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

Download

* 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

Download

* 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.

Public Protest and Governmental Immunities

This Article presents the findings of a quantitative and qualitative study of the application of qualified immunity and other governmental immunities in the context of public protest. Relying on three unique datasets of federal court decisions examining First Amendment and Fourth Amendment claims, the Article concludes that public protester plaintiffs face an array of obstacles when suing state, local, and federal officials for constitutional injuries. Quantitative findings show that protesters’ claims are frequently dismissed under qualified immunity doctrines and that plaintiffs also face strict limits on municipal liability, new restrictions on First Amendment retaliation claims, and the possible extinction of monetary actions against federal officials. Qualitatively, the study shows protesters’ rights are underdeveloped in several respects, including recognition of the right to record law enforcement and limits on law enforcement’s use of force. The study lends additional support and new urgency to calls for qualified immunity reform or repeal, as well as reconsideration of other governmental immunities. It also concludes that much more than money damages for injured plaintiffs is at stake. Lack of adequate civil remedies may significantly chill future public protest organizing and participation.

INTRODUCTION

Between January 2020 and June 2021, there were more than thirty thousand public demonstrations in the United States.1See Armed Assembly: Guns, Demonstrations, and Political Violence in America, Everytown for Gun Safety Support Fund (Aug. 23, 2021), https://everytownresearch.org/report/armed-assembly-guns-demonstrations-and-political-violence-in-america [https://perma.cc/25AY-SGR3]. In what were perhaps the largest public protests in American history, an estimated fifteen to twenty-six million protesters gathered in the nation’s public streets after George Floyd’s murder.2Larry Buchanan, Quoctrung Bui & Jugal K. Patel, Black Lives Matter May Be the Largest Movement in U.S. History, N.Y. Times (July 3, 2020), https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/07/03/us/george-floyd-protests-crowd-size.html [https://web.archive.org/web/20200703122637/https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/07/03/us/george-floyd-protests-crowd-size.html]. Although the demonstrations were predominantly peaceful, state and local law enforcement used aggressive policing methods to restrict and suppress them.3See Talia Buford, Lucas Waldron, Moiz Syed & Al Shaw, We Reviewed Police Tactics Seen in Nearly 400 Protest Videos. Here’s What We Found., ProPublica (July 16, 2020), https://projects.propublica.org/protest-police-tactics [https://perma.cc/B72L-F66N] (finding officers punched, pushed, and kicked retreating protesters and used pepper spray, tear gas, and batons against non-combative demonstrators); Kim Barker, Mike Baker & Ali Watkins, In City After City, Police Mishandled Black Lives Matter Protests, N.Y. Times (Mar. 20, 2021), https://www.nytimes.com/2021/03/20/us/protests-policing-george-floyd.html [https://perma.cc/6NCZ-WWEB] (drawing similar conclusions). Officers beat protesters with batons, rammed them with bicycles, used dangerous crowd containment strategies, arrested protesters without probable cause, used tear gas and other “less-lethal” force against peaceful assemblies, and unlawfully arrested legal observers including members of the press.4Mark Berman & Emily Wax-Thibodeaux, Police Keep Using Force Against Peaceful Protesters, Prompting Sustained Criticism About Tactics and Training, Wash. Post (June 4, 2020, 1:02 PM), https://www.washingtonpost.com/national/police-keep-using-force-against-peaceful-protesters-prompting-sustained-criticism-about-tactics-and-training/2020/06/03/5d2f51d4-a5cf-11ea-bb20-ebf0921f3bbd_story.html [https://perma.cc/9QZQ-7VL9]; see Ashley Southall, N.Y. Attorney General Sues N.Y.P.D. Over Protests and Demands Monitor, N.Y. Times (Jan. 14, 2021), https://www.nytimes.com/2021/01/14/nyregion/nypd-police-protest-lawsuit.html [https://perma.cc/2RJG-6FZD] (discussing misconduct allegations against NYPD officers); see also Katelyn Burns, Police Targeted Journalists Covering the George Floyd Protests, Vox (May 31, 2020, 1:10 PM), https://www.vox.com/identities/2020/5/31/21276013/police-targeted-journalists-covering-george-floyd-protests [https://perma.cc/V5G7-PDK6]. In several cities, including Portland and the District of Columbia, federal law enforcement and other agency personnel also engaged in aggressive and violent protest policing.5For a critical account of the federal government’s response to the Black Lives Matter (“BLM”) racial justice protests, see Karen J. Greenberg, Subtle Tools: The Dismantling of American Democracy from the War on Terror to Donald Trump 145–72 (2021). See also Katie Shepherd & Mark Berman, ‘It Was Like Being Preyed Upon’: Portland Protesters Say Federal Officers in Unmarked Vans Are Detaining Them, Wash. Post (July 17, 2020, 8:24 PM), https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2020/07/17/portland-protests-federal-arrests [https://perma.cc/8H9N-MNJF]; Alex Ward, The Unmarked Federal Agents Arresting People in Portland, Explained, Vox (July 20, 2020, 6:30 PM), https://www.vox.com/2020/7/20/21328387/portland-protests-unmarked-arrest-trump-world [https://perma.cc/QMW9-7DYE]; Nicole Sganga, Federal Agents Sent to Portland in 2020 Were “Unprepared” to Quell Unrest, Watchdog Finds, CBS News (Apr. 21, 2021, 1:04 PM), https://www.cbsnews.com/news/portland-protests-2020-federal-agents-unprepared [https://perma.cc/4N2Z-NAWS]. Former President Donald Trump told state governors to “dominate” the protesters and send them to jail.6Matt Perez, Trump Tells Governors to ‘Dominate’ Protesters, ‘Put Them in Jail for 10 Years’, Forbes (June 1, 2020, 1:56 PM), https://www.forbes.com/sites/mattperez/2020/06/01/trump-tells-governors-to-dominate-protesters-put-them-in-jail-for-10-years [https://perma.cc/Z3JD-QERX].

Many of these law enforcement actions violated protesters’ First Amendment and Fourth Amendment rights. Protesters can sometimes obtain judicial injunctions preventing law enforcement from using such tactics in future protests.7See Abay v. City of Denver, 445 F. Supp. 3d 1286, 1294 (D. Colo. 2020) (granting a temporary restraining order (“TRO”) against police use of chemical agents and projectiles); Don’t Shoot Portland v. City of Portland, 465 F. Supp. 3d 1150, 1157 (D. Or. 2020) (granting a TRO against police use of tear gas against peaceful protesters); Black Lives Matter Seattle-King Cnty. v. City of Seattle, 466 F. Supp. 3d 1206, 1216 (W.D. Wash. 2020) (granting a TRO against police use of tear gas and pepper spray as crowd control measures); see also Brittnee Bui, Comment, Class Actions as a Check on LAPD: What Has Worked and What Has Not, 67 UCLA L. Rev. 432, 451–59 (2020). Police departments sometimes, though far too infrequently, discipline officers for violating constitutional rights and other misconduct.8See Troy Closson, N.Y.P.D. Should Discipline 145 Officers for Misconduct, Watchdog Says, N.Y. Times (May 11, 2022, 6:37 PM), https://www.nytimes.com/2022/05/11/nyregion/nypd-misconduct-george-floyd.html [https://web.archive.org/web/20220512004251/https://www.nytimes.com/2022/05/11/nyregion/nypd-misconduct-george-floyd.html]. However, injunctive relief and departmental discipline do not compensate for the physical and emotional injuries protesters experience at the hands of aggressive and sometimes violent law enforcement officers. As Joanna Schwartz has observed, “for many people, filing a lawsuit [for damages] is the best available way to punish police when they violate the law and give police reason not to violate the law again.”9Joanna Schwartz, Shielded: How the Police Became Untouchable xiii (2023). In a few instances, 2020 racial justice protesters sued individual officers and their municipal employers for damages and obtained significant monetary settlements or judgments. Daniel Politi, Jury Awards $14 Million to George Floyd Protesters Injured by Cops in Denver, Slate (Mar. 26, 2022, 10:04 AM), https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2022/03/jury-awards-14-million-george-floyd-protesters-denver.html [https://perma.cc/6686-AVEN].

Both 42 U.S.C. § 1983 (“section 1983”)10Section 1983 provides as follows:

Every person who, under color of any statute, ordinance, regulation, custom, or usage, of any State or Territory or the District of Columbia, subjects, or causes to be subjected, any citizen of the United States or other person within the jurisdiction thereof to the deprivation of any rights, privileges, or immunities secured by the Constitution and laws, shall be liable to the party injured in an action at law, suit in equity, or other proper proceeding for redress.

42 U.S.C. § 1983.
—a statute originally passed to assist the government in combating Ku Klux Klan violence in the South after the Civil War—and the Supreme Court’s decision in Bivens v. Six Unknown Named Agents of Federal Bureau of Narcotics11Bivens v. Six Unknown Named Agents of Fed. Bureau of Narcotics, 403 U.S. 388 (1971). allow individuals to sue government officials for money damages for constitutional torts (personal injuries stemming from violations of constitutional rights). Section 1983 applies to state and local officials, while Bivens applies to federal officials. However, protesters face a daunting array of obstacles to recovering civil damages under these laws.12See generally Schwartz, supra note 9 (examining the many obstacles to recovery in civil rights lawsuits, including obtaining counsel, pleading rules, and governmental immunities). The constitutional standards that govern protesters’ underlying First Amendment and Fourth Amendment claims may offer less-than-robust substantive protection for protesters’ activities. But even with respect to some egregious violations of protesters’ constitutional rights, governments and government officials possess broad legal immunities that often prevent recovery of civil damages.

Under section 1983, unless officers violate what the Supreme Court has described as “clearly established law,” they cannot sue officials for money damages.13Harlow v. Fitzgerald, 457 U.S. 800, 818 (1982). The doctrine of “qualified immunity” shields “all but the plainly incompetent” law enforcement and other officials from liability.14Malley v. Briggs, 475 U.S. 335, 341 (1986). In general, plaintiffs cannot recover unless they can show that “controlling authority in their jurisdiction” or a “consensus of cases of persuasive authority” have recognized the underlying misconduct as a constitutional violation.15Wilson v. Layne, 526 U.S. 603, 617 (1999); see also Schwartz, supra note 9, at 76 (noting the requirement that plaintiffs point to “a prior case in which that precise conduct had been held unconstitutional”). Municipal employers, who have much deeper financial pockets than individual officers, cannot be held accountable unless plaintiffs can prove they adopted and enforced a “policy or custom” of violating protesters’ constitutional rights.16Monell v. Dep’t of Soc. Servs., 436 U.S. 658, 694–94 (1978). Although this evidence is hard to come by, plaintiffs are required to present it as early as the pleadings stage of a lawsuit.17See Schwartz, supra note 9, at 39–41 (discussing heightened pleading standards).

In recent years, the Supreme Court has further narrowed the circumstances in which local and federal officials can be sued for civil rights violations under section 1983 and Bivens. For example, in Nieves v. Bartlett, a 2019 decision, the Court held that so long as officers have probable cause to arrest protesters for some criminal offense, however minor, they cannot pursue a First Amendment claim that the officer retaliated against them for exercising expressive rights—unless they can prove law enforcement singled them out and treated them unequally.18Nieves v. Bartlett, 587 U.S. 391, 403, 407 (2019). With regard to Bivens suits against federal officials, the Court has assumed such claims can go forward, but has also strongly suggested they are unwarranted extensions of Bivens.19See Wood v. Moss, 572 U.S. 744, 757 (2014) (assuming Bivens extends to First Amendment claims); Reichle v. Howards, 566 U.S. 658, 663 n.4 (2012) (“We have never held that Bivens extends to First Amendment claims”); Bush v. Lucas, 462 U.S. 367, 390 (1983) (declining to extend Bivens to a claim sounding in the First Amendment); see also Egbert v. Boule, 142 S. Ct. 1793, 1807–08 (2022) (rejecting First Amendment “retaliation” claim under Bivens). If these claims are rejected, protesters will be barred from suing National Park Service officials, U.S. Capitol police officers, U.S. Secret Service agents, and other federal defendants for money damages in connection with protest policing.

Protesters whose constitutional rights are violated by law enforcement and other officials deserve to be compensated for their injuries. Further, as the 2020–2021 mass protests demonstrated, officials who violate First Amendment, Fourth Amendment, and other constitutional rights need to be deterred from doing so and held accountable.20See Schwartz, supra note 9, at xiv (“[Q]ualified immunity has come to represent all that is wrong with our system of police accountability.”). To the extent protesters believe officials cannot or will not be held fully accountable for even egregious and abusive constitutional violations, they may be chilled from exercising protest-related rights.

Despite the importance of these remedial and other concerns, there has been no systematic effort to measure the effects governmental immunities have on protesters’ ability to obtain compensation for their constitutional injuries.21One commentator has criticized qualified immunity doctrine as applied in recent protest cases involving claims of excessive force. See generally L. Darnell Weeden, Exploring Protest Rights, Unreasonable Police Conduct, and Qualified Immunity, 45 T. Marshall L. Rev. 167 (2021) (addressing a limited number of recent decisions without any quantitative analysis). To obtain a measure of these effects, this Article presents the findings of a unique quantitative and qualitative study. Unlike prior studies, which focused on qualified immunity across cases and contexts, this study focuses on the fate of First Amendment and Fourth Amendment claims brought by plaintiffs against state, local, and federal officials in public protest cases.22For prior qualified immunity studies, see generally Diana Hassel, Living a Lie: The Cost of Qualified Immunity, 64 Mo. L. Rev. 123 (1999) (studying federal cases over a two-year period); Nancy Leong, The Saucier Qualified Immunity Experiment: An Empirical Analysis, 36 Pepp. L. Rev. 667 (2009) (studying the disposition of qualified immunity defenses in district court cases); Greg Sobolski & Matt Steinberg, An Empirical Analysis of Section 1983 Qualified Immunity Actions and Implications of Pearson v. Callahan, 62 Stan. L. Rev. 523 (2010) (studying appellate decisions). My study focuses on First Amendment and Fourth Amendment claims because they are the primary constitutional rights provisions invoked by protesters in lawsuits against law enforcement and other officials. The study is based on three datasets consisting of more than three hundred federal court decisions and four hundred claims. In addition to qualified immunity in section 1983 cases, the study examines governmental immunities in First Amendment retaliation cases and actions against federal officials. Decisions in each unique dataset were coded to assess defendants’ success in invoking immunities to defeat protesters’ damages claims. Finally, the study provides a qualitative analysis of protesters’ First Amendment and Fourth Amendment rights. This part of the study identifies the types of constitutional claims plaintiffs typically pursued in public protest cases and the substantive “law” as the Supreme Court and lower federal courts have developed it.

The study shows that individual officers had considerable success, particularly at the summary judgment stage, defeating protesters’ section 1983 claims, and municipal defendants had even greater success. Defendants also enjoyed substantial success defeating First Amendment “retaliation” claims under the standard adopted in Nieves, often based on arrests for minor offenses. Owing to the Supreme Court’s recent skeptical pronouncements regarding Bivens claims, the study concludes that defendants are likely to defeat future First Amendment and Fourth Amendment damages claims against federal defendants. While some of the study’s quantitative findings differ from those in prior studies, in general, the results support criticisms of qualified immunity and other immunity doctrines.23See, e.g., Joanna C. Schwartz, How Qualified Immunity Fails, 127 Yale L.J. 2, 10 (2017) (concluding, based on a study of district court dockets, that courts rarely dismissed cases on qualified immunity grounds and granted dispositive summary judgment motions on that basis in just 2.6% of cases). As discussed infra Section III.A., in the decisions examined in this study, courts granted dismissal with respect to about a third of all claims but granted summary judgment on over 60% of all claims. These numbers are somewhat more in line with other studies. See, e.g., Leong, supra note 22, at 691 (finding that district courts denied qualified immunity in 14% to 32% of cases); Sobolski & Steinberg, supra note 22, at 545 (finding that appellate courts denied qualified immunity in 32% of appellate decisions). As applied in public protest cases, qualified immunity does not serve the policy goals the Supreme Court has ascribed to the doctrine, including providing a means of redress for constitutional injuries, deterrence of unlawful conduct, and shielding officers from the burdens of discovery.24See generally Joanna C. Schwartz, The Case Against Qualified Immunity, 93 Notre Dame L. Rev. 1797 (2018) (arguing that qualified immunity doctrines do not serve any of the values the Court and scholars have ascribed to it). Further, the qualitative portions of the study demonstrates the relatively weak rights protester plaintiffs possess and supports the criticism that qualified immunity doctrine has resulted in a lack of development of substantive rights.25See infra Sections III.A.2.iii, A.3.iii. Based on these findings, the study concludes that without repeal or reform of governmental immunities, public protest itself may be significantly imperiled.

From here, the Article proceeds in four parts. Part I describes the First Amendment and Fourth Amendment rights at stake in the public protest context and the governmental immunities that affect recovery of monetary damages for rights violations. Part II describes the study design and elaborates further on the content of the three unique datasets. Part III presents the study’s quantitative and qualitative findings regarding qualified immunity, municipal liability, First Amendment retaliation claims, and lawsuits against federal officials under Bivens. Part IV proposes several reforms and actions to strengthen protesters’ rights and remedies.

I.  PROTESTER INJURIES AND GOVERNMENTAL IMMUNITIES

Protesters who are injured during a public demonstration or other event can bring various legal claims against those responsible for their injuries. The focus in this study is on alleged violations of First Amendment and Fourth Amendment rights by government officials and entities, which are the most common claims pursued by injured protesters. A variety of officials and governmental entities participate in policing public protests. Possible defendants in civil rights lawsuits include state and local law enforcement, U.S. Secret Service, National Park Service, and other federal agency officials, and state or local governments. Each type of defendant can rely on robust governmental immunities. Separately and in combination, these immunities are obstacles for protesters seeking compensation for constitutional injuries.

A.  Protesters’ Rights and Remedies

Protesters can experience a variety of constitutional injuries when they participate in demonstrations and other public events. Although other rights may come into play, the two principal federal constitutional protections available to protesters are the First Amendment, which protects speech and peaceable assembly, and the Fourth Amendment, which generally prohibits unreasonable searches and seizures.26U.S. Const. amends. I, IV.

Protesters may be injured owing to a wide array of First Amendment violations.27For a discussion of First Amendment claims in the study datasets, see infra Part III. For example, officials may unlawfully deny protesters access to “public forums,” including public parks, streets, and sidewalks, where they have recognized rights to speak and assemble.28Huminski v. Corsones, 396 F.3d 53, 90, 92–93 (2d Cir. 2004) (concluding that indefinite exclusion of protester from courthouse grounds violated the First Amendment); see, e.g., Dean v. Byerley, 354 F.3d 540, 558 (6th Cir. 2004) (finding that picketers have a First Amendment right to engage in peaceful residential picketing on public sidewalks). Governments may rely on invalid content-based speech regulations or enforce unlawful speech zones and other regulations that unduly restrict speech and assembly.29See, e.g., Amnesty Int’l v. Battle, 559 F.3d 1170, 1183–84 (11th Cir. 2009) (holding the creation of cordon that rendered protest ineffective violated the First Amendment); Cannon v. City & Cnty. of Denver, 998 F.2d 867, 870–74 (10th Cir. 1993) (holding that arresting abortion protesters based on content of their signs violated the First Amendment). On the use of free speech zones and other uses of space to restrict protest, see generally Timothy Zick, Speech and Spatial Tactics, 84 Tex. L. Rev. 581 (2006). Law enforcement officers may also unlawfully retaliate against protesters for exercising their First Amendment rights, confiscate their signs and displays, prohibit the recording of police officers at public demonstrations, and engage in abusive protest policing methods.30See, e.g., Davidson v. City of Stafford, 848 F.3d 384, 393–94 (5th Cir. 2017) (concluding that arresting a protester without actual or probable cause in retaliation for expression violates the First Amendment); Allen v. Cisneros, 815 F.3d 239, 245 (5th Cir. 2016) (finding that confiscation of shofar and signs at demonstration did not violate the First Amendment); Glik v. Cunniffe, 655 F.3d 78, 84 (1st Cir. 2011) (holding that arresting protesters for filming law enforcement officers in the discharge of their duties in a public space violates the First Amendment); Green v. City of St. Louis, 52 F.4th 734, 740 (8th Cir. 2022) (holding that deploying tear gas against a protester not engaged in illegal activity violated the First Amendment).

Protesters may also suffer physical and other injuries stemming from Fourth Amendment violations.31The type of Fourth Amendment claims commonly pursued in protest cases is discussed in more detail infra Part III. They may be subject to arrest without probable cause or unlawfully detained.32See, e.g., Davidson, 848 F.3d at 393–94 (holding that arrest of anti-abortion protesters without actual or probable cause violated the Fourth Amendment); Barham v. Ramsey, 434 F.3d 565, 572–77 (D.C. Cir. 2006) (finding that the mass arrest of protesters without prior dispersal order violated the Fourth Amendment right not to be subjected to an unlawful arrest). Protesters may also be injured when police officers use excessive force, including physical force used during an arrest, handcuffing and other types of restraints, and use of less-lethal munitions including tear gas, pepper spray, and projectiles.33See Fogarty v. Gallegos, 523 F.3d 1147, 1161–62 (10th Cir. 2008) (concluding that using pepper balls and tear gas against non-resisting protesters constituted excessive force under the Fourth Amendment). These violations may cause physical and psychological injuries.

There are two general types of remedies protesters can pursue when they are the victims of these or other constitutional torts. They can seek injunctive relief against government actions and policies they allege violate the U.S. Constitution (or state constitutional provisions). For example, peaceful protesters expelled from a public park can seek a court order mandating they and others be allowed to protest there in the future. Or protesters could sue for an injunction preventing police from firing tear gas into crowds of peaceful protesters.34See, e.g., Don’t Shoot Portland v. City of Portland, 465 F. Supp. 3d 1150, 1157 (D. Or. 2020) (granting a TRO against police use of tear gas against peaceful protesters).

Enjoining current or future First Amendment or Fourth Amendment violations is an important remedy. However, injunctive relief is forward-looking and declaratory. It does not compensate protesters for physical and other injuries sustained during a demonstration or other protest event because of constitutionally tortious conduct.

The other kind of relief protesters can seek in the event of constitutional violations is an award for monetary damages against individual officials and their government employers. Both section 1983 and the Supreme Court’s decision in Bivens allow individuals to sue government officials for money damages for constitutional torts (personal injuries stemming from violations of constitutional rights).35See supra notes 10–11 and accompanying text. Section 1983 applies to state and local officials, while Bivens applies to federal officials. Both section 1983 and Bivens protect against deprivations of rights secured by the U.S. Constitution. Section 1983 explicitly authorizes such claims, while Bivens implies such claims from constitutional rights provisions.

Civil rights suits for money damages are a critically important means of vindicating constitutional rights. Owing to the infrequency of prosecutions brought against law enforcement for civil rights violations and the reluctance of police departments to investigate and punish their own, a lawsuit for damages may be the only way for a protester who has been injured to obtain some measure of justice.36See Schwartz, supra note 9, at xiii (“[F]or many people, filing a lawsuit is the best available way to punish police when they violate the law and give police reason not to violate the law again.”). Monetary relief compensates injured protesters for physical, economic, and other kinds of tangible harm. It can also have deterrent effects in terms of individual officer actions and municipal policies. As in other legal contexts, damages awarded for constitutional violations are intended to make injured parties whole. The damages include not only monetary and out-of-pocket expenditures, but also recovery for pain, suffering, and emotional distress. When plaintiffs prevail in federal civil rights lawsuits, they are also entitled to recover attorneys’ fees.37See 42 U.S.C. § 1988 (authorizing award of attorney’s fees). As commentators have observed, most damages in civil rights cases are recovered through settlements. Schwartz, supra note 9, at 26. The Supreme Court has upheld settlement agreements that waive attorneys’ fees. Evans v. Jeff D., 475 U.S. 717, 741–43 (1986), superseded by statute, Civil Rights Act of 1991, Pub. L. No. 102-166, 105 Stat. 1071. These types of waivers are now common. As a result, lawyers frequently do not recover any fees when civil rights lawsuits are settled. Schwartz, supra note 9, at 26. Lawyers often view section 1983 cases as contingency fee cases, which affects civil rights plaintiffs’ access to representation. Id. at 27.

Although my study focuses on federal constitutional claims, protesters can sue under state civil rights laws and precedents, which generally adopt similar qualified immunity restrictions in cases involving violation of state constitutional rights. They can also bring state common law personal injury claims including assault, battery, false arrest, damages to property, and infliction of emotional distress.

Protesters’ remedial menu sounds expansive. However, as this study confirms, protesters’ claims for monetary damages against government officials and municipal entities are substantially constrained by an offsetting menu of liability-limiting immunities and related doctrines. As a result, protesters injured while engaged in lawful and peaceful expressive activities often find it difficult or impossible to hold government officials accountable for their actions.

B.  Section 1983 and “Qualified Immunity”

Government officials may be entitled to “qualified immunity” in section 1983 and Bivens lawsuits. Qualified immunity is a judicially created doctrine that shields government officials from being held personally liable for constitutional violations.38See Schwartz, supra note 9, at 73 (“The Supreme Court created qualified immunity out of thin air six years after it recognized the right to sue under Section 1983.”). When government officials are sued, qualified immunity functions as an affirmative defense they can raise, barring damages even if they committed unlawful acts. (Qualified immunity is not, however, a defense to claims for injunctive relief.) As a general matter, officials enjoy broad legal immunity from civil rights claims under this doctrine. As the Supreme Court has observed, qualified immunity “provides ample protection to all but the plainly incompetent or those who knowingly violate the law.”39Malley v. Briggs, 475 U.S. 335, 341 (1986). In most states, civil rights actions are similarly limited by qualified immunity.

Historically, under Supreme Court precedents, whether a defendant was entitled to qualified immunity turned on the subjective “good faith” of the official who committed the alleged violation.40Pierson v. Ray, 386 U.S. 547, 556–58 (1967). In 1982, however, the Supreme Court replaced that subjective standard with a new test framed in “objective terms.”41Harlow v. Fitzgerald, 457 U.S. 800, 819 (1982). Under the new test, officials are personally immune from monetary liability “even if they act in bad faith, so long as there is no prior court decision with nearly identical facts.”42Schwartz, supra note 9, at 74. As the Court has explained, as long as their conduct “does not violate clearly established statutory or constitutional rights of which a reasonable person would have known,” police officers and other officials are not liable for money damages under section 1983.43Harlow, 457 U.S. at 818.

The Court has made clear its new standard is intended to be more protective of government officials than the “good faith” test. At the same time, it has also stated that the standard provides “no license to lawless conduct.”44Id. at 819. According to the Court, “[i]f the law was clearly established, the immunity defense ordinarily should fail, since a reasonably competent public official should know the law governing his conduct.”45Id. at 818–19.

However, as Joanna Schwartz has observed after close examination of section 1983 qualified immunity cases, “the Court’s decisions over the next forty years have created a standard that seems virtually impossible to meet.”46Schwartz, supra note 9, at 75. Since the Court adopted its objective test, it has applied the doctrine in several ways that have made it far more favorable to defendants.

First, the Supreme Court adopted a heightened pleading standard for complaints in civil cases. The new standard requires that to avoid having claims dismissed, plaintiffs must state facts supporting a “plausible” claim for relief.47Bell Atl. Corp. v. Twombly, 550 U.S. 544, 570 (2007); Ashcroft v. Iqbal, 556 U.S. 662, 679 (2009). Schwartz has observed that this standard “may be particularly difficult for plaintiffs in civil rights cases to overcome.”48Schwartz, supra note 9, at 43. In some kinds of cases, including those that focus on the intent of government actors or the existence of local government policies or practices, “[a] plaintiff will not likely have any evidence . . . until they get to discovery.”49Id.

Second, to show the law was “clearly established,” the Supreme Court has generally required plaintiffs to point to an already existing authoritative judicial decision (or perhaps multiple decisions), with substantially similar facts. The decisional landscape is narrow. Protester plaintiffs must identify “controlling authority in their jurisdiction” or a “consensus of cases of persuasive authority.”50Wilson v. Layne, 526 U.S. 603, 617 (1999). Unpublished decisions do not count, and courts are reluctant to consider district court decisions.51See, e.g., Ullery v. Bradley, 949 F.3d 1282, 1300 (10th Cir. 2020) (“[W]e decline to consider district court opinions in evaluating the legal landscape for purposes of qualified immunity.”); Evans v. Skolnik, 997 F.3d 1060, 1067 (9th Cir. 2021) (“We have been somewhat hesitant to rely on district court decisions in this context.”). The clearly established standard expands the scope of the qualified immunity defense by requiring that plaintiffs identify Supreme Court or published federal appeals court decisions that are identical, or nearly identical, to the one being litigated.52See Kisela v. Hughes, 584 U.S. 100, 103–04 (2018) (discussing need for factual similarities). For example, plaintiffs’ allegation that officers’ use of a particular protest policing method violated their constitutional rights would have to point to published appeals court precedents establishing that use of this method was a clearly established violation of the First Amendment or Fourth Amendment.

Third, the Court has instructed that in assessing clearly established law, courts should not define the inquiry “at a high level of generality.”53Ashcroft v. al-Kidd, 563 U.S. 731, 742 (2011) (quoting Wilson, 526 U.S. at 617). As a result, “[c]ourts have granted officers qualified immunity even when they have engaged in egregious behavior—not because what the officers did was acceptable, but because there wasn’t a prior case in which that precise conduct had been held unconstitutional.”54Schwartz, supra note 9, at 76.

Fourth, in 2009, the Court altered the way in which courts apply qualified immunity doctrine in a manner that created another significant obstacle for civil rights plaintiffs.55Pearson v. Callahan, 555 U.S. 223, 236 (2009). In an earlier decision, the Court held that when assessing a qualified immunity defense, courts must first determine whether there was a violation of a constitutional right and then address whether the law was clearly established as to that right.56Saucier v. Katz, 533 U.S. 194, 201 (2001). However, the Court’s current approach allows courts to grant qualified immunity based solely on whether the law in question was clearly established—that is, without determining whether there was a constitutional violation.57Pearson, 555 U.S. at 223–24. This creates a catch-22 for civil rights plaintiffs. If courts resolve cases based on the lack of clearly established authority, there will be fewer precedents defining constitutional violations.58See Schwartz, supra note 9, at 78 (making this point). See generally David L. Hudson, Jr., Pearson v. Callahan and Qualified Immunity: Impact on First Amendment Law, 10 First Amend. L. Rev. 125 (2011) (discussing courts’ reliance on step two in assessing First Amendment claims by students, public employees, and prisoners). That situation, in turn, results in decisions concluding that officials are not liable because of a lack of clearly established law.59See Andrew Chung, Lawrence Hurley, Jackie Botts, Andrea Januta & Guillermo Gomez, For Cops Who Kill, Special Supreme Court Protection, Reuters: Investigates (May 8, 2020, 12:00 PM), https://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/usa-police-immunity-scotus [https://web.archive.org/web/20230929161412/https://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/usa-police-immunity-scotus] (examining 252 cases from 2015–2019). According to critics, it also has the effect of rendering constitutional protections “hollow.”60Mullenix v. Luna, 577 U.S. 7, 26 (2015) (Sotomayor, J., dissenting). By allowing courts to rely on a lack of clearly established law without ruling on the underlying constitutional claim, the Court “perpetuates uncertainty about the contours of the Constitution and sends the message to officers that they may be shielded from damages liability even when they act in bad faith.”61Schwartz, supra note 24, at 1818.

Fifth and finally, the Court’s construct of a “reasonable officer” has shifted over time to grant government officials broader deference. In a 1986 decision, the Court famously wrote that qualified immunity protects “all but the plainly incompetent or those who knowingly violate the law.”62Malley v. Briggs, 475 U.S. 335, 341 (1986). Since then, the Supreme Court has stated that a defendant’s conduct is to be judged on the basis of “any reasonable officer”63Messerschmidt v. Millender, 565 U.S. 535, 556 (2012). or “every reasonable official.”64Scott Michelman, The Branch Best Qualified to Abolish Immunity, 93 Notre Dame L. Rev. 1999, 2004 (2018) (quoting Ashcroft v. al-Kidd, 563 U.S. 731, 741 (2011)). As one scholar observed, this shift implies “that in order for a plaintiff to overcome qualified immunity, the right violated must be so clear that its violation in the plaintiff’s case would have been obvious not just to the average ‘reasonable officer’ but to the least informed, least reasonable ‘reasonable officer.’ ”65Id. (emphasis added).

As Joanna Schwartz has observed, the Court has “[created one additional qualified] immunity hurdle for plaintiffs: defendants’ right to immediately appeal any qualified immunity denial.”66Schwartz, supra note 9, at 79. Under normal procedural rules, a litigant would have to wait until the court enters a final judgment in the case to file an appeal. The special appeals process in qualified immunity cases can add “months or years to the case and dramatically increas[e] the costs of litigation” for plaintiffs.67Id.

The Supreme Court has offered some general justifications for its qualified immunity standards. It has asserted that qualified immunity achieves a “balance” between allowing victims to hold officials accountable and minimizing “social costs” to “society as a whole.”68Harlow v. Fitzgerald, 457 U.S. 800, 814 (1982). Noting that “claims frequently run against the innocent as well as the guilty,” the Court has identified four “social costs.”69Id.

First, the Court has explained that the doctrine aims to avoid “the expenses of litigation” by allowing district courts to dismiss suits against officers at early stages in the litigation—and without making fact-intensive inquiries into a particular officer’s motivations.70Id. Second, and relatedly, the Court expressed concern that requiring officials to respond to such litigation can “diver[t] . . . official energy from pressing public issues.”71Id. Third, the Court worried that the threat of litigation would “deter[] . . . able citizens from acceptance of public office.”72Id. Finally, the Court noted that the threat of lawsuits could chill lawful law enforcement conduct. It posited “there is the danger that fear of being sued will ‘dampen the ardor of all but the most resolute, or the most irresponsible [public officials], in the unflinching discharge of their duties.’ ”73Id. (alteration in original) (quoting Gregoire v. Biddle, 177 F.2d 579, 589 (1949)). Along similar lines, the Court explained that the doctrine of “[q]ualified immunity gives government officials breathing room to make reasonable but mistaken judgments about open legal questions.”74Ashcroft v. al-Kidd, 563 U.S. 731, 743 (2011).

The Court has also defended qualified immunity’s focus on clearly established law on the basis that it would be unfair to hold government officials to constitutional rules they were not aware of at the time of the violation. It first articulated this idea in an early decision, stating that “[a] policeman’s lot is not so unhappy that he must choose between being charged with dereliction of duty if he does not arrest when he has probable cause, and being mulcted in damages if he does.”75Pierson v. Ray, 386 U.S. 547, 555 (1967). Later, the Court explained: “If the law at that time was not clearly established, an official could not reasonably be expected to anticipate subsequent legal developments, nor could he fairly be said to ‘know’ that the law forbade conduct not previously identified as unlawful.”76Harlow, 457 U.S. at 818. As the Court has observed, “the focus” of qualified immunity is “whether the officer had fair notice that her conduct was unlawful.”77Brosseau v. Haugen, 543 U.S. 194, 198 (2004).

Critics have offered strong challenges to these justifications and to qualified immunity generally.78For a statistical rebuttal of many of the Court’s efficiency arguments, see Joanna C. Schwartz, Qualified Immunity’s Boldest Lie, 88 U. Chicago L. Rev. 605 (2021). See also Schwartz, supra note 24, at 1820 (“The Supreme Court’s qualified immunity doctrine is ungrounded in history, unnecessary or ill-suited to serve its intended policy goals, and counter-productive to interests in holding government wrongdoers responsible when they have violated the law.”). Some have attacked qualified immunity as both bad law and bad policy.79See, e.g., William Baude, Is Qualified Immunity Unlawful?, 106 Cal. L. Rev. 45, 48–49 (2018); Michael L. Wells, Qualified Immunity After Ziglar v. Abbasi: The Case for a Categorical Approach, 68 Am. U. L. Rev. 379, 383–86 (2018); Aaron L. Nielson & Christopher J. Walker, The New Qualified Immunity, 89 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1, 6–7 (2015); Schwartz, supra note 23, at 11–12. However, at least for the time being, the Supreme Court appears committed to retaining the doctrine.

C.  Municipal Liability

Qualified immunity doctrine applies to claims against individual government officials. However, protesters can also sue municipalities, counties, and other government bodies under section 1983.

Holding governmental entities liable for constitutional violations is important for several reasons. First, these entities have much deeper pockets than individual law enforcement officers.80Schwartz, supra note 9, at 100. Second, holding employers liable for constitutional violations caused by their actions or policies puts pressure on those employers to change their unconstitutional behavior.81Id. Third, assuming the unconstitutional harm emanated from the employer, it is just to hold it, as opposed to individual officers following the employer’s commands, directly responsible for the violations.82Id.

In Monell v. Department of Social Services, the Supreme Court held that a municipal government can be held liable under section 1983 for constitutionally tortious actions.83Monell v. Dep’t of Soc. Servs. of N.Y., 436 U.S. 658, 663 (1978). However, under Monell and subsequent precedents, the Court has significantly narrowed the path to recovery.84See Schwartz, supra note 9, at 93–94 (noting it is “tremendously difficult to succeed in constitutional challenges to these types of institutional failures”).

Local governments can be held liable under section 1983 for enacting unconstitutional policies.85Id. at 102–03. They can also be held liable if an official with “final policymaking authority” violates the Constitution.86Pembaur v. City of Cincinnati, 475 U.S. 469, 483 (1986). However, these theories are “uncommonly relied upon” because they require plaintiffs demonstrate constitutional wrongdoing “at the highest levels of government.”87Schwartz, supra note 9, at 103. “Final policy makers” such as local police chiefs are rarely directly involved in applying unconstitutional policies.88Id. Moreover, as Schwartz has observed, “local governments do not usually adopt policies that are unconstitutional on their face—a policy requiring officers to use excessive force, for example, or requiring officers to arrest people who exercise their First Amendment free speech rights.”89Id.

Most commonly, to establish Monell liability, plaintiffs must demonstrate a deprivation of a federal right occurred because of a “policy or custom” of the local government’s legislative body or of those local officials whose acts may fairly be said to be those of the municipality.90Monell v. Dep’t of Soc. Servs. of N.Y., 436 U.S. 658, 690–94 (1978). The informal policy or custom alleged to have caused the constitutional injury must be “so persistent and widespread as to practically have the force of law.”91Connick v. Thompson, 563 U.S. 51, 61 (2011). Under the policy or custom theory of section 1983 liability, local governments cannot be held liable for the actions of their employees solely because of their employment status.92Monell, 436 U.S. at 690. Rather, an employee must be acting pursuant to a municipal policy or custom, and the employer can only be held liable if one of their employees has committed an underlying constitutional violation pursuant to the policy or custom.93Id.

One theory or basis of policy or custom municipal liability that is particularly germane to public protest cases is the charge that local governments failed to train and supervise law enforcement and other officers.94See City of Canton v. Harris, 489 U.S. 378, 385 (1989) (recognizing this theory of municipal liability). As with other theories, however, it is very difficult to prevail on this claim. Courts have essentially treated the way a police force chooses to train its officers as a matter of policy not generally subject to judicial second-guessing in civil rights lawsuits. As the Supreme Court has noted, “the inadequacy of police training may serve as the basis for § 1983 liability,” but “only where the failure to train amounts to deliberate indifference to the rights of persons with whom the police come into contact.”95Id. at 388 (emphasis added); e.g., Estate of Jones by Jones v. City of Martinsburg, 961 F.3d 661, 671–72 (4th Cir. 2020) (“If the City’s failure to train reflects such a deliberate or consciously indifferent ‘policy,’ then its failure can fairly be said to be the ‘moving force [behind] the constitutional violation.’ ”).

At each stage of litigation, protester plaintiffs face severe challenges in terms of alleging and proving a policy or custom sufficient to hold local governments accountable. At the complaint-drafting stage, plaintiffs often lack access to the facts necessary to allege an informal policy or custom.96Schwartz, supra note 9, at 108. Thus, they may not be able to survive a local government’s motion to dismiss for failure to meet basic pleading requirements. Even at later stages of litigation, plaintiffs are likely to struggle to adduce evidence not just that their constitutional rights were violated, but that any violations were caused by an informal policy or custom. Among other issues, the Supreme Court “has not clarified what can serve as evidence of prior constitutional violations sufficient to put police chiefs on notice that their officers need better training or supervision.”97Id. at 109.

The municipal liability standards have resulted in a complex, stringent, and “nonsensical” standard of municipal liability.98Id. at 102. As one commentator observed, “[the] doctrine of municipal liability is convoluted and can require difficult inquiries into which city officials are ‘policymakers’ under state law on local government, into whether a[n] official was acting in a ‘local’ or ‘state’ capacity, into the extent of departmental ‘custom’ authorizing constitutional violations, into individual cities’ training and hiring processes, and into demanding questions about causation and fault.”99Edward C. Dawson, Replacing Monell Liability with Qualified Immunity for Municipal Defendants in 42 U.S.C. § 1983 Litigation, 86 U. Cin. L. Rev. 483, 486 (2018) (citations omitted).

D.  First Amendment “Retaliation” Claims

In addition to the many challenges posed by general qualified immunity doctrines under section 1983, the Supreme Court has recently adopted new liability limits on a specific type of claim based on retaliation for the exercise of First Amendment rights. The Court has recognized a general defense to such claims based on a finding of probable cause to arrest the speaker for any violation of law.

The First Amendment prohibits government officials from subjecting individuals to retaliatory actions because they engaged in protected speech.100Hartman v. Moore, 547 U.S. 250, 256 (2006). To succeed on a First Amendment retaliation claim, plaintiffs must prove they engaged in a constitutionally protected activity, the defendant’s actions would “chill a person of ordinary firmness” from continuing to engage in the protected activity, and the protected activity was a substantial motivating factor in the defendant’s conduct—i.e., that there was a nexus between the defendant’s actions and the intent to chill speech.101Revels v. Vincenz, 382 F.3d 870, 876 (8th Cir. 2004).

These claims have always been difficult to win. Proving retaliatory motive is difficult, but in any event not sufficient. The speaker must show that the adverse action would not have been taken absent the official’s retaliatory motive.102Hartman, 547 U.S. at 260. For example, suppose participants arrested at a public protest claimed law enforcement restricted or suppressed their speech in retaliation for the message they conveyed. To prevail, plaintiffs must show the officer would not have arrested them or interfered with their protected speech “but for” the retaliatory reason. If the officer can show the protesters were obstructing traffic or there was any other non-retaliatory reason for the arrest, the First Amendment claim would fail.

One long-unsettled question in such cases was whether the existence of probable cause to arrest a speaker precluded a First Amendment retaliation claim brought under section 1983. In Nieves v. Bartlett, the Supreme Court answered this question in the affirmative.103Nieves v. Bartlett, 587 U.S. 391, 402 (2019).

In Nieves, the Court upheld the dismissal of a First Amendment retaliation claim brought by an individual arrested at a festival after he exchanged heated words with officers assigned to police the event. The Court held that when speakers allege officers arrested them in retaliation for the exercise of First Amendment activities, probable cause for the arrest is usually a complete defense.104Id. at 400. Echoing its justifications for adopting the general qualified immunity standards, which were discussed earlier, the Court indicated it was concerned that officers who must often make “split-second” decisions when deciding whether to arrest will sometimes rely on the suspect’s protected speech in doing so.105Id. at 401. The Court also reasoned that determining whether the arrest was in retaliation for the speech in such cases would often be difficult.106Id. Thus, it concluded plaintiffs should be required in retaliation cases to plead and prove the arrest was objectively unreasonable before inquiring into the official’s subjective mental state.107Id. at 403.

The Nieves standard applies in a broad variety of contexts. However, the Court justified it using a protest-related example. The Court was concerned, it said, that “policing certain events like an unruly protest would pose overwhelming litigation risks” for officers who arrest participants.108Id. at 404. “Any inartful turn of phrase or perceived slight during a legitimate arrest,” the Court worried, “could land an officer in years of litigation.”109Id. The Court was concerned officers would be deterred from discharging their duties or “would simply minimize their communication during arrests to avoid having their words scrutinized for hints of improper motive—a result that would leave everyone worse off.”110Id.

The Nieves rule is subject to an exception. The Court concluded “the no-probable-cause rule should not apply when a plaintiff presents objective evidence that he was arrested when otherwise similarly situated individuals not engaged in the same sort of protected speech had not been.”111Id. at 407. If a plaintiff produces this comparative evidence, the burden shifts to the official to show some non-retaliatory basis for the arrest.112See id.

The Nieves rule makes it more difficult for protesters, reporters, and others attending or participating in a public protest to demonstrate they were arrested in retaliation for their communications or other First Amendment–protected activities.113See John S. Clayton, Policing the Press: Retaliatory Arrests of Newsgatherers After Nieves v. Bartlett, 120 Colum. L. Rev. 2275, 2279 (2020); see also Katherine Grace Howard, You Have the Right to Free Speech: Retaliatory Arrests and the Pretext of Probable Cause, 51 Ga. L. Rev. 607, 616–29 (2017). As the data from this study confirm, in most cases it will mean that probable cause to arrest a speaker for any offense, however minor, will negate a First Amendment retaliation claim.114See infra Section III.C.

E.  Damages Claims Against Federal Officials

In Bivens, the Court implied a cause of action for damages against federal officials who violate individuals’ rights under the Constitution.115Bivens v. Six Unknown Named Agents of Fed. Bureau of Narcotics, 403 U.S. 388, 395–97 (1971). The claim in Bivens was based on a violation of the Fourth Amendment’s prohibition on unreasonable searches and seizures.116Id. The Court has also recognized Bivens actions for Fifth Amendment and Eighth Amendment violations.117See Davis v. Passman, 442 U.S. 228, 229 (1979) (recognizing damages action against a federal employer for gender discrimination); Carlson v. Green, 446 U.S. 14, 19 (1980) (recognizing an Eighth Amendment claim for failure to provide adequate medical treatment). However, during the past four decades, the Court has not recognized any additional Bivens claims. It has become increasingly skeptical of Bivens lawsuits in general, and specifically in the context of First Amendment and Fourth Amendment claims.118See infra Section III.D. At this juncture, it is not clear protesters have any right to sue federal officials for damages relating to First Amendment or Fourth Amendment violations.

According to the Court, Bivens and its progeny “were the products of an era when the Court routinely inferred ‘causes of action’ that were ‘not explicit’ in the text of the provision that was allegedly violated.”119Hernandez v. Mesa, 589 U.S. 93, 99 (2020) (quoting Ziglar v. Abbasi, 582 U.S. 120, 132 (2017)). The Court has criticized this “ancien regime,” noting that “[i]n later years, [it] came to appreciate more fully the tension between this practice and the Constitution’s separation of legislative and judicial power.”120Id. Accordingly, the Court noted, “for almost 40 years,” it has “consistently rebuffed requests to add to the claims allowed under Bivens.”121Id. at 102.

In 2017, the Court outlined a two-step framework intended to limit the expansion of Bivens remedies.122Abbasi, 582 U.S. at 138–39. The Court applied the same approach in Hernandez, 589 U.S. at 102. Under this framework, a court must first consider whether a case “arises in a ‘new context’ or involves a ‘new category of defendants.’ ”123Hernandez, 589 U.S. at 94 (quoting Corr. Servs. Corp. v. Malesko, 534 U.S. 61, 68 (2001)). The Court’s “understanding of a new context is broad.”124Id. The standard is whether “the case is different in a meaningful way from previous Bivens cases” decided by the Court.125Abbasi, 582 U.S. at 139. If so, the court must “ask whether there are any ‘special factors that counsel hesitation’ about granting the extension.”126Hernandez, 589 U.S. at 102 (quoting Abbasi, 582 U.S. at 121).

According to the Court, “special factors” are rooted in concerns about the separation of powers among the branches of federal government.127Id. (citing “the risk of interfering with the authority of the other branches”). They include, but are not limited to, the existence of alternative remedies and respect for coordinate branches of government. Thus, a court must “consider the risk of interfering with the authority of the other branches, . . . ask whether ‘there are sound reasons to think Congress might doubt the efficacy or necessity of a damages remedy’ . . . and ‘whether the Judiciary is well suited, absent congressional action or instruction, to consider and weigh the costs and benefits of allowing a damages action to proceed.’ ”128Id. (quoting Abbasi, 582 U.S. at 136, 137). If any factor causes a court to hesitate, the court should “reject the request” to recognize the Bivens claim.129Id. In general, the Court has described the expansion of Bivens as “a disfavored judicial activity.”130Abbasi, 582 U.S. at 121 (quoting Ashcroft v. Iqbal, 556 U.S. 662, 675 (2009)).

Although the Court has assumed First Amendment claims may be brought under Bivens, it has never expressly held as much and has sometimes expressed skepticism regarding such claims.131See Wood v. Moss, 572 U.S. 744, 757 (2014) (assuming Bivens extends to First Amendment claims); Reichle v. Howards, 566 U.S. 658, 663 n.4 (2012) (“We have never held that Bivens extends to First Amendment claims.”); Ashcroft v. Iqbal, 556 U.S. 662, 675 (2009) (assuming, without deciding, that a free exercise claim was available because the issue was not raised on appeal, but noting that the reluctance to extend Bivens “might well have disposed of respondent’s First Amendment claim of religious discrimination” because “we have declined to extend Bivens to a claim sounding in the First Amendment”). See generally Bush v. Lucas, 462 U.S. 367 (1983) (declining to extend Bivens to a claim sounding in the First Amendment). In Egbert v. Boule (2022), the Court ruled that plaintiffs could not sue federal officials for money damages based on First Amendment retaliation and Fourth Amendment excessive force claims.132Egbert v. Boule, 596 U.S. 482, 493–501 (2022). The Court rejected both claims on the grounds that implied actions under Bivens do not extend to “new” contexts and Congress was in a better position to determine whether to recognize any such actions.133Id. at 498. Although Egbert did not arise in the context of a public protest, the Court’s holding that First Amendment retaliation claims and Fourth Amendment excessive force claims are not viable under Bivens bodes ill for similar claims in other contexts.

II.  STUDY DESIGN AND DATASETS

The purpose of this study is to assess how the foregoing governmental immunities have affected plaintiffs’ First Amendment and Fourth Amendment claims against government officials under section 1983 and Bivens for injuries sustained at public demonstrations and other events. The study tracks the disposition of more than 400 constitutional claims in over 300 federal civil rights cases.

Unlike other qualified immunity studies, which examined broad categories of decisions or dockets, my study focuses on a discrete set of activities—“public protest”—that gave rise to section 1983 and Bivens claims.134Other studies have focused on broader sets of qualified immunity decisions or dockets in a range of section 1983 claims. See sources cited supra note 22. The most comprehensive study was conducted by Joanna C. Schwartz, who studied dockets in more than 1,000 cases. See Schwartz, supra notes 23–24. The decision to focus on public protest cases and claims required that the study define and identify “public protest.” For purposes of all three datasets, “public protest” was generally defined as a set of facts in which one or more individuals participated in a public march, rally, demonstration, parade, or other similar activity. Claims involving conduct related to public protest, including leafletting, public displays, and certain kinds of expressive conduct such as flag burning, were also included in the datasets. By contrast, the datasets excluded First Amendment and Fourth Amendment claims in areas including prisoner litigation, employment-related actions, conflicts involving K-12 student speech, and actions filed in connection with ordinary traffic stops or domestic disturbance calls. This definition obviously could be narrower or broader, and the public protest limit necessitated some judgment calls. Not all decisions involved large or mass demonstrations, but many did, and all included claims involving the kind of “out of doors” protest, hand-billing, and related activities typically engaged in during traditional public protest activity.135        See generally Timothy Zick, Speech Out of Doors: Preserving First Amendment Liberties in Public Places (2008).

