,” physical surveillance, and damage to personal property). And some fact patterns may involve combinations that invite prosecutors and plaintiffs to make strategic choices among multiple theories.134Again, theories that do not rely on evidence of speech of a threatening nature as an element of the case do not trigger Counterman’s recklessness requirement. But see Lakier & Douek, supra note 2, at 169 (expressing skepticism that stalking laws can be applied to communications in content-neutral ways, and canvassing the relevant regulatory tradition to suggest the possibility of a category of less-protected “unwanted, persistent and fear-producing speech” in which some showing of mens rea like recklessness might still be required). Whatever the First Amendment analysis, however, it should include attention to targets’, as well as defendants’, expressive interests.

Conclusion

Speakers who fear the prospect of the government’s punishment often express themselves less—or express themselves differently—than they would if they were not fearful. This, in turn, harms the speaker’s and the public’s First Amendment interests by stifling the delivery of opinions, facts, and ideas.

At the same time, targets fearful for their physical safety at the hands of a speaker often speak less, and speak differently, than they would if they were not fearful. And this, too, harms both the target’s and the public’s First Amendment interests.

Fear, and speech, are thus on both sides of threats cases and also many stalking cases. Courts’ doctrinal choices in threats and stalking cases sometimes chill speakers’ expression. And sometimes they instead permit the silencing of targets’ speech. A robust commitment to free speech, in my view, requires attention not only to the speech deterred by legal standards that are too quick to punish speakers but also to the speech silenced when the law fails adequately to protect the targets of threats and stalking from reasonable fear for their safety.

When courts ignore targets’ free speech interests to privilege defendants’ free speech interests, they pretend to make hard First Amendment problems easy. But principled problem-solving requires that we take care to recognize and explain what makes difficult problems difficult, as is the case here, where we must choose between speakers’ and targets’ important free speech interests.

Courts must, and do, make choices all the time when calibrating the categories of unprotected speech (for example, in true threats cases), and when otherwise applying First Amendment doctrine (for instance, in stalking cases that do not allege true threats). The Court’s choice in Counterman to privilege speakers’ free speech interests over targets’ was a choice—but that choice was neither inevitable nor necessarily speech-protective. When we illuminate, rather than obscure, the free speech injuries experienced by the targets of threats and stalking, we can identify doctrinal choices that attend to targets’ expressive interests as well as defendants’.

 

98 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1351

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*  University Distinguished Professor and Rothgerber Chair in Constitutional Law, University of Colorado School of Law. Thanks to RonNell Andersen Jones, Nelson Tebbe, Alan Chen, Danielle Keats Citron, Yasmin Dawood, Margot Kaminski, Christina Koningisor, Margaret Kwoka, Genevieve Lakier, Lyrissa Lidsky, Toni Massaro, Joe Michaels, Francesca Procaccini, Blake Reid, Scott Skinner-Thompson, Phil Weiser, and the participants at Yale Law School’s Free Expression Scholars Conference and the University of Southern California Gould School of Law’s symposium on “The First Amendment and Listener Interests” for their insightful comments and questions. Thanks, too, to Kenzie Larrenaga, Devin Schultze, Olivia Sharp, and Claire Power Tate for outstanding research assistance.

Remarks on Academic Freedom and Free Speech: Reflections on Blocher

Joseph Blocher’s article is a rich contribution to our thinking about campus speech.1Joseph Blocher, Listening on Campus: Academic Freedom and Its Audiences, 98 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1161 (2025). It takes the academic endeavor seriously—both for its rights and for its responsibilities—while simultaneously warning of its fragility under the threat of strong free speech claims.

Professor Blocher struck a poignant note with his insight that the value of academic freedom needs defending. He reminds us that public trust in academic judgment is diminished or gone. That is a devastating observation because if campus speech problems are to be addressed responsibly, it is only academic judgment that will get us there. Without trust in it, solutions seem elusive.

But his article sounds the alarm, warning that efforts to address the complex conundrums posed by campus speech—if beholden to only the values of free speech and listener interests—can in fact strain, and even threaten, the independence that universities need to exist as centers of teaching and intellectual engagement. To shed light on this threat, we must frankly confront and seek to understand free speech and academic freedom as separate values, each playing an important role in sustaining a democratic polity—but in different ways.

There is little need to rehearse the familiar rationales for free speech, which assert its importance to the pursuit of truth through a competition often called the “marketplace of ideas”;2ed Lion Broad. Co. v. FCC, 395 U.S. 367, 390 (1969) (citing Abrams v. United States, 250 U.S. 616, 630 (1919) (Holmes, J., dissenting)). its value to democratic self-rule;3Alexander Meiklejohn, Free Speech and Its Relation to Self-Government 93–94 (1948). and its role in assuring individual fulfillment, a core aspect of human dignity.4Thomas I. Emerson, Toward a General Theory of the First Amendment, 72 Yale L.J. 877, 879–81 (1963). Academic freedom, on the other hand, has different derivations and different justifications, not nearly so familiar. Just as free speech theory in the public domain is anchored on a theory of the government, speech in the university setting—along with its companion, academic freedom—must emanate from a theory of the university.

The university as an institution is conducted for the common good—not for its own good, and not for the good of any individuals who are part of it. Thus, unlike many other institutions that serve the public in other ways, society has considered it appropriate—since the founding of our nation—for the public to establish and fund universities, with the first public university (University of North Carolina) established in 1789.5History of the University, U.N.C. Chapel Hill, https://www.unc.edu/about/history-and-traditions [https://perma.cc/PX7Y-EAQY].

Benjamin Franklin confirmed that “[a]lmost all Governments have . . . made it a principal Object of their Attention, to establish and endow with proper Revenues, such Seminaries of Learning, as might supply the succeeding Age with Men qualified to serve the Publick with Honour to themselves, and to their Country.”6Benjamin Franklin, Proposals Relating to the Education of Youth in Pensilvania 5 (Univ. of Pa. Press 1931) (1749), https://archives.upenn.edu/digitized-resources/docs-pubs/franklin-proposals [https://perma.cc/67DE-WU7Z]. In Franklin’s vision, the public invests in the university and gleans returns in the form of graduates: an educated citizenry that is an asset to the common good.

But the mere fact that universities have been established and endowed with proper revenues by the government, as an investment in the betterment of society, does not automatically render those institutions equivalent to the government itself. This distinction is critical because the theories underlying free speech do not necessarily support equating universities with governments. Universities, while part of the polity, are not coextensive with government. Franklin’s statement suggests that governments, when they support institutions of higher learning, necessarily endow those institutions with the means to achieve their mission—the means to achieve the common good that Franklin described.

In its famous 1915 Declaration of Principles on Academic Freedom and Academic Tenure—which has shaped discussion of universities for over a century—the American Association of University Professors identified a university’s purpose as threefold: “to promote inquiry and advance the sum of human knowledge”; “to provide general instruction to the students”; and “to develop experts for various branches of the public service.”7Am. Ass’n of Univ. Professors, Appendix I: 1915 Declaration of Principles on Academic Freedom and Academic Tenure 295 (1915), https://www.aaup.org/NR/rdonlyres/A6520A9D-0A9A-47B3-B550-C006B5B224E7/0/1915Declaration.pdf [https://perma.cc/G3Z8-HE8L]. Even today, most university websites identify their mission as involving the creation and advancement of knowledge.8See, e.g., Mission Statement, Princeton Univ., https://www.princeton.edu/meet-princeton/mission-statement [https://perma.cc/F47B-FHDV] (“advances learning through scholarship, research, and teaching”); Mission Statement, MIT, https://www.mit.edu/about/mission-statement [https://perma.cc/K8HZ-RWZV] (“generating, disseminating, and preserving knowledge”); Who We Are, Stan. Univ., https://www.stanford.edu/about [https://perma.cc/F3DF-DY3A] (“to create and share knowledge”). From that universal recognition of a core purpose comes a corresponding need: the government must promise not to interfere in academic judgment or undermine educational decisions, in exchange for the university’s contribution to the public good of education.9See Keyishian v. Bd. of Regents, 385 U.S. 589, 603–04 (1967). The institution itself is properly understood to be the holder of academic freedom, a “special concern of the First Amendment, which does not tolerate laws that cast a pall of orthodoxy over the classroom.”10Id. at 603. Academic freedom thus insulates the academy from government or politics for the betterment of the common good. As Justice Felix Frankfurter suggested in a famous concurring opinion, “ ‘the four essential freedoms’ of a university [are] to determine for itself on academic grounds who may teach, what may be taught, how it shall be taught, and who may be admitted to study.”11Sweezy v. New Hampshire, 354 U.S. 234, 263 (1957) (Frankfurter, J., concurring) (quoting Acad. Freedom Comms. of the Univ. of Cape Town & the Univ. of the Witwatersrand, Johannesburg, The Open Universities in South Africa and Academic Freedom 1957–74, at 10–12 (1974)).

But the goal of this Comment is to push harder on the question of what governments transmit to universities in addition to a degree of independence known as academic freedom. I would submit that there is no reason to assume that governments also pass along to universities the separate obligation to adhere to the free speech paradigm applicable to government itself and the public sphere in general. Indeed, there are very good reasons not to do so.

A key tenet of Blocher’s article is that free speech principles and academic freedom principles are not the same thing and can work in tension with one another. This clash, I submit, comes from a reflexive transplanting of doctrines designed to function in different settings. That is not to say free speech has no place in the academy. Rather, we should ask: where do free speech obligations come from with regard to a university?

The simple answer is that the Supreme Court has long held that the First Amendment’s protection of free speech applies fully to public universities.12Healy v. James, 408 U.S. 169, 180–81 (1972). But I believe that the Court made a category mistake in its holding, and so I would like to think further about what the right answer ought to be with regard to the question of free speech obligations for universities.

The better answer, in my view, is that universities do not take on the constitutional obligations of free speech that governments hold. But what about the importance of free speech for academic discourse? While a form of free inquiry and communication is essential to the academic enterprise, its success also depends on judgments about the truth of speech that are utterly inconsistent with the idea of unregulated speech in society at large. Robert Post, who has developed one of the most comprehensive accounts of academic freedom,13For representative works by Robert Post on academic freedom, see generally Robert C. Post, Democracy, Expertise, Academic Freedom: A First Amendment Jurisprudence for the Modern State (2012) [hereinafter Post, Democracy, Expertise, Academic Freedom]; Matthew W. Finkin & Robert C. Post, For the Common Good: Principles of American Academic Freedom (2009); Robert Post, The Structure of Academic Freedom, in Academic Freedom After September 11th 61 (Beshara Doumani ed., 2006); Robert Post, Debating Disciplinarity, 35 Critical Inquiry 749 (2009). offers a persuasive illustration: “Although the First Amendment would prohibit government from regulating the New York Times if the newspaper were inclined to editorialize that the moon is made of green cheese, no astronomy department could survive if it were prevented from denying tenure to a young scholar who was similarly convinced.”14Post, Democracy, Expertise, Academic Freedom, supra note 13, at 67.

My argument is that freedom of speech is best understood not as a free-standing obligation of universities as it is for governments; rather, free speech in the university setting is subsumed within academic freedom, properly understood. With this nesting of dominance, free speech and academic freedom can avoid the catastrophic collision course that Professor Blocher describes. Both free speech and academic freedom are separate but related means designed to further the noble purpose of the academy.

The University of Chicago’s Foundational Principles attest that a university has a “commitment to free, robust, and uninhibited debate and deliberation among all members of the University’s community.”15The Comm. on Free Expression, Univ. of Chi. Off. of the Provost, Report of the Committee on Freedom of Expression (2015), https://provost.uchicago.edu/sites/default/files/documents/reports/FOECommitteeReport.pdf [https://perma.cc/U4MD-FHUJ] [hereinafter Chicago Principles]. Many scholars agree that the central purpose of a university is, first and foremost, to facilitate disagreement across differences.16See Erwin Chemerinsky & Howard Gillman, Free Speech on Campus 51–52 (2018) (describing modern view of a university as a place in which “beliefs should be tested by free-thinking human beings . . . after engaging in debate and experimentation”); Prof. Geoffrey Stone Discusses Free Speech on Campus at the American Law Institute, Univ. of Chi. L. Sch., https://www.law.uchicago.edu/news/prof-geoffrey-stone-discusses-free-speech-campus-american-law-institute [https://perma.cc/6QPQ-3Z47] (fostering debate is an “essential part of the University’s educational mission”). These tropes are commonly taken as evidence that free speech is a critical value to universities. The words do suggest a free speech value, and certainly some universities and scholars have interpreted them that way—that universities are indistinguishable from public fora for speech.17See Chemerinsky & Gillman, supra note 16, at xx–xxi, 75–78 (arguing for a robust application of free speech principles to universities).

But the words are misleading. In my view, the commitment to debate and deliberation that Chicago rightly identifies as defining the educational mission of a university does not derive from the First Amendment at all. Indeed, I suggest that the free speech value is not a consequence of the First Amendment. Rather, it is a component part of the educational mission of colleges and universities.

Disagreement, engagement, communication—they are all forms of speech. However, that is not why they are central to academia; they are critical to universities because they are essential aspects of the learning process, and to the production and dissemination of knowledge, and thus fall under the rubric of the university’s commitment to academic freedom. It is wrong to assume that, because education requires speech, free speech holds an independent power within the university. That error influenced the Supreme Court, animates many of the critiques of universities, and has led to the problems that Professor Blocher identifies in his article. There should be only one overarching existential value guiding the university: the umbrella known as the pursuit of the educative mission and its guardian, academic freedom.

As Professor Blocher has so ably shown, free speech untethered from its relationship with academic freedom can become a threat to it. Thus, in the university setting, free speech should be considered subservient to academic freedom. To the extent that free speech values can validly claim a place in the university, they do so only to further the legitimate goals of education—goals that free speech supports rather than controls.

This is not the place to make a full-throated defense of the claim that the First Amendment should not apply to universities, public or private—but the concluding discussion will suggest a nod in that direction.

For one thing, the stakes are very different between speech regulation by a university and speech regulation by a government. When a university in some way restricts speech—whether it be a student’s placard in the quad or a white supremacist speaker’s rant at a campus rally—the regulation does not limit speech outside the university’s gates and thus causes significantly less potential speech harm than a government law that regulates speech in the world. The student is free to wave a placard out on the public sidewalk, and the speaker can conduct a rally at a public park.

Why would we assume that universities are public fora for speech? Listener interests, one might reply—people on campus need to be able to hear unfettered speech to achieve the knowledge and training that they seek. But I would respond that the university’s job is to consider the legitimate listener interests in the enterprise of academic engagement. Indeed, as Professor Blocher emphasizes, listener interests are really at the heart of the educational enterprise.

But the university owes no duty to listeners as such, separate from what contributes to the educational mission. If it does owe a duty to permit certain speakers, it is not because the speaker is entitled to speak to the students, or because the students are entitled to hear from every possible speaker. Rather, the duty is to support the acquisition of knowledge and to support speakers who contribute to that enterprise. This would leave out, for example, the people Professor Blocher calls “provocateurs who have no business speaking in an academic setting to begin with.”18Blocher, supra note 1, at 1162. The university simply is not the public square.

Additionally, of course, the final cause of government is very different from that of universities. The Constitution protects free speech to support self-government, informed democracy, and civic virtue. The university has

a different purpose, which is not always compatible with free speech for its own sake.

The protection of listeners is absolutely core to the academic mission of a university; knowledge cannot be attained, improved, or shared without the inculcation and practice of listening. Listening, critically evaluating what is heard, and engaging in meaningful dialogue are the processes by which learning occurs. Speech and listening are the lifeblood of the university, and they are a blood that nourishes its soul.

For example, if a university believes that hate speech is interfering with learning by causing conflict and insecurity among targeted students, it should have the power to limit expression to the degree necessary to prevent a genuine interference with learning, something that hampers the constructive debate and mutual respect that are essential to true academic engagement. This result is antithetical to the free-speech paradigm.19See Chemerinsky & Gillman, supra note 16, at 103 (claiming that hate speech regulation on campus both is and should be prohibited by the First Amendment).

Indeed, the Chicago Principles addressing campus speech explicitly reject any special accommodations to protect targets of hate speech, on the ground that unrestricted speech is the value to which they are committed. But I suggest that they should not be committed to that value if it conflicts with the academic mission. Universities have a core duty to manage speech to promote the advancement of knowledge, not sacrifice it in the name of unrestricted speech.

