Appellate Advocacy Blog

Writing Briefs, Rather than Literary Works

Some great literary works feature elegant and meticulously assembled sentences of considerable length. They carry you away like a leaf dancing in the wind, sending you headfirst into a wonderous and unfamiliar world. Like an evocative musical passage, it demands attention and provokes both emotions and thoughts that you know will reach completion in a way and with timing not yet knowable. It achieves its goals by sowing confusion and surprise in a calculated fashion but its words seem to be uttered breathlessly with the elongation of a wind instrument’s musical note held longer than thought humanly possible.

The task of brief writing plays a markedly different tune, even if it embodies literary qualities unique to the genre. It seeks not to astonish but to develop a clear, logical, and compelling path to the advocate’s preferred result. A brief advances abstract legal concepts but then dresses them in examples, often drawn from precedents that provide concrete applications that align with the case at hand.

The best brief writers prepare the reader for what is to come. The opening sentence of a section or a paragraph will provide a signpost about what is ahead. It prepares the reader to receive the thought. A sentence that begins with “ordinarily” advises a reader that the rest of the sentence will declare something familiar and seemingly unassailable. Yet, it also signals the reader that the sentences that follow will explain why this case does not involve ordinary circumstances but a distinctive situation that demands a conceptually different approach.

Signals may be individual words, or they may be clauses or full sentences. In one argument I had before the Supreme Court, Justice Breyer asked me to name the best precedent to support my point. He correctly anticipated the case I would cite. He told me that he had the case in front of him and asked me to explain a sentence in it that seemed to undermine my point. The Respondent’s reply brief also homed in on that sentence. I responded to Justice Breyer by explaining that he (as well as my opponent) had left off a dependent clause that proceeded the words he quoted. That clause, I explained, changed the sentence’s meaning in my favor. Justice Breyer chuckled at my response and agreed with my position. Rather than serve as a question designed to trip me up, he was looking to evoke the response I made.

The episode also demonstrates that judicial opinions often have signals or signposts to aid the reader in understanding the ruling. The legal issues that often provide the fodder of appeals usually involve submerged complexities lurking below the simplicity found on the surface. The writer who wishes to provide a clear path to a result understands that a brief or court opinion may need to build toward that end by assuring that the reader anticipates the path ahead as essential to understanding why it compels a favorable result.

Recognition is Nice, But Results and a Compelling Story is What Counts

Advocates enjoy receiving recognition. We like to think that a job well done is a reward in itself. When the effort establishes an important new precedent, the satisfaction ought to be even better. A week ago today, I was privileged to receive the 2024 Appellate Advocacy Award from the National Civil Justice Institute for a 2022 victory in the Ohio Supreme Court. When the award was announced, I received a nice email of congratulations from a justice on another state’s supreme court, indicating that the award was well deserved based on my win. I appreciated the congratulations that the award and the many emails I received represented, but it also had me pondering what makes a judicial victory sufficiently different that it merits this type of recognition.

Certainly, there are many run-of-the-mill appeals that are taken as of right but do not move the needle on the case or on the law. These appeals are important to the clients, but perhaps to few others. Still, others have great potential to answer issues not yet addressed by the courts or to change the law. My recognition came in a case that successfully challenged the constitutionality of a state law as it applied to our case. It overcame considerable odds to reach that conclusion. The skill and effort I employed, and even the inventiveness of the arguments and strategy I utilized, would have been no different had the sharply divided court come out the other way. So, plainly, one element that counts, disproportionately, is victory. We celebrate winners and not equally important losing efforts that may pay off later.

Another element necessary for recognition is a compelling story. Without one even the most surprising win, the creation of a leading precedent in an area of law, and an innovative approach to the argument may not inspire the recognition that carries with it even broader impact. I was lucky enough to have a case come to me with compelling underlying facts and a cry for justice that melted even the most hardened hearts. It was the story of a young girl, lured to sleepovers at a friend’s home, only to have a nighttime drink spiked to put her in a deep sleep and sexually assaulted by friend’s father – 34 times. He also videotaped the assaults of both this plaintiff and others. He went to prison, but the psychological injury to the plaintiff led to homelessness, drug addiction, and a long road to finding a more normal life.

Despite a substantial jury verdict, consisting entirely of noneconomic damages, state law required that the court reduce it to $250,000, which the trial court did. The reduction sent a message that the value of the plaintiff’s life was a small fraction of what the jury determined. An intermediate appellate court also rejected the constitutional challenge. At the state supreme court, a bare majority agreed that the state damage cap law’s exemption for permanent physical injuries of a catastrophic nature, irrationally excluded permanent, catastrophic psychological injuries, in violation of due process. Dissenters sought to avoid the question by latching onto the idea that the issue was moot because the defendant was judgment-proof. Another dissenter complained that the nine months from oral argument to decision was insufficient time for him to research and write a proper dissent by a majority determined to issue the decision before the end of the year. To me, that seemed an odd complaint, given that appellate advocates normally have but 30 days to brief the issue (especially as I had been brought into the case at the reply-brief stage).

But the dissent was a bid to encourage a motion for reconsideration. The chief justice, who had written the majority opinion, was stepping down at the end of the year due to hitting the mandatory retirement age. If reconsideration spilled over to the new year, a new and very different majority would decide the motion.

Reconsideration was filed late at night on December 26. Anticipating that motion, my response was largely written. I tweaked it to address some unexpected citations and filed the next morning. Reconsideration was denied December 29. The case is Brandt v. Pompa, 171 Ohio St. 3d 693, 220 N.E.3d 703 (2022). And the now-adult plaintiff knows the value of her life was vindicated even if she never sees any of that money – and others in similar circumstances know that their claims will not be artificially degraded.

Trapped Between Two Precedents

            Appeals often turn on where the line exists between broad principles and specific applications. Advocates fondly cite high-flown rhetoric about something that favors their clients and the heavy burden that must be met to overcome it. On the other hand, opponents may meet that argument with declarations about how no right is unfettered and provide examples of exceptions that align with their position.

            Take, for example, the right to engage in political discussions. A familiar description of the right holds that it represents “a profound national commitment to the principle that debate on public issues should be uninhibited, robust, and wide-open, and that it may well include vehement, caustic, and sometimes unpleasantly sharp attacks on government and public officials.”[1]  The decision also recognizes that “erroneous statement is inevitable in free debate, and that it must be protected if the freedoms of expression are to have the ‘breathing space’ that they ‘need . . . to survive.’”[2] In fact, the New York Times Court laid down the gauntlet by declaring that the First Amendment “was fashioned to assure unfettered interchange of ideas for the bringing about of political and social changes desired by the people.”[3]

The clarion call for broad constitutional tolerance of political speech that the opinion represents provides welcome fodder for an advocate seeking to ride a free-speech wave. Yet, just a year later, the Supreme Court retreated a bit from that description of the scope of political speech. Rather than treat the right as completely unfettered, the Court acknowledged that freedom “implies the existence of an organized society maintaining the public order, without which liberty itself would be lost in the excesses of anarchy.”[4]

The two decisions set up a traditional appellate issue that can occur in any area of law: where is the cutoff between the promise and the limitation at issue in a case. Certainly, that conflict cannot be resolved in the abstract. It requires the factual context to determine which approach should prevail in a particular scenario.

            What is important, though, is that an advocate acknowledge the balancing that must take place. Unlike some negotiations, appellate advocacy is not about staking out an extreme position and hoping that a compromise gives you most of what you really want. Instead, it is about convincing your panel that you have adopted a workable and reasonable approach that it should endorse. That is why it is important to recognize the limits of your position, anticipating the pushback and responding to why it still works in your favor.

            At the same time, your position may require new exceptions or a wholesale rethinking of existing precedent. The Supreme Court has developed a reputation for not taking stare decisis as seriously as its predecessors. It has shown a willingness to reconsider precedent and abandon it because it believes the holding was wrong.

            In fact, two justices have called for New York Times, the case I quoted at the top of this post, to be reconsidered, although not as a result of any hostility to free speech per se. Justice Thomas, for example, advocates for reconsideration of the actual-malice standard that New York Times articulated to protect citizens from being sued by public officials over criticism. He has written that the case and decisions extending it “were policy-driven decisions masquerading as constitutional law” without a basis in text, history, or constitutional structure.[5] He has also expressed concern about the “proliferation of falsehoods” as a “serious matter” that might be remedied by “traditional remedies like libel suits.”[6]

            Justice Gorsuch has expressed a similar view, suggesting that the changes in “our Nation’s media landscape . . . in ways few could have foreseen” allows “virtually anyone in this country can publish virtually anything for immediate consumption virtually anywhere in the world” and should permit some type of corrective mechanism like libel to work as it once did.”[7]

            I mention the possibility of an overruling of precedent, not because I believe it warranted in the case of New York Times, but because a request to reconsider precedent at the proper level of court can provide another tool for an advocate boxed in by precedent, particularly when there are ready advocates for that position on the court.

 

[1] New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U.S. 254, 270 (1964).

[2] Id. at 271-72 (citation omitted; ellipses in orig.).

