The United States Supreme Court, with its black-robed justices and its marble columns, has long been regarded as the most formal and opaque branch of the federal government. While the president and the members of Congress have deliberately wooed the public with election campaigns that attempt to humanize the candidate, the justices have preferred to maintain the Court’s traditional aura of remote dignity by steadfastly refusing to televise its proceedings. Even the current willingness of some justices to present themselves directly to the public through extrajudicial writings and television interviews has not yet erased the public image of the Court as a solemn institution. When a legal scholar recently tracked the incidence of humorous exchanges during the Court’s oral arguments, the New York Times considered the idea of laughter at the Court worthy of a front page article. Yet even if there have been few occasions for laughter in the courtroom, the Court itself has in the past half century become a consistent source of humor in the pages of another, less solemn American institution, The New Yorker magazine. The emergence of the Court as a reliable subject for New Yorker cartoons suggests two related developments: the growing public awareness of the Court’s role in American life and the parallel willingness of the public to appreciate – and laugh at – the impact of the Court’s jurisprudence on its own domestic life.

The Supreme Court, in a line of several cases over the past decade, has established a rigorous federal constitutional excessiveness review for punitive damages awards based on the Due Process Clause. As a matter of substantive due process, says the Court, punitive awards must be evaluated by three “guideposts” set forth in BMW of North America v. Gore: the degree of reprehensibility of the defendant’s conduct, the ratio between punitive and compensatory damages, and a comparison of the amount of punitive damages to any “civil or criminal penalties that could be imposed for comparable misconduct.” Following up on this pronouncement in State Farm Mutual Automobile Insurance Company v. Campbell, the Court indicated that “few awards exceeding a single-digit ratio between punitive and compensatory damages, to a significant degree, will satisfy due process.” Unfortunately, neither the “guideposts” nor the single-digit multiple rule have any basis in the law of due process and represent nothing more than the imposition of the Court’s own standards for punishment in place of those of the states.

A movement is quietly gaining traction – state legislatures are enacting social policy through laws specially designed to evade constitutional review by the courts. These laws give individuals a private right of action to seek massive damages against those who engage in constitutionally protected but controversial conduct. The coercive nature of potential, massive civil liability has the same effect as an outright ban on constitutionally protected acts. But federal appellate courts have found legal challenges to these laws barred by the doctrines of Article III standing and state sovereign immunity. The resulting legislative arrogation of power is a dangerous trend, forewarned of by the Framers of the Constitution. It contravenes federal supremacy and upsets the balance of power among coordinate branches of government. This Article argues that the courts can address this new phenomenon based on time-honored constitutional principles and a long-overdue reevaluation of the doctrine of Ex parte Young.

Historically, habeas corpus relief has provided a remedy in extraordinary cases for prisoners incarcerated in violation of the U.S. Constitution. Habeas relief brings to mind gross injustices – prisoners serving sentences for crimes they did not commit or prisoners who are incarcerated because they were not represented by counsel at their trials. Yet under current law, prisoners serving enhanced federal sentences may reduce their sentences without necessarily proving that any constitutional violation or error has occurred

America’s fascination with fame and celebrities is self-evident. In our culture, fame is used effectively to persuade, inspire, and inform the public in almost every aspect of our lives. Thus, for celebrities, fame has an inherent economic value, which they endeavor to enhance and protect through the relatively recent legal doctrine of the right of publicity. Broadly defined, the right of publicity is the “inherent right of every human being to control the commercial use of his or her identity.” Celebrities invoke this right to prevent the unauthorized commercial use of their names, likenesses, or other aspects of their identities in order to protect and control their valuable personas.

