Saturday, October 16, 2021
Like many, I use “Weird Al” Yankovic’s “Word Crimes” in my legal writing classes. See https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Gv0H-vPoDc. In the past few years, I have added a note about not calling each other “morons” when I play the video. Nonetheless, the song and lyrics still have great examples about why we need Oxford commas, correct apostrophes, and other basic punctuation, all to a catchy tune. Often, I pair this discussion with an analysis of the 2018 Maine dairy delivery drivers’ dispute about a missing comma and overtime pay. See https://www.cnn.com/2017/03/15/health/oxford-comma-maine-court-case-trnd/index.html. I’ve blogged about the Maine case before, as it leads to great teaching discussions. See also Kelly Gurnett, A Win for the Oxford Comma: This Lawsuit Shows Why It’s So Important (updated Nov. 2, 2020), https://thewritelife.com/is-the-oxford-comma-necessary/ (“For anyone who’s ever wondered what all the fuss is about over Oxford commas, the circuit judge’s [dairy drivers’ pay] opinion says it all: ‘For want of a comma, we have this case.’”).
This month, the District Court of New South Wales in Australia gave us another ruling on punctuation, this time involving defamation and a Facebook post. See https://www.theguardian.com/law/2021/oct/10/missing-apostrophe-in-facebook-post-lands-nsw-real-estate-agent-in-legal-hot-water. As New York Times writer Livia Albeck-Ripka explained in her article on the case, “a missing apostrophe in a Facebook post could cost a real estate agent in Australia tens of thousands of dollars after a court ruled a defamation case against him could proceed.” https://www.nytimes.com/2021/10/11/world/australia/facebook-post-missing-apostrophe-defamation.html#:~:text=Missing%20Apostrophe%20in%20Facebook%20Post%20Lands%20a%20Man%20in%20Defamation,mark%20may%20cost%20him%20thousands.
In his Facebook post, real estate agent Anthony Zadravic appeared to accuse Stuart Gan, his former employer at a real estate agency, of not paying into the Australian government retirement fund for all of the agency’s employees, and not just for one employee. Zadravic’s Facebook post stated:
Oh Stuart Gan!! Selling multi million $ homes in Pearl Beach but can’t pay his employees superannuation [for the Australian retirement system]. Shame on you Stuart!!! 2 yrs and still waiting!!!
Id. Gan filed a defamation claim against Zadravic, alleging the Facebook post improperly stated Gan had not paid his contributions for any of his employees, since Zadravic did not use an apostrophe in “employees.”
Although Zadravic explained he meant the singular “employee’s” contributions for his own account, the court refused to dismiss Gan’s case. The court ruled the plural “employees” without an apostrophe could “be read to suggest a ‘systematic pattern of conduct’ by Mr. Gan’s agency rather than an accusation involving one employee.” Id. Thus, the judge allowed the defamation case to move forward.
While there are lower standards for defamation in Australia than in the United States, for example, the punctuation point is well-taken. Just as we teach our students to be cautious in their work texts and avoid imprecise language, emojis, and the like, we should also caution them be careful not only in content, but also in language on social media.
My teen/twenty-something sons will roll their eyes (via emojis, no doubt) at my suggestion we use proper grammar on social media. However, when our students and newer associates are posting about professional matters, they should err on the side of caution. Many employers, in fact, have strict guidelines on social media posts, and using proper punctuation helps ensure compliance.
Thus, whether we use the dairy drivers, “Weird Al’s” YouTube videos, or now the Facebook apostrophe case, we have several fun sources to encourage discussion and create teaching moments on commas, apostrophes, and more.
Sunday, October 10, 2021
I received word this week that Becket is hiring. For those who are not familiar with Becket, it is a leading religious liberty public interest law firm with a superb record before the U.S. Supreme Court. It would be an excellent place to get some appellate experience. The details on the positions are below:
First, Becket is seeking to hire 1-2 new attorneys as Counsel. Ideal candidates will have an appellate clerkship, 1-5 years of post-law-school experience, and excellent litigation skills. You can find more details on the position here: https://www.becketlaw.org/counsel-position/.
Second, Becket is seeking 2-3 new attorneys for its 2022-23 Constitutional Law Fellowship. The fellowship is a one-year position that is open to exceptional recent judicial clerks. It provides immediate, hands-on experience litigating cutting-edge constitutional cases under the mentorship of experienced Becket attorneys. It is also an excellent stepping stone to an additional judicial clerkship, government service, private practice, or public interest law. Fellowships start in fall 2022 and offer a competitive salary and benefits. You can find more details here: https://www.becketlaw.org/constitutional-law-fellow-posting/.
Saturday, October 9, 2021
Each week, the Appellate Advocacy Blog Weekly Roundup presents a few tidbits of news and Twitter posts from the past week concerning appellate advocacy. As always, if you see something during the week that you think we should be sure to include, feel free to send a quick note to either (1) Dan Real at DReal@Creighton.edu or on Twitter @Daniel_L_Real or (2) Catharine Du Bois at DuBoisLegalWriting@gmail.com or on Twitter @CLDLegalWriting.
US Supreme Court Opinions and News
The 2021-22 term began this week, and the Supreme Court held in-person oral argument for the first time since the pandemic closure in May 2020, over 19 months ago. The Court will hear a few interesting and anticipated issues this term. Sources reporting on reopening, the resumption of in-person oral argument, and this term’s agenda include AP News, Reuters, NBC News, The Wall Street Journal, CNN, and the NYT’s The Daily.
The Court’s shadow docket remains in the news and Professor Steve Vladeck has been the primary source. He spoke with NPR’s Steve Inskeep, appeared before the senate to offer testimony on the issue, including how it relates to the Texas abortion ban, and spoke at an event hosted by Notre Dame Law School, titled “Clearing Up Some Misconceptions About the Supreme Court’s Shadow Docket — and Its Critics.”
Appellate Court Opinions and News
The controversial Texas abortion ban was blocked and then reinstated this week. The Texas law bans most abortions after about 6-weeks, making abortion virtually impossible in Texas. Judge Pitman of the District Court for the Western District of Texas blocked the ban, recognizing the deprivation of a constitutionally protected right. Judge Pitman wrote: “[T]here can be no question that [the law] operates as a ban on pre-viability abortions in contravention of Roe v. Wade, and ‘equates to a near categorical ban on abortions beginning six weeks after a woman’s last menstrual period, before many women realize they are pregnant, and months before fetal viability.’” He ends the opinion by finding that “[f]rom the moment [the Texas law] went into effect, women have been unlawfully prevented from exercising control over their lives in ways that are protected by the Constitution. That other courts may find a way to avoid this conclusion is theirs to decide; this Court will not sanction one more day of this offensive deprivation of such an important right.” See Judge Pitman’s decision and reports on the decision from NPR, Reuters, The New York Times, APNews, the Austin American Statesman, and The Washington Post.
Late Friday, the Fifth Circuit stayed Judge Pitman’s order.
The Advocate’s Society, Appellate Advocacy Practice Group: Networking Launch, is offering an online program titled “Dirty Tricks of Appellate Advocacy?” on October 26.
Saturday, October 2, 2021
A Six-Vote Supermajority Requirement is the Solution to De-Politicizing the United States Supreme Court
The United States Supreme Court is struggling to maintain its institutional legitimacy. A recent poll showed that only 40% of Americans approved of the Court. Three factors arguably explain the reasons underlying the public’s negative perception of the Court.
1. Chief Justice John Roberts
Chief Justice John Roberts is a brilliant and accomplished jurist, and by all accounts a good person. But Roberts has contributed substantially to the Court’s compromised legitimacy. This might appear surprising at first glance, considering that Roberts cares deeply about preserving the Court’s legitimacy and is dedicated to ensuring that the Court is not viewed as a political institution.
Sadly, that very concern is precisely what has politicized the Court. The reason is that, in many cases, Roberts decides cases not based on a reasonable interpretation of a constitutional or statutory provision, but on what he believes will preserve the Court’s legitimacy, which essentially means that Roberts decides cases based on how he subjectively believes the public will react.
The problem with that approach should be obvious. It completely divorces the justices from the law, and from their obligation to reach outcomes based on a reasonable interpretation of constitutional and statutory text. In so doing, it enables nine unelected, life-tenured justices to reach outcomes based on their subjective views regarding what outcomes will be viewed as politically “legitimate.” The result is that the Court’s decisions are ipso facto political.
Roberts has been a disappointment on the Court. His approach betrays the rule of law and the judicial role. Put differently, when the justices base decisions on the desire to appear apolitical, they inherently politicize the Court. And Chief Justice Roberts is the Court’s most political actor.
2. The Shadow Docket
The Court’s shadow docket, in which it decides cases and important legal issues without oral argument. For example, in Whole Women’s Health, et al. v. Jackson, the petitioners applied for an order enjoining enforcement of a law in Texas that banned all abortions after six weeks, and that gave private citizens, not the government, the power to enforce the law. The Court denied the application, holding that it did not satisfy the standards required for granting a preliminary injunction. Although this interpretation was not incorrect, it showed that the Court couldn’t see the forest from the trees.
Any person with a pulse would recognize that, whatever one’s views on abortion, the law obviously violated the Court’s poorly-reasoned decisions in Roe v. Wade and Planned Parenthood v. Casey, both of which manipulated the Fourteenth Amendment's Due Process Clause to hold that a woman has the right to terminate a pregnancy before viability (i.e., approximately twenty-four weeks). Thus, because Texas’s law was so ridiculous, the Court should have voted unanimously to invalidate the law. Had the Court done so, it would have sent the message that the justices are not motivated by their policy preferences. Instead, five members of the Court held that the Petitioner failed to satisfy the standards required for granting injunctive relief and allowed the law to go into effect. It should come as no surprise that the usual suspects – those who are almost certainly pro-life – signed onto this decision (Alito, Barrett, Kavanaugh, Thomas, Gorsuch).
So, when the justices express surprise and indignation that the Court is viewed as a political institution and claim that decisions are not based on the policy predilections, it is hard not to laugh.
3. The Justices’ Political Views
If you believe that the justices don’t base their decisions on personal policy predilections, then you probably believe that the United States faked the moon landing or that most law schools are deeply committed to ideological diversity.
Think about it: could you imagine Justice Sotomayor ever invalidating an affirmative action program? Could you ever imagine Justice Thomas or Justice Alito relying on stare decisis to uphold Roe and Planned Parenthood? Could you ever imagine Justice Kagan supporting restrictions on same-sex marriage? No.
And don’t be fooled when the justices claim that their decisions reflect differences in interpretive philosophies. Uh-huh. It’s interesting – and amazingly convenient – that the justices’ interpretive philosophies so often comport with their policy preferences. That isn’t an accident.
This fact does not make the justices bad people. It just means that they are human. It means that their personal views impact their decisions, which is precisely why it is so critical for the Court to base their decisions on a reasonable interpretation of constitutional or statutory text. It is why the Court should refuse to hear most cases where the Constitution is silent or ambiguous, and instead defer to the democratic and political process. Doing so minimizes the risk that personal preferences will triumph over the law, and decreases the likelihood that constitutional meaning will depend on whether the Court’s majority is comprised of liberals or conservatives.
Otherwise, justices will feel free to roam unconstrained in the Constitution’s penumbras, seeking to discover new rights that reflect the “heady days of the here and now.” That approach, which the Court has embraced at times, explains in substantial part why the public doesn’t view the Court favorably.
Chief Justice Roberts is not the solution. Expanding the Court, for obvious reasons, is not the solution. The solution is to require a six-vote supermajority to affirm or reverse a lower court decision.
This solution would have several benefits that would preserve the Court’s legitimacy, protect the separation of powers, and promote democratic choice regarding issues upon which the Constitution is silent. Specifically, 5-4 decisions have been and continue to be the source of substantial disagreement and division. The Court’s decisions in National Federation of Independent v. Sebelius, Obergefell v. Hodges, Shelby County v. Holder, and Bush v. Gore are perfect examples. A six-vote majority would reduce the frequency with which the Court issues divisive, controversial – and politicized – decisions.
Furthermore, requiring a six-vote majority would almost certainly lead to incremental, rather than drastic, changes in the law and minimize the risk that the Court’s decisions will be perceived as political and illegitimate. To achieve a six-vote majority, the justices would be forced to compromise and reach a middle ground concerning decisions that affect, among other things, civil rights and liberties. As such, the influence of ideology or policy preferences in the decision-making process would likely be minimized.
Finally, a six-vote majority might incentivize litigants to stop seeking social change through the courts and instead concentrate their efforts on effecting change through the legislature. Doing so would limit the Court’s power in a principled way. The Court would still decide cases that involved violations of specific constitutional or statutory guarantees, but a six-vote majority requirement would make it difficult, if not impossible, for the Court to create rights based on implausible interpretations of the Constitution and thus engender public backlash.
Without principled reforms, the public perception of the Court will likely remain negative, and with several controversial issues on its current docket, the Court’s legitimacy is likely to go anywhere but up.