[3] Id. at 269.

[4] Cox v. Louisiana, 379 U.S. 536, 554 (1965):

[5] Blankenship v. NBCUniversal, LLC, 144 S. Ct. 5 (2023) (Mem.) (citations omitted) (Thomas, J., concurring in the denial of cert.). Blankenship is only the latest of opinions written by the justice expressing this view.

[6] Berisha v. Lawson, 141 S. Ct. 2424, 2425 (2021) (Thomas, J., dissenting from the denial of cert.).

[7] Id. at 2427 (Gorsuch, J., dissenting from the denial of cert.).

Will Former President Donald Trump’s Conviction Be Overturned?

On May 30, 2024, a Manhattan jury convicted former President Donald Trump of falsifying business records with the intent to defraud voters in the 2020 election. The conviction involves, among other things, a non-disclosure agreement that adult film actress Stormy Daniels signed in 2016, which prohibited Daniels from discussing the alleged sexual conduct that, in 2006, occurred with her and Trump.

After the sentencing hearing, which is scheduled for July 11, 2024, Trump’s attorneys will file an appeal seeking to overturn the decision. Below is a brief discussion of the issues that Trump’s attorneys will likely raise on appeal, and a prediction of whether they will be successful.

    1.    The failure to remove Judge Merchan from the case.

Judge Merchan allegedly donated $15 to President Joe Biden’s 2016 election campaign and $10 to an organization called Stop Republicans. A state ethics panel subsequently cautioned Merchan against making such contributions to avoid the appearance of bias. Also, Judge Merchan’s daughter, Loren, works for Authentic Campaigns, a political marketing agency that serves Democratic political candidates, and for a time, Loren was Authentic’s president and Chief Operating Officer. Loren also allegedly displayed an image of President Trump behind bars on her Twitter page, which was later removed. Based on these facts, Trump’s attorneys requested that Judge Merchan be removed from the case. That request was denied.

Perhaps Judge Merchan should have recused himself, but whether he was legally required to do so is a different matter. Judge Merchan donated a small amount to Biden’s campaign eight years ago. Also, Loren’s job at Authentic does not mean that Judge Merchan, because of his daughter’s political activities, will be biased in the trial or have an actual or apparent conflict of interest.

            Prediction: Unsuccessful.

    2.    The failure to change venue.

To many legal scholars and commentators, President Trump faced an uphill battle in this trial because Manhattan is a decidedly liberal city where over eighty-five percent of residents voted for President Biden in 2020, and where a bias toward Trump exists. Indeed, when jury selection began, half of those called for jury duty immediately stated that they could not be impartial in their deliberations. And of the twelve jurors selected, it is highly likely that the majority voted for Biden and harbored negative feelings toward Trump. Given these facts, Trump’s attorneys argued for a venue change, which Judge Merchan denied.

However, the law did not likely require a venue change. To hold that the political orientations of the jurors justify a change in venue in every or most cases would upend the jury system and make criminal trials incredibly inefficient.  Every criminal defendant could argue that the political demographics of a county, city, or state justified a venue change. Moreover, a venue change would not guarantee that existing biases in another venue would be eliminated; also, jurors can certainly assess the facts and evidence objectively despite their political affiliations.  Simply put, it is quite speculative to assume that jurors, who take an oath to be impartial and base their decision on the facts and evidence, would yield to and convict or acquit based upon their political biases. One should have more faith in the citizens of this country.

            Prediction: Unsuccessful.

    3.    Judge Merchan’s decision to allow Stormy Daniels’ testimony.

At the trial, Stormy Daniels testified about a sexual encounter that she had with President Trump in 2006 and, in that testimony, she provided graphic details about the encounter that did not relate to any of the elements of the charges against Trump. Daniels’ testimony also contradicted her prior statements, where she denied that such an encounter ever occurred. Based on the explicit sexual details that Daniels provided in her testimony, the defense will argue that this testimony was unduly prejudicial.

But during the opening statements President Trump’s lawyer, Todd Blanche, told the jury that Trump never had a sexual encounter with Daniels, thus justifying the prosecution’s decision to call Daniels to refute this assertion, which was the alleged motive for the non-disclosure agreement. However, the graphic details to which Daniels testified, such as what President Trump was wearing, how long their sexual encounter lasted, and what sexual position he preferred (Judge Merchan sustained an objection to this part of the testimony), were unnecessary. Surprisingly, the defense did not object to certain portions of this graphic testimony, which prompted Judge Merchan to criticize the defense for not making such objections.

Regardless, as stated above, because Trump specifically denied having a sexual encounter with Daniels, the prosecution was justified in calling Daniels to refute this statement. The question on appeal, therefore, will turn on whether the lurid details that Daniels provided–and which were irrelevant to the prosecution’s case–were sufficiently prejudicial to deprive President Trump of a fair trial.

The answer is, most likely, no. The appellate courts will decide that this was a harmless error.

            Prediction: Unsuccessful.

    4.    Judge Merchan’s evidentiary rulings.

Trump’s attorneys will argue that Judge Merchan’s evidentiary rulings reflected a pro-prosecution bias throughout the trial and compromised President Trump’s right to a fair trial.

Some of the objections that Judge Merchan sustained for the prosecution were questionable. For example, the way Judge Merchan limited Robert Costello’s testimony–not to mention his hostile demeanor toward Costello, calling him contemptuous and threatening to strike his testimony–was concerning. Of course, Costello did himself no favors by acting disrespectfully when Judge Merchan sustained one of the prosecution’s objections. You would think that a lawyer of Costello’s caliber would refrain from such conduct, which severely compromised his credibility.

Additionally, Judge Merchan also restricted the testimony of former Federal Election Commission Chairman Brad Smith, who would have testified that Trump’s payments to Cohen did not constitute a campaign finance violation.  In fact, the restrictions were so significant that the defense decided not to call Smith, Furthermore, Judge Merchan allowed the prosecution to tell the jury that Cohen had pleaded guilty to a campaign finance violation – which was among the charges that Trump faced.[1] When Judge Merchan allowed this, he should have permitted Brad Smith’s testimony to refute the prosecution’s argument. Judge Merchan’s failure to do so is very problematic because it enabled the jury to think, “If Cohen pleaded guilty to a campaign finance violation, then Trump must be guilty too.”

Also, Judge Merchan’s decision regarding the permissible scope of cross-examination if Trump testified was troubling. Specifically, Judge Merchan ruled that the prosecution could ask Trump about the verdict finding him liable for defaming E. Jean Carroll, about the four-hundred-and-fifty-four-million-dollar verdict that Judge Arthur Engeron imposed in President Trump’s civil fraud trial, and about Trump’s numerous violations of Judge Merchan’s gag order. None of these questions related to the charges facing Trump, and allowing the prosecution to ask such questions was more prejudicial than probative. And these rulings played a significant role in Trump’s decision not to testify.

Judge Merchan’s decision regarding the scope of cross-examination may be problematic given the Court of Appeals of New York’s recent decision in People v. Weinstein, where the Court, by a 4-3 decision reversed the conviction against Harvey Weinstein on sexual assault charges. In that case, the Court of Appeals held that the trial court improperly allowed several women to testify that Weinstein had sexually assaulted them, even though Weinstein was not on trial for assaulting those women. As the majority stated, “[u]nder our system of justice, the accused has a right to be held to account only for the crime charged and, thus, allegations of prior bad acts may not be admitted against them for the sole purpose of establishing their propensity for criminality.”[2]

To be clear, this is not to say that Judge Merchan was consciously biased against President Trump. It is to say that some of his evidentiary rulings, including when considering the Court of Appeals’ decision in Weinstein, might constitute reversible error.

            Prediction: Possibly successful.

    5.     Whether Michael Cohen’s testimony should not have been given any weight by the jury, thus justifying a directed verdict for President Trump.

Michael Cohen was not a credible witness.  He lied to Congress.  He pleaded guilty to tax evasion and bank fraud (which were unrelated to Trump), which led to his disbarment and incarceration. He lied to a federal court. He called a deceased federal judge corrupt. He secretly recorded President Trump–his client at the time–during a meeting where they discussed the payment to Daniels. He stole thousands from the Trump Organization. And he lied to or omitted material information about an October phone call with Trump’s bodyguard, Keith Schiller. Also, during his testimony, Cohen blamed his legal troubles on being “knee-deep in the cult” of President Trump, showing that he lacked any sense of personal accountability. Lest there be any doubt about Cohen’s character, watch his belligerent rants online, where he states how much he wants Trump to go to prison while wearing a shirt depicting Trump behind bars.

Cohen had about as much credibility as those claiming that the government faked the moon landing or that Elvis faked his death.

Incredibly, however, the jury believed at least some of Cohen’s testimony because Cohen was the only witness who could testify to, among other things, Trump’s specific intent to defraud voters and promote or prevent the election of any person to public office.[3]  Given that the trial occurred in Manhattan and that at least some jurors despised Trump, this should not be surprising. Moreover, although some commentators made much of the fact that there were two lawyers on the jury, this did not bode well for President Trump. One attorney, who moved to New York from Oregon, has lived in Chelsea for five years, which is notoriously liberal.  The other lawyer worked as a civil litigator at a firm in New York City, and firms in New York City are overwhelmingly liberal.