So, does this help at all with Professor Blocher’s powerful point about how the value of the academic enterprise, including its speech, is contested now and suffers low public regard? Perhaps in this very subtle way: Free speech is often touted as a right—as a sword, not a shield—and those inside and outside of academia are heard shouting, “I have the right to say it, so I am going to say it, and the university cannot keep me from saying it.”20See Defending Your Rights: Reforming College Policies, FIRE, https://www.thefire.org/defending-your-rights/reforming-college-policies [https://perma.cc/JU7U-8U7C] (working “to proactively and systematically challenge campus policies that violate college students’ and faculty members’ free speech rights”). With free speech in charge, there is less obligation to justify one’s claims. One can make any outrageous, false, offensive, and/or anti-intellectual statement, based solely on the right to speak. In such a scenario, the professional, empirical, or scientific basis for a claim is not offered—is not demanded—because, under the First Amendment, it is not required. But for the academic enterprise, justification is always required. Thus, when the free speech model overcomes the academic model, the terms of debate veer away from any foundation that might inspire trust. This can degrade the currency of academic judgment.

If we could move to a paradigm where universities were thought of more as enclaves governed by the ethos of academic integrity—where speech is justified and tested in dialectic, rather than as a contest of who can yell louder or be more provocative—perhaps there could be more of an emphasis on what Professor Blocher has persuasively defended as “justified true belief.”21See Joseph Blocher, Free Speech and Justified True Belief, 133 Harv. L. Rev. 439, 444 (2019) (setting forth a knowledge-based account of free speech). In the academic setting, the goal is not an unregulated marketplace of ideas but rather a shared quest for knowledge. This underscores the obligation of the academy to ensure dialectic and responsiveness—give and take—as much as protecting speakers as such.

In this world in which ideas are often communicated in the form of twenty-second TikTok videos, memes, and tweets, one thing that has suffered is reasoned argument—or even reasons, period. Conspiracy theories catch on precisely because they lack a foundation in justified true belief and fail to be subject to robust interrogation. This is the free-speech paradigm at work. But in the academic enclave, I wonder whether re-emphasizing academic freedom and de-emphasizing free speech might help restore to academic expertise the appearance of justification and, in turn, public value.

There are pragmatic objections to how such a regime would be implemented, and this brief Comment does not aim to resolve them. The aim was rather to plant the seed of a model of campus speech that nests free speech within an emboldened concept of academic freedom, making free speech the handmaiden of academic freedom, rather than its antagonist.

98 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1379

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* The Rader Family Trustee Chair in Law, University of Southern California. This Comment was prepared for the SCLR Symposium 2024: The First Amendment and Listener Interests, November 8–9, 2024. I am grateful to Erin Miller and Bob Rasmussen for comments.

Pluralism and Listeners’ Choices Online

“The plain, if at times disquieting, truth is that in our pluralistic society, constantly proliferating new and ingenious forms of expression, ‘we are inescapably captive audiences for many purposes.’ ”1Erznoznik v. City of Jacksonville, 422 U.S. 205, 210 (1975) (quoting Rowan v. U.S. Post Off. Dep’t, 397 U.S. 728, 736 (1970)).

The speech and technology world has changed dramatically, even unimaginably, since Justice Powell penned these words about drive-in movie theaters. In attempting to grapple with this quandary in the contemporary era, James Grimmelmann offers us the provocative and original paper, Listeners’ Choices Online.2James Grimmelmann, Listeners’ Choices Online, 98 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1231 (2025) [hereinafter, Listeners’ Choices Online]. His contribution to this Symposium builds on earlier work in which he argues for a theoretical approach to free speech that makes listeners’ interests the central focus of First Amendment doctrine.3James Grimmelmann, Listeners’ Choices, 90 U. Colo. L. Rev. 365, 365, 372–73 (2019). As he argues in the earlier paper, freedom of expression involves what he calls a “matching problem”—ideally lining up speakers with listeners who want to hear their expression, but not with listeners who do not.4Id. at 366.

The current paper is simultaneously both too complex and too nuanced to adequately summarize in this brief Comment, but here are a few of his main points as I interpret them, and that my comments will address.

  • Facilitating matching between willing speakers and willing listeners is the goal of a system of free speech. In that regard, “listeners’ choices matter more than speakers’.. . . A consistent

commitment to protecting these willing speaker-listener pairs results in a system of First Amendment law that regularly defers to listeners’ choices.”5Id.

  • Applying that model resolves some of the important First Amendment questions arising from the regulation of contemporary electronic speech media.
  • It is useful to disaggregate communication media into four types, each of which presents distinct matching challenges: (1) Broadcast (television, radio, cable); (2) Delivery (telephone, email, messaging); (3) Hosting (providers of space for speech, but not engaged in speech themselves); and (4) Selection (directing listeners to specific content via algorithms based on the perception of listener preferences).6Listeners’ Choices Online, supra note 2, at 1249–64. Currently, hosting and selection functions are frequently combined, though that does not have to be so.7Id. at 1265.
  • Selection intermediaries play a key role in determining what listeners hear or see. This is an essential function because the sheer volume of speech available on the Internet creates otherwise insurmountable attention scarcity problems for listeners.8Id. at 1261–62.
  • This listeners’ choice model allows for limited regulatory interventions on the media’s selection functions that would not violate the First Amendment.
  • It would violate the First Amendment for regulators to prohibit intermediaries from offering listeners the ability to choose what speakers to listen to because that interferes with listeners’ right to listen.9Id. at 1265.
  • However, the government may permissibly intervene when a search engine (or, presumably, other selection intermediary) is dishonest or disloyal to its users, “when it shows them results that (objectively) differ from the engine’s own (subjective) judgment about what the users are likely to find relevant,”10Id. at 1261. because that also interferes with listeners’ interests.
  • It would also be permissible to have a rule requiring pure selection intermediaries to treat first-party content evenhandedly with content posted by third parties.11Id. at 1264–66.
  • “Seeing the Internet from listeners’ perspective is a radical leap. It requires making claims about the nature of speech and about where power lies online that seem counterintuitive if you are coming from the standard speaker-oriented First Amendment tradition. But once you have made that leap, and everything has snapped into focus again, it is impossible to unsee.”12Id. at 1282.

There is much to admire in Professor Grimmelmann’s paper. It makes a number of important and original contributions to thinking about the regulation of social media and is in many parts completely persuasive. First, consistent with the objective of this Symposium, it highlights listeners’ interests as a basis to evaluate the American system of freedom of expression. It is indisputable that the Supreme Court and legal scholars have underappreciated the role of listeners’ interests in articulating First Amendment doctrine.13But see Leslie Kendrick, Are Speech Rights for Speakers?, 103 Va. L. Rev. 1767, 1775–79 (2017) (observing that although much First Amendment doctrine is expressed in terms of protecting speaker interests, in many cases the resulting legal framework is ultimately designed with listeners in mind). That argument does not, of course, detract from the proposition that we have much to learn from focusing more explicitly on listeners’ interests. The primary context in which the Supreme Court expressly considers listener interests involves unwilling listeners as captive audiences, but those are the only cases that place listeners’ interests at center stage.14See, e.g., Erznoznick v. City of Jacksonville, 422 U.S. 205, 210 (1975); Cohen v. California, 403 U.S. 15, 21–22 (1971). The Court has upheld legal rules that bar speakers from imposing speech on unwilling listeners when the listeners’ “substantial privacy interests are being invaded in an essentially intolerable manner.”15Cohen, 403 U.S. at 21. Even in captive audience situations, as Grimmelmann points out, under current doctrine the interests of willing listeners will sometimes outweigh the rights of unwilling listeners, particularly if it is easy for the latter to avoid the speech.16Listeners’ Choices Online, supra note 2, at 1271–73.

Listeners’ Choices Online also offers us a way out of the ongoing effort to find the appropriate perspective through which to evaluate how First Amendment doctrine should apply to the contemporary media environment. Much recent scholarship has struggled with this question, with legal scholars sometimes seeking to find appropriate analogies from regulation of past communication technologies to justify a legal framework for thinking about the regulation of social media platforms.17See, e.g., Jack M. Balkin, How to Regulate (and Not Regulate) Social Media, 1 J. Free Speech L. 71, 89–96 (2021). Is cable television like traditional television and radio broadcast media? Does regulation of telephone services offer any insight into how we ought to regulate digital communications? Is Facebook more like a parade or a shopping mall? Can social media companies be treated like common carriers, subjecting them to greater regulatory constraints than would otherwise be permissible to impose on private companies engaged in speech?18       See, e.g., Ashutosh Bhagwat, Why Social Media Platforms Are Not Common Carriers, 2 J. Free Speech L. 127, 151–56 (2022); Eugene Volokh, Treating Social Media Platforms Like Common Carriers?, 1 J. Free Speech L. 377, 454–62 (2021).

None of the analogies work perfectly, however, because each different electronic speech medium bears some distinguishing features that complicate the analysis.19See Gregory M. Dickinson, Beyond Social Media Analogues, 99 N.Y.U. L. Rev. 109, 116–23 (2024) (criticizing the analogy-based approach to establishing norms for regulating social media). Some, as the article points out, are mere vessels for delivery of content, while others engage in important speech-impacting selection decisions that help listeners sort through the onslaught of online content, but, in doing so, may affect listeners’ interests by providing them content they do not want to hear or directing them away from content they would welcome.20See Listeners’ Choices Online, supra note 2, at 1287–88.

The Supreme Court has only just dipped its toes in the water, in its dicta in last term’s Moody v. NetChoice, LLC, with the majority opinion stating unequivocally that “[l]ike the editors, cable operators, and parade organizers this Court has previously considered, the major social-media platforms are in the business, when curating their feeds, of combining ‘multifarious voices’ to create a distinctive expressive offering.”21Moody v. NetChoice, LLC, 144 S. Ct. 2383, 2405 (2024) (quoting Hurley v. Irish-Am. Gay, Lesbian & Bisexual Grp. of Bos., Inc., 515 U.S. 557, 569 (1995)). But as Grimmelmann points out, that is looking at the challenged state laws exclusively from the platforms’ perspective, and not the listeners’.22Listeners’ Choices Online, supra note 2, at 1262–64.

Rather than attempting to argue purely by analogy with past regulations of earlier media technologies, Grimmelmann’s paper elegantly uses listeners’ interests and choices as an organizing principle that cuts across these different media to create a coherent First Amendment model for evaluating media regulations. He suggests that focusing on these interests allows us to see more clearly the competing speech interests involved in ways that the purely analogical approach simply cannot. His listeners’ choice theory emphasizes matching speakers to willing listeners, which can be accomplished by structural designs, by some content neutral government regulation, and, in part, by requiring the separation of hosting and selection functions in ways that maximize these speaker-listener connections.23Id. at 1232–37, 1265–67.

While Professor Grimmelmann’s model is intriguing and helps us think about media regulation in useful ways, I offer three modest thoughts, two focused on whether, in some circumstances, prioritizing listeners’ rights may come at the expense of other important First Amendment values, and one questioning whether there is a need for further promoting listeners’ choices on social media given the increasing market for niche social media sites.24I am also unconvinced that Grimmelmann’s model is generalizable beyond the electronic media context. However, that is not the ambition of his paper.

  1. Prioritizing Listeners’ Choices May Diminish Public Discourse

First, permitting limited regulation of selection intermediaries to protect listeners’ interests could, in some cases, have deleterious effects on public discourse. Even the modest regulatory interventions that Grimmelmann suggests would be permissible to advance listeners’ interests could be leveraged to challenge selection intermediaries’ decisions to offer a more balanced, fact-checked feed to their subscribers. Or, even if those effects do not come to fruition, the very existence of regulatory interventions might deter selection intermediaries from experimenting with innovations to promote delivery of a greater diversity of content that does not cater purely to listeners’ interests.

Consider a hypothetical new platform calling itself Balanced Social Media (“BSM”). Following Grimmelmann’s model, let us assume that a different company is the host for BSM, which exclusively serves a selection function. BSM designs an algorithm that, for the most part, favors listeners’ choices of content, but adds three specific features that veer from the default rule. First, it builds in its own fact-checking mechanism that flags content posted by third-party users that may be objectively false or come from sources that have proven unreliable or inaccurate in the past. The BSM algorithm will still direct the user to that content, but the content will be marked with a red flag that warns the user that the factual foundation of the material may not be valid, and provides a link to a source that disputes the factual validity of the original post.

Second, the algorithm is designed to monitor users’ feeds to determine if they are seeking content that is unilaterally biased toward one particular ideology, for example, if a user reads only content posted by Fox News or MSNBC. If the algorithm identifies users who seek ideologically unbalanced content, it will occasionally feed such users some third-party content that comes from a dissimilar political perspective. This counter-ideological feed could come randomly or perhaps after the user has viewed ten consecutive stories from sources with their preferred ideological perspective.

Alternatively, BSM could instead offer a slightly less intrusive option under which, rather than posting counter-ideological content, BSM could give the user a warning or notice to the effect that the user has been reading content that is exclusively coming from sources with a specific political orientation and asking if the user would like to see something from a different perspective. This might operate in a manner like TikTok’s option for its users to set a daily screen time limit and be notified when they have reached that limit.25Screen Time, TikTok, https://support.tiktok.com/en/account-and-privacy/account-information/screen-time [https://perma.cc/5E64-3RTR]. Under my hypothetical, however, users would not be able to turn off this setting.

Third, BSM occasionally posts its own independent content on the platform that discusses issues regarding the responsible use of social media and the importance of ensuring that information is factually accurate before posting it. As with the counter-ideological posts, it will feed periodically into all users’ feeds. BSM users cannot opt out of any of these functions; though, of course, they may decide they do not want to use BSM. When users sign up to use BSM, they are fully informed about the algorithm’s functions, which they agree to as part of the Terms of Service (“TOS”). The TOS even says, “BSM offers a new vision of social media, one that will deliver content that you did not ask for, or even that you do not want to see (of course, we cannot make you read it, that is up to you!). The goal of our model is to expose all people to a range of ideologically diverse content.”

Grimmelmann’s model seems to suggest that lawmakers might be able to forbid BSM to adopt these innovative features because they do not fully promote listeners’ choices. The fact-checking flags and counter-ideological feeds are content that many users may not wish to see; indeed, they may be viscerally repelled by these posts, particularly if this interferes with their ability to experience the emotional resonance associated with speech that highlights their own world views.26On the emotional value associated with the consumption of even false information, see Alan K. Chen, Free Speech, Rational Deliberation, and Some Truths About Lies, 62 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 357, 423–24 (2020). He suggests that regulators may be able to restrict selection intermediaries’ use of such algorithms to the extent that “it shows [users] results that (objectively) differ from the engine’s own (subjective) judgment about what the users are likely to find relevant.”27Listeners’ Choices Online, supra note 2, at 1261. In fact, BSM’s model is designed to show user content they do not want to see. In Grimmelmann’s terms, the intermediary is being disloyal to its users (although because the algorithm’s functions are fully disclosed in the TOS, they can argue they are not being dishonest).28Id.

Moreover, the BSM-produced content (and maybe even the fact-checking posts) can be viewed as first-party content.29Another question worth considering is whether even paid advertising could be construed as first-party content. Even though it is produced by a third-party, which pays the selection intermediary to distribute its content, it is being promoted by the intermediary without regard to listener interests. Surely, selection intermediaries cannot be forbidden to prioritize advertising content or the entire economic model under which social media platforms operate would collapse. BSM is in some sense trying to compete in the social media market by offering a new way of delivering content. Would a pure listener-based approach result in such experiments being shut down by regulators because they are occasionally giving their first-party content priority over content posted by third parties?30Listeners’ Choices Online, supra note 2, at 1276–79. Grimmelmann qualifies this statement by saying this would apply to only pure selection intermediaries, so perhaps BSM would not be subject to regulation to the extent that it is holding itself out as a content producer as well as an intermediary. But even pure selection intermediaries might flag content with fact-checking warnings, and those posts presumably could be understood as promoting first-party content. That is, by feeding users first-party content in the form of sermons on the importance of truth in the responsible use of social media, has BSM interfered with listener choice? Because Moody holds that social media platforms are speakers when they make decisions about content moderation,31Moody v. NetChoice, LLC, 144 S. Ct. 2383, 2405–06 (2024). they are unquestionably speakers if they are producing their own content. How would Grimmelmann’s model address the tension between a regulation prohibiting BSM from prioritizing first-party content to protect listeners’ choice and the platform’s First Amendment speech rights?