To conduct the study, I compiled three unique datasets. Each dataset consists of federal district court and appeals courts (including Supreme Court) decisions, which I read and coded. The first dataset, Qualified Immunity, includes 253 district and appellate court decisions, both published and unpublished, in which qualified immunity was raised as a defense to First Amendment or Fourth Amendment claims in the context of public protests.136The decisions were collected using the following Westlaw searches in the Federal Cases database: (“first amendment” (freedom /3 (speech assembly))) /p (demonstration protest protestor protester rally rallies street park sidewalk plaza pavement mall parade walk-out sit-in picket) & “qualified immunity”; (“first amendment” (freedom /3 (speech assembly))) & “qualified immunity” & (public demonstration protest! rally rallies street park highway sidewalk plaza road pavement mall boulevard parade walk-out sit-in picket) & (1983 bivens); “first amendment” /40 “qualified immunity” /p (protest demonstration rally parade); and SY,DI(92k1430 92k1431 92k1529 92k1732 92k1736 92k1744 92k1758 92k1759 92k1760 92k1761 92k1762 92k1764 92k184* 92k185* 92k1864) & (SY,DI(78k1373 78k1374 78k1376 78k1398 78k1407 78k1432 78k1440 170Bk3295 170Bk3323(2) 170Bk3625(2) 393k1472 393k1475 393k1483) “qualified immunity”). Returned results for all searches were then reviewed to isolate claims brought in connection with public protest activities, per the study definition. In combination, these decisions addressed a total of 468 First Amendment and Fourth Amendment claims. The study examined cases from 1982, when the Supreme Court adopted its modern “two-step” qualified immunity approach, to December 2022.137See Harlow v. Fitzgerald, 457 U.S. 800, 815–19 (1982) (rejecting the “good faith” standard and adopting the “clearly established law” standard).

Each of the 253 decisions in the Qualified Immunity dataset was coded for: (1) court; (2) date of decision; (3) whether the decision was published or unpublished; (4) type of constitutional claim (First Amendment or Fourth Amendment); (5) procedural posture in which a qualified immunity defense was raised (Summary Judgment, Motion to Dismiss, or Trial); (6) disposition of the motion to dismiss on qualified immunity grounds (granted or denied); (7) whether denials of summary judgment addressed the merits or were based on the existence of genuine issues of material fact; (8) whether a motion to dismiss or for summary judgment was granted based on Step One, Step Two, or Both steps of the qualified immunity analysis; (9) in appeals, whether the appellate court affirmed or reversed the district court’s qualified immunity disposition; (10) description of the First Amendment or Fourth Amendment claim; and (11) basis for the court’s conclusion on the qualified immunity motion. All decisions in the Qualified Immunity database were also coded for (12) whether plaintiffs pursued a claim for municipal liability under Monell; (13) whether a defense motion to dismiss or for summary judgment on the Monell claim was granted or denied; and (14) general grounds for the court’s disposition of the municipal liability claim.

The other two datasets are more limited in scope. The Nieves Retaliation Claims dataset includes forty-one published and unpublished federal court decisions from 2019 through December 2022.138Westlaw searches in the federal district court and appellate court databases were as follows: (protest demonstration rally picket) /30 retaliation /p nieves and retaliation /20 “First Amendment” /p nieves. The results were then reviewed to isolate claims arising in the context of public protest activity. Several retaliation claims were also collected from the Qualified Immunity dataset, which swept in some post-Nieves retaliation claims. Each decision was coded for (1) procedural posture; (2) disposition of a defense motion to dismiss or for summary judgment based on Nieves; (3) criminal offense(s) charged; (4) whether the decision addressed the Nieves unequal treatment exception and, if so, the court’s disposition of that part of the claim; (5) whether plaintiffs pursued a claim for retaliation against the municipality; and (6) disposition of the retaliation claim.

The Bivens Claims dataset includes twenty-six published and unpublished decisions between 1971 and the end of December 2022 in which courts addressed First Amendment or Fourth Amendment Bivens claims in the context of public protests.139The Westlaw search in the federal district court and appellate court databases was as follows: bivens /p protest or demonstration or rally /p “first amendment” or “fourth amendment” and DA (aft 1971). These results were then reviewed to isolate claims arising in the context of public protest activity. The relatively low number of reported Bivens protest decisions available in Westlaw is not surprising. Westlaw coverage for older unpublished decisions is spotty so the database does not include all Bivens protest-related decisions. Further, state and local officials are far more likely than federal officials to be involved in law enforcement and other activities giving rise to protest-related constitutional claims. Each decision was coded for (1) type of constitutional claim (First Amendment, Fourth Amendment, or both); (2) whether the court recognized a Bivens First Amendment or Fourth Amendment cause of action; and (3) in the event the court did not recognize the Bivens action, its reasoning (for example, claim arises in a “new context,” the presence of “special factors,” and so forth).

All three datasets have statistical and other limitations that narrow the study’s scope and findings. Most empirical qualified immunity studies have relied on decisions available on Westlaw.140See sources cited supra note 22; see also Schwartz, supra note 23, at 20 n.64 (acknowledging that most studies have relied on decisions available on Westlaw). However, as Joanna Schwartz has observed, because Westlaw omits many unpublished opinions as well as lawsuits resolved without any opinion, such studies can “say little about the frequency with which qualified immunity is raised, the manner in which all motions raising qualified immunity are decided, and the impact of qualified immunity on case dispositions.”141Schwartz, supra note 23, at 20–21. However, as Schwartz acknowledges, such studies can “offer insights about the ways . . . courts assess qualified immunity . . . in a written opinion.”142Id. at 21. The study examines opinions accessible to courts when they analyzed qualified immunity and other defenses in protest cases.

There are some quantitative limitations. Since my study is limited to claims brought in “public protest” cases, it is not based on a random or complete sample of all qualified immunity decisions. Thus, quite intentionally, it does not purport to make claims about the dispositions of all qualified immunity motions. Moreover, because my study considers both district court and appeals courts decisions, and primarily claims addressed at both the motion to dismiss and summary judgment stages, it cannot account for all final dispositions of qualified immunity motions in the study.143The study data include a few decisions following bench trials. For example, a qualified immunity motion denied at the motion to dismiss stage could be granted or denied later at summary judgment. Or the case may settle. The Retaliation Claims and Bivens Claims datasets, which are smaller samples, have similar quantitative limitations. In addition, the sample sizes in these two datasets are relatively small. The three datasets provide snapshots of how courts have disposed of qualified immunity and other motions in public protest cases during the relevant time periods.

Even with the foregoing limitations, the study offers a rare glimpse into how courts address qualified immunity in public protests cases. The data also provide information about the most common types of claims protesters pursued and how these different claims fared under qualified immunity, whether defense motions to dismiss or for summary judgment were successful, how courts applied the two-step qualified immunity analysis, whether Monell claims were pursued and sustained, the effect of Nieves on First Amendment retaliation claims, and whether protesters have been able to pursue Bivens actions. In addition, the study’s qualitative analysis helps reveal the extent to which First Amendment and Fourth Amendment law has developed—or failed to develop—in the public protest context and the extent to which courts have left important questions unanswered. In sum, the study offers an in-depth analysis of how qualified immunity has affected constitutional claims brought by protester plaintiffs.

III.  DATA AND FINDINGS

This Part presents the study’s data and principal findings. It begins with a quantitative and qualitative examination of the largest dataset, Qualified Immunity. The Part then turns to the effect of governmental immunities and defenses on municipal liability, First Amendment retaliation claims, and protesters’ Bivens actions.

A.  Section 1983 and Qualified Immunity

This Section presents findings from the Qualified Immunity dataset. It begins with a general overview of the dataset, and then discusses more detailed quantitative findings concerning First Amendment and Fourth Amendment claims. In connection with the discussion of these claims, the Section also presents qualitative assessments of the state of clearly established First Amendment and Fourth Amendment law in public protest cases.

1.  Qualified Immunity Dataset: Overview

Table 1 contains general information about the overall number of cases, whether decisions were published or unpublished, and the distribution of federal district court and courts of appeals decisions in the Qualified Immunity dataset. As indicated, this dataset includes federal district and appellate court public protest decisions from 1982 through the end of 2022 in which defendants sought dismissal or summary judgment based on qualified immunity. It does not include state-level constitutional claims or qualified immunity decisions.

The Qualified Immunity dataset consists of 253 (published and unpublished) federal district court and appellate court decisions. As noted earlier, for purposes of establishing whether there is clearly established law regarding a constitutional right, courts look primarily to published courts of appeal decisions (although some will also look to published district court decisions). There are more than twice as many published (170) as unpublished (83) decisions in the database. In terms of precedents most likely to be considered controlling, there are eighty-six published appeals court decisions—including two decisions from the Supreme Court.144These decisions are the primary basis for the description and analysis of substantive First Amendment and Fourth Amendment rights below. See infra Sections III.A.2–3.

Table 1.  General Case Data
Cases in the Dataset253
Published Cases170
Unpublished Cases83
Appellate Cases (Including Supreme Court)114
District Court Cases139
Published Appellate Cases86

The study of the Qualified Immunity dataset focused primarily on the disposition of First Amendment and Fourth Amendment claims subject to defense motions for dismissal or summary judgment based on qualified immunity. As indicated in Table 2, the dataset includes 468 distinct First Amendment and Fourth Amendment claims as to which defendants filed such motions. A claim was counted just once, even if brought against multiple defendants—unless the court disposed of the claim differently for certain defendants, in which case the claim was counted more than once. In general, courts tended to analyze qualified immunity motions by multiple defendants together.

There were slightly more First Amendment (253) than Fourth Amendment (215) claims in the dataset. More qualified immunity motions concerning these claims were decided by federal district courts (287) than by federal appellate courts (181). In many cases, no appeal appears to have been filed after the district court disposition of defense qualified immunity motions. Although it is possible appeals were filed but not noted on Westlaw, many cases appear to have terminated at the district court level without any interlocutory or other appeals.

The study examines constitutional claims subject to defense qualified immunity motions, again in cases that resulted in a published or unpublished opinion available on Westlaw. If, at the time the study period closed, an appellate decision was not available in Westlaw, then the district court decision was included in the dataset. In all other cases, the highest available appellate decision (Supreme Court or federal court of appeal) was coded instead of the district court opinion.

Table 2.  General Claims Data 
Claims in the Dataset468
First Amendment Claims253
Fourth Amendment Claims215
Claims Considered in District Courts287
Claims Considered in Appellate Courts (Including Supreme Court)181

Like other studies, mine tracks the disposition and analysis of constitutional claims brought by protester plaintiffs.145See, e.g., Leong, supra note 22, at 684–88 (accounting for separate claims in study of district court decisions). A docket study focusing on public protest cases, as defined for purposes of the study, was not feasible. Even if all public protest cases could be identified through a review of court dockets, to get a substantial sample one would need to review complaints filed in a multitude of districts.146See Schwartz, supra note 23, at 19–25 (basing study on a review of dockets for section 1983 claims filed in five districts). Focusing on defendants would provide some information about how many individual officers were sued and how many achieved dismissals, but it would not provide information about why they were sued or how courts analyzed constitutional claims in qualified immunity cases.147There is also the problem of what to do about “Doe” defendants, which appeared in several cases in the Qualified Immunity dataset. Focusing on case-level data, for example, how many cases resulted in dismissal on qualified immunity grounds, would likewise not tell us what kinds of claims protesters typically bring, the dispositions or success rates of defense motions to dismiss or for summary judgment regarding specific claims, and information about substantive First Amendment and Fourth Amendment law. My study focuses primarily on claim-level findings to learn how courts have analyzed motions to dismiss claims based on qualified immunity in the specific context of public protest.

Success rates overall and by claim for defense motions to dismiss or for summary judgment based on qualified immunity are reported in Figure 1. The Qualified Immunity dataset includes only cases in which defendants raised a qualified immunity defense as to one or more constitutional claims and courts explicitly addressed the defense. A defense qualified immunity motion was deemed “successful” if it was granted or dismissal of the claim was upheld on qualified immunity grounds. Motion success was not defined as disposing of all claims in the case, including Monell, state law, and other actions.148Cf. Schwartz, supra note 23, at 45 (finding that qualified immunity resulted in dismissal of all claims in just 0.6% of cases and summary judgment on all claims in 2.6% of cases). Rather, my study focused on the qualified immunity determination with respect to each claim of constitutional wrong.

Figure 1.  Defense Q.I. Motion Success Rates

Although approximately a third of qualified immunity motions succeeded at the pleadings stage (53/152 for all claims), as in other studies defendants were far more likely to prevail at summary judgment.149See Schwartz, supra note 23, at 39 (“[C]ourts were more likely to grant summary judgment motions on qualified immunity grounds than they were to grant motions to dismiss on qualified immunity grounds.”). Examination of qualified immunity decisions in protest-related cases thus adds some support for the claim that the defense does not generally serve the goal of weeding out cases at the earliest stages of litigation and sparing defendants the expenses of discovery.150See id. at 11 (observing that “plaintiffs can often plausibly plead clearly established constitutional violations and thus defeat motions to dismiss”). Defense success rates at the motion to dismiss stage in my study are somewhat higher than those reported in some others, but generally consistent with dismissal findings across studies.151See id. at 39 (finding 26.6% dismissal rate for motions to dismiss). In sum, in most protest cases plaintiffs were able to proceed to discovery on their claims.

As noted, courts were more likely to grant summary judgment on qualified immunity grounds than to dismiss at the pleadings stage. Across all claims, defendants prevailed on 58% (183/313) of their motions. That success rate was consistent across claims, with courts granting 60% (101/168) of defense qualified immunity motions in First Amendment cases and 57% (82/145) of summary judgment motions in Fourth Amendment cases. Again, these numbers are generally consistent with those reported in other studies.152See id. (finding courts granted 39.7% of qualified immunity summary judgment motions); see also sources cited supra note 22 (reporting low denial rates ranging from 14% to 32%).

Courts denied summary judgment as to 130 claims. In 53% of those cases (69/130), the defense motion was denied because there were genuine issues of material fact at issue. In the other 47% (61/130) of summary judgment motions, courts denied the motions on the merits (that is, held that plaintiffs had met their burden of showing a violation of clearly established law).

As shown in Figure 2, appellate courts were more likely than district courts to rule in defendants’ favor on qualified immunity. In published and unpublished decisions available on Westlaw, district courts granted 45% (128/287) of defense motions. Appellate courts ruled in defendants’ favor on 60% (109/181) of plaintiffs’ constitutional claims. These numbers are likely owing in part to defendants’ low rate of success at the pleadings stage, which in many instances were the last results coded. District courts, which faced more defense motions at the pleadings stage, were inclined to allow for some factual development before dismissing plaintiffs’ claims.

Figure 2.  Q.I. Motion Success Rates by Court

Figure 3 shows that appellate court success rates were similar if one considers only the eighty-six published decisions. Courts granted or upheld defense qualified immunity defenses with respect to 57% (77/135) of all constitutional claims. In published appellate decisions, the rate of success for defendants was still lower (48% or 15/31) at the motion to dismiss stage than when the case had reached the summary judgment stage (60% or 62/103). However, in published decisions appellate courts ruled in defendants’ favor at the pleadings stage at a somewhat higher rate than did all courts at that stage.153See supra Figure 1 (finding dismissal rate of 35% for all claims). Appellate courts may have been responding to the Supreme Court’s directive that non-meritorious cases should be dismissed at an earlier stage, or they may simply have been convinced that plaintiffs had not adequately pleaded a clearly established violation under applicable pleading rules.

Figure 3.  Q.I. Motion Success Rates in Published Appellate Decisions

As discussed earlier, under qualified immunity doctrine, courts can dismiss or grant summary judgment for defendants if the plaintiff has not demonstrated a constitutional violation occurred (“Step One”) or if, despite the occurrence of a constitutional violation, the law was not “clearly established” at the time the violation occurred (“Step Two”).154See supra notes 55–61 and accompanying text. Prior to 2009, the Supreme Court instructed lower courts to address these two steps in order.155Saucier v. Katz, 533 U.S. 194, 200–07 (2001), overruled by Pearson v. Callahan, 555 U.S. 223 (2009). In 2009, the Court held the sequence was not mandatory; thus, courts could skip Step One and base decisions solely on analysis at Step Two.156Pearson, 555 U.S. at 236.

Grants of defense qualified immunity motions were coded for sequencing. If a claim was dismissed or defendants prevailed on summary judgment, the disposition was coded “Step One” when the basis for granting or upholding qualified immunity was the absence of a constitutional violation, “Step Two” if the sole basis for granting or upholding qualified immunity was the court’s conclusion that the law was not “clearly established,” and “Both” if the court granted or upheld qualified immunity on the basis that there was a constitutional violation but the law was not “clearly established” at the time. The few instances in which the court’s decision was unclear regarding which Step it was relying on were also coded as “Both.”

Figure 4.  Sequencing and Success Rate

As indicated in Figure 4, when courts ruled in defendants’ favor in public protest cases, they did so at Step One 57% of the time (133/235). For Fourth Amendment claims, courts granted qualified immunity at Step One 63% (67/107) of the time. That percentage dropped to 52% (66/128) for First Amendment claims. The higher rate for Fourth Amendment claims may be attributable to the lenient probable cause and excessive force standards applied in Fourth Amendment cases, which make it more likely courts will conclude there was no constitutional violation. Of course, the higher success rates for defense motions may also be attributable to the relative weakness of the plaintiffs’ Fourth Amendment claims. Although not included in Figure 4, the number of overall Step One dispositions was somewhat higher (65% or 50/77) if one looks only at the eighty-six published appellate court decisions in the dataset.

Scholars have raised the concern that if courts proceed directly to Step Two there will be fewer opportunities to develop “clearly established” law, thus making it more difficult for plaintiffs to prevail in qualified immunity cases.157See, e.g., Schwartz, supra note 23, at 76 (discussing the adverse effect sequencing can have on the development of constitutional law). There is also a related concern that constitutional law will stagnate or fail to develop if courts do not rule on the constitutional question at Step One.158See Schwartz, supra note 24, at 1814–20 (discussing concerns that qualified immunity results in courts failing to define the contours of constitutional rights).

My data do not indicate courts are engaged in widespread avoidance of constitutional issues in public protest cases. But again, the findings may be driven in part by the constitutional standards courts are called upon to apply to First Amendment and Fourth Amendment claims. Those standards call for, among other things, consideration of context and assessment of the “reasonableness” of governmental actions. The constitutional doctrine may make it easier for courts to dispose of claims by concluding no violation has occurred, that plaintiffs have not satisfied their burden of providing evidence of a constitutional violation, or that the law is not sufficiently clear.

The data show that in a significant percentage of instances, 35% overall (82/235), courts relied on the Step Two conclusion that the law was not “clearly established.”159The data did not produce a large enough sample size to assess whether the Court’s decision in Pearson, which allowed courts to address Step Two first in qualified immunity cases, had any effect on the sequencing. In these instances, courts did not address the substance of the constitutional claims. As discussed later, judicial reliance on a lack of clearly established law in public protest cases has probably limited development of substantive constitutional law regarding First Amendment and Fourth Amendment rights.160See infra Sections III.B–C. Consider that in 42% (54/128) of rulings in defendants’ favor on First Amendment claims, courts relied on the absence of clearly established law regarding issues ranging from the constitutionality of exclusions of protesters from public properties to the right to record law enforcement. Those rulings make it more difficult for plaintiffs in future cases to prove a violation or show the law is clearly established.161See Schwartz, supra note 24, at 1815 (noting the Court’s qualified immunity decisions have created a “vicious cycle”). Courts also avoided the constitutional question in motions addressing a quarter of Fourth Amendment claims.

Some commentators have suggested that qualified immunity doctrine allows for development of substantive law because it permits courts to find a constitutional violation at Step One but still hold the law was not clearly established at Step Two.162See, e.g., John C. Jeffries, Jr., The Right-Remedy Gap in Constitutional Law, 109 Yale L.J. 87, 99–100 (1999) (arguing that qualified immunity standards allow for judicial innovation). My data show little evidence of such innovative judicial practice. Only 6% (8/129) of First Amendment claims were disposed of in this way, with a slightly higher percentage of Fourth Amendment claims (11% or 12/108). Again, these percentages track other studies’ findings.163See Nielson & Walker, supra note 79, at 37 (discussing studies finding that in only 2.5–7.9% of claims did courts find there was a constitutional violation but upheld qualified immunity).

Finally, my data show that appellate reversal or affirmance rates in protest-related qualified immunity cases were very low. Overall, appeals courts reversed lower court decisions on qualified immunity only 33% (59/181) of the time. For First Amendment claims, the reversal rate was 33% (36/108) and for Fourth Amendment claims it was 32% (23/73). These reversal rates are generally consistent with those reported in other qualified immunity studies.164See Schwartz, supra note 23, at 41 (finding an affirmance rate of 65.4%). A closer look at these data demonstrates that appellate courts reversed district courts 40% of the time (25/62) when they denied a qualified immunity motion, but only 26% of the time (30/114) when they granted a qualified immunity motion. This finding is consistent with the data in Figure 2, which show appellate courts were more likely to rule in favor of qualified immunity across a range of claims.

2.  First Amendment Claims

In addition to the general claims data discussed above, the Qualified Immunity dataset includes more specific information about First Amendment claims. The data include the types of claims protesters pursued, the success rates for qualified immunity motions respecting different types of claims, and the substantive law as it pertains to the First Amendment rights of public protesters.

i.  Types of Claims

There are 253 First Amendment claims in the Qualified Immunity dataset. Figure 5 shows the distribution and frequency of the six most common types of First Amendment claims.

Figure 5.  Types of First Amendment Claims

Retaliation claims were the most frequently litigated type of First Amendment claim. Law enforcement or other government officials violate the First Amendment when they arrest, use force against, or otherwise restrict expressive activity in retaliation for the exercise of First Amendment rights.165Hartman v. Moore, 547 U.S. 250, 256 (2006). To prevail on a retaliation claim, “the plaintiffs must show that they engaged in protected activity, that the defendants’ actions caused an injury to the plaintiffs that would chill a person of ordinary firmness from continuing to engage in the activity, and that a causal connection exists between the retaliatory animus and the injury.”166Bernini v. City of St. Paul, 665 F.3d 997, 1007 (8th Cir. 2012); see also Baribeau v. City of Minneapolis, 596 F.3d 465, 481 (8th Cir. 2010).

As discussed earlier, in Nieves v. Bartlett (2019), the Supreme Court modified the law with respect to retaliation claims.167See Nieves v. Bartlett, 587 U.S. 391, 400 (2019) (holding that probable cause to arrest generally negates a First Amendment retaliation claim). The Qualified Immunity dataset includes decisions addressing seventy-eight retaliation claims subject to the standards that applied prior to Nieves.168Post-Nieves retaliation claims were collected in a separate dataset and are discussed infra Section III.C.

Nearly half (124/253 or 49%) of the First Amendment claims pertained to protesters’ rights to access public properties and the doctrines that apply to speech and assembly in those places. Individuals and groups have a First Amendment right to speak and assemble in certain public properties, including public streets, parks, and sidewalks.169See Perry Educ. Ass’n v. Perry Local Educators’ Ass’n, 460 U.S. 37, 45 (1983) (explaining modern public forum doctrine). While governments can impose content-neutral time, place, and manner restrictions on speech and assembly in these “quintessential” public fora, they generally cannot restrict expression based on its content or prohibit access altogether.170Id. Under the First Amendment, regulations of speech based on subject matter or viewpoint receive strict judicial scrutiny and must be narrowly tailored to further compelling governmental interests.171See Reed v. Town of Gilbert, 576 U.S. 155, 170 (2015) (explaining that content-based speech regulations are subject to strict scrutiny). Thirty-seven First Amendment claims asserted that government regulated speech based on its content. Time, place, or manner regulations are subject to a lower degree of judicial scrutiny. They must be content-neutral, supported by important governmental interests, narrowly tailored to burden no more speech than necessary, and must leave available alternative channels of communication.172Ward v. Rock Against Racism, 491 U.S. 781, 791 (1989). Fifty-three First Amendment claims involved application of this standard.

Under the First Amendment, protesters and other speakers also have a right to access other public forums, primarily depending on the extent to which governments intend to allow expressive activities in these places and the extent to which such activities would affect their ordinary functioning.173See Perry, 460 U.S. at 45. In places generally open to the public for expressive purposes, or so-called designated public fora, governments can impose content-neutral time, place, and manner regulations.174Id. at 45–46. In “non-public” or “limited” public forums, regulations need only be viewpoint-neutral and reasonable.175Cornelius v. NAACP Legal Def. & Educ. Fund, 473 U.S. 788, 799–800 (1985). Thirty-four First Amendment claims concerned government restrictions on access to various public properties.

Rounding out the First Amendment claims, protesters brought thirty-two claims challenging a variety of policing methods—for example, use of tear gas, herding or “kettling” of protesters, and surveillance of protest groups. Protesters claimed these actions chilled or prohibited expression. Plaintiffs also pursued a dozen claims relating to arrests or other adverse actions taken against protesters who were recording law enforcement at public demonstrations. As discussed below, whether there is a First Amendment right to record police is an issue on which courts remain somewhat divided.176See infra notes 225–27 and accompanying text; see also Karen M. Blum, Qualified Immunity: Time to Change the Message, 93 Notre Dame L. Rev. 1887, 1897 (2018) (discussing the circuit split on the right to record).

ii.  Claims Disposition Data

Figure 6 shows the success rates for qualified immunity motions respecting the five most common types of First Amendment claims.177Since the dataset included only twelve “right to record” claims, the sample size was considered too small to produce any meaningful conclusions. Significant findings relate to the procedural posture of qualified immunity dispositions and the disparate success rates for qualified immunity motions challenging certain claims.

Figure 6.  Q.I. Motion Success Rates by First Amendment Claim

Although some of the sample sizes are small, the data generally show that plaintiffs were able to keep claims alive at the pleadings stage. The success rate percentages for retaliation, content-based speech regulations, and access to forum claims were in line with the overall pleadings stage dismissal percentages reported earlier.178See supra Section II.A.1.

Two claims produced unanticipated results. In qualified immunity motions respecting challenges to time, place, and manner regulations, defendants prevailed 63% (10/16) of the time. The judicial balancing that applies to time, place, and manner regulations generally requires consideration of factual context not typically available at the pleadings stage. The high success rate may reflect the deferential standard applicable to content-neutral time, place, and manner regulations, the uncertain state of the law as it pertains to application of the standard, the relative strength or weakness of the claims in the dataset, or some combination of these factors.

The other unexpected finding is that only 7% (1/14) of motions to dismiss First Amendment challenges to protest policing methods were successful. However, several of these claims relied on allegations that police had used aggressive policing methods against compliant and peaceful protesters or dispersed assemblies without cause or warning.179See Green v. City of St. Louis, 52 F.4th 734, 740 (8th Cir. 2022) (concluding that deploying tear gas against protesters who were not engaging in illegal activity violated clearly established First Amendment rights); cf. Quraishi v. St. Charles County, 986 F.3d 831, 838 (8th Cir. 2021) (holding that using tear gas or other law enforcement tactics to interfere with reporting activity violated clearly established First Amendment rights). Taking those allegations as true, courts concluded they stated a clear violation of the First Amendment.

At summary judgment, defendants substantially prevailed on their qualified immunity motions, winning 72% (26/36) of time, place, and manner claims, 62% (33/53) of retaliation claims, and 55% (11/18) of claims challenging protest policing methods. Again, there were a couple of exceptions. Defendants were granted qualified immunity as to only 44% (11/25) of claims involving content-based speech regulations and won only 50% (10/20) of motions relating to claims involving access to public property. This may reflect the fact that the law in both areas is longstanding and relatively clear. As discussed, under the First Amendment, laws or regulations based on content face a heavy presumption of invalidity. Similarly, protesters have a presumptive right to access certain public properties including public parks, streets, and sidewalks.

iii.  First Amendment Law and Protesters’ Rights

The numbers paint an important, if only partial, picture when it comes to application of qualified immunity doctrine in First Amendment cases. The study was also designed to identify and critically analyze the substantive law that has developed—or failed to develop—during application of qualified immunity doctrine. The law that matters most is controlling authority in a specific jurisdiction. However, using a qualitative assessment, we can get a more general sense of the development of substantive standards concerning protesters’ First Amendment rights. The assessment that follows relies primarily on published appellate court decisions but, when useful in terms of filling some gaps, also considers published district court decisions.

Although retaliation claims were the most common in the Qualified Immunity dataset, the core First Amendment rights of protesters relate to access to public properties and the application of content neutrality standards there. Protesters rely on access to public forums such as public streets, parks, and sidewalks, as well as other public properties, to organize and participate in public demonstrations, rallies, and other events.

In public forum qualified immunity cases, several courts treated arbitrary, broad, and effective denials of access to public fora as First Amendment violations.180See Collins v. Jordan, 110 F.3d 1363, 1371 (9th Cir. 1996) (holding that dispersing protesters absent evidence they are unlawful, violent, pose a clear and present danger of imminent violence, or violate some law violated the First Amendment); Dean v. Byerley, 354 F.3d 540, 559 (6th Cir. 2004) (holding that picketer has a First Amendment right to engage in peaceful targeted residential picketing); Dietrich v. John Ascuaga’s Nugget, 548 F.3d 892, 898 (9th Cir. 2008) (concluding that the complete exclusion of plaintiffs from a public sidewalk violated the First Amendment); Huminski v. Corsones, 396 F.3d 53, 92–93 (2d Cir. 2004) (finding that although the right was not clearly established, issuance of trespass notices indefinitely excluding a protester from state courthouses and lands violated the First Amendment); McGlone v. Bell, 681 F.3d 718, 733–35 (6th Cir. 2012) (holding that a state university’s fourteen business day advance notice requirement in policy requiring nonaffiliated individuals and groups to obtain permission before speaking on certain parts of its campus was an unconstitutional restriction on free speech); Occupy Columbia v. Haley, 738 F.3d 107, 125 (4th Cir. 2013) (holding that arresting protestors for their presence and protests on state house grounds after a certain time of day violated their First Amendment rights). They also held that precedents clearly established protesters’ rights to distribute pamphlets and have access to an audience in a public forum,181See Amnesty Int’l, USA v. Battle, 559 F.3d 1170, 1185 (11th Cir. 2009) (observing that while none of the cases “are on all fours with the instant case, and do not clearly elucidate the fact-specific rule that police may not create a police cordon that makes a protest rally totally ineffective,” prior cases “need not be ‘materially similar’ to the present circumstances so long as the right is ‘sufficiently clear that a reasonable official would understand that what he is doing violates that right’ ” and “[t]here need not . . . be a prior case wherein ‘the very action in question has previously been held unlawful’ ”). The court concluded the defendants “had fair warning that Amnesty had a clearly established right to assemble, to protest, and to be heard while doing so.” Id. engage in peaceful residential picketing,182Dean, 354 F.3d at 559. protest on private property with the owner’s consent,183Jones v. Parmley, 465 F.3d 46, 58–59 (2d Cir. 2006). be present on State House grounds after 6:00 p.m.,184Occupy Columbia, 738 F.3d at 125. and engage in non-disruptive activity on a public sidewalk adjacent to a public school.185People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals v. Rasmussen, 298 F.3d 1198, 1204 (10th Cir. 2002).

However, appellate courts upheld several bans on protest in government properties other than public streets, parks, and sidewalks.186See Braun v. Baldwin, 346 F.3d 761, 765–66 (7th Cir. 2003) (finding that it was not a First Amendment violation to arrest a speaker for disorderly conduct when he distributed pro-jury nullification pamphlets inside a courthouse and refused to desist when ordered to do so); Oberwetter v. Hilliard, 639 F.3d 545, 554 (D.C. Cir. 2011) (concluding that arresting a protester for staging an unlawful performance inside the Jefferson Memorial did not violate a clearly established First Amendment right); Paff v. Kaltenbach, 204 F.3d 425, 433–34 (3d Cir. 2000) (holding that it was not a violation of the First Amendment to arrest political party activists for criminal trespass while they were leafleting on the sidewalk outside a U.S. Post Office on income tax day). In addition, they concluded the following actions did not violate clearly established First Amendment rights to access public properties:

  • Enforcing an invalid permit ordinance that violated the First Amendment, on the ground that the officer was entitled to rely on the ordinance;187Grossman v. City of Portland, 33 F.3d 1200, 1210 (9th Cir. 1994).
  • Excluding a protester from state courthouse grounds and lands, because the “right of access to judicial proceedings” was not clearly established at the time;188Huminski v. Corsones, 396 F.3d 53, 68 (2d Cir. 2005).
  • Arresting a protester for refusing to move a rally from the sidewalk adjacent to Liberty Bell Center in Independence National Historic Park, because it was not clearly established at the time that the sidewalk was a public forum;189Marcavage v. Nat’l Park Serv., 666 F.3d 856, 859 (3d Cir. 2012).
  • Promulgating and enforcing a curfew, since protestors did not have a clearly established right under the First Amendment to continuously occupy a plaza on state capitol grounds for an indefinite time;190Occupy Nashville v. Haslam, 769 F.3d 434, 445–46 (6th Cir. 2014). and
  • Denying a state university student’s request to set up a table in the patio area outside the student union, since the right to access such space was not clearly established.191Turning Point USA at Ark. State Univ. v. Rhodes, 973 F.3d 868, 880 (8th Cir. 2020).

As one might expect based on qualified immunity doctrine, the forum access precedents allow protesters to hold officials liable for egregious restrictions, including flat bans on access to traditional or quintessential public fora. However, they also permit officials to enforce otherwise unconstitutional permit requirements and exclude protesters from important venues on the ground that there is insufficient controlling authority addressing access to those places or no reasonable official would know this violated the First Amendment.

According to the decisions, it is difficult for protesters to prove a clearly established right to access a property unless that same property has been previously declared a public forum for First Amendment purposes. But when courts rely on the absence of controlling authority with respect to a public place, they fail to develop forum law. This is part of qualified immunity’s “vicious cycle.”192Schwartz, supra note 24, at 1815.

Protesters also rely on courts to enforce content neutrality rules in public places. The data suggest they have done so unevenly and inconsistently. The Supreme Court has admonished lower courts not to define constitutional issues at a high level of generality but to rely only on controlling precedent.193White v. Pauly, 580 U.S. 73, 78–79 (2017). Nevertheless, in some contexts, courts applied general doctrinal rules to deny qualified immunity. In these instances, failure to follow the Court’s instructions benefitted protester plaintiffs.

For example, courts relied on the general principle that content-based regulations of expression violate the First Amendment. Based on that principle, they held that forcing abortion protesters to vacate a public sidewalk based on the content of their signs or arresting someone for, without more, burning an American flag violated clearly established First Amendment rights.194See Cannon v. City and Cnty. of Denver, 998 F.2d 867, 878–79 (10th Cir. 1993) (holding arrest of anti-abortion protesters for carrying signs reading “the killing place” on public sidewalk violated the First Amendment); Logsdon v. Hains, 492 F.3d 334, 346 (6th Cir. 2007) (holding police officers who allegedly removed anti-abortion protester from public sidewalk based on the content of his expression were not entitled to qualified immunity); Snider v. City of Cape Girardeau, 752 F.3d 1149, 1158–59 (8th Cir. 2014) (concluding the First Amendment prohibits the arrest and prosecution of an individual for, without more, burning the American flag to express an opinion). They also concluded, again based on general standards forbidding content-based speech regulations, that public university officials cannot prohibit student protests because of the content of their message and law enforcement officers violated the First Amendment when they made no serious effort to quell hecklers before shutting down a public protest.195See Crue v. Aiken, 370 F.3d 668, 680–81 (7th Cir. 2004) (holding it is clearly established that the First Amendment protects the rights of students and faculty to address student athletes on the issue of the racist nature of mascot); Bible Believers v. Wayne County, 805 F.3d 228, 256 (6th Cir. 2015) (concluding that imposing content-based heckler’s veto violated clearly established First Amendment rights; crowd’s violence was not substantial, evangelists were peaceful, and officers made no serious attempt to quell hecklers). Similarly, appellate courts held that it is clearly established that protesters cannot be arrested for communicating protected profanity.196See Sandul v. Larion, 119 F.3d 1250, 1256 (6th Cir. 1997) (concluding that well-established Supreme Court precedents demonstrate that saying “f—k you” to abortion protesters is constitutionally protected speech). Finally, one appeals court held that protesters cannot be arrested for engaging in an unusual form of dissent, on the ground that the First Amendment “protects bizarre behavior.”197See Tobey v. Jones, 706 F.3d 379, 388 (4th Cir. 2013) (concluding the First Amendment “protects bizarre behavior,” including airline passenger’s right to display peaceful non-disruptive message in protest of government policy).

By contrast, when courts followed qualified immunity law to the letter, they frequently upheld government actions that violated content neutrality rules. In several cases courts concluded defendants were entitled to qualified immunity even though they adopted or enforced content-based regulations. For example, courts held that the following actions and regulations did not violate clearly established First Amendment law:

  • Ordering anti-abortion activists displaying fetuses near a middle school to disperse under a law prohibiting disruptive presence at schools;198Ctr. for Bio-Ethical Reform v. L.A. Cnty. Sheriff Dep’t., 533 F.3d 780, 794 (9th Cir. 2008).
  • Arresting protesters for demonstrating publicly in thong underwear;199Egolf v. Witmer, 526 F.3d 104, 111 (3d Cir. 2008).
  • Arresting the driver of a truck who painted words on the side of his truck indicating he was “a fucking suicide bomber communist terrorist!” with “W.O.M.D. on Board”;200Fogel v. Collins, 531 F.3d 824, 827 (9th Cir. 2008).
  • Excluding a protester from a welcoming ceremony authorized by U.S. Senate resolution for carrying a sign objecting to the intended disposition of Olympic dormitories for correctional purposes;201Kroll v. U.S. Capitol Police, 847 F.2d 899, 904 (D.C. Cir. 1988).
  • Preventing a journalist from engaging with a counter-protester, under threat of arrest, at a public library children’s book reading event called “Drag Queen Story Hour”;202Saved Mag. v. Spokane Police Dep’t., 19 F.4th 1193, 1195 (9th Cir. 2021). and
  • Excluding protesters from an official speech on private property because of the viewpoint of a message displayed on a bumper sticker on their car.203Weise v. Casper, 593 F.3d 1163, 1169 (10th Cir. 2010).

In these instances, courts did not apply general content neutrality principles. Instead, they required that protesters identify controlling authority with facts similar or identical to those in the case under review—a case (or two) involving protesters in thong underwear or messages on bumper stickers, for example. With respect to novel claims, or at least claims courts viewed as such, they were quite strict about application of qualified immunity standards. To be fair to lower courts, even the Supreme Court has sometimes equivocated on the content neutrality point in the context of protests. The Court held in one case that it was not clearly established that Secret Service agents bore a responsibility to ensure that protest groups with different viewpoints had access to comparable locations during a presidential visit.204Wood v. Moss, 572 U.S. 744, 759–60 (2014). Even so, looking for precedential twins and dead ringers in highly context-specific protest cases led courts to uphold qualified immunity.

Protesters’ speech and assembly rights are substantially affected by the enforcement of time, place, and manner regulations. Here, too, the data show very mixed success for protester plaintiffs. In several cases challenging time, place, and manner restrictions, courts concluded protesters had either not alleged or adduced evidence of a First Amendment violation.205See Frye v. Kansas City Missouri Police Dep’t., 375 F.3d 785, 790 (8th Cir. 2004) (holding officers did not violate the First Amendment when they ordered anti-abortion protesters to relocate signs depicting aborted fetuses, which were distracting to drivers); Hartman v. Thompson, 931 F.3d 471, 480–81 (6th Cir. 2019) (holding it did not violate the First Amendment to move protesters to a speech zone at a state fair); Kass v. City of New York, 864 F.3d 200, 209 (2d Cir. 2017) (concluding that ordering person obstructing sidewalk to move along or use protest zone did not violate the First Amendment); Marcavage v. City of Chicago, 659 F.3d 626, 631 (7th Cir. 2011) (city police officers did not violate the First Amendment free speech rights of religious organization’s members by refusing to permit them to stand on sidewalks leading to homosexual athletic and cultural events in order to conduct outreach activities, despite members’ contention that alternative venues were inadequate); Marcavage v. City of New York, 689 F.3d 98, 109 (2d Cir. 2012) (holding city’s restrictions on expressive activity on a public sidewalk during a national political convention did not violate protestors’ First Amendment rights; city had significant interest in keeping the sidewalk across from an arena in which the convention was being held clear for pedestrians and in maintaining security, and even though there were no specific threats of violence, where area was generally crowded, the sidewalk next to the arena had been closed to pedestrian traffic, fifty thousand attendees were expected for the convention itself, and the President, Vice President, and other government officials were attending the convention); Pahls v. Thomas, 718 F.3d 1210, 1234–35 (10th Cir. 2013) (holding enforcing viewpoint-neutral policy to move protesters to the south side of a road while opponents were allowed to stay in a more favorable location on private property did not violate the First Amendment); Ross v. Early, 746 F.3d 546, 558 (4th Cir. 2014) (enforcement of a free speech zone against demonstrator who was arrested for leafleting outside of designated area near arena did not violate the First Amendment). In others, courts concluded that the applicable law concerning time, place, and manner was not clearly established:

  • The Fourth Circuit held that a reasonable officer could have believed, in 2005, that prohibiting an abortion protester from displaying large, graphic signs depicting aborted fetuses at a major intersection was lawful because case law from the Fourth Circuit and Supreme Court was ambiguous on that issue.206Lefemine v. Wideman, 672 F.3d 292, 300–01 (4th Cir. 2012), vacated, 568 U.S. 1 (2012).
  • The Ninth Circuit concluded that denial of protestors’ application for a march permit without a promise on protestors’ part not to engage in civil disobedience was unlawful, but the condition did not violate clearly established First Amendment rights under controlling circuit and Supreme Court precedent.207Galvin v. Hay, 374 F.3d 739, 746–47 (9th Cir. 2004).
  • The D.C. Circuit held that a reasonable police officer could have believed that, given its proximity to the Capitol, a protest on the East Front sidewalk of the U.S. Capitol was subject to different First Amendment standards than apply in similar public properties.208Lederman v. United States, 291 F.3d 36, 47–48 (D.C. Cir. 2002). The court also agreed with the government’s assertion that because narrow tailoring is “ ‘not an exact science,’ a reasonable officer should not be expected to perform that analysis prior to arresting an individual for violating a time, place, and manner restriction governing expressive activity in a public forum.”209Id. at 47.

As critics of qualified immunity doctrine have complained, in determining whether the law of time, place, and manner was clearly established, some courts engaged in factual parsing and line-drawing. For example, the Ninth Circuit concluded that relegation of a public prayer event to a “First Amendment area” burdened the plaintiffs’ speech to a substantially greater degree than necessary to achieve the government’s purposes.210Galvin, 374 F.3d at 755. However, the court held officials were entitled to qualified immunity because the relevant case law indicated that time, place, and manner doctrine, in particular the narrow tailoring requirement, distinguished between claims that an audience is essential to the message being conveyed and claims that location was essential for that purpose.211Id. at 757. Since plaintiffs were challenging the regulation based on locational as opposed to audience proximity, the court reasoned, a reasonable official would not have had sufficiently clear legal guidance to avoid violating the plaintiffs’ First Amendment rights.212Id. The Ninth Circuit’s “narrow tailoring” analysis highlights a central challenge plaintiffs face in terms of identifying clearly established law.

Protesters also brought First Amendment challenges to various protest policing methods, including issuance of unlawful dispersal orders, use of less-lethal weapons during protest events, and surveillance of protest groups. The Eleventh Circuit held that using cordons or barriers that prevent protesters from being seen or heard by anyone violates the First Amendment.213See Amnesty Int’l, USA v. Battle, 559 F.3d 1170, 1184–85 (11th Cir. 2009) (holding that the creation of a cordon that rendered a protest ineffective by preventing protesters from being seen or heard by anyone violated First Amendment rights). Several courts held that arbitrary dispersals of otherwise lawful public protests violate clearly established First Amendment law.214See Collins v. Jordan, 110 F.3d 1363, 1371–73 (9th Cir. 1996) (explaining that it is clearly established law that protests cannot be dispersed on ground they are unlawful unless they are violent or pose a clear and present danger of imminent violence or they are violating some other law in the process; a reasonable officer could not have believed that violent protests that occurred in the wake of a verdict in a highly publicized criminal trial in another city justified a ban on all public demonstrations the following evening); Davidson v. City of Stafford, Texas, 848 F.3d 384, 393–94 (5th Cir. 2017) (holding that arresting an anti-abortion protester while he was protesting outside an abortion clinic, without actual or arguable probable cause to support arrest, violated clearly established First Amendment rights). Courts also concluded that deploying tear gas and other less-lethal munitions against protesters who are not engaging in any illegal activity is unconstitutional.215See Green v. City of St. Louis, 52 F.4th 734, 740 (8th Cir. 2022) (concluding that deploying tear gas against protesters who were not engaging in illegal activity violated clearly established First Amendment rights); cf. Quraishi v. St. Charles Cnty., 986 F.3d 831, 839 (8th Cir. 2021) (explaining that it was clearly established that using tear gas or other law enforcement tactics to interfere with reporting activity violated First Amendment). Finally, the Ninth Circuit held that government officials violated clearly established First Amendment law when they conducted an eight-month investigation into a vocal, but entirely peaceful group.216White v. Lee, 227 F.3d 1214, 1239 (9th Cir. 2000).

However, results changed dramatically if courts discerned even an inkling of disruption or potential for violence at a public protest. In that event, they were far more likely to give law enforcement the benefit of the doubt in terms of protest-policing methods. For example, courts held that confiscating signs at demonstrations, using tear gas against protesters blocking egress from an industrial plant, arresting protesters who refused law enforcement directives to use a “free speech zone,” and making preemptive arrests did not violate the First Amendment or did not violate clearly established law.217See Allen v. Cisneros, 815 F.3d 239, 245 (5th Cir. 2015) (concluding that confiscation of shofar and signs at a demonstration did not violate the plaintiff’s first amendment rights); Ellsworth v. City of Lansing, No. 99-1045, 2000 U.S. App. LEXIS 2049, at *8 (6th Cir. Feb. 10, 2000) (concluding that use of tear gas against picketers blocking egress from industrial plant did not violate the First Amendment); Marcavage v. City of New York, 689 F.3d 98, 110 (2d Cir. 2012) (holding that probable cause supported protestors’ warrantless arrests for obstruction of governmental administration, where protestors rejected seventeen directives by three officers to leave no-demonstration zone, insisting on their constitutional right to demonstrate where they stood); Cross v. Mokwa, 547 F.3d 890, 897 (8th Cir. 2008) (explaining that it was not clearly established that a police officer could be liable on a prior restraint theory for conducting a search and making arrests supported by probable cause when occupants of condemned buildings were there illegally). In sum, while peaceful and compliant protesters were successful in pursuing challenges to protest policing methods, evidence or even allegations of disruption or potential for violence made success far less likely.

As noted earlier, the most frequently pursued First Amendment claim was that officials unlawfully retaliated against protesters for engaging in protected speech and assembly.218Hartman v. Moore, 547 U.S. 250, 256 (2006). Lower federal court decisions in the Qualified Immunity dataset did not produce much law concerning First Amendment retaliation claims. Retaliation claims often turn on the motive of the defendant, thus making them poor vehicles for establishing bright line rules.219See, e.g., Brown v. City of St. Louis, No. 18 CV 1676, 2022 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 85588, at *13 (E.D. Mo. May 12, 2022) (explaining that protesters’ retaliation claim failed because they did not show officers were aware of their presence, that they objected in any way to their presence or activities, or that they intentionally directed the pepper spray at them because of their First Amendment activities). They are also fact-dependent in other ways.

In a typical case, the Eighth Circuit held that when protesters moved toward officers “in a threatening manner” and blocked traffic, “[a] reasonable officer could conclude that this conduct violated Minnesota law and was not protected speech.”220Bernini v. City of St. Paul, 665 F.3d 997, 1007 (8th Cir. 2012). Further, the court concluded that since there was no evidence the protesters had been singled out while other similarly situated speakers had not been arrested, “[t]he only reasonable inference supported by the record is that the group’s unlawful conduct, not the protected speech, motivated the officers’ actions.”221Id.

Nevertheless, a few retaliation decisions produced intriguing results. In one case, a district court held that retaliating against protesters for their speech by surveilling them and pointing a red laser from a sniper rifle at a group member during a speech violated the First Amendment.222Black Lives Matter v. Town of Clarkstown, 354 F. Supp. 3d 313, 327 (S.D.N.Y. 2018). In an unpublished decision, the Ninth Circuit concluded that a reasonable official would know that directing a train into the path of demonstrators, one of whom lost his legs as a result, to stop a protest violated the First Amendment.223Willson v. Hubbard, No. 88-15671, 1990 WL 43011, at *2 (9th Cir. Apr. 6, 1990). In these decisions, at least, the courts did not point to any prior precedent with similar facts. Perhaps when the facts are so egregious, courts are willing to bend the clearly established standard.

Finally, courts addressed claims that officers violated the First Amendment when they interfered with or prevented the recording of officers as they engaged in protest policing. As Joanna Schwartz has observed, “[c]oncerns that the Court’s qualified immunity jurisprudence renders the Constitution hollow are even more acute for constitutional claims involving new technologies and techniques.”224Schwartz, supra note 24, at 1817. Several courts have held that there is a First Amendment right to record police at a public protest and that right is clearly established.225See Smith v. City of Cumming, 212 F.3d 1332, 1333 (11th Cir. 2000) (holding that there is a First Amendment right to record the police at a public protest, but that plaintiffs did not demonstrate the right had been violated); Gericke v. Begin, 753 F.3d 1, 10 (1st Cir. 2014) (holding that arresting person for attempting to film officer in a public place and in the absence of any order to stop filming violated the plaintiff’s First Amendment rights); Glik v. Cunniffe, 655 F.3d 78, 85 (1st Cir. 2011) (concluding that arresting citizens for filming law enforcement officers in the discharge of their duties in a public space violates the First Amendment). However, other courts have held that at the time of the alleged violation, the right to record was not clearly established or not apparent to all reasonable officers.226See Fields v. City of Philadelphia, 862 F.3d 353, 361–62 (3d Cir. 2017) (explaining that there is a First Amendment right to record police, but it wasn’t clear that the law gave fair warning so that every reasonable officer knew that, absent some sort of expressive intent, recording police activity at a public protest was constitutionally protected; there was “no robust consensus” concerning the right to record police in public places); Fordyce v. City of Seattle, 55 F.3d 436, 439–40 (9th Cir. 1995) (concluding that all individual police officers were entitled to qualified immunity with respect to plaintiff’s section 1983 damages claims relating to his arrest under a Washington statute prohibiting the recording of private conversations; at time of arrest, whether and under what circumstances conversations in public streets could be deemed private within the meaning of the privacy statute was not yet settled under state law and under the facts, a reasonable officer could have believed the plaintiff was recording private conversations in violation of the statute); see also Blum, supra note 176, at 1895 (noting the circuit split on the right to record). Courts have also observed that the right is not unlimited, and that arresting protesters for recording officers in ways that interfere with their duties does not violate clearly established law.227See, e.g., Fleck v. Trs. of Univ. of Pa., 995 F. Supp. 2d 390, 398, 408 (E.D. Pa. 2014) (concluding that a preacher engaging in disruptive behavior in a mosque entryway did not have a clearly established right to continue to record a police officer while holding camera close to the officer’s face after the officer requested that the preacher stop recording).