 See Jeffrey M. Jones, Approval of Supreme Court Down to 40%, A New Low (Sep. 23, 2021), available at: Approval of U.S. Supreme Court Down to 40%, a New Low (gallup.com)
 Obergefell v. Hodges, 576 U.S. 644 (2015) (Roberts, C.J., dissenting).
October 2, 2021 in Appellate Advocacy, Appellate Court Reform, Appellate Justice, Appellate Practice, Appellate Procedure, Current Affairs, Federal Appeals Courts, Legal Profession, United States Supreme Court | Permalink | Comments (0)
Sunday, September 26, 2021
In the late 1980s, I was invited to participate in a project designed to help the Supreme Court of India address a backlog of cases that stretched back a decade. One obvious problem, it seemed to me, was that oral argument for a single case could span days or, in important matters, more than a week, as argument seemed to give rise to lengthy flights of oratory. On my second day in New Delhi, I met with members of their Supreme Court bar. Soon after the meeting began, one practitioner sought to confirm that the U.S. Supreme Court limited oral argument to 30 minutes per side. Upon receiving an affirmative answer to that question, he then asked, “how do you even warm up?”
The events of that morning recurred to me when I read the Supreme Court’s recent announcement that it was adopting a new procedure as oral argument returned to the courtroom after a pandemic-period process of argument by telephone. The procedure for telephone arguments gave the advocate two uninterrupted minutes to introduce the argument, followed by two minutes of questioning by each justice, seriatim, in order of descending seniority. The procedure was a significant departure from the free-for-all arguments that earned the Court the reputation as a hot bench.
That type of fast and furious questioning during in-court oral argument is often associated with the late Justice Antonin Scalia, who showed no reticence in lobbing question after question at counsel even during his freshman term. Scalia’s then-unusual amount of questioning reportedly caused Justice Lewis Powell to wonder if the new justice even realized the rest of them were there. By the time Justice Clarence Thomas joined the Court, nearly all justices had adopted an active questioning style, though Thomas, believing it was important to let the advocates speak, remained largely silent for years at a time. During the pandemic’s telephone procedure, though, Thomas, as the senior associate justice, became a regular questioner, showing that procedural changes in oral argument can affect its dynamics.
As the Court gets underway for the new term, it has adopted a combination of the two procedures. Advocates will still experience 30 minutes of sharp questioning, but then time is added to allow the justices to ask additional questions in order of seniority, just as they did when arguments were conducted by phone. One of my co-bloggers has already expressed approval of the new format https://tinyurl.com/2r49ufkc. I’m more skeptical.
Although the Court has admonished advocates to “respond directly to the questions posed,” rather than make “additional arguments not responsive to the question,” some oralists, no doubt will find the opportunity to relate an answer to an argument not yet covered in the courtroom irresistible. Those who can do that seamlessly will likely get away with it. One obvious change is that the new procedure is likely to extend oral argument to unknowable lengths of time. Perhaps the justices will have asked all their questions in the earlier period, but that seems unlikely. The extra time will not just lengthen the arguments, but will likely shift oral argument strategy, based on the knowledge that some issues the advocate purposely reserves are likely to be aired during the justice-by-justice round.
In addition, the new procedure may change a justice’s decision about when to ask a question. Some justices may choose to forego a question during the unstructured argument time because another justice is forcefully seeking an answer to something else during that earlier period. Rather than interrupt the line of questioning as often occurred in the past, a justice may reserve the issue for the latter time period. Doing so, however, could be a disservice. The answer elicited may show the issue to be a critical one that deserves more time for exploration than might remain, which may not have been true if raised earlier.
Moreover, when questions are posed in order of seniority, particularly subsequent to the usual oral-argument period, the number of questions left unasked will diminish by the time the more junior justices have their turns. If the junior justices begin to appear mute as the formal questioning ends, courtwatchers and the public may mistakenly take away a false impression of disinterest. To combat that image, a junior justice may feel impelled to jump into the conversation more actively in the earlier part of the argument than they might otherwise choose to do. The result will undoubtedly affect the nature of oral argument, but in an artificial way.
Appellate lawyers – and appellate courts – will watch closely as the new procedure is implemented. Advocates will adjust their strategies, the Court itself may tinker with the procedure as experience suggests changes, and federal circuit courts may choose to adopt it or a variant on it for their own arguments. When telephone arguments were in place, Chief Justice John Roberts kept a firm hand on limiting the justices to their allotted questioning time. The new procedure, which has no apparent time limits on the justices’ questions or the responses, may call for even more stark time management – perhaps even as strict as those enforced by Chief Justice Charles Evans Hughes, who, when time was up, could stop an advocate in the middle of the word “if.” With the new term commencing October 4, many people will be watching the process of oral argument with the same intensity as they scrutinize the merits of the arguments themselves.
Thursday, September 23, 2021
The Journal of Appellate Practice & Process is currently accepting submissions for Volume 23, Issue 1, to be published in late 2022/early 2023.
This issue will focus on appellate issues in and around Indian Country. We welcome articles on appellate practice in Tribal Courts, articles exploring Tribal sovereignty and appellate justice, articles that explore jurisdictional questions raised by recent U.S. Supreme Court decisions, and other essays or articles addressing appellate practice issues in and around Indian Country. We welcome articles by academics, judges, and practitioners.
Essays and articles should not exceed 15,000 words in length. Please submit all papers to Prof. Tessa L. Dysart (firstname.lastname@example.org) by June 1, 2022. Acceptances will be emailed by August 1, 2022.
The Journal of Appellate Practice and Process is a professionally edited Journal that focuses on appellate law topics. According to HeinOnline, it is the “the only scholarly law journal to focus exclusively on issues, practices, and procedures of appellate court systems, both federal and state, both American and international.” It “provides a forum for creative thought and dialogue about the operation of appellate courts and their influence on the development of the law.”
Since its founding in 1999, The Journal has published scores of important articles. Chief Justice William H. Rehnquist and Justices John Paul Stevens and Stephen G. Breyer have written for The Journal. So influential is the Journal that courts often refer to it in their opinions, with over 100 citations in 2019 alone.
The Journal moved to the University of Arizona James E. Rogers College of Law in June 2020. It is edited in partnership with the National Institute for Trial Advocacy. You can find out more about the Journal at www.appellatejournal.com.
Thursday, September 16, 2021
For law students (and some lawyers) appellate argument can be a mystery. It's definitely not the first thing the average layperson thinks about when someone mentions "legal argument." Even when Law and Order made a half-hearted attempt to show an argument at an appellate court, it didn't get it right (for example, I've never gotten a ruling from the bench as soon as the argument was over). And the misconceptions about appellate argument sometimes lead to strange behavior even from attorneys: advocates objecting during opposing counsel's argument (yes, that really happens); appellant's attorneys requesting to reserve their entire time for rebuttal (I've seen that happen, too); and lawyers calling opposing counsel their "friend" (okay, some U.S. Supreme Court advocates do that and maybe some of you think it is fine, too).
De-mystifying appellate argument means not only understanding the basics but also understanding the nuances. Anyone who has ever argued in an appellate court or taught students how to make oral arguments knows the basics: make the argument conversational; be prepared for questions; smoothly return to your argument after answering a question. And, of course, an advocate should know the substance of an argument inside and out. But what are some of the finer points of appellate argument that often are missed both by advocates and students?
- Exude Confidence: Doing my best Yogi Berra imitation, I often tell students that being successful in an appellate argument is 95% knowing the facts and the law and 95% sounding like you know what you are talking about. In reality, knowing the facts and the law in depth should lead to more confidence. In the end, why should an appellate court agree with your argument if you don't sound like you believe in what you saying? Even if you aren't so sure yourself, you are representing a client expecting zealous representation. And the other side is going to have a zealous advocate, so you should be one as well.
- Control Your Body Language: Even before you say your first word at an appellate argument, your body is already speaking to the court. The body tells the truth. If you are confident in what you are going to say (see above), then approach the lectern with confidence and own the stage you have been given.
- Vary Delivery: An appellate argument should ebb and flow. Much like a singing performance is rarely effective at 100% volume throughout, an argument without variation will either put the court to sleep or, even worse, cause you to lose your case. Vary pitch, vary pace, vary volume. This will hold the court's attention, properly emphasize the points you want to emphasize, and downplay facts and law that are bad for your argument.
- Pause: Oral advocates often feel that any dead time in their argument, even a brief second or two, is bad. On the contrary, oral advocates probably don't pause enough. Some pauses are good for effect; others are good because they allow the advocate more time to reflect upon an answer. The mind works very quickly, so it doesn't have to be (and you don't want it to be) a long pause if you are trying to come up with an answer. I often suggest to students that they begin drinking some water, if available, when a question is being asked. Judges will not be thrown off by an advocate finishing their sip briefly as the question concludes. This buys just a little more time for formulating the perfect (or near-perfect) answer.
- Control Your Zone of Authority: In conjunction with the use of body language, advocates should control their zone of authority--the area immediately around them that they control. Look judges in the eye, don't break the zone by bending over or looking around the courtroom, keep gestures within the zone, and never point. As my students also always hear me say, don't take a pen with you to the lectern! You likely won't have the opportunity to write anything down while you are arguing. And you are more likely to cause a distraction with the pen by waving it around, pointing with it, or tapping it on the lectern.
- Start/Finish Strong: Start the argument with your theme and end with your theme. Grab the court's attention at the beginning. Then remind the court again what the case is really about when you conclude. Listeners (like readers) tend to remember and are more affected by the beginning and the end of an argument than what is in the middle.
The basics of an appellate argument are important without a doubt. But mastering the nuances will make an argument even more polished and persuasive.
Sunday, September 12, 2021
“Interrogate the cases.” With that interesting turn of phrase, Michael Dreeben, a veteran of the U.S. Solicitor General’s Office, told an online audience last week that appellate advocates need to do more than read and study the cases that form the basis of each sides’ arguments. The half-day session, sponsored by the Fourth Circuit, contained a number of nuggets from judges and practitioners useful to any appellate practice.
Of course, there is no single way to argue a case, and two advocates can take very different approaches yet still achieve equal success. But when experienced voices from the bench and bar dispense advice, paying attention becomes the order of the day -- even if that advice does not work for you or, in your opinion, would not work for most people.
When Dreeben advised that appellate counsel “interrogate the cases,” he explained that it was important to examine more than a case’s facial holdings and reasoning. Interrogation meant that it was important to scrutinize the foundations of the decision’s results, its take on cited precedents, and its treatment in different contexts by other courts. Every appellate lawyer knows how to rely on a straightforward application of a decision’s essential holding or how to distinguish an opinion that has problematic application to the position you are taking. However, the suggestion to “interrogate” requires an advocate to go deeper and expose the either stronger basis for the rule announced by a case, or the weaker underpinning for it, perhaps based on a skewed interpretation of existing precedential building blocks.
Another useful perspective that Dreeben advocated lawyers adopt was to compose your argument while bearing in mind what does an intelligent jurist want to know to get the answer right? His experience taught him that most judges want to find the right answer. Consider what, whether based on the factual record or the posture of the law, will provide the tools that will help the judge rule your way. While anticipating what the inquiring mind of a generic judge might need to rule in your favor, it also helps to know your court and the judges who serve on it. Doing so will guide you about a judge’s willingness to consider legislative history or other tools that you might employ.
Looking at a case from every angle is a common refrain in appellate advocacy seminars, though the advice often has little content. Underscoring what it really means, Judge Paul Niemeyer called knowing how you can lose the case is “one of the most important aspects of preparation.” It forces you to consider the weaknesses in your argument and address them – or, explain why the problem you face does not doom your case.
Another experienced appellate practitioner, Kannon Shanmugam, provided some practical tips on modern brief-writing. He explained that, today, most judges read briefs on-screen, rather than plow through paper copies. To prevent points from being lost, he uses fewer footnotes than he once did to avoid forcing the judge to scroll up and down the page. Briefs should help the court reach a result. Shanmugam said that he considered a brief that runs 12,999 words, when the limit is 13000, a “tell” that the advocate has not helped the court by limiting the brief to its most essential focus.
Judge Niemeyer echoed a similar sentiment, calling for shorter, more focused briefs. He said he finds shorter briefs more powerful than the ponderous ones that are too frequently filed. He also warned against overuse of string citations: “Don’t just list cases. Argue.”
Finally, Judge Stephanie Thacker offered one other practical point that may often be overlooked. “My favorite part of a brief,” she said, “is the summary of argument.” She urged counsel not to give it short shrift or treat it as an afterthought. Instead, it should provide the reader with a clear and concise explanation of the facts and law. It helps the judge understand the entire argument and provides a basis for narrowing the issues the judge might believe critical to the ultimate resolution of the case.
* * *
In a posting last month, I discussed arguments made in three briefs filed in short order, each of which sought the reversal of a precedents. One of those cases was Oklahoma v. Bosse, where the State of Oklahoma filed a petition for certiorari that asked the Court to reconsider its year-old decision in McGirt v. Oklahoma, because of the dire consequences the state had experienced since the decision. Less than a month after filing its petition, Oklahoma dismissed it, reserving for another day and another case its argument on why McGirt should be overturned.
 No. 21-186, Pet. for Certiorari (S.Ct. Aug. 6, 2021).