To the disloyalty argument, Grimmelmann might respond that because BSM is transparent about its algorithm, it is not actually being disloyal or dishonest to its users.32That is, assuming all subscribers read and fully understand the TOS, which is highly unlikely. A 2017 study by Deloitte found that 91% of people consent to TOS agreements without reading them. For respondents aged 18–34, the percentage rose to 97%. See Jessica Guynn, What You Need to Know Before Clicking ‘I Agree’ on That Terms of Service Agreement or Privacy Policy, USA Today (Jan. 29, 2020, 2:21 PM), https://www.usatoday.com/story/tech/2020/01/28/not-reading-the-small-print-is-privacy-policy-fail/4565274002 [https://perma.cc/C2JQ-LHFQ]. Listeners who do not want this type of balanced approach can simply choose a different platform that better suits their listening tastes. However, while BSM is certainly giving listeners choice at the first level (platform selection), its model will inevitably result in some BSM users receiving speech at the second level (content selection) that they subjectively do not want to hear.

  1. Elevating Listeners’ Choices Could Encourage Information Silos

A closely related concern with a system of electronic media regulation focusing primarily on promoting listeners’ interests is whether such an emphasis could have the broader systemic effect of exacerbating ideological information silos even more than under the current system.33See, e.g., Dawn Carla Nunziato, The Marketplace of Ideas Online, 94 Notre Dame L. Rev. 1519, 1527 (2019). An important function of a system of free expression is, of course, promoting robust public discourse. Public discourse is inherently oppositional—speakers of different viewpoints must be able to engage each other for it to meaningfully occur.

In many cases, speakers desire to reach listeners whom they believe will be persuaded by their messages if those listeners only had an opportunity to hear them. Anti-abortion advocates may sincerely believe that if women considering abortions only had more information, they would make different choices. Protesters concerned about the humanitarian crisis associated with Israel’s military actions in Gaza would like to reach those who are unconditionally sympathetic to Israel’s right to defend itself because they think, with additional information, these listeners may modify their positions. On social media as well, speakers try to convince unwilling listeners of the virtues of their political positions. Preaching only to the converted does not facilitate healthy discourse.

Outside of the captive audience context, which is almost exclusively applied to unwanted speech in one’s home,34See Rowan v. U.S. Post Off. Dep’t, 397 U.S. 728, 738 (1970) (“That we are often ‘captives’ outside the sanctuary of the home and subject to objectionable speech and other sound does not mean we must be captives everywhere.” (quotation omitted)); But see FCC v. Pacifica Found., 438 U.S. 726, 730, 748 (1978) (upholding placement of Federal Communications Commission order indicating that licensed radio station “could have been the subject of administrative sanctions” for broadcasting program that violated FCC’s indecency regulations during daytime hours (quoting 56 F.C.C.2d 94, 99)); Lehman v. City of Shaker Heights, 418 U.S. 298, 302, 304 (1974) (holding that passengers on rapid transit street cars are captive audiences). Under Grimmelmann’s model (and in my view, as well), it would certainly seem that Pacifica was wrongly decided because favoring the unwilling listeners’ interests there meant cutting off speech to many willing listeners. Listeners’ Choices Online, supra note 2, at 1269–70. a key function of the First Amendment is served by advancing the interests of speakers to influence those who are not inclined to agree with them.35This is setting aside other narrow areas in which unwanted speech causes cognizable harms, such as with true threats. See Virginia v. Black, 538 U.S. 343, 359 (2003) (defining true threats, which are not protected under the First Amendment, as “statements where the speaker means to communicate a serious expression of an intent to commit an act of unlawful violence to a particular individual or group of individuals”). As the Supreme Court has recognized:

[Speech] may indeed best serve its high purpose when it induces a condition of unrest, creates dissatisfaction with conditions as they are, or even stirs people to anger. Speech is often provocative and challenging. It may strike at prejudices and preconceptions and have profound unsettling effects as it presses for acceptance of an idea.36Terminiello v. Chicago, 337 U.S. 1, 4 (1949).

These express values are in direct tension with a purely listener-based approach. This may be particularly true of speech on social media, which the Court has argued is one of the “most important places . . . for the exchange of views.”37Packingham v. North Carolina, 582 U.S. 98, 104 (2017).

Thus, a second concern I have with a model prioritizing listeners’ choices over speakers’ is that its application, in many contexts, may impede what we might describe as lawful, but uncomfortable, speech that is intended to persuade.38On the importance of persuasion as a free speech value, see generally David A. Strauss, Persuasion, Autonomy, and Freedom of Expression, 91 Colum. L. Rev. 334 (1991). If listeners can confine themselves only to speech they want to hear, even in the social media context, then prioritizing that interest can operate as a kind of quiet heckler’s veto. In a social media environment in which listeners’ choice prevails, it is hard to imagine how persuasion might work, either individually or collectively. Are there any situations involving such speech through media in which the default position is not valuing the listener over the speaker, and if so, how could that decision be implemented?

Perhaps our society is headed in this direction already given that, as Grimmelmann observes, even in the absence of regulation of selection intermediaries, listeners might deploy a combination of pure hosting platforms with middleware, a third-party software that allows them to customize their feeds at an even greater level of detail.39Listeners’ Choices Online, supra note 2, at 1279–81. While this, too, would benefit listeners’ choices, it would move us in the direction of a more atomized speech universe—which is not necessarily a good thing, but at least it would not be the product of government intervention.

  1. Market Responses Are Already Enhancing Listeners’ Choices

Finally, one could argue that market forces are already moving toward a listener-centric model with the proliferation of niche social media platforms, even in the absence of regulatory interventions.40Aisha Jones, The Rise of Niche Social Media Platforms: Opportunities for Community Building, Kubbco (Feb. 7, 2024), https://www.kubbco.com/blog/the-rise-of-niche-social-media-platforms-opportunities-for-community-building [https://perma.cc/V8ZP-NHWB]. There is some evidence that users are beginning to migrate from more general social media sites such as X (formerly known as Twitter), to special interest platforms where they can avoid the cacophony of hostile rhetoric in favor of sites where they can engage with a smaller cohort of people who share common interests. That development certainly enhances listener choice without risking the possible unintended consequences of regulations designed to promote listeners’ choice.

Especially during the 2024 election season, there seemed to be growing dissatisfaction with general social media sites because of the unavoidability of sometimes harsh political discourse. It was not uncommon to hear calls for platforms dedicated to only discussion of books, movies, music, gaming, and other mostly nonpolitical (or, at least, not primarily political) topics that listeners sought out to find some respite. Sports lovers initially were the exception to this rule, although even those users have now started fleeing X.41Compare Jesus Jiménez, As Users Abandon X, Sports Twitter Endures, N.Y. Times (Oct. 27, 2023), https://www.nytimes.com/2023/10/27/sports/sports-twitter-x-elon-musk.html [https://web.archive.org/web/20250127170503/https://www.nytimes.com/2023/10/27/sports/sports-twitter-x-elon-musk.html], with Will Leitch, The Slow, Painful Death of Sports Twitter, N.Y. Mag.: Intelligencer (Feb. 27, 2024), https://nymag.com/intelligencer/article/the-slow-painful-death-of-sports-twitter-under-elon-musk.html [https://web.archive.org/web/20240927124315/https://nymag.com/intelligencer/article/the-slow-painful-death-of-sports-twitter-under-elon-musk.html].

Available statistics suggest that the market has responded to this interest and is already enhancing listener choice by serving its own matching function. About 115,000 users deactivated their X accounts on the day after the November 2024 Presidential Election.42Kat Tenbarge & Kevin Collier, X Sees Largest User Exodus Since Elon Musk Takeover, NBC News (Nov. 13, 2024, 1:40 PM), https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/x-sees-largest-user-exodus-musk-takeover-rcna179793 [https://perma.cc/FZ3E-3XKQ]. No matter how the total user base is measured, that is a very small percentage, which is unsurprising because network effects deter people from leaving even platforms with which they are dissatisfied. Of course, people can maintain active X accounts while still seeking out other outlets for speech. In comparison, niche social media platforms are still quite small. One of the largest, Goodreads, a platform to share book recommendations, had about 150 million users as of 2023.43Phil Stamper-Halpin, How to Reach More Readers on Goodreads, Penguin Random House: News for Authors (Sept. 2023), https://authornews.penguinrandomhouse.com/how-to-reach-more-readers-on-goodreads [https://perma.cc/4JP5-8D9C]. Houzz, a home design social media platform, reportedly has about 70 million users.44Terri Williams, 2025 Houzz Home Design Trends: These Are the Top 10 Predictions, Forbes (Oct. 31, 2024, 4:07 AM), https://www.forbes.com/sites/terriwilliams/2024/10/31/2025-houzz-home-design-trends-these-are-the-top-10-predictions [https://perma.cc/CCH3-42Z9]. A platform for movie lovers (especially indie) called Letterboxd now has about 17 million users.45Jill Goldsmith, Letterboxd, Indie Cinema’s Secret Weapon, Hit 17 Million Members—Here Are Their Top 2024 Films, Deadline (Jan. 8, 2025, 9:11 AM), https://deadline.com/2025/01/letterboxd-indie-films-members-surge-in-2024-favorite-films-1236251217 [https://perma.cc/U6Y7-EGP9]. Reddit, while open to a wide range of users, is well known for facilitating smaller communities to generate discussion of interest, and now has about 91 million daily active users.46David Curry, Reddit Revenue and Usage Statistics (2025), Business of Apps, https://www.businessofapps.com/data/reddit-statistics [https://perma.cc/3JLY-DYYF]. Finally, Substack, a platform for distributing individualized newsletters to both paid and unpaid subscribers, now has approximately 50 million subscribers.47Max Tani, Substack Wants to Do More Than Just Newsletters, Semafor (Oct. 6, 2024, 4:58 PM), https://www.semafor.com/article/10/06/2024/substack-wants-to-do-more-than-just-newsletters [https://perma.cc/SR96-WCPC]; A New Economic Engine for Culture, Substack, https://substack.com/about [https://web.archive.org/web/20250331060253/https://substack.com/about].

It may seem somewhat contradictory to fret about information silos while simultaneously celebrating the expansion of niche social media sites. To address this briefly, I would argue that the siloing problem is much more problematic on the larger, omnibus social media platforms than with niche social media platforms. Political discourse is one of the main features of the larger platforms, so cutting off speech that is ideologically diverse is truly undermining the opportunities for persuasion. In contrast, the niche social media sites are mostly excluding posts about other topics not because of any ideological commitments, but rather to help filter out what they regard as irrelevant information. That is not to say that political discourse cannot arise in the context of these niche sites,48I would certainly be the last to argue that things such as art or music do not evoke important social and political meaning. See generally Mark V. Tushnet, Alan K. Chen & Joseph Blocher, Free Speech Beyond Words: The Surprising Reach of the First Amendment (2017). but it is at least less likely to do so. And, of course, these users may be walling themselves off from any political speech, which could be problematic for public discourse in the long run. But there is nothing to suggest that these users might not still engage in political discourse on other platforms or in other contexts of communication in their non-online lives.

* * *

Notwithstanding my limited reservations and questions, I wholeheartedly welcome Professor Grimmelmann’s important and valuable contribution to thinking about the complex constitutional and social issues associated with regulation of electronic media in the current climate. Continued efforts to meaningfully apply standard First Amendment doctrine to new media allow us all to think critically about the best way forward.

98 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1387

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* Thompson G. Marsh Law Alumni Professor, University of Denver Sturm College of Law. Thank you to Erin Miller and to the editors and staff of the Southern California Law Review, and especially Simone Chu, for their efforts in organizing this fantastic Symposium. Thanks also to Nina Christensen and Charlotte Rhoad for their helpful research.

Unchosen Listening

INTRODUCTION

A century of developments in communications technology has done wonders for listeners.1By “listeners,” I will mean consumers of speech in all forms. In the not-so-distant past, the listener had few choices regarding the speech they heard. An urban listener might find a range of choice in libraries or bookstores, or among private associations’ meetings or periodicals. But mostly listeners heard what others happened to say, on the job, at church, in the neighborhood, and on the street-corner. Today, listeners have more choices than ever, and more ability to choose which speech to hear and which not to hear.

First Amendment doctrine, for its part, has occasionally shielded these listeners’ choices about whom to listen to, even over speakers’ choices about whom to speak to.2E.g., Hill v. Colo., 530 U.S. 703, 716 (2000); Rowan v. Post Office Dept., 397 U.S. 728, 738 (1970); Frisby v. Schultz, 487 U.S. 474, 477–78 (1988). I largely agree with the authors in this symposium who argue that it should do so more often.3See generally e.g., Ashutosh Bhagwat, Respecting Listeners’ Autonomy: The Right to Be Left Alone, 98 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1129 (2025); James Grimmelmann, Listeners’ Choices Online, 98 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1231 (2025); Helen Norton, Fear and Free Speech, 98 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1351 (2025). The appeal is evident. Communication goes most smoothly with a willing speaker and a willing listener. And with listeners now awash in speech options, someone must choose among them. The listener seems obviously superior, as chooser, to many looming alternatives: the stalker, the fake-news purveyor, the oligopolistic media platform, or—most antithetical to the First Amendment—the government.

Yet this Commentary urges caution in so fully embracing listener’s choice that it becomes a paradigm of First Amendment jurisprudence. One can easily move from recognizing the advantages of willing listening (and speaking) to identifying the “core” of constitutionally protected speech as not just a “joint activity”—to use Ashutosh Bhagwat’s illuminating term4Bhagwat, supra note 3, at 1135—but mutually consensual, affirmatively chosen by both speaker and listener.5See Grimmelmann, supra note 3, at 1281–82. Grimmelmann also has thoughtfully discussed the limits of listener choice, given the risks of irrational and uninformed choice, as well as the importance of other values. See James Grimmelmann, Listeners’ Choices, 90 U. Colo. L. Rev. 365, 372–73 (2019). One might even begin seeing something constitutionally suspect about speech that lacks a consenting listener. On this interpretation, the fact that the speaker on his soapbox in Washington Square Park annoys some passersby is, while inevitable, still unfortunate—a sacrifice made for the sake of the other, more willing passersby.6See Bhagwat, supra note 3, at 1143–44; Grimmelmann, supra note 3, at 1233. To be clear, Bhagwat explicitly acknowledges the need to maintain the diversity and friction of public discourse. Bhagwat, supra note 3, at 1143. I just believe the importance of that need is more cleanly understood without too much emphasis on the willingness of listeners in general.

Yet in a not-too-distant future, this fact might be “correctible” by technology, assisted by artificial intelligence and mass data collection. Every webpage you visit might seamlessly filter out any content you have elected not to see; or software might elect for you, based on your eyes’ patterns of lingering. When you step onto the street, you might wear digital glasses to blur out all written speech that you have deemed unwelcome, and digital headphones to cancel all noise except oral speech you have deemed welcome.7Thanks to Jeremy Gartland and Eugene Volokh for inspiring this thought experiment.

While this seems a paradise for listeners’ choice, it would not be one for listeners’ interests, another traditional First Amendment concern.8See, e.g., Citizens United v. F.E.C., 558 U.S. 310, 354 (2010); Red Lion Broad. Co. v. F.C.C., 395 U.S. 367, 390 (1969). The speech that we choose to hear does not always make us better off.9I assume that a listener’s interests are not inevitably reflected in their choices. The former can come apart from the latter, either because the listener’s interests are objective in some sense, or else because they are subjective but higher-order or long-term such that they do not determine every choice. Certainly, a listener’s choice is one aspect of their interests. And speech they vehemently reject—such as harassing speech—will rarely be in their interest. But a gray zone exists between chosen listening and coerced listening, which I will call unchosen listening. Some unchosen listening, I will argue, is a desirable part of being an autonomous person and citizen.

I will also argue that it is desirable for the broader society of which listeners are a part—including its collective knowledge, culture, and, especially, democratic institutions. These societal interests underlie the First Amendment, too, as Alan Chen also discusses in this symposium.10Alan K. Chen, Pluralism and Listeners’ Choices Online, 98 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1387, 1395 (2025). Perhaps for these reasons, unchosen listening has been revered in First Amendment doctrine. As the Supreme Court declared in Terminiello v. Chicago, speech “may indeed best serve its high purpose when it induces a condition of unrest, creates dissatisfaction with conditions as they are, or even stirs people to anger. Speech is often provocative and challenging. It may strike at prejudices and preconceptions and have profound unsettling effects as it presses for acceptance of an idea.”11Terminiello v. Chicago, 337 U.S. 1, 4 (1949).