In sum, First Amendment decisions in the Qualified Immunity dataset demonstrate many of the pathologies of qualified immunity doctrine. While courts have held that egregious forms of governmental abuse can be the basis for a claim under section 1983, they have also upheld qualified immunity in cases involving denial of access to public fora, content discrimination, and questionable time, place, and manner regulations. Courts have applied the doctrine inconsistently, sometimes relying on general principles and in other instances demanding precise controlling authority.

We also learned that although wholly peaceful and compliant protesters can pursue claims for damages, at the first sign of disruption or potential violence, courts deferred to officers’ choice to use aggressive protest policing methods. In terms of retaliation, government actors probably cannot mow down demonstrators with a train—although the only opinion on this matter is unpublished and is not controlling authority concerning other types of conveyances. Again, in instances in which the facts are truly egregious, courts may apply the qualified immunity standard more flexibly. Finally, the cases indicate that not all appellate courts have concluded that there is a clearly established First Amendment right to record police at demonstrations.

3.  Fourth Amendment Claims

The Qualified Immunity dataset includes court decisions in which 215 Fourth Amendment claims were the subject of defense qualified immunity motions. Although the data support some clear limitations on governmental actions under the Fourth Amendment in the protest context, they also demonstrate an overall lack of substantive development.

i.  Types of Claims

Figure 7 shows the most common Fourth Amendment claims plaintiffs pursued in the cases in the Qualified Immunity dataset. The general standards governing these 215 Fourth Amendment claims are well-established.

Figure 7.  Types of Fourth Amendment Claims

The Fourth Amendment protects the “right of the people to be secure in their persons . . . against unreasonable searches and seizures.”228U.S. Const. amend. IV. To prevail on a claim for false arrest, a plaintiff must demonstrate that officers lacked probable cause to make the arrest. Probable cause to arrest exists when the officers have knowledge or reasonably trustworthy information of facts and circumstances that are sufficient to warrant a person of reasonable caution in the belief that the person to be arrested has committed or is committing a crime.229Dunaway v. New York, 442 U.S. 200, 208 n.9 (1979). The existence of probable cause to arrest, even for a very minor offense, is a complete defense to a Fourth Amendment false arrest claim.230See Atwater v. City of Lago Vista, 532 U.S. 318, 354 (2001) (“If an officer has probable cause to believe that an individual has committed even a very minor criminal offense in his presence, he may, without violating the Fourth Amendment, arrest the offender.”).

In an excessive force claim, a plaintiff must show that the use of force was excessive under the facts and circumstances presented.231Graham v. Connor, 490 U.S. 386, 396 (1989). In making this determination, the Supreme Court has instructed lower courts to pay “careful attention” to factors such as “the severity of the crime at issue, whether the suspect poses an immediate threat to the safety of the officers or others, and whether he is actively resisting arrest or attempting to evade arrest by flight.”232Id. As the Court has emphasized, “[t]he ‘reasonableness’ of a particular use of force must be judged from the perspective of a reasonable officer on the scene, rather than with the 20/20 vision of hindsight.”233Id.

Finally, a seizure of the person occurs “when there is a governmental termination of freedom of movement through means intentionally applied.”234Brower v. Cnty. of Inyo, 489 U.S. 593, 597 (1989); see Torres v. Madrid, 141 S. Ct. 989, 998 (2021). To be valid under the Fourth Amendment, a seizure or detention must be reasonable under the circumstances. Under the Fourth Amendment, an officer may seize an individual’s property from a public area “only if Fourth Amendment standards are satisfied—for example, if the items are evidence of a crime or contraband.”235Soldal v. Cook Cnty., 506 U.S. 56, 68 (1992). Officers may also conduct searches incident to arrest when they have reasonable suspicion contraband is present.236Terry v. Ohio, 392 U.S. 1, 30 (1968).

ii.  Claims Disposition Data

The success rates for defense motions to dismiss or for summary judgment based on qualified immunity are shown in Figure 8. The same caveats that applied to determining successful disposition of defense motions respecting First Amendment claims apply to Fourth Amendment claims. The findings count granted motions to dismiss and for summary judgment, and appellate court rulings upholding those grants as successful whether or not plaintiffs amended their complaints or their claims were considered on remand after appeal. The success rates are, as indicated, snapshots of dispositions in reported decisions available on Westlaw.

Figure 8 shows that, like the First Amendment claims in the dataset, two-thirds or more of Fourth Amendment claims survived defense motions to dismiss. By contrast, at summary judgment, courts were much more inclined to grant or uphold qualified immunity for defendants for false arrest (61% or 48/79 claims) and unlawful search or seizure (71% or 15/21 claims).

Figure 8.  Q.I. Motion Success Rates by Fourth Amendment Claim

As discussed earlier in the general data findings, when addressing qualified immunity respecting Fourth Amendment claims, courts were more likely to grant immunity at Step One. In those instances, courts held that no violation had occurred, instead of concluding that there was a lack of clearly established law at Step Two.237See supra Section III.A.1. As we have seen, courts were overall likely to grant defense motions for summary judgment. But the high rate of summary judgment for false arrest and unlawful search and seizure claims likely also reflects the deferential probable cause and reasonableness standards that apply to such claims.

The exception was defense motions for summary judgment on excessive force claims, which succeeded only 42% (19/45) of the time. As discussed below, several courts held that law enforcement uses of force against peaceful assemblies or compliant protesters constituted clear Fourth Amendment violations.238See infra notes 252–54 and accompanying text. In other cases, courts concluded that the degree or amount of force used against protesters violated clearly established Fourth Amendment standards.239See infra notes 252–54 and accompanying text. These decisions account for the lower defense success rates regarding excessive force claims at summary judgment.

iii.  Fourth Amendment Law and Protesters’ Rights

Substantive Fourth Amendment law in the context of public protest has developed slowly in lower courts. Like the discussion of First Amendment law, the following analysis focuses primarily on published federal courts of appeals decisions to assess what substantive Fourth Amendment law has been established. However, it also considers district court decisions that apply circuit precedents in Fourth Amendment qualified immunity determinations.

Appellate courts consistently held that arresting protesters without actual or arguable probable cause violated clearly established Fourth Amendment law.240See Davidson v. City of Stafford, 848 F.3d 384, 393–94 (5th Cir. 2017) (concluding that the arrest of an anti-abortion protester without probable cause violated clearly established Fourth Amendment law). They also concluded that it is a clear violation of the Fourth Amendment to arrest protesters without first issuing a dispersal order (although one district court held that officers are under no obligation to determine whether the order is lawful prior to enforcing it).241See Barham v. Ramsey, 434 F.3d 565, 573 (D.C. Cir. 2006) (holding that arresting protesters without first providing a dispersal order violated clearly established Fourth Amendment rights); Bidwell v. Cnty. of San Diego, 607 F. Supp. 3d 1084, 1099–100 (S.D. Cal. 2022) (finding no violation of clearly established Fourth Amendment law when officers failed to engage in an “individualized inquiry” regarding validity of dispersal order). Notwithstanding these limits, courts applied a flexible probable cause standard and upheld arrests for various offenses, some very minor—using noise amplification near an abortion clinic,242Duhe v. City of Little Rock, 902 F.3d 858, 861–63 (8th Cir. 2018). falling asleep in a zipped tent in a public park,243Williamson v. Cox, 952 F. Supp. 2d 176, 184 (D.D.C. 2013). openly carrying firearms on a public fishing pier,244Fla. Carry, Inc. v. City of Mia. Beach, 564 F. Supp. 3d 1213, 1233 (S.D. Fla. 2021). burning the Mexican flag in public without a permit,245Bohmfalk v. City of San Antonio, No. SA-09-CV-0497, 2009 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 109710, at *11 (W.D. Tex. 2009). and unfurling a banner outside a designated “speech zone.”246Asprey v. N. Wyo. Cmty. Coll. Dist., 823 F. App’x. 627, 633–34 (10th Cir. 2020).

Fourth Amendment law is unsettled when it comes to the validity of protesters’ arrests for engaging in protected expression. The Eighth Circuit held that arresting protesters solely for engaging in protected speech violates clearly established Fourth Amendment rights.247See Baribeau v. City of Minneapolis, 596 F.3d 465, 478–79 (8th Cir. 2010) (concluding that the arrest of protesters for playing music, broadcasting statements, dressing as zombies, and walking erratically violated clearly established Fourth Amendment rights). Similarly, the Sixth Circuit held that the law was clearly established that a county fair patron could not be arrested for disorderly conduct based on his spewing profanities at police and a fairgrounds executive director when he was being escorted off the fairgrounds (apparently for wearing a shirt stating “Fuck the Police”).248Wood v. Eubanks, 25 F.4th 414, 425–27 (6th Cir. 2022).

However, a federal district court applying circuit law concluded that officers who arrested a protester for anonymous comments made by others on his livestream after he posted the Chief of Police’s address did not violate clearly established Fourth Amendment law.249Zinter v. Salvaggio, 610 F. Supp. 3d 919, 939–40 (W.D. Tex. 2022) (observing that the speaker had not identified any case law indicating that arrest based on others’ anonymous comments was unlawful). Another district court held that officers did not act recklessly, negligently, or unreasonably in relying on a fellow officer’s determination that probable cause existed to arrest a protester for walking along the public sidewalks displaying “a gigantic Styrofoam middle finger emblazoned with the letters ‘Fuck cops.’ ”250Brandt v. City of Westminster, 300 F.Supp.3d 1259, 1264, 1273 (D. Colo. 2018). A district court also held that officers did not violate clearly established Fourth Amendment law when they arrested a protester for “interference” when he refused to relinquish a camera—something he otherwise had a right to possess under the circumstances—when ordered to do so.251Zinter, 610 F. Supp. 3d at 941.

As these decisions demonstrate, probable cause reasonableness standards make it difficult for courts to develop clearly established law concerning false arrest. As in other areas, egregious mass arrests and other actions not supported by any probable cause have been condemned as violating clearly established Fourth Amendment law. However, precedents show that even arrests closely related to, if not directly based on protected expression, have been the basis for qualified immunity for Fourth Amendment claims. The absence of precedents addressing similar or nearly identical circumstances has prevented courts from recognizing some clear constitutional violations.

In terms of excessive force claims, courts have consistently held that using less-lethal force, such as pepper spray and tear gas, against compliant and peaceful protesters violates clearly established Fourth Amendment law.252See Buck v. City of Albuquerque, 549 F.3d 1269, 1291 (10th Cir. 2008) (concluding that the law was clearly established that the use of force against nonviolent antiwar protestors facing misdemeanor charges, who did not flee or actively resist arrest, was excessive); Fogarty v. Gallegos, 523 F.3d 1147, 1163 (10th Cir. 2008) (concluding that the law was clearly established that the use of pepper balls and tear gas against non-resisting protesters constitutes excessive force under the Fourth Amendment); Headwaters Forest Def. v. Cnty. of Humboldt, 276 F.3d 1125, 1130–31 (9th Cir. 2002) (concluding that the use of pepper spray on a gathering of fewer than ten protesters when they already had control of the crowd and could have used more peaceful methods of maintaining public order violated clearly established law concerning excessive force); Johnson v. City of San Jose, 591 F. Supp. 3d 649, 662–63 (N.D. Cal. 2022) (holding that it was clearly established at the time that a police officer shot a protester with a foam projectile as the protester attempted to leave the scene of the protest that firing a less lethal projectile that risked causing serious harm at an individual who was not an imminent threat to officers in the midst of an allegedly unlawful assembly, resulting in an injury restricting the movement of that individual, amounted to a seizure and an excessive use of force); Laird v. City of St. Louis, 564 F. Supp. 3d 788, 800–01 (E.D. Mo. 2021) (holding it was unreasonable to use pepper spray against a protestor, throw him against the wall, kick and choke him while he was handcuffed, and dragged another protestor across pavement, when the protesters were nonviolent misdemeanants who did not flee or actively resist arrest and posed no threat to the security of the officers or the public); Lamb v. City of Decatur, 947 F. Supp. 1261, 1264–65 (C.D. Ill. 1996) (concluding that pepper spraying peaceful and non-resisting demonstrators violates the Fourth Amendment’s ban on the use of unnecessary force). The same goes for using other types of force when arresting or subduing a compliant protester.253See Zinter, 610 F. Supp. 3d at 955 (holding that Fifth Circuit precedents clearly established that “once a suspect has been handcuffed and subdued, and is no longer resisting, an officer’s subsequent use of force is excessive”) (quoting Carroll v. Ellington, 800 F.3d 154, 177 (5th Cir. 2015)); Jones v. City of St. Louis, 599 F. Supp. 3d 806, 821 (E.D. Mo. 2022) (holding that “[u]nder Eighth Circuit precedent, it was ‘clearly established’ . . . that the ‘gratuitous’ use of force ‘against a suspect who is handcuffed, not resisting, and fully subdued [was] objectively unreasonable under the Fourth Amendment’ ”) (quoting Krout v. Goemmer, 583 F.3d 557, 566 (8th Cir. 2009)). Driving a train into a crowd of peaceful demonstrators may constitute excessive force, although the only decision reaching that conclusion is unpublished.254Willson v. Hubbard, No. 88-15671, 1990 WL 43011, at *2 (9th Cir. Apr. 6, 1990).

However, as was true of some First Amendment claims, excessive force results sometimes hinged on whether the protest was wholly peaceful and non-disruptive. Courts held that the use of less-lethal munitions to disperse violent or unruly protests, tasing protesters in the context of “hostile” protest environments, and even kicking or choking protesters who refused to comply with officers’ commands did not constitute excessive force under the Fourth Amendment.255See Bernini v. City of St. Paul, 665 F.3d 997, 1006 (8th Cir. 2012) (concluding that the use of non-lethal munitions to disperse a violent crowd did not amount to the use of excessive force under the Fourth Amendment); Lash v. Lemke, 786 F.3d 1, 10 (D.C. Cir. 2015) (holding that tasing a protester in the context of a hostile protest environment does not constitute use of excessive force in violation of the Fourth Amendment); Laird, 564 F. Supp. 3d at 800–01 (concluding that it was not clearly established that herding protestors to an intersection where officers deployed pepper spray against one protestor, threw him against the wall, kicked and choked him while he was handcuffed, and dragged another protestor across pavement, or that kettling detainees or applying zip cuffs too tightly rose to the level of excessive force); Poemoceah v. Morton Cnty., No. 20-cv-00053, 2020 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 249116, at *23–24 (D.N.D. Dec. 29, 2020) (concluding that tackling a protester did not violate clearly established Fourth Amendment law); Abdur-Rahim v. City of Columbus, 825 F. App’x. 284, 288 (6th Cir. 2020) (finding that pepper spraying a protester after repeated orders to disperse did not violate a clearly established Fourth Amendment right).

Several district courts also rejected excessive force claims concerning the use of handcuffs or zip ties so tight they caused physical injuries to protesters. In some cases, courts reasoned that under circuit precedent, only force sufficient to break a person’s wrist violated clearly established Fourth Amendment law.256See Robertson v. City of St. Louis, No. 18-CV-01570, 2021 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 186855, at *22 (E.D. Mo. Sept. 29, 2021) (concluding that the use of zip ties to detain arrested protesters did not violate clearly established Fourth Amendment law concerning excessive force because it has not been clearly established that anything less than force that breaks the person’s wrist constitutes excessive force); Thomas v. City of St. Louis, No. 18-CV-01566, 2021 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 193964, at *23 (E.D. Mo. Oct. 7, 2021) (explaining that it is not clearly established that applying zip ties too tightly violates the Fourth Amendment); Zinter v. Salvaggio, 610 F. Supp. 3d 919, 953 (W.D. Tex. 2022) (explaining that in the Fifth Circuit, tight handcuffing that causes acute contusions of the wrist is insufficient to demonstrate excessive force). The handcuffing/zip tie decisions demonstrate how the requirement that plaintiffs identify controlling precedent with the same facts undermines constitutional rights and prevents plaintiffs from being compensated for injuries. Absent a particular circuit court or Supreme Court decision (or perhaps more than one) holding that inflicting pain through bindings short of breaking the person’s wrist violates the Fourth Amendment, a protester plaintiff cannot recover even for serious injuries.

Several decisions in the Qualified Immunity dataset addressed the law as it relates to seizures under the Fourth Amendment. Some courts have held that warrantless seizures of protesters’ signs and other possessions violated the Fourth Amendment.257See Menotti v. City of Seattle, 409 F.3d 1113, 1154 (9th Cir. 2005) (concluding that the seizure of a protester’s sign without an arrest and without exigency offended the Fourth Amendment); Bloem v. Unknown Dep’t of the Interior Emps., 920 F. Supp. 2d 154, 166 (D.D.C. 2013) (concluding that the seizure of expressive materials from a park absent probable cause constitutes a Fourth Amendment violation). By contrast, when officers had probable cause to believe the item was unlawful, or reasonable suspicion it could be dangerous, courts have upheld seizures of items including shofars and firearms.258See Allen v. Cisneros, 815 F.3d 239, 245 (5th Cir. 2016) (concluding that the confiscation of a shofar and signs carried at a protest in violation of law restricting size of items did not violate the plaintiff’s Fourth Amendment rights); Torossian v. Hayo, 45 F. Supp. 2d 63, 68 (D.D.C. 1999) (upholding the confiscation of protest signs and the cursory search of protesters when the counter-demonstration was unlawful); Zinter, 610 F. Supp. 3d at 948 (concluding that the temporary seizure of a protester’s openly carried firearm and recording devices did not violate the Fourth Amendment). The fact that a shofar could “reasonably” be considered dangerous highlights the deference officers enjoy under Fourth Amendment cause and suspicion standards.

District courts applying circuit precedents disagreed concerning whether law enforcement uses of less-lethal weapons such as tear gas, pepper spray, and projectiles constituted “seizures” under the Fourth Amendment.259Compare De Mian v. City of St. Louis, 625 F. Supp. 3d 864, 873 (E.D. Mo. 2022) (explaining that it was not clearly established at the time police officers allegedly deployed pepper spray against a protestor at a protest that deploying pepper spray on a person who was free to leave constituted a seizure for the purposes of an excessive force claim under the Fourth Amendment), Dundon v. Kirchmeier, 577 F. Supp. 3d 1007, 1036–37, 1040 (D.N.D. 2021) (concluding that law enforcement officers’ use of less-lethal force, including water cannons, tear gas, and flash-bang grenades, against protestors of oil pipeline construction did not constitute a Fourth Amendment “seizure” supporting an excessive force claim, even though some protestors were subject to force while moving away from officers, since force was used to disperse protestors, not detain them, officers remained behind a blockade on the north side of a bridge, officers did not march toward protestors in an attempt to detain them, herd them into a certain location in such a way that protestors were unable to get away, or encircle them without a way out, and all protestors were free to leave to the south and disengage law enforcement contact), Brown v. City of St. Louis, No. 18 CV 1676, 2022 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 85588, at *14 (E.D. Mo. May 12, 2022) (concluding that pepper spraying protesters does not constitute a “seizure” under the Fourth Amendment; there is no evidence that the officer detained or arrested the protesters or directed them to stop or stay in place, nor were there any barriers to her leaving the scene), and Molina v. City of St. Louis, No. 17-CV-2498, 2021 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 62677 at *32 (E.D. Mo. Mar. 31, 2021) (concluding that protesters were not seized within the meaning of the Fourth Amendment when they merely felt the effects of tear gas without suffering any corporal impact), with Johnson v. City of San Jose, 591 F. Supp. 3d 649, 659 (N.D. Cal. 2022) (concluding that shooting a protester with a foam projectile as the protester attempted to leave the scene of the protest amounted to a seizure and an excessive use of force), and Jennings v. City of Miami, No. 07-23008-CIV, 2009 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 5430, at *22 (S.D. Fla. Jan. 27, 2009) (noting that the protesters alleged a seizure under the Fourth Amendment from the use of pepper spray, tear gas and other devices and holding it is a violation of the Fourth Amendment to use these methods of “herding” peaceful protesters). Some decisions suggested that the answer turns on whether the protester’s movement was otherwise constrained, which implies that the use of less-lethal munitions by itself does not constitute a “seizure.”260Dundon, 577 F. Supp. 3d at 1034–35. Other courts expressly held that the use of tear gas and other munitions can constitute a “seizure.”261Johnson, 591 F. Supp. 3d at 662–63. At present, there is a lack of consensus or appellate authority on this important issue.262See Shawn E. Fields, Protest Policing and the Fourth Amendment, 55 U.C. Davis L. Rev. 347, 352–58 (2021) (arguing that courts should treat the use of tear gas against protesters as a “seizure”).

Courts have also upheld brief detentions and searches incident to detention during public protests.263See, e.g., Marcavage v. City of Philadelphia, 481 F. App’x. 742, 749–50 (3d Cir. 2012) (holding that police officers’ brief detention of a counter-protester at a gay pride march was reasonable when officers had reasonable articulable suspicion that one of the counter-protester’s group members was involved in a physical altercation with a march participant, the counter-protester approached a group that was with a member and started arguing with officers, the seizure did not last for much more than one minute and the force applied was reasonable, and the detention ended once the situation with the counter-protester, his group, the crowd, and officers was stabilized); Zinter, 610 F. Supp. 3d at 948 (W.D. Tex. 2022) (noting the lack of clearly established law that an officer violates the Fourth Amendment by stopping a potential witness for several minutes and demanding his recording devices). They considered such actions justified as means of maintaining public safety and order. In some decisions, courts again relied on narrow factual distinctions relating to the detentions in determining whether they violated clearly established law. For example, although prior precedents in a circuit had established that a two-hour detention in which the plaintiff was handcuffed and detained in the back of a police cruiser was an unlawful seizure, a district court observed that in the case before it, protesters were not handcuffed, were not placed in the back of police vehicles, and were released after approximately one hour.264Zinter, 610 F. Supp. 3d at 946. Thus, the district court held, circuit precedents did not make clear to “every reasonable official” that detaining witnesses to a crime, without handcuffs and without moving them to a police vehicle, violated the Fourth Amendment.265Id.

Fourth Amendment qualified immunity decisions exhibited some of the same pathologies as First Amendment decisions. While courts condemned some egregious law enforcement practices, they declined to recognize others as violations of clearly established law. Courts relied on narrow factual distinctions and the absence of controlling authority. Together the decisions have resulted in a largely under-developed law of public protest in the Fourth Amendment area.

B.  Municipal Liability – Monell Claims

The Qualified Immunity dataset also collected information about plaintiffs’ claims against municipal defendants. Recall that to successfully hold a municipal defendant liable under section 1983, plaintiffs must demonstrate that the municipality directly violated their constitutional rights by, among other things, adopting and enforcing an unconstitutional “policy or custom.”266Monell v. Dep’t of Soc. Servs., 436 U.S. 658, 690–91 (1978). In order to sue the municipality, plaintiffs must demonstrate that an official has violated their constitutional rights because of the municipal policy or custom.267Id. at 690.

As shown in Figure 9, defendants were not successful at the motion to dismiss stage, as courts granted or upheld only eighteen of seventy-five (24%) dismissal motions. However, once cases reached the summary judgment stage, defendants were remarkably successful: 78% (113 out of 145) of municipal defendants’ motions for summary judgment were granted or upheld on appeal. Thus, although courts were inclined to allow plaintiffs to pursue discovery on Monell claims, they were overwhelmingly rejected at summary judgment.

Figure 9.  Defense Motion Success Rates for Monell Claims

The data show that in most instances, municipal liability was rejected, owing to a lack of evidence of a “policy or custom.” Courts also frequently relied on a lack of underlying constitutional violation and plaintiffs’ failure to identify a policymaking official who acted in a manner that violated their constitutional rights.

Although municipalities represent deep financial pockets and are responsible for making law enforcement and other policies, the data confirm that Monell claims are among the most difficult for plaintiffs to pursue. Defendants’ efforts to defeat these claims were largely successful.

C.  First Amendment Retaliation Claims

As discussed earlier, in Nieves, the Supreme Court adopted a probable cause standard for determining whether plaintiffs could bring a First Amendment retaliation claim.268Nieves v. Bartlett, 587 U.S. 391, 400–01 (2019); see supra notes 103–14 and accompanying text. It also recognized a narrow exception for plaintiffs who could demonstrate they had been subject to unequal treatment. Concurring and dissenting Justices sounded various alarms about the Court’s reliance on probable cause. In general, the Retaliation Claim dataset, which includes all public protest retaliation claims subject to the Nieves standard, supports the dissenters’ objections and concerns.

A significant concern is that law enforcement officers possess broad discretion to charge protesters with even minor public disorder offenses. Under Nieves, an officer who can show a protester’s arrest for disorderly conduct, breach of peace, or other minor crimes is likely to have a complete defense to a First Amendment retaliatory arrest claim. As Justice Gorsuch observed in his partial dissent:

History shows that governments sometimes seek to regulate our lives finely, acutely, thoroughly, and exhaustively. In our own time and place, criminal laws have grown so exuberantly and come to cover so much previously innocent conduct that almost anyone can be arrested for something. If the state could use these laws not for their intended purposes but to silence those who voice unpopular ideas, little would be left of our First Amendment liberties, and little would separate us from the tyrannies of the past or the malignant fiefdoms of our own age. The freedom to speak without risking arrest is ‘one of the principal characteristics by which we distinguish a free nation.’269Nieves, 587 U.S. at 412–13 (Gorsuch, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part) (quoting Houston v. Hill, 482 U.S. 451, 463 (1987)).

Justice Gorsuch noted an additional shortcoming of the majority’s approach. When it folded the free speech claim into the unreasonable arrest inquiry, he asserted, the Court made a category error. As Justice Gorsuch explained, “the First Amendment operates independently of the Fourth and provides different protections. It seeks not to ensure lawful authority to arrest but to protect the freedom of speech.”270Id. at 414. By hanging so much on probable cause to arrest protesters and other speakers, the Court elided important free speech claims and interests.

In her dissent, Justice Sotomayor took aim at the exception to the Nieves rule, which requires protesters to produce “objective evidence that [they were] arrested when otherwise similarly situated individuals not engaged in the same sort of protected speech had not been.”271Id. at 424 (Sotomayor, J., dissenting). She characterized the exception as unclear and irrational and argued it will lead to perverse results. Which protesters, she asked, are “otherwise similarly situated” to the plaintiff, and who is engaged in the “same sort of protected speech”?272Id. Further, under the Court’s approach, protesters who have more direct evidence of retaliatory motive, including officers’ own statements, cannot rely on that evidence, but must instead produce hard-to-come-by comparison-based evidence.273Id. at 425–26.

Justice Sotomayor surmised that plaintiffs who can satisfy the Nieves exception “predominantly will be arrestees singled out at protests or other large public gatherings, where a robust pool of potential comparators happens to be within earshot, eyeshot, or camera-shot.”274Id. at 430. However, she failed to consider that even those plaintiffs would be hard-pressed to gather such evidence in chaotic mass protest environments. Among other complications, during mass protests, ideological and other affiliations can be difficult to discern. Moreover, the exception incentivizes protest policing activities that data show to be already prevalent, including “herding” or “kettling” all participants regardless of specific offense, using tear gas and other force indiscriminately, and engaging in mass arrests. No officer can be accused of singling anyone out if everyone is subject to the same dragnets and other abuses. For a few reasons, there will, as Justice Sotomayor warned, be “little daylight between the comparison-based standard the Court adopts and the absolute bar it ostensibly rejects.”275Id. at 432.

Finally, Justice Sotomayor worried that the majority’s approach would “breed opportunities for the rare ill-intentioned officer to violate the First Amendment without consequence—and, in some cases, openly and unabashedly.”276Id. at 427. For example, “a particularly brazen officer could arrest on transparently speech-based grounds and check the statute books later for a potential justification.”277Id. at 431. She and the other dissenters might also have raised the possibility that racial disparities in protester arrests might affect First Amendment retaliation claims.278See, e.g., Christian Davenport, Sarah A. Soule & David A. Armstrong II, Protesting While Black?: The Differential Policing of American Activism, 1960 to 1990, 76 Am. Socio. Rev. 152, 166 (2011).

The Retaliation Claim dataset confirms many of the dissenters’ objections and concerns. Counting Nieves itself, there have been forty-one federal court decisions that applied the probable cause defense in protest-related cases. In twenty-seven of those decisions, or more than 65%, courts granted defendants’ motions to dismiss or for summary judgment with respect to First Amendment retaliation claims. An “absolute bar” may not have materialized. However, thus far, post-Nieves retaliation claims have not fared well at all in reported decisions. Courts granted or upheld dismissal at the pleading stage 56% of the time (10/18) and granted summary judgment to defendants 74% (17/23) of the time.

Table 3.  Defense Motions in Post-Nieves Retaliation Cases
PostureMotion GrantedMotion DeniedTotal
MTD10 (56%)8 (44%)18
SJ17 (74%)6 (26%)23

The nature of the charges underlying dismissal or summary judgment substantiates Justice Gorsuch’s concern that “criminal laws have grown so exuberantly and come to cover so much previously innocent conduct that almost anyone can be arrested for something.”279Nieves, 587 U.S. at 412 (Gorsuch, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part) (quoting Houston v. Hill, 482 U.S. 451, 463 (1987)). The criminal charges that ultimately defeated First Amendment retaliation claims included disorderly conduct (6), trespass (5), failure to disperse (4), disturbing the peace (3), violation of a curfew order (2), obstructing vehicular or pedestrian traffic (3), obstructing government functions (1), and jaywalking (1). As Justice Gorsuch predicted, probable cause to arrest protesters for even very minor or trivial offenses was enough to defeat the retaliation claims.

What about the exception based on evidence of unequal treatment? Courts addressed the exception on the merits in only 24% (10/41) of cases. In six of those decisions (60%), courts concluded there was insufficient evidence of unequal treatment or that the plaintiff was not “similarly situated” to the comparator class. In three decisions, courts concluded there were sufficient allegations or evidence of disparate treatment to defeat defendants’ motions to dismiss or for summary judgment. In one decision, the court concluded that the plaintiff had produced evidence that “similarly situated” speakers had not been arrested under the narrow exception Nieves recognized.280Id. at 393. In that case, plaintiffs demonstrated that no one had ever been arrested for the offense (chalking public property).281Ballentine v. Las Vegas Metro. Police Dep’t, 480 F. Supp. 3d 1110, 1116 (D. Nev. 2020).

The post-Nieves results suggest courts are engaging in a wooden application of the probable cause standard, rather than a “commonsensical[]” analysis.282Nieves, 587 U.S. at 432 (Sotomayor, J., dissenting). They have generally been willing to accept officers’ claims that arrests for minor offenses were reasonable under the circumstances, a conclusion that in most cases defeated protesters’ First Amendment retaliation claims.

Review of post-Nieves decisions also supports other criticisms. Justice Gorsuch criticized the majority opinion in Nieves for failing to recognize the First Amendment and Fourth Amendment as independent sources of rights.283Id. at 414–15 (Gorsuch, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part). As he predicted, Nieves has encouraged lower courts to focus on the legitimacy of the arrest to the exclusion of free speech, press, and assembly concerns.284See Michael G. Mills, The Death of Retaliatory Arrest Claims: The Supreme Court’s Attempt to Kill Retaliatory Arrest Claims in Nieves v. Bartlett, 105 Cornell L. Rev. 2059, 2083–84 (2020). While courts have been hyper-focused on probable cause to arrest, they have had little to say about the effects of the arrests on collecting petition signatures, public preaching and singing, videorecording protest arrests, and participation in protests involving LGBTQ rights, Occupy Wall Street, the Dakota Access Pipeline, Black Lives Matter, Juneteenth, and the removal of Confederate monuments.

The data do not provide a basis for assessing Justice Sotomayor’s concern about rogue officers suppressing speech. However, post-Nieves decisions have dismissed retaliation claims in which protesters were arrested while singing anti-LGBT songs, confronting public officials at public events, and videotaping protest policing. In these and other cases, there is at least the possibility that officers have targeted or suppressed speech based on its content.

Finally, commentators have warned that Nieves may have negative effects on newsgatherers.285See generally Clayton, supra note 113. Even if reporters have a First Amendment right to record government officials at public demonstrations, the decisions show that probable cause to arrest reporters for some minor offense may effectively negate press rights by allowing officials to target newsgatherers.

Prior to Nieves, the Supreme Court recognized another possible exception to the probable cause requirement. If a municipality adopts an official policy of retaliation against a speaker or group, the Court held, it may be held liable even if there is probable cause to arrest the speaker.286Lozman v. City of Riviera Beach, 585 U.S. 87, 99–101 (2018). Assuming this exception survives Nieves, it applies only in exceptional situations when a governmental body adopts a policy of retaliating against an individual or group for protected expressive activities.287See id. at 100 (alleging “that the City, through its legislators, formed a premeditated plan to intimidate [the plaintiff] in retaliation for his criticisms of city officials and his open-meetings lawsuit”).

The Retaliation Claims dataset suggests plaintiffs are not likely to pursue this type of claim. Only five of the forty-one decisions (12%) addressed such a claim. Three claims were dismissed for failure to allege or provide sufficient evidence of a policy or custom of retaliation or failure to establish an underlying constitutional violation.288See Blake v. Hong, No. 21-CV-0138, 2022 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 70194, at *11–12 (D. Colo. Mar. 30, 2022) (finding insufficient allegations of a “policy or practice” of retaliation); Fenn v. City of Truth or Consequences, 983 F.3d 1143, 1150 (10th Cir. 2020) (finding that a supervisory liability claim failed for lack of an underlying constitutional violation); Packard v. City of New York, No. 15-CV-07130, 2019 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 38791, at *22–23 (S.D.N.Y. Mar. 8, 2019) (finding no evidence of a “policy or custom” of retaliation). One district court concluded that the plaintiff had alleged sufficient facts in the complaint to demonstrate a policy or custom of retaliation or harassment.289Goodwin v. Dist. of Columbia, 579 F. Supp. 3d 159, 170–71 (D.D.C. 2022). Another district court concluded genuine issues of material fact concerning whether a defendant had final policymaking authority precluded summary judgment on the municipal retaliation claim.290Bledsoe v. Ferry Cnty., 499 F. Supp. 3d 856, 879 (E.D. Wash. 2020).

Lower courts have not had much time to adjust to and apply the Nieves standard. However, evidence indicates that concerns about how the probable cause and other aspects of the decision will be applied have already surfaced in early cases.

D.  Claims Against Federal Officials

As discussed, the Supreme Court has never formally recognized a First Amendment claim under Bivens for monetary damages against federal officials.291See supra notes 115–33 and accompanying text. Recent decisions have expressed general skepticism concerning Bivens claims and rejected certain types of claims under the First Amendment and the Fourth Amendment.292Reichle v. Howards, 566 U.S. 658, 663 n.4 (“We have never held that Bivens extends to First Amendment claims.”); Egbert v. Boule, 142 S. Ct. 1793, 1807 (2022) (holding that the plaintiff could not sue federal border patrol agents for First Amendment retaliation or Fourth Amendment excessive force violations). The twenty-six decisions included in the Bivens Claims dataset suggest that while lower courts have long recognized protest-related claims against federal officials, the Supreme Court’s recent decisions have placed such claims in jeopardy.

The data show that lower courts have long recognized protesters’ ability to pursue First Amendment and Fourth Amendment Bivens claims. Courts recognized a cause of action for First Amendment or Fourth Amendment violations against federal defendants under Bivens in 81% (21/26) of protest-related decisions.

However, twelve, or nearly half, of these decisions are from the D.C. Circuit and D.C. district courts. The D.C. Circuit first recognized a First Amendment protest-related Bivens claim in Dellums v. Powell, which was decided in 1977.293Dellums v. Powell, 566 F.2d 167, 195 (D.C. Cir. 1977). The District of Columbia is the site of iconic protest venues, including the grounds near the U.S. Capitol and Lafayette Park near the White House. National Park Service, U.S. Marshals officials, U.S. Capitol Police, Secret Service, and other federal officials are involved in policing and managing mass and other protest events in the District.

In addition to the D.C. Circuit, the Third, Fourth, Eighth, Ninth, and Tenth Circuits have also recognized First Amendment and Fourth Amendment Bivens claims in protest-related cases.294See Marcavage v. Nat’l Park Serv., 666 F.3d 856, 858 (3d Cir. 2012); Tobey v. Jones, 706 F.3d 379, 386 (4th Cir. 2013); Galvin v. Hay, 374 F.3d 739, 757 (9th Cir. 2004); Pahls v. Thomas, 718 F.3d 1210, 1225–26 (10th Cir. 2013). Constitutional claims in these cases have run the gamut from violation of protesters’ right to speak and assemble in a public forum under the First Amendment to allegations of excessive force, false arrest, and unreasonable seizure under the Fourth Amendment. One might assume decisions recognizing these Bivens claims long predated the Court’s recent turn against expanding Bivens. However, ten out of fifteen lower court decisions (67%) recognizing such claims or assuming they are viable were decided during the last decade, when the Court was expressing increasing skepticism about them.

There is some evidence that the Court’s Bivens negativity is starting to affect lower court decisions in protest cases. In the four most recent decisions, including one by the D.C. Circuit regarding the clearing of Lafayette Park during the 2020 Black Lives Matter protests, courts expressly rejected protesters’ First Amendment and Fourth Amendment Bivens claims.295See Clark v. Wolf, No. 20-CV-01436, 2022 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 20027, at *20 (D. Or. Feb. 3, 2022) (Fourth Amendment claim); Kristiansen v. Russell, No. 21-CV-00546, 2022 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 99459, at *3 (D. Or. June 2, 2022) (Fourth Amendment claim); Ferguson v. Owen, No. 21-02512, 2022 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 120281, at *33 (D.D.C. July 8, 2022) (First Amendment claim); Black Lives Matter D.C. v. Trump, 544 F. Supp. 3d 15, 34 (D.D.C. 2021) (First Amendment and Fourth Amendment claims), aff’d sub nom Buchanan v. Barr, 71 F.4th 1003 (D.C. Cir. 2023). The courts emphasized the Supreme Court’s admonition not to expand Bivens into “new” contexts and to apply a “special factors” analysis to prevent expansion of Bivens claims. Applying those standards, only one recent federal district court decision has upheld a protest-related Fourth Amendment claim and none have recognized a First Amendment claim.296Applying the Supreme Court’s recently adopted standards, one district court recognized a Fourth Amendment Bivens claim brought by protesters. See Graber v. Dales, No. 18-3168, 2019 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 169594, at *4–6 (E.D. Pa. Sept. 30, 2019).

The loss of a Bivens remedy would leave protesters without full recourse against federal officials who violate their First Amendment or Fourth Amendment rights. Officials with the National Park Service, Secret Service, and other federal agencies would be immunized from damages claims. As the 2020 racial justice protests demonstrated, holding federal officials liable for protest policing that violates individuals’ constitutional rights remains critically important.

IV.  STRENGTHENING PROTESTER RIGHTS AND REMEDIES

This study confirms that protesters face steep obstacles in terms of holding government officials accountable for constitutional injuries. If protesters cannot be made whole in the event of serious injuries, they may be deterred from organizing and participating in public demonstrations. Thus, what is at stake is not just the important compensation owed to injured protesters but also broader injuries to our culture of public dissent. This final Part offers five proposals to strengthen protesters’ rights and remedies.297The proposals focus on federal laws and institutions. However, states and localities can also take steps to strengthen civil rights claims. See Emma Tucker, States Tackling ‘Qualified Immunity’ for Police as Congress Squabbles Over the Issue, CNN (Apr. 23, 2021, 7:45 AM), https://www.cnn.com/2021/04/23/politics/qualified-immunity-police-reform/index.html [https://perma.cc/WP46-YTCZ]; Jeffery C. Mays & Ashley Southall, It May Soon Be Easier to Sue the N.Y.P.D. for Misconduct, N.Y. Times (Mar. 25, 2021), https://www.nytimes.com/2021/03/25/nyregion/nyc-qualified-immunity-police-reform.html [https://web.archive.org/web/20220305142403/https://www.nytimes.com/2021/03/25/nyregion/nyc-qualified-immunity-police-reform.html].

First, as other scholars have advocated, qualified immunity should be abandoned or reformed.298See, e.g., Schwartz, supra note 24; see also sources cited supra note 79. This study confirms that courts are disposing of a significant percentage (approximately 60% at summary judgment) of protesters’ First Amendment and Fourth Amendment claims based on qualified immunity. The data also show that qualified immunity shields officials from liability in all but the most egregious cases (and even in some egregious cases), is based on an impossibly narrow standard of controlling authority and reduces opportunities for courts to innovate and develop substantive law. The Court or Congress should abolish qualified immunity or reform it by, for example, changing the liability standard or doing away with the “clearly established law” requirement.299See Schwartz, supra note 24, at 1833–35 (proposing various qualified immunity reforms). Protesters and others would then be better able to recover for patently unconstitutional content-based regulations, abusive uses of force, invalid arrests, and other unconstitutional behavior.

Second, also in the realm of qualified immunity reform, the Supreme Court or Congress should revisit Nieves v. Bartlett. This study shows that First Amendment retaliation claims are frequently pursued in protest cases. Early lower court applications of Nieves’s probable cause rule confirm the objections raised by Justices Gorsuch and Sotomayor. The Supreme Court should at least clarify that probable cause is not an absolute bar to retaliation claims. Some commentators have also urged Congress to overturn Nieves.300See Clayton, supra note 113, at 2315; Mills, supra note 284, at 2063. If neither institution is willing to act, civil rights lawyers will need to focus on collecting the necessary evidence of disparate treatment to defeat the probable cause bar. As Justice Sotomayor has urged, lower courts can also adopt a “commonsensical[]” interpretation of the standard.301Nieves v. Bartlett, 587 U.S. 391, 431 (2019) (Sotomayor, J., dissenting).

Third, as this study confirms, courts need to strengthen constitutional protections under the First Amendment and Fourth Amendment. The lack of strong First Amendment and Fourth Amendment rights reduces and undermines protesters’ constitutional protections. Applications of qualified immunity doctrine show that First Amendment doctrines allow officials to exclude protesters from public properties, enforce restrictive speech zones, and significantly displace demonstrations. Joanna Schwartz has criticized substantive Fourth Amendment law, specifically the “reasonableness” standard that allows officers to “stop, arrest, beat, shoot, or kill people who have done nothing wrong without violating their constitutional rights.”302Schwartz, supra note 9, at 52. Similarly, she argues, the Court’s “excessive force” doctrine has “left officers with few limits on their power.”303Id. The First Amendment and Fourth Amendment doctrines addressed in this study are longstanding. However, the Supreme Court should more clearly establish the limits they place on government officials when they regulate protest activity and lower courts should apply these limits in ways that better protect the rights of protesters.

Fourth, and relatedly, courts must publish more decisions elaborating on applications of First Amendment and Fourth Amendment rights. Figure 10 shows the number of published qualified immunity protest-related decisions over time available on Westlaw. The Qualified Immunity dataset covers four decades but includes only eighty-six published federal appellate court decisions. To be sure, there are likely more such decisions; but if they are not accessible, they cannot be used to analyze qualified immunity. If published appellate decisions are to be the primary sources of clearly established law, it is obvious that litigants and courts need significantly more guidance. The uptick in published decisions during the last five years is encouraging, even if it may partially be related to the 2020–2021 mass street protests. More published decisions should produce more clearly established limits on protest policing and other activities. The Supreme Court could also take steps such as loosening the requirement of controlling circuit precedent and allowing courts to consult other decisions or to rely on general principles, rather than requiring plaintiffs to identify in-circuit cases involving the same or similar factual circumstances.

Figure 10.  Published Qualified Immunity Protest Decisions over Time

Fifth, and finally, governmental immunity doctrines must allow injured plaintiffs to hold all parties that cause injuries accountable. This means reducing or repealing municipal immunities and allowing injured protesters to sue federal officials under Bivens for First Amendment and Fourth Amendment violations. In my study, although plaintiffs frequently sued municipalities, nearly 80% of their Monell claims failed at summary judgment.304See discussion supra Section III.B. As Joanna Schwartz has argued, “[o]ne way to make sure that people are paid what they are owed is to do away with Monell standards and hold cities legally responsible for the constitutional violations of their officers—just as private companies are held vicariously liable for the acts of their employees.”305Schwartz, supra note 9, at 230. Some have urged plaintiffs to pursue “failure to supervise” claims, which have been recognized in some federal appellate court decisions. See Nancy Leong, Municipal Failures, 108 Cornell L. Rev. 345, 371–72 (2023). However, the liability standard for these claims, “deliberate indifference,” is difficult to meet. Connick v. Thompson, 563 U.S. 51, 61 (2011) (quoting Bd. of the Cnty. Comm’rs v. Brown, 520 U.S. 397, 410 (1997)). In the Qualified Immunity dataset, protester plaintiffs brought seventy-five “failure to train” claims, which are subject to the same standard. Municipal defendants successfully moved to dismiss fifty-two of those claims, or 75%. Protester plaintiffs must also have the opportunity to hold Secret Service, National Park Service, and employees of other federal agencies accountable. Lower courts have traditionally perceived no impediment to recognizing and adjudicating such claims.306See, e.g., Dellums v. Powell, 566 F.2d 167, 194–95 (1977) (recognizing a Bivens action in the context of a protest at the U.S. Capitol). As some recent decisions demonstrate, the Supreme Court’s negativity regarding Bivens threatens to undermine the fundamental right to express political dissent.307See, e.g., Black Lives Matter D.C. v. Trump, 544 F. Supp. 3d 15, 31–32 (D.D.C. 2021) (rejecting a Bivens claim brought by racial justice protesters). Although the Supreme Court has not expressly rejected protest-related First Amendment claims against federal officials, it has crept ever closer to doing so. As the Court itself has urged, Congress should codify Bivens by creating civil damages claims against federal officials who violate First Amendment, Fourth Amendment, and other constitutional rights.

CONCLUSION

Governmental immunities have had a profoundly negative effect on public protesters’ ability to obtain compensation for constitutional harms. This study’s quantitative analysis shows defendants’ significant success using qualified immunity to defeat a variety of First Amendment and Fourth Amendment claims. Its qualitative analysis illustrates how application of qualified immunity and other doctrines have defeated protesters’ claims, even when defendants have engaged in egregious constitutional violations.

The study lends additional support to general criticisms of qualified immunity and related doctrines. More broadly, it shows that failure to reform or abolish governmental immunities will affect the right to protest peacefully, safely, and with high confidence that officials who regulate and police protests will respect constitutional rights.

This Article offers several proposals for strengthening protesters’ remedies or at least limiting obstacles to monetary recovery. These include judicial or legislative repeal of qualified immunity, developing stronger substantive First Amendment and Fourth Amendment protections, abandoning municipal liability restrictions, and retaining civil liability for federal officials. Without serious reform, in most cases protesters will continue to be un- or under-compensated, public officials will continue to escape liability, and traditionally valued public protest activity will be encumbered and chilled.

97 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1583

Download

* John Marshall Professor of Government and Citizenship, William & Mary Law School. I would like to thank Paul Hellyer for his outstanding assistance with the study design and the research supporting this Article. Special thanks also to Rebecca Roberts for her help updating the study databases. Any errors are, of course, my own.

The Discriminatory Religion Clauses

The Supreme Court’s decision in Carson v. Makin is the third in a trilogy of cases dramatically upending the meaning of the First Amendment’s Religion Clauses. Beginning with Trinity Lutheran v. Comer in 2017 and followed by Espinoza v. Montana Department of Revenue in 2020, the Court has moved forward with an aggressive project of transforming the Religion Clauses into a broad anti-religious-discrimination clause. In this paper, I trace this doctrinal devolution and argue that the Court’s novel reinterpretation is deeply misguided. By design, the Religion Clauses require discrimination—religion is to be treated differently from non-religion in a broad range of state action. The contemporary Supreme Court, however, has inverted this most basic insight. The Court’s new Religion Clause jurisprudence is also on a collision course with its burgeoning government speech doctrine. This doctrine recognizes that in a democratic polity, every policy choice entails paths not chosen. Government must be able to select its own message, and in turn, discriminate against those messages it wishes not to communicate, tempered by accountability at the ballot box. Granted, to say that discrimination is sometimes required under the Religion Clauses and the Government Speech Doctrine is not to say discrimination against religion is always constitutional. Protections against objectionable discrimination remain as vital as ever. The Court’s public forum doctrine, for example, protects free expression of religion from content-based discrimination when the government itself is not speaking. The heart of the Court’s recent Religion Clause decisions, however, is a jurisprudentially backward constitutional mandate that government actively subsidize religious speech to avoid a Religion Clause “discrimination” claim. It is a command that government express ideas it may not wish to express. The Court’s reimagining of the Religion Clauses is inconsistent with the First Amendment’s original meaning, potentially harmful to both government and religion, and in direct tension with the Government Speech Doctrine.

 

What a difference five years makes. In 2017, I feared that the Court was “lead[ing] us . . . to a place where separation of church and state is a constitutional slogan, not a constitutional commitment.” Today, the Court leads us to a place where separation of church and state becomes a constitutional violation.

—Justice Sonia Sotomayor1Carson v. Makin, 142 S. Ct. 1987, 2014 (2022) (Sotomayor, J., dissenting).

INTRODUCTION

The Religion Clauses of the First Amendment require discrimination. Such an assertion may appear counterintuitive in an era prone to viewing subjects of controversy through a lens of equality, but by their very terms the Free Exercise Clause and the Establishment Clause demand that religion be treated differently from other objects of government attention. Today, however, the Supreme Court tells us a different story. Despite the clear language in the Constitution, the Court’s most recent jurisprudence suggests that the religion clauses do something very different than what the words chosen by their framers would suggest.

Beginning in 2017, the Court moved forward with an aggressive project of transforming the Religion Clauses into a broad anti-religious discrimination clause. In this paper, I trace this doctrinal misadventure and argue that the Court’s novel reinterpretation is deeply misguided. This approach, I contend, is precisely backwards. The Religion Clauses are not the Equal Protection Clause. The Court’s conflation of the Religion Clauses with anti-discrimination principles directly contravenes the design and intended function of this critical part of the First Amendment. It is also antithetical to a core principle of popular sovereignty: that a state—and hence, the people—must be able to choose its own priorities and be held accountable for the choices it makes, a key premise underlying the Court’s government speech doctrine.