 140 S. Ct. 2452 (2020).
Thursday, September 9, 2021
Thursday's Rhaw Bar: The Objectives and Means of Brief Writing: Who Makes the Rhetorical Choices? Does it Matter?
Thursday’s Rhaw Bar: A Little Bite of All Things Rhetoric and Law—exploring ideas, theories, strategies, techniques, and critiques at the intersection of rhetoric and legal communication.
This semester, I’m teaching Professional Responsibility to about 145 second-year law students. We are on the topic of how the ethics rules allocate decision-making between lawyers and clients. The allocation of decision-making is an ethical question addressed the American Bar Association’s Model Rules of Professional Conduct, which is a good approximation for the individual state ethics rules. Model Rule 1.2 (a) and Comment 5 provide that
[A] lawyer shall abide by a client’s decisions concerning the objectives of representation, and . . . shall reasonably consult with the client about the means by which [the objectives] are to be pursued. A lawyer may take such action on behalf of the client as is impliedly authorized to carry out the representation. . . . Clients normally defer to the special knowledge and skill of their lawyer with respect to the means to be used to accomplish their objectives, particularly with respect to technical, legal and tactical matters.
Objectives, Means & The Appellate Brief
Applying this rule to appellate lawyers writing briefs seems straightforward. When a client decides to appeal a trial court decision, the objective is simple; reverse or somehow otherwise turn the trial court’s decision to the appellant’s favor. An appellee has the opposite objective—convince the appellate court to affirm what the trial court did. (Of course, I’m oversimplifying a bit here—there could be other objectives like, for example, filing an appeal to encourage the other side to settle. But generally, the client’s objective is to win on appeal.) Once the objective of winning on appeal has been set, appellate lawyers, after consulting with the client, decide upon the means to accomplish those objectives. In the context of the appeal, those means almost certainly include crafting winning arguments in the appellate briefs. In that case, it would seem that the lawyer’s rhetorical choices, that is, the strategies and tactics of persuasion the lawyer chooses in writing an appellate brief, are the means of accomplishing the client’s objective. If that’s the case, then the ethics rule above suggests that the client should defer to the lawyer on those choices.
So, we might conclude that content of the brief is almost always the means and not the objective of representation. In other words, it is the appellate lawyer’s task to decide on the strategies and tactics of producing persuasive arguments, of engaging in rhetoric as a productive art. (I wrote about this concept of rhetoric as productive art last month.) If rhetoric is a productive art, then one would think that all of the rhetorical choices in a brief, including what issues and arguments to raise and how to raise them are within the lawyer’s purview to decide. Maybe consultation is required under the ethical rule, but nothing more. (In fact, in states with ethics codes like Florida, the comments to the rule suggest the lawyer is to “accept responsibility” for the means, which is slightly more clear than the ABA’s Model Rules on the role of the lawyer regarding the means.)
But is it really such an easy call, to say that it is ethical for the lawyer to make decisions about the choices about what is persuasive in a a brief? Maybe, maybe not. Perhaps surprisingly, the United States Supreme Court has something to say about this question in the context of the Sixth Amendment right to effective assistance of counsel in criminal cases on appeal. Even if one is a civil appellate lawyer without the constitutional obligations of the criminal appellate lawyer, the case is nevertheless a fascinating case to know something about, because the opinion helps us ask questions and think more deeply about the rhetorical choices lawyers make when they write appellate briefs.
Raising Issues on Appeal: The Supreme Court’s View in Jones v. Barnes
In 1976, a New York state jury convicted David Barnes of robbery and assault. Michael Melinger was assigned to represent Barnes on appeal. From prison, Barnes contacted Melinger, sending him a letter identifying the issues that Barnes thought should be raised on appeal. Barnes also enclosed his own pro se brief.
Melinger responded to Barnes rejecting most of his suggested issues and inviting Barnes to consider and respond to the seven issues Melinger concluded could be viable on appeal. Barnes never responded.
In the end, Melinger’s appellate brief (and his oral argument) included three of the seven issues he originally identified and none of Barnes’s. But Melinger also filed with the appeals court Barnes’s pro se brief. Melinger lost the appeal.
In later proceedings seeking relief from his conviction, Barnes alleged that because Melinger refused to raise the issues that Barnes wanted raised on appeal, Melinger had provided ineffective assistance of counsel under the U.S. Constitution’s Sixth Amendment guarantee of a defendant’s right to counsel.
This issue eventually made its way to the United States Supreme Court, and in 1983, the Supreme Court held that Melinger did not violate the Sixth Amendment when he refused to raise the issues Barnes had wanted. Ultimately, the Court, said, an indigent defendant had no constitutional right to “compel counsel to press nonfrivolous points requested by the client, if counsel, as a matter of professional judgment, decides not to press those points.”
The appellate advocate’s “superior skill” and “professional judgment” in selecting the most persuasive issues on appeal occupied most of the Court’s reasoning in the majority opinion. Citing commentators on appellate advocacy, the court celebrated the skill of the “discriminating advocate” to “winnow out weaker arguments on appeal and focus on . . . at most a few key issues.” A good appellate advocate knows, the Court implied, which issues are most “promising” for appeal, and the lawyer should be the one to choose which of the “few major points” should be raised. The discerning appellate advocate knows that raising too many issues in a brief “dilutes the force of the stronger ones.” Ultimately the Court said, “A brief that raises every colorable issue runs the risk of burying good arguments—those that . . . ‘go for the jugular,” . . .—in a verbal mound made up of strong and weak contentions.”
In a footnote, the majority implied that not only would a lawyer act constitutionally in selecting the issues on appeal, they would act ethically as well. The footnote pointed to the ethical duty of the lawyer for the means under the recently adopted Model Rules of Professional Conduct Rule 1.2(a) and noted that the rule expects the lawyer to “take professional responsibility for the conduct of the case, after consulting with the client.”
In his concurrence, Justice Blackmun agreed with the majority that Melinger did not violate the Constitution regarding the “ideal allocation of decision-making authority between lawyer and client.” But, Blackman said, as a matter of ethics, he thought an appellate attorney should advise the client on the issues “most likely to succeed,” and, in the end, “should argue on appeal all nonfrivolous claims upon which his client insists.”
Dissenting, Justice Brennan concluded that Melinger’s apparent refusal to raise Barnes’s issues on appeal violated the Sixth Amendment. At least in the context of an indigent defendant with court-appointed counsel, the autonomy and dignity of that defendant is the dominant concern, Brennan said. Accordingly, the defeindant retained the right to make the decision about which nonfrivolous issues to raise on appeal, even if that went against the advice of counsel. Even though Brennan agreed with the majority that “good appellate advocacy demands selectivity among arguments,” and that advice “should be taken to heart by every lawyer called upon to argue and appeal,” he found that indigent defendant did not have to follow that advice. Brennan noted that the ABA’s Criminal Justice Standards (still in effect today) stated that, as an ethical matter, the decision about what “contentions” to “press” on appeal was to be decided by the client.
Brennan was further skeptical of the majority’s view of the importance of the lawyer’s rhetorical choices at the appellate stage. He thought that judges could effectively recognize meritorious arguments, even if the lawyer did not do such a great job in separating the wheat from the chaff. Brennan said: “[E]ven if [arguments are] made less elegantly or in fewer pages than the lawyer would have liked, and even if less meritorious arguments accompany it, [a judge can recognize a good argument.] If the quality of justice in this country is really dependent on nice gradations in lawyers’ rhetorical skills, we could no longer call it ‘justice.’” In only a handful of cases, “especially at the appellate level,” Brennan observed, would “truly skillful advocacy” make a difference in vindicating good claims and rejecting bad ones.
Some Thoughts About Decision-Making, Ethics, and Rhetorical Choices in Appellate Briefs
So, what then, do we have here?
Ethically, the Model Rules establish lawyers are responsible, after consultation with the client, for the means of the case and, clients, the objectives. The majority of the Supreme Court holds in Jones that it is constitutional for a lawyer to decide which issues to raise in a criminal appeal and suggests in dicta that selecting issues on appeal is, for ethics purposes, a mean for which the lawyer is responsible. Conversely, both the concurrence and dissent suggest that the decision about which issues to raise on appeal are so important for a criminal defendant that, ethically (in Blackmun’s dicta) and constitutionally and ethically (in Brennan’s opinion), the choice is an objective for the client to decide.
The implications for Jones v. Barnes are clear for the appellate lawyer representing indigent criminal defendants: constitutionally, if the lawyer wants to take over the decision-making about what to raise on appeal, the lawyer can do so. (While the Supreme Court suggests it is also ethical, that is dicta, and the ABA’s Criminal Justice Standards suggest a different result. The ethics, then, are perhaps not so clear.) For civil appellate lawyers, on the other hand, the implications of Jones are indirect but interesting. The opinion is worth contemplating because it gets us thinking about the ethics and professionalism of rhetorical choices in briefs and whether rhetorical choices in briefs have any meaning at all.
Is brief writing a mean or an objective?
On its face, one might not immediately think about the ethics of decision-making allocation when deciding how and what to write in an appellate brief. It might seem counterintuitive that the choice about whether to raise a particular issue would be anything other than a mean for accomplishing the client’s objectives. Accordingly, most lawyers, while consulting with their clients about the brief and perhaps even taking suggestions on a brief’s contents, would consider themselves to be ultimately responsible for making choices about how the brief will persuade.
But Jones might make the appellate lawyer pause and consider whether there are situations in the civil context where the issues raised on appeal are objectives rather than means. One might imagine that experienced appellate lawyers can readily share stories where they found themselves in that situation. In some contexts, perhaps, the client’s desire to have their voice be heard in a particular way or to “have their day in court” becomes a driving force behind the content of the brief, even if the lawyer doesn’t necessarily think that every issue or argument raised in the brief is legally important. Instead, those issues and arguments might be seen to have a different rhetorical importance—to create in the client feelings of meaningfulness, to feel heard, to feel seen. Maybe Brennan’s argument for client autonomy and dignity in Jones, even if only analogically and in principle, should extend to all appellate litigants.
Are legal issues created or identified?
Another question Jones raises is the nature of “issue identification” as a rhetorical (i.e., persuasive) act. That is, do lawyers create issues for argument or do they find them? In other words, if issues raised on appeal are the product of a lawyer’s rhetorical imagination—the product of the lawyer’s ability to invent argument—then the case for issues identification as a mean rather than an objective of the representation is stronger. But, if the legal issues exist outside of the lawyer’s imagination, only to be identified rather than created, then maybe there’s less of convincing argument that choosing issues on appeal is a means instead of an objective.
But, on the other hand, even issue identification is a rhetorical act. Aristotle, for example, suggested that logical arguments are informed by artistic and inartistic proofs. Artistic proofs, Aristotle said, are created by the rhetor. An inartistic proof exists in sources outside the rhetor, such as in documents, facts, and other data. So, even if the issues to be raised on appeal are inartistic and not a product of the lawyer’s inventive capacities, there are still rhetorical choices a lawyer makes in finding and selecting those issues. (I tend to think that legal issues are created rather than found, but that depends on one’s view of the rhetorical situation. This classic debate between rhetoric scholars Lloyd Bitzer and Richard Vatz gets at that issue.)
Which rhetorical choices are means? Which ones are objectives?
Another question that Jones evokes is, if one agrees with Brennan’s view that some rhetorical choices are objectives rather than means, then which ones are which? For example, an appellate brief should have a theme. If, as Brennan suggests, the choice of issues can be an objective, is the theme an objective or a mean? How about metaphors? How about references to history or popular culture that help make a point? All of these choices give an appellate brief its character. Does that character belong, ultimately and ethically, to the lawyer or the client? Whose rhetoric—the lawyer’s or the client’s—should a brief reflect? And then, what should the appellate lawyer do about it?
Does the appellate lawyer’s professional expertise in legal rhetoric matter?
And finally, what might appellate lawyers make of Justice Brennan’s suggestion that except for a small handful of cases, the lawyer’s rhetorical choices in a brief—good or bad—are not so important? Brennan’s argument is just the opposite of the majority’s, which places great value on the professional expertise of the appellate lawyer. Brennan, instead, minimizes the value of the appellate lawyer’s contribution to justice, suggesting instead that, in most cases, judges can figure out the right result regardless of the effectiveness of the brief writing. If that is the case, what is the value the appellate lawyer adds in anything but a handful of cases? If the rhetorical, i.e., persuasive, writing of the appellate lawyer does not matter so much, then what does matter? And, if persuasive writing doesn’t really matter, then maybe in appellate brief writing, it doesn’t really matter if rhetorical choices are objectives or means.
Ultimately, I think that the lawyer’s rhetorical skill is most often a means to accomplish the client’s objectives that is influential and meaningful in the judicial process. That skill guides the decision maker, invents effective argument, brings perspective, and, perhaps, most importantly, shapes the law. Brennan acknowledged in his dissent that lawyers do, in some cases, help “shape the law.” This impact is even more obvious where judges, in written opinions, overtly respond to the arguments that the lawyers have raised. And an appellate lawyer’s writing, if not legally, then materially, gives the client voice in a system that may seem to be impenetrable, incomprehensible, and unfair. This makes the appellate lawyer’s rhetorical skill critical, particularly for clients who are not able to effectively do that for themselves regardless of whether a judge can find the just result all on their own.