Indeed, the most fiercely protected First Amendment speech—perhaps its real “core” case—involves non-consensual listeners: speech in the public forum.12I mean by “core” only, as stated, the most stringently protected; various theories of the First Amendment might interpret the theoretical core—the cases best serving First Amendment values—differently. This means citizens trying to move or persuade fellow citizens, and especially those none too thrilled to listen. It is—for those familiar with the First Amendment landmarks—Abrams’s communist pamphlets thrown from the roof, Kovacs’s pro-labor commentary amplified from his truck, Mosley’s sign decrying race discrimination, Cohen’s jacket protesting the draft.13Abrams v. United States, 250 U.S. 616, 630 (1919); Kovacs v.Cooper, 336 U.S. 77, 79 (1949); Police Dept. of Chi. v. Mosley, 408 U.S. 92, 93 (1972); Cohen v. California, 403 U.S. 15, 16 (1971). And it is arguably the only speech government has a (currently recognized) positive obligation to protect—by preserving the openness of traditional public forums—under the First Amendment.14See Hague v. Comm. Indus. Org., 307 U.S. 496, 513, 515–16 (1939).

While the Court has seldom expounded on the theme of unchosen listening, its silence invites less doctrinally bound theorizing. This Commentary thus offers a brief normative case for resisting a listener’s-choice paradigm (and maintaining more of a public forum paradigm).15I take my case to be congenial and supplementary to Alan Chen’s remarks on a similar theme in this symposium. See generally Chen, supra note 10.

I. The Case for unchosen listening

What speech will a listener hear, if they mostly choose that speech themselves or have it selected for them based on algorithmic predictions of their preferences?16 Currently, these predictions often track not our choices about content but predictions of what content we will click through to––based on past listening data––or spend time listening to. I largely set aside here the enormous discrepancies in preferences that might result. For a discussion in the music context, see Liz Pelly, Mood Machine: The Rise of Spotify and the Costs of the Perfect Playlist 103 (2025) (describing how music streaming services like Spotify do not actually satisfy listeners’ preferences, but rather those of their “slightly off data double”). I also set aside the potentially grave issue of how listeners’ preferences might themselves be manipulated by media or other corporations. Chances are, it will be fairly insular and homogeneous. That is, it will be familiar, comfortable, and unchallenging; and it will come from like-minded speakers and a small number of sources.17See, e.g., Florian Arendt, Temple Northup & Lindita Camaj, Selective Exposure and News Media Brands: Implicit and Explicit Attitudes as Predictors of News Choice, 22 Media Psych. 526, 540 (2019) (finding that consumers’ positive or negative attitudes toward news media brands predict their content choice decisions); Eytan Bakshy, Solomon Messing & Lada Adamic, Exposure to Ideologically Diverse News and Opinion on Facebook, 348 Science 1130, 1131–32 (2015). Its insularity and homogeneity will be reinforced to the extent that the listener chooses with greater granularity—that is, chooses not just among sources or topics but among specific speech from each source or specific views on each topic.18Thanks to Joseph Blocher for alerting me to potential problems of more granular choosing. The result might resemble “The Daily Me” envisioned by Cass Sunstein.19Cass R. Sunstein, #Republic: Divided Democracy in the Age of Social Media 1 (2018) (citing Nicholas Negroponte, Being Digital 153 (1995)). While not all listeners will choose like this, and few will do so all the time, enough listeners will likely do so in enough cases to affect the overall patterns of communication in society.

Assuming this is true, the following discussion identifies five significant interests that can be undermined when listening becomes too tailored to a listener’s choices: preference optimization, error avoidance, innovation, self-evolution, and tolerance.20A full theory, and more space than I have, would be needed to identify and adjudicate the range of conflicts that arise between listeners’ interests and choices, as well as to determine when listener’s choosing becomes over-tailored. Each interest has an individual dimension: for listeners themselves. Each also has a collective dimension: for a society in which the total pool of speech consumed is determined largely by listeners’ choices.

A. Optimizing Preferences

Even listener-chosen speech does not always satisfy listener preferences.21Cf. Grimmelmann, Listeners’ Choices, supra note 5, at 1237 (echoing similar concerns that some listeners may make mistakes about their own preferences). Speech often defies expectations. Sometimes we have a “meh” reaction to a movie by our favorite director, or are spellbound by a movie we expected to bore. Our expectations are sometimes even insufficient for choice. I may have almost no sense of whether I would like a movie from an unfamiliar genre, because I have not experienced anything like it before. After all, the indicators of content that are available prior to hearing speech—for example, its speaker, venue, general subject, or reviews—are necessarily limited.

       With ever more personalized listening technology, our mistaken choices—or mistaken predictions of our choices by algorithms—can lock us into inferior patterns of listening. Mistaken choices are easily corrected when they produce dissatisfaction, but less so when they produce merely suboptimal satisfaction. Say that I have watched and liked one Fellini film and one Spielberg film. Perhaps I am directed, by choice or algorithm, toward more Spielberg films rather than Fellini films. I continue to like Spielberg films and hence grow my love of Spielberg. I may never know the counterfactual––whether I would have preferred the Fellini films. The best chance of exiting a suboptimal equilibrium is exposure to unchosen speech, or at least less-precisely-chosen speech. Optimizing, therefore, involves reflective equilibrium between chosen and unchosen exposure.

       A collective cultural danger lurks here, too, at least insofar as listeners rely on algorithmic services to make these finer speech selections for them.22More strikingly, sometimes we do not actively want to choose at all, but just “lean back and let Spotify choose things.” Pelly, supra note 16, at 25; see also id. (explaining how Spotify started to “optimize . . . for a less engaged user” experience). Because these services operate within a market economy, their corporate makers may face incentives to nudge listeners toward more popular, hence more easily satisfiable, preferences. Forced to rely on the same services to find listeners, speakers—including musicians, writers, filmmakers, journalists, and others—may also feel pressure to create content to win the algorithm’s game, as many have already.23Id. at 33 (describing music streaming as a system that is “not only designed by the major labels but also prioritizes the type of music engineered for and roundtabled for mass-scale success”); see also id. at 115 (“[M]usic that sounds like other music is the most data-blessed.”). The result may be a blander culture and public sphere, with fewer options over which to optimize our preferences.

B. Avoiding Error

Listening primarily to chosen speech may proliferate error. The first problem is that it may skew our available evidence. If, as assumed, we choose to listen to speakers who share our beliefs, including false ones, then they will be unlikely to offer evidence against those beliefs.24See, e.g., Jieun Shin & Kjerstin Thorson, Partisan Selective Sharing: The Biased Diffusion of Fact-Checking Messages on Social Media, 67 J. Commc’n 233, 247–50 (2017). They may even pass on new false beliefs based on old ones. These harms are well-documented within “epistemic bubbles,” that is, discussion spaces in which certain views are systematically excluded.25C. Thi Nguyen, Echo Chambers and Epistemic Bubbles, 17 Episteme 141, 143–44 (2020) (citing sources); Elizabeth Anderson, Political Epistemology 11 (2021). I do not dispute political science findings that echo chambers, those that tend to magnify and insulate extreme political views and consult limited media sources, may not currently be common. Cf. Amy Ross Arguedas, Craig T. Robertson, Richard Fletcher, Rasmus Kleis Nielsen, Echo Chambers, Filter Bubbles, and Polarisation: A Literature Review, Reuters Institute Report, 2022, at 4 (surveying recent literature); Damian Trilling & Claus Schoenbach, Challenging Selective Exposure, 3 Digital Journalism 140, 141 (2014) (explaining how current structural factors and the existence of mainstream news outlets at least tend to give most citizens decently diverse news diets, even if contrary to their preferences).

A second problem is that too much chosen listening may objectionably narrow the range of subjects on which we possess evidence. People may choose to listen to little or no speech concerning decisions they will or must take, including voting. For instance, research suggests that the most promising ways to inform voters may involve incorporating speech that they do not choose alongside speech they do—such as entertainment.26See Markus Prior, Post-Broadcast Democracy: How Media Choice Increases Inequality in Political Involvement and Polarizes Elections 17 (2007).

Yet a third problem is that a steady diet of chosen speech may dull our capacity to think itself. As John Stuart Mill observed 166 years ago, reasoning is better stimulated and optimized by speech that is uncomfortable and challenging.27John Stuart Mill, on Liberty (Rethinking the Western Tradition) 90–91 (David Bromwich & George Kateb eds., Yale Univ. Press 2003) (1859). But chosen speech is, by assumption, typically the opposite. Chosen speech can exacerbate self-favoring and in-group-favoring cognitive biases.28See, e.g., Anderson, supra note 25, at 13. Chosen speech may not even offer reasons, because it does not seek to persuade. Chosen speech can, by repeating or just assuming our beliefs, reinforce and bury them so deeply that we have trouble getting the “mental distance” necessary to scrutinize them—to question them and their justification.

C. Innovation

Unchosen listening can stimulate not just rational thought, but more creative and generative forms of thought that do not merely analyze evidence but propose new ideas or solutions.

Creativity is by its nature unexpected. It often involves making connections among facts, ideas, disciplines, cultures, and so forth that others—including oneself—had never thought to draw. We are thus sometimes likelier to arrive at an innovative solution not by continuing to think directly about the problem—constrained by our previous expectations—but by allowing our mind to wander and randomly associate.29See, e.g., Jonathan Gingerich, Is Spotify Bad for Democracy?: Artificial Intelligence, Cultural Democracy, and Law, 24 Yale J.L. & Tech. 227, 262–63 (2022). The revolutionary inventions, discoveries, insights, and movements that have been prompted by contact with unusual contexts, other disciplines, or other cultures are countless. Consider an eclectic sampling. Clinical psychology has been seriously influenced by Buddhist religious practices. Impressionism in painting was largely inspired by Japanese ukiyo-e prints30Colta Feller Ives, Japonisme, Metro. Museum of Art (Oct. 1 2004), https://www.metmuseum.org/essays/japonisme [https://perma.cc/EZP2-D6YX].; and the painting of Jackson Pollock, darling of the Supreme Court’s own First Amendment cases, was likely inspired by Native American sandpainting.31Jackson Pollock, One: Number 31, 1950, Museum of Mod. Art, https://www.moma. org/collection/works/78386 [https://web.archive.org/web/20250114000836/https://www.moma.org/collection/works/78386]. The QR code was suggested by the Go board,32Justin McCurry, ‘I’m Pleased It Is Being Used for People’s Safety’: QR Code Inventor Relishes Its Role in Tackling Covid, The Guardian (Dec. 10, 2020), https://www.theguardian. com/technology/2020/dec/11/qr-code-inventor-relish-its-role-in-tackling-covid [https://perma.cc/G6AS-3NMG]. while the foldable shape of heart stents was suggested by Japanese origami.33Wei Zhao, Nan Li, Liwu Liu, Jinsong Leng & Yangju Liu, Origami Derived Self-assembly Stents Fabricated via 4D Printing, 293 Composite Structures 1, 1 (2022). Numerous engineering innovations, from aeronautics to robotics, have come from observing animals.34See Sandy B. Primrose, Biomimetics: Nature-inspired Design and Innovation 9, 81 (2020) (describing, among many examples, innovations in bullet trains from observing birds, and in robotics from observing gripping mechanisms on gecko feet). The latest monumental computer science invention, large language models, grew from insights in both linguistics and cognitive science. And this symposium’s own Aziz Huq uses observations in sociology for thinking about digital speech.35Aziz Huq, Islands of Algorithmic Integrity: Imagining a Democratic Digital Public Sphere, 98 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1287, 1289 (2025).

Creativity thus seems likeliest to be prompted by exposure to speech that is unexpected, or at least unguided by our own choices.36See, e.g., Charlan Jeanne Nemeth & Margaret Ormiston, Creative Idea Generation: Harmony Versus Stimulation, 37 Euro. J. Soc. Pysch. 524, 532–33 (2007). Unchosen speech can offer new concepts and frameworks of thinking that supplement or integrate with existing ones. Or it can simply interrupt habitual frameworks—generating another (creative) form of mental distance—and thus open the mind to the potential relevance of unexpected inputs. By contrast, chosen speech can lock in certain expectations of relevance.

One might expect collective, rather than individual, innovation to be fueled through highly personalized listening. It might segregate most listeners into speech subcultures, within which they could refine their own insular ideas—like members of a species separated among islands and continuing to evolve. But then a few innovators sampling from those radically diverse subcultures might produce innovations of even greater enormity. Yes, it seems just as plausible that, so long as enough listening is chosen, occasional sampling by a greater number and diversity of listeners would provide offsetting benefits of more sophisticated—if slightly less radically distinct—subcultures and more frequent innovation.37See generally Tyler Cowen, Creative Destruction: How Globalization Is Changing the World’s Cultures (2004) (arguing that globalization typically increases diversity and innovation within each society, even if cultures grow closer together).

D. Self-Evolution

Persons arguably have a fundamental autonomy interest in being able not just to make up their minds, but to change them, too. This ability to change applies to their beliefs, as described above, but also their ends—their important goals, values, commitments, and so forth—and their tastes.38See, e.g., John Rawls, Political Liberalism 186 (1993) (assuming, as part of citizens’ “moral powers,” that they “can regulate and revise their ends and preferences”); Gerald Dworkin, The Nature of Autonomy, 2 Nordic J. Stud. Educ. Pol’y 7, 12 (2015) (“Autonomy should have some relationship to the ability of individuals, not only to scrutinize critically their first-order motivations but also to change them if they so desire.”). I do not mean the mere freedom to zig when one previously zagged. Certain factors beyond our control inevitably change over time: our external circumstances vary, and our set of experiences and beliefs expands. In response, it is often appropriate or even necessary to change ourselves in order to cohere, adapt, and grow. Otherwise, we become frozen into a course determined not by us, but by the “dead hand” of our past self.39Joel Feinberg, The Concept of Autonomy, in The Inner Citadel: Essays on Individual Autonomy 34 (John Christman ed., 1989) (“Always the self that contributes to the making of the newer self is the product of both of outside influences and an earlier self that was not quite as fully formed.”); see also Gingerich, Spotify, supra note 29, at 276 (2022); Jonathan Gingerich, Spontaneous Freedom, 133 Ethics 38, 42 (2022). Indeed, one might say that autonomous self-development just is the continual evolution of our self in response to new, external inputs.

It is almost always possible to change our ends, at least insofar as nothing physically prevents us. But pursuing our ends is often habitual, or even inertial. For us to have a meaningful opportunity to change,40The freedom to change cannot mean that one simply could change. That would be either impossible or true in nearly every circumstance, depending on one’s metaphysics. We anyway do not fully choose our ends. Rather, a meaningful opportunity is all that we can hope for. we must occasionally gain mental distance—of yet another sort—sufficient to reflect directly on our existing ends and their continued desirability, with adequate understanding of alternatives.41Cf. Gingerich, Spotify, supra note 29, at 277.

Listening only to chosen speech impedes this mental distance. Because we as listeners choose speech based on who we are, that speech is unlikely either to prompt critical self-reflection or to present an adequate range of alternatives for whom we could become. It may even passively reenforce our present ends and hinder our evolution.42Id. at 276; see also Gingerich, Spontaneous Freedom, supra note 39 , at 42. By contrast, consuming speech that is unchosen and hence more unfamiliar or even genuinely surprising is likelier to enable self-transformation.

A society that lacks such dynamism among its members, too, seems destined to remain trapped in outdated ways of life. As its membership grows and shifts, and the world changes, it may not evolve—culturally, politically, or legally—to meet new needs. As a staunch advocate of “[a] constitutional regime fearful of political entrenchment and dedicated to continual adaptation,”43incent Blasi, Holmes and the Marketplace of Ideas, 2004 Sup. Ct. Rev. 1, 45 (2004). Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes saw protection of specifically “the expression of opinions that we loathe” as indispensable.44Abrams v. United States, 250 U.S. 616, 630 (1919) (Holmes, J., dissenting).

E. Tolerance and Persuadability

In a pluralistic society, we must cooperate across irresolvable differences and disagreements. We must work with and take into account the interests of those with values, beliefs, and tastes significantly different from our own (let us call them our counterparts). Sometimes we must reach compromises with our counterparts, even at partial expense of our own ends. This demands tolerance toward our counterparts, that is, engaging and respecting them as rational agents and persons as we engage with them. We must, so far as possible, attempt to understand and make sense of their claims, identify issues of agreement, and persuade them on issues of disagreement.