There are many reasons to find fault in Constitutional doctrine. But whether it is substantive due process and the meaning of the word “liberty” in the Fourteenth Amendment or the right to keep and bear arms in the Second Amendment, such critiques typically boil down to this: the Court is either reading too far into the language of the Constitution or not far enough. It is either finding more meaning then is there, or too little. With the Court’s most recent turn in its religion clause jurisprudence something very different has occurred. Instead of going too far or not far enough, the Court has effectively inverted the very purpose of the Religion Clauses. These clauses, as designed by framers with an understanding of the weighty historical role religion has played in society and governance, carve out religion for a uniquely nuanced, one-of-a-kind treatment. Religion is special. It receives an unusual and distinctive protection from government intervention and is subjected to unusual and distinctive limitations on government support. In between these two constitutional poles established by the Religion Clauses, governments have discretion to make religion-related policy choices. But the unique Janus-faced design of the Religion Clauses sends a clear message: the Constitution requires that religion be treated differently.

Up until 2017, critics of the Court’s religion clause jurisprudence generally fell into the standard camps. They argued, for example, that the Court was restricting too much government activity that “respect[s] an establishment of religion,” as Justice Stewart did in his dissent in Engel v. Vitale addressing a nondenominational school prayer.2Engel v. Vitale, 370 U.S. 421, 444–50 (1962) (Stewart, J., dissenting). Such an exercise, to Stewart, simply did not rise to the level of establishing an “official religion.”3Id. at 450 (Stewart, J., dissenting). Other critics have argued that the Court was not capacious enough in defining what it means to “prohibit” the free exercise of religion, such as Justice Brennan’s dissent in Braunfeld v. Brown, in which he asserted that making a religious practice “economically disadvantageous” should be a sufficient free exercise claim.4Braunfeld v. Brown, 366 U.S. 599, 616 (1961). These cases turned on the unique status of religion––and the extent to which government was treating it differently, as required by the Constitution. And in some contemporary cases, it is still taking this approach, moving the needle much more aggressively than in the past, siding with critics who have supported expansive, and distinctive “free exercise” protection.5See Kennedy v. Bremerton Sch. Dist. 142 S. Ct. 2407 (2022). But as of 2017, the Court also started asking an entirely different, and contradictory question. Inexplicably, differential treatment of religion went from a Constitutional mandate to a Constitutional infraction. 

The first sixteen words of the U.S. Constitution’s First Amendment are straight forward: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof . . . .”6U.S. Const. amend. I. The constitutional historian Leonard Levy has asserted that “Nowhere in the making of the Bill of Rights was the original intent and meaning clearer than in the case of religious freedom.”7Leonard W. Levy, The Establishment Clause: Religion and the First Amendment xv (1986). On its face this language prohibits the federal government from making or enforcing laws that do either of two independent things: respect an establishment of religion or prohibit the free exercise of religion. For over three-quarters of a century, this language has been understood to have been incorporated by the Fourteenth Amendment, and thus to apply with equal vigor to the states as to the federal government.8See Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U.S. 296 (1940).

In addition to defining precisely what is included in the category of laws “respecting an establishment of religion” or “prohibiting the free exercise,”9Philip B. Kurland, The Origins of the Religion Clauses of the Constitution, 27 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 839, 856 (1986) (quoting U.S. Const. amend. I, cl. 1). the key interpretive challenge of these two clauses has been their inherent tension. In devising the unique structure of the religion clauses (or, we might say religion clause, singular, to emphasize the interdependence of the anti-establishment and free exercise principles) the framers left behind a distinctive jurisprudential task for courts, incomparable to any other part of the Constitution. What is required or implicitly encouraged by one clause might appear to be prohibited by the other––and in between there may be a zone—what the Court has long referred to as a “play in the joints”10Walz v. Tax Comm’n, 397 U.S. 664, 669 (1970).—where a government may, but is not required, to advance the interests of free exercise or anti-establishment without being prohibited from doing so by the countervailing clause.

The precise contours of the religion clauses continue to be worked out. The drafting history of the religion clauses—particularly, the meaning the framers intended to give to an “establishment of religion”—leaves us with gaping holes in our understanding.11Levy, supra note 7, at 84. One notable area of disagreement in the late twentieth century, for example, has been the debate among jurists and scholars as to whether establishment demands so-called strict separation between church and state or mere nonpreferentialism, that is, not preferring one sect or religion over another.12David Reiss, Jefferson and Madison as Icons in Judicial History: A Study of Religion Clause Jurisprudence, 61 Md. L. Rev. 94, 126 (2002). Various justices on the Supreme Court have long presented differing framings of history in their Religion Clause jurisprudence, confirming that the historical “record does not speak in one voice.”13Id. at 144. But regardless of where one falls in these debates, and however “religion” may be defined, one thing seemingly remained a constant: the religion clauses of the First Amendment single out a thing called “religion” for disparate treatment. While the debate was not definitively settled over precisely where the lines of impermissible establishment or prohibition on free exercise should be drawn, what was clear was that the Constitution established unique lines for religion, prohibiting both governmental favoritism as well as active suppression.

This idiosyncratic Constitutional status of religion vis-à-vis government, which may be seen as a form of mandatory discrimination, is grounded in a set of founding-era philosophical beliefs about the need to protect religion from government and government from religion. As Thomas Jefferson wrote in an 1802 letter to the Danbury Baptist Association, the First Amendment “buil[t] a wall of separation between Church & State.”14Thomas Jefferson’s Letter to the Danbury Baptists (Jan. 1, 1802), https://www.
loc.gov/loc/lcib/9806/danpre.html [https://perma.cc/2D4H-5ZGJ].
And while some scholars have disputed the significance of Jefferson’s famed “wall of separation” metaphor, in 1947 the Supreme Court affirmed Jefferson’s reading in forceful terms. It did not merely agree that “[t]he First Amendment has erected a wall between church and state,” 15Everson v. Bd. of Educ., 330 U.S. 1, 18 (1947). it emphasized that the “wall must be kept high and impregnable.”16Id.

 In 2022 however, the Court issued an opinion that was nothing short of radical. For the Religion Clauses, it was a world turned upside-down. This is not to say that changes had not been on the horizon. Before the recent seismic leap, the Court’s religion jurisprudence had been on a steady retreat from the Jeffersonian vision, particularly as we passed into the new millennium. But Carson v. Makin, capping off a trio of cases that began in 2017, was of a different magnitude.

 Thomas Jefferson’s “wall of separation” between church and state has gone from a route impeded by a barrier “high and impregnable” twenty-five years ago, to one riddled with easily breached fissures shortly thereafter, to an obstruction not merely demolished but replaced and paved over by a wide road—with a shuttle bus travelers are compelled to ride and a fare they are compelled to pay. In Carson the Court did not merely backtrack from its longstanding prohibition on the expenditure of government funds on sectarian schooling; it held, for the first time, that the Free Exercise Clause prohibits a state from not using taxpayer money to fund religious education.17Carson v. Makin, 142 S. Ct. 1987, 2010 (2022). A government, in other words, may be constitutionally obligated to do, what for most of the Court’s jurisprudential history addressing the religion clauses it had been forbidden from doing: paying for religious education.

This was so despite the glaring objection that such funding directly conflicts with a straight-forward, textual reading of the Constitution’s prohibition of any law “respecting an establishment of religion.”18U.S. Const. amend. I. Government may be required to utilize taxpayer funds to pay for religious education in spite of the strong belief of the First Amendment’s framers “that no person, either believer or non-believer, should be taxed to support a religious institution of any kind.”19Everson, 330 U.S. at 12. Government may be compelled to provide an affirmative benefit to religion, despite an absence of evidence that it is in fact “prohibiting” a religion’s free exercise. Indeed, a state may be required to pay for religious education even in the face of its own strong policy reasons for not doing so. How did this happen? And what is the constitutional basis for this revolutionary reformulation?

Carson v. Makin and the two cases leading up to its holding transformed the Free Exercise Clause into an anti-religious-discrimination clause. The Religion Clauses however, were designed to produce the very opposite result, to ensure that religion was treated differently. Religion receives special treatment in the Constitution, precisely because the framers appreciated its unique power. Religion has the ability to inspire, to shape humankind’s deepest and most intimate sense of meaning and well-being, to establish and frame social obligations that supersede or conflict with civic commitments, and to ignite wars, social instability, and bloodshed. In the words of Roger Williams, the theologian and founder of Rhode Island whose religious advocacy for separating church and state left an indelible imprint during America’s colonial era, “[t]he blood of so many hundred thousand souls of Protestants and papists, spilled in the wars of present and former ages for their respective consciences, is not required nor accepted by Jesus Christ the Prince of Peace.”20Mark A. Graber, Foreword: Our Paradoxical Religion Clauses, 69 Md. L. Rev. 8, 9 (2009) (quoting Roger Williams, The Bloudy Tenent of Persecution for Cause of Conscience 1 (Edward Bean Underhill ed., The Society 1848) (1644)).

While a vast sphere of human activity is open to government control, establishing an array of rules determining, for example, the boundaries of criminal and civil conduct, Williams emphasized that religion is different. “God requires not a uniformity of religion to be enacted and enforced in any civil state; which enforced uniformity, sooner or later, is the greatest occasion of civil war, ravishing of conscience . . . .”21Id. at 10. According to historian Leonard Levy, James Madison believed that state “[e]stablishments produced bigotry and persecution, defiled religion, corrupted government, and ended in spiritual and political tyranny.”22Levy, supra note 7, at 55. It was clear that religion, in short, must receive special treatment in its relation to the state.

Carson, however, tells us that this is all wrong. Religion is instead to be treated the same as other human endeavors—at least, for certain purposes. Instead of standing as a mandate for distinctive treatment of religion, the newly reconfigured twenty-first century Religion Clauses, prohibit distinctive treatment. How did the Court justify such a profound—and some might say bizarre—reversal? One explanation is that the Court was drawing on the post-Civil War legacy of the Fourteenth Amendment and modern-America’s strong ethic of opposing inequality and discrimination in its many forms.

Perhaps some justices were also responding to an underlying feeling that religious adherents are looked down upon by societal elites and had not been invited onto the equality train with the same gusto as other identity groups; perhaps this jurisprudential turn was their chance at a ticket. Justice Scalia made such feelings clear in a 2004 dissent when he complained that

[o]ne need not delve too far into modern popular culture to perceive a trendy disdain for deep religious conviction. In an era when the Court is so quick to come to the aid of other disfavored groups, . . . its indifference [to those who dedicate their lives to the ministry], which involves a form of discrimination to which the Constitution actually speaks, is exceptional.23Locke v. Davey, 540 U.S. 712, 733 (2004) (Scalia, J., dissenting).

 An aggrieved Justice Thomas, in his recent Espinoza concurrence, points the finger directly at other justices, lamenting that “this Court has an unfortunate tendency to prefer certain constitutional rights over others . . . The Free Exercise Clause . . . rests on the lowest rung . . . .”24Espinoza v. Mont. Dep’t of Revenue, 140 S. Ct. 2246, 2267 (2020) (Thomas, J., concurring).

It is possible that the Court is taking its cues from grievances such as these. But whatever the motive, the Court had decided, without acknowledging that it was doing so, to completely reimagine the Religion Clauses. In the Carson trio the First Amendment’s religion clauses are framed, not as they have been traditionally construed, as granting religion a unique constitutional status, but as a demand that religion effectively be placed on the same plane as everything else. Granted, this insistence on anti-religious discrimination is not evenly applied. As we shall discuss further, its flattening of the religion clauses is selective. In other contexts, the Court—in the very same term it decided Carson—concluded that a state employee, while acting within his official duties, has special rights of religious expression and practice that he would not possess outside of the religious sphere.25See Kennedy v. Bremerton Sch. Dist. 142 S. Ct. 2407 (2022).

I.  WHY DISCRIMINATION?

Although it may not be commonly acknowledged, government is in the discrimination business. It discriminates every time it “establish[es] Justice, insure[s] domestic Tranquility, provide[s] for the common defence, promote[s] the general Welfare, and secure[s] the Blessings of Liberty.”26U.S. Const. pmbl. All of these ends, eloquently laid out by the founding fathers in the Preamble of the U.S. Constitution, necessarily require America’s government of “we the people” to make choices. There are many routes to realizing, maintaining, and even defining domestic tranquility, the general welfare, and core liberties. And for every policy choice, there are paths not chosen. In a world of scarce resources and fierce disputes over how to allocate those resources to best achieve societal goals, government must not merely decide how much to allocate to particular goals, but which goals are worthy of its energies in the first place.

In a functional and sustainable democracy, this process of discrimination ideally keeps a polity on a trajectory of responsiveness and improvement. Government discrimination allows the state to make discerning choices that take into account an array of complex interests and counter-interests. It allows for action rather than paralysis in light of the needs and pressures coming from a multitude of directions, the often overwhelming and conflicting demands that are part and parcel of having to accommodate a large, diverse, and pluralistic population. Government discrimination in a working democracy means that hard choices will be made; costs will be weighed against benefits. But ultimately, if democracy is functioning in its ideal form, these choices will generally reflect societal values, interests, and goals, while helping correct for the errors of the past as they become evident.

Being “discriminating” thus may be associated with thoughtful, careful, decision-making. And indeed, the Constitution itself not only invites relatively open-ended policy-based discrimination rooted in democratic deliberation, but the document in many places calls for particular kinds of discrimination. It tells us in Article II that we must discriminate against those who are not “natural born” when choosing a president.27U.S. Const. art. II, § 1. While the federal government has the power to “lay and collect Taxes,”28U.S. Const. art. I, § 8, cl. 1. certain kinds of taxes are explicitly verboten (or “discriminated against”) such as tariffs “laid on Articles exported from any State.”29U.S. Const. art. I, § 9, cl. 5. A similar form of discrimination characterizes the Religion Clauses of the First Amendment; religion is explicitly designated as a subject of government regulation to be treated differently from non-religion in a broad range of state action.

Granted, this was not the case under the initial conception devised at the 1787 Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia. The framers’ original notion was one in which the federal government was to be inherently limited to powers enumerated in Article I. Since regulation or establishment of religion was not explicitly included among these powers, a discriminatory carve-out for religion was thought to be superfluous. A bill of rights, including such special treatment for religion, was initially deemed unnecessary because as Madison explained, “[t]here is not a shadow of right in the general government to intermeddle with religion.”303 Jonathan Elliot, The Debates in the Several State Conventions on the Adoption of the Federal Constitution 330 (2d ed. 1836). Other founding era notables however, remained skeptical. Many states conditioned their support of the new charter on a pledge to make the implicit, explicit.31 Steven D. Smith, The Religion Clauses in Constitutional Scholarship, 74 Notre Dame L. Rev. 1033, 1038 (1999). Madison was ultimately persuaded of the merits of this alternative view held by many Anti-Federalists. He became concerned that

under the clause of the constitution, which gave power to congress to make all laws necessary and proper to carry into execution the constitution, and the laws made under it, [congress may be] enabled . . . to make laws of such a nature as might infringe the rights of conscience, or establish a national religion . . . .32Id. at 1039 (quoting James Madison).

Madison realized that even under a regime of limited government in which federal powers are circumscribed by their enumeration in Article I, the government may use its lawful powers in ways yet unanticipated––and that this exertion of power may bleed into religious establishment or the freedom of individual exercise. Because the constitutional structure that limited government power could not be relied upon as the sole guarantor that church and state would be confined to separate spheres, as with other discrete topics, insurance in the form of the Bill of Rights was deemed expedient. And with religion, the remedy was especially distinctive. The two clauses of the First Amendment do not merely single out religion, but do so in an unusual Janus-faced manner suited to the sui generous dilemma that plagued the history of church-state relations. As Justice Robert Jackson explained, “the Constitution sets up [a difference] between religion and almost every other subject matter of legislation, a difference which goes to the very root of religious freedom . . . .”33Everson v. Bd. of Educ., 330 U.S. 1, 26 (1947) (Jackson, J., dissenting).

Religion-related practices receive special discriminatory free exercise benefits exempting them from targeted restrictive governmental regulation that in non-religious spheres would constitute an ordinary part of democratic governance. A wide array of behaviors are targeted by government for distinctive kinds of punishment, prohibition, or penalty, but actions that relate to religion—unlike these other realms of behavior—may not be targeted. They receive a free pass from the Free Exercise Clause of the First Amendment. At the same time that government is generally free to choose to partner with, endorse or incorporate a diverse range of philosophical worldviews, values, or private institutions into its operations, religion may not be among them. Religion is uniquely burdened by the Establishment Clause’s distinctive prohibition on intermingling religion and government.

The two religion clauses simultaneously work together and are at odds with one another. On one hand, they may be said to serve similar ends. “An establishment, Madison argued, ‘violated the free exercise of religion’ and would ‘subvert public liberty.’ ”34Levy, supra note 7, at 168. On the other, they appear in direct tension, one seeming to facilitate religious practice by specially prohibiting government interference and the other seeming to discourage religious practice by specially withholding government largess. The clauses both demand unique benefits for, and impose distinctive burdens on, religion––and sometimes these simultaneous constitutional commands overlap, producing puzzling and uncertain results. It is this apparent paradox that set the stage for a peculiar species of constitutional doctrine, an anomalous and sensitive area of jurisprudence with one common baseline: religion must be treated differently.

II.  DEFINING DISCRIMINATION

The Britannica Dictionary defines “discriminating” as “able to recognize the difference between things that are of good quality and those that are not.”35Discriminating, Britannica Dictionary, https://www.britannica.com/dictionary/

discriminating [https://perma.cc/5UN5-LKX3].
However, discrimination is a word with more than one definition. Discrimination may simply describe the act of “recogniz[ing] a difference between things.”36Discriminate, Britannica Dictionary, https://www.britannica.com/dictionary/discriminate [https://perma.cc/46AX-56WV]. Today, the word “discrimination” is commonly understood as a pejorative. A country founded on egalitarian ideals, with a shamefully inegalitarian past and a present in which identity politics are paramount, has given the word “discrimination” toxic properties. This contemporary understanding aligns with another definition, courtesy of Oxford: to “discriminate” is “to treat one person or group worse/better than another in an unfair way.”37Discriminate, Oxford Learner’s Dictionary, https://www.oxfordlearnersdictionaries.
com/us/definition/english/discriminate [https://perma.cc/PBJ3-LR48].

The First Amendment demands that government treat religion in ways that are arguably both “worse” and “better” than the treatment of other subjects garnering the government’s attention. However, such differential treatment is arguably the epitome of “fairness,” that is if one believes applying clearly stated rules of the U.S. Constitution with principled consistency may generally be understood to be a paradigmatic example of “fairness.” Thus, this latter––pejorative––definition is inapposite to the religion clauses. Yet, merely attaching the word “discrimination” to any government action—whether it be in a political speech, a New York Times op-ed, a Fox News commentary, or a Supreme Court opinion—casts reflexive doubt on that act’s legitimacy. Thus, the irony: use of the phrase “government discrimination against religion”—a constitutional mandate serving the interests of both government and religion—will likely strike the average listener as a nefarious wrong.

There are of course many forms of discrimination that are rightfully prohibited by the Fourteenth Amendment, such as invidious differential treatment based on an individual’s race, gender, or sexual orientation. Other forms of identity-based discrimination, including discrimination rooted in religious animus, may be precluded by statutory anti-discrimination laws. However, the existence of unfair or unjust forms of discrimination—that in some cases are forbidden by the Constitution—should not be used to create the misleading impression that the vital government discrimination required by aspects of the First Amendment is in fact an inherent evil that must be stamped out. Acknowledging that parts of the Constitution require or permit some forms of discrimination does not detract from the continued need (or ability under the law) to combat bigotry.

Granted, in certain contexts, evidence that a government is “discriminating” against or in favor of a particular religion may expose a potential Religion Clause violation. But this is not because the clauses contain a general anti-discrimination principle comparable to the Equal Protection Clause or statutory anti-discrimination law, rather, it is because they demand religion be treated differently from other objects of governmental attention.38See, e.g., Est. of Thornton v. Caldor, 472 U.S. 703 (1985). With other government action, the default is that a democratic state generally must be able to make discriminating distinctions in its policy and enforcement choices.

Discrimination is a baseline for an effective governance. It is the stuff of democratic and legal contestation. Thus, for purposes of this article, I will generally use discrimination in its non-pejorative form—as a mere act of recognizing distinctions between different classes of things resulting in some form of differential treatment. Yes, “discrimination” can be unjust or unfair. “Anti-discrimination” laws and the scrutiny courts apply to invidious discrimination under the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment have long been directed at such unjust forms of discrimination. However, discrimination can also suggest a kind of discernment that is more typically lauded—such as the ability to distinguish a Matisse or a rigorous scientific study at a top research university from the work produced by a seventh grader in their art or science class. In between the extremes there is enormous room to debate as to whether particular distinctions drawn and differences applied are beneficial or harmful, unfair or justified. And, the Court had historically made such “breathing room” between the discrimination required (or merely allowed) under the Free Exercise Clause and the discrimination required (or merely allowed) under the Establishment Clause, a central component of its religion clause jurisprudence.39See, e.g., Walz v. Tax Comm’n, 397 U.S. 664, 669 (1970).

Nonetheless, words are powerful things. They can be used to manipulate, as well as elucidate. Unfortunately, conflating various definitions of “discrimination,” which is all too common today, may serve the former end. A casual use of the word may create the false impression that particular differential treatment is morally or normatively suspect, when in fact it may be socially desirable––or even a legal requirement. Regretfully, the Supreme Court has gotten in on the act. The Religion Clauses of the First Amendment, very much unlike the Equal Protection Clause, mandate discrimination. Yet, as we shall see, recent religion jurisprudence has mischaracterized “discrimination” as a Constitutional wrong, instead of a Constitutional imperative.

III.  HOW WE GOT HERE: THE LOCKE DISSENT FORESHADOWS A NEW FIRST AMENDMENT

A state may have free reign when it comes to establishing an official state bird, flower, or song, but the Establishment Clause insists that religion is different. That same state may not establish Buddhism or Zoroastrianism or Christianity as its official religion. And the Constitution commands not merely that government shall “make no law respecting an establishment of religion,” it may not prohibit “the free exercise thereof” either.40U.S. Const. amend. I. The state, in the guise of its police powers, may regulate, prohibit, punish, and penalize a full spectrum of human behavior, unless that behavior it is targeting constitutes “an exercise of religion.” While political and constitutional theorists may debate the reasons for this mandatory discrimination––many, including Madison, suggest it serves both the interests of the government and the respective religion that may not be established by the government.41Reiss, supra note 12, at 103. While one might debate the extent and nature of the qualitative benefits Madison foresaw, it is “discrimination” loud and clear.

The Court acknowledged this plain reading of the First Amendment as recently as 2004 in a decision by then Chief Justice Rehnquist. He pointed out, in the context of potential state funding for religious training, that the First Amendment’s unique approach to religion “find[s] no counterpart with respect to other callings or professions. That a State would deal differently with religious education for the ministry than with education for other callings [in other words, that it would discriminate] is a product of these views, not evidence of hostility toward religion.”42Locke v. Davey, 540 U.S. 712, 721 (2004). It was not surprising that his opinion allowing for a selective government scholarship program that excluded theological training read like an exercise in constitutional common sense, with just two dissenters. After all, it had only been two years since the Court, in a controversial 5–4 Establishment Clause decision, first allowed a school voucher program that provided tuition aid to private religious schools to stand.43Zelman v. Simmons-Harris, 536 U.S. 639 (2002).

However, beginning with Trinity Lutheran Church of Columbia v. Comer in 2017, followed by Espinoza v. Montana Department of Revenue in 2020, and most recently, in Carson v. Makin in 2022, the Court radically inverted this natural and widely accepted reading of the Religion Clauses. Admittedly, this novel interpretation of the religion clauses did not appear out of the ether. In that same case in which Chief Justice Rehnquist issued his short ten-page majority opinion rejecting the free exercise inspired demand that the State of Washington pay for a student’s post-secondary religious schooling, Justices Scalia and Thomas dissented and articulated the view that would become the approach of a Court majority beginning in 2017.44Locke, 540 U.S. at 726–34.

For many decades prior to this decision, the Court had interpreted the Establishment Clause as an outright bar on state funding of religious exercise.45Carson v. Makin, 142 S. Ct. 1987, 2012 (2022). However, beginning in the late 1990s, with the case of Agostini v. Felton,46Agostini v. Felton, 521 U.S. 203 (1997).and culminating in Zelman v. Simmons-Harris in 2002, the Court orchestrated what Professor Nelson Tebbe has called a “contemporary turnabout” in its antiestablishment law.47Nelson Tebbe, Excluding Religion, 156 U. Pa. L. Rev. 1263, 1265 (2008). Indirect aid to parents for vouchers to pay for religious education, and even some direct aid to religious institutions, was now a constitutional policy option for legislators across the nation.48Id. at 1266. 

With Zelman, the Court’s religion jurisprudence had just jumped from a world in which government funding of religious education had been presumed to be unconstitutional under the Establishment Clause, to one in which a closely divided Court tenuously held that it was permitted under certain narrow circumstances. In Locke, two dissenters, just two years later, were arguing that such funding was not merely allowed, but required under the Free Exercise Clause, foreshadowing the even more radical changes that were soon to come. Effectively, these two dissenters were arguing—in contravention of the well-established conventional textual reading—that rather than requiring religion be treated differently, the religion clauses instead imposed a broad anti-discrimination mandate. In just a decade and a half, this trial run of the anti-religious-discrimination Free Exercise Clause would transform into the majority view on the Court.

Here was the dissenters’ proposed statement of the rule: “When the State makes a public benefit generally available, that benefit becomes a part of the baseline against which burdens on religion are measured; and when the State withholds that benefit from some individuals solely on the basis of religion, it violates the Free Exercise Clause . . . .”49Locke, 540 U.S. at 726–27 (Scalia J., dissenting). The logic might run as follows: “[P]rohibiting the free exercise” of religion under the First Amendment involves imposing some form of “burden” on such exercise. After all, a “prohibition” imposed by a savvy public official seeking to harm or diminish religion would not typically come in the form of a straight-forward law banning a particular religion or religiosity outright; the more strategically astute approach would be a law that indirectly makes certain elements of a religious practice more difficult, or impossible. Laws with an indirect impact on religion may burden religion. The question then becomes, how do we determine whether there has been such a “burden?” It would seem that to the Locke dissenters, if a “generally available” public benefit is not available to all, we may deem those to whom it is not available, “burdened.”

The dissent utilizes an unexpected dose of post-modern relativistic logic that puts government in the foreground. Their reasoning effectively suggests that it is outside forces—in this case the government—that establish reality for religious practitioners. A burden may be inflicted on religion not just by virtue of what government does to religion, but by virtue of what government does elsewhere. It is as if the dissenters were looking to Article III’s demand that compensation of federal judges “not be diminished during their Continuance in Office,”50U.S. Const. art. III. and reasoning that a change in tax law reducing the mortgage interest deduction is unconstitutional because it makes purchasing a home for a judge more expensive, thereby “diminishing” the relative value of their compensation. The baseline for judging whether free exercise has been burdened is not the unique, longstanding, and deeply rooted practices of the particular religion affected by the government action (or inaction), it is government policy and the relative benefits it provides to various other societal actors. With this peculiar logical maneuver, a constitutional provision that on its face demands religion be treated differently—and protected in ways that other life philosophies or practices are not—is inverted to become one that prohibits religion from being treated differently.

At the same time, the dissent begs the question, what does “generally available” mean? Clearly, all public benefits are subject to rules dictating who is, and who is not eligible. A scholarship fund for post-secondary education will presumably not be available to five-year-olds, nor to those who wish to self-educate in isolation in the woods. The concept of “general availability” requires some sort of limiting principle. If “generally available” simply means that the public benefit at issue is offered in accordance with a relatively fixed non-discretionary rule for some category or categories of non-religious purposes or beneficiaries, this anti-religious-discrimination principle would have virtually limitless application. Considering the ubiquity of government in modern society, it would be an invitation for courts to mandate government-funded religion in virtually all spheres of public life. 

For most of the jurisprudential history of the religion clauses, the Court’s primary challenge, considering the inherent tension between the Establishment and the Free Exercise Clause, has been to craft doctrines determining when, and how much discrimination is required. Must religion be discriminated against when public funds incidentally benefit religious institutions in a way that is comparable to how other (secular) institutions benefit, or only when the funds exclusively target and support a particular religion? Must an anti-discrimination law be discriminatorily applied, exempting hiring and firing decisions by religious organizations from the anti-discrimination mandates that otherwise would apply?51See, e.g., Hosanna-Tabor Evangelical Lutheran Church & Sch. v. Equal Emp. Opportunity Comm’n, 565 U.S. 171 (2012). If so, must such discriminatory exemption apply to just religious ministers, or to all employees of a religious organization? These are the sorts of questions the Court previously asked: to what extent, in what manner, and in what settings do the differential treatment rules of the religion clauses apply to religious organizations and practitioners? The two Locke dissenters inverted the doctrinal question in Religion Clause cases, reframing them as an anti-discrimination mandate.

To critique the dissenter’s approach is not to deny that a violation of the Free Exercise Clause may involve discrimination against a religion or a religious practitioner. A legal ban on Rosary Beads would both arguably prohibit the free exercise of religion for practicing Catholics and at the same time discriminate against Roman Catholicism, treating it differently from other religious practices and secular owners of beaded jewelry. A straight-forward reading of the Free Exercise Clause however, would suggest that it is the prohibition on religious exercise and not the differential treatment that constitutes the constitutional infraction.

 As the Supreme Court has itself emphasized, in the Free Exercise Clause, “[t]he crucial word . . . is ‘prohibit’: ‘For the Free Exercise Clause is written in terms of what the government cannot do to the individual, not in terms of what the individual can exact from the government.’ ”52Lyng v. Nw. Indian Cemetery Protective Ass’n, 485 U.S. 439, 451 (1988). Not only is there no evidence of a general anti-discrimination principle in the text of the Free Exercise Clause, as mentioned earlier, there is an explicit pro-discrimination principle. That is, when a broad legal restriction impacts both religious and non-religious actors, it may be that as to those affected religious individuals “free” religious “exercise” is literally being “prohibited,” entitling them, but not the non-religious affected individuals, to a discriminatory exemption from the law.

Granted, the Court has not been consistent on the question of required accommodations under the Free Exercise Clause. In a 1972 case addressing a state’s compulsory high school education law that was at odds with the practices of a particular religious community, the Court concluded that the Free Exercise Clause demands an exemption.53Wisconsin v. Yoder, 406 U.S. 205 (1972). In contrast, the 1990 case of Employment Division v. Smith suggested that such required differential treatment under the Free Exercise Clause should be construed narrowly.54Emp. Div. v. Smith, 494 U.S. 872 (1990). Then in 2012, a unanimous Court—citing both the Free Exercise and Establishment Clause—concluded that religious institutions are entitled to a ministerial exemption that allows them to fire a teacher of secular and theological subjects, even if such firing would otherwise contravene applicable anti-discrimination law.55Hosanna-Tabor, 565 U.S. at 171. The Court explained that “imposing an unwanted minister . . . infringes the Free Exercise Clause, which protects a religious group’s right to shape its own faith and mission through its appointments.”56Id. at 188.

Regardless of the uneven application over the years, the pro-discrimination implications of the Free Exercise Clause are clear. As O’Connor points out in her Smith concurrence, “A person who is barred from engaging in religiously motivated conduct is barred from freely exercising his religion . . . regardless of whether the law prohibits the conduct only when engaged in for religious reasons, only by members of that religion, or by all persons.”57Smith, 494 U.S. at 893 (O’Connor J., concurring). The free exercise remedy, if it is to apply, would only benefit the religious practitioner—freeing him or her up from an otherwise application restriction—while leaving non-religious individuals burdened. It would, in other words, discriminate between religion and non-religion, treating them differently.

The new anti-religious-discrimination interpretation, in contrast, ignores these basic mechanics of the religion clauses. Scalia’s dissenting opinion in Locke is riddled with surprisingly sloppy reasoning. To support his reading of the Religion Clauses, he draws on an analogy to racial discrimination, yet fails to mention that the Court’s jurisprudence there is rooted in an entirely different part of the Constitution, with completely different language, structure and purpose.58Locke v. Davey, 540 U.S. 712, 728 (2004). The Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment provides that “No state shall . . . deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.”59U.S. Const. amend. XIV, § 1. It was not designed with the doctrinally formidable Janus-faced structure (and resulting built-in tension) of the religion clauses—which has led the Court to acknowledge a “play in the joints” between impermissible laws “respecting an establishment of religion” and unconstitutional measures “prohibiting” religion’s “free exercise.”60Walz v. Tax Comm’n, 397 U.S. 664, 669 (1970).

In between the two clauses, in other words, there must be some room for laws that promote anti-establishment values but do not violate free exercise, and vice-versa. This is because laws aimed at avoiding establishment—in the direct sense—will almost invariably diminish free exercise; and laws intended to promote free exercise inevitably move toward establishment. It is a conundrum by design, built upon the Framers understanding of the precarious balance needed to maintain a safe buffer between church and state. The boundaries established by Court doctrine on either side necessitate judicial intervention into matters of religion that are not required of other spheres of government action. Yet, completely disregarding this unique structure of the religion clauses, Scalia instead drew a direct analogy to equal protection. To drive home his point, he argued that “A municipality hiring public contractors may not discriminate against blacks or in favor of them; it cannot discriminate a little bit each way and then plead ‘play in the joints’ when haled into court.”61Locke, 540 U.S. at 728 (Scalia, J., dissenting). But unlike the Equal Protection Clause this is precisely what the religion clauses require––discrimination—a delicate dance between anti-establishment and free exercise in which religion is given special treatment on both ends.

History is riddled with religious wars and instability. The Framers’ innovative formulation in the First Amendment was an attempt to protect the new nation from this same fate. Including only an Establishment Clause would have risked a government so intent on divorcing itself from religion that it would end up stymieing it—generating resentment and potentially violent revolt from passionate religious adherents who felt their free exercise was being choked. Include only a Free Exercise Clause and the danger for government and religion falls on the opposite end of the spectrum; a government openly facilitates and becomes intertwined with religious practice risking its politicization, and the perception (and likely reality) that the state is choosing favorites. Bitterness and backlash among those sects not granted politically favored status would naturally result. As an integrated whole, the two religion clauses were a Goldilocks solution.

As Professor Steven D. Smith observes, “[t]he words . . . ‘establishment of religion’ [and] ‘free exercise’—served to define the substantive area over which Congress was disclaiming jurisdiction.”62Smith, supra note 31, at 1045. It was that simple. There is nothing in the First Amendment demanding that if non-religious governmental benefits are distributed, religious institutions should be entitled to equivalent goodies. Quite the contrary. The Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment and the Religion Clauses of the First Amendment are not the same.

IV.  THE RISE OF “NEUTRALITY”

How then to explain the dissenters’ conflation of principles from these two very different amendments in the Constitution—the Religion Clauses in the First Amendment and the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth? It would seem that Scalia in his Locke dissent was drawing on the “neutrality” principle rooted in certain of the Court’s Establishment Clause decisions. In the seminal 1947 decision Everson v. Board of Education the Court upheld New Jersey’s reimbursement of bus transportation costs to parents sending their children to private schools, including those with a religious affiliation.63Everson v. Bd. of Educ., 330 U.S. 1, 3 (1947). The Everson Court recounted the context in which the Framers’ drafted the religion clauses, stressing that early American settlers sought to escape the compulsion in Europe that they financially support churches favored by the government.64Id. at 8. It emphasized—and included in full in the appendix—James Madison’s Memorial and Remonstrance, a tract written in opposition to a Virginia law that would have imposed a tax on its residents to support the established church.65Id. at 11–12.

Despite ultimately rejecting the Establishment Clause challenge, the Everson Court insisted that “New Jersey cannot consistently with the ‘establishment of religion’ clause of the First Amendment contribute tax-raised funds to the support of an institution which teaches the tenets and faith of any church.”66Id. at 16. It simply found that here, “[t]he State contributes no money to the schools. It does not support them. Its legislation, as applied, does no more than provide a general program to help parents get their children, regardless of their religion, safely and expeditiously to and from accredited schools.”67Id. at 18. Under these circumstances the state was “a neutral in its relations with groups of religious believers and non-believers,”68Id. at 17–18 (emphasis added). not unlike if it were providing police assistance for children crossing the street––some of whom happen to be traveling to or from a religious school.

“Neutrality,” in other words, was a way of distinguishing innocuous general welfare laws that just happen to have, among their many beneficiaries, religious individuals or institutions, from those constitutionally problematic laws that “respect an establishment of religion” by using taxpayer funds for targeted support of religion. If anything, neutrality as used in Everson is about understanding that religion must be treated differently, that while government has broad discretionary power to single-out and benefit all-sorts of respective groups or individuals through the policy distinctions it makes, the one exception is religion. The existence of neutrality (that is, that benefits are provided without regard to the religious status of the beneficiaries) provides support for the conclusion that it is not the kind of law that unconstitutionally respects an establishment of religion. Neutrality suggests that government is not targeting religion qua religion for a specific benefit in violation of the Establishment Clause.

 Neutrality was the principle that Scalia seemed to rely upon when he drew an analogy to equal protection in his Locke dissent, explaining that “[i]f the Religion Clauses demand neutrality, we must enforce them, in hard cases as well as easy ones.”69Locke v. Davey, 540 U.S. 712, 728 (2004) (Scalia, J., dissenting). But, as we have seen, the “neutrality” of Everson is nothing like the general anti-religious discrimination rule the Locke dissenters portray it to be. The fact that the Court has turned to neutrality as a consideration in particular Establishment Clause settings does not transform the Religion Clauses more broadly, and particularly the Free Exercise Clause, into sweeping prohibition of religious discrimination.

The neutrality principle laid out in Everson is one evidentiary standard, among many, for determining whether or not a particular state may be targeting religion in a manner that is inconsistent with the Establishment Clause. Indeed, it is a method of determining when discrimination may be constitutionally required. Considering the fact that most policy choices by government will have some effect on some religious actors, neutrality is simply a device for separating the wheat from the chaff. By providing reimbursement of transportation costs for all schoolchildren—attending secular and religious schools alike—a state is no doubt promoting free exercise of religion. It is making it more affordable for religious parents to freely exercise their religion by educating their children at the religious school of their choice. The question then becomes: under these circumstances does the other religion clause demand discrimination, mandating that religion be treated differently and be denied, unlike the secular schools, this benefit?

Neutrality may be a useful tool in some establishment cases, but it is one that the Court has used only when appropriate, and not with consistency. Indeed, illustrating just how far the Court has moved on religion clause issues, we might observe that Everson itself was a closely contested 5–4 decision. Four dissenters were not convinced that a state should be allowed under the Establishment Clause, as part of a neutral public service program available to all parents, to reimburse families for the cost of sending their children to religiously affiliated schools.

The Locke dissent never explains why, by laying out a standard of “neutrality” in a narrow Establishment Clause context, Everson should now be understood to impose an equality rule under the Free Exercise Clause—requiring the Court to mandate, what in Everson, it just barely allowed. As we shall explore further, while establishment and free exercise may represent two ends of a tension rod, respectively they impose distinct kinds of constraints on government. Scalia, in his Locke dissent, conflates establishment and free exercise.

Justice Gorsuch utilized this conflation to profound effect in his 2022 majority decision in Kennedy v. Bremerton School District.70Kennedy v. Bremerton Sch. Dist. 142 S .Ct. 2407 (2022). There he analyzed a public prayer by a public school coach at a public school event as largely a free exercise issue—whereas in the past the issue would almost certainly have been framed along Establishment Clause lines as an unconstitutional instance of a government official injecting his religion into a school-sanctioned activity. As the smoking gun, Gorsuch points out that “[b]y its own admission, the District sought to restrict [the coach’s] actions at least in part because of their religious character.”71Id. at 2422. It sought to prohibit actions “appearing to a reasonable observer to endorse . . . prayer.”72Id. This was the “gotcha” moment to Justice Gorsuch; a conscientious choice by a school district to comply with the separation of church and state principles articulated in the Establishment Clause becomes damning evidence of a violation of neutrality under the Free Exercise Clause. This is a Religion Clause world turned upside-down.

In Kennedy the Court effectively overruled, indeed inverted, its Establishment Clause precedents recognizing an endorsement test.73Id. at 2427. Public endorsement of religion by government went from prohibited, to prohibited to prohibit. This blowtorch to the Court’s previous jurisprudence, however, cannot alter the fact that the First Amendment, by its very terms, demands discrimination; a state may for legitimate policy purposes designate taxpayer funds to a specific circus school, driver’s education school, agricultural school, or most any other school it deems worthy, except if it is targeting religious education. As we shall discuss in the next Section, consistent with the government speech doctrine, a state has largely unconstrained discretion to choose its own policies and policy messages, except with regard to religion.

V.  THE EMERGING GOVERNMENT SPEECH DOCTRINE

There is some irony in this new muddying of the Religion Clause waters, as the Court has in recent years also moved toward clarification of another part of the First Amendment, one that resonates in the free exercise context: the government speech doctrine. The Free Speech Clause has over time come to incorporate a kind of anti-discrimination principle of its own. Despite reading as a simple across-the-board prohibition that “Congress shall make no law . . . abridging the freedom speech,”74U.S. Const. amend. I. modern free speech case law has come to the realization that the most potent threats to expression come in the form of laws that specifically target (or “discriminate” against) particular content or viewpoints. After all, virtually all laws could be said to impact expression; whether it is blocking traffic on an eight-lane highway, setting private property ablaze, or assaulting a police officer in front of the nation’s capital, if human behavior is observable, it may be framed as expressive. Broad exemptions from criminal and civil accountability merely because the harmful behavior at issue happens to be observable would be intolerable; this was clearly not what the framers of the First Amendment had in mind.

The protection of free expression must have some limiting principle. Thus, the Court has come to differentiate between state attempts to silence particular ideas or ideologies from mere content-neutral “time place or manner” restrictions or regulations directed at harmful behavior that incidentally affects expression. Under the Supreme Court’s free speech doctrine, the former discriminatory treatment of certain content or viewpoints is subjected to a much higher level of judicial scrutiny than the latter—neutral regulations that may in some sense be said to inhibit expression, but without regard to content or viewpoint.75See, e.g., Reed v. Town of Gilbert, 576 U.S. 155, 172–73 (2015). As the end of the twentieth century approached, the Court began to explicitly come to terms with the inverse principle. When it is the government that is doing the speaking, it must have the ability to discriminate.

In a sense, like religion under the Establishment and Free Exercise clauses, “government speech” under the free speech clause is different. It is a democratic imperative that government be able to discriminate in the ideas it conveys. Government must have the ability to choose its own message. It is the culmination of its messages and expressive actions, after all, for which the people hold government to account at the ballot box. Government “speaks” by, among other things, subsidizing particular activities, employing individuals to propagate particular messages, or installing monuments that convey certain ideas.76See Rust v. Sullivan, 500 U.S. 173, 192–93 (1991); Pleasant Grove City v. Summum, 555 U.S. 460, 460 (2009). This is, by its very nature, an exclusionary activity.

As the government chooses to spread one message, it necessarily declines to communicate others. It discriminates based on content or viewpoint. As a new administration takes the helm in response to a shift in voter sentiments, a government will likely change its message. A city government might remove a statue of Robert E. Lee from a public park. It might replace that statue with one depicting the civil rights triumphs of Martin Luther King, Jr. A group of Civil War reenactors may object. However, their recourse is not in a First Amendment that guarantees them a right to have the government send the message they want it to send. It is the political process. The Court made this point succinctly in a 1991 case that would come to be described as the first in a series of cases that form the government speech doctrine.77Helen Norton, The Government’s Speech and the Constitution 32–34 (Alexander Tsesis ed., 2019).

Rust v. Sullivan involved a government program that appropriated public funds for certain family-planning services.78Rust, 500 U.S. at 178. In so doing, Title X of the Family Health Service Act stipulated that none of the allocated funds were to be used in programs that included abortion as a family-planning method.79Id. As a plain-vanilla First Amendment free speech issue, one might assume that the government could not prohibit a counselor or physician from merely discussing a legal abortion as a medical option. Such discriminatory censorship directed at particular content might seem, on the most basic level, antithetical to core First Amendment principles. However, when it is the government that is speaking—as is arguably the case with a government program intended to promote certain goals but not others—the First Amendment prohibition on content or viewpoint-based discrimination is flipped on its head. We expect an anti-abortion administration to “be discriminating” when it comes to the messages it chooses to send about this volatile issue, just as pro-abortion rights voters would expect elected officials who run on a prochoice platform to propagate government speech that facilitates, rather than inhibits, the right to choose. To drive home its point, the Court in Rust provided this example: “When Congress established a National Endowment for Democracy to encourage other countries to adopt democratic principles, . . . it was not constitutionally required to fund a program to encourage competing lines of political philosophy such as communism and fascism.”80Id. at 194.

Thus, if we return to the Court’s anti-discriminatory religion clause innovation, we can see another glaring tension. Even before this current Supreme Court’s most recent Religion Clause turnabout mandating certain government expenditures on religion, some had expressed concern that the growing prominence of the government speech doctrine might diminish previously viable Establishment Clause challenges—because of their potential framing as government speech.81Carol Nackenoff, The Dueling First Amendments: Government as Funder, as Speaker, and the Establishment Clause, 69 Md. L. Rev. 132, 147–48 (2009). But under the Court’s new regime, the anti-religious-discrimination doctrine and the government speech doctrine are on a collision course. A constitutional mandate that government subsidize religious speech to avoid a free exercise “discrimination” claim (just because such subsidy is also available to certain non-religious recipients), is a command that it express ideas it may not want to express, using taxpayer money. It is counter-majoritarian, and directly contradicts the principle underlying the government speech doctrine. In Rust, the Court reiterated the common sense conclusion that “[t]he Government can, without violating the Constitution, selectively fund a program to encourage certain activities it believes to be in the public interest, without at the same time funding an alternative program which seeks to deal with the problem in another way.”82Rust, 500 U.S. at 193. It turns out, however, that this is not the case; that is, at least according to the Court’s novel anti-discriminatory religion clause doctrine.

One might respond, however, as pointed out earlier, that religion is different. Might there be something about religion that would justify a diversion from the otherwise applicable government speech principle? Could it be that this difference merits an exception from the intuitive notion that a government—as a representative of “we the people”—should be able to choose which policies or messages to propagate, and which messages not to endorse, or simply not expend taxpayer resources on? The Constitution, after all, already carves out certain areas in which simple majoritarian politics will not do, requiring instead a super majority for policy change. Fifty-one percent of the population, in other words, cannot do away with probable cause; the Constitution would have to be amended.

One might argue, for instance, that as a fundamental constitutional right, the free exercise of religion should be exempt from the baseline government speech rule. This is quite similar to what was argued by the dissenters in Rust. They pointed to the fact that the right to choose abortion under the “liberty” guarantee in the Fifth Amendment was (at the time) a fundamental constitutional right. As such, selective discrimination against the expression of certain medically pertinent information facilitating that freedom of choice, even under the auspices of a government program, was unconstitutional.83Id. at 216.

 The Court, however, rejected this argument. It also left little room to doubt the basis of this rejection. Citing Regan v. Taxation with Representation, a decision in which the Court upheld a narrowly selective subsidy for lobbying by certain types of organizations, it explained that a “legislature’s decision not to subsidize the exercise of a fundamental right does not infringe the right.”84Id. at 193. Thus, it would seem that the fundamental constitutional rights argument cannot explain the Court’s new anti-religious-discrimination doctrine. The Court’s government speech precedents directly conflict with today’s Court’s characterization of a failure to fund religious education as a “penalty” imposed on that religion.85Espinoza v. Mont. Dep’t of Revenue, 140 S. Ct. 2246, 2255 (2020).

VI.  THE RADICAL TRINITY

If a jurisprudential entrepreneur were on the lookout for an ideal test case to sell a radical reformulation of the Court’s approach to the religion clauses, the facts of Trinity Lutheran Church of Columbia v. Comer would certainly fit the bill. On the surface, this case about the re-surfacing of children’s playgrounds in Missouri involved a highly sympathetic petitioner and addressed relatively un-weighty issues of church and state. To promote recycling and benefit children in low income areas, the state government allocated funds on a competitive basis to help nonprofit daycare centers replace older, harder playground surfaces with ones made from recycled tires.86Trinity Lutheran Church of Columbia, Inc. v. Comer, 582 U.S. 449, 454–55 (2017). Unfortunately for Trinity Lutheran Church, it discovered that its preschool and daycare center were ineligible.87Id. Article I, Section 7 of the Missouri Constitution provided that “no money shall ever be taken from the public treasury, directly or indirectly, in aid of any church, sect or denomination of religion.”88Id at 455. Missouri categorically disqualified religious organizations from receiving grants under the program.89Id.

Although the District Court did not mention the government speech doctrine by name, it upheld the Missouri program using reasoning consistent with the doctrine’s underlying principles. It drew an analogy to a case upholding a state’s “mere” choice not to fund a particular “category of instruction,”90Trinity Lutheran Church of Columbia, Inc. v. Pauley, 976 F.Supp.2d 1137, 1148 (W.D. Mo. 2013). suggesting that it was within Missouri’s discretion to determine the scope of its programs. This includes the choice not to subsidize playgrounds run by religious institutions with public money. In concisely rejecting a free expression argument, the District Court dismissed any notion that the program was designed as an “open forum” for speech.91Id. at 1157.

Consistent with the pro-discrimination implications of the religion clauses, it pointed to the state’s “antiestablishment” interests in preventing religious organizations from receiving government funds.92Id. at 1148. Even if Missouri was not required to promote this interest to the extent it did––prohibiting any receipt of funds by religious organizations––significant “play in the joints” exists between what is prohibited by the Establishment Clause and what is required by Free Exercise.93Id. at 1147. The District Court reasoned that Missouri’s more robust prohibition (what we might certainly call “discrimination” against religion), supports the antiestablishment values built into the religion clauses.94Id. at 1148. Indeed, according to the Court, it would be patently “illogical” to presume that a choice not to fund religion to avoid potential entanglement with government necessarily reflects a hostility toward religion.95Id. The District Court emphasized that the grant here would be paid directly to the religious organization, making the antiestablishment concerns even more compelling than programs designed to sever the direct link between government aid and religious institutions by putting the choice to spend in the hands of private individuals.96Id. at 1152.

The Eighth Circuit affirmed the District Court decision, characterizing the appellant as “seek[ing] an unprecedented ruling—that a state constitution violates the First Amendment . . . if it bars the grant of public funds to a church.”97Trinity Lutheran Church of Columbia, Inc. v. Pauley, 788 F.3d 779, 783 (8th Cir. 2015). In no uncertain terms, it rejected the notion that a state could be compelled to provide taxpayer funds directly to a church: “No Supreme Court case” it explained, “has granted such relief.”98Id. at 784. Moving to an approach in which every generally available public benefit becomes a baseline in which we might scrutinize the denial of comparable benefits to religious actors, would, according to the Circuit Court, constitute “a logical constitutional leap.”99Id. at 785. It would fundamentally recast the Free Exercise Clause from a provision that demands religion be treated differently, to one that prohibits discrimination against it. It would require a repudiation of decades of precedent, and of our foundational understanding of how the religion clauses were to function. In blunt terms, the Circuit Court conceded that “only the Supreme Court can make that leap.”100Id.