Most First Amendment analyses of U.S. media policy have focused predominantly on “behavioral” regulation, which either prohibits the transmission of disfavored content (such as indecent programming) or mandates the dissemination of preferred content (such as children’s educational programming and political speech). In so doing, commentators have largely overlooked how program content is also affected by “structural” regulation, which focuses primarily on increasing the economic competitiveness of media industries. In this Article, Professor Christopher Yoo employs economic analysis to demonstrate how structural regulation can constitute a form of “architectural censorship” that has the unintended consequence of reducing the quantity, quality, and diversity of media content. The specific examples analyzed include (1) efforts to foster and preserve free television and radio, (2) rate regulation of cable television, (3) horizontal restrictions on the number of outlets one entity can own in a local market, and (4) regulations limiting vertical integration in television and radio. Unfortunately, current First Amendment doctrine effectively immunizes architectural censorship from meaningful constitutional scrutiny, and it appears unlikely that existing doctrine will change or that Congress or the Federal Communications Commission will step in to fill the void.

Ever since Mark Fowler’s 1982 article laid down the gauntlet to those who favor structural media regulation, legal academia has produced a host of free market acolytes advancing his views. These young academics increasingly dominate media law teaching and the FCC. Professor Christopher Yoo is one of this group’s best (as well as a personal friend). This short Comment on his article, Architectural Censorship and the FCC, is written not because I consider it uniquely objectionable, but rather because its fundamental errors and characteristic distortions are representative of this influential group of scholars. This Comment will start with observations about Yoo’s policy and economic analyses and then conclude with a critique of his desired constitutional regime.

This Article embarks on a reconstruction of constitutionalism in the early American Republic through a microhistorical case study of United States v. Peters, the first Supreme Court decision to strike down a state law. In the last half century, the Supreme Court has repeatedly asserted that it is the “ultimate expositor of the constitutional text.” From Cooper v. Aaron to United States v. Morrison, the Court has invoked no less than the authority of Chief Justice John Marshall and his opinion in Marbury v. Madison to burnish its claim of judicial supremacy. Several legal scholars have recently come to question this assertion, arguing that judicial supremacy deviates from the path of the Founders and is of a more recent vintage. This Article both extends and questions the important project of these critics.

The traditional Fourth Amendment search-and-seizure doctrine was fine for an age of flintlocks, and maybe even for an age of automatic weapons. In the past, ordinary crime, even heinous crime, almost always had a limited impact. But one must wonder whether our traditional constitutional doctrine, without more, is up to the task of governing all searches and seizures in an age of weapons of mass destruction and potential terrorism. This Article explores this question and concludes that traditional doctrine falls short in an age of threats unprecedented in their potential for harm. We propose that, because of the potential harms posed by catastrophic threats, courts should come to recognize that a fresh look at the probable-cause standard is necessary. We contend that, if properly conducted, largescale searches undertaken to prevent horrific potential harms may be constitutionally sound even when the search of each particular location does not satisfy the traditional probable-cause requirement that such search have a “fair probability” or a “substantial chance” of yielding the object sought. As we discuss at more length below, established Fourth Amendment doctrine requires “individualized suspicion” for each person or place to be searched. We argue, however, that even where that element is lacking, the government’s search for a weapon of mass destruction4 may be permissible if the Supreme Court’s “special needs” exception to the probable-cause requirement is extended. Specifically, such a search should be permissible if (1) the search is justified by special needs that go beyond routine police functions; (2) the search program is reasonably designed to be as effective as is practical with the aim of preventing or minimizing harm to the public; (3) the procedure will give law enforcement constrained discretion in executing the search, and the search is not discriminatory in application; and (4) weighing the total circumstances, the balance between the governmental and societal need to search, weighed against the infringed-upon privacy of individuals, favors search.

The immediate impact of Grutter v. Bollinger and Gratz v. Bollinger is nothing short of momentous. Not only do the Supreme Court’s most recent affirmative action decisions settle the deeply contested question of whether race may be considered in higher education admissions, but they also, more broadly, envision permissible and impermissible uses of racial classifications in that context, and surface new, challenging questions about the official use of affirmative action.

Yet Grutter and Gratz are also momentous for what they tell us about the long-term struggle over the structure of equal protection doctrine. This struggle, which has been under way for decades, will affect the future of equality analyses far beyond affirmative action.