Highly personalized listening can be expected to decrease tolerance. Humans have a well-documented proclivity to exhibit negative personal attitudes toward those who hold views—especially moral and political views—with which they strongly disagree.45See, e.g., Cass R. Sunstein, Going to Extremes: How Like Minds United and Divide, 1–20 (2009) (detailing tendencies within likeminded groups toward both more extremism and more negative perceptions toward outsiders); Lee C. Bollinger, The Tolerant Society 111, 120 (1986). We may also interpret the speech of our counterparts in uncharitable ways, thereby missing any merit in it.46See, e.g., Julia A. Minson, Frances S. Chen & Catherine H. Tinsley, Why Won’t You Listen to Me? Measuring Receptiveness to Opposing Views, 66 Mgmt. Sci. 2801 (2019). But these effects can be countered, the more often we hear counterparts speak.47See, e.g., Diana C. Mutz, Cross-Cutting Social Networks: Testing Democratic Theory in Practice, 96 Amer. Pol. Sci. Rev. 111, 122–23 (2002). The more we so listen, the likelier we become to succeed in the social cooperative tasks mentioned above, and to empathize with our counterparts.

Tolerance is useful within any social group, but its usefulness is heightened within a democracy. For in a democracy, we exercise coercive power mutually over each other. As Jonathan Gingerich has argued, all participants in a democratic system, and especially potential losers, must have a genuine opportunity to persuade their fellow citizens on political issues.48Gingerich, Spotify, supra note 29, at 264; see also Robert Post, Religion and Freedom of Speech: Portraits of Muhammad, 14 Constellations 72, 75–75 (2007). Gingerich focuses on the importance of being able to persuade fellow citizens on cultural issues; but the point holds even if one centers political issues. See also Chen, supra note 10, at 105–06, 108–11. This logically entails that citizens must open themselves, even ever so slightly, to the possibility of being persuaded49For an enlightening discussion of persuadability as a personal virtue, see generally Joseph Blocher, “The Road I can’t Help Travelling”: Holmes on Truth and Persuadability, 51 Seton Hall L. Rev. 105 (2020)., in light of their own fallibility and the basic rationality of other citizens—at least enough to actively listen.50Teresa Bejan has cogently criticized public speakers today for talking to ourselves (those who agree with us), and thereby primarily seeking not to persuade but to acquire and bestow recognition. Teresa Bejan, A People’s History of Free Speech, Persuasion (Oct. 9, 2024), http://www.persuasion.community/p/a-peoples-history-of-free-speech [https://perma.cc/DD2Q-PRDW]. For any opportunity for a speaker to persuade, however slight, dies if all listeners tune out.51Cf. Chen, supra note 10, at 108, 111.

One might go further. Elected officials within a democracy owe a duty to their constituents to hear out their political concerns, no matter how much the officials would prefer not to. One might by extension argue that voters, as joint rulers over one another, have an obligation to hear out the political concerns of at least some of their counterparts.52Of course, choosing across many axes of preference may incidentally expose a listener to speech that is unchosen, and mitigate some of these harms. The socialist may encounter anti-socialist speech on the Yankees-fans’ or parents’ forum. However, insofar as viewpoints tend to cluster, and conversations tend to be more focused online than in-person, the mitigating effects may be limited. As Justice Louis Brandeis once declared, “public discussion is a political duty.”53Whitney v. California, 274 U.S. 357, 375 (1927) (Brandeis, J., concurring).

II. Limitations and Implications

Having made the general case for unchosen listening, I offer a few brief remarks to situate it within contemporary free speech doctrine.

Hopefully it is clear that I do not mean to reject listener choice as a critical First Amendment concept. Listener choice is rightly viewed by courts as definitive in certain limited domains, such as the home.54Frisby v. Schultz, 487 U.S. 474, 484–85 (1988). The doctrine largely limits those domains to one, the home, see Bhagwat, and it may do so rightly. The home is a place of private intimacy, where one can retreat in order to avoid the social cooperative pressures that pervade our lives in so many other spaces. Arguably courts should, even most of the time, defer to the listener’s choice, as the least objectionable, content-neutral proxy for their interests. After all, listeners’ choices usually converge with their personal interests. Respecting listeners’ choices also tends, through market mechanisms, to generate decently diverse media options, which are good for their democratic interests.55Grimmelmann is thus right that listener choice should be a significant factor guiding regulation of some intermediaries. Grimmelmann, supra note 3, at 1231–32. He also elegantly weighs the diverse interests of speakers, listeners, and intermediaries.

As mentioned at the outset, I am also inclined to believe that the First Amendment does not protect a right to coerce listeners.56See Bhagwat, supra note 3, at 1157–58; Norton, supra note 3, at 1366. The final scene of A Clockwork Orange is not a good look for the Constitution. Some speech, such as hundreds of creepy Facebook messages,57Counterman v. Colorado, 600 U.S. 66, 70 (2023). See also Norton, supra note 3, at 1365, 1367. may be constructively coercive, because of its repetition, intimidation, or substantial disruption of normal activities. Other speech may be coercive because of time-constrained psychological vulnerabilities of a listener.58See generally, e.g., McCullen v. Coakley, 573 U.S. 464 (2014) (abortion clinic patients); Snyder v. Phelps, 562 U.S. 443 (2011) (funeral attendees); Ohralik v. Ohio State Bar Ass’n, 436 US 447 (1978) (accident victims). The first two cases upheld free speech claims against listeners, perhaps rightly, but all three involve listeners who might be considered (temporarily) psychologically vulnerable. But listening is not coerced simply because unrequested, unaccepted, or even undesired. I am inclined to believe that even speech that ignores a listener’s affirmative assertion of unwillingness is not coerced, absent such exacerbating factors.59I do appreciate, however, that Bhagwat contemplates limitations on assertions of the right not to listen, such as across time, and perhaps even a requirement of one-time minimal exposure. Bhagwat, supra note 3, at 1129. Speech is not sex. Nor is listening coerced if the asserter had some minimal exposure to the speech on a prior occasion—the glimpse before we “avert our eyes” or click to delete.60The power of government to compel listening, because of its power, may be uniquely limited.

One of the main venues for speech of this sort is the public forum. Of course, speech in these spaces works better—to spark correction, creativity, transformation, or tolerance—when the listener is game. Indeed, the more actively a listener resists, the less likely speech will achieve any such benefits. But even if most listeners avert their eyes against unwanted speech in public, they at least gain minimal exposure to the message and the fact that someone wants to speak it. Even that regular exposure can heighten tolerance and reduce resistance toward other, perhaps more articulate, unchosen speech.

Virtual forums can prevent even such minimal exposure to speech. With digital listener’s-choice technology, you need not avert your eyes whenever you see an unwelcome message, but can often effectively swipe right to pre-screen all similar messages. Indeed, some messages can be silenced not because you affirmatively resisted them, but because messages you liked better were prioritized over them. Yet media platforms may increasingly turn to listener’s choice as a means of filtering principle that both satisfies users and evades responsibility.

Aggressive use of listener-chosen filtering may even portend the demise of the traditional public forum. The area of publicly owned space available for talking appears to have been shrinking for decades, as the Court has recognized.61See Food Emps. v. Logan Valley Plaza, Inc., 391 U.S. 308, 324 (1968) (describing movement from urban to suburban spaces and hence the growth of shopping malls as places of public congregation); see also Sarah Schindler, The Publicization of Private Space, 103 Iowa L. Rev. 1093, 1106 (2018) (“Fewer cities are investing in the direct creation of new publicly owned public space, and there has been an increase in privatized public space.”). Listeners, willing and unwilling, have fled those spaces even faster since the digital era. Research shows that pedestrians now walk faster, and interact less often, in public spaces.62Arianna Salazar-Miranda, Zhuangyuan Fan, Michael B. Baick, Keith N. Hampton, Fabio Duarte, Becky P.Y. Loo, Edward L. Glaeser & Carlo Ratti, Shifting Patterns of Social Interaction: Exploring the Social Life of Urban Spaces Through A.I. (Nat’l Bureau Econ. Rsch., Working Paper No. 33185, 2024) (analyzing pedestrian behavior using video evidence from 1979–2010). Many factors seem to exacerbate this trend: ever more densely developed urban areas,63Zenovia Toloudi, Are We in the Midst of a Public Space Crisis?, The Conversation (Jun. 7, 2016) (describing urban planning choices that restrict access to public space). constrained public budgets,64Nina Lakhani, Millions of Americans Lack Access to Quality Parks, Report Reveals, The Guardian (May 20, 2020), https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2020/may/20/park-inequality-access-coronavirus-wellbeing [https://perma.cc/KHT4-S5JH] (describing budget constraints as one reason why 100 million Americans lack access to public open and green spaces). perceived rises in crime, architectural features designed to make spaces less welcoming (likely targeted at the homeless),65See, e.g., Faith Ruetas, Anti Homeless Architecture, Rethinking the Future, https://www.re-thinkingthefuture.com/designing-for-typologies/hostile-architecture-anti-homeless-architecture/ [https://perma.cc/XY2M-4GUP] (depicting various forms of architecture that seem designed to exclude lingering). and increasing stretches of everyday life spent online. When we talk to strangers, it is thus mostly in private, digitally moderated spaces, to the willing. Even when we do find ourselves conversing in physical spaces, severe geographical political segregation means that our interlocutors will often still be likeminded.66See, e.g., Yongjun Zhang, Siwei Cheng, Zhi Li, Wenhao Jiang, Human Mobility Patterns Are Associated with Experienced Partisan Segregation in U.S. Metropolitan Areas, (Nat’l Econ. Bureau Rsch., Working Paper, 2025) (observing partisan segregation not just across geographical regions but within residential neighborhoods of cities). All of this stymies the serious engagement across difference that is critical to the democratic process.

Admittedly, the public forums of old were never ideal sites for reasoned discourse. Soapbox speakers are typically better at stirring passions than parsing arguments. Yet the solution should not be doctrinal abandonment of the public forum, and the commitment to unchosen listening that it represents.67See Ronald J. Krotoszynski, Jr., Our Shrinking First Amendment: On the Growing Problem of Reduced Access to Public Property for Speech Activity and Some Suggestions for a Better Way Forward, 78 Ohio St. L.J. 779, 784 n.15 (2017) (collecting cases in which courts permitted the government to exclude citizens from public spaces). Rather, courts should stand ready to approve the expansion of spaces in which we encounter at least some unbidden speech—if necessary, privately owned ones68See generally Erin L. Miller, The Private Abridgment of Free Speech, 32 Wm. & Mary Bill Rts. J. 615 (2024) (arguing for the validity of First Amendment claims against certain powerful private agents, including potentially the largest social media platforms).—and encourage reason-giving within them.69See Rebecca L. Brown, Remarks on Academic Freedom and Free Speech: Reflections on Blocher, 98 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1379, 1385–86 (2025). That would be the First Amendment paradise.

 

98 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1399

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* Associate Professor of Law & Philosophy, University of Southern California Gould School of Law. I am grateful to the participants in this symposium for inspiring this comment, to the student editors of the Southern California Law Review for their diligence at every step of the production process, and to Ashutosh Bhagwat, Rebecca Brown, James Grimmelmann, and Felipe Jiménez for detailed feedback.

The First Amendment of Fear

  Introduction

Fear can be a powerful silencer. Speakers may be thwarted not only by direct force but also when they check themselves because they anticipate adverse consequences. Some assessment of costs and benefits is involved whenever anyone decides to communicate, of course. That is normal and actually valuable. Yet acute anxiety, caused by the realistic prospect of violence or other grave harm, differs from ordinary consequential reasoning, even if both result in silence.

Today, speakers seem to be hesitating with concerning frequency. Their reticence is understandable, because disagreement and its consequences have become severe in certain settings. Acute fear of speaking has affected those on the right and on the left, though not perhaps in the same way or to the same degree. Consider an example at Columbia University. Reportedly, a truck with a billboard bearing the words “Columbia’s Leading Antisemites,” alongside the names and faces of students and faculty, appeared in Morningside Heights and drove slowly around campus.1Esha Karam, ‘Doxxing Truck’ Displaying Names and Faces of Affiliates It Calls ‘Antisemites’ Comes to Columbia, Colum. Spectator (Oct. 25, 2023, 11:45 AM), https://www.columbiaspectator.com/news/2023/10/25/doxxing-truck-displaying-names-and-faces-of-affiliates-it-calls-antisemites-comes-to-columbia [https://perma.cc/37K2-QSXM]. For reporting on a similar incident, see Anemona Hartocollis, After Writing an Anti-Israel Letter, Harvard Students Are Doxxed, N.Y. Times (Oct. 18, 2023, 5:03 AM), https://www.nytimes.com/2023/10/18/us/harvard-students-israel-hamas-doxxing.html [https://web.archive.org/web/20231018090959/https://www.nytimes.com/2023/10/18/us/harvard-students-israel-hamas-doxxing.html]. The truck targeted Columbia affiliates who allegedly had signed a statement of solidarity with Palestinians in Gaza. The stunt was reported to be a project of a conservative media group, which also published a website that listed students and faculty members and was updated regularly.2Karam, supra note 1. People named on the website were said to be members of various campus groups that were engaged in protests against Israel’s military actions. The website asked readers to send messages to Columbia’s board of trustees urging them to “take a stand” against “these hateful individuals.”3Id. The group also purchased domain names that corresponded to the actual names of several students and faculty on the list, and it planned to send the truck to the targets’ homes. Two Columbia law students who were named had job offers withdrawn by law firms, according to news outlets covering the story.4Id. For reporting on self-censorship surrounding the military actions in Gaza, see Emily Nayyer, Surveys Reveal Rising Student and Faculty Concern About Censorship, Self-Censorship Post-October 7, FIRE (July 12, 2024), https://www.thefire.org/news/surveys-reveal-rising-student-and-faculty-concern-about-censorship-self-censorship-post [https://perma.cc/5RJW-WXFC] (reporting the results of a survey that found increased censorship and self-censorship among students concerning the war in Gaza); Shibley Telhami & Marc Lynch, Middle East Scholar Barometer #7 (May 23-June 6, 2024), https://criticalissues.umd.edu/sites/criticalissues.umd.edu/files/November%202023%20MESB%20Results.pdf [https://perma.cc/8YKA-2GSS] (reporting the results of a poll conducted by the University of Maryland and George Washington University, finding that seventy-five percent of scholars of the Middle East responded “Yes” when asked, “Do you feel the need to self-censor when speaking about the Palestinian-Israeli issue in an academic or professional capacity?”).

Although debates over Israel’s military actions in Gaza are particularly fierce, they are not unique. Fear of speaking seems to have intensified as political conflict has escalated in the United States and elsewhere.5Again, the phenomenon probably is not limited to one political camp, however asymmetric it may be. It is possible to imagine a situation where a public identification, accompanied by a charge of racism or bigotry, could be intended to elicit violence by third parties. The 2020 Central Park incident was meaningfully different, both because the intent of the person who posted the video did not seem to be malicious, and because the speech the video depicted was not on a matter of public concern. But a variation on that incident could be invented that would constitute doxing. Olivia Land, NYC’s ‘Central Park Karen’: I still live in hiding three years after viral video, N.Y. Post (Nov. 7, 2023), https://nypost.com/2023/11/07/metro/central-park-karen-still-hiding-3-years-after-viral-video [https://perma.cc/5LUY-VDNN]. As differences have deepened and political identities have tribalized, speakers noticeably have withdrawn, nervous about the possible results. Some antagonism is inherent in healthy democratic discourse, and it is not cause for regret. Criticism is a feature of deliberation, and it is valued by First Amendment traditions. But anticipation of systematic violence is something of a different order, at least arguably. Intimidation like that can degrade democratic discourse and political cooperation—or that at least is the worry with respect to freedom of expression.

Technological changes have contributed to the climate of anxiety, of course. Although some of the activity at Columbia was analog—it took the form of a truck circling campus—other aspects have leveraged the efficiency of digital media. Today, any utterance can be preserved and disseminated, instantly and cheaply. Anonymity reduces accountability for the intimidation; though anonymity also can serve freedom of expression,6See McIntyre v. Ohio Elections Comm’n, 514 U.S. 334, 342 (1995) (describing a First Amendment tradition of protecting anonymous speech in the United States). its possible piercing can disincentivize debate. A feeling of surveillance can result—the sense that something you say can provoke reprisal that is utterly devastating.

Although this is hard to document, the university classroom itself shows signs of being impoverished by the effects of systemic fear. On questions of political controversy, students appear reluctant to volunteer views that even conceivably could expose them to retribution or stigmatization. Faced with a choice between the exploration of ideas that entails the risk of retribution and the safety of silence, many students opt for the latter, it seems. And that is true of at least some students on the right and left.