That being said, Jones v. Barnes reminds that even if rhetorical choices in brief writing are most likely a means to accomplish the client’s objectives and that civil appellate lawyers are most often the last line of decision-making in which issues to raise on appeal, clients of all stripes deserve an opportunity to influence and their own voice to those choices. In fact, that kind of consultation can make briefs even more rhetorically effective because clients can invent arguments, too.
What have I missed in my analysis here? What do you think the ethics and rhetoric of raising issues in briefs? Your thoughts are welcome in the comments below.
Kirsten Davis teaches at Stetson University College of Law and in the Tampa Bay region of Florida. She is the Director of the Institute for the Advancement of Legal Communication. The Institute’s mission is to study legal communication issues and provide programming and training that improves legal communication skills. Among other things she’s up to right now, she’s currently serving on the Florida Bar Association’s Special Committee on Professionalism. The views she expresses here are solely her own and not intended to be legal advice. You can reach Dr. Davis at email@example.com.
Tuesday, September 7, 2021
The Supreme Court of Ohio, Commission on Professionalism, has published Professionalism Dos & Don’ts: Legal Writing. Each Do and Don’t has several subpoints. Over the next few months, I plan to take a more in-depth look at some of these Dos and Don’ts and offer examples and suggestions for how appellate advocates can implement the Dos and avoid the Don’ts. This is the fifth post in the series.
Do provide appropriate signposts:
- Do consider using headings and summaries.
- Do use transitions between sections that guide the reader from one argument to the next, especially in longer pieces of writing.
The Commission on Professionalism asks us to consider using headings and summaries, but there’s nothing to consider, we should use headings and summaries. It is always our goal to make our writing clearer and thus to make our reader’s job easier. Headings and summaries help us do that. Transitions do too. They allow our reader to move seamlessly from one topic to the next
1. Point headings make our writing better.
Headings (here we’re talking about point headings) make our writing clearer because they show the structure of our writing, convey key points, and create white space. So let’s talk about how to create useful headings.
A. Point headings are topic sentences.
Point headings serve as the topic sentences of the paragraphs that follow. They tell your reader what you’re going to discuss. Be sure that the paragraphs that follow a point heading, and the sentences within each paragraph, relate directly to the point heading. If they don’t then you need to re-think your point heading or the paragraphs that follow it.
B. Point headings should be full sentences.
Your point headings should be full sentences and they should convey substantive information. Which of these point headings is better
1. Strict Scrutiny.
2. The statute creates a class of disfavored speakers, so it is subject to strict-scrutiny review.
The second heading tells the reader the substance they should be learning in the subsequent paragraphs—how the statute creates a class of disfavored speakers and why strict scrutiny applies.
C. Point heading should look like sentences.
Because point headings are full sentences, they should look like sentences. They should not be written in ALL CAPITAL LETTERS, nor should they be written in Initial Capital Letters. Save those styles for your section headings.
D. Point headings are not just for the argument section.
Point headings are helpful in the fact section of briefs too. Again, they convey substantive information, show the structure of the fact section, and create white space. Here is an example:
1. In 2007 the National Parties negotiated a new collective bargaining agreement that contained a two-tier wage system.
The sentences that follow that point heading explain how and why the National Parties negotiated a two-tier wage structure.
E. Point headings serve as a check on your analysis.
If you’ve created good point headings, you should be able to look at them and understand the structure of your argument. If you can’t, then you need to re-write your point headings or re-organize your analysis.
F. Good point headings start with a good outline.
The simplest way to ensure that you’re creating good point headings and that you’ve created a well-reasoned argument is to spend time outlining your brief. You can then turn the points of your outline into point headings.
G. You should include point headings in your Table of Contents.
Once you’ve written your brief and included good point headings, be sure to include the point headings in your Table of Contents. Doing so allows you to start persuading your reader sooner because they can see the key facts of your case and the key points of your argument just by reading your Table of Contents. Compare these examples:
Good point headings make your writing clearer and allow your reader to follow the structure of your argument. Summaries do too.
2. Summaries make our writing better.
Summaries should provide a brief overview of what you will discuss. Summaries allow you to orient a reader who is unfamiliar with a topic or issue. They give the reader a base of knowledge from which to work and help them better understand the information that you provide. Think of your summary as your elevator pitch.
After you’ve created good point headings and helpful summaries, think about ways you can transition your reader smoothly from one topic to the next.
3. Transitions make your writing easier to follow.
A good transition should remind your reader what they just learned and prime them to receive additional information. Good transitions connect the parts of your writing to avoid sudden shifts between topics or arguments. They allow your reader to move smoothly from one subject to the next and show that there is a logical structure and flow to your writing.
Good point headings, summaries, and transitions work together to create a logical flow to your writing. The effort you put into crafting these parts of your brief will make your reader’s work easier and thus help you be a better advocate.
September 7, 2021 in Appellate Advocacy, Appellate Practice, Federal Appeals Courts, Legal Ethics, Legal Profession, Legal Writing, Moot Court, Rhetoric, State Appeals Courts, Tribal Law and Appeals, United States Supreme Court | Permalink | Comments (0)
Sunday, September 5, 2021
In the words of the late Justice Antonin Scalia, “[l[ike some ghoul in a late-night horror movie that repeatedly sits up in its grave and shuffles abroad, after being repeatedly killed and buried,” Roe v. Wade (and Planned Parenthood of Southeastern Pennsylvania v. Casey) stalks the Fourteenth Amendment’s jurisprudence yet again, reflecting the constitutional mess that these decisions created.
Specifically, in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, the Court will decide whether a Mississippi law, which bans abortions after the fifteenth week of pregnancy, violates the right, created in Roe and reaffirmed in Planned Parenthood, to obtain abortions before viability (which occurs at approximately twenty-four weeks of pregnancy). By way of background, in Roe, the Court interpreted the Fourteenth Amendment’s Due Process Clause to support a fundamental right to terminate a pregnancy in certain circumstances. In so holding, the Court adopted a trimester framework that balanced a woman’s right to terminate a pregnancy with a state’s right to regulate the abortion procedure. In the first trimester, women had an unfettered right to terminate a pregnancy. In the second trimester, states could regulate abortion to protect a women’s health. After the second trimester – when the fetus became viable – states could prohibit abortions except when necessary to protect the life or health of the mother.
Scholars and judges of all political persuasions criticized the Court’s decision in Roe, arguing that the right to abortion could not be found anywhere in the Constitution’s text and certainly was not inferable from the Fourteenth Amendment’s Due Process Clause, which protects procedural, not substantive rights. These scholars were correct: the abortion right in Roe was predicated in substantial part on and an outgrowth of the Court’s decision in Griswold v. Connecticut, where the Court held that the Constitution contains invisible “penumbras,” that are “formed by emanations from those guarantees [in the text] that give them life and substance.” In other words, the Court could create whatever rights it wanted, regardless of whether the text supported creating those rights.
Two decades later, in Planned Parenthood, the Court made the problem worse. In a 5-4 decision, the Court upheld the central holding in Roe (the right to obtain abortions before viability) but rejected Roe’s trimester framework. In its place, the Court adopted the “undue burden,” test, which stated that before viability, states may not enact laws that impose a substantial burden on a woman’s right to access abortion services. It is obvious why Planned Parenthood introduced instability and unpredictability into abortion jurisprudence. After all, what constitutes an “undue burden” on the right to obtain a pre-viability abortion? No one knew the answer. Perhaps it was located in Griswold’s penumbras, which only the Court could access and define.
Not surprisingly, in response to what many rightfully perceived as judicial overreach in Roe and constitutional ambiguity in Planned Parenthood, some states embarked on a decades-long and seemingly never-ending mission to eviscerate, if not effectively overturn, Roe through legislation that imposes various restrictions upon when and under what circumstances women can obtain abortions. For example, in Planned Parenthood, a Pennsylvania law required minors to obtain parental consent, and adult women to inform their spouses, before obtaining an abortion. The Court upheld the former provision and invalidated the latter. In Whole Women’s Health v. Hellerstadt and June Medical Services v. Russo, Texas and Louisiana, respectively, enacted laws requiring physicians to obtain hospital admitting privileges before providing abortion services. In two 5-4 decisions, the Court invalidated both laws. These cases are just a sample of the many instances in which states attempted to limit, directly or indirectly, access to abortion.
And in every case, the Court declined the opportunity to clarify definitively the nature and scope of the abortion right, such as by unequivocally upholding or overruling Roe, or adopting categorical rules concerning when and under what circumstances women could access abortions. Instead, the Court applied the malleable “undue burden” test, which resulted in a case-by-case jurisprudence that led to uncertainty and often kept the abortion right hanging by a thread, dependent more on the current justices’ ideological predilections than on principled constitutional law. Simply put, the Court’s approach ensured that the abortion right would remain in constitutional purgatory, mired in uncertainty, and continuously under attack by states that viewed abortion as constitutionally unsupportable and morally indefensible.
Unfortunately, the saga continues.
In the latest installment of How to Overturn Roe While Acting Like You Are Not, the State of Mississippi has enacted a law that bans abortions after fifteen weeks – and thus bans a portion of previability abortions. Only this time, the plot doesn’t just involve Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, where the Court will decide whether Mississippi's law passes constitutional muster. Rather, Texas has decided to make yet another appearance into the abortion sage by passing an unusually bizarre law that: (1) bans all abortions after six weeks; and (2) gives citizens, not the state, enforcement power by authorizing private causes of action against those who provide or assist in providing abortion services after six weeks. This law is certainly unconstitutional; many women do not even know that they are pregnant at six weeks, thus rendering the six-week limit a substantial and unconstitutional burden on abortion access. Not surprisingly, in Whole Women’s Health v. Jackson, the Petitioner sought an order from the Court preliminarily enjoining the law's enforcement.
You’d think that, based on Roe and Planned Parenthood, the Court would have granted the injunction.
Last week, in a 5-4 decision, the Court declined to issue an injunction.  To be fair, the majority did not rule on the merits of Texas’s law. Rather, the Court held that the Petitioner did not meet the standard for obtaining a preliminary injunction because, among other things, there was no evidence that any private citizen intended to enforce the law, or that the Court had the authority to issue an injunction against state judges who were asked to decide the law's constitutionality. The Court was careful to emphasize, however, that its decision was not “based on any conclusion about the constitutionality of Texas’s law.”
The majority doesn’t live in a fantasy world. It knew that its decision would allow a law to go into effect that unquestionably violated Roe and Planned Parenthood, and effectively outlawed abortion for most women in Texas. As Justice Sotomayor explained in her dissent:
The Court’s order is stunning. Presented with an application to enjoin a flagrantly unconstitutional law engineered to prohibit women from exercising their constitutional rights and evade judicial scrutiny, a majority of Justices have opted to bury their heads in the sand. Last night, the Court silently acquiesced in a State’s enactment of a law that flouts nearly 50 years of federal precedents.
Furthermore, as Justice Breyer noted in his dissent, the Court could have enjoined the law on the ground that a state “cannot delegate . . . a veto power [over the right to obtain an abortion] which the state itself is absolutely and totally prohibited from exercising during the first trimester of pregnancy.” Ultimately, the Court’s refusal to issue the injunction in Whole Women’s Health v. Jackson suggests that five justices may be prepared to overturn Roe or, at the very least, severely restrict abortion rights.
For that and other reasons, Dobbs v. Jackson Women's Health Organization is perhaps the most important abortion case in years. Whatever the justices decide, they should ensure that the opinion ends the constitutional mess that is abortion jurisprudence, in which the abortion right has been plagued by uncertainty and the Court’s decisions characterized by anything by clarity. The Court can do so by issuing a clear and categorical decision about whether abortion is a fundamental right and, if the answer is yes, clarifies definitively the scope of this right. The Court has several options, including:
- Overturn Roe and return the abortion issue to the states.
- Overturn Planned Parenthood but not Roe and return to the trimester framework.
- Overturn Planned Parenthood and Roe, but hold that the Equal Protection Clause supports the right to abortion.
- Uphold Planned Parenthood and Roe based on stare decisis.
The absolute worst result would be if the Court issued yet another fractured, 5-4 decision that invalidated or upheld the Mississippi law, but otherwise provided no clarity regarding the scope of the abortion right and the states’ power to restrict its exercise. The worst result would be if Chief Justice Roberts engaged in legal shenanigans yet again in a misguided to preserve the Court’s institutional legitimacy. The worst result would be if the Court issued a plurality opinion with multiple concurrences and dissents that made readers think that the Court just can’t – and perhaps never will – reach any agreement on how to address the constitutional mess that Roe created, and that Planned Parenthood exacerbated. Whatever happens, the abortion saga should be a lesson in what happens when courts ignore the Constitution and create rights out of thin air.
The time has come to bring the abortion soap opera to a conclusion and end the decades-old constitutional charade that Griswold, Roe, and Planned Parenthood created. In other words, either kill the monster or allow it to forever terrorize constitutional law and lurk in the hidden penumbras, waiting to trap and possess unsuspecting justices in those penumbras.