Regardless, is the jury’s reliance on Cohen’s testimony a basis to reverse the decision? No. Jurors are given wide latitude to credit or discredit the testimony of a witness, and an appellate court will not second-guess the jury’s fact-finding.

            Prediction: Unsuccessful.

    6.    The charge that Trump falsified business records.

Based on the evidence, the jury concluded that President Trump falsified business records. The facts suggested that after Stormy Daniels threatened to go public with her story, Cohen established a corporation, from which he paid $130,000 to Daniels after obtaining a home equity loan. Trump subsequently reimbursed Cohen for the money that he paid to Daniels.

President Trump’s accountant designated these payments as “legal expenses,” using a drop-down menu on a computer to make this designation. Why this designation was improper given that Trump made the reimbursement in connection with a legally enforceable non-disclosure agreement is unclear. And one can certainly question precisely how President Trump “caused” the records to be falsified—if they even constituted falsification. What’s more, the entries into the business records were made after the 2016 election. Thus, how can President Trump be found guilty of falsifying business records to promote or prevent the election of a candidate when the election is already over?

The appellate courts, however, will probably not focus on this issue because it will likely defer to the jury’s fact-finding.   

            Prediction: Unsuccessful.

    7.    Judge Merchan’s jury instructions.

This is where President Trump will succeed on appeal.

Judge Merchan allowed the jury to reach a non-unanimous verdict on the underlying crime(s) that elevated a misdemeanor barred by the statute of limitations into a felony.

To best explain this, consider the following examples: The crime of armed robbery typically requires a person to: (1) take the property of another; (2) without their consent; and (3) with the use of force. To obtain a conviction, all three elements must be satisfied. But the jury need not be unanimous on, for example, how the defendant used force. Some might conclude that the defendant used a gun, while others may conclude that the defendant used a knife. Unanimity on the underlying means is unnecessary if all jurors agree that the defendant used force because the use of force is the element that must be satisfied. Likewise, first-degree murder requires that the defendant: (1) intentionally; (2) kill another person. To convict, the jury must only agree that the defendant acted intentionally to cause the death of another person. It need not agree, however, on whether the defendant killed a person with a gun, a knife, or an ax.

The New York election law is different. It prohibits a candidate from: (1) promoting or preventing the election of a candidate; (2) by unlawful means. Unlike the robbery or murder examples, which specify the conduct needed to satisfy each element (e.g., the use of force), the New York law, in using the vague term “unlawful means,” does not delineate what conduct constitutes “unlawful means.” As such, the “unlawful means” element arguably permits a jury to choose among numerous crimes to convict the defendant without agreeing unanimously that the elements of any single crime were satisfied.

In President Trump’s trial, this is precisely what occurred. The prosecution stated in its closing argument that in deciding whether Trump was guilty of a second underlying crime, the jury could conclude that Trump violated campaign finance law, federal tax law, or engaged in additional falsification of business records. To make matters worse, Judge Merchan instructed the jury that they must only reach unanimity on which underlying crime was committed—not on whether the elements of any underlying crime were satisfied.[4]

In so doing, Judge Merchan permitted the jurors to convict Trump without unanimous agreement that the elements of any single crime were satisfied. Thus, if four jurors agreed that Trump was guilty of a federal campaign finance violation, four agreed that he was guilty of violating federal tax law, and four agreed that he was guilty of falsifying additional business records, Trump could be convicted. In fact, to date, we still do not know what underlying crime(s) the jury found Trump to have committed. This instruction arguably violated the United States Supreme Court’s decisions in Ramos v. Louisiana and Richardson v. United States.[5]

That instruction was a reversible error. And it may not be the only one.

By allowing the prosecution to proceed on an indictment that never specified the underlying crime that elevated the misdemeanor (falsification of business records) to a felony, the prosecution deprived President Trump of his Sixth Amendment right to know the nature of the charges that he was facing. That is precisely why, to this day, we have no idea what underlying crime the jurors reached an agreement upon.

That is the point – and the problem.

Additionally, the law upon which Trump was convicted–N.Y. Election Law 17-152–should be deemed unconstitutional because the term “unlawful means" is vague and essentially permits a jury to convict a defendant even if they do not agree on the underlying crime constituting the "unlawful means," and even if they do not agree unanimously that the underlying elements of any single crime have been satisfied.  

            Prediction: Successful.

***

One must wonder why these charges were ever brought. Convicting a former and possibly future president based on conduct occurring eighteen years ago, which involved an alleged “falsification of business records” that occurred eight years ago, is concerning. It suggests that the legal system is being weaponized against a political opponent. After all, if President Biden had engaged in this conduct, do you think that Manhattan District Attorney Alvin Bragg would have brought these charges? Of course not.

That, again, is the point – and the problem.[6]

Trump’s conviction will be overturned.

 

[1] Specifically, during its opening statement, the prosecution told the jury that “Cohen will also testify in this trial that he ultimately pled guilty and went to jail for causing an unlawful corporate contribution in connection with the Karen McDougal payments and for making an excessive campaign contribution in connection with the Stormy Daniels payoff.” 

[2] See Peter Sterne, Why Did New York’s Highest Court Overturn Harvey Weinstein’s Conviction? (April 29, 2024), available at: Why did New York’s highest court overturn Harvey Weinstein’s conviction? - City & State New York (cityandstateny.com)

[3] See N.Y. Election Law 17-152.

[4] Consider by analogy the following law: “It shall be unlawful to physically harm a person through unlawful means.” This would allow a jury to convict a defendant even if four jurors agreed that the harm occurred through kidnapping, four others agreed that the harm occurred through assault, and four others agreed that the harm occurred through battery. In such a circumstance, the jurors would not agree unanimously that the defendant’s conduct satisfied the elements of any single crime. That should prohibit a conviction.

[5] 590 U.S. 83 (2020); 526 U.S. 813 (1999).

[6] Recently, Judge Merchan notified the parties that, on May 29, 2024, a cousin of one of the jurors allegedly posted on a social media website stating as follows: "My cousin is a juror and says Trump is getting convicted! Thank you folks for all your hard work!!!!" See Ella Lee, Trump Hush Money Judge Flags Facebook User Claiming Early Knowledge of the Verdict (May 29, 2024), available at: Trump hush money judge flags Facebook user claiming early knowledge of verdict (thehill.com)

 

New Rules on Appealing Factual Findings under the Clear-Evidence Rule

Advocates usually face tough sledding if their appeal merely disputes factual findings. Those appeals confront the “clear-evidence” standard, a demanding test that requires the appellate court to find that the findings are not plausible given the evidentiary record. Appellate courts assume that trial courts have greater expertise in evaluating the facts because experiencing the presentation of the case in the living courtroom allows a judge to assess credibility, among other things, that a cold written record cannot convey.

In Cooper v. Harris (2017), the Supreme Court, in an opinion written by Justice Kagan, applied that rubric to uphold a three-judge panel’s decision that invalidated a North Carolina congressional redistricting plan under the “deferential standard of review” that applies to factual findings. The Court held that a “plaintiff may make the required showing [to demonstrate that race was the predominant factor in drawing district lines] through ‘direct evidence’ of legislative intent, ‘circumstantial evidence of a district’s shape and demographics,’ or a mix of both.” The decision distinguished an earlier favorable review of one of the same districts in  Easley v. Cromartie (2001), because the majority read that decision to involve a particularly week evidentiary record of racial considerations that could only be overcome if the plaintiffs had offered an alternative map. That map would have to demonstrate that the legislators’ political goal could have been achieved without regard to race. In Cooper, the Court held sufficient strong evidence, including direct evidence, existed so that an alternate map was unnecessary.

Justice Thomas concurred, writing that the analysis in Cooper “represents a welcome course correction to this Court’s application of the clear-error standard.”

Justice Alito wrote the dissent. He asserted that the majority had treated the earlier precedent “like a disposable household item—say, a paper plate or napkin—to be used once and then tossed in the trash.” He labeled the absence of an alternative map “a critical factor in our analysis” in Cromartie and asserted its absence in the Cooper record required that North Carolina’s new map be upheld.

What a difference a few years and a few justices make! On May 23, the Supreme Court reinstated a South Carolina congressional map that the district court had found to be the product of racial gerrymandering. This time, the writers switched sides. Justice Alito wrote the majority opinion, Justice Thomas concurred with the new majority, and Justice Kagan authored the dissent. The majority’s treatment of the clear-evidence standard suggests a new wrinkle for the clear-evidence rule that likely affects a wide swath of cases.