But the Supreme Court had indeed changed. Beginning with this unassuming little case about playground surfaces, it was poised to make just such an unprecedented and radical shift in its religion clause jurisprudence. Granted, Chief Justice Roberts, in his majority opinion that overruled the Eighth Circuit in Trinity Lutheran, did not frame his decision in this way. Roberts has developed a reputation for strategic incrementalism, in which the seeds of what will eventually blossom into highly consequential doctrinal change are planted in unassuming soil.101Linda Greenhouse, Justice on the Brink: The Death of Ruth Bader Ginsburg, the Rise of Amy Coney Barrett, and Twelve Months that Transformed the Supreme Court 219 (2021). However, the Trinity Lutheran dissenters did not mince words. Emphasizing the high-stakes of this seemingly low-stakes decision, Justice Sotomayor tells us that “[t]his case is about nothing less than the relationship between religious institutions and the civil government . . . [t]he Court today profoundly changes that relationship.”102Trinity Lutheran Church of Columbia, Inc. v. Comer, 582 U.S. 449, 471–72 (2017) (Sotomayor, J., dissenting).

Roberts’s analysis begins by setting the stage for the Court’s new Free Exercise non-discrimination principle. He cites as a broad rule the rationale of a narrow Free Exercise decision that happened to involve targeted discrimination against a particular religious sect. Granted, the language in the 1993 case Church of the Lukumi Babalu Aye, Inc. v. City of Hialeah103Church of the Lukumi Babalu Aye, Inc. v. City of Hialeah, 508 U.S. 520 (1993).  gave Roberts a good deal to work with. Although the decision was centrally about, as Justice Kennedy explained in the second sentence of the opinion, the “fundamental nonpersecution principle of the First Amendment,”104Id. at 523. it was peppered with the ominous suggestion that impermissible religious discrimination was afoot. However, there is no reason to conclude that the mere relevance of discrimination in this case would convert the religion clauses into a general anti-discrimination rule. Here discrimination simply served as evidence that this particular law should be understood as an unconstitutional prohibition of the free exercise of religion. Like the neutrality principle discussed above, the discriminatory nature of the law was highlighted to demonstrate that things were not as they seemed; a law that may have appeared neutral on its face, was in fact targeting a particular religion’s practices, and thus, quite literally, prohibiting “free exercise” of that religion.

The dilemma with the religion clauses, as with free speech, is that there will necessarily be a vast number of laws aimed at addressing a wide range of social ills that have the subsidiary effect of in-part “prohibiting” the free exercise of particular religions (or “abridging” expressive activity). And the Court has never taken the position, for understandable reasons, that all such laws are unenforceable as to religious practitioners (or to those whose actions are, in part, “expressive”). As Justice Scalia opined, in a country of vast religious diversity, adopting a rule that would strictly scrutinize any neutral, generally applicable law that somehow could be said to intrude on a religious practice would be “courting anarchy.”105Emp. Div. v. Smith, 494 U.S. 872, 888 (1990). The doctrinal parameters of whether, and when, a religious exemption may be required under such circumstances continue to evolve. However, it is clear that laws advancing legitimate, non-religion-related policy ends that incidentally impact the free exercise of certain religious actors are not automatically deemed constitutionally suspect.

No doubt, in drafting the First Amendment the framers sought to prohibit the type of targeted religious persecution that was all too common in the old world.106Babalu, 508 U.S. at 532. But again, the concern was that government not prohibit free exercise through persecution, not that it refrain from treating religion differently from other subjects (something that it is required to do under a straight-forward reading of the text of the First Amendment). Government persecution might be achieved through direct measures that leave little ambiguity as to the intended objective. However, a government intent on punishing, stigmatizing, or driving away an unpopular religious minority might also use non-religion-related policy justifications as a pretext for doing so. It may craft laws that are intended to impede the practices of certain religious believers but justify those laws on legitimate non-religion-related public policy grounds. Or, a legislature might truly have mixed motives. Determining whether or not there has been a free exercise violation under such circumstances may prove difficult. Thus, in this context, identifying “discrimination” may become a vital tool in sussing out whether intentional religious suppression, or a mere side effect of an unrelated policy goal, is occurring.

Preventing animal cruelty was the stated policy goal in Church of Lukumi Babalu. Upon investigation however, this facially legitimate objective was found to have been a front for religious animus. The case involved four ordinances in the south Florida city of Hialeah. Together, they prohibited certain forms of animal sacrifice, a practice associated with the Santeria religion.107Id. at 524–28. The ordinances were apparently spurred on by the imminent prospect of a Santeria church opening in Hialeah and the hostility and discomfort many residents and city council members held toward Santeria and its traditional practices.108Id. at 541–42.

The city argued that its ban on animal sacrifice was justifiable on non-religious grounds. It cited not just protecting animals from cruel treatment, as mentioned above, but also the health risks involved, the emotional injury to children that might result from witnessing such killings, and the interest in restricting slaughter to particular areas of the city.109Id. at 529–30. The narrow ban however, was carefully crafted to exclude virtually all animal killing other than religious sacrifice, and even within this category it exempted kosher slaughter.110Id. at 535–36. The Court concluded that “Santeria alone was the exclusive legislative concern. . . . [K]illings that are no more necessary or humane in almost all other circumstances are unpunished.”111Id. at 536. This was, as Justice Souter pointed out in his concurrence, “a rare example of a law actually aimed at suppressing religious exercise.”112Id. at 564 (Souter, J., concurring).

The Court unanimously struck down the ordinances as a violation of the Free Exercise Clause.113Id. at 546. It was from this unexceptional holding in Church of Lukumi Babalu—prohibiting a legal ban directly targeting practices that were a clear element of the sect’s religious exercise—that the Court in Trinity Lutheran extracts from the Free Exercise Clause a strikingly broad anti- religious-discrimination rule. The new rule requires taxpayer money be used to facilitate the religious mission of an organization—that is, if such funds are available to secular organizations.

Granted, the Church of Lukumi Babalu Court identified, through a close examination of the text of the ordinances at issue and the broader social context, blatantly discriminatory treatment targeting particular practices of a particular religious group. And at times, Kennedy used language to emphasize the significance of such unequal treatment, for example, when he stated that “[a]t a minimum, the protections of the Free Exercise Clause pertain if the law at issue discriminates against some or all religious beliefs or regulates or prohibits conduct because it is undertaken for religious reasons.”114Id. at 532. In this context, this observation simply points out that a restriction on free exercise that is specifically directed toward a particular religion or religious practice is a First Amendment red flag. Such a law presents a sharp contrast to generally applicable laws that affect, and are directed toward, religious and non-religious actors alike. The fact of “discrimination,” in other words, helps courts home in on the most egregious and likely unconstitutional prohibitions on free exercise. Nothing in the decision, however, would suggest that it is the “discrimination” that is the free exercise offense, nor that unconstitutional “discrimination” should be interpreted to encompass a mere choice by a government not to provide financial support to particular religious organizations.

Indeed, Roberts’s reliance upon Church of Lukumi Babalu is particularly curious considering that it was issued just two years after Rust v. Sullivan. As discussed above, this is the seminal government speech case in which the Court explicitly affirmed a government’s power to discriminate—to be selective and make substantive distinctions as to the programs it chooses to fund or not fund.115See supra Part V. What is Chief Justice Roberts’s response to this apparent contradiction? He tells us that “Trinity Lutheran is not claiming any entitlement to a subsidy. It is asserting a right to participate in a government benefit program without having to disavow its religious character.”116Trinity Lutheran Church of Columbia, Inc. v. Comer, 582 U.S. 449, 451 (2017).

But how is claiming a right to receive government largess by “participat[ing] in a government benefit program” that one is not qualified to participate in, anything but an assertion of an “entitlement to a subsidy?”117Id. The Chief Justice’s artful reframing and rephrasing of Trinity Lutheran’s argument does not alter the fundamental facts. After this decision the government in Missouri is required to use taxpayer money to subsidize what on policy grounds it does not wish to subsidize. The Chief’s attempt to sugarcoat its radical decision notwithstanding, the unelected Supreme Court is telling an elected government how it must legislate and allocate its resources—a command that is in direct conflict with its own government speech doctrine.

The only other ostensibly on-point case cited by the Trinity Lutheran Court as support for its innovative religion clause non-discrimination rule was the 1978 plurality opinion in McDaniel v. Paty.118McDaniel v. Paty, 435 U.S. 618 (1978). Under the Tennessee Constitution, clergy were disqualified from serving as state legislators, and thereby not permitted to serve as delegates to a state constitutional convention.119Id. at 620–21. The Supreme Court struck down the exclusion on Free Exercise grounds. The plurality explained that this exclusion of ministers from state legislatures was a practice that was implemented in seven of the original thirteen States. It was instituted “primarily to assure the success of a new political experiment, the separation of church and state.”120Id. at 622.

However, the notion that clergy members should ipso facto be excluded from legislative positions remained controversial. This was so despite the fact that the First Amendment did not at the time apply to the states (it would not be explicitly incorporated until well after the ratification of the Fourteenth Amendment in 1868). Even James Madison, “the greatest advocate for the separation of state and church” 121Andrew L. Seidel, The Founding Myth: Why Christian Nationalism Is Un-American 37 (2019). and primary drafter of the Constitution’s religion clauses suggested (in contrast with Thomas Jefferson’s initial position) that disqualification resembled a kind of unjust punishment reserved for those who happened to choose religious professions.122McDaniel, 435 U.S. at 624. To Madison, the exclusion itself might even constitute a breach of the church-state separation, in that religion was to be exempted “from the cognizance of Civil power.”123Id. at 624. One can thus see the parallel Roberts was attempting to draw with Trinity Lutheran—a law that was arguably “punishing” a playground operator, denying it the opportunity to benefit from a recycled tire resurfacing program, merely due to its religious affiliation.

However, with the help of the government speech doctrine, the distinction between Trinity Lutheran and McDaniel becomes immediately clear. A policy choice as to how the government will use taxpayer dollars—what kinds of interests or schools or playgrounds it will support—is fundamentally different from a law that makes distinctions as to who may legislate in the first place. The former represents a choice as to the policy message the government will communicate, a democratic imperative; the latter represents a choice to exclude certain voices from the possibility of being a part of that government, an anti-democratic exclusion. To suggest that the right to run for office in a democracy is a mere government “benefit” comparable to a government program that helps fund playground resurfacing124Trinity Lutheran Church of Columbia, Inc. v. Comer, 582 U.S. 449, 462 (2017). is to demean a core element of representative democracy. It conflates the ability to select a representative with the naturally selective product of representative democracy; it degrades them both by suggesting that a democracy-affirming Court intervention to prevent limitations on who we may choose as a representative is somehow analogous to a democracy-inhibiting limitation on a government to make policy choices.

McDaniel was also grounded in an individual right to practice one’s religion. The Court explained that “the right to the free exercise of religion unquestionably encompasses the right to preach, proselyte, and perform other similar religious functions, or, in other words, to be a minister of the type McDaniel was found to be.”125McDaniel, 435 U.S. at 626. McDaniel’s right to free exercise was being conditioned upon his surrender of democratic political participation, the choice to run for office. His desire to serve as a delegate to a state constitutional convention was not a request to have the state subsidize his religious activity, except to the extent than any government employee’s private activities might be said to be subsidized by a state salary.

Trinity Lutheran in contrast, involved not an individual’s rights, but the rights of a collective entity. It described its Child Learning Center’s mission as “provid[ing] a safe, clean, and attractive school facility in conjunction with an educational program structured to allow a child to grow spiritually.”126Trinity Lutheran, 582 U.S. at 455. Trinity Lutheran, in other words, was seeking state tax dollars to advance its religious goals as a collective entity. The loss by Trinity Lutheran of the opportunity to participate in a subsidized playground surface program was nothing like the Hobson’s choice that confronted McDaniel. He was not seeking support from the government for his religious works. For McDaniel, under the Tennessee law he was forced to either forfeit his right to fully participate as a citizen or refrain from free religious exercise. 

Chief Justice Roberts finds commonality in McDaniel and Trinity Lutheran, emphasizing the status-based nature of the discrimination in both cases.127Id. at 459. He characterized the policy in Missouri as “expressly discriminat[ing] against otherwise eligible recipients by disqualifying them from a public benefit solely because of their religious character.”128Id. at 462. The McDaniel Court similarly stressed the unique way the law in Tennessee disqualified the petitioner from office “because of his status as a ‘minister’ or ‘priest.’ ”129McDaniel, 435 U.S. at 627. And indeed, the Court has in recent years frequently conflated the individual and the collective; but there can be good reason to acknowledge the differences between the two.

At the heart of classical liberalism is a respect for the individual. The notion that status-based individual deprivations are particularly repugnant is found in many parts of the Constitution itself—whether it is the prohibition on Bills of Attainder,130U.S. Const. art. I, § 9, cl. 3. the demand that “no religious Test shall ever be required as a Qualification to any Office or public Trust under the United States,”131U.S. Const. art. VI. or that the right to vote shall not be denied “on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude”132U.S. Const. amend. XV. in the Fifteenth Amendment. Although the Court has extended many individual rights in the Constitution to collective entities, there is reason to be skeptical that the same set of concerns applies here.

Tennessee justified its disqualification of a certain category of individuals from elective office on the basis of the “leadership role” and “full time” promotion of “religious objectives” of those who choose to be ministers and priests.133McDaniel, 435 U.S. at 634–35. Citing its goal of maintaining the separation of church and state, the state emphasized its concern that the religious commitments of ministers and priests would at times interfere with their duties as a state legislator.134Id. at 645. Implicit in the plurality decision rejecting this rationale is the understanding that human beings are more than just their chosen avocation. A “unique disability” imposed on an individual because they “exhibit a defined level of intensity of involvement in protected religious activity”135Id. at 632. is, quite simply, highly distinguishable from differential treatment of legal entities based upon their respective, narrowly defined legal purpose.

Nonetheless, the Trinity Lutheran Court finds the organization’s status-based disqualification from the recycled tire playground surface program to be relevant, and sufficiently analogous to the disqualification from office faced by McDaniel. As a result, the Court found Trinity Lutheran merited a similar legal outcome. The Court’s focus on the status-based nature of the religious discrimination at issue also served to distinguish Trinity Lutheran from the 2004 decision Locke v. Davey, the seemingly on-point precedent discussed previously in which the Supreme Court reached the opposite conclusion.

In Locke the Supreme Court upheld a scholarship program in Washington State that, although available for a full range of postsecondary education degrees, stipulated funds could not be used by students “pursuing a degree in devotional theology.”136Locke v. Davey, 540 U.S. 712, 715 (2004). Roberts reasoned that in Locke the student was not denied the benefit of the program on the basis of his religious status, as was true of Trinity Lutheran, but “because of what he proposed to do—use the funds to prepare for the ministry.”137Trinity Lutheran Church of Columbia, Inc. v. Comer, 582 U.S. 449, 464 (2017). Thus, for the Trinity Lutheran Court, the distinction between religious discrimination based on religious “status” and religious “use” appeared to be determinative.

The silver lining of deciding to have the opinion turn on this questionable analogy between the status-based discrimination against the individual minister in McDaniel and the collective religious institution in Trinity Lutheran, is that it established a rule that would, in theory, still allow for government to make crucial policy distinctions consistent with the government speech doctrine. As long as the government is not declining to spend on the basis of religious status, a government might still decline to draw on finite state resources to fund religious action. A government might conclude, for example, that spending on such religious “use” would be unwise, have benefits that are unsupported by evidence, reflect objectives inconsistent with the state’s current policy goals, or simply on balance represent a less weighty spending priority than other competing governmental aims.

This “status” versus “use” distinction, however, would not have staying power. Locke would ultimately be narrowed dramatically, largely relegated to doctrinal irrelevance. In Trinity Lutheran the status/use test was thrown into question in a concurrence by Justices Gorsuch and Thomas. Gorsuch, foreshadowing the Court’s eventual path in Carson, would have distinguished the contradictory outcome in Locke on the basis of its narrow exclusion of scholarship funds for devotional theology and the “long tradition against the use of public funds for training of the clergy.”138Id. at 470 (Gorsuch, J., concurring). For Gorsuch, not only was the status/use distinction likely to be difficult to apply in practice, but it was also irrelevant for the purposes of First Amendment free exercise. The reason? To Gorsuch, “that Clause guarantees the free exercise of religion, not just the right to inward belief.”139Id. at 469.

But this is clearly incorrect. The language of the Free Exercise Clause does suggest a “guarantee.” It no more “guarantees” free exercise than the Free Speech Clause “guarantees” free speech or the Second Amendment “guarantees” that each citizen will be supplied with her own private arsenal. It merely prevents the state from interfering with or “prohibiting,” such freedom. Free exercise of religion may be hampered by friends or family, a wide range of private actors, or the free market itself. Practicing one’s religion may be time consuming, expensive, embarrassing, or stigmatizing. Indeed, it is precisely this kind of interpretive line-blurring of the Free Exercise Clause by Gorsuch that the government speech doctrine rejected when it came to the Free Speech Clause. One is not “guaranteed” an equal opportunity to have the government promote your message of x just because it has chosen to run a public service announcement promoting y.

VII.  ESPINOZA AND THE TRINITY LUTHERAN AFTERMATH

Just three years later in Espinoza v. Montana Department of Revenue the Court broadened the applicability of this fallacious reading. The Montana Constitution included a provision that barred government aid to religious schools.140Espinoza v. Mont. Dep’t of Revenue, 140 S. Ct. 2246, 2251 (2020). Under this “no-aid” provision that the State’s Supreme Court had rejected, a private school tuition assistance program that would have granted “a tax credit to anyone who donates to certain organizations that in turn award scholarships to selected students.”141Id. In Espinoza, building on the newly invented anti-religious discrimination principle, the U.S. Supreme Court struck down this provision in the Montana Constitution.

Like Trinity Lutheran, it homed in on the status/use distinction to explain why the analogous Locke holding should not apply.142Id. at 2255–57. The Court emphasized that although both Espinoza and Locke addressed government scholarship funds used for religious education, the Montana Constitution prohibited all aid to sectarian schools simply by virtue of their being religious (that is, status) whereas the program in Locke excluded, specifically, just religious training (that is, use).143Id. at 2257. This case, the Court explained, “turns expressly on religious status and not religious use.”144Id. at 2256. It even took the time to refute claims that Montana’s Constitution was in fact about preventing “use” for religious education, responding that “[s]tatus-based discrimination remains status based even if one of its goals or effects is preventing religious organizations from putting aid to religious uses.”145Id. It asserted that “status-based discrimination is subject to ‘the strictest scrutiny.’ ”146Id. at 2257. Thus, a reasonable reading of the Court’s opinion would conclude that the status versus use distinction was central to this doctrine.

At the same time that it repeatedly emphasized its significance, however, the Court seemed to be readying itself to discard this distinction in the near future. It provided the caveat that “[n]one of this is meant to suggest that we agree . . . that some lesser degree of scrutiny applies to discrimination against religious uses of government aid.”147Id. Why then raise this distinction in the first place? As mentioned earlier, Trinity Lutheran was framed as a narrow decision addressing an even narrower, idiosyncratic, and relatively low-stakes set of facts. Allaying fears that it was anything broader than this, Trinity Lutheran’s footnote three had read: “This case involves express discrimination based on religious identity with respect to playground resurfacing. We do not address religious uses of funding or other forms of discrimination.”148Trinity Lutheran Church of Columbia, Inc. v. Comer, 582 U.S. 449, 465 n.3 (2017). Reliance on this status/use distinction, as well as the inclusion of this qualifying footnote, likely contributed to a majority that was able to bring along two justices (Breyer and Kagan) who shortly thereafter would pull away, dissenting in Espinoza and Carson.

Once the critical break with the religion clause precedent was achieved, like Lucy and Charlie Brown, the Chief Justice quickly pulled that football. It turns out Trinity Lutheran was no minor decision at all. In Carson, decided two years after Espinoza, the Court was clear that it was in fact Locke that was the minor decision. Leaving little ambiguity, Roberts asserted that “Locke cannot be read beyond its narrow focus on vocational religious degrees.”149Carson v. Makin, 142 S. Ct. 1987, 2002 (2022). Thus, just a short five-year time span had passed between Trinity Lutheran—adopting the status/use device as a central means of justifying its jarring divergence from Locke—and Carson—effectively retracting it. The unfortunate implication is that the status/use distinction served merely as a short-term results-oriented expedient—the proverbial camel’s nose that could push its way, ever so slightly, under the tent—facilitating the Court’s radical transformation of the Religion Clauses. 

In Espinoza, the Court repeatedly stressed the completely inapposite, but rhetorically powerful pejorative conception of “discrimination” to justify its holding, explaining that the Constitution “condemns discrimination against religious schools and the families whose children attend them.”150Espinoza, 140 S. Ct. at 2262. But even more than Trinity Lutheran, both Espinoza and Carson address a species of governmental action that is inevitably, and necessarily, grounded in discrimination—the state’s choices about education. It is indeed difficult to imagine a more consequential sphere of government speech than the fine-grained discretion involved when a democratically elected government chooses the ideas, ideals, knowledge, and values to impart to future generations. No question, this is most apparent in the field of public education, where states and localities are in the position of determining every last detail of a curriculum. But, unless it is establishing an open public forum, there is no reason to believe that it is less relevant when a state decides which educational alternatives it will choose to subsidize, and which it will not. Such choices are a direct manifestation of the will of the people as exercised by their elected representatives.

Indeed, the only limitation on this foundational majoritarian precept that it is “the people” who decide (indirectly, through elections) on the substance of public education and private educational subsidies, is when it is overridden by the Constitution itself, which, of course, requires a supermajority to overrule.151See Epperson v. Arkansas, 393 U.S. 97, 107 (1968). And one of the most notable examples of this can be found in the requirement of religious discrimination—that religion is subject to differential treatment—in the First Amendment. This requirement of religious discrimination in public education is well established in Court precedent.

In Epperson v. Arkansas, the Court confirmed that the religion clauses carve out an exception to the general and broad discretion a state has over its schools’ curricula.152Id. at 104–05. Under Arkansas law, public schools were prohibited from “teach[ing] the theory or doctrine that mankind ascended or descended from a lower order of animals.”153Id. at 98–99. The clear motivation behind the law was to thwart teaching that conflicted with the biblical account of the origin of life.154Id. at 109. Although the Court expressed a general reluctance to involve the judiciary in questions of educational policy, it was unequivocal that “the First Amendment does not permit the State to require that teaching and learning must be tailored to the principles or prohibitions of any religious sect or dogma.”155Id. at 106. The Court reaffirmed this reading in the 1987 decision Edwards v. Aguillard.156Edwards v. Aguillard, 482 U.S. 578, 594 (1987). This well-established understanding of the religion clauses, that educational choices which are otherwise within the discretion of state and local government must be judicially curtailed due to their religious nature, was not just contradicted, but inverted by Espinoza and Carson. The problem with “Montana’s no-aid provision” explains the Espinoza majority, is that it “bars religious schools from public benefits solely because of the religious character of the schools.”157Espinoza v. Mont. Dep’t of Revenue, 140 S. Ct. 2246, 2255 (2020).

Indeed, not only is the Court converting a constitutional principle that has always required differential treatment of religion into an anti-religious-discrimination rule, but government inaction—not doing what it was formerly required not to do by a conventional reading of the First Amendment—is understood as potentially coercive. As the Court explains, “[t]he Free Exercise Clause protects against even ‘indirect coercion,’ and a State ‘punishe[s] the free exercise of religion’ by disqualifying the religious from government aid . . . .”158Id. at 2256. Roberts, in other words, is taking Scalia’s Locke dissent logic one step further: not providing a government benefit is not just a relative “burden” on religion, it is a coercive punishment. Government benefits are so alluring that Jefferson’s separation of church and state is itself unconstitutional. The wall of separation is coercive because the church on one side will see the bag of goodies on the other side and feel compelled to un-church itself––to shed its religious identity so it too can get a hold of those benefits.

VIII.  THE ASYMMETRIC AND INTERDEPENDENT RELIGION CLAUSES

The Alice in Wonderland feel of the Court’s logic may be dizzying. But it is the built-in tension between the two religion clauses that makes the Court’s startling logical backflips possible. The Court is effectively borrowing concepts culled from one side of its religion clause decisions and lending them to the other. Since the two clauses were designed to pull in two different directions and operate in fundamentally different ways, predictably, the results are perverse.

While “neutrality” is drawn from Everson, “coercion” can be found in decisions such as 1992’s Lee v. Weisman. In that case, a student made an Establishment Clause challenge to a public school practice of inviting clergy members to give nondenominational prayers at graduation ceremonies. Although a passionate concurrence by Justices Blackmun, Stevens, and O’Connor argued for a more robust separationist rationale, the majority nonetheless struck down the policy, asserting that “at a minimum, the Constitution guarantees that government may not coerce anyone to support or participate in religion or its exercise.”159Lee v. Weisman, 505 U.S. 577, 587 (1992). Students, in other words, would feel peer pressure to conform to, and perhaps participate in, the religious exercise. This anti-coercion principle was firmly rooted in the Court’s Establishment Clause jurisprudence; the Court’s sights were set on identifying those types of government actions that cross the unconstitutional line of “respecting an establishment of religion.”

The Lee Court acknowledged that attendance at the ceremony was technically voluntary, but in the eyes of most students, it was a crucial rite of passage.160Id. at 594–95. The Court explained that “[i]t is a tenet of the First Amendment that the State cannot require one of its citizens to forfeit his or her rights and benefits as the price of resisting conformance to state-sponsored religious practice.”161Id. at 596. The Court in Espinoza and Carson takes this Establishment Clause principle, and applies it as if it were about free exercise. This is a mistake. These two clauses may work in tandem, but they function differently, as their disparate textual construction clearly suggests. The latter simply prevents the government from actively interfering with or “prohibiting” religious practice, whereas the former involves the thornier question of what it may mean for a law to “respect” an establishment of religion. As constitutional historian Leonard Levy explains, “Congress can pass laws regulating and even abridging the free exercise of religion without prohibiting it altogether.”162Levy, supra note 7. And not only does the Court, with little theoretical justification, blithely transfer an Establishment Clause test to a free exercise issue, it quietly alters its relative rigor.

As this concept of “coercion” is understood to be ever more capacious on the Free Exercise side of the ledger, including the “indirect” coercion of merely not having one’s religiously informed policy preferences fulfilled, the meaning of Establishment Clause coercion gets appreciably narrower. In Kennedy v. Bremerton School District, decided just one week after Carson, the Court appeared untroubled by establishment concerns because there was “no evidence” that, during a public prayer by an influential school employee at a public school event, “students [were] directly coerced to pray with [the coach].”163Kennedy v. Bremerton Sch. Dist. 142 S. Ct. 2407, 2419 (2022) (emphasis added). Thus, in the free exercise context, it would appear that a highly tenuous, and certainly debatable “indirect” form of coercion is sufficient to impose a constitutional demand that taxpayer money be used to fund private religion. At the same time, a popular football coach publicly praying “under the bright lights” of a stadium full of spectators,164Id. at 2439 (Sotomayor, J., dissenting). while “on duty,”165Id. at 2437 (Sotomayor, J., dissenting). and implicitly inviting student participation, was not a “direct” enough form of coercion to constitute an Establishment Clause violation. This coach had “made multiple media appearances to publicize his plans to pray at the 50-yard line,”166Id. at 2437 (Sotomayor, J., dissenting). and was someone from whom students might naturally seek favorable treatment such as extra playing time and recommendation letters167Id. at 2443 (Sotomayor, J., dissenting).. . Justice Sotomayor, in dissent, characterizes this newly watered down establishment test as “a nearly toothless version of the coercion analysis.”168Id. at 2434 (Sotomayor, J., dissenting). The effect is to invert the very meaning of the religion clauses, taking what would have been an unconstitutional violation of the Establishment Clause under the Court’s precedents—the injection of religion into the public schools—and transforming it into a constitutional requirement under the Free Exercise Clause.169Id. at 2441 (Sotomayor, J., dissenting).

Considering the ubiquity of both law and religion, and the fact that most policy will interact with religion in a multitude of ways, the task of drawing the establishment line is arguably much more difficult and subtle than drawing the free exercise line. On its face, the text of the Free Exercise Clause—a simple ban on governments prohibiting the free exercise of religion—would not seem to support a reading that demands active promotion by government of religion to preempt indirect coercion of religious believers who might feel left out. On its face, the Free Exercise Clause requires answering just two questions: First, how is a particular religion practiced, or exercised? Second, does the law at issue in fact prohibit that religion or its individual practitioners from practicing in such manner? The text of the Establishment Clause, in contrast, suggests that any state activity associated with, or part of a regime of, government establishment, should be subject to judicial scrutiny. The word “respecting” gives the Establishment Clause a degree of play that that the word “prohibiting” in the Free Exercise Clause does not.

As with all constitutional language, textual analysis allows for a range of plausible interpretations; the meaning given to both the word “prohibiting” and “respecting” is not fixed and will naturally be context dependent. As Randy Barnett explains, “[a]lthough most words are potentially vague, we do not face a problem of vagueness until a word needs to be applied to an object that may or may not fall within its penumbra.”170Randy E. Barnett, Interpretation and Construction, 34 Harv. J.L. & Pub. Pol’y 65, 68–69 (2011). The Janus-faced nature of the religion clauses—pushing in two different directions at the same time—heightens the interpretive challenge. Any doctrinal test by the Court that attempts to put flesh on the bones of the purportedly vague language in one religion clause, what Barnett refers to as a process of constitutional “construction,”171Id. at 69. must remain cognizant of its potential interaction with, impact on, or inconsistency with, the other clause. The Court’s insight of a “play in the joints”—a necessary degree of governmental discretion in enacting policies that promote the principles of one clause without violating the other—is consistent with this penumbral overlap.

Nonetheless, under many factual circumstances the same test simply cannot apply simultaneously under both the Establishment Clause and Free Exercise Clause without producing irreconcilable outcomes. The coercion test, so casually transferred from establishment to free exercise in Espinoza provides an example. The prayer in Lee is a violation of the Establishment Clause’s anti-coercion principle, but under the logic of Espinoza a constitutionally repaired, prayer-free graduation ceremony would be unconstitutionally coercive to religious students under the Free Exercise Clause by depriving them of a government benefit available to secular students. A free exercise anti-coercion rule would suggest that due to this deprivation, religious students would be indirectly coerced to either give up the benefit of publicly funded education and pay to attend a private religious school or relinquish their ability to partake in a religious graduation ceremony.

James Madison emphasized the importance of separation for the good of both government and religion, seeing it as a way of “[guarding against a] tendency to a usurpation on one side or the other, or to a corrupting coalition or alliance between them . . . .”172Geoffrey R. Stone, Louis Michael Seidman, Cass R. Sunstein, Mark V. Tushnet & Pamela S. Karlan, Constitutional Law 1438 (8th ed. 2018) (quoting James Madison). Roger Williams focused primarily on the way separation protects the church from control by the state.173Id. Yet, the majority in Espinoza dismisses this concern in just a few short paragraphs. Inverting historical reality, it treats Montana’s claim that “the no-aid provision promotes religious freedom”174Espinoza v. Mont. Dep’t of Revenue, 140 S. Ct. 2246, 2261 (2020). as the novel view, and its own recent invention of the anti-discrimination religion clauses as the constitutional baseline.

Consistent with an understanding that extends back hundreds of years, the state argued that “the no-aid provision protects the religious liberty of taxpayers by ensuring that their taxes are not directed to religious organizations, and it safeguards the freedom of religious organizations by keeping the government out of their operations.”175Id. at 2260. As if this deeply-rooted Madisonian understanding were a fringe perspective, the Court dismissed allowing an “infringement of First Amendment rights” on the basis of what it characterized as “a State’s alternative view.”176Id. But this is no “alternative view.” The dangers of the politicization of religion, the resentments taxpayer funding of religious institutions may engender, and the pressure governmental oversight and regulation would naturally place on the church, were not lost on the founders.

Effectively dismissing this wisdom in a single paragraph, the Court justifies its decision by emphasizing how its prior cases have allowed programs that provide aid to religious organizations where “attenuated by private choices.”177Id. at 2261. It then goes on to conflate freedom from government interference—these “private choices” that are rightfully protected under the Free Exercise Clause—and a right to non-discriminatory government benefits—which is, to the contrary, in direct tension with a traditional understanding and reading of the religion clauses. It achieves this slight-of-hand by citing for support its precedents that have “long recognized the rights of parents to direct ‘the religious upbringing’ of their children.”178Id. Of course, the freedom to opt-out of a majoritarian government program never implied a right to demand that the government offer an alternative version of that program that is tailored to one’s particular tastes.

Yet, in Carson v. Makin this is precisely what the Court requires of the state of Maine. The program at issue there, as discussed previously, differed from Espinoza in that it had limited its applicability based on the substance of the educational content of a school rather than its religious status. The Maine tuition assistance program was available to parents wishing to send their children to private schools in sparsely populated areas of the state where local government does not operate its own secondary school. Funds were ineligible however, if the desired school “promotes a particular faith and presents academic material through . . . that faith.”179Carson v. Makin, 142 S. Ct. 1987, 2001 (2022). The state explained that the private school option was designed to offer a “rough equivalent” of the secular public schools available in more populous parts of the state. The Carson family, however, wanted to send their daughter to a private school with a “Christian worldview [that] aligns with their sincerely held religious beliefs.”180Id. at 1994. Under the Court’s new anti-religious discrimination reading, the state was now required to use taxpayer funds to accommodate the family’s religious tastes.

IX.  THE DEMISE OF THE STATUS/USE DISTINCTION

Unless a majoritarian democracy is structured to require unanimity, it is inescapable that some minority of the population will be unhappy with the substantive policy choices the government makes. As Alexander Tsesis has pointed out, “[there are] disagreements about the wisdom of myriad government programs, policies, statutes, and priorities.”181Alexander Tsesis, Government Speech and the Establishment Clause, 2022 U. Ill. L. Rev. 1761, 1771 (2022). A distinct policy choice to fund only private schools with an evidence-based curriculum, is, of course, bound to displease those who prefer a faith-based approach to education. However, a state may have many legitimate policy reasons for declining to fund religious education, and these reasons may be independent of a desire to adhere to a “stricter separation of church and state than the Federal Constitution requires.”182Carson, 142 S. Ct. at 1997. Most obviously, a government may conclude that an epistemological approach grounded in faith is in tension with a commitment to the scientific method. Its reasoning, in other words, may relate directly to its judgment as to how it will best fulfill its educational mission. The Court acknowledges that only private schools that “meet certain basic requirements” were eligible to receive the funds under Maine’s program.183Id. at 1993. Yet, somehow, four pages later, the Court characterizes it as “a neutral benefit program,” seemingly forgetting that the state established detailed criteria laying out just what attributes schools must have if it is to fund them.184Id. at 1997.

With Carson, the Court thus ratchets up its novel anti-religious-discrimination interpretation of the religion clauses to include substantive as well as status-based distinctions. As the Court explains, “the prohibition on status-based discrimination under the Free Exercise Clause is not a permission to engage in use-based discrimination.”185Id. at 2001. The former was at least arguably one step further removed from the kind of policy discretion essential for responsive democratic judgment––a discretion that informs the Court’s own government speech doctrine. In theory, status-based distinctions are also potentially indicative of a substance-free animus or discriminatory impulse against religion. But “use-based discrimination,” as the Court puts it, is just ordinary lawmaking. As preeminent constitutional historian Leonard Levy unequivocally concluded, “the fact is that no framer believed that the United States had or should have power to legislate on the subject of religion.”186Levy, supra note 7, at 121–22. Yet, perversely, under the Court’s new anti-religious-discrimination doctrine, states now must do so. As of 2022, the substantive educational content a state chooses not to expend its resources on is subject to the Court’s intrusive new religion clause rule.

Although those who want their children to receive a faith-based education are by no means precluded from making this choice, according to the Court the mere fact that they must pay for such education themselves (while the choice to utilize a secular private school would be supported by the state) exerts coercive pressure on their choice.187Carson, 142 S. Ct. at 1996. A failure to fund faith-based approaches to education does not just result in the natural disappointment felt by those in a democracy whose policy preferences do not go completely fulfilled, such failure to spend “ ‘penalizes the free exercise’ of religion.”188Id. at 1997. The implications of this conceptualization are quite stunning. The Supreme Court is effectively depriving democratic governments of their discretion to determine their spending priorities in one of the most consequential and democratically hard-fought domains: public education.

X.  THE LIMITING PRINCIPLE PROBLEM

Now, some might be inclined to see the concerns above as alarmist. Carson, after all, addresses just one case-specific state program. However, it is difficult to see the stopping point of the Court’s logic. The Court’s novel anti-religious discrimination rule lacks a limiting principle. In Trinity Lutheran, Roberts seemed at least mildly attuned to this potential concern by emphasizing the purportedly status-based nature of the discrimination. But, consistent with the Chief’s camel’s-nose-under-the-tent approach to doctrinal change, after Carson, any government program might become the next target of an allegation that it is discriminating against religion, and therefore violating the Free Exercise Clause. Under the Court’s newly expansive anti-religious-discrimination rule in Carson, simply not offering a comparable religion-based alternative to any secular state benefit presents a potential constitutional infraction. What might the future portend under such a regime? We might anticipate a kind of constitutionally mandated menu-based governance in which state resources must be shared equally among religious and non-religious options.

For religion, this vision may ultimately prove to be self-defeating. Government resources are limited, as is the tolerance of the populace for ever higher taxes. Constitutionally mandated religious alternatives will become costly and will ultimately be subjected to the same type of politicized, compromise-laden, and messy process that is at the heart of all spending decisions in a democratic polity. As a constitutionally imposed unfunded mandate, religion would lose its prized independence.

Granted, the anti-religious-discrimination impulse is understandable. As mentioned, the new anti-religious-discrimination Free Exercise principle is no doubt rooted to some extent in a broader concern that religion, religious belief, and religious practitioners have been unfairly mistreated and disparaged by a secular society. However, those who would like to see an expanded role for religion in the public sphere, even those who support taxpayer subsidies of religion in certain areas, may ultimately find themselves deeply troubled by the ultimate consequences of the slippery-slope the Court has erected. The Court’s radical re-interpretation of the religion clauses may prove self-defeating, for government and religion. Without a limiting principle, it cannot be contained.

XI.  THE PUBLIC FORUM DOCTRINE TO THE RESCUE

All of this is not to say that there is no place for a constitutional principle prohibiting, in some contexts, discrimination against religion. Just because the religion clauses demand the opposite, does not mean there are not other settings in which religion may be protected from government. The Free Exercise Clause, most obviously, protects religion by forbidding targeted prohibitions on free exercise. But those who would like to see a greater presence of religion in the public sphere have an alternative constitutional hook to grasp. Another First Amendment doctrine, derived from the Free Speech Clause, does include an anti-discrimination rule that serves to protect against forms of religious discrimination.

The public forum doctrine prohibits the government from imposing viewpoints, and sometimes content-based, discrimination on private speech; and the Court has concluded that this restriction extends to religious expression.189See Lamb’s Chapel v. Ctr. Moriches Union Free Sch. Dist., 508 U.S. 384 (1993); Rosenberger v. Rector & Visitors of Univ. of Va., 515 U.S. 819 (1995). The Court reminded us most recently of this principle in Shurtleff v. City of Boston. The case involved a government program that over time allowed hundreds of private groups to fly their flags outside of Boston’s city hall. The city, however, denied such opportunity to a Christian group. In ruling against Boston on free speech grounds, the Court explained that “[w]hen a government does not speak for itself, it may not exclude speech based on ‘religious viewpoint’; doing so ‘constitutes impermissible viewpoint discrimination.’ ”190Shurtleff v. City of Boston, 142 S. Ct. 1583, 1593 (2022).

If the government speech doctrine can be said to be pro-discrimination—rooted in the understanding that a democratically accountable government must have the ability to be selective as to what policy messages it will, or will not, send—its cousin, the public forum doctrine, forbids discrimination in government-owned, funded, or controlled forums. Once a government opens property or a program up to the broader public, establishing a public forum—or to a select portion of the public for more circumscribed purposes, establishing what the Court has called a “limited” public forum—it may not discriminate on the basis of “content” (or merely “viewpoint” where the public forum is limited).191See, e.g., McCullen v. Coakley, 573 U.S. 464 (2014); Christian Legal Soc’y v. Martinez, 561 U.S. 661 (2010). Government speech and public fora may be conceived as two poles on opposite ends of a single continuum, with government having almost complete control over what is or is not expressed on the government speech end and minimal power to restrict or dictate expression on the other.192See Wayne Batchis, The Government Speech-Forum Continuum: A New First Amendment Paradigm and Its Application to Academic Freedom, 75 N.Y.U. Ann. Surv. Am. L. 33 (2019). The critical point is that the public forum doctrine, unlike the Court’s new anti-religious-discrimination rule, has a clear limiting principle: a government program must fall within the definition of a public forum (or limited public forum) for religion to receive protection from discrimination. Otherwise, a policy choice, and any messages associated with it—unless, of course, it “prohibits” or “respects an establishment of religion”—would be treated as government speech.

Thus Justice Thomas, in his Espinoza concurrence, begs the question when he criticizes the “strict separation” approach to the religion clauses for the way it would ostensibly remove “the entire subject of religion from the realm of permissible governmental activity . . . operat[ing] as a type of content-based restriction . . . .”193Espinoza v. Mont. Dep’t of Revenue, 140 S. Ct. 2246, 2266 (2020) (Thomas, J., concurring). Religion would not be banished from the public sphere under the traditional, straight-forward reading of the First Amendment advocated in this article; the impact of the Religion Clauses would simply turn on whether or not the government itself is speaking or whether its “activity” was creating a public forum. As the Court has repeatedly reaffirmed, government speech is all about content-based restrictions on speech—both the discriminating choices government makes as to what messages it will or will not devote its resources to, and the structural boundaries enshrined in the Constitution that may similarly shape, limit, or direct its expressive choices. A public forum, on the other hand, does demand that the government avoid content or viewpoint-based discrimination.

Indeed, this is where a misguided concurrence by Justice Kavanaugh in Shurtleff gets it so wrong. He seeks to supplement the majority’s opinion by emphasizing that a government does not merely violate the Establishment Clause by treating religion equally to other government beneficiaries. Equal (favorable) treatment of religion by government is permissible under certain circumstances in accordance with both the public forum doctrine and the “play in the joints” religion clause principle long accepted by the Court.194See supra note 61and accompanying text. But in startlingly broad terms, Kavanaugh goes on to assert that “a government violates the Constitution when (as here) it excludes religious persons, organizations, or speech because of religion from public programs, benefits, facilities, and the like.”195Shurtleff, 142 S. Ct. at 1594 (Kavanaugh, J., concurring). Confined to public fora, such a statement of the rule may be true; but outside of these confines, such a rule would impose constitutionally illimitable unfunded expressive mandates on governments, potentially violating anti-establishment principles and the core premise of the government speech doctrine along the way.  

In contrast, drawing a boundary between a public forum—where religious expression would be protected from discrimination—and government speech—where government would have the option and sometimes obligation to discriminate against religious messages––is remarkably consistent with the inherent tension built into the Religion Clauses. It brings the First Amendment full circle, connecting the Speech and Religion Clauses in a logically coherent way. Governments may establish public fora to facilitate private speech, as governments have a rich and important history of doing, whether it is a public park, the after-hours use of public facilities for associational meetings, or a public university’s student organization program. These are venues that may be owned and maintained by the state, but as public forums, the speech that occurs there is protected and not presumed to represent the government’s voice. As a result, such expression, even if overtly religious, is unlikely to raise traditional Establishment Clause concerns; it is unlikely to generate the impression of government endorsement or to have a coercive effect. Government, in other words, would be free to facilitate free exercise values in a way that is cognizant of Establishment Clause values, while at the same time acting consistently with free speech doctrine.

CONCLUSION

The Supreme Court’s decision in Carson v. Makin is the third in a trilogy of cases dramatically upending the meaning of the First Amendment’s Religion Clauses. Beginning with Trinity Lutheran in 2017, and followed by Espinoza in 2020, the Court has moved forward with an aggressive project of transforming the Religion Clauses into a broad anti-religious-discrimination clause. In this paper, I traced this doctrinal devolution and argued that the Court’s novel reinterpretation is deeply misguided.

By design, the Religion Clauses require discrimination—religion is to be treated differently from non-religion in a broad range of state action. The Establishment Clause targets religion specifically by prohibiting laws that intermingle government with religion in an impermissible manner—whereas intermingling government with other philosophies, worldviews, institutions, or sets of values is a perfectly ordinary and generally acceptable aspect of policymaking. The Free Exercise Clause likewise forbids government interference with religious practice—whereas government is certainly free to, and is indeed expected to, interfere with a vast range of non-religion related conduct deemed to violate criminal and civil law. Religion, in short, is different. The contemporary Supreme Court, however, has inverted this most basic insight.

The Court’s new Religion Clause jurisprudence is also on a collision course with its burgeoning government speech doctrine. That doctrine recognizes that in a democratic polity, every policy choice entails paths not chosen. Government must be able to select its own message, and in turn, discriminate against those messages it wishes not to communicate. While there are some exceptions to the rule—specifically, the boundaries set by the Constitution itself—the default is governmental discretion, tempered only by accountability at the ballot box. Thus, the Religion Clauses, in conjunction with the government speech doctrine, mandate that government either be free to speak with its own voice when it is acting within the “play in the joints” in between the two clauses, or treat religion distinctly—to discriminate—when required to do so under the Constitutional mandate of establishment or free exercise.

To say that discrimination is required under the Free Exercise or Establishment Clause is not to say discrimination against religion is always constitutional. Outside of the Religion Clauses, other protections against objectionable discrimination remain. The Court’s public forum doctrine, for example, protects free expression of religion from content-based discrimination when the government itself is not speaking. Adverse or favored treatment by government targeting religion generally, particular religious sects, or particular religious practices, may be impermissible. But when it comes to the Religion Clauses, these are circumstances in which the discrimination provides evidence that the government is either prohibiting free exercise or making a law respecting an establishment of religion. The discrimination itself is not the Constitutional offense. Acting as if it is, is highly misleading. The Religion Clauses provide nothing like the broad anti-discrimination mandate today’s Court imputes to them. They demand the opposite.

The heart of the Court’s recent trilogy of cases—from Trinity Lutheran v. Comer to Carson v. Makin—is a constitutional mandate that government subsidize religious speech to avoid a Religion Clause “discrimination” claim. It is a command that government express ideas it may not wish to express. The Court’s reimagining of its Religion Clauses jurisprudence is inconsistent with the First Amendment’s original meaning, anti-democratic, and in direct tension with the government speech doctrine.

97 S. Cal. L. Rev. 367

Download

* J.D., PhD.; Professor and Director of Legal Studies, University of Delaware, Department of Political Science and International Relations.

Social Media Censorship: Is It Protected by the First Amendment?

The Internet has become an indispensable tool that many rely on for information, marketing, commerce, and connections. The wide-reaching data accessible by a quick Google search retrieves information that would otherwise take days to find in a library. Society has become greatly dependent on this access to information, allowing individuals to “make quicker, more-informed decisions”1Jaana Anderson & Lee Rainie, 3. Fifty-Fifty Anecdotes: How Digital Life Has Been Both Positive and Negative, Pew Rsch. Ctr. (July 3, 2018) (quoting Andie Diemer) https://www.pewresearch
.org/internet/2018/07/03/fifty-fifty-anecdotes-how-digital-life-has-been-both-positive-and-negative/ [https://perma.cc/Q2EC-6JMZ].
and “connect [with] anything or anyone at any given moment.”2Id. However, “[o]ur greatest strength can also be our greatest weakness, and our human relationship with technology is a classic testament to that.”3Id.

Social media platforms have grown immensely over the past decade, with many using social media as their primary source to learn about current events and breaking news.4The Supreme Court has acknowledged that many individuals rely on social media websites as their “principal source[] for knowing current events, checking ads for employment, speaking and listening in the modern public square, and otherwise exploring the vast realms of human thought and knowledge.” Packingham v. North Carolina, 582 U.S. 98, 107 (2017). A study conducted in 2020, at the height of the COVID-19 Pandemic and the U.S. presidential election, revealed that a staggering 53% of adults in the United States use social media as their news source either “often” or “sometimes.”5Elisa Shearer & Amy Mitchell, News Use Across Social Media Platforms in 2020, Pew Rsch. Ctr. (Jan. 12, 2021), https://www.pewresearch.org/journalism/2021/01/12/news-use-across-social-media-platforms-in-2020 [https://perma.cc/8JTF-4EHP]. With Facebook being the most popular, a subset of 36% of Americans regularly use the site to learn about news, out of a total of 68% of Americans who are on Facebook generally.6Id. With X (formerly known as Twitter) closely behind, 15% of Americans regularly refer to the site as their news source, out of a total of 25% of Americans registered on X generally.7Id.

Social media platforms are owned and operated by private entities that currently have full control over the implementation of algorithms and other content-moderation policies.8See NetChoice, LLC v. Att’y Gen., 34 F.4th 1196, 1203 (11th Cir. 2022) (explaining that “with minor exceptions, the government can’t tell a private person or entity what to say or how to say it”). Due to the influential role of social media, especially with younger generations,9Shearer & Mitchell, supra note 5 (stating that those in the age group of 18–29 make up 47% and 39% of the total users that receive news from Instagram and X, respectively). there has been increased tension regarding a state’s ability to regulate the interaction between platforms and their users through content moderation.10Shari Claire Lewis, Circuit Split over States’ Right to Regulate Social Media Platforms, Law.com (Aug. 15, 2022, 10:00 AM), https://www.law.com/newyorklawjournal/2022/08/15/circuits-split-over-states-right-to-regulate-social-media-platforms [https://perma.cc/96XW-B6VE]. Platforms are resisting state intervention by asserting First Amendment claims, stating that platforms have a right to free speech and that content-moderation decisions are equivalent to protected speech.11Id. Currently, there is a circuit split between the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Fifth and Eleventh Circuits addressing this issue, in which Florida and Texas enacted statutes that placed major restrictions on social media platforms’ ability to freely censor or moderate content.12Id. Censorship is defined as the “suppression or prohibition of words, images, or ideas.” Julie Horowitz, The First Amendment, Censorship, and Private Companies: What Does “Free Speech” Really Mean?, Carnegie Libr. of Pittsburgh (Mar. 9, 2021), https://www.carnegielibrary.org/the-first-amendment-and-censorship [https://perma.cc/QD5V-UUM3]. Specifically, both statutes include nondiscrimination provisions, in addition to other disclosure provisions, that would prohibit platforms from censoring based on viewpoint. The key tension arises between the purported First Amendment rights of the private entities that run social media platforms and the ability for users to express and be exposed to diverse viewpoints through “one of the most important communications mediums used in [the] [s]tate[s].”13NetChoice, LLC v. Paxton, 49 F.4th 439, 454 (5th Cir. 2022).