Professor Helen Norton’s insightful essay for this symposium explores a related dynamic surrounding the law of stalking.7Helen Norton, Fear and Free Speech, 98 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1351 (2025). For purposes of this Essay, what her sophisticated analysis illustrates is a more general phenomenon, namely that speech generating fear can itself have a silencing effect. Although the constitutional debate surrounding stalking manifestly concerns the expressive rights of the stalker, its latent lesson is that there are speech interests on both sides—that the victims of harassment and intimidation themselves can become muzzled.8To get a sense of that debate, see the majority and dissenting opinions in Counterman v. Colorado, 143 S. Ct. 2106 (2023), and Genevieve Lakier & Evelyn Douek, The First Amendment Problem of Stalking: Counterman, Stevens, and the Limits of History and Tradition, 113 Calif. L. Rev. 149, 195–203 (2025) (endorsing Justice Sotomayor’s concurring opinion in Counterman). Understanding that dynamic complicates any consideration of the First Amendment of fear.

This short Essay seeks to make modest progress on understanding and approaching the relationship between extreme fear and freedom of speech. Part I draws inspiration from Judith Shklar, who famously built a liberal political theory designed to shield citizens from fear.9A representative work is Judith N. Shklar, The Liberalism of Fear, in Liberalism and the Moral Life 21, 29 (Nancy L. Rosenblum ed., 1989). Though her theory was concerned solely with government oppression, and though she built up only a minimal kind of political morality, it can be complicated and complemented to include private sources of intimidation and, relatedly, to comprehend a positive government obligation to ensure the basic social and material conditions for a healthy speech environment. Part II then applies this political conception to the problem of doxing. State statutes regulating doxing already exist, though they mostly have not yet been tested for adherence to the First Amendment.10For examples of state doxing statutes, see infra notes 34, 37. For cases testing doxing statutes, see Kratovil v. City of New Brunswick, 261 N.J. 1 (2025) (holding that a New Jersey law that shielded an official from publication of their exact home address was narrowly tailored to a compelling state interest); Atlas Data Privacy Corporation v. We Inform, LLC, 758 F. Supp. 3d 322 (D.N.J. 2024) (also upholding the New Jersey statute); DeHart v. Tofte, 326 Or. App. 720 (Ct. App. Ore. 2023) (declining to apply a doxing law on expressive grounds); Publius v. Boyer–Vine, 237 F. Supp. 3d 997 (E.D. Cal. 2017) (ruling unconstitutional a statute that protected against the publication of certain identifying information about certain officials, upon request); Brayshaw v. City of Tallahassee, 709 F. Supp. 2d 1244 (N.D. Fla. 2010) (overturning on constitutional grounds a conviction for publishing identifying information about a police officer); Ostergren v. Cuccinelli, 615 F.3d 263 (4th Cir. 2010) (holding that a free-speech advocate’s publication of social security numbers was protected); Sheehan v. Gregoire, 272 F. Supp. 2d 1135 (W.D. Wash. 2003) (invalidating a state statute prohibiting publication of identifying information about certain public officials). Whether and how those laws comport with the right to freedom of expression is a complicated issue, one that must include consideration of the expressive interests of the targets or victims of doxing, as well as of the perpetrators, and it must involve the social and economic power relationships that constitute and distort the expressive environment.

I. The Politics of Fear

A place to start is with perhaps the most prominent political theorist of fear, Judith Shklar. Reading her later work today is bracing—it elicits a jolt of recognition. At the most basic level, Shklar seeks to organize a conception of liberalism around a summum malum, namely “cruelty and the fear it inspires, and the very fear of fear itself.”11Shklar, supra note 9, at 29. Cruelty of the sort that concerns her is systematic; it is not haphazard but instead it entails the “deliberate infliction of physical, and secondarily emotional, pain” as an exercise of power by those in positions of strength against those in positions of weakness.12Id.

Terror and acute anxiety are bad, supremely bad, partly because they interfere with freedom, understood as the ability to direct one’s own life. Here is a key passage: “Every adult should be able to make as many effective decisions without fear or favor about as many aspects of her or his life as is compatible with the like freedom of every other adult. That belief is the original and only defensible meaning of liberalism.”13Id. at 21. She explains that liberalism aims to lift the burden of political anxiety from the shoulders of adults, who then can order their lives according to their own beliefs, wants, and needs.14Id. at 31 (explaining that liberalism restricts itself to politics and seeks “to lift the burden of fear and favor from the shoulders of adult women and men, who can then conduct their lives in accordance with their own beliefs and preferences”).

Shklar’s chain of reasoning—from basic security, to the fear of its violation, to the fear of fear itself, and then to the connection of security to the exercise of basic freedom—resonates. She connects power differentials and their abuse to human emotion, and she connects psychological security to the ability of individuals to function as citizens in a political community.15Id. at 29 (“Systematic fear is the condition that makes freedom impossible . . . .”). A commitment to personal security is political insofar as it concerns a necessary condition of the community—of the project of democratic cooperation.16Id. (“[W]hen we think politically, we are afraid not only for ourselves but for our fellow citizens as well. We fear a society of fearful people.”).

For theorists of free speech, it is a short step from Shklar’s liberalism to the realization that speakers cannot be free if they are fearful of physical violence or of power exercised against them in ways that threaten their safety. Is this silencing systematic? Shklar is not simply concerned with insecurity, again, but with insecurity that issues from power differentials and is patterned. Silencing that results from fear today could possibly be considered systematic, in a sense. Or you could say that some silencing is systematic in this way. In a radically polarized political climate, the content and viewpoint that risks retribution is foreseeable—and it is precisely this predictability that creates the conditions for censorship. If speakers did not know what positions or politics would endanger themselves or their families, they would not be able to avoid them. But because such viewpoints are foreseeable, and to the extent they are, they can be silenced.

Shklar is focused on public power, which she identifies with government action.17Id. at 21 (“[W]hile the sources of social oppression are indeed numerous, none has the deadly effect of those who, as the agents of the modern state, have unique resources of physical might and persuasion at their disposal.”). And her sharp distinction between public and private power is recognizably liberal.18Cf. Corey Robin, Fear: The History of a Political Idea 14–15 (2004) (describing and complicating Shklar’s exclusive focus on government, and showing how that focus relates to her liberalism). To some degree, Shklar’s work nevertheless remains relevant here, even strictly construed, because it applies to certain violations of freedom of expression that are instigated by government actors. In this pattern, a public official identifies a political enemy with the knowledge and expectation that followers will harass and intimidate the targeted person, terrifying them into submission and silence. So, although the proximate harm is caused by private persons, the coordination and instigation come from politicians.

Yet taking a broader view, Shklar’s focus on state action neglects instances in which private actors threaten potential speakers without any apparent or actual coordination by government figures. Because the effect is often the same, and because the topics involved may well be matters of public concern, her neglect of nonpublic exercises of power to systematically silence people limits the usefulness of her insights in today’s speech environment.

It is true that Shklar acknowledges the relevance of some social and institutional conditions for the exercise of individual freedom. For example, she emphasizes some differences between her theory and Isaiah Berlin’s negative liberty, which is otherwise quite similar. She sees the importance of protecting not just negative liberty as such, but also the conditions that make its exercise possible, and she realizes that in this way negative liberty is a necessary but not sufficient condition for personal freedom.19Shklar, supra note 9, at 28. “No door is open in a political order in which public and private intimidation prevail,” she says, and therefore it is important to identify the “institutional characteristics of a relatively free regime,” including mechanisms for the dispersal of power—social as well as strictly political power.20Id. (emphasis added); see id. at 30–31 (embracing property rights as a mechanism for the dispersal of power).

In a prominent critique, Sam Moyn portrays the liberalism of fear as an instance of what he calls Cold War liberalism. Chastened and traumatized by the wars and totalitarianisms of the twentieth century, Shklar pessimistically “dropped any radical expectations of improvement” and retreated to defending minimal pluralism against the persistent threat of violence.21Samuel Moyn, Before—and Beyond—the Liberalism of Fear, in Between Utopia and Realism: The Political Thought of Judith N. Shklar 24, 24 (Samantha Ashenden & Andreas Hess eds., 2019). Abandoning the aspirations of her earlier work, Shklar adopted a “ ‘survivalist’ approach to political theory,” one resigned to hope only for “damage control.”22Id. at 25; Shklar, supra note 9, at 27 (“We say ‘never again,’ but somewhere someone is being tortured right now, and acute fear has again become the most common form of social control. To this the horror of modern warfare must be added as a reminder. The liberalism of fear is a response to these undeniable actualities, and it therefore concentrates on damage control.”). This form of liberalism offered few resources to resist the rise of libertarianism and neoliberalism, though it was distinct from both.23Cf. Daniel McAteer, A Conversation with Samuel Moyn: The Cold War and the Canon of Liberalism, Univ. of Oxford: Ctr. for Intell. Hist. (Apr. 1, 2022), https://intellectualhistory.web.ox.ac.uk/article/a-conversation-with-samuel-moyn-the-cold-war-and-the-canon-of-liberalism [https://perma.cc/597Y-CEJ9] (arguing that in “the Cold War” period, “you get a much more libertarian framing of liberalism”).

We need not accept the limits of the liberalism of fear. To the degree that Shklar herself is focused solely on precarity caused by government policing, we can expand her insights and apply them to nongovernmental sources of insecurity. Political and constitutional theory can assimilate the insight that freedom of speech, like other basic liberties, cannot be merely formal but must be real for the actual human beings living in historically specific social situations.24Nelson Tebbe, A Democratic Political Economy for the First Amendment, 105 Cornell L. Rev. 959, 974–80 (2020). For a new, important account of why legal rights often are formal, not real, see Jeremy Kessler, Law and Historical Materialism, 74 Duke L.J. 1523, 1527–1538 (2025). It is essential for the meaningful exercise of freedom of speech for certain essential social and economic conditions to obtain. Some of these conditions are egalitarian, and some are sufficientarian, as argued in other work.25Tebbe, supra note 24, at 967. Here, the specific point is that speakers do not have a meaningful ability to express themselves freely if they are subject to fundamental physical and psychological insecurity. This is not just the healthy fear of avoidable pain, as Shklar emphasizes, but the systematic circumstance of political polarization and power exertion that predictably suppresses particular viewpoints.

The First Amendment of fear qualifies as a political conception because it attends to social and economic power and locates solutions, ultimately if not exclusively, in the state. Although the closest causes of anxiety today often are other citizens, leveraging digital media and other technologies of terror, they are unlikely to be stopped solely by private means. Government has an obligation to ensure people’s security, and their sense of security, as a condition of meaningful political participation as cogovernors in a democracy. Whether that obligation itself has constitutional force is an interesting but different question, and regardless government ought to be constitutionally permitted to pursue the structural conditions for real

people’s meaningful exercise of the fundamental right to freedom of expression.

Is the political commitment to freedom from fear possible to implement in law, given existing First Amendment doctrine? There is some doubt. Part II explores that question in the context of state statutes criminalizing or otherwise regulating doxing.

II. Doxing and Silencing

In the little space that is left in this Essay, let’s consider attempts by law to guard against a particular cause of fear, namely doxing. These attempts face serious challenges under the First Amendment, since doxing typically constitutes speech that does not necessarily or obviously fall within an existing category of unprotected expression, and since it is regulated based on its content.26For decisions considering the constitutionality of doxing laws, see supra note 10. From the perspective of the First Amendment of fear, this legal circumstance could be seen as a matter of regret, insofar as doxing itself can have a powerful silencing effect on those it targets.27Although doxing nearly always constitutes speech, it does not always single out its targets because of their expression. Even when it does not, however, it can exert a silencing effect. There may be no way to assimilate that insight into the existing structure of free speech doctrine. Yet this Part cautiously explores one possible pathway.

Doxing can be understood in several ways. The Oxford English Dictionary defines it as “[t]he action or process of searching for and publishing private or identifying information about a particular individual on the internet, typically with malicious intent.”28Doxing, Oxford Eng. Dictionary, https://doi.org/10.1093/OED/6624632723 [https://perma.cc/V3TS-EJ3G]. At root, and colloquially, the practice involves publishing identifying information about someone in order to facilitate harm of that person by third parties. Yet not every element of this understanding is essential; arguably, the trucks that circled campuses displaying the names and images of students constituted doxing even though they did not involve the internet.29See, e.g., Karam, supra note 1 (using the phrase “doxxing truck”). And additional elements may be necessary, such as a particular level of mens rea, or a requirement that the information not already be publicly available, or that the target is not a public official.

California has an influential criminal statute that includes a specification of what constitutes doxing. It prohibits “electronically distribut[ing]” through various means “personal identifying information” of another person “with intent to place another person in reasonable fear for his or her safety, or the safety of the other person’s immediate family” and “for the purpose of imminently causing that other person unwanted physical contact, injury, or harassment . . . by a third party.”30Cal. Penal Code § 653.2(a) (West 2024). The statute also, but separately, prohibits distributing “an electronic message of a harassing nature about another person, which would be likely to incite or produce that unlawful action.” Id. Among the exceptions is the distribution of information with the target’s consent.31See id.

Though the California criminal statute does not use the term doxing, it has been understood to regulate that activity. A newer state law provides a civil cause of action for “doxing,” which it defines using much the same language as the criminal provision.32Cal. Civ. Code § 1708.89(a)(1) (West 2024). Here is the language:

“Doxes” means an act when a person, with intent to place another person in reasonable fear for their safety, or the safety of the other person’s immediate family, by means of an electronic communication device, and without consent of the other person, and for the purpose of imminently causing that other person unwanted physical contact, injury, or harassment, by a third party, electronically distributes, publishes, emails, hyperlinks, or makes available for downloading, personal identifying information, including, but not limited to, a digital image of another person, or an electronic message of a harassing nature about another person, which would be likely to incite or produce that unlawful action.
Legislative history shows that state lawmakers intended to provide a civil cause of action for doxing, referencing the criminal statute.33A.B. 1979, 2023–2024, Reg. Sess. (Cal. 2024). Also, Stanford University’s “Anti-Doxxing Policy” appears to be modeled on the California statutes and uses substantially the same definition of the prohibited activity.34Anti-Doxxing Policy, Stanford Univ. Bull., https://bulletin.stanford.edu/academic-polices/student-conduct-rights/anti-doxxing [https://perma.cc/L5D5-4UE6]; see David Cremins, Defending the Public Quad: Doxxing, Campus Speech Policies, and the First Amendment, 76 Stan. L. Rev. 1813, 1821 (2024) (noting that Stanford’s anti-doxing provision was modeled on California’s law, and that it passed the Faculty Senate with “near-unanimous support”).

Notable here is California’s use of the term “fear” to indicate the harm that it seeks to protect against. Apparently, the state believes that disabling anxiety on the part of victims is serious enough to warrant a criminal prohibition. And the statute recognizes that the electronic distribution of personal information has the power to generate a specific kind of harm, and to an extraordinary degree. Yet the statute also limits itself to fear of “physical contact, injury, or harassment,” not just anticipation of political criticism or even social ostracism, without more. Though there is considerable variation among state doxing statutes on this and other questions, the California approach is among the most straightforward.35For an example of a state statute that regulates doxing by name, see Wash. Rev. Code § 4.24.792 (2024). For an example of a law that does not use the term and is narrower in that it only applies to the disclosure of telephone numbers and home addresses, see Tex. Penal Code Ann. § 42.074 (West 2023). Also notable is that the California statute does not exempt news reporting, perhaps because lawmakers reasoned that the intent requirement would not be satisfied and therefore an explicit exemption was unnecessary.

Could the California statute withstand a First Amendment challenge?36The statute has been applied by courts, none of which have reached the constitutional question. Dziubla v. Piazza, 273 Cal. Rptr. 3d 297, 306–07 (2020); People v. Shivers, 186 Cal. Rptr. 3d 352, 356–358 (2015); see Cremins, supra note 34, at 1819 (“Since its passage in 2008, Section 653.2 has apparently never been challenged on First Amendment grounds . . . .” (footnote omitted)). The difficulty, of course, is that the distribution of personal identifying information could itself be seen to be expression, or expressive conduct. And if the Speech Clause is implicated, then plausibly it requires strict scrutiny of the California statute, which regulates on the basis of content.37See Cremins, supra note 34, at 1823, 1824 n.51 (noting that doxing rules single out speech on the basis of content). After all, the statute only prohibits a specific kind of speech, namely the distribution of certain identifying information using a particular medium. And whether the statute is narrowly tailored to a compelling government interest is unclear.38For examples of decisions finding that strict scrutiny was satisfied, see Kratovil, 261 N.J. at 26 (“we hold that when it enacted Daniel’s Law, the Legislature carefully calibrated the statute to serve a state interest of the highest order by the least restrictive means”), and Atlas Data Privacy Corp., 758 F. Supp. 3d at 337.