In Alexander v. South Carolina State Conference of the NAACP, No. 22-807, the Court held that politics permissibly informed the map-drawing task even if the political motivation correlated with treating race as a predominant factor in the maps. Because the district court did not disentangle race and politics, the Court said, its findings of fact were clearly erroneous. To prevail on the racial-gerrymandering issue, the Court required a plaintiff to rule out the competing explanation of politics. It insisted, as it asserted Cromartie required, that a plaintiff would have to draw a partisan map consistent with the legislature’s intent to favor the dominant political party but with greater racial balance. In other words, the plaintiff had to do a better job of creating the same partisan advantage without evidencing any racial discrimination, a requirement that probably sounds the death knell for racial gerrymandering cases. The Court declared that the district court committed “clear factual error in concluding that race played a predominant role in the legislature’s design,” and the absence of an alternative map warranted an “adverse inference against the Challengers.”

The opinion further called the plaintiffs’ expert reports “deeply flawed” for much the same reason. The “tens of thousands of maps [produced] with differently configured districts” did not include “a single map that achieved the legislature’s partisan goal” of keeping the challenged districts Republican, the majority held.

In the majority’s version of the evidence, no direct evidence suggested the legislature’s map was drawn with a racial “target,” as the district court found. The Court also criticized the district court for “infer[ring]” that, by keeping the racial percentages in the districts the same as previously existed (17 percent), race played a predominant role in the districts’ shape. It noted that no map offered by the plaintiffs “would have satisfied the legislature’s political aim” without increasing the concentration of minority voters, which would have created a Democratic majority. Thus, the majority concluded the 17-percent standard was “simply a side effect of the legislature’s partisan goal” and not constitutionally suspect.

The majority also rejected the dissent’s criticism that clear-error review is essentially perfunctory, declaring that “appellants are entitled to meaningful appellate review” of factual findings.

Justice Thomas concurred but protested the searching factual review that the majority undertook because, in his view, it “exceeds the proper scope of clear-error review” and was unnecessary to resolve the case. It is worth noting that the bulk of the Thomas dissent argues against the Court’s involvement in racial gerrymandering cases altogether. Within that stance, Thomas criticizes a “boundless view of equitable remedies” that he traces to fallout from Brown v. Board of Education and the decision’s “impatience with the pace of discrimination,” seemingly treating that as an original sin, which may have been justified at the time but that has brought about “extravagant uses of judicial power” well beyond the “Framers’ design.”

Justice Kagan’s dissent mounted more withering criticism, starting with the majority’s portrayal of the plaintiffs’ evidence in only the “sketchiest of terms.” She pointed out that evidence established that the software used by the mapmakers was configured to show how any change in the district lines affected the district’s racial composition and achieved “to the decimal point” the exclusion of African-American citizens to accomplish their partisan goals. Perhaps more importantly for appellate advocates, she accused the majority of abandoning the clear-error standard that substantially defers to plausible factual findings, by choosing the evidence that supports its preferred outcome, “ignores or minimizes less convenient proof,” and errs in its reading of expert opinions, while asserting a better understanding of the evidence than did the three-judge district court.

Kagan’s critique also asserts that the majority’s new clear-evidence rule defers, not to the district court, but to the losing defendant because the majority interposed a presumption that legislatures act in good faith. She adds that the alternative-map requirement constitutes a new invention by the majority, in whose absence an adverse inference is drawn “no matter how much proof of a constitutional violation [plaintiffs] otherwise present,” describing this as judicial “micro-management of a plaintiff’s case . . . elsewhere unheard of in constitutional litigation.” She then suggests that the majority opinion is an adoption of Justice Alito’s dissent from Cooper so that the “dissent becomes the law.” Only in that dissent, she points out, did an alternative map requirement receive support before. She also lambasted the majority for reformulating her own majority opinion in Cooper.

The bottom line outside the context of gerrymandering cases is that the majority endorsed a more powerful review of evidence by appellate courts, particularly when legal presumptions exist that support the appellant, creating a level of deference to their evidence over that found by the district court. Any advocate seeking clear-evidence review should now search for favorable presumptions that would support greater appellate scrutiny of the evidence.

Attack the Reasoning, not the Judge

In her post Be Accurate in Your Case Citations, Professor Dysart mentioned two things that she emphasizes when she talks to attorneys and students about professionalism in appellate advocacy. First, the importance of accurately representing case law and the record. (Her post focused on this point.) Second, the importance of not attacking the lower court judge or opposing counsel. The latter point called to mind Sanches v. Carrollton Farmers Branch Independent School District.[1]

There, the appellant’s opening brief contained this paragraph:

The Magistrate's egregious errors in its failure to utilize or apply the law constitute extraordinary circumstances, justifying vacateur of the assignment to Magistrate. Specifically, the Magistrate applied improper legal standards in deciding the Title IX elements of loss of educational opportunities and deliberate indifference, ignoring precedent. Further, the Court failed to consider Sanches' Section 1983 claims and summarily dismissed them without analysis or review. Because a magistrate is not an Article III judge, his incompetence in applying general principals of law are extraordinary.

This paragraph was of much interest to at least one judge on the panel. Appellant’s counsel spent the first five minutes of his fifteen minutes of oral argument time responding to questions about the attack on the magistrate judge’s competence. You can listen to the argument here: Sanches Oral Argument.wma. That time would have been better spent discussing the substance of the appeal.

The court’s PUBLISHED[2] decision called out the attack on the magistrate judge:

Not content to raise this issue of law in a professional manner, Sanches and her attorneys launched an unjustified attack on Magistrate Judge Stickney. The main portion of the argument on this point, contained in Sanches's opening brief, reads verbatim as follows:

The Magistrate's egregious errors in its [sic] failure to utilize or apply the law constitute extraordinary circumstances, justifying vacateur [sic] of the assignment to [sic] Magistrate. Specifically, the Magistrate applied improper legal standards in deciding the Title IX elements of loss of educational opportunities and deliberate indifference, ignoring precedent. Further, the Court failed to consider Sanches' Section 1983 claims and summarily dismissed them without analysis or review. Because a magistrate is not an Article III judge, his incompetence in applying general principals [sic] of law are [sic] extraordinary.

(Footnote omitted.)

These sentences are so poorly written that it is difficult to decipher what the attorneys mean, but any plausible reading is troubling, and the quoted passage is an unjustified and most unprofessional and disrespectful attack on the judicial process in general and the magistrate judge assignment here in particular. This may be a suggestion that Magistrate Judge Stickney is incompetent. It might be an assertion that all federal magistrate judges are incompetent. It could be an allegation that only Article III judges are competent. Or it may only mean that Magistrate Judge Stickney's decisions in this case are incompetent, a proposition that is absurd in light of the correctness of his impressive rulings. Under any of these possible readings, the attorneys' attack on Magistrate Judge Stickney's decisionmaking is reprehensible.[3]

But the court didn’t stop there, it also called out the errors in the appellant’s brief:

Usually we do not comment on technical and grammatical errors, because anyone can make such an occasional mistake, but here the miscues are so egregious and obvious that an average fourth grader would have avoided most of them. For example, the word “principals” should have been “principles.” The word “vacatur” is misspelled. The subject and verb are not in agreement in one of the sentences, which has a singular subject (“incompetence”) and a plural verb (“are”). Magistrate Judge Stickney is referred to as “it” instead of “he” and is called a “magistrate” instead of a “magistrate judge.” And finally, the sentence containing the word “incompetence” makes no sense as a matter of standard English prose, so it is not reasonably possible to understand the thought, if any, that is being conveyed. It is ironic that the term “incompetence” is used here, because the only thing that is incompetent is the passage itself.[4]

Yikes!

Attacking the lower court judge is not just poor advocacy that damages your reputation and your client’s case, it also may subject you to disciplinary action. The Model Rules of Professional Conduct say that “A lawyer shall not make a statement that the lawyer knows to be false or with reckless disregard as to its truth or falsity concerning the qualifications or integrity of a judge, adjudicatory officer or public legal officer . . . .”[5] So, attack the reasoning, not the judge.

 

[1] 647 F.3d 156 (5th Cir. 2011).

[2] Professor Dysart’s post also noted that the decision she discussed was published. Be Accurate in Your Case Citations.

[3] Sanches, 647 F.3d at 172.

[4] Id. at n.13.

[5] ABA Model Rule of Professional Conduct 8.2(a).

And or Or

Statutory construction figures in many appeals. Despite well-known canons that guide courts in interpreting statutes, advocates and courts frequently dispute a written law’s meaning. The overarching principle used in both federal and state courts seeks to read a statute to reflect the intent of the legislature that enacted it. To determine legislative intent, precedent advises that the law’s text, read as a whole, is the best indicia of what the enacting body intended. In taking a textualist approach, courts attempt to read the words of a statute in their ordinary meaning, absent some indication that the words have a technical meaning or are used as terms of art.

When a plain-meaning approach does not resolve ambiguities in the text, courts often resort to legislative history, hoping to derive an answer from hearings, reports, and legislators’ remarks. One example of particular contention is the legislative use of “and” or “or.” The controversy over their usage has given rise to what is called the conjunctive/disjunctive canon. The canon holds, as one might assume, that the use of “and” is conjunctive, which means that the items in a list are joined. The use of “or” is disjunctive, which tells you that the items in a list are alternatives. Yet, nothing is as simple as that might seem to make it because lists can include negatives, plurals, and other phrases that create ambiguities.