Both Florida and Texas argue that the statutes prohibiting viewpoint discrimination are constitutional because they do not restrict protected speech, and even further, that platforms should be subjected to common carrier obligations.14See Lewis, supra note 10. Common carriers have heightened obligations, in which certain private entities are required to serve the public. The plaintiffs, representing large social media platforms, instead argue that content-moderation decisions require the use of editorial judgment,15Id. Editorial judgment is a term that describes an entity engaging in First Amendment–protected speech through expressive actions. which has been interpreted as protected speech in past cases.16See, e.g., Miami Herald Publ’g Co. v. Tornillo, 418 U.S. 241, 258 (1974). The importance of providing meaningful restrictions on platforms’ censorship policies has become even more evident with the recent acquisition of X, exemplifying that a change in management in such relied-on commodities could potentially be devastating to the access of information.17A critic mentioned that X’s new content-moderation policy seems “wholly dependent on what side of the bed [new owner Elon] Musk wakes up on.” Musk has chosen certain controversial users to be allowed back on the site, including Andrew Tate and Donald Trump, while disallowing others such as Alex Jones. Caleb Ecarma, We’re Officially in the Elon Musk Era of Content Moderation, Vanity Fair (Nov. 21, 2022), https://www.vanityfair.com/news/2022/11/elon-musk-twitter-content-moderation [https
://perma.cc/89GF-YTJM].
Due to the increased uncertainty regarding the status of the law and the importance of providing direction and uniformity on interpreting the Constitution,18See Biden v. Knight First Amend. Inst. at Columbia Univ., 141 S. Ct. 1220, 1221 (2021) (Thomas, J., concurring); NetChoice, LLC v. Paxton, 142 S. Ct. 1715, 1716 (2022) (Alito, J., dissenting). a petition for a writ of certiorari was filed by Texas and granted by the Supreme Court. Opening briefs were filed on November 30, 2023, and oral argument occurred on February 24, 2024.19NetChoice, LLC v. Paxton, SCOTUSblog, https://www.scotusblog.com/case-files/cases/net
choice-llc-v-paxton/ [https://perma.cc/W6VD-WTKN].

One of the main difficulties in resolving this issue is the continuum of control and expression that platforms exert when moderating content. This Note will argue that the ultimate determination of whether moderation decisions rise to protected speech will be fact dependent. Platforms that lack a clear target audience and only censor objectively obscene content (rather than subjective beliefs) do not convey a message through their content moderation that amounts to protected speech. Most large platforms, such as X, Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok20See generally X, https://twitter.com [https://perma.cc/9XGM-Y4RA]; Facebook, https://
http://www.facebook.com [https://perma.cc/TT82-6VX7]; Instagram, https://www.instagram.com [https:
//perma.cc/XJE6-SL4B]; TikTok, https://www.tiktok.com [https://perma.cc/LF25-FPNQ].
would be included within this category. Conversely, this Note will argue that platforms that clearly moderate content based on political or other personal beliefs, and express these choices with their users, will have First Amendment protections as the moderation expresses a message equivalent to speech. By conveying subjective viewpoints through a platform’s content moderation, potential users can make informed decisions about whether to opt-in to the platform’s services. Groups that fall within this second category include Vegan Forum, ProAmerica Only, and Democratic Hub.21See generally Vegan Forum, https://www.veganforum.org [https://perma.cc/426R-P897]; ProAmerica Only, https://proamericaonly.org [https://perma.cc/Z26P-5GT2]; Democratic Hub, https://www.democratichub.com [https://perma.cc/FWP5-FT9A].

Alternatively, with a view on consistency and the best overall policy outcome, there is an argument that Congress should designate social media platforms as common carriers in order to regulate this area similarly to the telecommunications industry.22See Communications Act of 1934, 47 U.S.C. § 151. This Note primarily provides a doctrinal analysis of common carrier law and editorial judgment and applies the analysis to the conflicting arguments raised in the circuit-split cases. While the current debate is highly politicized, with the perceived motive of the Florida and Texas statutes to stop platforms from censoring conservative views,23Press Release, Off. of the Tex. Governor, Governor Abbott Signs Law Protecting Texans from Wrongful Social Media Censorship (Sept. 9, 2021), https://gov.texas.gov/news/post/governor-abbott-signs-law-protecting-texans-from-wrongful-social-media-censorship %5Bhttps://perma.cc/P3SQ-HFKZ%5D (“[T]here is a dangerous movement by social media companies to silence conservative viewpoints and ideas”); News Release, Fla. Gov’t, Governor Ron DeSantis Signs Bill to Stop the Censorship of Floridians by Big Tech (May 24, 2021), https://www.flgov.com/2021/05/24/governor-ron-desantis-signs-bill-to-stop-the-censorship-of-floridians-by-big-tech/ %5Bhttps://perma.cc/2RKT-CSZ3%5D (stating that “by signing [the Florida statute] into law, Florida is taking back the virtual public square” and preventing “censor[ship] if [one] voice[s] views that run contrary to [the platforms’] radical leftist narrative”). this Note argues that analyzing these issues with a neutral, doctrinal-focused lens will provide a positive long-term solution.

Part I of this Note will establish an example of a current content-moderation policy exercised by a large social media platform. Part II will provide a doctrinal analysis concerning First Amendment law, specifically referring to the development and current state of “common carriers” and “editorial judgment.” Part III will identify the state and federal statutes that underly the circuit-split litigation. Part IV will discuss the facts and the conflicting rationales of the current circuit-split cases. This Note will also highlight the most persuasive arguments and their application to the doctrinal analysis of First Amendment law provided in Part II. Then, Part V will speak to the significance of resolving this issue and how it will affect social media platforms, states, and the greater community. A conclusion will follow.

 

Facebook v. Sullivan: Public Figures and Newsworthiness in Online Speech – Article by Thomas E. Kadri & Kate Klonick

Article | Freedom of Speech
Facebook v. Sullivan: Public Figures and Newsworthiness in Online Speech
by Thomas E. Kadri* & Kate Klonick†

From Vol. 93, No. 1 (November 2019)
93 S. Cal. L. Rev. 37 (2019)

Keywords: Speech, Content Moderation

 

Abstract

In the United States, there are now two systems to adjudicate disputes about harmful speech. The first is older and more established: the legal system in which judges apply constitutional law to limit tort claims alleging injuries caused by speech. The second is newer and less familiar: the content-moderation system in which platforms like Facebook implement the rules that govern online speech. These platforms are not bound by the First Amendment. But, as it turns out, they rely on many of the tools used by courts to resolve tensions between regulating harmful speech and preserving free expression—particularly the entangled concepts of “public figures” and “newsworthiness.”

This Article offers the first empirical analysis of how judges and content moderators have used these two concepts to shape the boundaries of free speech. It first introduces the legal doctrines developed by the “Old Governors,” exploring how courts have shaped the constitutional concepts of public figures and newsworthiness in the face of tort claims for defamation, invasion of privacy, and intentional infliction of emotional distress. The Article then turns to the “New Governors” and examines how Facebook’s content-moderation system channeled elements of the courts’ reasoning for imposing First Amendment limits on tort liability.

By exposing the similarities and differences between how the two systems have understood these concepts, this Article offers lessons for both courts and platforms as they confront new challenges posed by online speech. It exposes the pitfalls of using algorithms to identify public figures; explores the diminished utility of setting rules based on voluntary involvement in public debate; and analyzes the dangers of ad hoc and unaccountable newsworthiness determinations. Both courts and platforms must adapt to the new speech ecosystem that companies like Facebook have helped create, particularly the way that viral content has shifted normative intuitions about who deserves harsher rules in disputes about harmful speech, be it in law or content moderation.

Finally, the Article concludes by exploring what this comparison reveals about the structural role platforms play in today’s speech ecosystem and how it illuminates new solutions. These platforms act as legislature, executive, judiciary, and press—but without any separation of powers to establish checks and balances. A change to this model is already occurring at one platform: Facebook is creating a new Oversight Board that will hopefully provide due process to users on the platform’s speech decisions and transparency about how content-moderation policy is made, including how concepts related to newsworthiness and public figures are applied.

*. Resident Fellow, Yale Law School; Ph.D. Candidate, Yale University.

†. Assistant Professor of Law, St. John’s University School of Law; Affiliate Fellow, Yale Law School Information Society Project. Authors listed alphabetically. Portions of this Article build on research and ideas featured in Thomas Kadri’s and Kate Klonick’s doctoral dissertations and as well as an essay published in the Emerging Threats series organized by the Knight First Amendment Institute at Columbia University. See Kate Klonick, Facebook v. Sullivan, Knight First Amend. Inst. (Oct. 1, 2018), https://knightcolumbia.org/content/facebook-v-sullivan [https://perma.cc/W9R8-7K9B]. The authors are grateful for the friends and colleagues whose insights improved this piece, especially Jack Balkin, Molly Brady, Aaron Caplan, Danielle Citron, Jennifer Daskal, Evelyn Douek, Sarah Haan, Margot Kaminski, Daphne Keller, Jennifer Rothman, Robert Post, Rory Van Loo, Morgan Weiland, and colleagues at the Yale Information Society Project. Additional thanks for the opportunity to present this work and receive excellent feedback at the Cornell Tech Speed Conference, Loyola Law School Los Angeles Faculty Workshop, Washington School of Law Faculty Workshop, University of Colorado Boulder Silicon Flatirons Conference, UCLA Social Media Conference, and Yale Freedom of Expression Conference. A very special thank you to David Pozen, whose excellent, patient editing and thoughtful feedback consolidated this Article’s central arguments and encouraged new ones.

 

 

View Full PDF

Fool Me Once: Regulating “Fake News” and Other Online Advertising – Article by Abby K. Wood & Ann M. Ravel

From Volume 91, Number 6 (September 2018)
DOWNLOAD PDF


Fool Me Once: Regulating “Fake News” and other Online Advertising

Abby K. Wood[*] and Ann M. Ravel[†]

A lack of transparency for online political advertising has long been a problem in American political campaigns. Disinformation attacks that American voters have experienced since the 2016 campaign have made the need for regulatory action more pressing.

Internet platforms prefer self-regulation and have only recently come around to supporting proposed transparency legislation. While government must not regulate the content of political speech, it can, and should, force transparency into the process. We propose several interventions aimed at transparency. First, and most importantly, campaign finance regulators should require platforms to store and make available (1) ads run on their platforms, and (2) the audience at whom the ad was targeted. Audience availability can be structured to avoid privacy concerns, and it meets an important speech value in the “marketplace of ideas” theory of the First Amendment—that of enabling counter speech. Our proposed regulations would capture any political advertising, including disinformation, that is promoted via paid distribution on social media, as well as all other online political advertising. Second, existing loopholes in transparency regulations related to online advertising should be closed. Congress has a role here as it has prevented regulatory agencies from acting to require disclosure from so-called dark money groups. Finally, government should require that platforms offer an opt-in system for social media users to view narrowly-targeted ads or disputed content.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction

I. Documenting and Framing the Problem

A. Fake News is Political Advertising

B. How Disinformation Can Weaken Democracy

II. First Amendment, Political Speech, and
Choice of Regulator

A. Constitutional Framework for Campaign Advertising Regulation

B. Choice of Regulator

1. Industry Self-Regulation and Co-Regulation

2. Government Regulation

III. Our Current, Insufficient, Regulatory
Framework for Online Political Advertising

IV. Constitutionally-Permissible Regulations
to Address Disinformation Advertising

A. Improve Transparency

1. Require Platforms to Keep and Disclose all Political Communications and Audiences

2. Close the Loophole for Disclaimers in Online Ads

3. Eliminate Donor Anonymity for LLCs and
501(c) Organizations

B. “Nudge” and Educate Sharers and Viewers

C. Considerations for Platform Efforts to Reduce Disinformation

V. Task Assignment and Action Across Multiple Jurisdictions

A. Federal Agency Competencies and Task Assignment

B. The Role of State and Local Government

Conclusion

APPENDIX

 

 

Introduction

During the 2016 Presidential campaign, the average adult saw at least one “fake news” item on social media.[1] The people distributing the articles had a variety of aims and operated from a variety of locations. Among the locations we know about, some were in Los Angeles, others in Macedonia, and, yes, others were in Russia. The Angelenos aimed to make money and sow chaos. The Macedonians wanted to get rich. And the Russians aimed to weaken Hillary Clinton’s candidacy for president, foster division around fraught social issues, and make a spectacle out of the U.S. election.[2] To these ends, the Russians mobilized trolls, bots, and so-called “useful idiots,” along with sophisticated ad-tracking and micro-targeting techniques to strategically distribute and amplify propaganda.[3] The attacks are ongoing.[4]

Cheap distribution and easy user targeting on social media enable the rapid spread of disinformation. Disinformative content, like other online political advertising, is “micro-targeted” at narrow segments of the electorate, based on their narrow political views or biases.[5] The targeting aims to polarize and fragment the electorate. Tracing the money behind this kind of messaging is next to impossible under current regulations and advertising platforms’ current policies. Voters’ inability to “follow the money” has implications for our democracy, even in the absence of disinformation. And of course, an untraceable flood of disinformation prior to an election stands to undermine voters’ ability to choose the candidate that best aligns with their preferences.

Untraceable online political advertising undermines key democratic values, and the problem is exacerbated by disinformation. Scholars and analysts are writing about fake news and the failures of platforms to contain it. Some have focused on evaluating the impact of fake news on voter behavior and beliefs[6] or on political agenda setting.[7] Others focus on legal fixes, such as direct platform regulation by restoring (or modifying) a statute that exempts platforms from liability arising from others’ speech on their platforms.[8] Still others offer media-based solutions[9] or emphasize that platforms are the only entities who can, or should, correct the problem while staying within the existing First Amendment framework.[10] A few are ready to re-interpret the First Amendment in light of the new imbalance between speakers and listeners.[11] Yet other scholars have suggested that platforms should be regulated in a way that fits a pre-existing regulatory framework, such as the way we regulate media organizations[12] or public utilities.[13]

We add to this conversation that fake news and other online political advertising should be addressed with existing regulatory tools developed for older kinds of political advertising. Our argument begins with the simple observation that fake news is not “news.” It is political advertising. Like other kinds of political advertising, fake news seeks to persuade, mobilize, or suppress voters and votes. And like other kinds of political advertising, it involves costs for production and distribution. Fake news is an especially confusing type of political advertising for two reasons. It is native, meaning that it poses as editorial or reporting content, and it is disinformative. Fake news is not the only format in which disinformation advertising occurs. Disinformation advertising is also distributed in the form of memes, videos, and images. The common themes among disinformation advertising are that it is false, it aims to affect people’s political opinions and the probability that they will turn out to vote, and the advertiser pays to produce or distribute it.

The First Amendment provides clear limits on the government’s ability to regulate politically-related messaging. However, the Constitution allows for more regulation than currently exists for political speech on social media. Courts have repeatedly upheld campaign finance disclaimers and disclosure of the funding behind political spending. At a minimum, the sources of disinformation advertising should be transparent.

Our campaign finance laws are riddled with gaps and loopholes, which exclude a large portion of online advertising from disclosure and disclaimer requirements. The lack of transparency for online ads facilitates violations of the ban on foreign spending in U.S. elections,[14] and even where the source of the political communication is domestic, the public’s inability to “follow the money” may impact voters’ ability to make the right choice for them.[15] Adding disinformation to the mix further damages voters’ ability to make the choice that best aligns with their preferences. While regulations responding to this problem have been proposed, the agency tasked with regulating is unlikely to enact anything in the near term.

The government should not rely upon the platforms to regulate themselves. While each platform is making proposals to increase transparency for online political advertising, the lack of transparency originated with the platforms, and for at least a decade, it appeared to serve their profit interests. Nevertheless, constitutional limits mean that only the platforms are able to implement some potential fixes. If platforms are unable or unwilling to act in those areas, government cannot step in.

In this Article, we propose three regulations to increase transparency of political advertising and begin to address the problem of disinformation advertising. Our proposed regulations are all modest extensions of the way the federal government already regulates political advertising, and they will help make visible the sources of political messaging online. Part I of this Article explains disinformation advertising as it existed in 2016—unregulated, from unknown sources, and aimed to fragment our politics—and how it creates a problem for our democracy. In Part II, we explain the constitutional framework in which additional regulation would occur. We also explain the tradeoffs between regulation by government and regulation by platforms. In Part III, we discuss the loopholes in our existing regulatory system for online political advertising. The loopholes have enabled disinformation advertising to be distributed without regulation even when paid for by a foreign government. Part IV proposes several regulatory solutions that could reduce disinformation advertising and, short of reducing it, would make enforcement and following the money much easier. We also suggest guidelines for platform self-regulation to attack the problem. A brief review of regulations in several foreign jurisdictions, which concludes Part IV, demonstrates that social media platforms are already willing and able to comply with stricter regulations in other countries. Finally, in Part V, we consider task assignment within the federal bureaucracy, as well as actions taken at other levels of government. Federal inaction on the threat posed by Russian disinformation is not the whole story; rather, disinformation campaigns have the potential to impact city and state elections too, causing local government to begin regulating platforms for their own elections.

I.  Documenting and Framing the Problem

“Fake news,” or fabricated news articles or blog posts that are intentionally false or misleading, have received a lot of attention since the 2016 U.S. presidential election. Fake news articles are distributed via social media to drive web traffic to websites.[16]

We argue that the problem of “fake news” is better framed as a problem of native political advertising and that the phenomenon benefits from lack of campaign finance transparency online. In this Section, we describe the fake news phenomenon, tie fake news to campaign advertising in ways that allow for regulatory traction, and explain how disinformation presents challenges to democracy.

A.  Fake News is Political Advertising

Fake news stories inundated social media networks during the 2016 election, sometimes generating millions of comments and reactions from users.[17] Sophisticated disinformation is persuasive because it looks like credible journalism.[18] But fake news is not “news.” It is native advertising and should be regulated as such.[19] In the same way that commercial advertisers seek to persuade by projecting a particular image of a product, purveyors of political disinformation ads use fabricated information to persuade voters that a candidate is untrustworthy or unfit for office,[20] or to sow division among Americans.[21] During the 2016 presidential election, many disinformation ads were strategically targeted at select groups to either encourage or suppress votes.[22] Persuasion and targeting are the cornerstones of advertising. We therefore reject the label “fake news” and adopt “disinformation advertising.”

Plenty of disinformation advertising was produced in the United States. Indeed, a company called “DisInfoMedia,” which was the source of several fake news articles during the election, lists its address in suburban Los Angeles.[23] But the public’s attention has been captured by fake news placed by foreign actors, especially Russians aiming to intervene in U.S. elections. Russia’s attack occurred (and continues) on social media platforms.[24] Expert estimates of the number of shares of Russian-sourced “fake news” on Facebook vary widely, from over 100 million to “into the billions.”[25] These estimates include content ranging from fake news articles to generic ideological statements from foreign sources with no disinformative content. The fact is, lack of disclosure of online political spending means that no one captured the entire universe of political ads. The best evidence we have so far, from a user-generated ad collection of 5 million ads by 10,000 Facebook users,[26] suggests that 86% of the groups running paid ads on Facebook in the last six weeks before the election were suspicious groups (53%),[27] astroturf movement groups (17.1%),[28] and questionable news outlets (15.8%).[29]

For a small fee, anyone can distribute content and generate impressions on social media.[30] Using Facebook as an example, political ads, including disinformation ads, could be promoted, or boosted, for a fee, just like any other ad.[31] Boosted ads appear higher on users’ newsfeeds. When boosting an ad, the creator selects which audience to target using filters like location, age, gender, or even interest. Some disinformation advertisers used Facebook’s “Custom Audiences” feature, which allows for much more sophisticated targeting than other methods, because it allows advertisers to place cookies on the browsers of those who click on their ads and then re-target people who clicked through.[32] Russian meddlers used Custom Audiences to create websites and Facebook Pages with political sounding names that focused on socially divisive issues such as undocumented immigrants or African-American activism. The operatives later re-targeted people who had visited their sites with further political messaging.[33] The Trump campaign, itself, also used Custom Audience’s “diabolical little brother,” Lookalike Audiences, to target people that “look like” their custom audiences, based on their online habits.[34] If these tools remain available to advertisers in future elections, it is likely that disinformation advertisers will use them in the future as well.

Russia also deploys tens of thousands of “sock puppets,” trolls, cyborgs, and bots to amplify and distribute their messages. Mass posting causes hashtags to trend, amplifying the bots’ messages.[35] Social media users can easily build a large social media following using cheap third-party services to promote their Twitter or Facebook accounts.[36] Helping distribute the propaganda are so-called “useful idiots,” American social media users who unwittingly support the Russian disinformation campaign by reacting to, commenting on, and sharing the sensational stories with their social media networks.[37]

There is spending at many steps of this process, including in salaries and production costs to make the content in the first place.[38] Some of this spending triggers the existing rules. Once aggregate expenditures reach the threshold to trigger registration, the advertiser is subject to regulations like any other group regulated by the Federal Election Commission (“FEC”). While communications distributed on the Internet for free are generally exempt from FEC regulations, many political ads—including many disinformation ads—are placed into our newsfeeds for a fee and, therefore, are subject to regulation under existing rules.[39] We also know that some of the advertisers violated the ban on foreign expenditures in connection with a U.S. election because they were paid for by foreign sources, providing another example of existing rules applying to disinformation ads.[40] Disaggregated ads and audiences, disappearing ads, and other difficulties would complicate enforcement efforts, even for a motivated agency. The problem is data availability to establish the fact of the violation and facilitate enforcement. Therefore, at a minimum, effective enforcement of existing rules requires retaining data and advertising content. And in order to allow groups to counter disinformation against them or their preferred candidates, we must also retain the audience targeting information, which we discuss in Part IV.

* * *

Media organizations are exempt from campaign finance regulations. Even if we are correct that “fake news” is better thought of as advertising, is it also “news” that should be exempted from the rules? The FEC lacks a coherent regulatory approach to implementing the Federal Election Campaign Act’s press (or “media”) exemption from campaign finance regulation.[41] The exemption allows legitimate media sources to avoid registration with the FEC and compliance with campaign finance regulations. The Commission walks a tightrope in interpreting the exemption. If it defines “press” too broadly, the exemption will swallow the statute and allow all advertisers to claim exemptions as “press entities.” With an overly narrow definition, however, the FEC would run afoul of the First Amendment by burdening the speech of legitimate news media.[42]

In determining whether an item should be subject to the press exemption, the FEC asks whether the entity is “a press entity,” and “whether [it] is acting in its ‘legitimate press function.’”[43] To determine whether a publication or organization is a press entity, the FEC asks “whether the entity in question produces on a regular basis a program that disseminates news stories, commentary, and/or editorials.”[44] When analyzing whether a press entity is acting “in its legitimate press function,” the FEC looks at “(1) whether the press entity’s materials are available to the general public, and (2) whether the materials are comparable in form to those ordinarily issued by the press entity.”[45] The Commission does not analyze whether the materials are produced by trained journalists, whether the organization employs a fact checker or conducts fact checking functions, or any other typical indicia of a legitimate media organization. As such, the test may be too lax: because it does not consider indicia of traditional journalism when granting the exemption, the Russian government propaganda outlet, Russia Today, was deemed a “legitimate press entity” by the FEC.[46]

Even under this minimalist test, the FEC would not consider much of the disinformation on social media to be the product of a “press entity.”[47] Take the Denver Guardian as an example. It existed only briefly before running a story about a murder-suicide committed by “an FBI agent believed to be responsible for the latest [DNC] email leaks.”[48] Its registered address is actually a parking lot.[49] The site had ads, Denver’s weather, and no more than two news stories during its entire existence.[50] Similarly, Facebook Pages that disseminated content and memes, like the “Blacktivist” page, would not be considered press entities. They were created in the months before the election and claimed to be activists, not journalists.[51]

B.  How Disinformation Can Weaken Democracy

Lack of transparency for online political advertising pre-dates the 2016 election, but the disinformation attacks have given the problem new urgency. Disinformation attacks threaten democracy, because:

[F]actual knowledge about politics is a critical component of citizenship, one that is essential if citizens are to discern their real interests and take effective advantage of the civic opportunities afforded them. . . . [K]nowledge is a keystone to other civic requisites. In the absence of adequate information neither passion nor reason is likely to lead to decisions that reflect the real interests of the public.[52]

Disinformation advertising works like other kinds of propaganda, by sowing doubt about institutions.[53] Here, the propaganda uses a fake media source to undermine trust in the media. The flood of false, hyperbolic, repetitive, and divisive information is difficult for its viewers to resist over time and can distort the information environment.[54] Voters are left trying to select the candidate that is right for them, or to form opinions about policy, in the face of a “media fire hose which has diluted trusted sources of information . . . .”[55] As Tim Wu explains, “[w]hen listeners have highly limited bandwidth to devote to any given issue, they will rarely dig deeply, and they are less likely to hear dissenting opinions. In such an environment, [information] flooding can be just as effective as more traditional forms of censorship.”[56]

Scholars have argued that an informed electorate is a constitutional value and that we should recognize a canon of “effective accountability” which relies upon an informed electorate.[57] Many voters are poorly informed about the candidates and issues on the ballot. Most also lack a basic understandings of government structure and policies.[58] Indeed, the “limited effects” found by Alcott and Gentzkow of disinformation in the 2016 election may be floor effects that result from the already low level of information among the electorate.[59] Of course, uninformed voters are not unteachable: some studies show that providing voters with information increases voter competence, or their ability to vote in line with their preferences.[60] More generally, voters have informational workarounds. They use heuristics, or informational shortcuts, to help them reach a decision.[61] Uninformed voters can also take cues from elites they trust. If the cues from elites, or the information they provide, are disinformative, voters are left worse off than if they had not paid attention in the first place. Corrections to disinformation do not help much, either. It is hard to “un-ring the bell” of misinformation—the effects of misinformation remain even after corrections are issued and even when they are issued right away.[62] Moreover, corrections can be misremembered and serve to further entrench the faulty information.[63]

Disinformation campaigns share a targeting strategy with more run-of-the-mill political advertising on social media: microtargeting. Microtargeting small groups of voters with content that appeals to their pre-existing biases can deepen the democratic problem by subdividing the electorate, creating an endless number of potential cleavages among voters. As Elmendorf and Wood warn:

[I]t seems reasonable to fear that as broad, public appeals to the common good and national identity are supplanted by microtargeted appeals to the idiosyncratic beliefs, preferences, and prejudices of individual voters, voters will come to think of politics as less a common project than an occasion for expressing and affirming their narrow identities and interests. . . . Voters with out-of-the-mainstream and even abhorrent beliefs (such as overt racism) may find their beliefs legitimated and reinforced by micro-targeted messaging.[64]

Microtargeting stands to fragment the electorate into countless groups. When disinformation is microtargeted, each group has its own set of unreliable “facts” about our civic life. Moreover, because more extreme voters are more easily targeted for turnout or suppression, a vast, moderate center is left out of the discussion of issues surrounding the election, undermining a key First Amendment value that campaigning enhances the “marketplace of ideas.”

Online “echo chambers” are asymmetric and more common among conservatives than liberals.[65] Cass Sunstein proposes that a diversity of information and views are necessary to fix the problem of group polarization.[66] But diversifying one’s information is harder than it seems, even if voters want to do so. Platform algorithms are designed to give users more of what they have liked in the past, creating so-called “filter bubbles.”[67] The more frequently a social media user clicks on disinformation advertising or visits a hyperpartisan website, the more frequently similar content will be promoted on their Facebook newsfeeds or Internet search auto completions.[68]

In sum, disinformation hurts our democracy by undermining our faith in our institutions, weakening voter competence, and splintering the electorate. The nature of social media, with its affinity groups and algorithms, makes it likely that disinformation will echo among one’s social media networks and that countervailing information will not reach the user. The lack of transparency in online political advertising has long been a problem, and the recent disinformation attacks have made shedding light on online political advertising more urgent.

II.  First Amendment, Political Speech, and Choice of Regulator

Political opinions and information posted online are indisputably political speech and thus protected by the First Amendment. Activities that are less obviously “speech” have also been constitutionalized by courts deregulating in the name of the First Amendment. This includes political expenditures. The “constitutionalization” of campaign finance has implications for regulation of online political advertising, including disinformation advertising. Government regulation of online political advertising, including disinformation advertising, is on firmest constitutional ground when it requires disclosure of who is speaking to whom, when, and about what. A lot of the remaining responsibility for reducing disinformation on social media falls to social media platforms. This is because doing so involves banning or restricting speakers or their speech—actions that would be unconstitutional for the government to require. Yet here’s the rub: however much the platforms claim they want to self-regulate, their short-term profit motives suggest platforms will be, at best, unreliable and inconsistent self-regulators.

Here, we explain the current state of play in First Amendment jurisprudence and discuss the merits of platform self-regulation and government regulation.

A.  Constitutional Framework for Campaign Advertising Regulation

First Amendment protections for political speech are strong in the United States, enhanced by conservative-libertarian rhetoric among First Amendment scholars.[69] Campaign finance cases analyze regulations differently depending on whether they ban speech or merely burden it in some way. Courts apply strict scrutiny to content regulation of political speech.[70] Several legislative attempts to regulate the content, amount, or source of political speech have met their demise under this standard.[71] In order to survive strict scrutiny, the government must show that a regulation is necessary to serve a compelling state interest and is narrowly drawn to achieve that end.

The Court has granted “compelling interest” status to a limited set of campaign and election-related interests that governments try to protect via regulation. Preserving fair and honest elections and preventing foreign influence in our elections are compelling government interests.[72] Courts have acknowledged that the government “indisputably” has a compelling interest[73] in protecting election integrity and have upheld narrowly-tailored government regulations of some kinds of speech around elections. For example, the Court has upheld restrictions on our right to political speech in physical proximity to an election place such as requiring a physical setback for political activities near polling places, and banning campaign signs and clothing that advocates for a candidate or initiative near people who are voting.[74] And in Bluman v. FEC, the Supreme Court voiced strong views that the government has a compelling interest in limiting direct campaign contributions by foreign nationals, though the language is somewhat uncertain about other involvement of foreign nationals.[75]

When it comes to the government’s interest in preventing fraud on the electorate, the Court has stopped short of calling the interest “compelling,” saying that it “carries special weight during election campaigns when false statements, if credited, may have serious adverse consequences for the public at large.”[76] Nevertheless, given the existing case law permitting restrictions in space, if not yet time (campaign season), the possibility remains open (though admittedly quite distant) that a narrowly-tailored prohibition on fraudulent online political speech could survive constitutional scrutiny where prior prohibitions on fraudulent speech have failed.[77] In the meantime, the Court has said that the answer to false speech is not a blanket rule either allowing or prohibiting censorship. Rather, the answer to false speech is counter-speech.[78]

Where government regulation of political speech falls short of a ban or a limit, as is the case with campaign finance disclosure and disclaimer regulations, it is subject to exacting scrutiny. To survive exacting scrutiny, the government must identify an overriding[79] or sufficiently important[80] government interest, which is substantially related,[81] or even narrowly tailored,[82] to meet it.[83] The primary government interest supported by the disclosure regulations the Court upheld in Citizens United, McConnell, and Buckley, is the “informational benefit,” which is about improving voter competence by “[e]nabling the electorate to make informed decisions and give proper weight to different speakers and messages.”[84]

The Buckley Court fleshed out the assumption, saying, “[d]isclosure provides the electorate with information as to where political campaign money comes from and how it is spent by the candidate in order to aid the voters in evaluating those who seek federal office.”[85] It allows voters to place each candidate in the political spectrum more precisely than is often possible solely on the basis of party labels and campaign speeches. The sources of a candidate’s financial support also alert the voter to the interests to which a candidate is most likely to be responsive and thus facilitate predictions of future performance in office.[86]

Social science findings support the Buckley court’s hypothesis that disclosure informs voters. In a series of experiments, Dowling and Wichowsky have shown that campaign finance transparency affects voter opinion.[87] Adam Bonica has shown, using campaign finance data from decades of elections and legislator voting records at the state and federal level, that campaign finance contributions are as strong a predictor of legislative behavior—as informative, in other words—as incumbent legislators’ prior votes.[88] We also have evidence that voters demand disclosure and learn from a group or candidate’s decision to not disclose.[89]

While there is little judicial guidance on the constitutionality of government actions we propose in Part IV, the courts should uphold government efforts to educate voters and social media users about disinformation and fact-checking. Similarly, the courts would likely uphold a regulation requiring platforms to provide an opt-in or opt-out system allowing social media users to control whether they view content previously flagged as false.[90]

* * *

Under the existing jurisprudential framework, government’s main involvement to combat disinformation advertising will be related to transparency. But it may be time to re-visit the foundations of our First Amendment jurisprudence. The cases fleshing out First Amendment protection of political speech are a relatively late addition to our constitutional jurisprudence, and like all law, they were created in a specific historical context.[91] The jurisprudence developed at a time when listeners were plentiful and speech less so. Recent Supreme Court majorities have interpreted the First Amendment to protect speakers, not listeners. Our transparency proposals fit this existing framework comfortably. But should government be able to do more to protect listeners from the “flood” of disinformation advertising before elections?

The Internet platforms themselves lack a coherent theory of the First Amendment.[92] Platforms are not merely a venue for debates in the “marketplace of ideas,” in which truth can eventually win out. The truth stood little chance against the volume of disinformation advertising and other false political messaging that flooded the “marketplace” in the weeks leading up to the 2016 election.[93] Nor are the platforms exclusively supportive of speakers’ personal autonomy to say whatever they want—another theory of the First Amendment. Terms of service for even the most libertarian platforms forbid behavior that is offensive, despite not being illegal. Platform users are speakers and listeners; and platforms should want to balance their interests. Unfortunately, only speakers pay platforms for their services, leading platforms to cater their terms of service to speakers rather than listeners. The platforms also have not taken a collectivist, or deliberation-enhancing approach to speech on their platforms, under a theory that the First Amendment should promote political engagement and public discourse.[94] At best, they have adopted an inconsistent amalgam of these ideas.[95]

As Volokh explains, with the advent of “cheap speech” online, intermediaries are weakened.[96] Speakers, freed from editorial gatekeeping, have become less trustworthy. Listeners are better able to select speakers that affirm, rather than challenge, their ideologies; and political advertisers are better able to target them “to make arguments to small groups that they would rather not make to the public at large.”[97] Tim Wu argues that First Amendment jurisprudence should adapt to our current conditions, in which speakers are plentiful and listeners receive so much messaging that it is harder for speakers to “break through” than ever.[98] In the age of cheap speech, the flood of disinformation advertising distributed by bots works to dilute human political speech, biasing the playing field in favor of machine-generated echoes of highly amplified, reckless, or even malevolent, speakers. Policing non-human speakers would help to promote a “robust speech environment surrounding matters of public concern.”[99] This collectivist-oriented shift would allow for government to at least backstop the platforms in their efforts to root out disinformation advertising.

Like Hasen, we see that a headwind may be building against government regulation requiring transparency of online political advertisements, even where the regulation would stop disinformation.[100] Nevertheless, prior libertarian efforts to build a case for a “substantial overbreadth” doctrine would be less likely to succeed in the wake of the 2016 election campaign. Regulators can now show demonstrable damage,[101] intent by meddlers (both foreign and domestic) to mislead and to affect elections, and involvement by two entities with little First Amendment protection: foreigners and non-humans.[102]

B.  Choice of Regulator

Negative market externalities justify regulation. Market externalities are often conceived of as negative effects from market activity on our environment or public health—say, from air pollution. Here, the market activities are platforms chasing profits without exercising gatekeeping or transparency responsibilities, and the externalities are costs borne by social media users in their roles as voters and participants in civic life. The platforms have so far not internalized the cost that their ad placement systems impose.

Here we discuss the relative merits of industry self-regulation and government regulation, each within their own constitutionally permissible spheres of action.

1.  Industry Self-Regulation and Co-Regulation

It is not a forgone conclusion that government must be the main regulator to address the disinformation advertising problem. Platforms have long resisted government regulation. Nate Persily has argued that “the principal regulator of political communication will not be a government agency but rather the internet portals themselves.”[103] The platforms are well situated, technologically, to minimize the amount of disinformation advertising that reaches their users and have already experienced some success in that regard.

Facebook and Twitter were the locations of most of the “attacks” in the 2016 election, so this Article focuses on them. After dragging their heels,[104] both companies have taken steps to prevent future attacks, actions that are also aimed at heading off government regulation. The platforms have also continued to experience disinformation attacks.

The problem with leaning on platforms to self-regulate is their conflicts of interest and political vulnerabilities that push them away from strong action to combat the problem. Platforms make money from advertising, including disinformation advertising. The more ads they sell, the more content that is promoted on their platforms, the scarcer the space for ads, and the more they can charge per ad. The more users that click through on any pay-per-click ad, the higher the platforms’ ad revenues. Disinformation advertising headlines are refined to attract the most clicks, accruing money for the platforms in the process. The presence of bots and other non-human accounts inflates the number of users on the platforms, increasing the amount they can charge to sell ads to all users, not just to foreign interlopers in our democracy. While bots and disinformation advertising can degrade the user experience and damage long-term revenues of the platforms, their short-term bottom line increases because of advertising and inflated user counts.

Platforms are also politically vulnerable. After Mark Zuckerberg initially announced the self-regulatory measures Facebook plans to implement, within a week, he had softened his stance and had begun to “both-sides” the issue, saying “[b]oth sides are upset about ideas and content they don’t like.”[105] Professor Zeynep Tufekci, who researches online disinformation and authoritarianism, was quick to point out that his reaction reflected a common fear of social media companies: that they be depicted as “anti-conservative.”[106] In other words, the social media companies will feel pressured to over-correct: even though the disinformation advertising that currently circulates online is overwhelmingly anti-liberal or pro-conservative, the political vulnerability of the platforms means that they will under-address the problem. Their political vulnerability leads them to be an unreliable self-regulator.

To the extent that the platforms do self-regulate, their current efforts are still far from the typical model of industry self-regulation or co-regulation. Industry self-regulation requires an industry-level organization that regulates its members by setting rules and standards about how they should conduct their business.[107] Industry self-regulation is almost never “pure” self-regulation, but involves a nexus to a government co-regulator. Government agencies provide legal backstops to the self-regulation negotiated by industry participants, along with imposition of civil or criminal penalties on violators.[108] Co-regulation stands the best chance of success when certain conditions exist. Most importantly, industry actors must be committed to the purpose of the regulation.[109] The government must also be able to extract information from industry—here, the platforms—as to how the self-regulation efforts are succeeding. The state requires both “expertise and capacity to assess the performance of nongovernmental regulators; and those nongovernmental regulators must face a credible threat that their public overseers will assume regulatory jurisdiction if they do not meet their obligations.”[110]

An analogy to co-regulation by an industry group closely related to the issue at hand illustrates industry self-regulation with government backstops. The Digital Advertising Alliance runs an opt-out program from online advertisements based on cookie-tracking.[111] The industry enforcement process consists of confidential review of complaints by a committee, followed by board-level censure, membership suspension or expulsion, referral to the Federal Trade Commission or law enforcement, and publicity for non-compliance.[112] By comparison, the platforms’ initial offerings to address disinformation advertising are paltry. It took Facebook over a year to even suggest it would reach out to other companies to “share information on bad actors and make sure they stay off all platforms.”[113] We are a long way from effective and comprehensive industry self-regulation or co-regulation. Therefore, we must consider ways the government can constitutionally, and effectively, regulate in this area.

2.  Government Regulation

Government regulation is coordination-facilitating and symbolically important. It facilitates coordination between industry members in mundane, but important, ways. For example, government can require platforms to collect information and provide it to the government or directly to the public in a uniform format. Standardized reporting allows the public, watchdog groups, journalists, and scholars to compare across platforms and over time in their data analysis. Moreover, shared information across platforms would be useful for platforms wanting to ban identifiable bad-actors who use the same accounts to buy, place, and promote ads. Government regulations also facilitate coordination through disclosure and audits to ensure compliance.

Government action in the realm of online political advertising is also symbolically important. In areas of national security and elections, signaling matters. The fact that our policymakers have been so quiet in the face of disinformation advertising and multiple strong statements by national security experts sends important signals to the attackers and the public. The attackers learn that they may continue with impunity. The public may perceive that government does not take the attacks seriously.

Government regulation also matters because law has expressive value.[114] Law itself has special gravity, and adopting a policy into law signals the importance of the policy to the government. Codifying a policy can affect citizen expectations and behavior.[115] It also signals that all members of a regulated industry must play by the same rules, an important rule-of-law value. In deciding on a regulatory approach, policymakers should keep in mind that

[p]olicy choices do not just bring about certain immediate material consequences; they also will be understood, at times, to be important for what they reflect about various value commitments—about which values take priority over others, or how various values are best understood. Both the material consequences and the expressive consequences of policy choices are appropriate concerns for policymakers.[116]

Therefore, even in areas of regulation where the industry could self-regulate (or co-regulate with government), sometimes the government should still act to signal its seriousness in protecting important values.

Government is constitutionally prohibited from anything resembling censorship, and moreover, the platforms are in a better position to experiment with interventions that address the disinformation problem head-on. Nevertheless, where, as here, the platforms’ incentives and the public’s social welfare are misaligned in a way that would prevent the platforms from self-regulating (or prevent them from credibly committing to a self-regulation scheme), government should do what it can within constitutional limits, to help re-align actors’ incentives.

All of this political disinformation flooded into social media at a time when the FEC lacked an effective framework for regulating any political advertising online, regardless of content. When political advertising occurs on television, cable, satellite, and radio, government disclosure requirements are comprehensive, and compliance is high. Due to gaps in the regulatory regime and clever lawyering by political attorneys, the same advertisement that would be subject to disclaimer and other transparency requirements on television can go without them if it instead appears online. We explain these gaps in Part III.

III.  Our Current, Insufficient, Regulatory Framework for Online Political Advertising

In the years leading up to the 2016 election, voters learned about the inadequacy of the federal campaign finance regulatory framework to handle the coming flood of money and advertising, both online and off. Insiders, such as former FEC lawyers quoted in the media, called campaign finance in the United States the Wild West and reported that [c]andidates and political groups are increasingly willing to push the limits . . . and the F.E.C.s inaction means that theres very little threat of getting caught.[117] All of the regulatory and institutional weaknesses that drove this kind of reporting are even more extreme in the narrow regulatory regime we consider here—that of online advertising. Online political advertising differs from older forms of political advertising in important ways and deserves a regulatory framework that accounts for the differences. First, it is more likely to be disguised as informational content, or “native.” Second, it is more likely to contain disinformation. Third, it is more likely to be untraceable by the public or candidates hoping to speak to the same audience. And fourth, it is much cheaper. All of these features matter to shaping a regulatory framework that helps the public trace the source of the (dis)information they view online and the government keep foreign influence out of our elections. In this Part, we describe the current regulatory framework and its gaps.

Public Communications.” Most FEC transparency requirements attach to “public communications.” Public communications include messages displayed on broadcast television, in print, on billboards, etc. It also includes all committee websites and emails whenever a committee sends more than 500 “substantially similar” messages.[118] Importantly, the current definition excludes Internet ads “except for communications placed for a fee on another person’s or entity’s website.”

Disclaimers. The law requires disclaimers for many kinds of political advertisements. They say “Paid for by the XYZ State Party Committee and authorized by the Sheridan for Congress Committee,” or “Paid for by the QRS Committee (www.QRScommittee.org) and not authorized by any candidate or candidate’s committee.”[119] On broadcast, cable, and satellite political messages, the FEC requires disclaimers on all public communications (1) made by a political committee, (2) expressly advocating for the election or defeat of a “clearly identified” candidate, or (3) soliciting contributions.[120] Disclaimers are also required on (4) electioneering communications, which are publicly distributed communications that refer to a “clearly identified candidate for Federal office” and are distributed sixty days or fewer before a general election or thirty days or fewer before a primary.[121] When we apply these four disclaimer triggers to Internet communications, regulatory coverage and disclaimer requirements decrease substantially. The first three triggers, for communications from political committees, containing express advocacy or solicitations, apply only where the communication is “placed for a fee.”[122] The fourth, electioneering communications, is completely inapplicable, because electioneering communications are defined to exclude political messaging on the Internet.[123]

As noted in Part I, in the weeks leading up to the election, well within the electioneering communications window, disinformation ads explicitly naming presidential candidates generated more attention than news articles from leading national newspapers. Among the disinformation ads that did not expressly advocate for the election or defeat of a candidate, many still mentioned candidates by name or showed their images. Were they on broadcast, satellite, or cable, our regulations would have required disclaimers as electioneering communications. Because they were placed online, we do not know who paid for them.[124]

When we combine the current definition of political communications with the current disclaimer requirements, we end up with the following: A paid ad distributed via social media (on the Internet) must carry disclaimers like any other public communication if it advocates for the election or defeat of a clearly identified candidate. However, anything posted for free, like a blog post, a Tweet, or even disinformation that one generates personally from their personal profile or page, requires no disclaimer, even if it mentions a candidate by name right before the election, and even if it is amplified by a paid “bot army” or purchased “shares” on Facebook.

Many communications placed online for a fee—which would otherwise require disclaimers—have not had them. Presumably, the advertiser is either willing to disregard the regulatory requirements, is spending below the threshold requiring regulatory compliance, or would claim an exemption under the “small items” or “impracticable” exceptions to disclaimer requirements.[125] The small items exception applies to communications on physical items, such as bumper stickers, buttons, and pens, which were considered too small to bear a disclaimer.[126] The impracticable exception applies to communications in skywriting, water towers, and clothing, where it would be too difficult to include a disclaimer.[127] However, applying these exceptions to political advertising would have been disingenuous. Because of landing pages on click-through political advertisements, it has never truly been impracticable for an advertiser to provide a disclaimer. They could always have provided one at the landing page. That fact did not stop platforms from asking the FEC whether the exceptions apply to character-limited ads on their platforms. In 2011, the FEC could not decide whether Facebook ads with fewer than 200 characters of text could qualify under either exception;[128] a 3-3 vote resulted that was long interpreted as an exemption.[129] The FEC has since clarified that a disclaimer is required, but they could not agree on the rationale.[130] The FEC has also recently failed to decide whether nonconnected political committees[131] may use Twitter without placing a disclaimer on their Twitter profiles.[132] This opinion gives the green light to groups that want to hide behind Twitter handles and not reveal even the group’s website or physical address.

Disclosure. In addition to gaps in our disclaimer requirements, our disclosure rules are also fraught with holes and exceptions that have led to untraceable money pumping through our elections.[133] Campaigns, party committees, and PACs must all submit regular reports to the FEC, disclosing their contributions and expenditures.[134] However, since Citizens United, over half a billion dollars has flowed through 501(c) tax-exempt non-profits, which are typically organized as 501(c)(4) or 501(c)(6) “social welfare” organizations, to either make independent expenditures or to support groups that do.[135] These “dark money” groups are not required to publicly disclose their donors.[136] Funds can be donated to 501(c)s by individuals, corporations (including LLCs), unions, and anyone seeking anonymity—including foreign sources. (Foreign spending “in connection with an election” is illegal, but would be easy to do via these avenues, as we discuss below.)[137]

The groups do disclose their contributions to the IRS. But with an audit rate of 1% for tax-exempt non-profits, the IRS is unlikely to investigate the sources behind donations to so-called “dark money” organizations, even where they use their resources to spread disinformation.[138] Congress has prohibited the Securities and Exchange Commission from using appropriated funds to draft or implement rules requiring the corporations it regulates to disclose political spending.[139]

Transaction-level disclosures are important. In order to aid enforcement on broadcast, cable, satellite, and radio ads, the Federal Communications Commission (“FCC”) requires reporting of the financial details of a transaction purchasing an ad, as well as the station, time, and programming during which the ad ran. The ads themselves, while not required to be retained by broadcasters, are captured by the public in all the ways the public records live programming. There is currently no requirement at the federal level that online political ads or the data around their placement be retained, making enforcement virtually impossible.

Foreign influence. Some political disinformation ads may also violate the FEC’s ban on spending by foreign nationals “in connection with any federal, state, or local election in the United States” and making any disbursement for an electioneering communication.[140] The restriction was upheld in Bluman v. Federal Election Commission.[141] At least some disinformation ads violate the ban on foreign spending for independent expenditures. Independent expenditures advocate for the election or defeat of a “clearly identified candidate” in express terms.[142]

Of course, some disinformation ads are merely “issue ads.” They seek to influence voters by shifting public perception, but do not advocate for the election of or defeat of any particular candidate or even mention a candidate. Under our current regulatory framework, a hostile foreign government can disseminate divisive information about fraught social issues or spread disinformation about a candidate without violating American campaign finance law, even if they are placed right before the election.[143]

In sum, because of outdated loopholes, we face the reality that disinformation advertisements, which often mention or display candidate names and images and would be considered electioneering communications if placed elsewhere, are distributed online with no disclaimers, little disclosure, and, sometimes, with foreign money. Online advertising has become exponentially more important for political campaigns since the FEC adopted its outdated regulations in 2006, and it will become the most important way for politicians to communicate with voters in the very near future.[144] Excluding a large portion of online advertising from disclosure and disclaimer regulations is problematic, particularly in light of the studies reviewed in Part II suggesting that disclaimers and disclosures provide information that affects voter decisions, and the court’s longstanding belief that using disclosure to inform voters is a compelling government interest.

IV.  Constitutionally-Permissible Regulations to Address Disinformation Advertising

We now turn to our proposals. We focus on transparency, education, and “nudges” that government can constitutionally implement. The reforms we propose would reach any political advertising that is placed, promoted, or produced for a fee. Viral disinformation without paid shares or re-tweets, memes made by individuals at home for free and posted to personal social media sites, and similar low-cost and low-volume activity, would not be subject to the regulations we propose.

We recognize that defining which advertisements deserve regulation is a persistent and sticky problem in campaign finance regulation. Our definition has two main components: (1) cost and (2) intent to influence peoples’ votes. Political ads cost money to produce, post, or disseminate—including payments for microtargeting, any off-platform payments to “bot farms,” and paid “likes” and “shares” for distribution. Political ads also aim to influence elections. Evidence that an ad aims to influence the election, rather than merely discuss “issues” is a particularly thorny category. The current line between an ad aiming to influence the election and one merely discussing “issues” includes “express advocacy” or, within a certain window before the election, reference to a clearly identified candidate. This line is hard to police, and the window is meaningless in the online setting, in which an ad can persist over time.

An example may help illustrate the definitional challenge. Suppose that a group called “Liberals Against Forced Motherhood” has spent more than the minimum threshold on political advertising and is registered with the FEC. Consider three scenarios.

1. Suppose the group posts a meme online and pays Facebook to promote it in the newsfeeds of its followers. The text of the meme says, “Hands off our birth control!” With no other words or imagery, this would be considered an issue ad under the current federal rules, no matter when it runs, and would not require a disclaimer.

2. Now suppose the group posts the meme and pays Facebook to promote it in the newsfeeds of its followers, and the text of the meme overlays a photograph of a Republican presidential candidate. Under the current federal rules, that advertisement would not be subject to disclaimer requirements unless it ran right before the election, during the “electioneering communications” window, because the photograph shows a “clearly identified candidate.” Of course, given the nature of social media, it can be posted well before the “electioneering communications” window opens, and members of the group can continue sharing and circulating it, disclaimer-free, right before the election.