Under one theory, the California statute might be constitutional because it regulates a type of threat. On this approach, the regulated content would fall within a traditional category of unprotected speech. Compare California’s threat statute. It criminalizes threatening another person with “death or great bodily injury” with the specific intent that the statement be taken as a threat and under circumstances that convey a specific and immediate danger so that the target “reasonably . . . [is] in sustained fear for his or her own safety or for his or her immediate family’s safety.”39The relevant section of the statute reads, in full:

Any person who willfully threatens to commit a crime which will result in death or great bodily injury to another person, with the specific intent that the statement, made verbally, in writing, or by means of an electronic communication device, is to be taken as a threat, even if there is no intent of actually carrying it out, which, on its face and under the circumstances in which it is made, is so unequivocal, unconditional, immediate, and specific as to convey to the person threatened, a gravity of purpose and an immediate prospect of execution of the threat, and thereby causes that person reasonably to be in sustained fear for his or her own safety or for his or her immediate family’s safety, shall be punished by imprisonment in the county jail not to exceed one year, or by imprisonment in the state prison.

Cal. Penal Code § 422(a) (West 2024).
Threat statutes do typically guard against a particular kind of “fear.”40Counterman v. Colorado, 143 S. Ct. 2106, 2114 (2023) (“True threats subject individuals to ‘fear of violence’ and to the many kinds of ‘disruption that fear engenders.’ ” (quoting Virginia v. Black, 538 U.S. 343, 360 (2003))). Conceivably, California’s doxing statute regulates a subset of threat—a specific kind of statement, made through a particular medium, that causes the target to feel insecure, particularly with regard to safety. Both statutes have an intent requirement and they both apply only to reasonable fears and imminent dangers. Neither requires the violence to eventuate because both recognize that the fear itself is harmful.

To be sure, there are differences that may be important. Crucially, the doxing statute shields against statements that risk harm not by the speaker, but by a third party. For this reason, it could be reasonably argued that incitement is the category of unprotected speech that is more closely analogous to doxing.41Under this alternative, a doxing conviction would have to meet the Brandenburg test, according to which “the constitutional guarantees of free speech and free press do not permit a State to forbid or proscribe advocacy of the use of force or of law violation except where such advocacy is directed to inciting or producing imminent lawless action and is likely to incite or produce such action.” Brandenburg v. Ohio, 395 U.S. 444, 447 (1969). But incitement does not centrally involve fear, which seems essential to the harm of doxing.

If it is correct that doxing can count as a type of threat, then its prohibition could be seen as having a kind of derivative constitutionality. Threats constitute a category of unprotected speech, under established Supreme Court doctrine.42Counterman, 143 S. Ct. at 2113 (“True threats of violence, everyone agrees, lie outside the bounds of the First Amendment’s protection.”). If California has criminalized a species of threat, then its doxing statute could survive under that First Amendment doctrine. Importantly, the state would have to require at least a recklessness level of mens rea to avoid chilling protected activity.43Id. But because the doxing statute requires an “intent” and a “purpose,” it could be construed to clear that bar.44Cal. Penal Code § 653.2(a) (West 2024).

A possible doctrinal objection is that the Supreme Court protected an early form of doxing in NAACP v. Claiborne Hardware.45NAACP v. Claiborne Hardware Co., 458 U.S. 886 (1982). That decision is mainly known for its holding that a civil rights boycott of white-owned businesses was constitutionally protected.46Id. at 914. Less well known is the Court’s holding that recording the names of customers who violated the boycott, reading those names at meetings, and publishing the names in a newspaper could not be punished.47Id. at 925–26. If boycott enforcers from the NAACP intended to threaten these customers by causing them to fear that they would be identified to third parties who would harm them, then their activity of recording names looks like doxing. And the Court held that the organizers “admittedly sought to persuade others to join the boycott through social pressure and the ‘threat’ of social ostracism” but that “[s]peech does not lose its protected character . . . simply because it may embarrass others or coerce them into action.”48Id. at 910–11. Violence did occur in the course of the boycott, but still, the Court held that publishing names of boycott violators could not be punished. This could be understood as precedent for protecting doxing.

Yet the Court also reaffirmed that both violence and the threat of violence are unprotected and could be punished.49Id. at 916 (“[T]here is no question that acts of violence occurred. No federal rule of law restricts a State from imposing tort liability for business losses that are caused by violence and by threats of violence.”). What the First Amendment requires is precision, not protection of threatening speech.

When [violence or a threat] occurs in the context of constitutionally protected activity . . . ‘precision of regulation’ is demanded. Specifically, the presence of activity protected by the First Amendment imposes restraints on the grounds that may give rise to damages liability and on the persons who may be held accountable for those damages.50Id. at 916–17 (quoting NAACP v. Button, 371 U.S. 415, 438 (1963)).

In the context of doxing, this may provide good reason to require an elevated level of mens rea.51Cf. id. at 919 (noting that, in the context of those who associate with others who commit violence, “to punish association with such a group, there must be clear proof that a defendant specifically intends to accomplish the aims of the organization by resort to violence”) (alterations and internal quotation marks omitted). The lesson may be that while speech that identifies perceived wrongdoers cannot be punished, particularly when it addresses matters of public concern, speech that identifies individuals for the specific purpose of eliciting violence can be prohibited because criminalization with that elevated level of intent constitutes “precision of regulation.” Whether the “doxing truck” at Columbia could be criminalized under this approach would depend, in part, on whether it was operated with the requisite level of intent.

Another possible objection is that punishing only doxing that is specifically intended to elicit fear of violence, and that qualifies as a type of threat, does not match people’s common understanding of doxing. On this objection, it is undesirable for there to be a mismatch between the social meaning of a term like doxing and the legal prohibition that seeks to address the harm. That is reasonable. If the truck at Columbia were not motivated by the requisite intent, such that it did not constitute doxing as a legal matter, some would view that as a fault of the statute. One response is that not protecting against doxing at all, or doing so only through existing statutes designed for other purposes, also fails to match people’s reasonable expectation that the law should address serious harms. Another response is that many people seemingly do think that doxing involves “malicious intent” in the words of the Oxford definition, if not necessarily intent relative to violence.52See supra text accompanying note 28. So maybe the mismatch is not so egregious.

Another mismatch is that the proposal here only prohibits doxing that creates a fear of violence, not also harassment.53Cremins argues that doxing statutes should only punish in which there is a threat of physical contact or injury. Cremins, supra note 34, at 1827–29, 1832. That is because it is unclear whether a statute that guarded against fear of harassment, without more, would fall within the category of unprotected speech for true threats.54Note that the California threat statute only protects against fear of “death or great bodily injury” or lack of safety of self or family. See supra text accompanying note 39. So here too, there is a potential mismatch between the proposal and colloquial understandings of doxing—an awkwardness that may simply be a cost of fitting this particular protection against disabling fear into the existing constitutional doctrine.

This proposal would bring the regulation of doxing within the unprotected category of threatening speech. Still, it is unfortunate that First Amendment law is being understood to require strict scrutiny of all speech regulations that fall outside a recognized category of unprotected speech, such as threats. As Genevieve Lakier and Evelyne Douek have argued, the Supreme Court has moved away from its traditional practice of evaluating speech regulations with respect to First Amendment values and competing considerations.55Lakier & Douek, supra note 8, at 216 (taking no position on the constitutionality of laws against doxing, inter alia, but arguing that the issue should be confronted “head-on,” and not through the “distorted kaleidoscope” of current doctrine, with its categories of unprotected speech and its assumption that all speech regulation outside them will draw strict scrutiny); see id. at 217 (arguing that “the First Amendment provides more latitude to legislatures to protect individuals from this kind of fear-inducing speech than a superficial reading of the Court’s recent precedents implies”). In this context, as noted, doxing regulation could serve important free speech values, especially by protecting victims against the sort of disabling hesitation that effectively silences them. So it could be said that in at least some cases there are expressive interests on both sides of a statute like California’s. A full consideration of values would take that symmetry into account.

Yet, for now, unless and until there is a meaningful change in the ideology or composition of the Roberts Court, the binary approach to speech doctrine must be taken as a fixed feature of constitutional law. And under that approach, a doxing statute like this one can best survive if it is understood to regulate a subset of threatening speech.

  Conclusion

From the perspective of the First Amendment of fear, government ought to be at least permitted, if not required, to safeguard the conditions under which people have a meaningful and not just formal ability to participate in democratic discourse and otherwise express themselves freely. One obstacle to that freedom is the systematic apprehension of speaking on certain topics. Unfreedom of this kind is worth protecting against. Government has the ability and the responsibility to ensure expressive security—not freedom from fear of criticism or rebuke, but freedom from systematic fear of violence, at the very least. Arguably, this kind of safety is essential to expression. Doxing legislation may be one example of government protection that, despite facing constitutional hurdles, can be crafted so that it does more to promote than to frustrate First Amendment imperatives.

98 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1413

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* Jane M.G. Foster Professor of Law, Cornell Law School. Thanks to Evelyn Douek, Eugene Volokh, participants in the Southern California Law Review symposium, and the staff of the law review for comments and suggestions. The author served as an observer for a committee of the Uniform Law Commission on doxing, but the arguments here do not reflect the views of the committee.

Protecting Listeners From Unwanted One-to-One Speech

I. The Value of the One-to-One vs. One-to-Many Line

“[N]o one has a right to press even ‘good’ ideas on an unwilling recipient,” the Supreme Court held in Rowan v. United States Post Office Department.1Rowan v. U.S. Post Off. Dep’t, 397 U.S. 728, 738 (1970). At the same time, “[t]he fact that society may find speech offensive is not a sufficient reason for suppressing it. Indeed, if it is the speaker’s opinion that gives offense, that consequence is a reason for according it constitutional protection.”2Hustler Mag., Inc. v. Falwell, 485 U.S. 46, 55 (1988) (cleaned up). That is generally true even if the speaker’s opinion gives offense not just to “society” but to many of the speaker’s listeners.3Bolger v. Youngs Drug Prods. Corp., 463 U.S. 60, 72 (1983).

The best way to reconcile these principles, it seems to me, is to distinguish (1) one-to-one speech said to an unwilling listener from (2) one-to-many speech that reaches both potentially willing and unwilling listeners.4Eugene Volokh, One-to-One Speech vs. One-to-Many Speech, Criminal Harassment Laws, and “Cyberstalking”, 107 Nw. U. L. Rev. 731 (2013); Eugene Volokh, Freedom of Speech in Cyberspace from the Listener’s Perspective: Private Speech Restrictions, Libel, State Action, Harassment, and Sex, 1996 U. Chi. Legal F. 377, 421–23 (1996); Eugene Volokh, Thinking Ahead About Freedom of Speech and Hostile Work Environment Harassment, 17 Berkeley J. Emp. & Lab. L. 305, 311 (1996); Eugene Volokh, Freedom of Speech and Workplace Harassment, 39 UCLA L. Rev. 1791, 1863–67 (1992) (using the terms “directed” and “undirected” instead of “one-to-one” and “one-to-many”). Ashutosh Bhagwat well explains both the precedents and the policy arguments supporting the distinction. Most speech should generally be protected because it may persuade or inform some potentially willing listeners even if others are upset.5Ashutosh Bhagwat, Respecting Listeners’ Autonomy: The Right to be Left Alone, 98 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1129, 1145 (2025). But speech said solely to an unwilling listener, where it’s clear the listener is unwilling, is likely only to offend. The government can in many situations help protect listeners against such one-to-one speech, because that promotes the unwilling listener’s autonomy without interfering with communication to potentially willing listeners.6Id. at 1145–48.

And this helps explain the constitutionality of many common speech restrictions, including:

  1. telephone harassment laws,7Volokh, One-to-One Speech, supra note 4, at 740.
  2. do-not-call registries,8See, e.g., Patriotic Veterans, Inc. v. Zoeller, 845 F.3d 303, 306 (7th Cir. 2017).
  3. harassment restraining orders that forbid speech to the protected person,9Volokh, One-to-One Speech, supra note 4, at 741.
  4. application of university “hostile environment harassment” policies to people “following students around and yelling slurs or otherwise directing hostile speech at individual students who have demanded to be left alone,”10Bhagwat, supra note 5, at 1153.
  5. application of workplace harassment law to one-to-one insults, or one-to-one repeated unwanted romantic advances,11Volokh, Freedom of Speech and Workplace Harassment, supra note 4, at 1863–68.
  6. residential picketing laws,12Bhagwat, supra note 5, at 1144-45. and more.

II.  Must Restrictions on Unwanted One-to-One Speech Be Content-Neutral?

This general conclusion, however, raises subsidiary questions. A particularly important one is whether restrictions on one-to-one speech must be content-neutral.

There is precedent suggesting this, as well as broader First Amendment principles supporting such a view. Frisby v. Schultz upheld a content-neutral residential picketing ban on the grounds that such picketing is essentially speech targeted to the unwilling listener in the home.13Frisby v. Schultz, 487 U.S. 474, 486, 488 (1988). But Carey v. Brown had earlier struck down a residential picketing ban that excluded labor picketing because that exclusion made the law content-based.14Carey v. Brown, 447 U.S. 455, 470–71 (1980). It was the content neutrality of the ban in Frisby that saved it.15Frisby, 487 U.S. at 481, 488.

We see something similar in Rowan v. United States Post Office Department.16Rowan v. U.S. Post Off. Dep’t, 397 U.S. 728, 738 (1970). Rowan upheld a statute that barred senders from sending material to householders, once the householder informed the post office that he “in his sole discretion believes [the mailings] to be erotically arousing or sexually provocative.”17Id. at 730. The statute was thus content-based on its face, but the Court stressed it was essentially content-neutral as enforced:

Both the absoluteness of the citizen’s right under [the statute] and its finality are essential; what may not be provocative to one person may well be to another. In operative effect the power of the householder under the statute is unlimited; he may prohibit the mailing of a dry goods catalog because he objects to the contents—or indeed the text of the language touting the merchandise. Congress provided this sweeping power not only to protect privacy but to avoid possible constitutional questions that might arise from vesting the power to make any discretionary evaluation of the material in a governmental official.18Id. at 737.

Yet if content neutrality is indeed required in such situations, then many restrictions on one-to-one speech would be hard to defend. Telephone harassment laws, for instance, often specially target lewd or indecent harassing calls.19See, e.g., Wash. Rev. Code Ann. § 9.61.230 (2024). Workplace harassment law ends up specially targeting one-to-one speech that is personally insulting.

Likewise, when various laws target one-to-one speech intended to “harass” or “abuse,” they must be treated as content-based. As the Court held in Reed v. Town of Gilbert, “[s]ome facial distinctions based on a message are obvious, defining regulated speech by particular subject matter, and others are more subtle, defining regulated speech by its function or purpose. Both are distinctions drawn based on the message a speaker conveys, and, therefore, are subject to strict scrutiny.”20Reed v. Town of Gilbert, 576 U.S. 155, 163–64 (2015). When the “regulated speech” is defined by a purpose to harass or abuse, that definition generally targets speech that has a harassing or abusive “message.” The definition is therefore content-based.

More broadly, when even a “generally applicable law” is “directed at [a speaker] because of what his speech communicated”—when the speaker violates the law “because of the offensive content of his particular message”—that too is treated as a “content-based regulation of speech.”21Holder v. Humanitarian L. Project, 561 U.S. 1, 28 (2010). This would cover most harassment laws, at least when speech is found to be harassing because of its offensiveness rather than because it’s too loud or ties up telephone lines.

Indeed, relatively few of these laws actually set up Rowan-like rules that (1) require the listener to first tell a speaker, “stop speaking to me,” but then (2) make that order binding regardless of what the speaker wants to say. The laws are indeed aimed at “address[ing] the ‘first blow’ of curse words spoken only once.”22Bhagwat, supra note 5, at 1154. At the same time, they aim to avoid giving someone an absolute veto on future communications: consider, for instance, workplace harassment, where the law can’t let employees categorically forbid any future communications (including on legitimate work-related topics) by coworkers.

Now perhaps that’s the wrong approach—perhaps the law should indeed insist on content neutrality even as to restrictions on unwanted one-to-one speech. Or perhaps content-based restrictions should indeed be subjected to strict scrutiny but might in some situations be upheld.