In 2018, Congress enacted a criminal justice reform called the “First Step Act.” Among other things, it created criteria that would allow avoidance of mandatory minimum sentences. To apply this safety valve, a court must, in addition to other criteria, find:

        the defendant does not have--

                (A) more than 4 criminal history points, excluding any criminal history points resulting from a 1-point offense, as determined under the sentencing guidelines;

                (B) a prior 3-point offense, as determined under the sentencing guidelines; and

                (C) a prior 2-point violent offense, as determined under the sentencing guidelines.

In Pulsifer v. United States, decided on March 15, the Supreme Court grappled with what had baffled the circuit courts: must all three conditions be met as signified by the word “and,” or should the “does not have” that introduces the list indicate that A, B, and C are alternative qualifications.

The government argued to the Court that the requirements mean that a defendant with any one of the disqualifying criteria was ineligible for the leniency the law granted, as though it read A or B or C. The defendant arguing the use of and was conjunctive, argued that the law only disqualified a defendant if the record reflected all three at the same time.

A six-member majority sided with the government, but the line-up was a bit unusual. Justice Kagan wrote for a majority that included Chief Justice Roberts and Justices Thomas, Alito, Kavanaugh, and Barrett. Justice Gorsuch authored a dissent, joined by Justices Sotomayor and Jackson.

The majority said that there were “two grammatically permissible ways to read” the provision, so that either the government’s or the defendant’s might be plausible. However, grammatical rules alone could not answer the Question Presented, because the language had to be read in context. In other words, reliance simply on the conjunctive/disjunctive canon would be misplaced.

Invoking an example from the children’s book, The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Justice Kagan explained that sometimes in a series is joined by a single verb so when the caterpillar “ate through” a number of food items we understand that each listed food had a hole through which the caterpillar traveled. She then states that when a person says, “I’m not free on Saturday and Sunday,” . . . he most likely means “I’m not free on Saturday and I’m not free on Sunday.” What the person does not mean is that he is only available “one of those days,” but the entire weekend.

However, the inclusion of “does not have” at the top of the list “refers independently to crimes satisfying (1), crimes satisfying (2), and crimes satisfying (3)—not to whatever crimes manage to satisfy (1), (2), and (3) all at once.” Thus, even if Congress could have framed the criteria more clearly, the majority resolved the issue by determining that Congress could not have created an exception that swallowed the rule, but that recognized ineligibility for a more lenient sentence based on the seriousness of the offense. That sensible view, the majority surmised, is reflected in the government’s favored interpretation.

Justice Gorsuch’s lengthy dissent largely applies the conjunctive/disjunctive canon, refusing to rewrite the statute from its plain text where “or” must mean “or.”

Although the decision resolves the meaning of the First Step Act, both sides have provided advocates with ample argument points the next time legislation is less than translucent.

Oral Argument and Proper Preparation

Briefing, rather than oral argument, makes the difference, the common wisdom holds. While an excellent oral argument may not win a case, the assumption is that an exceedingly poor one might lose a case, unsettling what the judges had thought established by the briefs and caselaw. When the briefs establish a powerful case for one side or the other, a prepared court will use oral argument to explore the limits to that argument or the consequences of accepting the principle put forth. Yet, in a rare case, the briefing from both sides may be too good and the relevant precedents may pull equally in opposite directions. In those cases, the decision may rest on the presentation of the argument and the advocates’ responses to questions.

I emphasize “may” in that last sentence because a court may balk at picking between competing lines of precedent, choosing instead a theory that neither party has raised. A classic example of that is Mapp v. Ohio,[1] the  1961 ruling that applied the exclusionary rule for illegally seized evidence to the States.  The case entered the Supreme Court as a First Amendment issue. Police had mistakenly entered Dollree Mapp‘s apartment without a warrant, while searching for a person wanted in connection with a bombing. They apparently had the wrong apartment, mistakenly entering Mapp’s second-floor apartment, when the apartment they sought was on the first floor. When police came up empty on evidence related to the bombing, they continued the search while hoping to find something that would support a criminal charge. Finally, they found a trunk that contained a French sex book and nude sketches. Mapp was charged with possession of obscene materials. Although the case was briefed and argued as a First Amendment case, it left the Court as a landmark Fourth Amendment decision.

Advocates cannot and should not hope that a court will do the work for them. They must provide the judges with the tools that will bring about a favorable ruling. It means being prepared regardless of the direction the case takes. In the short handbook for counsel arguing cases in the Supreme Court that is provided to counsel, there is a telling example of how an advocate should even know his client’s business beyond what the case may involve. The case involved an issue of commercial speech. While arguing that his client had a First Amendment right to indicate the alcohol content of its beer on the label despite a prohibition in government regulations, the late Bruce Ennis was asked by a justice about the difference between beer and ale. Without missing a beat, despite the irrelevant nature of the question, Ennis provided a simple and satisfying answer.[2] Although the answer had nothing to do with the merits or the result, Ennis prevailed[3] – and made a very good impression on the Court for that answer to be included in its guide to advocates.

The need for preparation hit home for me again this past week, when I argued a case involving the constitutionality of a state statute in a state trial court. I had a principal argument in which I had great confidence but was prepared with several different back-up arguments that would achieve the same result if the court did not agree with the approach I opened with. My opponent had moved to dismiss the case, arguing that the plaintiffs were relying on a new, but unconstitutional change to the statute of limitations. The judge was well-prepared and had clearly read the briefs and cases thoroughly. She asked good questions of both of us. While opposing counsel presented his rebuttal, she asked him whether he had an alternative argument if she did not find his primary argument convincing. He seemed surprised that he needed one. It became clear that he had put all his eggs in one basket. After a two-hour morning argument, the judge returned that afternoon to the bench (having warned us she would) and ruled in my favor on my primary argument. Perhaps no backup argument would have derailed that train, but it seems as though at least one should have been advanced. Obviously, the briefs had made the difference, but oral argument could have provided more food for thought and perhaps some doubt about the proper result.

N.B.: a trial judge has an advantage in providing a quick, dispositive ruling that can be announced from the bench, as I experienced in the case described above. Even when there is an appellate panel, the court’s view may be obvious and reflected in a rapidly issued decision. Last year, the Seventh Circuit treated me to one very quick and favorable decision within weeks of the argument, where the court had made its unanimous view very clear. On the other hand, appellate courts can inexplicably drag their feet in deciding cases. This past Friday marked the two-year anniversary of an oral argument in a state intermediate appellate court, where I am still awaiting a decision.

 

[1] 367 U.S. 643 (1961).

[2] Supreme Court of the United States, Guide for Counsel in Cases to be Argued before the Supreme Court of the United States 6-7 (Oct. Term 2023), available at https://www.supremecourt.gov/casehand/Guide%20for%20Counsel%202023.pdf.

[3] Rubin v. Coors Brewing Co., 514 U.S. 476 (1995).

Using Verbs to Help Avoid Bias under ABA Model Rule 8.4(g)

As many know, I push students to avoid passive voice as a way to increase clarity.  We can also use careful verb choice to help remove bias.  Under ABA Model Rule 8.4(g) (2016), “It is professional misconduct for a lawyer to” engage in biased conduct, including “discrimination on the basis of race, sex, religion, national origin, ethnicity, disability, age, sexual orientation, gender identity, marital status or socioeconomic status in conduct related to the practice of law.”  Comment 3 explains “[s]uch discrimination includes harmful verbal or physical conduct that manifests bias or prejudice towards others.”  See https://www.americanbar.org/groups/professional_responsibility/publications/model_rules_of_professional_conduct/rule_8_4_misconduct/?login

In my classes, we discuss recognizing express and implicit bias, and then I suggest some concrete ways to help avoid bias in our legal writing.  One concrete way to eliminate bias is to choose verbs carefully. 

We know from social science that our verbs matter.  For example, in 1974 Loftus and Palmer published their famous study on eyewitness suggestion via verbs.  See https://www.simplypsychology.org/loftus-palmer.html.  Loftus and Palmer divided 45 students into 5 groups, asked them all to watch a video of a car crash, and then asked each group a slightly different question about the speed of the cars.  Loftus and Palmer manipulated the verb used in the question.  They asked the groups:  “How fast were they cars going when they smashed/collided/bumped/hi /contacted?”  Id.  Participants who heard “smashed” reported an average speed of 40.5 mph, while participants who heard “contacted” reported an average speed of 31.8 mph.  Id.  In other words, the eyewitnesses to the video crash responded to the verbs used by others to describe the crash.

When we hide the actor connected to our verbs, through passive voice, we can manipulate meaning even more.  See Robert C. Farrell, Why Grammar Matters: Conjugating Verbs in Modern Legal Opinions, 40 Loy. U. Chi. L.J. 1, 13-14 (2008).  For example, saying an “enslaver often withheld foods from the enslaved people on his plantation” has a very different meaning than “sometimes, enslaved people were not given food.”  When we use the passive voice about enslavers in my example, we are presenting a biased view of reality by not naming the actor who withheld food.  Thus, by removing the passive verb construction, we also decrease bias. 