The Court’s abortion jurisprudence, however, suggests that the ending in the latest installment of How to Overturn Roe While Acting Like You Are Not will leave the audience wanting, just as in those 80s’ horror movies that ended with the killer seemingly dead, only to open an eye or move a body part before the screen fades out, signaling to the audience that yet another sequel is on the horizon.
 Lamb’s Chapel v. Center Moriches Union Free School District, 508 U.S. 384 (1993) (Scalia, J., concurring)
 No. 19-392, available at: Dobbs v. Jackson Women's Health Organization - SCOTUSblog.
 410 U.S. 113 (1973).
 See id.
 See id.
 See id.
 See, e.g., Meredith Heagney, Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg Offers Critique of Roe v. Wade During Law School Visit (May 15, 2013), available at: Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg Offers Critique of Roe v. Wade During Law School Visit | University of Chicago Law School (uchicago.edu).
 381 U.S. 479 (1965) (brackets added).
 505 U.S. 833 (1992).
 See id.
 579 U.S. 582 (2016); 591 U.S. , 2020 WL 3492640.
 See id.
 See, e.g., Planned Parenthood of Central Missouri v. Danforth, 428 U.S. 52 (1976).
 See Whole Women’s Health v. Jackson, 594 U.S. (2021), available at: 21A24 Whole Woman's Health v. Jackson (09/01/2021) (supremecourt.gov).
 See id.
 See id.
 See id.
 Id. (Sotomayor, J., dissenting).
 Id. (quoting Planned Parenthood of Central Mo. v. Danforth, 428 U. S. 52, 69 (1976)) (brackets in original).
Sunday, August 29, 2021
Each week, the Appellate Advocacy Blog Weekly Roundup presents a few tidbits of news and Twitter posts from the past week concerning appellate advocacy. As always, if you see something during the week that you think we should be sure to include, feel free to send a quick note to either (1) Dan Real at DReal@Creighton.edu or on Twitter @Daniel_L_Real or (2) Catharine Du Bois at DuBoisLegalWriting@gmail.com or on Twitter @CLDLegalWriting.
US Supreme Court Opinions and News
The Supreme Court struck a CDC moratorium on evictions during the pandemic. An earlier nationwide moratorium lapsed on July 31, prompting the CDC to impose its own moratorium. This CDC moratorium temporarily halted evictions in counties with “substantial and high levels” of virus transmissions. The Court’s decision allows evictions to resume. The decision held that the CDC lacks the authority to act without explicit congressional authorization and ruled that, “[i]f a federally imposed eviction moratorium is to continue, Congress must specifically authorize it.” See the per curium order and reports from the Associate Press, NPR, and The Washington Post.
The Supreme Court revived the previous administration’s “remain in Mexico” asylum policy, refusing to stay a ruling that banned the Biden administration’s attempt end the policy. The policy requires asylum seekers to remain in Mexico while they await hearings in the United States. The Court stated that the decision to end the policy appeared to be arbitrary and capricious. The decision leaves in place the lower court’s ban, which will be heard by an appeals court. See the order and reports from Reuters, The New York Times, APNews, and NPR.
Appellate Court Opinions and News
In a rehearing on the issue, the Second Circuit let stand a lower court’s refusal to grant an injunction against anti-abortion protestors, finding that the district court did not abuse its discretion. New York State sued 13 protestors arguing that protesters crowded women, made death threats against escorts, and blocked the path with posters, which violated the Freedom of Access to Clinic Entrances Act, New York State Clinic Access Act, and New York City's Access to Reproductive Health Care Facilities Act. The district decision rejected the injunction motion, finding that the state had not shown that it would face irreparable harm. The panel on rehearing did not rule on the merits because it found that the lower court did not abuse its "considerable discretion" in denying the injunction. See the order and reports from Reuters and Courthouse News.
The Ninth Circuit affirmed a lower court’s ruling that denied a motion for preliminary injunction by a landlord group attempting to stop Los Angeles from enforcing an eviction moratorium. The court determined that the group could not show a likelihood of success on the merits, finding that, “even if the eviction moratorium was a substantial impairment of contractual relations,” the city “fairly tied the moratorium to its stated goal of preventing displacement from homes” during a pandemic. See order and reports from Bloomberg and The California Globe.
The Fourth Circuit affirmed the death sentence for the gunman who killed nine members of a Black Charleston church in a racially motivated shooting. The court stated that “[n]o cold record or careful parsing . . . can capture the full horror of what [the shooter] did” and that “[h]is crimes qualify him for the harshest penalty that a just society can impose.” The court rejected the argument that the gunman should have been ruled incompetent. The gunman is the first person in the US to be sentenced to death for a federal hate crime. See the ruling and reports from NPR, The Washington Post, and USA Today.
Effective Appellate Advocacy
On September 2, the Ninth Circuit and the Federal Bar Association are sponsoring a free program featuring Judge Margaret McKeown. Judge McKeown will discuss effective brief writing and oral argument. Find information here.
In my last post, I reviewed arguments employed in three different Supreme Court briefs seeking reconsideration of three separate precedents. The arguments attempted there in favor of overruling precedent as unworkable are equally applicable to adverse in-circuit precedents.
In the federal circuits, however, the process usually requires two-steps: first, an argument before the usual three-judge panel; and, second, upon the granting of a petition, argument en banc. The double argument occurs because one panel cannot overrule a prior panel’s precedential holding. In the Eleventh Circuit, this practice is known as the “prior panel precedent rule.” Some state courts of appeal follow the same rule. Yet, other states permit one panel to overrule an earlier one on the same issue, but advise that it is an authority that should be exercised reticently.
The Fifth Circuit has dubbed the practice the “rule of orderliness,” which holds that “one panel of our court may not overturn another panel’s decision, absent an intervening change in the law, such as by a statutory amendment, or the Supreme Court, or our en banc court.” It also means that, “to the extent that a more recent case contradicts an older case, the newer language has no effect.”
If an advocate is unable to distinguish the prior precedential holding, part of the argument before the initial panel must suggest the problematic decision is wrong and warrants rehearing en banc for purposes of reconsideration. A panel’s opinion, or even a judge’s dissent, that suggests the precedent was wrongly decided, even when those judges are obliged to follow it, provides a substantial boost to a petition for rehearing en banc.
Still, not every unfavorable in-circuit decision qualifies as controlling precedent. Even where a case is not otherwise distinguishable, it may be possible to characterize the prior decision’s problematic passage as obiter dicta. In those circumstances, the contrarian language “could have been deleted without seriously impairing the analytical foundations of the holding and being peripheral, may not have received the full and careful consideration of the court that uttered it.” For example, if no party briefed and argued the point, the panel was deprived of arguments that might have caused it to avoid the issue or decide it differently. For that reason, there were no analytical foundations, and the dicta is not binding.
State courts, too, hold that dicta is not binding. In California, for example, “dictum is a general argument or observation unnecessary to the decision which has no force as precedent.” Instead, only the ratio decidendi, the “principle or rule which constitutes the ground of the decision,” serves as stare decisis. Under that approach, a “decision is not authority for what is said in the opinion but only for the points actually involved and actually decided.”
Recently, that same issue of what constituted stare decisis came up in the U.S. Supreme Court. In Ramos v. Louisiana, the Court was asked to overrule cases that held the Sixth Amendment right to jury trial did not require a unanimous verdict to convict a defendant of a serious offense. Instead of overruling the earlier precedents, it abrogated them. The majority opinion by Justice Gorsuch denied that the earlier decisions constituted precedent because the result was the product of a fragmented Court. That characterization generated some controversy. Justice Kavanaugh, another member of the majority, vocally treated the prior decision as precedent, but precedent that deserved to be overruled. The dissenters insisted that adherence to stare decisis was necessary, even if they might have reached a different decision if the issue was first being presented.
The bottom line is that there are a variety of tools available to an advocate who finds an adverse precedent in the way of a favorable result. Understanding the concerns that a court has expressed and the rules it follows can provide a blueprint for building that case. And, sometimes, when you notice disagreement within the U.S. Supreme Court about what constitutes binding precedent, a door may open to some arguments a lower appellate court has not previously considered.
 See, e.g., United States v. Salazar, 987 F.3d 1248, 1254 (10th Cir. 2021).
 Smith v. GTE Corp., 236 F.3d 1292, 1300 n.8 (11th Cir. 2001).
 See, e.g., Nat'l Med. Imaging, LLC v. Lyon Fin. Servs., Inc., No. 3D20-730, 2020 WL 5228979, at *1 n.2 (Fla. 3d D.C.A. Sept. 2, 2020).
 See, e.g., Roberts v. Roberts, 2014 UT App 211, ¶ 44, 335 P.3d 378, 391.
 Jacobs v. Nat'l Drug Intelligence Ctr., 548 F.3d 375, 378 (5th Cir. 2008).
 Arnold v. U.S. Dep’t of Interior, 213 F.3d 193, 196 n.4 (5th Cir. 2000).
 Int’l Truck & Engine Corp. v. Bray, 372 F.3d 717, 721 (5th Cir. 2004) (internal quotation marks and citation omitted).
 Bruce v. Estelle, 536 F.2d 1051, 1059 n.5 (5th Cir. 1976), cert. denied, 429 U.S. 1053 (1977).
 United Steel Workers of America v. Bd. of Ed., 162 Cal.App.3d 823, 834 (1984).
 Bunch v. Coachella Valley Water Dist., 214 Cal.App.3d 203, 212 (1989).
 Childers v. Childers, 74 Cal.App.2d 56, 61 (1946) (emphasis in original).
 140 S. Ct. 1390 (2020).
Saturday, August 21, 2021
In a climate of extreme partisanship and polarization, platforms such as Facebook and Twitter – with the express authorization of Congress under Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act – exercise unprecedented power to censor the content and viewpoints that individuals express on these platforms, particularly concerning political speech. And social media platforms have done precisely that, censoring views that they subjectively deem objectionable or inappropriate – with no repercussions whatsoever. In so doing, social media platforms thwart the robust exchange of opinions and thus undermine the marketplace of ideas that is so essential to a properly functioning democracy and a diverse society.
If the federal government engaged in such conduct, it would unquestionably violate the First Amendment. Social media platforms, however, are private companies, not government (state) actors, thus rendering the First Amendment inapplicable and enabling social media to engage in content and viewpoint-based discrimination with impunity.
That has to change – now.
For the reasons set forth below, the United States Supreme Court should hold that social media platforms such as Facebook and Twitter are state actors and, as such, prohibited from engaging in conduct that would violate individuals’ free speech rights.
1. Through Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act, Congress gave (and delegated to) social media the power to engage in content-based discrimination.
A private company can be deemed a state actor when there is a close relationship between the private party's actions and the government's objectives, or when the private party performs a traditional government function. In Skinner v. Railway Labor Executives’ Association, for example, Congress empowered private companies to conduct drug tests of their employees. The Labor Association objected, arguing that the drug tests violated the Fourth Amendment's protection against unreasonable searches and seizures. The Supreme Court held that, although the railroad was a private company, the tests, which the government explicitly authorized, rendered the railroad a state actor for this purpose. Additionally, in Marsh v. Alabama, the Court held that when a private company exercises powers that are traditionally reserved to the states, it is engaging in a public function and thus must respect constitutional safeguards.
Based on Skinner, social media can arguably be deemed a state actor. Through Section 230, Congress explicitly authorized social media platforms to do precisely what the First Amendment prohibits: censor information based on content or viewpoint. As one commentator explains:
Section 230 … grants a … “good Samaritan” immunity to online platforms as well. In this second immunity, Section 230 authorizes internet platforms to block content deemed “lewd, lascivious, filthy, excessively violent, harassing or otherwise objectionable, whether or not such material is constitutionally protected.” Section 230 explicitly exempts websites from most civil and state criminal liability for any action they take in a “good faith effort” to exclude such “offensive” material.
As Professor Dawn Nunziato states, “Congress encouraged private Internet actors to do what it could not do itself—restrict harmful, offensive, and otherwise undesirable speech, the expression of which would nonetheless be protected by the First Amendment.”
Simply put, Section 230 “effectively immunizes and induces private conduct that would be unconstitutional if governmental actors did it themselves.” And that is the problem. Congress should not be permitted to evade First Amendment protections simply by giving social media platforms – the modern-day marketplace of ideas – the power to do that which it could never do.
2. Social media is the new public forum and the modern-day marketplace of ideas.
Most citizens do not express their political views on Main Street, in public parks, or in the public square. Rather, they express their views online, such as on their Facebook and Twitter pages. Indeed, the views that millions of social media users express often relate directly to political and public policy issues, such as judicial nominees, abortion, climate change, campaign finance reform, and infrastructure. To be sure, a person need spend only a few minutes on Facebook or Twitter – or read Alexandria Ocasio Cortez’s Twitter feed (among others in both parties) – to realize that these platforms are the primary vehicle by which users express a diverse array of political views and engage in often heated debates on public policy issues.
Put simply, the marketplace of ideas – the forum in which diverse ideas on matters of public concern, however unpopular or distasteful, are welcome – is now located on social media platforms.