3. Finally, suppose the group posts a meme online and pays Facebook to promote it in the newsfeeds of its followers, and the text of the meme says “Hands off our birth control! Vote against Candidate X!” Under the current federal rules, this meme requires a disclaimer no matter when it is posted because it contains “express advocacy.”

Now change the facts. What if the meme is posted “for free” on the group’s Facebook Page, and fake Facebook users have been paid, off-platform, to share it? The group does not pay Facebook for promotion, but the ad circulates, nevertheless. The current federal rules have been interpreted in a way that would not require disclaimers on any of them. But we believe this interpretation, made in the days before bots and fake “shares,” should be updated to account for our new reality.

Finally, consider one more distributional change. Suppose now that, instead of paying Facebook to promote only to page subscribers, the group pays Facebook to promote the ad to anyone who “looks like” its subscribers and any women who are between the ages of 18–45, who have a college education, who are White, who “like” Planned Parenthood, and who live in swing states. Does this kind of micro-targeting turn the issue ad in the first scenario into a political ad? We think it does—particularly the “swing state” targeting. Even if disclaimers should not be required, the ad itself should be retained so that targeted users can know who is attempting to persuade them.

Before social media, most ads appeared on television, radio, or in print. They were fewer in number, limited in time, and targeted large groups of the electorate. In that context, it was easier to police the line between electioneering advertising and issue speech. In light of the realities and challenges of political advertising online, issue speech has become so politicized and so microtargeted that we need to have a national conversation on where to draw the line.

Our proposal follows. It is modest, it is constitutional, and it will not solve the problem of online disinformation. It is, however, a necessary and important step in the right direction. After discussing our proposal, we briefly provide self-regulatory considerations for platforms wanting to take real steps to reduce the quantity of disinformation advertising on their platforms.

A.  Improve Transparency

As more political advertising moves online, without regulatory changes, the likelihood that voters see untraceable ads increases. Without transparency, we cannot “follow the money” behind political advertising we see online. Most relevant to the world of disinformation advertising, we cannot know how much of the messaging we see online is foreign-funded or distributed. It took almost a year for Facebook to make public some of the foreign-funded ads it displayed to its users. If online advertising, including disinformation advertising, were subject to transparency regulations, we would have seen these funding sources in real time.

In order to subject online political advertising to disclaimer and disclosure requirements, the groups producing large amounts of it should be required to register with election administrators, just as they do when making political expenditures offline.[145] A regulation adopting disclosure and disclaimer rules for online advertisements would be a step in the right direction. We also propose a repository to facilitate real-time transparency of all online political ads as well as ex post enforcement of campaign finance rules. In this Section, we discuss three transparency-related regulatory changes for online political advertising.

1.  Require Platforms to Keep and Disclose all Political Communications and Audiences

Government should require political advertisers on large social medial platforms to save and post every version of every political communication placed online, whether video, print, or image, and whether placed “for a fee” or not. The communications should be placed on a dedicated and easy-to-locate page on the campaign’s or group’s website or user page on the platform, as well as on a dedicated page created by the platform. The communications should be stored in their entirety, and they should be posted along with a uniform set of data stored in a uniform format for easy analysis and comparison across campaigns, across platforms, and over time. The FEC should also retain this data, for longer term storage, and to ensure that it exists even when platforms change or cease to operate.

In addition to the communication itself, the online political advertising repository should contain the following data: when the communications ran; how much they cost to place and promote; candidates to which the communications refer; contested seat/issues mentioned; targeting criteria used; number of people targeted; and a platform-provided Audience identifier (“Audience ID”). For example, if a communication was aimed at women Facebook has identified as Democrats (from their profile pages), who “like” the show “Blackish” and also “like” Black Lives Matter, that information should be disclosed with the communication. Similarly, if the advertiser used outside consultants or internal data to generate a list of names, including through Custom or Lookalike Audiences on Facebook or similar services on other platforms, the advertiser must provide an Audience ID that will enable groups to engage in “counter speech” to the same audience. The Audience ID will be linked within the platform to a list of user names, but the platform should not disclose the audience names to anyone but the FEC.

The repository we propose is simply an improved version of the Political File for television commercials. The design of the Political File is outdated,[146] and our political advertising repository will better serve our current technological abilities and democratic needs, with which political advertisers already comply, and which reveals their targets.[147] Of course, political advertisers will protest that this disclosure burdens their speech by requiring that they disclose their microtargeting strategies. The objection is weak, considering they reveal targets via the Political File already. Crucially, the Political File contains targeting information, because the broadcaster, time of day, and programming are all disclosed. A media company’s audience at a certain time of day for a certain program is a particular set of people the advertiser is targeting.

Consider an example to illustrate how television advertising already embeds audience information. When a campaign runs a television ad during an 8:30 p.m. airing of “Blackish” on the ABC affiliate in the St. Louis market—all of which is information that is disclosed in the Political File—the campaign’s targeting strategy is revealed.[148] Online targeting can be “narrower,” in that the communications can be targeted to a smaller group of people, but just because online targeting strategies are more precise does not grant the speakers more First Amendment protection. The size of the audience is irrelevant to the constitutional question of whether or not targeting criteria should be disclosed. If anything, communications targeting a narrower audience may be more damaging to civic values because they are aimed at suppressing or mobilizing voters, rather than making broad persuasive appeals. Narrow targeting may therefore deserve less, rather than more, constitutional protection. Finally, posting targeting criteria and Audience IDs for online ads facilitates counter speech in the same way that disclosure of the date, time, station, and program in which a television ad runs facilitates counter speech to the same audience.[149]

The repository is particularly helpful when it comes to enforcement. Advertisers peddling disinformation—particularly those located abroad—have little incentive to make truthful and timely disclosures and disclaimers. Penalties occur long after the election after all. The current enforcement mechanism is triggered with a complaint to the FEC. It is a purely reactive system, and it relies on a complainant actually seeing the offending content. The advertising repository we propose facilitates decentralized enforcement by allowing groups to flag disclaimer violations after they occur. It is therefore crucial that the repository hold communications for a reasonable length of time. Television stations and cable and satellite companies are required to maintain the Political File for two years. The Honest Ads Act, a Senate bill introduced in 2017—which calls for a repository—would require platforms to retain the communication for four years.[150] Facebook’s current advertising archive holds ads for seven years. Maintaining the repository for the duration of the campaign plus a reasonable amount of time post-campaign is important.[151]

It is also important that reporting be coordinated across all online platforms. Platforms and political advertisers must use a uniform reporting format for all advertisers and distributors to report their activity. Gone are the days of handwritten and scanned forms, like we see in the Political File. Platforms can offer repository reporting and storage as a service to ad buyers and distributors, and reporting can happen as soon as the ad begins to appear in users’ feeds. Regulators, researchers, civil society watchdogs, and data journalists can analyze the data, act based on it, and report to the public the current state of affairs in online political advertising. And yes, opposing campaigns can run counter-messaging based on it, just as they can with disclosures to the Political File for television.

These transparency requirements should also have the effect of reducing the incentives to produce disinformation advertising and other any divisive advertising microtargeted at small subsets of the population. Microtargeting is not, in itself, bad. But modern day campaigns are best able to target extreme voters. Microtargeting skews the demographics of the voting population away from the district itself and contributes to elite political ignorance about the political preferences of constituencies.[152] As individual microtargeting possibilities increase, campaigns and groups will want to give slightly different messages to different people. Indeed, one particular ad buy containing disinformation advertising (and paid for by Russians) was aimed in exactly this way, targeting people who had expressed interest in “LGBT community, black social issues, the Second Amendment, and Immigration.”[153] If advertisers are required to post every version of every ad on the same site, along with targeting information, voters could detect when a group is trying to “divide and conquer” parts of the electorate. The message will reach voters via informational intermediaries. Opposition researchers can use their opponents’ divisive strategies against them. Smart data analysts can create tools that voters can use to see what their newsfeed would look like with a different configuration of “likes” and information. A user who sees ads in favor of guns, against abortion, and in support of Republican candidates could use the tool to see how her feed would look if she lived in a different zip code, “liked” Planned Parenthood and Everytown, or identified herself as a Democrat on her profile. Knowing the kind of advertising (and disinformation) our fellow voters receive can help aid deliberation in democracy.[154]

i.  Triggering Conditions

Which online messages should be subject to transparency rules? Three, non-exclusive options are possible: (1) the traditional bright line rule of candidate or ballot initiative mentions; (2) a more-easily automated rule of identifying political content by targeting; and (3) classifying the advertisers as political or not, gating their access to the platforms for advertising buys, and requiring repository storage of everything they run. We think all three can be deployed together, where any ad that fits any of the three rules would be included in the repository.[155] Inclusion in the repository does not mean that disclaimers and disclosure are required. That is a separate determination to be made based on a loophole-free version of our existing regulations and described more fully in Section IV.C.

 a.  References to Candidates or Ballot Propositions

The cleanest regulatory line tracks the current regulatory requirements for disclaimers in other contexts: ask whether the ad advocates for the election or defeat of a clearly identified candidate or ballot initiative; or whether the ad mentions or shows a candidate or proposition and airs within a certain specified time before the election. We believe an ad belongs in the repository if it mentions or shows a candidate or issue any time after a candidate declares her candidacy or the issue is approved for the ballot. Given that disinformation advertising preceded the 2016 election by more than a year, we believe this modest temporal expansion for electioneering communications is wise given the realities of campaigning. We also believe that tying the expansion to declarations of candidacy and ballot qualification—when campaigning heats up—helps its chances against a First Amendment challenge.[156] Our proposal is also gameable, encouraging groups to place as many ads as they can without repository capture before their preferred candidate declares, in hopes that they will still be circulating as the election approaches. Nevertheless, without more research into the realities of online political messaging over time, our proposal is as far as we think policymakers can confidently go within the bounds of the First Amendment.

Facebook already monitors ad content in order to minimize the amount that violates its terms of service.[157] It prohibits or restricts advertising for tobacco, drugs (illegal or prescription), weapons, adult content, “sensational content” (“[a]ds must not contain shocking, sensational, disrespectful, or excessively violent content”), misleading or false content, and many other categories that the platform already tries to identify and reject before it goes live as an advertisement. The advertising review process—until the post-2016 disinformation advertising political maelstrom—was entirely automated, though Facebook has begun to include humans in advertising review. Our broader point is that reviewing ads for mentions of candidates and political issues is not difficult, particularly with human involvement.[158]

As a back-up method, the platforms should require advertisers to indicate whether the ad mentions a candidate. The platforms can attach penalties (refuse to sell ad space, raise prices, temporarily suspend accounts, report to government regulators) on advertisers who lie about the content of their ads. A system that is based on ad content will require spot checks and a way for advertisers to object to their inclusion in the repository as well as for viewers to report whether an ad that should contain a disclaimer actually does.

 b.  Political Targeting Categories

Another triggering criteria would be easy for social media companies to automate. We can require ad disclaimers and inclusion in the repository when an ad is targeted at explicitly political groups or contains “suspect classes.” Targeting categories might include political parties; “likes” or “follows” of political parties, candidates, issues, or groups that have parties, candidates or issues in the group’s name (like “Texans for Hillary” or “Minnesotans Against Abortion”); a racial category combined with any other listed criteria; and other similar categories. Even if this is the only trigger, the likelihood that a consumer advertisement would be swept up in a repository requirement is probably slim, as consumer data is not very predictive of political persuasion and not very useful for campaigns.[159]

 c.  Identify Political Ad Content by the Speaker (and Know the Speaker)

Facebook has a political advertising sales and operations team—indeed, it has teams “specialized by political party, and charged with convincing deep-pocketed politicians that [Facebook does] have the kind of influence needed to alter the outcome of elections.”[160] There are teams assigned to campaigns for each major party. Antonio García Martínez, a former Facebook product manager who ran the targeted ads program, argues that Facebook is already set up to adopt a “know your customer” type approach, similar to those used in the banking sector to prevent money laundering. Platforms should be required to “log[] each and every candidate and SuperPAC that advertises on Facebook. No initial vetting means no right to political advertising.”[161] For the platforms, the “know your customer” approach is useful for creating a “gate” that allows platforms to avoid obvious foreign money and to intercept and stop foreign disinformation advertising in our elections. A similar intervention could require a U.S. bank account to purchase ads, which will not stop foreign intervention, but will ease enforcers in tracing the source of advertisements.[162]

Facebook does not currently gate political account creation from the beginning.[163] Political advertising is targeted in such a way that the platforms could identify Pages that attempt to circumvent the additional check on political content by passing off their advertising as commercial advertising. Subjecting political advertisers to a source check can be done by Facebook with little difficulty. In the interest of national security, government should require that the platforms report when an ad is obviously funded by a foreign source, in real time, or as soon as the platform becomes aware of it.

 

                            ii.  Limits to a Repository Requirement

The repository requirement cannot solve all challenges of online political advertising. We imagine a challenge to the scope of the repository—perhaps it is underinclusive. What is special about the online context—why not require a repository for offline messaging as well, such as mailers and print ads? Some cities, like Los Angeles, require that all campaign and independent expenditure communications be retained and disclosed, which includes any “message that conveys information or views in a scripted or reproduceable format, including but not limited to paper, audio, video, telephone, electronic, Internet, Web logs, and social media.”[164] Requiring retention and disclosure of printed communications is helpful and important, but it is less urgent than creating a repository for online ads, because printed materials do not disappear like online ads currently can. Enforcement of our disclosure, disclaimer, and substantive campaign finance rules for online political advertising is almost impossible without the repository.

An administrability concern lies in another game-able aspect of the current regulatory framework, and it should be updated for the age of social media and viral ads. Some ads are placed for free, but promoted via bots, sock puppets, and inauthentic social media users (machine or human). Their promotion “services” are designed to appear organic, and payment to secure the ad shares and re-tweets occurs off-platform. Platforms are now able to identify suspicious activity from accounts that have an outsized impact, so some of these faux-organic posts are detectible now.[165] Payments for ad promotion by humans and non-humans alike are important expenditures, and they should trigger reporting requirements once they reach a minimum threshold.[166] In brief, political ads that would otherwise be subject to disclaimers if they were placed for a “fee” under the current regulations, but which are placed for “free” and promoted via paid bots should contain disclaimers. They aren’t “free” content. This is only administratively difficult where the group making the payments is inclined to avoid reporting payments to services providing bots, trolls, and other inauthentic users in order to boost their messages. Nevertheless, its violation provides an important enforcement “hook” to reduce disinformation online.

iii.  Current Efforts to Aggregate Ads

Facebook is the most advanced of the platforms in its efforts to collect political communications, but its efforts still fall short of what its users deserve. In May 2018, Facebook posted an Archive of Ads with Political Content. The Archive discloses the Page that paid for the ad, all ads run by the Page, and the audience makeup, but not the targeting criteria.[167] While the Facebook’s Archive addresses several reforms we have requested publicly in the past eighteen months, their design falls short in several important ways.[168] First, because it does not require information about the true source of the communications, voters still do not know who is speaking to them. Rather, they know who paid to boost an ad into their feeds. Second, the Facebook Archive does not provide the targeting categories or an audience ID for a list of users that were targeted with the political communication. The Archive reveals age and gender distribution of the audience, as well as the state in which they reside, but those are certainly not the only targeting criteria used. For any given ad, the women and men of various ages were not targeted merely because of their age, sex, and location; they were targeted because of other information that Facebook knows about them, such as what issue-oriented groups or other candidates they like or follow on the platform. A candidate who is the subject of a disinformation campaign would not be able to speak to the same audience unless she spoke to the entire population in the geographic areas targeted by the disinformative campaign. This is no remedy for disinformation attacks on social media. Moreover, the First Amendment does not require this level of protection for disinformative political speech. Facebook should make targeting criteria plain, to enable counter speech. Third, the Archive affects only one corner of the vast world of social media, when we know industry-wide coordination is needed.

Looking around the industry, each platform has suggested its own “fixes,” all of which suffer the ills of not providing targeting criteria and not requiring information about the true source of the communication.[169] Moreover, the platforms’ proposals are not coordinated, but will create an overlapping web of platform-specific fixes. Voters want to know who is trying to influence them, and to accomplish this, they need one online “file” for all political communications, which is easily searchable, and which is divided into categories of who was targeted and for what reason.

The Honest Ads Act contains a rough description of a set of transparency requirements that would apply to any person or group spending more than $500 (aggregate) to make electioneering communications online and would require that the platform maintain a public file.[170] The current draft of the bill is vague on whether the system is disaggregated, like the FCC’s Political File, where users must search station-by-station and year by year. If the current proposal’s design is also disaggregated, then members of the public wanting to view the ads would be stymied by having to search advertiser-by-advertiser to find the ads they seek. This early design can be improved. First, disclosure should be standardized across platforms. Second, the $500 aggregate spending trigger is probably at the upper limit of what will be effective. It may be politically pragmatic to include a spending trigger, but the Constitution does not require one, and the Political File does not have one. Five-hundred dollars is well below the campaign contribution limit and the registration thresholds with the FEC, but it has enormous advertising reach on Facebook. A numerical example illustrates. Imagine a Super PAC called Vermonters for Bernie. Vermont has around 500,000 voting-aged residents. Suppose that 400,000 of them are on Facebook. For less than $4,000 and the current cost-per-impression price of less than a penny, the group could show all voting-age residents of Vermont the ad. Of course, a group would only target voters that it knew it wanted to turn out to vote or that it knew it wanted to suppress—in other words, a much smaller number than the 400,000 or so registered voters on Facebook.[171] For $250, an ad will have 25,000 “impressions,” appearing in the newsfeeds of 25,000 people.[172] Considering the last election came down to fewer than 80,000 voters in three states, we believe the threshold triggering regulation should be fairly low.[173] The platforms can also advise the advertisers of their obligation to register with and report to the FEC once they hit a certain threshold, to avoid a situation in which unsophisticated actors are swept up in the regulatory regime for very small expenditures.

2.  Close the Loophole for Disclaimers in Online Ads

Despite its recent embrace of it, Facebook has long opposed transparency in online political advertising. Political advertising placed “for free” is still political advertising, and the public has a right to know who paid for its creation or distribution.[174] To enforce disclaimer requirements, platforms can deputize users to report disclaimer violations, in the same way that the platforms allow users to report violations of the terms of service. They can also perform random spot-checks to help enforce the requirement (and deter attempts to circumvent it), by asking users after the ad is shown whether it contained a disclaimer.

The FEC is again feeling public pressure to close the loophole for disclaimers in online ads.[175] It held a hearing about online advertising disclaimers,[176] but given the political and institutional realities of that body in 2018 (with a bare quorum and inability to agree on many issues), it seems unlikely that the FEC itself will make much progress in the near term.

As for the content of disclaimers, at a minimum, the disclaimers should reveal the same information required when ads are run on television or radio.[177] Since Citizens United, legislators and activists have urged that disclaimers on all ads (online or not) contain the names of the top donors to the entity running the ad. This strikes us as reasonable, and political science research has shown aspects of these more detailed disclosures to be effective.[178]

3.  Eliminate Donor Anonymity for LLCs and 501(c) Organizations

Under our current disclosure and disclaimer framework, the public only sees the actual names of donors under certain circumstances, such as when the donors give to a campaign, party, SuperPAC, or other outside group subject to disclosure requirements. Even if the loophole for online advertising disclaimers is closed, the broader problem of LLC and 501(c) disclosure will remain. This loophole matters for disinformation advertising, because even if the disclaimer requirements are extended to online ads run and distributed by LLCs and 501(c) groups, voters cannot “follow the money” without extending disclosure requirements to corporations making independent expenditures.

Why does this matter? For starters, the holdings in Citizens United and SpeechNow combine to imply that limits on independent expenditures are unconstitutional. Mega donors to outside groups can—and do—seek anonymity by making their independent expenditures through either their own anonymous LLCs or through 501(c) groups.[179] Money is passed from group to group in a “daisy chain” of limited transparency.

We do not know what share of online ads is currently run by groups without disclosure requirements. The current legal regime means that there is no limit to the amount of political messaging that could come from anonymous sources. Moreover, corporate anonymity can hide foreign influence in our elections. Saving ads run by corporations in the repository without requiring disclosure of their funders truncates voters’ ability to follow the money to learn about candidates and policies that matter to them.

B.  “Nudge” and Educate Sharers and Viewers

We now turn our attention to ways the government can help reduce the spread of disinformation advertising. User education is paramount. Scholars call efforts to preempt disinformation via education “inoculation.” There are various successful forms of inoculation, such as educating users about the “potentially misleading effect of false-balance media coverage,”[180] preemptive warnings to people about tactics used to spread misinformation,[181] and even online games that teach the main strategies of disinformation.[182]

A simple education campaign on platforms can inoculate users, helping them learn how to avoid spreading disinformation. For example, users can be taught how to tighten their security settings and reminded not to interact with disinformation in their newsfeeds, because the algorithms promote content based on interactions with it. Whether this requirement would invite a challenge as “compelled speech” under normal circumstances, it seems unlikely that platforms would protest it in this political climate. On firmer constitutional ground, though much more expensively, the government could pay to place inoculating ads on the platforms.

Viewing less disinformation in the first place is important, because we are bad at recognizing and remembering corrections to false information. Disinformation, especially when repeated, persists in our minds. Users can view less disinformation if platforms provide an opt-out or opt-in system to viewing disinformation and viewing content from sources that have regularly spread disinformation.[183] An opt-out system for consumer and service advertising already exists. AdChoices, run by Digital Advertising Alliance, allows Internet users to opt out of being tracked by advertisers who are members of the alliance, who use “cookies” and tracking to present ads to Internet users based on previous internet activity. Default settings can be sticky.[184] For example, under the AdChoices program, only a small number of people actually opt out.[185] If government required platforms to default users to not view narrowly targeted political or issue ads, and instead platforms offered to users the choice to opt-in to viewing that content, low up-take would reduce the amount of disinformation that each viewer encounters. An opt-in (or out) system would reduce ad revenues for platforms selling political ads, but political ads are a miniscule part of platforms’ overall advertising revenue. As for the constitutionality of a government-imposed opt-in or opt-out requirement, there is no case directly on point.[186] Government action is not strictly required here, if platforms are willing to sacrifice a bit of profit. They can create an opt-in system voluntarily.

These interventions will not stop everyone who shares political disinformation. Some people are particularly motivated to share it. Partisan perceptual bias and motivated reasoning present additional challenges to efforts to convince people to stop spreading disinformation advertising.[187] Partisan perceptual bias is distortion of “actual-world information” in the direction of “preferred-world states,” which can occur when a fact has positive or negative implications for one’s party.[188] Motivated reasoning, observed here as directionally motivated reasoning, “leads people to seek out information that reinforces their preferences (i.e., confirmation bias), counterargue information that contradicts their preferences (i.e., disconfirmation bias), and view proattitudinal information as more convincing than counterattitudinal information (i.e., prior attitude effect).”[189] Partisan bias and motivated reasoning mean that it may be difficult to affect the utility calculations of people “under the sway” of disinformation that agrees with their preferred policy positions.[190] Some social media users do not care that the items they share on social media have been debunked by third-party fact checkers. Political scientists Brendan Nyhan and Jason Reifler have observed that corrections to factual misperceptions can backfire to the point that “corrections actually increase misperceptions” among the group whose ideology is threatened by the correction, an effect observed (so far) among those who describe themselves as “very conservative.”[191] In sum, our politics may be so group-based that users could happily circulate news with contested content as long as it supports their candidate.

Therefore, platforms may need to be very active to reduce sharing of disinformation. A one-time opt-in (or out) process would be a helpful start, but the amount of disinformation that persists may still be damaging to democracy. That brings us to general approaches that the platforms can use, which probably would not survive a constitutional challenge if the efforts were required by government regulators.

C.  Considerations for Platform Efforts to Reduce Disinformation

Disinformation is “sticky.” A series of papers by Nyhan and coauthors suggest that “political myths are extremely difficult to counter.”[192] Reducing the amount of disinformation that voters are subjected to is useful from a human cognition standpoint, and as we have argued, from the standpoint of a thriving democracy. After an early period of minimizing its role,[193] Facebook has begun to address its disinformation problem.[194] It has experimented with using third-party fact checkers to identify and label disinformation, with mixed results.[195] It has also experimented with offering “related” stories that serve as fact correctives, polling users on which news sources they trust most, and suppressing all news in its users’ newsfeeds.[196] Finally, it has begun to move away from including news in newsfeeds.[197] That is a move away from publishers, but not necessarily a move away from disinformation, since so much disinformation seems to have emerged from Pages set up by so-called astroturf groups[198] and amplifying fake media sites.

Three general considerations will help any private regulatory framework to be effective. First, any efforts to label and identify questionable (or trustworthy[199]) stories or sources should be consistent across platforms. All voters should be able to quickly identify untrustworthy content across platforms and trust that all platforms use the same standards to classify it. Second, the platforms should aim at incentives. They can do so in overt ways, such as Facebook’s plan to temporarily ban advertisers who repeatedly share disinformation advertising that has been marked by fact checkers as “false news.”[200] They can also aim at incentives in deeper ways, such as the way Facebook’s algorithm demotes ads that provide “low quality” experiences when users click through.[201] Third, the platforms can turn down the volume of disinformation advertising by enforcing their terms of service, which prohibit bots and “inauthentic likes.”[202]

D. A Note About Feasibility

As much as the social media companies argue that the best answer is self-regulation, a broader look around the world shows that social media companies comply with fairly tight regulations in other countries. Some of these regulations would not survive First Amendment muster or might not be otherwise desirable in the United States. Nevertheless, platform compliance with regulations elsewhere belies platforms’ claim that the U.S. government regulations would be overly-burdensome.

Consider several examples from European regulations. First, Germany passed a law that fines media platforms for failure to delete “illegal, racist or slanderous comments and posts within 24 hours of being notified to do so.”[203] Because disinformation ads are often slanderous, a lot of disinformation ads will expose the platforms to penalties if not removed. The fines are steep: up to €50 million ($57 million), and estimates are that it will cost the platforms around €530 million ($622 million) a year to increase monitoring to avoid fines.[204] Germany has apparently seen a decline in disinformation on Facebook since the law was implemented in summer 2017.[205]

In the Czech Republic, the government is particularly concerned about Russian efforts to destabilize their democracy. Its interior ministry has launched a Center Against Terrorism and Hybrid Threats “tasked with identifying and countering fake news.”[206] Dozens of jurisdictions worldwide observe “election silence,” or a media blackout, in the time leading up to voting day, or during voting day itself.[207] These blackouts range from not allowing the mention of candidates aside from the fact that the candidate voted (France) to halting advertising except online and billboard advertising placed before the blackout period and not altered during it (Ontario, Canada).[208]

Many of these regulations would be considered government censorship beyond that which is tolerated for political speech in the United States. It is certainly true that autocratic leaders may use “combatting disinformation” as a convenient excuse for a crackdown on speech and expression. However, the broader point, for our purposes, is that social media platforms are subject to regulations worldwide and tolerate a good deal of regulation in order to enjoy the benefits of doing business in other countries. Therefore, they can certainly handle some government-imposed transparency requirements here in the United States.

V.  Task Assignment and Action Across Multiple Jurisdictions

Who should implement the government regulations? In this Part, we briefly survey existing federal regulator capabilities, as well as identify cities and states that have started to act in the absence of federal government regulation.

A.  Federal Agency Competencies and Task Assignment

Administrative agencies have a wide variety of missions, specializations, and clients.[209] The FEC’s core mission is to “protect the integrity of the federal campaign finance process by providing transparency and fairly enforcing and administering federal campaign finance laws.”[210] Its clients are comprised of voters (beneficiaries) and the candidates, parties, outside groups who finance messaging, and elected officials (regulated entities). Its position is complex because the regulated entities also control its funding. Perhaps as a result, the FEC’s mission statement is heavy on transparency and tepid on enforcement and administration. Nevertheless, it moves slowly, is gridlocked by partisan balance, and its skills are no match for sophisticated disinformation agents.

FEC enforcement is slow. By law, the FEC is a bipartisan agency and can have no more than three out of six commissioners from one political party. Partisan gridlock frequently prevents enforcement actions from progressing.[211] The FEC’s enforcement procedures require multiple rounds of voting: to proceed to an investigation; to allow the general counsel to conduct formal discovery and issue subpoenas;[212] to determine whether there is “probable cause” to believe a violation has occurred; and to litigate the matter in court if a settlement cannot be reached.[213] Resolving a matter can take years.

FEC suffers from partisan gridlock.[214] For a decade, Republican commissioners have resisted updating campaign finance laws and enforcing the existing ones.[215] Even as Facebook disclosed that Russian-linked trolls had purchased political ads on its platform during the 2016 election, the Republican FEC commissioners expressed worry that changing its policies would hinder “First Amendment rights to participate in the political process.”[216]

FEC’s jurisdiction and its employee skills do not match those needed to combat disinformation. It is charged with enforcing the ban on foreign contributions and expenditures, though its jurisdiction only extends to civil penalties.[217] Tracking down disinformation advertisers will require skills with money tracing. The FEC lawyers who conduct investigations are not expert in tracing money to its source using sophisticated computer-assisted tracing and data investigations. Even if it could escape partisan gridlock, the FEC is probably not the best fit for pursuing enforcement actions against disinformation advertising.

Our election security would be better served by placing investigation and enforcement capabilities in other agencies. One candidate is the U.S. Treasury’s Financial Crimes Enforcement Network, which has a core mission entirely related to financing, national security, and intelligence: “safeguard the financial system from illicit use and combat money laundering and promote national security through the collection, analysis, and dissemination of financial intelligence and strategic use of financial authorities.”[218] Other candidates to aid in investigation and enforcement are the FBI’s Cyber Crimes Division and the FCC. The FCC is ostensibly the regulator of social media companies. They keep the Political File for television ads, but have shown no interest in regulating political advertising on social media.

B.  The Role of State and Local Government

Regulation occurs at all levels of government. Individual cities and states control their own elections and can—and do—regulate the financing of those elections. Some states have already regulated disclaimers for online ads, for example, to provide more transparency than the federal regulatory regime requires.[219] These state laws currently target the advertiser and not the platforms, but if the states are comfortable departing from the low bar set by the federal government in this realm, they should also be comfortable doing so to keep disinformation out of their state and local elections. In the same way that the platforms are already accustomed to dealing with multiple regulatory jurisdictions across the world, they can handle a diversity of regulations domestically. If an overarching regulatory framework that protects voters in all elections does not emerge soon, local and state governments will continue to create new frameworks to protect voters in their own elections from disinformation.[220]

As of this writing, the main state-level action has been in New York and Maryland. New York’s Democracy Protection Act requires disclosure of all online ads, advertiser verification and registration with the NY Board of Elections, and an online archive.[221] The State of Maryland has enacted legislation requiring the platforms to retain all ads and audiences.[222] The California legislature is considering a similar bill.[223] Washington State and the city of Seattle are enforcing a longstanding legal requirement that “commercial advertisers” disclose the “exact nature and extent” of ads, the “names and addresses” of ad purchasers, and specific payment details.[224] The Seattle enforcement body is interpreting the ordinance to require copies of the ads in question and information about their intended and actual audiences—in other words, Seattle is requiring a repository very similar to the one we recommend for all jurisdictions.[225] Los Angeles already requires candidates to store all political communications.[226] Along with Chris Elmendorf, we have urged the City of San Francisco to adopt our model.[227]

Conclusion

Fake news is not news; it is native advertising to spread disinformation, and it belongs to the broader category of “disinformation advertising.” We have proposed a menu of ways for government to regulate online political advertising, including disinformation advertising. We believe that signaling matters and that the government must act, rather standing by while Facebook slowly comes around to partial self-regulation and attempts to drag a couple of its competitors along. The platforms have too many conflicts of interest and are too politically vulnerable to be trusted to carry out comprehensive self-regulation. Within the constraints of the First Amendment, the government must regulate, and while the jurisprudence may need updating in light of the rapid change in our communications, our proposed regulations should pass muster under the current state of First Amendment jurisprudence.

Most of what scholars have studied and courts assume about the effects of campaign finance regulations developed with “offline” political advertisements as the motivating example. The underlying behavioral expectations around regulating political advertising online should hold in a broad sense, but the 2016 election drove home four features of online advertising that distinguish it from television advertising. Online political advertising is more likely to be native advertising, more likely to contain disinformation, more likely to be untraceable (preventing counter-speech), and much cheaper. Our current regulatory framework is insufficient to fully address disinformation advertising online.

Government must extend and update existing campaign finance transparency regulations for use online. Our proposals will facilitate enforcement, improve voter competence, and facilitate counter-speech. They have the ancillary benefit of reducing the attractiveness of online political microtargeting. It defies logic that political ads run on television, cable, and radio, and are accessible to the public long after they run, but we have such large transparency deficits when it comes to online political advertising.

Whether government can constitutionally require platforms to inoculate users or provide opt-in and opt-out regimes are both open questions under the First Amendment. Of course, nothing (except their financial conflict of interest) is preventing the platforms from instituting these reforms without being required to by government. Direct content regulation should under no circumstances be performed or required by the government. If the platforms are unable or unwilling to reduce disinformation advertising in these ways, government cannot step in.

Democracy in the United States is at a crucial point. A foreign regime attempted to destabilize our democracy using disinformation, and their attacks are ongoing. Opportunists, foreign and domestic, are also producing political disinformation to make a quick buck. Transparency for online political advertising will shed light on a dark process and enable enforcement against people attempting to sow conflict and discord.

 

APPENDIX

Since we finalized this Article, the platforms have continued to battle political disinformation. None has provided audience identifiers to enable counter speech. Nor have they joined together or formed a co-regulatory arrangement with the government. Some are attempting to “nudge” users, but none has provided an opt-in or opt-out for narrowly-targeted political content. As it stands, without co-regulation or comprehensive industry self-regulation, any positive reforms they make may be changed at any time, with no accountability.

 


[*] *.. Associate Professor of Law, Political Science, and Public Policy at University of Southern California (awood@law.usc.edu).

[†] †.. Senior Fellow, Maplight Digital Deception Project and former Chair of the Federal Election Commission and California Fair Political Practices Commission. This article has benefited from insights from Rebecca Brown, Chris Elmendorf, and Rick Hasen. Daniel Brovman, Samantha Hay, Justin Mello, Brandon Thompson, and Caroline Yoon provided fantastic research assistance. Teresa Delgado and Alex Manzanares joyfully created the time and space required to focus on the project. We also appreciate the following students for sharing their seminar papers from Wood’s Money in Politics class as we built the early drafts of this project: Oliver Wu, Sean Stratford-Jones, Mei Tuggle, Lauren Fishelman, Adrian Mahistede, and Edward Prouty.               Irina Dykhne’s seminar paper-turned-note on native political advertising was particularly influential for this piece, and we are grateful to her for her thoughts on our drafts.

 [1]. Hunt Allcott & Matthew Gentzkow, Social Media and Fake News in the 2016 Election, 31 J. Econ. Persp. 211, 227 (2017).

 [2]. Undermining Democratic Institutions and Splintering NATO: Russian Disinformation Aims: Hearing Before the H. Comm. on Foreign Affairs, 115th Cong. 27 (2017) (statement of Peter Doran, Executive Vice President, Center for European Policy Analysis).

 [3]. Russian Interference in the 2016 U.S. Elections: Hearing Before the S. Select Comm. on Intelligence, 115th Cong. 72–76 (2017) (statement of J. Alex Halderman, Professor of Computer Science and Engineering, University of Michigan). See also id. at 2 (opening statement of Sen. Mark Warner); id. at 17 (statement of Bill Priestap, Asst. Dir. Counterintelligence Div.).

 [4]. See, e.g., Homeland Security Threats, C-SPAN (Sept. 27, 2017), https://www.c-span.org
/video/?434411-1/senior-officials-testify-homeland-security-threats (statement of Sen. James Lankford, Member, S. Comm. on Intelligence); Devlin Barrett, Lawmaker: Russian Trolls Trying to Sow Discord in NFL Kneeling Debate, Wash. Post (Sept. 27, 2017), http://wapo.st/2xeZkQY.

 [5]. Disinformation: A Primer in Russian Active Measures and Influence Campaigns, Panel I: Hearing Before the S. Select Comm. on Intelligence, 115th Cong. 30–42 (2017) (statement of Clint Watts, Robert A. Fox Fellow, Foreign Policy Research Institute).

 [6]. Andrew Guess, Brendan Nyhan & Jason Reifler, Selective Exposure to Misinformation: Evidence from the Consumption of Fake News During the 2016 U.S. Presidential Campaign (Jan. 9, 2018) (unpublished manuscript), http://www.dartmouth.edu/~nyhan/fake-news-2016.pdf; Richard Gunther, Paul A. Beck & Erik C. Nisbet, Fake News Did Have a Significant Impact on the Vote in the 2016 Election: Original Full-Length Version with Methodological Appendix (2018) (unpublished manuscript), https://u.osu.edu/cnep/files/2015/03/Fake-News-Piece-for-The-Conversation-with-methodological-appendix-11d0ni9.pdf.

 [7]. Chris J. Vargo, Lei Guo & Michelle A. Amazeen, The Agenda-Setting Power of Fake News: A Big Data Analysis of the Online Media Landscape from 2014 to 2016, 20 New Media & Soc’y 2028, 2028 (2018).

 [8]. See, e.g., Mark Verstraete et al., Identifying and Countering Fake News 22–24 (Arizona Legal Studies Discussion Paper No. 17-15, Aug. 2017), https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract
_id=3007971 (proposing a re-interpretation of section 230 of the Common Decency Act).

 [9]. See, for example, the Trust Project’s standardized disclosures that provide clarity on a news organization’s ethics. Sally Lehrman, What People Really Want from News Organizations, Atlantic (May 25, 2017), https://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2017/05/what-people-really-want-from-news-organizations/526902.

 [10]. Richard L. Hasen, Cheap Speech and What It Has Done (to American Democracy) 28 First Amend. L. Rev. (forthcoming 2018) (manuscript at 3), https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm
?abstract_id=3017598; Nathaniel Persily, The Campaign Revolution Will Not Be Televised, Am. Int. (Oct. 10, 2015), https://www.the-american-interest.com/2015/10/10/the-campaign-revolution-will-not-be-televised.

 [11]. Tim Wu, Knight First Amend. Inst., Emerging Threats: Is the First Amendment Obsolete? 11 (2017), https://knightcolumbia.org/sites/default/files/content/Emerging%20Threats
%20Tim%20Wu%20Is%20the%20First%20Amendment%20Obsolete.pdf.

 [12]. Anders Åslund, Regulate Social Media—Just Like Other Media, The Hill (Oct. 5, 2017), http://thehill.com/opinion/national-security/354006-regulate-social-media-just-like-other-media.

 [13]. Jonathan Taplin, Is It Time to Break Up Google?, N.Y. Times (Apr. 22, 2017), https://nyti.ms/2p7Emhp.

 [14]. 52 U.S.C. § 30121 (2012) (discussing contributions and donations by foreign nationals); 11 C.F.R. § 110.20 (2017) (prohibiting contributions, donations, expenditures, independent expenditures, and disbursements by foreign nationals).

 [15]. Michael Gilbert’s work points out that there is a tradeoff between the loss of information from speech that may be “chilled” by disclosure and the loss of information where disclosure is unavailable. See Michael D. Gilbert, Campaign Finance Disclosure and the Information Tradeoff, 98 Iowa L. Rev. 1847, 1858–61, 1866–69 (2013). Chilling and informational effects are difficult to measure. Our best estimates of chilling are that the effect is negligible. The information benefit from voters using heuristics is measurable and should outweigh any chilling effect, though no study has attempted to simultaneously measure both at the same time. See generally Abby K. Wood, Campaign Finance Disclosure, 14 Ann. Rev. L. & Soc. Sci. (forthcoming Oct. 2018), https://www-annualreviews-org.libproxy1.usc.edu/doi
/pdf/10.1146/annurev-lawsocsci-110316-113428 [hereinafter Wood, Campaign Finance Disclosure] (highlighting various opportunities to expand the literature on campaign finance disclosure).

 [16]. See Allcott & Gentzkow, supra note 1, at 213.

 [17]. See generally, e.g., id. at 211–36.

 [18]. See Christopher Paul & Miriam Matthews, RAND Corp., The Russian “Firehose of Falsehood” Propaganda Model: Why It Might Work and Options to Counter It 7 (2016), https://www.rand.org/pubs/perspectives/PE198.html (summarizing literature in experimental psychology).

 [19].  To our knowledge, the first law review publication noting the potential legal issues involved in native political advertising online is the award-winning student note by Irina Dykhne. See generally Irina Dykhne, Note, Persuasive or Deceptive? Native Advertising in Political Campaigns, 91 S. Cal. L. Rev. 339 (2018).

 [20]. See Adam Entous, Craig Timberg & Elizabeth Dwoskin, Russian Operatives Used Facebook Ads to Exploit Divisions Over Black Lives Matter and Muslims, Wash. Post (Sept. 25, 2017), http://wapo.st/2fM3sNh?tid=ss_tw-bottom&utm_term=.dbb227bc4754.

 [21]. Indictment ¶ 6, United States v. Internet Research Agency LLC, No. 1:18-cr-00032-DLF (D.D.C. Feb. 16, 2018), https://www.justice.gov/file/1035477. Ads aimed at sowing division and not necessarily mentioning candidates would be more akin to issue advertising than campaign advertising or electioneering communications. Issue advertising is subject to fewer disclosure requirements, generally.

 [22]. See id. 46.

 [23]. Eric Lubbers, The Man Behind Denver Guardian (and Many Other Fake News Websites) Is a Registered Democrat from California, Denver Post (Nov. 24, 2016, 1:29 PM), http://www.denverpost.com/2016/11/23/the-man-behind-denver-guardian.

 [24]. The Alliance for Securing Democracy continues to track Russian social media activity in the United States. See GMF Alliance for Securing Democracy https://dashboard.securingdemocracy
.org (last visited Sept. 4, 2018). See also Molly K. McKew, How Twitter Bots and Trump Fans Made #ReleaseTheMemo Go Viral, Politico (Feb. 4, 2018), https://www.politico.com/magazine/story/2018
/02/04/trump-twitter-russians-release-the-memo-216935.

 [25]. Social Media Influence in the 2016 U.S. Elections: Hearing Before the S. Select Comm. on Intelligence, 115th Cong. (2017) (statement of Sen. Richard Burr, Chair, Sen. Intelligence Comm.); Craig Timberg, Russian Propaganda May Have Been Shared Hundreds of Millions of Times, New Research Says, Wash. Post (Oct. 5, 2017), http://wapo.st/2y279rP?tid=ss_tw-bottom&utm_term
=.e611f39c610e (citing Jonathan Albright, Itemized Posts and Historical Engagement—6 Now-Closed FB Pages, Tableau, https://public.tableau.com/profile/d1gi#!/vizhome/FB4/TotalReachbyPage (last updated Oct. 5, 2017)).

 [26]. Young Mie Kim et al., The Stealth Media? Groups and Targets Behind Divisive Issue Campaigns on Facebook, Pol. Comm. (forthcoming 2018) (manuscript at 9), https://doi.org/10.1080
/10584609.2018.1476425

 [27]. A group is coded as “suspicious” if its page was taken down by Facebook because it was linked to Russian ads or the Internet Research Agency, if its website “exists but shows little activity since Election Day and no information about the group exists elsewhere,” or if its page is accessible, but there is no other information online about the group. Id. at 11. The Russian groups, which comprised 8.3% of total groups running ads over the time period, were identified as such by Facebook and the House Intelligence Committee. Id.

 [28]. The authors define these as groups that have not registered with the National Center for Charitable Statistics, GuideStar, or the FEC. Id.

 [29]. These groups regularly produce “news,” are “unaffiliated with any existing non-news groups such as a nonprofit,” have “little self-identification with a group,” and are “often identified by a fact-check (e.g., PolitiFact, Factcheck.org, Snopes, Media Bias/Fact Check) or media watchdog organization (e.g., Media Matters for America) as a group generating false information (so called ‘fake news’).” Id. at 12.

 [30]. See Tess Townsend, Why Political Ads Are Regulated but Fake News on Facebook Isn’t, Inc. (Dec. 9, 2016), https://www.inc.com/tess-townsend/facebook-fake-news-political-ads.html.

 [31]. How to Boost Your Posts, Facebook Business, https://www.facebook.com/business/a
/online-sales/promoted-posts (last visited Sept. 4, 2018). See also Townsend, supra note 30.

 [32]. Elizabeth Dwoskin et al., Russians Took a Page from Corporate America by Using Facebook Tool to ID and Influence Voters, Wash. Post (Oct. 2, 2017), http://wapo.st/2xPIDZ6.

 [33]. Id. Facebook reported that only 1% of the ads they turned over to Congress from the 2016 election used Custom Audiences. Elliot Schrage, Hard Questions: Russian Ads Delivered to Congress, Facebook Newsroom (Oct. 2, 2017), https://newsroom.fb.com/news/2017/10/hard-questions-russian-ads-delivered-to-congress. We do not know how many disinformation ads from other sources, domestic or foreign, used it, and we do not know how common its use is now.

 [34]. Antonio García Martínez, How Trump Conquered Facebook—Without Russian Ads, Wired (Feb. 23, 2018, 10:06 AM), https://www.wired.com/story/how-trump-conquered-facebookwithout-russian-ads. In its recent proposals, Facebook has recognized aspects of this problem and proposed changes. See Shutting Down Partner Categories, Facebook Newsroom (Mar. 28, 2018), https://newsroom.fb.com/news/h/shutting-down-partner-categories.

 [35]. See Disinformation: A Primer in Russian Active Measures and Influence Campaigns, Panel I: Hearing Before the S. Select Comm. on Intelligence, 115th Cong. 48 (2017) (statement of Clint Watts, Robert A. Fox Fellow, Foreign Policy Research Institute). See also Indictment ¶ 44, United States v. Internet Research Agency LLC, 1:18-cr-00032-DLF (D.D.C. Feb. 16, 2018), https://www.justice.gov
/file/1035477; Undermining Democratic Institutions and Splintering NATO: Russian Disinformation Aims, Before the H. Comm. on Foreign Affairs, 115th Cong. 30 (2017) (statement of the Hon. Daniel Baer).

 [36]. Ten thousand Twitter followers cost $39.89; 500 Facebook shares cost less than $25. See Buy Twitter Followers, Sozialy, https://www.sozialy.com/buy-twitter-followers (last visited Sept. 4, 2018). See also The Most Reliable Place to Buy Facebook Shares, Buy Real Marketing, https://www.buyrealmarketing.com/buy-facebook-shares (last visited Sept. 4, 2018).

 [37]. See Undermining Democratic Institutions and Splintering NATO: Russian Disinformation Aims: Hearing Before the H. Comm. on Foreign Affairs, 115th Cong. 11 (2017) (prepared statement of Toomas Hendrik Ilves, former President of the Republic of Estonia); Undermining Democratic Institutions and Splintering NATO: Russian Disinformation Aims: Hearing Before the H. Comm. on Foreign Affairs, 115th Cong. 30 (2017) (statement of the Hon. Daniel Baer).

 [38]. See Checks and Balances for Economic Growth, MUR 6729 (FEC Oct. 24, 2014) (statement of Vice Chair Ann M. Ravel), http://eqs.fec.gov/eqsdocsMUR/14044363872.pdf (“Since its inception, this effort to protect individual bloggers and online commentators has been stretched to cover slickly-produced ads aired solely on the Internet but paid for by the same organizations and the same large contributors as the actual ads aired on TV.”).

 [39]. A Facebook Advisory Opinion has long been interpreted to allow an exemption from disclaimers under the “small items exemption,” though the FEC’s recent advisory opinion on the issue requires disclaimers for Facebook ads with express advocacy placed for a fee. FEC, Advisory Opinion 2017-12 (Dec. 15, 2017), http://saos.fec.gov/aodocs/2017-12.pdf.

 [40]. 11 C.F.R. § 110.20(f) (2018).

 [41]. See, e.g., 52 U.S.C. § 30101(9)(B)(i) (2012) (exempting costs associated with producing news from the definition of “expenditure”); id. § 30101(4) (defining a “political committee” in terms of contributions collected and expenditures made); id. § 30120 (disclaimer requirements for political committees); id. § 30104 (requiring disclosure for political committees).

 [42]. Turner Broad. Sys. v. FCC, 512 U.S. 622, 659 (1994). See also Note, Defining the Press Exemption from Campaign Finance Restrictions, 129 Harv. L. Rev. 1384, 1385–86 (2016).

 [43]. FEC, Advisory Opinion 2016-01, at 3 (Apr. 8, 2016). See also Reader’s Digest Ass’n v. FEC, 509 F. Supp. 1210, 1215 (S.D.N.Y. 1981).

 [44]. FEC, Advisory Opinion 2010-08, at 5 (June 11, 2010), http://saos.fec.gov/aodocs/AO
%202010-08.pdf.

 [45]. FEC, Advisory Opinion 2011-11, at 7 (June 30, 2011), https://www.fec.gov/files/legal/aos
/76329.pdf (citing FEC v. Mass. Citizens for Life, 479 U.S. 238, 251 (1986)); FEC Advisory Opinion 2000-13 (June 23, 2000) (concluding that a website was “viewable by the general public and akin to a periodical or news program distributed to the general public”).

 [46]. See RTTV America, Inc., MUR 6481 (May 27, 2014) (dismissing action against RTTV and Ron Paul 2012 Presidential Campaign Committee in a letter), http://eqs.fec.gov/eqsdocsMUR

/14044354314.pdf.

 [47]. The disinformation at issue is not “clickbait” headlines with spins on true (or mostly true) stories, like those from the partisan-leaning media. That speech, though biased, is protected. We are instead discussing complete political hoaxes like those that we saw in the 2016 election.

 [48]. FBI Agent Suspected in Hillary Email Leaks Found Dead in Apparent Murder-Suicide, Snopes (Nov. 5, 2016), https://www.snopes.com/fbi-agent-murder-suicide.

 [49]. Eric Lubbers, There Is No Such Thing as the Denver Guardian, Despite that Facebook Post You Saw, Denver Post (Nov. 5, 2016), https://www.denverpost.com/2016/11/05/there-is-no-such-thing-as-the-denver-guardian.

 [50]. This is based on our research in the Internet Archive. Internet Archive: Wayback Machine, http://web.archive.org/web/*/http://denverguardian.com (last visited Sept. 4, 2018).

 [51]. See generally Donie O’Sullivan & Dylan Byers, Exclusive: Fake Black Activist Accounts Linked to Russian Government, CNN (Sept. 28, 2017, 11:40 AM), https://money.cnn.com/2017
/09/28/media/blacktivist-russiafacebook-twitter/index.html.

 [52]. Michael X. Delli Carpini & Scott Keeter, What Americans Know about Politics and Why It Matters 3, 5 (1996). Scholars of deliberative democracy also list information as paramount. See, e.g., Simone Chambers, Deliberative Democratic Theory, Ann. Rev. Pol. Sci. 307, 309, 319–20 (2003); James S. Fishkin & Robert C. Luskin, Experimenting with a Democratic Ideal: Deliberative Polling and Public Opinion, 40 Acta Politica 284, 285 (2005).