Case law also shows how passive voice can create issues.  For example, in United States v. Zavalza-Rodriguez, 379 F.3d 1182, 1183 (10th Cir. 2004), the outcome turned on two competing provisions of the Federal Sentencing Guidelines.  The first provision used passive voice and allowed for a sentence enhancement “if a dangerous weapon” “was possessed.”  Id. at 1183-84.  The second clause allowed for a sentence reduction, under the active voice, if “the defendant” did not “possess a firearm or other dangerous weapon” in “connection with the offense.”  Id. The government argued because the defendant stipulated in plea agreement that a weapon “was possessed” under the first of these provisions, he could not assert he had not “possessed” a weapon under the second.  Id. at 1185. 

The Court of Appeals disagreed, noting, “[u]nder the first enhancing provision, the verb was ‘written in the passive voice, requiring a sentence enhancement “if a dangerous weapon (including a firearm) was possessed.”’  Id.  According to the court, “[t]his verb form did not identify who was doing the possessing and thus was broad enough to cover situations of ‘mere proximity’ to a weapon by a defendant, without a showing of ‘active possession.’”  However, “the verb form in the second, mitigating section, ‘did not possess . . . a firearm,’ is in ‘the active voice[,] requiring the defendant to do the possessing,’ or more accurately, requiring the defendant not to do the possessing.”  Id. at 1186-87.

Hopefully, these ideas will resonate with us as we do our best to avoid any express or implicit bias in our writing.  The more we choose verbs and verb construction carefully, the better chance we have of clearly conveying points for our clients in an unbiased way.

Judicial Ethics Beyond the U.S. Supreme Court

Concerns about the absence of any applicable judicial ethics standards to justices of the U.S. Supreme Court grew into loud demands for an ethics code last year. The result was the adoption of a code largely consistent with the one applicable to federal judges generally, although it contained some important exceptions and also lacked any enforcement mechanism. As a result, recusal remains an individual decision for each justice with only vague and voluntary guidance.

Even though the rules may seem more clearly defined in other courts, surprisingly, issues remain. In 2009, the U.S. Supreme Court issued a decision in Caperton v. Massey, which applied the Fourteenth Amendment’s due process clause to judicial recusal. Brent Benjamin had won election as a justice to the West Virginia Supreme Court of Appeals. Substantial independent expenditures by a party in the case likely helped Benjamin’s candidacy. He nonetheless refused to recuse and argued that the money did not come to him, did not necessarily help his campaign, and did not affect his vote in favor of his so-called benefactor. Disagreeing, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that the “risk of actual bias” was serious enough “based on objective and reasonable perceptions” that recusal was mandatory.

Although Caperton seemed to establish a standard that erred in favor of recusal, high court justices often determine for themselves whether they should be recused and adopt a personal standard. In one case I had in that same West Virginia court, I asked a justice to recuse himself after he had campaigned on a pledge to uphold the law I was challenging in remarks during his campaign to the group that had lobbied in favor it. He initially denied the motion for recusal, writing a statement about how he had First Amendment rights. Subsequent press coverage, quoting ethics experts who agreed that recusal was warranted, caused him to rethink his position and agree to recuse himself.

Today, the recusal issue is squarely presented in a case pending in the Ohio Supreme Court. Justice Joe Deters joined the Court a year ago after a career largely spent as a county prosecutor. The Court heard oral argument in State v. Glover on February 7. In a bench trial, a judge found Glover guilty of aggravated robbery and kidnapping after a crime spree in which he forced individuals at gunpoint to take him to an ATM, where he robbed them. The judge gave an aggregate sentence of 60 years for the multiple felonies with consecutive sentences. An appellate court found error in the sentence, ordering it reduced to an aggregate of 25 years. The State brought the case to the Ohio Supreme Court.

Justice Deters chose not to recuse himself, despite having served as lead counsel in the prosecution of Glover just two years ago. Ohio Rule of Judicial Conduct 2.11(a) requires a judge to “disqualify himself or herself in any proceeding in which the judge’s impartiality might reasonably be questioned.” Among the specific examples of circumstances warranting disqualification are: (1) having “personal knowledge of facts that are in dispute in the proceeding” and (2) the judge “act[ed] as a lawyer in the proceeding.”

Even though the issue is now a larger one than the underlying case and concerns the criteria applicable to sentencing when multiple crimes are committed, any decision will determine the length of Glover’s incarceration. It seems clear that Justice Deters has “personal knowledge of facts in dispute” and “act[ed] as a lawyer in the proceeding.” Moreover, the case was argued by Deters’s former co-counsel, which also requires disqualification. Given that the appearance of impropriety suffices to disqualify, the decision against recusal comprises an affront to due process. At oral argument, only Deters asked no questions. His silence, however, does not cure the problem.

As with Caperton, the potential exists for this case to land in the U.S. Supreme Court. If the Ohio Court of Appeals is reversed, particularly if Deters’s vote is decisive, Glover’s appointed counsel could raise Fourteenth Amendment due process objections. No one should miss the irony of a Court where recusal is entirely voluntary deciding when it should be mandatory for others.

Don’t Overlook Credibility as a Key Factor in Your Reply Brief

Reply briefs provide an advocate with a welcome opportunity to recapture the momentum established in the opening brief. A good opening brief makes a powerful case for your position that, standing alone, ought to spell success. Your opponent’s response brief follows by seeking to arrest the gravitational pull of your opening arguments and lead the appellate panel in a different direction. The reply, the advocates’ last word before oral argument, should attempt to regain your advantage by refuting your opponent’s counterarguments and new points, as well as providing the court with a sense that you bring greater credibility to the applicable caselaw. Credibility can make the difference. Judges will discount an otherwise compelling argument when the advocate has made statements elsewhere that are false or unsupported by cited authority, causing a jurist to doubt the presentation.

A reply brief can employ tools that may help win the gold star of credibility. One way to win the credibility battle is to highlight your opponent’s concessions, which may imply that your arguments are correct at least as far as they go. Those concessions can come in the form of factual agreements even when your opponent argues against the significance of those facts, opening the door for you to emphasize their significance in reply. Concessions can also consist of statements that agree with your identification of relevant precedent, allowing you to explain the case and its meaning for your dispute even more pointedly. 

Another form of concession occurs implicitly when the response brief omits any response to a material point you have made. That omission occurs with more frequency than you might imagine. Caselaw in nearly every jurisdiction treats that omission as either waiving the argument or, with much the same effect, a concession. A reply brief should call attention to the lack of response, which also serves to remind the panel of the key nature of the point overlooked by your opponent. Your opponent’s silence, then, becomes a powerful point in your favor.

Another tool in the credibility battle comes from showing the care you took in mustering caselaw without overstating the holdings. Your precision, in comparison to your opponents’ hyperbolic or rhetorical excesses, will work in your favor as the court reads the briefs. Your opponents’ exaggerated and emotion-laden presentation will hold less weight when contrasted with your more lawyer-like, straightforward presentation of arguments framed in terms of the record and the authority that a court should consult. For example, where your opponent calls an argument “made up” or “ridiculous” or engages in ad hominem attacks, it may behoove you to quote their overwrought response and demonstrate that their characterization or problem questions not you or your argument as much as it expresses their misunderstanding of the undisputed record or the meaning of precedent, allowing you to explain in plain yet powerful words the existing facts or applicable law.

Less overblown, but equally problematic, are distortions of your argument that the other side might attempt to show that it makes little sense. When that occurs, a reply brief should explain how the other side either purposely misrepresented or otherwise misunderstood your argument. Doing so allows you to restate the premise of your argument to assure that the court understands it as intended and that it provides no basis for the criticism your opponent mounted. And, in those instances where opponents misrepresent or misunderstand the argument, you can also demonstrate anew its validity and applicability by showing that their reading is far from what you argued or constitutes a wild and unwarranted extrapolation from it.

A final consideration in establishing your greater credibility: read the response brief from the perspective of a judge unfamiliar with the case or the relevant precedents. From that reading you will likely identify between one to three points that raise understandable doubts about your argument. Those points, then, become the questions that the judge probably will expect answered in the reply – and setting out those questions and compelling answers to them in an introduction, particularly where you can use the other credibility tools mentioned here throughout the brief, will bolster your credibility. Often, credibility serves as the key to success in an appeal.

A Fascinating Interview with the Texas Supreme Court

What would you ask if you had the opportunity to interview a state supreme court justice? Would you ask about the justice’s path to the bench? How the justice writes a good opinion? What the justice does when he disagrees with his colleagues?  How the justice works with his law clerks?  Or maybe you would ask what the hardest thing about being a justice is?

How would those questions change if you were 9?  Well, for Emily Caughey the questions wouldn’t change at all!

Last year then 9-year-old Emily came up with the idea to interview justices on the Texas Supreme Court. Her goal was to make a video that would teach kids about the judicial branch.  She drafted serious questions, like the ones listed above, but also fun, kid-friendly questions. She also enlisted the help of her then 7-year-old brother James. The result is a delightful, well-edited video that includes interviews of five Texas Supreme Court Justices.   According to her mom, Jennifer Caughey, a former Justice on Texas’s First Court of Appeals and the chair of Jackson Walker’s appellate section, Emily has “been sharing the video with schools in an effort to expose kids to the Texas Supreme Court.”  Go Emily!