By censoring information that it subjectively and arbitrarily deems “objectionable,” social media is compromising the marketplace of ideas by doing precisely what the First Amendment prohibits – engaging in content and viewpoint discrimination. If legislators are to remain committed to respecting all points of view, rejecting discrimination and arbitrariness, and recognizing that unpopular ideas are essential to public discourse, they should conclude that social media platforms, particularly due to the power Section 230 grants, are state actors.
3. A robust public discourse – including welcoming offensive and unpopular ideas – is essential to democracy, liberty, and diversity.
Politics and public discourse have become so divisive and polarized that diverse and unpopular viewpoints – regardless of political affiliation – are often met with scorn and ridicule. By censoring diverse views that challenge widely accepted and prevailing views, social media exacerbates this problem.
It encourages groupthink.
It discourages critical analysis of public policy issues.
Don’t be fooled by the claim that social media platforms are simply preventing the dissemination of “misinformation.” That determination is subjective and arbitrary. It is also anathema to the principle that liberty, democracy, and diversity depend on tolerating speech that we hate and views that we abhor. Ultimately, welcoming all viewpoints and eschewing discrimination vindicates every individual’s interest in having a voice in democracy. As Erwin Chemerinsky stated:
Freedom of speech is defended both instrumentally—it helps people make better decisions—and intrinsically—individuals benefit from being able to express their views. The consensus is that the activity of expression is vital and must be protected. Any infringement of freedom of speech, be it by public or private entities, sacrifices these values. In other words, the consensus is not just that the government should not punish expression; rather, it is that speech is valuable and, therefore, any unjustified violation is impermissible. If employers can fire employees and landlords can evict tenants because of their speech, then speech will be chilled and expression lost. Instrumentally, the “marketplace of ideas” is constricted while, intrinsically, individuals are denied the ability to express themselves. Therefore, courts should uphold the social consensus by stopping all impermissible infringements of speech, not just those resulting from state action.
Upholding the social consensus – and the First Amendment’s original purpose – supports a finding that social media platforms, due both to Section 230 and their status as the new public forum, are state actors.
The solution to this problem is simple: social media should retain immunity for the comments posted by its users. However, social media should only be prohibited from censoring speech that the Court has held receives no First Amendment protection. This includes, for example, obscenity and speech that incites violence.
Otherwise, the marketplace of ideas should remain a place where diverse and unpopular ideas are welcomed.
 489 U.S. 602 (1990)
 See id.
 See id.
 See id.
 Jed Rubenfeld, Are Facebook and Google State Actors? (Nov. 4, 2019), available at: Are Facebook and Google State Actors? - Lawfare (lawfareblog.com) (emphasis in original).
 David L. Hudson, Jr., In the Age of Social Media, Expand the Reach of the First Amendment, available at: In the Age of Social Media, Expand the Reach of the First Amendment (americanbar.org) (quoting Erwin Chemerinsky) (emphasis added).
Sunday, August 15, 2021
In rapid succession, the Supreme Court recently received three briefs asking it to overturn different precedents. The one that got widespread national attention was Mississippi’s brief in the high-profile case being heard next term, Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Org., which asks the Court to overturn Roe v. Wade. Then, on the heels of that brief, a petition for certiorari asked the Court to overrule Bivens v. Six Unknown Named Agents of Federal Bureau of Narcotics. Soon afterwards, Oklahoma filed a petition seeking reconsideration of the Court’s one-year-old, 5-4 ruling in McGirt v. Oklahoma.
The unusual spate of requested nullifications of existing precedent plainly reflects a calculation that the Supreme Court’s new majority is less tied to stare decisis than their predecessors. Still, each brief makes an effort to provide grounds why stare decisis should not insulate the targeted decisions from reassessment. A review of the arguments against simply following precedent provides lessons for appellate counsel confronting an unavoidable but adverse controlling decision.
To be sure, the doctrine of stare decisis remains a “foundation stone of the rule of law” and the “preferred course because it promotes the evenhanded, predictable, and consistent development of legal principles, fosters reliance on judicial decisions, and contributes to the actual and perceived integrity of the judicial process.” The Court has deemed that following precedent “is usually the wise policy, because in most matters it is more important that the applicable rule of law be settled than it be settled right.” Still, stare decisis is not an “inexorable command” or “‘mechanical formula.’” In constitutional cases, stare decisis has less gravitational pull because “correction through legislative action is practically impossible.”
Dobbs presents the politically voluble issue of abortion, which has percolated for years, dominated national politics at times, and influenced Supreme Court appointments and confirmations. The potential impact of the issue in the political arena is inseparable from the legal arguments made, simply because the conversations in both playing fields have merged. That happenstance probably allows counsel to undertake a more opinionated and overtly political argument than might be prudent in other cases, particularly when some of the justices have expressed similarly strong opinions on the relevant jurisprudence.
In that vein, Mississippi’s brief asserts that both Roe and the subsequent decision in Planned Parenthood of S.E. Pa. v. Casey, “are egregiously wrong” and lack any “basis in text, structure, history, or tradition, leading to a hopelessly unworkable” legal framework. The brief’s unworkability argument is not a traditional one, though. In most instances, unworkability focuses on why an adopted test or stance fails to resolve recurring problems or issues. It asserts that the lower courts do not apply it consistently so that application of the precedent produces inconsistent results.
Mississippi’s brief frames its unworkability argument in terms of the frustration that States experience when they seek to end or heavily regulate abortion, blaming the application of heightened scrutiny when, it claims, rational-basis analysis should apply. The argument reminds a reader of the “heckler’s veto” in First Amendment law, because it relies on the sustained objections of opponents as a basis for claiming that the Court should recede from precedent. In this instance, it asserts that Roe and Casey have not contributed to a settled state of the law because they tend to block laws that Mississippi favors. In this brief, unworkability appears only as an obligatory nod. Mississippi’s argument really depends on justices’ agreeing that abortion should not receive constitutional protection so that laws restricting it are reviewed by the most deferential form of scrutiny.
Egbert v. Boule seeks the abandonment of an equally longstanding precedent, Bivens, but one that has had a lower public profile. Still, it boasts a vocal set of opponents in government and academia. Bivens and its progeny implied a direct cause of action under the Constitution for federal officer violations of the Fourth and Eighth Amendments, as well as due process. Yet, more recently, the Court has taken a narrowing view of Bivens and even suggested that the current Court would not have reached the same decision as the Bivens Court about implying a cause of action.
The petition’s unworkability argument emphasizes the Ninth Circuit’s more expansive view of Bivens in the case submitted for review to show that Bivens is irreconcilable with more recent precedent and therefore provides an uncertain basis for implying a constitutional cause of action that the lower courts cannot uniformly apply. Coming in the context of a lawsuit against a Border Patrol agent stationed near the Canadian border for First and Fourth Amendment violations, the petition claims “that judicially crafted Bivens actions could skew agents’ decision-making about whether and how to investigate suspicious activities in carrying out their important national-security mission.” Playing to the jurisprudential predilections of a majority of the Court, the petition asks that it “bring this important area into line with the Court’s modern jurisprudence respecting the separation of powers and recognizing Congress’ primacy in creating causes of action.”
Oklahoma’s petition in Oklahoma v. Bosse attempts a rare, though not unheard of feat: the overruling of a fresh precedent. Only last year, in McGirt, the Supreme Court held a large swath of Oklahoma remained part of the Muscogee (Creek) Reservation and subject to federal, not state, criminal law jurisdiction under an 1885 statute. What makes the Bosse petition credible was the immediate impact that McGirt had on future criminal prosecutions in Oklahoma, even if the effect on past prosecutions was expected.
The Bosse petition asserts that McGirt was wrong and has already had disastrous consequences, sending thousands of crime victims on a mercurial adventure to “seek justice from federal and tribal prosecutors whose offices are not equipped to handle those demands.” At the same time, it tells the justices that public safety is endangered as “crimes are going uninvestigated and unprosecuted,” confirming the worst fears of the McGirt dissenters.
The overruling of a recent Supreme Court decision, as Oklahoma seeks in Bosse, is not unprecedented. One prominent example occurred in the Flag Salute Cases. In 1940, the Supreme Court decided Minersville Sch. Dist. v. Gobitis, holding that a school district did not violate the rights of several schoolchildren who were expelled because they had religious objections to participating in the school’s morning flag-salute ceremony. Those objections led to accusations that Jehovah’s Witnesses, the religion of the expelled schoolchildren, were unpatriotic, releasing a wave of terrorism against its followers. The intolerance generated by the decision caused three members of the Gobitis majority to re-think their position. When joined by new appointee, the formerly 8-1 decision turned around to uphold a right to object to pledging allegiance as a right of conscience in West Virginia Bd. of Ed. v. Barnette. Remarkably, the new decision also ended the terroristic attacks on the Witnesses. Still, Bosse may have a higher climb than Barnette had to swing a member of the majority to the other side.
Each of these briefs demonstrate three things when asking a Court to overrule prior precedent. First, know your audience. If a court has expressed misgivings about a precedent, that become fodder for your request to abandon stare decisis. Second, explain why the precedent fails to achieve the stability that stare decisis is supposed to bring about. Third, make the consequences of staying with precedent seem as dire and bleak as possible. There is no guarantee that checking these boxes will bring about your desired result, but their absence almost guarantees failure. Advocates, no doubt, will watch developments in these cases closely to see if they succeed.
 No. 19-1392, Br. for Petitioners (S.Ct. Jul. 22, 2021).
 410 U.S. 113 (1973).
 403 U.S. 388 (1971).
 140 S. Ct. 2452 (2020).
 Payne v. Tennessee, 501 U.S. 808, 827 (1991).
 Id. (quoting Burnet v. Coronado Oil & Gas Co., 285 U.S. 393, 406 (1932) (Brandeis, J., dissenting)).
 Id. at 828 (quoting Helvering v. Hallock, 309 U.S. 106, 119 (1940)).
 Id. (quoting Burnet, 285 U.S. at 407 (Brandeis, J., dissenting)).
 505 U.S. 833 (1992).
 21-147, Pet. for Certiorari (S.Ct. Jul. 30, 2021).
 Ziglar v. Abbasi, 137 S. Ct. 1843, 1856 (2017).
 No. 21-186, Pet. for Certiorari (S.Ct. Aug. 6, 2021).
 319 US 624 (1943).
Saturday, August 14, 2021
Every few years, I ask my first-year writing students to analyze a problem on defaults, motions to cure, and the like. When I teach upper-division students, I always include some exercise on malpractice and default judgments. On August 9, the Fifth Circuit gave us a new spin on checking dockets and calendars, as well as our email spam folders, in Rollins v. Home Depot USA, Inc., __ F.4th __ , 2021 WL 3486465 (5th Cir. 2021). See also Debra Cassens Weiss, 5th Circuit warns of “cautionary tale for every attorney” as it refuses to revive lawsuit, ABA Journal (Aug. 11, 2021). The concise opinion also gives us a new example of the persuasion in writing straightforward facts, using clear topic sentences, and following fairly strict CRAC-style organization.
Judge James C. Ho started the opinion with a great “hook,” explaining: “This is a cautionary tale for every attorney who litigates in the era of e-filing." Judge Ho followed with a concise, easy-to-read fact summary, in just a few sentences:
Kevin Rollins brought suit against his employer for personal injury. The employer filed a motion for summary judgment on the eve of the parties’ agreed deadline for dispositive motions. But Rollins’s counsel never saw the electronic notification of that motion. That’s because, by all accounts, his computer’s email system placed that notification in a folder that he does not regularly monitor. Nor did he check the docket after the deadline for dispositive motions had elapsed.
As a result, Rollins did not file an opposition to the summary judgment motion. So the district court subsequently entered judgment against Rollins.
Rollins, __ F.4th at __, 2021 WL 3486465 at *1.
According to the opinion, Rollins was injured while moving a bathtub for his employer, Home Depot. Id. Rollins then sued Home Depot in state court. In one of the less-helpful parts of the opinion, the court uses passive voice—"The case was subsequently removed to federal court”—so we do not know which party asked for removal, but we can presume it was Home Depot.
In the federal district court, counsel for Rollins, Aaron Allison, agreed to receive filings “through the court’s electronic-filing system via the email address he provided, as attorneys typically do in federal courts across the country.” Id. The parties later agreed to a scheduling order requiring that all dispositive motions be filed by May 11, 2020 and providing a 14-day period for responses to any motions.
On May 7, Home Depot filed its motion for summary judgment. Allison explained the e-notification for the summary judgment motion filing “’was inadvertently filtered into a part of Rollins’ counsel’s firm email system listed as “other,” instead of the main email box where all prior filings in the case were received.’” Id. As a result, Allison did not see the electronic notification of Home Depot’s motion, and Home Depot did not mention the motion when Allison “contacted Home Depot’s counsel a few days later to discuss the possibility of a settlement.” Id.