 [53]. Jason Stanley, In Defense of Truth, and the Threat of Disinformation, in Can Public Diplomacy Survive The Internet? Bots, Echo Chambers, and Disinformation 71 (Shawn Powers & Markos Kounalakis eds., 2017).

 [54]. Paul & Matthews, supra note 18, at 3. See also Wu, supra note 11, at 15.

 [55]. Hasen, supra note 10, at 2.

 [56]. Wu, supra note 11, at 15.

 [57]. Christopher S. Elmendorf, Refining the Democracy Canon, 95 Cornell L. Rev. 1051, 1076–93 (2009). See Gilbert, supra note 15, at 1858–61, 1866–69 (discussing voters’ interest in relevant information accountability in relation to campaign finance). See also Citizens United v. FEC, 558 U.S. 310, 364 (2010); McConnell v. FEC, 540 U.S. 93, 201 (2003); Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U.S. 1, 64 (1976).

 [58]. There is a tremendous amount of literature in political science on these points. See, e.g., Larry M. Bartels, Uninformed Votes: Information Effects in Presidential Elections, 40 Amer. J. Pol. Sci. 194 passim (1996). See also James Druckman, Does Political Information Matter?, 22 Pol. Comm. 515, 515–17 (2006) (summarizing the academic literature).

 [59]. See Alcott & Gentzkow, supra note 1, at 229.

 [60]. Elizabeth Garrett, The Law and Economics of “Informed Voter” Ballot Notations, 85 Va. L. Rev. 1533, 1539–41, 1587 (1999). Additional information has varying sized effects, and more work is needed in the area. For example, party endorsements result in an increase in vote share of about eight percentage points. Thad Kousser, Seth Masket & Eric McGhee, Kingmakers or Cheerleaders? Party Power and the Causal Effects of Endorsements, 68 Pol. Res. Q. 443, 453–54 (2015). The marginal effect of additional campaign finance information is harder to establish, at least in an information-saturated environment. See David M. Primo, Information at the Margins: Campaign Finance Disclosure Laws, Ballot Issues, and Voter Knowledge, 12 Elect. L.J. 114, 127–28 (2013). See generally Wood, Campaign Finance Disclosure, supra note 15.

 [61]. Arthur Lupia, Shortcuts Versus Encyclopedias: Information and Voting Behavior in California Insurance Reform Elections, 88 Am. Pol. Sci. Rev. 63, 63–64, 72 (1994).

 [62]. Emily Thorson, Belief Echoes: The Persistent Effects of Corrected Misinformation, 33 Pol. Comm. 460, 462 (2015).

 [63]. Ian Skurnik et al., How Warnings About False Claims Become Recommendations, 31 J. Consumer Res. 713, 722–23 (2005).

 [64]. See Christopher S. Elmendorf & Abby K. Wood, Elite Political Ignorance: Law, Data, and the Representation of (Mis)Perceived Electorates, 52 U.C. Davis L. Rev (forthcoming Dec. 2018) (manuscript at 35) (footnote omitted), https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3034685.

 [65]. Pablo Barberá et al., Tweeting from Left to Right: Is Online Political Communication More Than an Echo Chamber?, 26 Psychol. Sci. 1531, 1531–42 (2015) (arguing that echo chambers are more prevalent among political issues, like a presidential election, than issues described as a “national conversation,” like the Boston Marathon Bombing).

 [66]. See Cass R. Sunstein, The Law of Group Polarization, 10 J. Pol. Phil. 175 passim (2002).

 [67]. See Eytan Bakshy, Solomon Messing & Lada A. Adamic, Exposure to Ideologically Diverse News and Opinion on Facebook, 348 Science 1130, 1131 (2015).

 [68]. See Craig Silverman, This Analysis Shows How Viral Fake Election News Stories Outperformed Real News on Facebook, Buzzfeed News (Nov. 16, 2016, 5:15 PM), https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article/craigsilverman/viral-fake-election-news-outperformed-real-news-on-facebook.

 [69]. Hasen, supra note 10, at 17 (citing Steven J. Heyman, The Conservative-Libertarian Turn in First Amendment Jurisprudence, 117 W. VA. L. Rev. 231 (2014)).

 [70]. See R.A.V. v. City of St. Paul, 505 U.S. 377, 382 (1992) (“The First Amendment generally prevents government from proscribing speech, or even expressive conduct, because of disapproval of the ideas expressed. Content-based regulations are presumptively invalid.”) (internal citations omitted). See also 281 Care Comm. v. Arneson, 766 F.3d 774 (8th Cir. 2014).

 [71]. See generally McCutcheon v. FEC, 572 U.S. 185 (2014) (striking down aggregate individual contribution limits); Citizens United v. FEC, 558 U.S. 310 (2010) (striking down a ban on independent expenditures from corporations’ treasuries); Republican Party of Minn. v. White, 536 U.S. 765 (2002) (discussing judicial issue-related speech).

 [72]. See Eu v. S.F. Cty. Democratic Cent. Comm., 489 U.S. 214, 231–32 (1989); Bluman v. FEC, 800 F. Supp. 2d 281, 288 (D.D.C. 2011), aff’d, 565 U.S. 1104 (2012).

 [73]. See Eu, 489 U.S. at 230.

 [74]. See Burson v. Freeman, 504 U.S. 191, 193–94, 197, 199 (1992). The Court recently struck down a vaguely-worded Minnesota law banning “political” apparel at polling stations. See Minn. Voters All. v. Mansky, 138 S. Ct. 1876, 1891–92 (2018). The Court analyzed it as a restriction in a nonpublic forum, and restrictions in such forums are reviewed only for reasonableness. Id. at 1885–86.

 [75]. Bluman v. FEC, 800 F. Supp. 2d 281, 288 (D.D.C. 2011) (holding that the government may “bar foreign citizens . . . from participating in the campaign process”), aff’d, 565 U.S. 1104 (2012). See also Oversight of Federal Political Advertisement Laws and Regulations: Testimony Before the Subcomm. on Info. Tech. of the Comm. on H. Oversight and Gov’t Reform, 115th Cong. 5–12 (2017) (statement of Ian Vandewalker, Senior Counsel, Democracy Program, Brennan Center for Justice at NYU School of Law) (discussing the different steps Congress could take to regulate foreigner-sponsored political advertisements online), https://www.brennancenter.org/sites/default/files/analysis/Testimony-IT-Subcom-U.S.House-Vandewalker-10.24.17.pdf; Alyssa Markenson, What’s at Stake: Bluman v. Federal Election Commission and the Incompatibility of the Stake-Based Immigration Plenary Power and Freedom of Speech, 109 Nw. U. L. Rev. 209, 228–37 (2014). Rick Hasen points out a potential tension here with dicta in Citizens United, which, read at its broadest, could say that “the identity of the speaker does not matter for First Amendment purposes.” See Hasen, supra note 10, at 19. That would be a particularly aggressive read of Citizens United, effectively overturning Bluman. The prohibition upheld in Bluman was interpreted to exclude issue advocacy by foreign nationals. Bluman, 800 F. Supp. 2d at 284.

 [76]. McIntyre v. Ohio Elections Comm’n, 514 U.S. 334, 349 (1995).

 [77]. We do not need to regulate fraudulent political speech for our proposed regulations; we merely note that the question is an open one. The Eighth Circuit struck down a regulation as being overbroad and specifically declined to decide whether preventing fraud on the electorate is a compelling government interest. See 281 Care Comm. v. Arneson, 766 F.3d 774, 787 (8th Cir. 2014). (“Today we need not determine whether, on these facts, preserving fair and honest elections and preventing fraud on the electorate comprise a compelling state interest because the narrow tailoring that must juxtapose that interest is absent here.”). United States v. Alvarez, 567 U.S. 709, 714–16 (2012), is often cited for the proposition that government cannot regulate fraudulent political speech. In Alvarez, the speech at issue was Alvarez’s misrepresentation that he had won the Congressional Medal of Honor; it was not campaign-related speech. Id. at 714. If Alvarez’s fraudulent speech was deemed protected by the Supreme Court, it is possible that fraudulent speech that is more directly political, like disinformation advertising about campaign-related issues, would also be protected, but the result is not inevitable. The degree of harm, which here is very high, is a crucial consideration in the inquiry. See generally Rebecca Brown, The Harm Principle and Free Speech, 89 S. Cal. L. Rev. 953 (2016).

 [78]. Alvarez, 567 U.S. at 721–22, 727 (“Some false speech may be prohibited even if analogous true speech could not be. This opinion does not imply that any of these targeted prohibitions are somehow vulnerable. But it also rejects the notion that false speech should be in a general category that is presumptively unprotected.”) (“The remedy for speech that is false is speech that is true.”). Of course, with regard to some efforts to reduce false speech, if the platforms do not act, government cannot step in. For example, the government may be able to require that platforms use neutral fact checkers, but it probably could not perform the fact-checking function itself or specify which fact checkers the platforms should use.

 [79]. McIntyre v. Ohio Elections Comm’n, 514 U.S. 334, 347 (1995).

 [80]. Citizens United v. FEC, 558 U.S. 310, 339 (2010).

 [81]. Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U.S. 1, 64 (1976).

 [82]. McIntyre, 514 U.S. at 347.

 [83]. See Wis. Right to Life v. FEC, 551 U.S. 449, 451 (2007) (citing First Nat. Bank of Boston v. Bellotti, 435 U. S. 765, 786 (1978)).

 [84]. See Citizens United, 558 U.S. at 371. The cases also involved discussion of other interests, such as the government’s interest in preventing corruption or its appearance and the government’s interest in enabling enforcement of the campaign finance laws. See Citizens United, 558 U.S. at 364; McConnell v. FEC, 540 U.S. 93, 201 (2003); Buckley, 424 U.S. at 64. One of us has argued elsewhere that a broader set of benefits is at play with campaign finance disclosure. For example, the government has an interest in securing the data necessary to evaluate its own campaign finance policies. Without knowing who is contributing and spending in campaigns, the government cannot know the distributional effects of policy changes. See Douglas M. Spencer & Abby K. Wood, Citizens United, States Divided: An Empirical Analysis of Independent Political Spending, 89 Ind. L.J. 315, 330 (2014). See also Wood, Campaign Finance Disclosure, supra note 15.

 [85]. Buckley, 424 U.S. at 66–67.

 [86]. Id. While some of its opinions upholding disclosure have turned on the anti-corruption rationale, the Court has remained convinced of the informational benefits of disclosure in the intervening forty years. See, for example, the majority opinion in Citizens United, which emphasizes that the information provided by disclosure is even more powerful in the age of the Internet, “because modern technology makes disclosures rapid and informative,” and that “this transparency enables the electorate to make informed decisions and give proper weight to different speakers and messages.” Citizens United v. FEC, 558 U.S. 310, 370–71 (2010).

 [87]. Connor M. Dowling & Amber Wichowsky, Does It Matter Who’s Behind the Curtain? Anonymity in Political Advertising and the Effects of Campaign Finance Disclosure, 41 Am. Pol. Res. 965 passim (2013) [hereinafter Dowling & Wichowsky (2013)]; Connor M. Dowling & Amber Wichowsky, Attacks Without Consequence? Candidates, Parties, Groups, and the Changing Face of Negative Advertising, 59 Am. J. Pol. Sci. 19 passim (2015) [hereinafter Dowling & Wichowsky (2015)]; Travis N. Ridout et al., Sponsorship, Disclosure and Donors: Limiting the Impact of Outside Group Ads, 68 Pol. Res. Q 154 passim (2015).

 [88]. Adam Bonica, Inferring Roll Call Scores from Campaign Contributions Using Supervised Machine Learning, Amer. J. Pol. Sci. (forthcoming 2018) (manuscript at 15), https://papers.ssrn.com
/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=2732913.

 [89]. See generally Abby K. Wood, Show Me the Money: “Dark Money” and the Informational Benefit of Campaign Finance Disclosure (Ctr. for Law & Soc. Sci., Research Paper No. CLASS17-24, 2018), https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3029095. We acknowledge again Gilbert’s theory that disclosure can cause loss of information due to the chilling effect that the court assumes exists (but which scholars have found scant evidence of). Gilbert, supra note 15.

 [90]. For more on the constitutionality of an opt-in or opt-out requirement, see Elmendorf & Wood, supra note 64, at 40 (“Also pertinent is Sorrell v. IMS Health, Inc., which invalidated a consent-to-use-of-personal-data requirement that disfavored particular speakers and types of speech. The consent requirements we propose would be viewpoint neutral, but they would disfavor a kind of speech (micro-targeted political advertising), and they advance only a limited privacy interest.”) (footnotes omitted).

 [91]. Wu, supra note 11 (“As scholars and historians know well, but the public is sometimes surprised to learn, the First Amendment sat dormant for much of American history . . . . As the story goes, the First Amendment remained inert well into the 1920s.”) (footnotes omitted).

 [92]. Nabiha Syed, Real Talk About Fake News: Towards a Better Theory for Platform Governance, 127 Yale L.J. Forum 337, 342–43 (2017).

 [93]. False information reaches more people than true information, and it spreads faster. Political disinformation spreads even faster than other kinds of false news. See Soroush Vosoughi et al., The Spread of False and True News Online, 359 Science 1146, 1146–51 (2018).

 [94]. Public discourse theory is not prominent in this libertarian age of free speech, but cases that fit its paradigm are not entirely unheard of. See, e.g., Red Lion Broad. Co. v. Fed. Commc’ns Comm’n, 395 U.S. 367, 367–68 (1969) (upholding broadcast fair time requirement on coverage of issues of public importance). See Robert Post, The Constitutional Status of Commercial Speech, 48 UCLA L. Rev. 1, 7–8 (2000) (describing the theory and referring to several other works about it).

 [95]. Syed, supra note 92, at 342–45.

 [96]. Eugene Volokh, Cheap Speech and What It Will Do, 104 Yale L.J. 1805, 1834–38 (1995).

 [97]. Id. at 1834–38, 1843.

 [98]. Wu, supra note 11, at 13.

 [99]. Id. at 23. Wu also says that the “captive audience” doctrine might be extended into the social media realm to provide a rationale for new regulation to protect listeners. Id. at 25. The opt-in/opt-out provisions we discuss in Part IV aim at not having a captive audience for disinformation. The existence of the opt-in/opt-out provision would therefore slightly weaken the government’s case in defending its regulation, to the extent that the “captive audience” line of cases would apply to disinformation advertising. Nevertheless, we think the benefit offered to voters from regularly being reminded they can opt in or out of seeing disputed content far outweighs the risk that a court might use the provision against the state in defending regulations.

 [100]. Hasen, supra note 10, at 19–23.

 [101]. These are serious harms. See generally Brown, supra note 77. (describing an approach to free speech which takes into account the actual manner in which expression is alleged to cause harm). Disinformation caused real-world damages as well. One serious event was the so-called “Pizzagate” scandal, in which disinformation advertising spread a rumor that a pizza shop had a Clinton-run pedophilia ring in it. The shop’s business was hurt, and its owners were harassed for months. Cecilia Kang, Fake News Onslaught Targets Pizzeria as Nest of Child-Trafficking, N.Y. Times (Nov. 21, 2016), https://nyti.ms/2f0L9G9. After the election, a man entered the pizza shop and fired three shots. Spencer S. Hsu, Comet Pizza Gunman Pleads Guilty to Federal and Local Charges, Wash. Post (Mar. 24, 2017), http://wapo.st/2mZBNtT.

 [102]. Bots are essentially code, and whether code is speech is not yet clear. See Neil Richards, Apple’s “Code = Speech” Mistake, MIT Tech. Rev. (Mar. 1, 2016), https://www.technologyreview
.com/s/600916/apples-code-speech-mistake (arguing that the Government can and should regulate bots, as distinct from speech). However, even if it is speech, the level of scrutiny to be applied to computer code speech is not set in stone. See Universal City Studios v. Reimerdes, 111 F. Supp. 2d 294, 326–27 (S.D.N.Y. 2000). Following Reimerdes, the court in Universal City Studios v. Corley, 273 F.3d 429, 450 (2d Cir. 2001) found that code could have both speech and non-speech components, such that the functional (but not expressive) elements of the code may be targeted.

 [103]. Persily, supra note 10.

 [104]. Id.

 [105]. Zeynep Tufekci, Opinion, Zuckerberg’s Preposterous Defense of Facebook, N.Y. Times (Sept. 29, 2017), https://nyti.ms/2yxUydy.

 [106]. Id. See also Nicholas Thompson & Fred Vogelstein, Inside the Two Years that Shook Facebook—and the World, Wired (Feb. 12, 2018, 7:00 AM), https://www.wired.com/story/inside-facebook-mark-zuckerberg-2-years-of-hell.

 [107]. Lisa L. Sharma et al., The Food Industry and Self-Regulation: Standards to Promote Success and to Avoid Public Health Failures, 100 Am. J. Pub. Health 240, 242 (2010), (citing Neil Gunningham & Joseph Rees, Industry Self-Regulation: An Institutional Perspective. 19 Law & Pol’y 363 (1997)).

 [108]. Neil Gunningham & Joseph Rees, Industry Self-Regulation: An Institutional Perspective, 19 Law & Pol’y 363, 401–02 (1997).

 [109]. Edward J. Balleisen & Marc Eisner, The Promise and Pitfalls of Co-Regulation: How Governments Can Draw on Private Governance for Public Purpose, in New Perspectives on Regulation 128 (David Moss & John Cisternino eds., 2009), https://www.tobinproject.org/sites
/tobinproject.org/files/assets/New_Perspectives_Ch6_Balleisen_Eisner.pdf.

 [110]. Id. at 129.

 [111]. Online Behavioral Advertising Compliance, Data & Marketing Ass’n, https://thedma.org
/resources/compliance-resources/online-behavioral-advertising-compliance (last visited Sept. 6, 2018).

 [112]. The “failure to correct” report includes a list of the guidelines violated. Data & Mktg. Ass’n, DMA Annual Ethics Compliance Report, January–December 2016, at 21 (2016), https://thedma.org/wp-content/uploads/Jan-Dec-2016-Ethics-Compliance-Report.pdf.

 [113]. Josh Constine, Facebook Will Hire 1000 and Make Ads Visible to Fight Election Interference, TechCrunch (Oct. 2, 2017), https://techcrunch.com/2017/10/02/facebook-will-hire-1000-and-make-ads-visible-to-fight-election-interference.

 [114]. See generally Richard H. McAdams, The Expressive Powers of Law: Theory and Limits (2015) (proposing that, under certain circumstances, an expressive mechanism causes compliance with a law more so than deterrence or legitimacy); Robert Cooter, Expressive Law and Economics, 27 J. Legal Stud. 585, 585–608 (1998) (discussing an economic theory of expressive law); Richard H. McAdams, An Attitudinal Theory of Expressive Law, 79 Or. L. Rev. 339 (2000) (discussing a “causal theory for the expressive effect of law”) [hereinafter McAdams, An Attitudinal Theory]; Richard H. Pildes & Cass R. Sunstein, Reinventing the Regulatory State, 62 U. Chi. L. Rev. 1, 66 (1995) (discussing the expressive dimensions of legal and political decision-making).

 [115]. McAdams, An Attitudinal Theory, supra note 114, at 342–43. Similarly, removing legal requirements also affects behavior. See, e.g., Patricia Funk, Is There an Expressive Function of Law? An Empirical Analysis of Voting Laws with Symbolic Fines, 9 Amer. L. & Econ. Rev. 135, 148–51 (2007).

 [116]. Pildes & Sunstein, supra note 114, at 66.

 [117]. Eric Lichtblau, F.E.C. Can’t Curb 2016 Election Abuse, Commission Chief Says, N.Y. Times (May 2, 2015) (internal quotation omitted), https://nyti.ms/1E4sjOu. See generally Russ Choma, Get Ready for a Flood of Online Campaign Ads that Will Target and Track You, Mother Jones (Sept./Oct. 2015), http://www.motherjones.com/politics/2015/08/digital-political-election-ads-dark-money (describing how online advertising can be used by political groups to gain valuable information about voters with minimal disclosure).

 [118]. 11 C.F.R. § 110.11(a)(1) (2018).

 [119]. Id. § 110.11(b)(2)–(3). Examples taken from Fed. Election Comm’n, Special Notices on Political Ads and Solicitations 4 (2006), https://transition.fec.gov/pages/brochures/spec_notice
_brochure.pdf.

 [120]. 11 C.F.R. § 110.11(a)(1)–(3) (2018).

 [121]. Id. § 110.11(a)(4); id. § 100.29(a)(1)–(3). The FEC has recently upheld the disclaimer requirement for paid Facebook ads featuring express advocacy. FEC, Advisory Opinion 2017-12 (Dec. 15, 2017).

 [122]. 11 C.F.R. § 100.26 (2018) (“Public communication means a communication by means of any broadcast, cable, or satellite communication, newspaper, magazine, outdoor advertising facility, mass mailing, or telephone bank to the general public, or any other form of general public political advertising. The term general public political advertising shall not include communications over the Internet, except for communications placed for a fee on another person’s Web site.”) (emphasis added); id. § 110.11(a) (defining the scope of disclaimer requirements as limited to public communications, as defined in 11 C.F.R. § 110.26 (2018), and electioneering communications, which, as defined in 11 C.F.R. § 100.29(c)(1) (2018), exclude communications over the Internet).

 [123]. Id. §§ 100.29(a), (c)(1) (2018).

 [124]. See id. § 100.29(c)(1).

 [125]. Id. §§ 110.11(f)(1)(i)(ii).

 [126]. See id. § 110.11(f)(1)(i).

 [127]. See id. § 110.11(f)(1)(ii).

 [128]. Facebook, FEC Advisory Op. Request 2011-09 (Apr. 26, 2011), http://saos.fec.gov/aodocs
/1174825.pdf; FEC, Advisory Opinion 2011-09 (June 15, 2011) (Facebook) (certification of vote), http://saos.fec.gov/aodocs/1176290.pdf; FEC, Advisory Opinion 2011-09 (June 15, 2011) (Facebook) (agenda), http://saos.fec.gov/aodocs/1176195.pdf.

 [129]. Google’s AO request did propose a disclaimer on a landing page. Google, FEC Advisory Op. Request 2010-19 (Aug. 5, 2010), http://saos.fec.gov/saos/searchao?AONUMBER=2010-19.

 [130]. FEC, Advisory Opinion 2017-12, at 2 n.1 (Dec. 15, 2017).

 [131]. Nonconnected committees are a class of committees that includes Leadership PACs and SuperPACs. Types of Nonconnected PACs, Fed. Election Comm’n, https://www.fec.gov/help-candidates-and-committees/registering-pac/types-nonconnected-pacs (last visited Sept. 6, 2018).

 [132]. FEC, Advisory Opinion 2017-05 (Sept. 20, 2017), https://www.fec.gov/files/legal/aos/83543
.pdf (Great America PAC & The Committee to Defend the President).

 [133]. See Liz Kennedy & Alex Tausanovitch, Secret and Foreign Spending in U.S. Elections: Why America Needs the DISCLOSE Act, Ctr. for Amer. Progress (July 17, 2017), https://www.americanprogress.org/issues/democracy/reports/2017/07/17/435886/secret-foreign-spending-u-s-elections-america-needs-disclose-act. See generally WMP/CRP Special Report Outside Group Activity, 2000–2016, Wesleyan Media Project (Aug. 24, 2016), http://mediaproject
.wesleyan.edu/blog/disclosure-report (examining outside group advertising in elections).

 [134]. The FEC and the Federal Campaign Finance Law: Disclosure, Fed. Election Comm’n, http://classic.fec.gov/pages/brochures/fecfeca.shtml#Disclosure (last visited Sept. 6, 2018).

 [135]. Although the primary purpose of 501(c)s must be non-political, they may participate in limited election activities so long as they do not solicit funds with the specification that they will be used for an election-related purpose. 26 U.S.C. § 501(c)(4)(a) (2012). See also Erika Franklin Fowler et al., Political Advertising in the United States 33 (2016). Instead, 501(c)s solicit money generally and may direct some of their resources toward political activities such as purchasing issues ads.

 [136]. See Political Nonprofits (Dark Money), Open Secrets, https://www.opensecrets.org
/outsidespending/nonprof_summ.php (last updated Sept. 6, 2018).

 [137]. Wyden Demands Documents on Possible Links Between Russian Money and NRA, CBS News (Feb. 2, 2018), https://www.cbsnews.com/news/wyden-demands-documents-on-possible-links-between-russian-money-and-nra.

 [138]. Andy Kroll, How Secret Foreign Money Could Infiltrate US Elections, Mother Jones (Aug. 8, 2012), http://www.motherjones.com/politics/2012/08/foreign-dark-money-2012-election-nonprofit.

 [139]. Consolidated Appropriations Act, Pub. L. No. 115-31, 131 Stat. 135 (2017). A similar prohibition exists for IRS.

 [140]. 11 C.F.R. §§ 110.20(e)–(f) (2018).  

 [141]. See Bluman v. FEC, 800 F. Supp. 2d 281, 288 (D.D.C. 2011). See also 52 U.S.C. § 30121 (2012); 11 C.F.R. § 110.20 (2018); Matea Gold, Did Facebook Ads Traced to a Russian Company Violate U.S. Election Law?, Wash. Post (Sept. 7, 2017), http://wapo.st/2wL7Mpc?tid=ss_tw-bottom&utm_term
=.d298c9e82dd8.

 [142]. 11 C.F.R. § 100.16 (2018).

 [143]. See Bluman, 800 F. Supp. 2d at 284; Entous, supra note 20.

 [144]. Sydney Ember, Digital Ad Spending Expected to Soon Surpass TV, N.Y. Times (Dec. 7, 2015), https://nyti.ms/1Qq9rTV.

 [145]. For a discussion of the media exemption, see supra Part I. But we reiterate here that Facebook Pages and fake newspapers like the nonexistent “Denver Guardian” do not qualify for the media exemption. We discuss below why we think the current proposal in the Senate, with its $500 threshold, is too high.

 [146]. The Political File is organized by station and is therefore cumbersome to navigate manually to get a picture of advertising for a statewide or national race over space and time. The Federal Communications Commission (“FCC”) offers an API for researchers to download the information contained in it, but much of the information is stored in PDF documents and handwritten, making it difficult to glean systematic data quickly.

 [147]. The FCC’s website describes the political file content of the Public File as follows:

Political file (as required by [47 C.F.R. §§] 73.3526(e)(6), 73.3527(e)(5) [(2018)]) (retain for two years). This file must contain all requests for specific schedules of advertising time by candidates and certain issue advertisers, as well as the final dispositions or “deals” agreed to by the broadcaster and the advertiser in response to any requests. It is not necessary to retain any of the materials relating to the negotiation between the parties to reach the disposition. Finally, the file must include the reconciliation of the deal such as a description of when advertising actually aired, advertising preempted, and the timing of any make-goods of preempted time, as well as credits or rebates provided the advertiser. The request and disposition must be placed in the file as soon as possible, which the Commission has determined is immediately absent extraordinary circumstances. The reconciliation information need not be placed in the file immediately but the broadcaster must identify a person or persons at the station capable of informing an advertiser of the details of any reconciliation information.

About Public Inspection Files, Fed. Commc’ns Comm’n, https://publicfiles.fcc.gov/about-station-profiles (last visited Sept. 7, 2018). The Political File requirements for cable (47 C.F.R. § 76.1701(d) (2018)) and satellite (47 C.F.R. § 25.701(d) (2018)) track the language for broadcast with some differences that are not material here, with one interesting exception. The Political File for cable must retain a list of the “the chief executive officers or members of the executive committee or board of directors,” as applicable, of any entity that has paid for or furnished television broadcast programming that is ‘political matter or matter involving the discussion of a controversial issue of public importance.’” About Public Inspection Files, Fed. Commc’ns Comm’n, https://publicfiles.fcc.gov/about-station-profiles (quoting 47 C.F.R. § 76.1701(d) (2018)) (last visited Sept. 7, 2018).

 [148]. Hillary Clinton’s campaign paid $3,000 for a thirty-second spot on March 9, 2016, during “Blackish” on KDNL-TV, in the St. Louis area. Hillary For America Political File, KDNL-TV, Fed. Commcn’s Comm’n, https://publicfiles.fcc.gov/tv-profile/kdnl-tv/political-files/2016/federal/president
/a1315a49-66c8-b09e-306f-20b3b4e49d9a (follow “Hillary for America” hyperlink) (last visited Sept. 7, 2017).

 [149]. U.S. v. Alvarez, 567 U.S. 709, 726–27 (2012) (“The remedy for speech that is false is speech that is true.”). Arizona Free Enterprise Club v. Bennett contains dicta implying that facilitating more speech is not a valid regulatory objective under the First Amendment. Ariz. Free Enter. Club v. Bennett, 564 U.S. 721, 750 (2011) (“‘Leveling the playing field’ can sound like a good thing. But in a democracy, campaigning for office is not a game. It is a critically important form of speech.”). In that case, a public financing scheme provided additional funds to candidates facing attacks by outside spenders. Id. at 727–28. Here, the regulation we propose (along with the existing FCC Political File) does not fund speech, it merely reveals the audience to whom an opponent or opposing group spoke. We therefore believe that the more precise Alvarez case about false speech would be more persuasive to the Court than Arizona Free Enterprise.

 [150]. Honest Ads Act, H.R. 4077, 115th Cong. (2017).

 [151]. Antonio García Martínez, who “helped create Facebook’s ad machine,” is skeptical that a repository of every ad run would be informative to viewers. Antonio García Martínez, I Helped Create Facebook’s Ad Machine. Here’s How I’d Fix It, Wired (Sept. 22, 2017, 3:55 PM) [hereinafter García Martínez, Wired], https://www.wired.com/story/i-helped-create-facebooks-ad-machine-heres-how-id-fix-it.

Per [Zuckerberg’s] video [announcing new transparency policies], Facebook pages will now show each and every post, including dark ones (!), that they’ve published in whatever form, either organic or paid. It’s not entirely clear if Zuckerberg intends this for any type of ad or just those from political campaigns, but it’s mindboggling either way. Given how Facebook currently works, it would mean that a visitor to a candidate’s page—the Trump campaign, for instance, once ran 175,000 variations on its ads in a single day—would see an almost endless series of similar content.

Id. We disagree. In the age of big data, smart data journalists and campaigns can distil key information from the repository, even if it does seem initially to contain “an almost endless series of similar content.” Id. The regulatory cat-and-mouse game that emerges is fairly obvious. Advertisers will be incentivized to bury truly objectionable or hateful content as a needle in a haystack of otherwise fairly neutral content, but we are confident that it is not beyond the technological reach of sophisticated campaigns and analysts to find and expose the problematic content.

 [152]. See Elmendorf & Wood, supra note 64, at 33; Ryan D. Enos & Eitan D. Hersh, Campaign Perceptions of Electoral Closeness: Uncertainty, Fear and Over-Confidence, 47 Brit. J. Pol. Sci. 501, 502 (2015).

 [153]. Carol D. Leonning et al., Russian Firm Tied to Pro-Kremlin Propaganda Advertised on Facebook During Election, Wash. Post (Sept. 6, 2017), http://wapo.st/2gN5NLf.

 [154]. Most voters will not explore the repository themselves, of course. Just like with FEC filings and political polling, they will receive the information as it is filtered through the media, as data journalists make browser plugins, and as clever activists attempt to “gamify” learning about campaign advertising.

 [155]. Including ads “swept up” by political targeting categories or by type of advertiser in the repository means that more than mere “electioneering communications” will be included in the repository. We do not see a “constitutional overbreadth” challenge to this as viable, in part because the political file for broadcast and radio advertising implemented by the FCC already includes so-called “issue ads,” which do not reference a candidate in the way that electioneering communications do. Issue ads do not require disclaimers, yet important details about them are made public in the Political File. If regulators or legislators were concerned with a possible overbreadth challenge succeeding, they could make only ads identified under (1), reference to candidates or ballot issues, public. Ads identified by targeting criteria (2) or advertiser (3) could be provided to the regulator to check for potential violations of campaign finance laws. Counter speech would be impossible under this scenario.

 [156]. We are not alone. See, e.g., Kennedy & Tausanovitch, supra note 133. Facebook has gone beyond this in its current iteration of the Archive, with all political ads, issue or advocacy, subject to retention in the archive whenever they are placed. Shining a Light on Ads with Political Content, Facebook Newsroom (May 24, 2018), https://newsroom.fb.com/news/2018/05/ads-with-political-content. Their choice is less “gameable” and less administratively intense than our proposal, which is a more modest extension of current regulations.

 [157]. Facebook’s ad review process says that Facebook will “check your ad’s images, text, targeting, and positioning, in addition to the content on your ad’s landing page. Your ad may not be approved if the landing page content isn’t fully functional, doesn’t match the product/service promoted in your ad or doesn’t fully comply with our Advertising Policies.” Facebook Advertising Policies, Facebook, https://www.facebook.com/policies/ads (last visited Sept. 7, 2018).

 [158]. One aspect of our trigger proposal would be more difficult to administer than the all-ads system that Facebook chose: the platforms would need a complete list of all candidates running for office anywhere in the country to only archive ads placed after candidates announce and issues appear on the ballot. They can work with federal, state, and local regulators to get this information. Our hope is that after the first round of elections in which it occurs, the process will be much easier, though the diversity and instability of thousands of candidate-registry lists on websites nationwide will never mean that this is a simple task. On the other hand, if platforms adopt Facebook’s approach of archiving all political ads without regard to the timing of the election, this is an example of private regulation going further than public regulation might be able to.

 [159]. Eitan Hersh, Hacking the Electorate: How Campaigns Perceive Voters 168–69 (2015).

 [160]. Antonio García Martínez, I’m An Ex-Facebook Exec: Don’t Believe What They Tell You About Ads, Guardian (May 2, 2017), https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2017/may/02/facebook
-executive-advertising-data-comment.

 [161]. García Martínez, Wired, supra note 151.

 [162]. Facebook’s current proposal is to require a U.S. driver’s license and a social security number to promote content. Sarah Perez, Facebook’s New Authorization Process for Political Ads Goes Live in the US, TechCrunch (Apr. 23, 2018), https://techcrunch.com/2018/04/23/facebooks-new-authorization-process-for-political-ads-goes-live-in-the-u-s.

 [163]. We are grateful to Antonio García Martínez, a former Facebook employee, for this insight.

 [164]. L.A., Cal., Code § 49.7.2.F, § 49.7.31–.32 (2018), https://ethics.lacity.org/PDF/laws/law
_CFO.pdf.

 [165]. As we finalize this Article, Twitter has purged 70 million fake accounts and bots— around 20% of its user base. Craig Timberg & Elizabeth Dwoskin, Twitter Is Sweeping Out Fake Accounts Like Never Before, Putting User Growth at Risk, Wash. Post (July 6, 2018), https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2018/07/06/twitter-is-sweeping-out-fake-accounts-like-never-before-putting-user-growth-risk.

 [166]. See Indictment ¶¶ 6–7, U.S. v. Internet Research Agency, L.L.C., 1:18-cr-00032-DLF (D.D.C. Feb. 16, 2018), https://www.justice.gov/file/1035477.

 [167]. This is an improvement over what was promised, which was disclosure of “which page paid for an ad, [and the ability to] visit an advertiser’s page and see the ads they’re currently running to any audience on Facebook.” Mark Zuckerberg, Facebook (Sept. 21, 2017), https://www.facebook.com
/zuck/posts/10104052907253171.

 [168]. Christopher S. Elmendorf et al., Opinion, Open Up the Black Box of Political Advertising, S.F. Chron. (Sept. 23, 2017), http://www.sfchronicle.com/opinion/openforum/article/Open-up-the-black-box-of-political-advertising-12221372.php.

 [169]. See, e.g., Kent Walker, Supporting Election Integrity Through Greater Advertising Transparency, Google: Keyword (May 4, 2018), https://www.blog.google/outreach-initiatives/public
-policy/supporting-election-integrity-through-greater-advertising-transparency.

 [170]. Honest Ads Act, H.R. 4077, 115th Cong. (2017).

 [171]. See generally Hersh, supra note 159 (discussing the consequences of the use of microtargeting by campaigns during elections); Sasha Issenberg, The Victory Lab: The Secret Science of Winning Campaigns (2012) (discussing how social science and analytics are changing political campaigns); Daniel Kreiss, Prototype Politics: Technology­Intensive Campaigning and the Data of Democracy (2016) (providing an analytical framework for understanding why and how campaigns are newly “technology-intensive”).

 [172]. Impressions are simply “eyeballs on ads.” The cost every time someone clicks on an ad through to a landing page (the “click through” rate) is higher, ranging from around 22 to 30 cents per click over the time we’ve written this Article. However, many disinformation ads clicked through to non-functioning landing pages, meaning that they are probably placed for impressions, rather than clicks. Constant repetition in one’s newsfeed from outlandish headlines with provocative pictures may be enough to suppress one’s enthusiasm for a candidate or conversely to mobilize her opponents.

 [173]. García Martínez thinks that the size of the Russian ad buy of $100,000 is “peanuts” and “didn’t influence the election’s outcome.” The peanuts may be in comparison to Facebook’s ad revenues, in which case we agree. No study has yet shown the effect of Russian ads or disinformation ads on social media for getting out the vote or suppressing the vote, so his conclusion that it did not affect the election is untested. García Martínez, supra note 151.

 [174]. FEC, Advisory Opinion 2010-19 (Oct. 8, 2010) (Google, Inc.,); FEC, Advisory Opinion 2011-09 (June 15, 2011) (Facebook) (certification of vote); FEC, Advisory Opinion 2011-09 (June 15, 2011) (Facebook) (agenda); FEC, Advisory Opinion No. 2017-05 (Sep. 20, 2017) (Great America PAC & Comm. to Defend the President).

 [175]. FEC, Advisory Opinion 2017-12 (Dec. 15, 2017) (Take Back Action Fund).

 [176]. FEC Holds Hearing on Internet Communication Disclaimers, Fed. Election Comm’n (June 28, 2018), https://www.fec.gov/updates/fec-holds-hearing-internet-communication-disclaimers.

 [177]. Basic Rules for Disclaimers on Radio and TV Ads, Fed. Election Comm’n (Oct. 21, 2014), https://www.fec.gov/updates/basic-rules-for-disclaimers-on-radio-and-tv-ads.

 [178]. Research in political science suggests that this kind of enhanced disclosure can moderate the effectiveness of negative advertising. Dowling & Wichowsky (2013), supra note 87; Dowling & Wichowsky (2015), supra note 87. Given that disinformation advertising is almost all negative against one candidate, enhanced disclaimers should reduce their effectiveness and, as a result, disincentivize their production and circulation in the first place. We also know that negative ads cite more sources than positive ads, so losing them entirely, while unlikely, may actually reduce voter competence. See Matthew P. Motta & Erika Franklin Fowler, The Content and Effect of Political Advertising in U.S. Campaigns, Oxford Res. Encyclopedia Pol. fig. 4 (Dec. 2016), http://politics.oxfordre.com/view/10
.1093/acrefore/9780190228637.001.0001/acrefore-9780190228637-e-217.

 [179]. See WMP/CRP Special Report Outside Group Activity, 2000–2016, supra note 133; Kennedy & Tausanovitch, supra note 133.

 [180]. John Cook et al., Neutralizing Misinformation Through Inoculation: Exposing Misleading Argumentation Techniques Reduces Their Influence, 12 PLOS ONE 1, 10 (2017).

 [181]. Sander van der Linden et al., Inoculating Against Misinformation, 358 Science 1141, 1141 (2017).

 [182]. See Bad News, GetBadNews, getbadnews.com (last visited Sept. 8, 2018) (hosting a game designed by Cambridge Social Decision-Making Lab members).

 [183]. Another technological fix could be a browser or app plug-in that automatically filters out disinformation advertising that fact checkers have flagged as false, which would have to be a private-sector fix, rather than a government project. Facebook has moved away from using flags for now. Flags actually encouraged more clicks. If it went back to identifying disinformation, Facebook could probably encode the fact that a fact checker disputes the information in the underlying code, for the app or plug-in to filter out.

 [184]. See Omri Ben-Shahar & John A.E. Pottow, On the Stickiness of Default Rules, 33 Fla. St. U. L. Rev. 651 passim (2005).

 [185]. Kate Kaye, Study: Consumers Don’t Know What AdChoices Privacy Icon Is, Ad Age (Jan. 29, 2014), http://adage.com/article/privacy-and-regulation/study-consumers-adchoices-privacy-icon
/291374.

 [186]. See Elmendorf & Wood, supra note 64, at 39–40.

 [187]. See generally Jennifer Jerit & Jason Barabas, Partisan Perceptual Bias and the Information Environment, 74 J. Politics 672 (2012) (finding that people’s perceptions of the world are shaped by their political views).

 [188]. Id. at 673 (internal citation omitted).

 [189]. D.J. Flynn et al., The Nature and Origins of Misperceptions: Understanding False and Unsupported Beliefs About Politics, 38 Advances Pol. Psychol. 127, 132 (2017) (citing C.S. Taber & M. Lodge, Motivated Skepticism in the Evaluation of Political Beliefs, 50 Amer. J. Pol. Sci. 755, 757 (2006)).

 [190]. They can change, but correcting misinformation is difficult. See generally Jennifer L. Hochschild & Katherine Levine Einstein, Do Facts Matter? Information and Misinformation in American Politics, 130 Pol. Sci. Q. 585 (2015) (discussing how people exposed to misinformation resist corrections). One way of correcting information, is to “hit them between the eyes” with factual information. James H. Kuklinski et al., Misinformation and the Currency of Democratic Citizenship, 62 J. Pol. 791, 805 (2000). However, corrections can backfire. See Brendan Nyhan & Jason Reifler, When Corrections Fail: The Persistence of Political Misperceptions, 32 Pol. Beh. 303, 311–22 (2010).

 [191]. Nyhan & Reifler, supra note 190, at 323 (noting that there is also a great deal of evidence that liberals and Democrats also engage in motivated reasoning, though the backfire effect, in particular, was not observed in this particular project).

 [192]. Brendan Nyhan, Why the “Death Panel” Myth Wouldn’t Die: Misinformation in the Health Care Reform Debate, 8 Forum 1, 15 (2010). See also Nyhan, supra note 190, at 311–22.

 [193]. Kerry Flynn, Facebook Is Going After One of the Big Ways Fake News Spreads, Mashable (Aug. 28, 2017) [hereinafter Flynn, Mashable], http://mashable.com/2017/08/28/facebook-fake-news-advertising-crackdown/#BrL7D4yVkaqM.

 [194]. Adam Mosseri, Working to Stop Misinformation and False News, Facebook Newsroom (Apr. 6, 2017), https://newsroom.fb.com/news/2017/04/working-to-stop-misinformation-and-false-news.

 [195]. Jeff Smith et al., Designing Against Misinformation, Medium (Dec. 20, 2017), https://medium.com/facebook-design/designing-against-misinformation-e5846b3aa1e2.

 [196]. Emma Hinchliffe, Facebook Just Quietly Rolled out Its Long-Awaited Solution to Fake News, Mashable (Mar. 4, 2017), http://mashable.com/2017/03/04/facebook-fake-news-rollout/#
.lUNWbQIkOqM. Though note that hoaxes have long existed on Facebook. See, e.g., Karissa Bell, Facebook Is Cracking Down on Hoaxes in Your News Feed, Mashable (Jan. 20, 2015), http://mashable.com/2015/01/20/facebooks-news-feed-hoaxes/#g1usvpOnwmqJ; How is Facebook Addressing False News Through Third-Party Fact-Checkers?, Facebook Help Center, https://www.facebook.com/help/1952307158131536 (last visited Sept. 8, 2017) (placing false stories lower in users’ feeds, and reducing distribution of stories from repeat offenders).

 [197]. Sapna Maheshwari & Sydney Ember, The End of the Social News Era? Journalists Brace for Facebook’s Big Change, N.Y. Times (Jan. 11, 2018), https://www.nytimes.com/2018/01/11/business
/media/facebook-news-feed-media.html.

 [198]. See supra note 29 for definition.

 [199]. See Lehrman, supra note 9.

 [200]. Flynn, Mashable, supra note 193.

 [201]. Mosseri, supra note 194.

 [202]. Patrick Kulp, Facebook Cracks Down on Bogus ‘Likes’ and Zombie Accounts in Battle Against Fake News, Mashable (Apr. 15, 2017), https://mashable.com/2017/04/15/facebook-shuts-down-fake-likes/#0DujDggJ5Pqw. See also Timberg & Dwoskin, supra note 165.

 [203]. Scott Roxborough, How Europe Is Fighting Back Against Fake News, Hollywood Rep. (Aug. 21, 2017), http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/how-europe-is-fighting-back-fake-news-1030837.

 [204]. Id.

 [205]. Id.

 [206]. Id.

 [207]. Voting Day(s), ACE: Electoral Knowledge Network, https://aceproject.org/ace-en
/topics/me/mef/mef04/mef040d (last updated 2012).

 [208]. Catherine Nicholson, French Media Rules Prohibit Election Coverage over Weekend, France 24 (May 7, 2017), https://www.france24.com/en/20170506-france-media-rules-prohibit-election-coverage-over-weekend-presidential-poll; Media Rules During an Election, Elections Ontario, http://www.elections.on.ca/en/media-centre/media-rules-during-an-election.html (last visited Sept. 9, 2018).

 [209]. See Steven J. Balla & William T. Gormley, Jr., Bureaucracy and Democracy, 129–72 (4th ed. forthcoming 2018); Yoon-Ho Alex Lee, Beyond Agency Core Mission, 68 Admin. L. Rev. 551, 553–66 (2016) (reviewing literature on agency mission).

 [210]. Mission and History, Fed. Elections Comm’n, https://www.fec.gov/about/mission-and-history (last visited Sept. 9, 2018).

 [211]. Ann Ravel, Opinion, Dysfunction and Deadlock at the Federal Election Commission, N.Y. Times (Feb. 20, 2017), https://www.nytimes.com/2017/02/20/opinion/dysfunction-and-deadlock-at-the-federal-election-commission.html.

 [212]. See Fed. Election Comm’n, Guidebook for Complainants and Respondents on the FEC Enforcement Process, Fed. Elections Comm’n 12 (2012), https://transition.fec.gov/em
/respondent_guide.pdf.

 [213]. Id.

 [214]. Editorial, Deadlocked in Regulation, Wash. Post (June 15, 2009), http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/06/14/AR2009061402400.html (“The three Republican appointees are turning the commission into The Little Agency That Wouldn’t: wouldn’t launch investigations, wouldn’t bring cases, wouldn’t even accept settlements that the staff had already negotiated. This is not a matter of partisan politics. These commissioners simply appear not to believe in the law they have been entrusted with enforcing.”); Ciara Torres-Spelliscy, The Justice Department Is Now on the Campaign Finance Beat, Brennan Ctr. for Just. (Oct. 12, 2015), https://www.brennancenter.org/blog/justice-department-now-campaign-finance-beat (“With the Federal Election Commission hopelessly deadlocked, campaign finance enforcement is now coming as federal criminal cases.”).

 [215]. Richard L. Hasen, The FEC Is as Good as Dead, Slate (Jan. 25, 2011), http://www.slate.com
/articles/news_and_politics/jurisprudence/2011/01/the_fec_is_as_good_as_dead.html.

 [216]. Ann Ravel, How the FEC Turned a Blind Eye to Foreign Meddling, Politico (Sept. 18, 2017), https://www.politico.com/magazine/story/2017/09/18/fec-foreign-meddling-russia-facebook-215619.

 [217]. 52 U.S.C. § 30106(b)(1) (2012); id. § 30121(a). The Department of Justice prosecutes “serious and willful” violations of our campaign finance laws, as well as criminal issues like fraud.

 [218]. Mission, Fin. Crimes & Enforcement Network, https://www.fincen.gov/about/mission (last visited Sept. 9, 2018).

 [219]. See, e.g., Cal. Gov’t Code § 84504.3 (West 2018); Conn. Gen. Stat. § 9-621 (2018); Del. Code Ann. tit. 15, § 8021 (2018); Me. Rev. Stat. tit. 21-A, § 1014 (2017); Minn. Stat. Ann. § 211B.04 (West 2017).

 [220]. Elmendorf et al., supra note 168.

 [221]. 2018 N.Y. Sess. Laws Ch. 59 (S. 7509-C) (McKinney) (to be codified at N.Y. Elec. Law §§ 14-100, 14-106, 14-107, 14-126).

 [222]. Online Electioneering Transparency and Accountability Act, Md. Code Ann., Elec. Law §§ 1-101(a), (dd-1), (ll-1), (k); 13-306(a)–(e); 13-307(a)–(e), 13-401; 13-403; 13-405; 13-405.1; 13-403; 13-405.2) (West 2018).

 [223]. 2018 Cal. A.B. 2188, Political Reform Act of 1974: Campaign Disclosures: Advertisements.

 [224]. Seattle, Wash., Charter ch. 2.04.280 (2018), https://library.municode.com/WA/seattle
/codes/municipal_code?nodeId=TIT2EL_CH2.04ELCACO_SUBCHAPTER_IIICADI_2.04.280COADDURE.

 [225]. Eli Sanders, Seattle Says Facebook Has Failed to Follow Law on Election Ad Transparency, Stranger (Feb. 5, 2018), https://www.thestranger.com/slog/2018/02/05/25781471/seattle-says-facebook-has-failed-to-follow-law-on-election-ad-transparency.

 [226]. L.A., Cal., Code § 49.7.31–.32 (2017), https://ethics.lacity.org/PDF/laws/law_CFO.pdf.

 [227]. See Elmendorf et al., supra note 168.

Sex, Videos, and Insurance: How Gawker Could Have Avoided Financial Responsibility for the $140 Million Hulk Hogan Sex Tape Verdict – Postscript (Comment) by Christopher C. French

From Volume 90, Number 1 (November 2016)
DOWNLOAD PDF

 

On March 18, 2016, and March 22, 2016, a jury awarded Terry Bollea (a.k.a Hulk Hogan) a total of $140 million in compensatory and punitive damages against Gawker Media for posting less than two minutes of a video of Hulk Hogan having sex with his best friend’s wife. The award was based upon a finding that Gawker intentionally had invaded Hulk Hogan’s privacy by posting the video online.

The case has been receiving extensive media coverage because it is a tawdry tale involving a celebrity, betrayal, adultery, sex, and the First Amendment. The story would be better if all of the characters in the story were not, at best, anti-heroes. Hulk Hogan had sex with his best friend’s wife. Hulk Hogan’s sex partner committed adultery. Hulk Hogan’s best friend, the cuckold, allegedly was the person who videotaped the encounter and then leaked it to Gawker. And, after sleeping with his best friend’s wife, Hulk Hogan had the audacity to sue the cuckold for allegedly leaking the sex tape to Gawker, with the cuckold settling that claim by paying Hulk Hogan $5000. The cuckold then asserted his Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination to avoid testifying in the case against Gawker. On the other side of the story, Gawker, the entity that posted the sex tape online, is a “media gossip” website host and does not look very good attempting to wear the cloak of the First Amendment by claiming that the contents of the Hulk Hogan sex video, as opposed to the simple fact that the tape existed, was newsworthy. Nor did it help Gawker’s image when Gawker’s editor testified that he would only draw the line against posting sex videos if the video included a child under four years old. It is hard to root for any of the parties in the case.

 


 

90_PS1