The whole video is worth watching. Highlights include learning what two justices aspire to the same superpower and what two justices both wanted to be professional baseball players. I also enjoyed hearing the justices’ fun facts about the Texas Supreme Court.

Thank you Emily for spearheading such an innovative project, and thank you justices for being generous with your time.  For what it is worth my favorite ice cream flavor is Blue Bell’s Chocolate Peanut Butter Overload.

The New Rules for AI-Based Research

The Fifth Circuit has published for comment the first federal appellate rule on the use of artificial intelligence (AI) in filings. It would require that the person filing “certify that no generative artificial intelligence program was used in drafting the document presented for filing, or to the extent such a program was used, all generated text, including all citations and legal analysis, has been reviewed for accuracy and approved by a human” as part of the certificate of compliance.

A number of recent incidents have highlighted the danger of reliance on AI. As has been widely reported, two New York lawyers were sanctioned for using AI to draft a brief that contained seemingly valid citations precisely making the point they wanted to for the court, but turned out to be entirely made up. Recently, the Washington Post reported that a young, overextended Colorado attorney relied upon AI for a brief that also included fictious citations, was sanctioned by the court, and fired from his position at the law firm. In another instance described in the same article, a Los Angeles law firm was called out for a similar offense by opposing counsel and fined $999 by the court; it blamed a young lawyer who resigned from the firm after the fictious cases were discovered.

The Washington Post article quoted a Brown University computer scientist that what is “surprising is that [AI programs] ever produce anything remotely accurate.” The scientist, Suresh Venkatasubramanian, explained to the Post that these programs are designed to mimic conversation by developing seemingly realistic responses to whatever inquiry is submitted. It realizes that a legal brief includes citations to precedent, but does not read or synthesize the actual cases, so it creates its own.

The topic was part of the discussion with state chief justices at a National Center for State Courts meeting I was privileged to moderate just before Thanksgiving. As one chief justice expressed to me in private conversation afterwards, she was surprised that it happens at all because she could not imagine a lawyer filing a brief that relies on a case that had not been read by the attorney.

The Fifth Circuit’s proposed rule appears to make that the standard. Within the Fifth Circuit, a judge, Brantley Starr of the U.S. District Court for the Northern District of Texas, has already amended the rules for filings in his court, to require a certificate attesting that the filing contains nothing drafted by AI or that a human being checked any language drafted by AI for accuracy. The judge’s rule calls AI platforms “incredibly powerful” and useful for  and have many uses in the law for “form divorces, discovery requests, suggested errors in documents, anticipated questions at oral argument.” One thing he insists it is not useful for is legal briefs.

Judge Starr explains that, at least as currently devised, AI is “prone to hallucinations and bias.” To put it plainly, he says “they make stuff up—even quotes and citations.”

Judge Starr also worries about bias in the programming. He explains that “attorneys swear an oath to set aside their personal prejudices, biases, and beliefs to faithfully uphold the law and represent their clients.” Neither a computer program nor those who devised adhere to an oath. He states,”[t]hese systems hold no allegiance to any client, the rule of law, or the laws and Constitution of the United States (or, as addressed above, the truth).”

The judge is prepared to be convinced otherwise. He has put out a challenge: “Any party believing a platform has the requisite accuracy and reliability for legal briefing may move for leave and explain why.” Until that happens, the judge “will strike any filing from a party who fails to file a certificate” and is prepared to Rule 11 sanctions for an inaccurate filing.

These early rules proposals are likely to proliferate, particularly because online legal research systems, such as Westlaw, Lexis, and Casetext, now also offer AI-based research assistance that may blur the lines between lawyer and computer in ways that may not be predictable. Appellate practice is changing once again.

Legislatures, Initiatives, and the Courts

Commentators have long likened the legislative process to sausage-making, something that those with weak stomachs should not observe too closely. Nonetheless, courts have respected legislative decision-making by providing outsized deference to that body as the policymaker most likely to enact laws in accordance with popular sovereignty. When voters object to the decisions rendered, they can throw the rascals out, and different policy choices can then prevail.

Yet, legislators often seem to disapprove of voters who bypass them to enact laws or constitutional provisions by initiative – especially when it supports ends that the legislators oppose. At the moment, we see this playing out in Ohio. In light of the Dobbs decision,[1] which overturned Roe v. Wade[2] and declared that abortion was an issue that could be decided state-by-state, pro-choice voters have sought to enshrine a right to abortion in state constitutions through the initiative process in several states. To date, all have passed.

In Ohio, the legislature attempted to put up an obstacle in advance of the vote. It sought approval of its own initiative on a quicker schedule that would have increased the requirement for approval from a simple majority to 60 percent, as well as from 44 to 88 the number of counties represented in signatures to qualify for the ballot. That initiative failed. Then the secretary of state proposed language, approved by the state ballot board, designed to make the proposed amendment less desirable.

Nonetheless, the amendment was approved by voters earlier this month. Immediately after the election, Ohio House Speaker Jason Stephens claimed that “multiple paths” exist to prohibit abortion despite the constitutional amendment.”

Most troubling for those who believe in the rule of law and judicial independence is the proposal some Ohio lawmakers have advanced to strip the courts of the authority to review cases that would implement the newly passed constitutional amendment. They released a statement justifying this extreme measure by asserting, without demonstrating any basis for the claim, that “foreign election interference” tainted the vote. The election denialism that infected the last presidential election apparently provides fodder for undermining the courts.

Those courts are currently reviewing a constitutional challenge to a 2019-enacted six-week abortion ban that contains no exceptions for rape or incest. The constitutional amendment would appear to make invalidation of the ban a simple and straightforward inevitability. A jurisdiction-stripping bill, if valid, would prevent that possibility.

At stake is not only the status of abortion, but the authority of our courts – and the place of popular sovereignty in our representative democracy. Certainly, there are arguments against amending laws and constitutions through the initiative process. It can be overused, trivialize the law with popular but ill-considered or poorly drafted mandates, and has spawned an industry that raises and profits from the process. The same, however, can be said of the legislative process itself. While in place, the initiative, a product of progressives a century ago, still provides the rules that we are obliged to follow.

Ohio and the abortion issue is not the only time that legislatures have rebelled against voter initiatives. In 2018, Floridians approved an initiative to restore voting rights to people convicted of felonies and who had completed their sentences, excluding murderers and sex offenders. Months later, the legislature enacted a law that defined completion of a sentence as having repaid in full all fines and fees, even though that often could not be determined. The Florida Supreme Court, in response to a request of the governor while a constitutional challenge was working its way through the courts, read the new law as consistent with the amendment passed by initiative. Whatever one thinks of that conclusion, it conformed to a process that allowed the courts to determine the law.

My favorite example of a voter initiative and a legislature at loggerheads occurred in Massachusetts. In 1988, voters approved the Massachusetts Clean Elections Law, which created a system of public campaign funding for candidates who limited the private financing they accepted. The Massachusetts initiative provision required the legislature to fund it, but no appropriation was ever made. Plainly, legislators were not anxious to fund their challengers. Supporters of the initiative, including a candidate for governor, brought a lawsuit in 2001 to obtain the missing funding or void any election without public funding.

The Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court held that the initiative, unless repealed, required the legislature to a money judgment in the amount that would provide the public campaign funding promised by the law, while the court would retain jurisdiction with a single justice assigned to assure that other eligible candidates also receive the money.[3] When the legislature dragged its feet in providing the funding, that justice threatened to execute on the Commonwealth’s property to assure that the funding would be forthcoming. The threat proved sufficient, although the legislature exercised its right to repeal the Clean Elections Law a year later.

Ohio’s legislature cannot repeal a constitutional amendment on its own. It could argue that the amendment should not be interpreted to invalidate its 2019 statute. What it should not do, if the rule of law is to prevail, is block the courts from construing the state constitution and measuring legislative acts against its restrictions.

 

[1] Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Org., 142 S. Ct. 2228 (2022).

[2] Roe v. Wade, 410 U.S. 113 (1973).

[3] Bates v. Dir. of Off. of Campaign & Pol. Fin., 763 N.E.2d 6 (2002).

On Citing Law Reviews

With forty-five years of legal practice under my belt, I paused for a moment as I was working on a new brief to think about the enterprise that has been my career. My new brief covers an issue I had never encountered before in an area of law that was new to me. I certainly enjoyed getting to know the law in this area, hoping that my understanding is solid and not a misreading of the cases and historical background. And it is the opportunity to discover new things and apply my perspective to it that keeps me going.

As with any brief, this one is being written with an eye to its audience. In this case, that means the justices of the Supreme Court. I know that what may play well with one justice may be off-putting to another. Thinking about that, I recalled remarks that Justice Ginsburg once gave at the University of South Carolina.