Allison told the ABA Journal his firm had never had a problem with e-filing or with the email system. He noted “opposing counsel never separately notified Allison of the filing and continued settlement talks with the apparent knowledge that Allison wasn’t aware of the pending motion.” See Weiss, 5th Circuit warns of “cautionary tale for every attorney.” In fact, after Allison learned of the granted summary judgment motion, “his firm checked and scanned all emails and found the motion in an ‘obscure part’ of the email system.” Id. The firm tried to open the email, but it had been corrupted. Id.
Nonetheless, “without any response from Rollins, the district court reviewed the pleadings, granted Home Depot’s motion for summary judgment, and entered final judgment on May 27.” Rollins, __ F.4th at __, 2021 WL 3486465 at *1. On June 3, Allison again contacted Home Depot’s counsel to discuss settlement, but Home Depot’s counsel informed him the district court had already entered a final judgment. Id. Allison then filed a FRCP Rule 59(e) motion to alter or amend the court’s judgment against Rollins. The district court denied the motion, and Rollins appealed.
The Court of Appeals explained it would review “only” for an abuse of discretion, using one word to stress the deferential standard of review. Id. at *2. The court then set out the law in the nice, persuasive rule statements we all try to use, starting with phrases like, “But our court has explained” Rule 59(e) motions are for a “narrow purpose.” Judge Ho stated Rule 59(e) is “not for raising arguments” which “could, and should, have been made before the judgment issued” or where there is no intervening change of law. Id.
On the merits, the court began: “To be sure, we do not question the good faith of Rollins’s counsel. But it is not “manifest error to deny relief when failure to file was within [Rollins’s] counsel’s ‘reasonable control.’” Id. Although reasonable minds can disagree on the application of the rules here, the court then succinctly applied its stated rules to Rollins and found no abuse of discretion. The court reasoned “Rollins’s counsel was plainly in the best position to ensure that his own email was working properly—certainly more so than either the district court or Home Depot.” Interestingly, the court placed an affirmative burden of checking online dockets on counsel, even if counsel is not expecting any filings. According to the court, “Rollins’s counsel could have checked the docket after the agreed deadline for dispositive motions had already passed.” Id.
In his interview with the ABA Journal, Allison called the ruling a “‘lawyer beware’ decision.” He and his client are discussing a possible motion for reconsideration en banc, and if that is denied, a cert petition to the U.S. Supreme Court. See Weiss, 5th Circuit warns of “cautionary tale for every attorney.”
I plan to share this opinion with my students, not only for the substantive points on e-filings, but also for the opinion’s lessons in persuasion. And, we can all watch online dockets to see if Rollins decides to move forward.
Saturday, August 7, 2021
In law school or in law practice, many students will hear this statement: “if the law isn’t on your side, argue the facts; if the facts aren’t on your side, argue the law.”
Well, guess what?
Sometimes, neither the law nor the facts support your argument.
In your career, you will find yourself in the unenviable position of having to make a ‘bad’ argument before a court. To be sure, a ‘bad’ argument is not a frivolous argument. Rather, a ‘bad’ argument is one where the relevant precedent doesn’t support your position. It is one where the facts and equities are unfavorable to your client. In short, a ‘bad’ argument is one where your chances of winning are about as good as O.J. Simpson admitting that he killed Nicole Brown and Ronald Goldman.
So, what should you do to make a ‘bad’ argument better? Consider the following hypothetical:
You are representing a congressman – and former professor at a prestigious college – who is suing a newspaper for allegedly defamatory statements that the newspaper made during the congressman’s unsuccessful reelection campaign, where he lost by less than 500 votes. Specifically, four days before the election, the newspaper published an article titled “Congressman receives a grade of ‘F’ from former students.” In that article, the newspaper quoted several negative reviews from the congressman’s former students that were anonymously posted on www.criticizemyprofessor.com. The reviews included statements that the congressman was a “stupid and awful professor,” a “narcissistic jerk who based grades on whether he liked you,” “an insensitive elitist who routinely made statements in class that offended students and created an uncomfortable learning environment,” and “a man who has caused lasting trauma to his students.” When publishing this article, the newspaper contacted the college to inquire about the congressman’s performance, but the college declined to comment. Additionally, the newspaper failed to include numerous reviews from another website – www.praisemyprofesssor.com – where many former students anonymously and unanimously posted excellent reviews of the congressman.
After the election, the newspaper acknowledged that it “could have done better” by including the statements from www.praisemyprofesssor.com but stated that “we had no reason to believe that the statements posted on www.criticizemyprofessor.com were false” and posted them “with full confidence in their truth.” Indeed, there is no evidence to suggest that the comments made on either website are false.
As the attorney representing the congressman, you obviously have an uphill battle.
Not surprisingly, the trial court recently granted a motion to dismiss in the newspaper’s favor. The court held that under New York Times v. Sullivan, the congressman could only succeed on his defamation claim if he proved that the statements were false and made with actual malice, namely, with knowledge of their [the statements’] falsity or with reckless disregard for the truth or falsity of the statements. Based on the newspaper’s statements, its attempt to contact the congressman’s former employer regarding his performance, and the lack of evidence that the statements were false, the court held that this standard was not met.
The congressman decided to appeal and now you are preparing for oral argument. Given the facts, the actual malice standard, and the lack of evidence of falsity, you have a very ‘bad’ argument.
So, what can you do to make this ‘bad’ argument as persuasive as possible?
1. Create a nuanced argument that renders governing precedent less controlling
When you are presenting a bad argument, the worst approach is to be reactive. Don’t spend your time trying to explain away or distinguish controlling precedent, or trying to depict facts and evidence in an unjustifiably favorable light. Instead, admit that the law does not support your position. Acknowledge the unfavorable facts. After all, when you have to make a ‘bad’ argument, your credibility is the first and essential step to making a ‘bad’ argument persuasive. You don’t want the court to think that you are asking it to ignore precedent or accept implausible justifications to distinguish that precedent. You don’t want the court to think that you are minimizing or ignoring unfavorable facts.
Instead, develop a nuanced and original argument that renders precedent a little less controlling and the unfavorable facts a little less damaging. In so doing, you will enhance the likelihood of convincing the court that the rule or outcome for which you advocate is novel and neither inconsistent with nor contrary to existing law.
Consider the above example. With respect to the actual malice standard, how would you address the argument that the newspaper’s conduct doesn’t even remotely satisfy this standard?
Well, you could argue that the court should clarify its interpretation of “reckless disregard” for the truth or falsity of a statement. In so doing, you could argue that providing an incomplete, inaccurate, and thus distorted view of the facts to the public is a “reckless disregard” for the truth because it portrays an individual in a false and potentially defamatory light. By way of analogy, what the newspaper did is tantamount to a newspaper publishing an article stating that the congressman had previously been convicted of sexual assault while omitting that the conviction was overturned on appeal for lack of sufficient evidence. Furthermore, recklessness can be inferred because the newspaper could have easily discovered and published the statements on www.praisemyprofesssor.com; the newspaper’s choice not to portrayed the congressman in a false and defamatory light.
This is not to say, of course, that the above argument is persuasive and will lead to a successful result. It is to say, however, that it will likely make a ‘bad’ argument better and more palatable to the court.
Put simply, think outside of the box. Take a chance. Be creative. And in so doing, convince the court that the rule or outcome you seek is not a radical departure from existing law.
2. Ask questions that put your opponent on the defensive and expose weaknesses in your opponent’s argument
When you have to make a ‘bad’ argument, you should take an offensive, not defensive approach. Specifically, you should confront directly the weaknesses in your opponent’s argument. One way to do so is by posing simple questions that show how your opponent’s argument would lead to an unjust and unfair result, and constitute bad law and bad policy.
Below are a few examples relating to the above hypothetical:
So, it’s ok for a newspaper to selectively and with impunity publish facts about a public official that portray that official in a false and defamatory light?
So, it’s permissible for a public official’s reputation to be irreparably damaged because a newspaper concocted a false and misleading narrative by omitting student reviews that undermined that narrative – and suppressed the truth?
So, the court’s interpretation of ‘reckless’ means that it is perfectly fine for a newspaper to cherry-pick its sources to propagate a fake narrative that irreparably damages a public official and influences an election?
These questions aren’t perfect, but you get the point. By asking direct questions, you put your opponent on the defensive. You enable the court to view the issue in a different light. And you allow the court to answer the questions in a way that will lead to a favorable outcome.
3. Forget the straw man – attack and undermine your opponent’s best argument
Never, never, never avoid the elephant in the room. And never make a straw man argument.
Instead, attack your opponent’s best argument. Explain how the rule your opponent supports will lead to unfair and unjust consequences in this and future cases. For example, regarding the hypothetical above, explain why your opponent’s argument makes it nearly impossible for public officials to ever obtain remedies for defamatory statements, and why it makes it nearly always possible for newspapers to publish misleading information with impunity.
4. Use quantitative and qualitative data to maximize the persuasive value of your argument
Quantitative and qualitative data enhances the persuasive of any legal argument and can sometimes transform a ‘bad’ argument into a relatively persuasive argument. For example, regarding the above hypothetical, consider the following use of empirical data relating to the actual malice standard:
In the last ten years, relevant empirical data shows that the country’s ten most widely circulated newspapers published over 1,000 articles that contained false and misleading information about public officials. Despite over 100 lawsuits by public officials seeking damages for defamation, only one lawsuit led to a finding in the public official’s favor. This data reveals a disturbing fact: newspapers can publish false and misleading information with impunity because the actual malice standard – particularly the stringent interpretation of “reckless disregard” – serves as an impenetrable shield to any accountability whatsoever.
Although this argument obviously isn’t perfect, it does give the court something to think about, namely, that the actual malice standard over-protects newspapers and under-protects individuals who are damaged by the dissemination of incomplete and misleading information.
5. If the court isn’t likely to agree with anything you say, make sure that you get the court to agree with something you say
When presenting a ‘bad’ argument in a brief or at an oral argument, you will in many instances know with relative confidence whether the court is likely to respond with skepticism and even hostility to your position.
Consider the hypothetical above. An appellate court will almost certainly hold that the newspaper’s conduct does not even remotely support a defamation claim because there is no evidence that the statements were false or, even if they were false, that the newspaper’s conduct satisfies the actual malice standard. Indeed, you may have a nightmare on the eve of oral argument in which a judge on the appellate panel says something like this:
So, um, counselor, how can you honestly and with a straight face argue that the newspaper’s statements, which you don’t contend are false, can miraculously show a ‘reckless disregard for truth’ and satisfy the actual malice standard? What is wrong with you? How could you possibly present such a ridiculous argument to this court?
Uh oh. I wouldn’t want to be that attorney.
So, what should you do?
Well, you can decide to not show up for court, immediately quit the legal profession, and become a comedian. Or you can respond by getting the judge to agree with you on at least one proposition. For example, you could respond as follows:
I’m glad that you asked that question. To begin with, I think we can all agree that disseminating false, incomplete, and misleading information about any individual to the public can cause substantial and irreversible reputation harm. And we can probably also agree that a healthy democracy demands that newspapers have the right – indeed the obligation – to publish statements that criticize and reveal unfavorable facts about public figures. But I respectfully disagree with your contention that the statements aren’t false. When read in isolation, that may be true, but when read in context, the statements are decidedly untrue. Put simply, disseminating incomplete and thus misleading statements about an individual unquestionably portrays that individual in a false and defamatory light, thus making the message conveyed by the statements – that the congressman was a terrible professor – demonstrably false. Consider, for example, what a reasonable person would have thought of the congressman if the newspaper had published the statements on both www.criticizemyprofessor.com and www.praisemyprofesssor.com. The answer should be obvious: a reasonable person would view the congressman in a more favorable – and truthful – light. And that is the problem. Consequently, the dissemination of incomplete and misleading information is itself false and defamatory.
Now, this answer is undoubtedly not perfect and the flaws are obvious. It may not sway the judge and it almost certainly will not convince the court that the newspaper’s statements support a defamation claim. But remember that you are stuck with a ‘bad’ argument and trying to make it good enough to convince the court to reconsider the merits of your position. This response does raise an interesting point that may cause the court to pause for a moment and rethink its opinion concerning whether the statements could be construed as defamatory.
6. Argue with emotion and confidence
Perception matters. Confidence and passion matter. Especially when you are the underdog.
When presenting an oral argument, for example, you should use verbal and non-verbal techniques to show that you believe passionately and confidently in your argument, and in the outcome you seek. It doesn’t matter that you are presenting a ‘bad’ argument. What matters is that you advocate intelligently and forcefully as if your argument is and should be considered meritorious. When you exhibit confidence and passion (and make a well-structured argument), you enhance the likelihood that the court will think twice and question its preconceived notions or assumptions about your argument’s validity.
7. Appeal to the court’s sense of fairness and justice
Judges want to do the right thing. And judges will often engage in legal gymnastics to arrive at the outcome that they believe is just. If you doubt that, read Griswold v. Connecticut and Roe v. Wade, where the United States Supreme Court interpreted the Fourteenth Amendment’s Due Process Clause in a constitutionally indefensible manner to reach results that arguably reflected the majority’s policy predilections.