But I think it might be better to recognize that at least some such content-based restrictions are permissible when it comes to one-to-one speech, even if they wouldn’t be permissible as to one-to-many speech. The Court has acknowledged that content-based restrictions may be constitutional when “substantial privacy interests are being invaded in an essentially intolerable manner.”23Erznoznik v. City of Jacksonville, 422 U.S. 205, 209–10 (1975) (quoting Cohen v. California, 403 U.S. 15, 21 (1971)). Perhaps the “privacy interests” here should be read as not just focusing on privacy in the home, or true captivity of a sort where it is “impractical for the unwilling viewer or auditor to avoid exposure.”24Id. at 209. Rather, perhaps they should also be seen as including intrusions on the listener’s autonomy rights that Professor Bhagwat rightly identifies: the targeting of a particular likely unwilling listener for one-to-one speech may be what is “essentially intolerable.”

R.A.V. v. City of St. Paul25R.A.V. v. City of St. Paul, 505 U.S. 377 (1992). may provide a helpful framework for dealing with this. The Court in R.A.V. held that content-based restrictions must generally be subject to strict scrutiny even when they are limited to subsets of unprotected categories of speech. For instance, a ban on racist fighting words would be presumptively unconstitutional even though a ban on all fighting words would be valid.26Id. at 386. But the Court also held that this principle has certain exceptions, again where the content discrimination is entirely within an unprotected category; the relevant exceptions are:

  1. “[w]hen the basis for the content discrimination consists entirely of the very reason the entire class of speech at issue is proscribable,”27Id. at 388. for instance when the law restricts “only that obscenity which is the most patently offensive in its prurience,” or “only those threats” that are especially disruptive;28Id.
  2. when “a particular content-based subcategory of a proscribable class of speech” is “swept up incidentally within the reach of a statute directed at conduct rather than speech”;29Id. and
  3. when “the nature of the content discrimination is such that there is no realistic possibility that official suppression of ideas is afoot.”30Id. at 390.

The same might apply with regard to subcategories of likely unwanted one-to-one speech, if Professor Bhagwat and I are right that such speech is essentially constitutionally unprotected. Indecent harassing phone calls, for instance, may well be especially likely to be unwanted, and a restriction on such calls may indeed be unlikely to involve “official suppression of ideas.”

Likewise, a prohibition of one-to-one speech intended to abuse or harass might be justified on the same theory, and might also be “swept up incidentally within the reach of a statute directed at conduct rather than speech,” given that such harassment laws often do target nonspeech conduct (such as physical stalking) as well as speech. R.A.V. itself gave hostile environment harassment law as an example of a law that may “incidentally” “swe[ep] up” “sexually derogatory ‘fighting words,’ among other words,” because it bans a wide range of conduct as well as speech.31Id. at 389. Likewise, the law may incidentally sweep up derogatory unwanted one-to-one speech more broadly. (For reasons I explain elsewhere, this rationale does not extend to offensive one-to-many ideological expression, even when it’s viewed as sexist, racist, and the like.32Volokh, Freedom of Speech and Workplace Harassment, supra note 4, at 1848–55.)

III.  When Must the Government Tolerate One-to-One Speech to Government Officials?

Though one-to-one speech to unwilling listeners may generally be forbidden, the analysis must be different when the speech is addressed to government employees on the job, especially public-facing employees. I agree with Professor Bhagwat that listeners generally have considerable autonomy interests in not hearing unwanted speech—interests that the government may protect. But when one works for the public,33Query whether the same principle should also apply to public-facing employees of some private companies as well. one must accept the risk of disapproving speech from the public:

[R]eceiving mail from disgruntled constituents is usual for a politician. A person “who decides to seek governmental office must accept certain necessary consequences of that involvement in public affairs . . . [and] runs the risk of closer public scrutiny than might otherwise be the case.” Here, given Michael’s status as a selectman and the content of the letters, it cannot be said that Michael’s “substantial privacy interests [were] invaded in an essentially intolerable manner.”34Commonwealth v. Bigelow, 59 N.E.3d 1105, 1113 (Mass. 2016) (citations omitted).

This is particularly clear for elected officials,35Id. at 1108, 1112 (town council member); U.S. Postal Serv. v. Hustler Mag., Inc., 630 F. Supp. 867 (D.D.C. 1986) (Congressman); Hicks v. Faris, No. 1:20-CV-680, 2024 WL 4011824, at *14 (S.D. Ohio Aug. 30, 2024) (county treasurer); see also United States v. Yung, 37 F.4th 70, 78–79 (3d Cir. 2022) (dictum) (city councilman). candidates for office,36State v. Drahota, 788 N.W.2d 796, 798, 804 (Neb. 2010) (candidate for state legislature); United States v. Sryniawski, 48 F.4th 583, 587 (8th Cir. 2022) (same). or high-level political appointees.37United States v. Popa, 187 F.3d 672, 673 (D.C. Cir. 1999) (U.S. Attorney). But it may be true for lower-level public-facing employees as well, such as police officers38State v. Fratzke, 446 N.W.2d 781, 782, 785 (Iowa 1989). or others.39State v. Golga, 239 N.E.3d 1165 (Ohio Ct. App.) (water department). Some cases do allow punishing offensive speech to such employees,40State v. White, No. 2024CA00044, 2025 WL 354802 (Ohio Ct. App. Jan. 29, 2025) (police officer); United States v. Waggy, 936 F.3d 1014, 1015 (9th Cir. 2019) (Veterans Administration employee). but I think they’re mistaken.41Cf. Hagedorn v. Cattani, 715 F. App’x 499, 507 (6th Cir. 2017) (viewing the Rowan principle as applicable to speech to a mayor’s personal email account because it is the “functional equivalent of a home mailbox”).

IV. The Borders of “One-to-One”

Finally, “one-to-one” and “one-to-many,” like many such useful general phrases, may not fully capture the legal principles that courts should and do apply. To give one example, say someone is speaking simultaneously to three listeners, all of whom have asked the speaker to stop bothering them. That’s technically one-to-three speech, not one-to-one speech. But it should be restrictable as tantamount to one-to-one speech, precisely because it is addressed solely at unwilling listeners.

Likewise, say Wendy Smith’s ex-husband Harry Smith posts a Facebook message on his own page saying, “My ex @WendySmith is a slimy trollop.” (This @ syntax is specifically designed to notify the Facebook user WendySmith about the post; Twitter and Instagram have the same feature.) It is thus more or less like an e-mail to Wendy (one-to-one speech), coupled with a post about her to the author’s friends (one-to-many speech). If Wendy gets a harassment restraining order barring further correspondence from Harry, it would be constitutionally permissible for that order to be interpreted as banning such mentions; Harry would still be able to communicate with his friends by posting the same item without the @ (“My ex Wendy Smith is a slimy trollop”).42See, e.g., ARM v. KJL, 995 N.W.2d 361, 368–69 (Mich. Ct. App. 2022).

The hardest question arises when speech appears to be largely aimed at a particular unwilling listener but also reaches some other listeners. This is what the Court faced in Frisby v. Schultz, where it reasoned that residential “picketing is narrowly directed at the household, not the public”:

The type of picketers banned by the Brookfield ordinance generally do not seek to disseminate a message to the general public, but to intrude upon the targeted resident, and to do so in an especially offensive way. Moreover, even if some such picketers have a broader communicative purpose, their activity nonetheless inherently and offensively intrudes on residential privacy. . . .

Because the picketing prohibited by the Brookfield ordinance is speech directed primarily at those who are presumptively unwilling to receive it, the State has a substantial and justifiable interest in banning it.43Frisby v. Schultz, 487 U.S. 474, 487–88 (1988).

Here the speech wasn’t “foisted (exclusively) upon unwilling listeners”44Bhagwat, supra note 5, at 1147.—presumably at least some residential picketers also want to reach the resident’s neighbors.45See Schultz v. Frisby, 807 F.2d 1339, 1341 (7th Cir. 1986), vacated, 818 F.2d 1284 (7th Cir. 1987). Rather, the Court says the speech was targeted “primarily” at the resident and acknowledges that it might have also had “a broader communicative purpose.”

Distinguishing the “primary” audience from the “secondary” is of course subjective, plus it’s not clear why even secondary audiences should be ignored. For instance, if animal rights protesters are picketing outside a fur store, is their speech “directed primarily” at buyers, who are likely “unwilling to receive” the message (especially if the message is framed harshly)? After all, fur buyers presumably know well where the fur comes from—and like it. Or is the speech directed at least equally to neighbors and passersby, or to the likely relatively rare ambivalent customer?

Likewise, most people who go to abortion clinics are likely unwilling to hear from anti-abortion protesters and counselors, but some might be open to their arguments.46See McCullen v. Coakley, 573 U.S. 464, 473 (2014) (“In unrefuted testimony, petitioners say they have collectively persuaded hundreds of women to forgo abortions.”). Most people who go to churches, synagogues, or mosques that are being picketed are unwilling to hear from protesters,47For cases upholding right to picket outside places of worship, see generally Survivors Network of Those Abused by Priests, Inc. v. Joyce, 779 F.3d 785 (8th Cir. 2015); Gerber v. Herskovitz, No. 22-1075, 2023 WL 2155050 (6th Cir. Feb. 22, 2023). but again some might be persuadable.

I’m not sure how this line is to be properly drawn. Perhaps courts should view Frisby as limited to “residential privacy,” given its reliance on the precedents saying that, “[a]lthough in many locations, we expect individuals simply to avoid speech they do not want to hear, the home is different.”48Frisby, 487 U.S. at 484 (citing Erznoznik v. City of Jacksonville, 422 U.S. 205, 210–11 (1975), and Cohen v. California, 403 U.S. 15, 21–22 (1971)). On the other hand, there will always be arguments for extending this sort of extra protection beyond the home to medical facilities,49Hill v. Colorado, 530 U.S. 703, 718 (2000). funeral homes,50Phelps-Roper v. Ricketts, 867 F.3d 883 (8th Cir. 2017); Phelps-Roper v. Strickland, 539 F.3d 356 (6th Cir. 2008). high schools,51Blythe v. City of San Diego, No. 24-CV-02211-GPC-DDL, 2025 WL 108185, at *4 (S.D. Cal. Jan. 14, 2025). places of worship,52Id. at *1. and more. Here, I just want to acknowledge the difficulty that this issue raises.

  Conclusion

The one-to-one/one-to-many distinction is critical to understanding how and when unwilling listeners may be protected. I hope this short article has helpfully elaborated on a few questions the distinction raises.

98 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1427

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* Thomas M. Siebel Senior Fellow, Hoover Institution (Stanford); Gary T. Schwartz Distinguished Professor of Law Emeritus, UCLA.

Vol. 98 Editor’s Note

EDITOR’S NOTE

 

The articles in Volume 98, Number 5 of the Southern California Law Review were delivered as papers at a symposium on “The First Amendment and Listener Interests” in November 2024. The symposium was organized in coordination with Professors Erin Miller, Rebecca Brown, and Abby Wood, and with support from USC Gould School of Law.

Free speech rights affect the interests not just of speakers but also of listeners of speech. Listeners have interests as autonomous agents, thinkers, and voters, all of which are served by the information, ideas, reasons, and stimulus to thinking that listening to speech can provide. For this reason, many prominent free speech theories—and especially democratic theories—foreground listener interests.

Yet federal courts in constitutional free speech cases tend to focus on and privilege speakers, those who most clearly hold and exercise free speech rights, over listeners. Indeed, recent courts have increasingly turned away from earlier cases—involving, for instance, campaign finance, media regulation, and corporate and commercial speech—that explicitly recognized listener interests. Now, some First Amendment scholars are beginning to push back and suggest that this neglect of listener interests disserves both the doctrine and free speech theory.

Listener interests are at the heart of many high-profile legal questions, including ones involving commercial speech and telecommunications regulation. As the Supreme Court expands the number of entities that count as speakers, they may well set aside negative impacts on listeners. In Moody v. Netchoice, LLC, for example, the Court recently determined that social media platforms have free speech rights to “editorial discretion.” Such rights could, at least in theory, come into conflict with listeners’ access to information and discretion over what they consume.

Volume 98 of the Southern California Law Review is pleased to present this special symposium edition. This issue features a group of the nation’s leading scholars in First Amendment law providing various perspectives on contemporary issues in free speech rights from the perspective of listeners.

Editor-in-Chief & Managing Editor, Volume 98

The Care Act: A System of Coercion Masquerading as One of Compassion

Against the bleak backdrop of a cold November afternoon in San Francisco, Erica Stone faces a heart-wrenching dilemma. Her twenty-eight-year-old daughter, Monica, has been battling schizophrenia-induced psychosis since she was sixteen. Homeless and living just north of Market Street, Monica adamantly rejects her mother’s offers of psychiatric hospitalization, as she has done on many past occasions. Gripped with anxiety over her daughter’s safety, Monica’s refusal to seek treatment weighs heavily on her mind.

In years past, Erica would have been forced to return home after leaving Monica food and a sleeping bag, heart heavy with her daughter’s continued refusal to accept treatment, yet without any available recourse. However, a recent development in California’s mental health legislation has reshaped this narrative. As of December 1, 2023, the Community Assistance, Recovery, and Empowerment (“CARE”) Act grants Erica the ability to petition Monica into court-ordered treatment.1Community Assistance, Recovery, and Empowerment (CARE) Act, ch. 319, 2022 Cal. Legis. Serv. 1 (West 2024) (codified as amended at Cal. Welf. & Inst. Code §§ 5970–5987 (West 2024)). Now fully implemented across all fifty-eight California counties, the Act establishes a network of civil CARE Courts that can order those suffering from schizophrenia and related psychotic disorders into treatment programs at the community level.2Mary Kekatos, California’s CARE Court Program to Tackle Mental Illness Starts Next Month. What You Need to Know, ABC News (Sept. 25, 2023, 11:10 AM), https://abcnews.go.com/Health/californias-care-court-program-tackle-mental-illness-starts/story?id=103461370 [https://perma.cc/5DTX-8VTP].

Once Erica submits a petition on Monica’s behalf, affirming her eligibility for the CARE program as an individual with untreated schizophrenia, the petition undergoes evaluation by a CARE Court.3Id. For Monica to qualify for assistance through the CARE Act, the court must find that Monica is unlikely to survive safely in the community without supervision or that she is a threat to herself or others without support.4Manuela Tobias & Jocelyn Wiener, California Lawmakers Approved CARE Court. What Comes Next?, CalMatters (Sept. 14, 2022), https://calmatters.org/housing/2022/09/california-lawmakers-approved-care-court-what-comes-next [https://perma.cc/Q2RN-P5Y9]. If the court finds either of these to be true, the Act empowers the court to create a “Care Plan” for Monica that lasts up to twelve months, with the possibility to extend the plan for an additional year.5Id. This Plan may include provisions necessitating Monica’s relocation to emergency housing, mandatory participation in behavioral health treatment, and court-ordered stabilization medications.6Jocelyn Wiener & Manuela Tobias, CARE Court: Can California Counties Make It Work?, CalMatters (July 14, 2022), https://calmatters.org/health/2022/07/care-court-california [https://perma.cc/9ZPG-FSBY].

Created with the goal of connecting Californians suffering with schizophrenia and other related psychotic mental illnesses with treatment “before they end up cycling through prison, emergency rooms, or homeless encampments,” the CARE Act promises to advance upstream diversion from more restrictive conservatorships or incarceration.7Governor Newsom Statement on Introduction of CARE Court Legislation, Governor Gavin Newsom (Apr. 7, 2022), https://www.gov.ca.gov/2022/04/07/governor-newsom-statement-on-introduction-of-care-court-legislation [https://perma.cc/YQ3H-REB6]. However, if Monica fails to comply with her CARE program, she may be referred to conservatorship proceedings with a new factual presumption that no suitable alternatives to conservatorship are available.8Cal. Welf. & Inst. Code § 5979(a)(3) (West 2024) (“[T]he fact that the respondent failed to successfully complete their CARE plan . . . shall create a presumption at that hearing that the respondent needs additional intervention beyond the supports and services provided by the CARE plan.”).

This Note explores the implications of the CARE Act on California’s existing mental health landscape, while also pointing out certain deficiencies in the Act as it exists today. Part I of this Note explores the inner workings of the CARE Court framework, as well as the grounds for challenging a law as “vague” under the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. Part II argues that the CARE Act’s current eligibility criteria are unconstitutionally vague and are thus likely to result in arbitrary and discriminatory court enforcement. Part III goes on to propose possible amendments to the CARE Court framework that aim to protect against these potentially speculative and arbitrary judicial determinations. Part IV acknowledges the inherent limitations of these proposed amendments within the broader context of systemic change while underscoring the short-term necessity of these amendments in defending individuals’ due process rights.