Regardless, because constitutional provisions, legal rules, and statutes are often broadly phrased, and precedent is often distinguishable, a court can in, many instances, reach a variety of justifiable outcomes. You can bet that the outcome a court reaches will reflect the court’s belief about what constitutes the fairest and most just result. After all, judges are not robots. They don’t just mechanically apply the law. They want to do the right thing -- or simply reach outcomes that reflect their policy preferences.
Ultimately, these strategies may not always be successful, but they will make your ‘bad’ argument better and increase the likelihood of succeeding on the merits.
Sunday, August 1, 2021
Judges have considerable freedom to write opinions as they like. They write for a broad audience. A judicial opinion speaks not just to the case’s lawyers and their clients, but to other judges, the legal academy, and perhaps, most importantly, the lay public. Even though most judicial opinions will not penetrate the public consciousness, the decision in a case should seek to demonstrate the elements we associate with thoughtful and considered judging. Still, in a world where social media champions the clever turn of phrase and even the burning insult, readers should not be surprised when judges adopt a vernacular not often associated with legal writing.
Some subject matters will not open the door to that type of accessible writing. Justice Elena Kagan once announced the opinion of the Court on a rather dry issue concerning the Anti-Injunction Act with: “If you understand anything I say here, you will likely be a lawyer, and you will have had your morning cup of coffee.” On the other hand, as an inveterate comic book superhero enthusiast, Kagan could not resist throwing in a gratuitous line in a patent infringement case involving “Spider-man”: “The parties set no end date for royalties, apparently contemplating that they would continue for as long as kids want to imitate Spider-Man (by doing whatever a spider can)” and citing an issue of the comic book as authority elsewhere in the opinion.
Indeed, her late colleague, Justice Antonin Scalia, is remembered as much for his pointed barbs and colorful jargon as he is for his dedication to a form of originalism in interpreting the Constitution. For example, lamenting the much-criticized Establishment Clause test from Lemon v. Kurtzman, Scalia memorably described its usage after a long period in hybernation as being “[l]ike some ghoul in a late-night horror movie that repeatedly sits up in its grave and shuffles abroad, after being repeatedly killed and buried, . . . frightening the little children and school attorneys of [defendant school district].”
Yet, the same reasons that cause some of us to remember that opinion prompted University of Wisconsin law professor Nina Varsava to write that judicial writing that turns opinions into a “compelling and memorable narratives” ill serves the “integrity of the judicial role and the legitimacy of the adjudicative process” in a forthcoming law review article. Professor Varsava recognizes that commentators love a lively and engaging style that seems to burnish the judicial reputations of those who write in a striking style all their own. Nonetheless, she advocates a more “even-keeled and restrained institutional style.” She rationalizes this plea by critiquing more stylistic writing as “ethically dubious” because it undermines a judge’s “most fundamental professional responsibilities.” To Professor Varsava, judicial opinions are not in the persuasion business, but instead serve a more pedagogical purpose.
Tellingly, Professor Varsava disagrees with Justice Kagan, who has said that “[t]here’s no rule against fun in [opinions].” The professor argues that “perhaps there should be such a rule.” Indeed, Professor Varsava imagines that judges could be constrained by enforceable regulations in the form of “internal court rules, rules of judicial conduct, or even statutory requirements.”
However interesting Professor Varsava’s take on opinion-writing is, and there is great reason to believe that enforcing it through rules or statutes is a dog that won’t hunt, to use a phrase the professor would surely reject, does her plea for more balanced and straightforward writing hold any value for the appellate advocate?
Unlike a judicial opinion, a brief targets a very specific and limited audience: the panel of judges who will decide the case. In many instances, the panel of judges who will hear the case is often unknown until after briefing is complete and suggests a certain amount of caution. Rhetorical flourishes and witty allusions may make for good reading, but can also detract from the persuasiveness of an otherwise well-founded argument. It may well put off a judge who equates the infusion of colloquial speech into the brief as disrespectful or an attempt to lend cover to a weak case.
To be sure, unlike Professor Varsava’s view of judicial opinions, briefs are written to persuade. To hammer home a point and perhaps make it more memorable, an occasional flashy phrasing or telling metaphor can serve a highly useful purpose. Still, there are limits that lawyers must recognize in an exercise of professional judgment.
Even so, judicial rhetoric can provide some license for flights of fancy in briefs. A Brandeis, writing a judicial opinion, might usefully explain why irrational fears cannot justify the suppression of speech by stating that “[m]en feared witches and burnt women,” but it is difficult to imagine how those words could have been made in a brief – except by quoting and citing the Brandeis opinion.
 Kimble v. Marvel Ent., LLC, 576 U.S. 446, 450 (2015) (emphasis added).
 Id. at 465 (“Cf. S. Lee and S. Ditko, Amazing Fantasy No. 15: “Spider–Man,” p. 13 (1962) (“[I]n this world, with great power there must also come—great responsibility”)).
 403 U.S. 602 (1971).
 Lamb's Chapel v. Ctr. Moriches Union Free Sch. Dist., 508 U.S. 384, 398 (1993) (Scalia, J., concurring).
 Nina Varsava, Professional Irresponsibility and Judicial Opinions, __ Hous. L. Rev. __ (forthcoming, 2021), available at https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3825848.
 Whitney v. California, 274 U.S. 357, 376 (1927) (Brandeis, J., concurring), overruled in part by Brandenburg v. Ohio, 395 U.S. 444 (1969).
Tuesday, July 27, 2021
Waiting for Warrants? Chief Justice Roberts’s conflicting opinions on the speed of warrant applications in Lange and McNeely.
In his recent concurring opinion in Lange v. California, Chief Justice Roberts argued in favor of a robust version of a “hot pursuit” exception to the warrant requirement. His argument was motivated, in part, by a concern that officers would waste too much time if forced to obtain a warrant in those exigent circumstances. Interestingly, though, Roberts’s claims about the time-consuming nature of the warrant application process were contradicted by another opinion Roberts himself authored just eight years earlier in Missouri v. McNeely. The conflicting opinions are not just confusing. They generate conflicting incentives for police departments to invest in flexible and efficient procedures to approve warrants, threatening to undermine advancements that help preserve Fourth Amendment rights.
In his Lange opinion, Roberts claimed that while a suspect flees into their home, “even the quickest warrant will be far too late.” Roberts cited to an amicus brief submitted by the Los Angeles County Police Chiefs’ Association, which argued that “[a] ‘fast’ warrant application may be processed in an hour and a half if factors are favorable (e.g., it occurs during normal court hours, has strong supporting facts, receives quick responses from the magistrate or judge, etc.).” The Association suggested that even more support is needed for an arrest warrant, such as evidence of a completed investigation, and that such warrants are rarely issued quickly absent compelling reasons. In his opinion, Roberts went on to claim that “[e]ven electronic warrants may involve time-consuming formalities,” such as a written application or an in-person appearance. Thus, Roberts argued that limitations on the hot pursuit branch of exigent circumstances would allow reckless suspects to freely elude warrantless capture.
But Roberts’s views on the laboriousness of the warrant application process directly contradicted his own concurring opinion in 2013’s Missouri v. McNeely just eight years earlier. In McNeely, Roberts claimed that “police can often request warrants rather quickly these days,” including electronic warrant applications that were available in at least 30 states at the time. Roberts specifically cited Utah’s e-warrant procedures, whereby “a police officer enters information into a system, the system notifies a prosecutor, and upon approval the officer forwards the information to a magistrate, who can electronically return a warrant to the officer. Judges have been known to issue warrants in as little as five minutes.” Similarly, officers in Kansas can email warrant requests to judges and receive responses in less than 15 minutes.
Which Chief Justice Roberts was right? In truth, both. Neither opinion presented incorrect or inaccurate information. Roberts correctly described the common plight of officers in Los Angeles, while also accurately presenting the capabilities of e-warrant systems in Utah and Kansas. But his selective approach to the data in each presented conflicting images of uniform procedures and time frames for obtaining warrant across the country. As these opinions demonstrate, such uniformity does not exist across jurisdictions.
Sweeping such disuniformity under the rug is particularly troubling. It disincentives jurisdictions from creating more efficient warrant application procedures. In McNeely, Roberts seemed to speak with approval about the evolution of e-warrants, suggesting that they may resolve many of the problems presented in emergency cases while still maintaining the neutral magisterial review of warrant applications that our Constitution typically requires. But in Lange, Roberts seemed to reward jurisdictions that have been slower to develop those kinds of warrant regimes. Roberts suggested that in such jurisdictions, perhaps obtaining a warrant to respond to a rapidly-evolving emergency is entirely unnecessary.
Why, then, would jurisdictions continue to develop those efficient methods for warrant applications? Roberts’s suggestion removes one of the primary incentives to duplicate procedures like those in Utah and Kansas. Only if court decisions look upon those programs with favor and reward those jurisdictions for their efforts will policymakers continue to build such programs. Roberts’s flip-flop is thus a dangerous one for the future of e-warrant procedures. His earlier views provide a much greater incentive for the continued development of rapid warrant procedures that can resolve many Fourth Amendment issues in modern policing.
 Lange v. California, 594 U.S. __ (2021) (slip op. at 9) (Roberts, C.J., concurring).
 Brief of Los Angeles County Police Chiefs’ Association As Amicus Curiae in Support of the Judgment Below 24-25, Lange v. California, 594 U.S. __ (2021), https://www.supremecourt.gov/DocketPDF/20/ 20-18/166350/20210114161910913_40463%20pdf%20Ito%20br.pdf.
 Id. at 25.
 Lange, slip op. at 9 (Roberts, C.J., concurring) (citing Colo Rev. State. § 16-3-303 (2020) and Mass. Gen. Laws, ch. 276, §2B (2019)).
 Missouri v. McNeely, 569 U.S. 141, 172 (2013) (Roberts, C.J., concurring).
 Id. at 172–73 (citations and quotations omitted).
 Id. at 173 (citations and quotations omitted).
Professionalism in Legal Writing – Dos & Don’ts, Part IV
The Supreme Court of Ohio, Commission on Professionalism, has published Professionalism Dos & Don’ts: Legal Writing. Each Do and Don’t has several subpoints. Over the next few months, I plan to take a more in-depth look at some of these Dos and Don’ts and offer examples and suggestions for how appellate advocates can implement the Dos and avoid the Don’ts. This is the fourth post in the series.
Do adopt a clear and persuasive style:
- Do put material facts in context.
The facts we select to include in a brief and how we present those facts are important. But which facts should we include, and which should we omit? We must include all legally relevant facts and background facts that are necessary to understand the legally relevant facts. But we also have to present the facts (both good and bad as I discussed in an earlier post) in a way that tells our client’s story effectively and persuasively. And sometimes that means including context or material that makes the story more interesting.
Take this example from a brief filed by now Chief Justice Roberts in State of Alaska v. EPA, No. 02-658:
The Red Dog Mine. For generations, Inupiat Eskimos hunting and fishing in the DeLong Mountains in Northwest Alaska had been aware of orange- and red-stained creek beds in which fish could not survive. In the 1960s, a bush pilot and part-time prospector by the name of Bob Baker noticed striking discolorations in the hills and creek beds of a wide valley in the western DeLongs. Unable to land his plane on the rocky tundra to investigate, Baker alerted the U.S. Geological Survey. Exploration of the area eventually led to the discovery of a wealth of zinc and lead deposits. Although Baker died before the significance of his observations became known, his faithful traveling companion—an Irish Setter who often flew shotgun—was immortalized by a geologist who dubbed the creek Baker had spotted “Red Dog” Creek. Mark Skok, Alaska’s Red Dog Mine: Beating the Odds, Minerals Today, at 8 (June 1991).
The case was about the Clean Air Act, “best available control technology,” and permitting authorities. Adding details about a bush pilot and his dog was a way to make what most would view as a boring case a bit more interesting. And of course, the author tied these details into his argument, at least indirectly, later in the brief.
- Do write in a professional and dignified manner.
Legal writing is professional writing and thus, we should write in a manner that recognizes the importance of our work as writers; and in a way that recognizes the importance of our primary audience—appellate judges. We shouldn’t write in a way that insults our opponents or the court. We must not include ad hominem attacks or sarcasm in our briefs. Attempts at humor should be avoided too—none of us are as funny as we think we are.
I know some (perhaps many) will disagree, but I think it’s ok to use contractions. They make our writing more conversational and less stilted, but not less professional. And start a sentence with and, but, or, or so now and then. Doing so has the same effect.
- Do put citations at the end of a sentence.
We must cite the authorities we rely upon, and we must do so each time that we rely upon them. That’s simple enough. There is some debate, however, about whether citations should be placed in footnotes or the text. I think they should be placed in the text for two reasons. First, judges are used to seeing citations in the text not in footnotes and our job is to make the judge’s job easier. By doing something the judge doesn’t expect or isn’t accustomed to, we make their job more difficult. Second, citations convey more information than just where to find an authority. Citations tell us the value of the authority, i.e., is it binding or persuasive, the age of the authority, etc. Of course, there are ways to convey that information and still use footnotes, but it is easier to just include the citation in the text.
- Do use pinpoint citations when they would be helpful.
They’re always helpful.
 Yes. I used “their” as a singular pronoun. That’s ok too. https://public.oed.com/blog/a-brief-history-of-singular-they/