 She advised that a “brief skips long quotations, but doesn't unfairly crop the occasional quotations used to highlight key points.”[1] Every judge I know agrees with that statement. However, she made another that day, which may not be universally shared. She said, a “good brief does not shy away from citing law review commentaries or other scholarly analyses that may aid the court as much as they did the brief writer to get an overview of the area.”[2] As a former law professor, she had a natural interest in scholarly work.

However, an interest in law reviews is not universally shared by judges. Chief Justice Roberts once said that “as a general matter, law reviews are not―particularly helpful for practitioners and judges.[3] Roberts later made a similar point when he challenged judges in the Fourth Circuit to pick up a law review, where they are likely to see that the first article is likely to be an esoteric article “of great interest to the academic that wrote it, but isn’t of much help to the bar.[4]

A 2012 study of the frequency with which justices cited law review articles concluded that citations had fallen off from earlier eras and that 40 percent of the articles cited were written by people who were not full-time academics.[5]

Certainly, all articles are not of equal value. Some cover the history with precision and diligence that will help where that is at issue. Others conduct a survey of the law of various states that also provides useful fodder for a brief. However, where the law review article is more philosophical or theoretical, it may have limited value. Those quick thoughts suggest that law reviews are most helpful when they provide practical information that supports the argument you are making. When the article provides that type of information, the judge need not sit on the Supreme Court to approve of its use in a brief. Keep that in mind when the issue requires more than an analysis of a law, rule, or trial record.

 

[1] Hon. Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Remarks on Appellate Advocacy, 50 S. C. L. Rev. 567, 568 (1999).

[2] Id.

[3] Quoted in Brent E. Newton, Law Review Scholarship in the Eyes of the Twenty-First-Century Supreme Court Justices: An Empirical Analysis, 4 Drexel L. Rev. 399, 399 (2012).

[4] Id. at 399 n.1.

[5] Id. at 416.

Impeachment Fever and the Judiciary

Every appellate advocate wants an impartial and independent judiciary, not a bench populated by people who would trim their sails to whatever political winds put them in their seat or is blowing so hard that the easier course is to let it dictate a result. Instead, we ask for a fair application of the law.

It may seem obvious that our justice system should operate that way, but political partisans often seek to bend the courts to their favor, whether through the appointment process or through elections. Even so, we hope that on the bench our judges will seek to make decisions rooted in law rather than political preference. Not everyone agrees, however.

In 2006, one stripe of political partisans operating under the banner of the South Dakota Judicial Accountability Project sought approval of a constitutional amendment that became known as “Jail for Judges.” The proposed amendment, which was defeated at the ballot box, would have allowed thirteen special grand jurors to decide that a judge’s ruling was wrong and either fine or jail the judge, as well as strip away as much as one-half of earned retirement benefits. Judicial rulings made years ago would have been subject to this process, as long as the jurist was still alive.

As extreme as that measure was, we are seeing a spate of new challenges to our courts that seek to guarantee certain results and threaten judicial independence. One that has received a great deal of attention is the threat of impeachment aimed at a newly installed Wisconsin Supreme Court justice. It has a transparently political purpose: keeping the Court’s new majority from upsetting the legislature’s redistricting handiwork. The basis for impeachment is incredibly weak. During her campaign, now-Justice Jane Protasiewicz called the gerrymandered districts “unfair” and “rigged,” while still avoiding any promise that she would rule one way or another. Republican Assembly Speaker Robin Vos accused her of “prejudging” the challenge to those districts, now before the Court, and has suggested the impeachment was a proper response if she chooses not to recuse herself.

Of course, this is not the first time an elected judge spoke to issues coming before a court. In one instance, the Washington Supreme Court considered whether one of their newly elected members was subject to discipline for his participation in an anti-abortion rally on the day of his swearing-in ceremony. At the “March for Life” rally, Sanders thanked the crowd for supporting his election and expressed “his belief in the preservation and protection of innocent human life.”[1] A judicial conduct commission found probable cause that Sanders violated several different canons of judicial conduct, but the state supreme court found that he acted within his free speech rights and his comments and actions did “not lead to a clear conclusion that he was, as a result, not impartial on the issue as it might present itself to him in his role as a judge.”[2]

In another case that reached the U.S. Supreme Court, Republican Party v. White,[3] the Republican Party and several candidates for judicial office successfully challenged a canon of judicial conduct that prohibited candidates for judicial office in Minnesota from announcing their views on disputed legal and political issues on First Amendment grounds. Justice Scalia’s opinion for the Court distinguished between “pledges or promises,” a prohibition that was not before the Court, and merely announcing ones views, which the Court said does not bind a candidate once elected.[4]

The opinion found it incongruous to permit candidates to express support for a prior judicial decision, but not criticism of it. It further noted that the prohibition related to taking positions on issues, but not expressing oneself for or against particular lawsuit parties. Thus, rather than be aimed at impartiality, which was its putative purpose, the Court found the prohibition was against expressing a view of the law upon which voters might choose to vote. As Justice O’Connor expressed in a concurrence, as long as you have judicial elections, something she disfavored, candidates, including incumbents, are going to express views on issues before the public, and that doing so was necessary to maintain public confidence in the courts.[5]

These cases suggest that the principal basis for impeachment in Wisconsin is inconsistent with established First Amendment principles. Garnering less attention, but no less problematic, is the tactic being employed in North Carolina. Justice Anita Earls, a black jurist on the state supreme court, gave an interview in which she advocated for greater diversity in the state court system, labeled the frequent interruptions of female advocates before the court an example of implicit bias, and bemoaned the termination of racial equity and implicit bias training in the judiciary. She relied on a recent study for her comments and said that diverse decision-making results in better outcomes, assures that a range of perspectives are considered, and secures greater public support because people are confident that more voices are heard.

For those remarks, the North Carolina Judicial Standards Commission began an investigation in August based on reading those remarks as accusing her judicial colleagues of “racial, gender and/or political bias.” The Commission suggested that the remarks “potentially violate[] Canon 2A of the Code of Judicial Conduct which requires a judge to conduct herself ‘at all times in a manner which promotes public confidence in the integrity and impartiality of the judiciary.’” Earls, who believes she was supporting public confidence in the judiciary, filed a federal lawsuit to enjoin the Commission from proceeding, citing First Amendment grounds and intimating that the Commission’s investigation could be used by the legislature to remove her from the bench.[6]

Early in our history, these types of attacks on judges when the political powers that be disagreed with rulings had a brief lifespan. The party of Thomas Jefferson, in control of the presidency and the Congress, was frustrated by the Federalist judicial appointees and their rulings. They tested the impeachment powers first against a New Hampshire district court judge, John Pickering, who was removed from office in 1804 upon apparently deserved accusations of habitual intoxication and insanity. Then Congress went after Justice Samuel Chase in what was generally regarded as a dry run at Chief Justice Marshall. Chase had placed himself in the sights of the new Democratic-Republican majority through partisan rants contained in his jury charges, as well as his handling of cases under the Alien and Sedition Acts. Despite holding a sufficient majority to convict in the Senate, enough party members balked at the process so that conviction fell four votes short, effectively ending the effort aimed Marshall and understood as a commitment to judicial independence that seemed strong until more recently.

As advocates, we need to recommit to first principles and denounce these new efforts to turn the judicial branch into a political football that can be manipulated to achieve what proper legal arguments cannot. While the judiciary is not immune from the ebb and flow of political opinion, it should not be reshaped by political threats based on the expression of views.

 

[1] Matter of Disciplinary Proceeding Against Sanders, 135 Wash. 2d 175, 178, 955 P.2d 369, 370 (1998).

[2] Id. at 768, 955 P.2d at 370.

[3] Republican Party of Minnesota v. White, 536 U.S. 765, 768 (2002).

[4] Id. at 770.

[5] Id. at 788–89 (O’Connor, J., concurring).

[6] Earls v. N.C. Jud. Stds. Comm’n, et al., Complaint, Case No. 1:23-cv-00734 (N.C. M.D., filed Aug. 29, 2023).

Appellate Advocacy Blog Weekly Roundup Friday, September 15, 2023

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 [email protected] or on Twitter @Daniel_L_Real or (2) Catharine Du Bois at [email protected] or on Twitter @CLDLegalWriting.

US Supreme Court Opinions and News

Alabama will again appeal to the Supreme Court asking it to affirm their congressional redistricting map after its recently redrafted map was recently rejected a time because the map failed to comply with previous rulings. This June, the Supreme Court upheld a lower court's decision that rejected Alabama’s congressional redistricting map because it violated the Voting Rights Act by diluting the power of Black voters. (See coverage by Associated Press and NPR.) The map denied Black voters the reasonable chance to elect a second representative of their choice by packing a majority of Black voters into a single district and placing remaining Black voters in the six other districts. The lower court held that the legislature should redraw the map to include at least two districts where Black voters have a realistic opportunity to elect their preferred candidate. The legislature redrew the map, which also included only one district that is majority-Black voters, and the map was again rejected. (See Associated Press coverage). This time the court appointed a special master to redraw the Alabama map, taking the power away from the legislature. See complete coverage from NPR, The New York Times, and The Wall Street Journal.

Appellate Court Opinions and News

The Fifth Circuit upheld a lower court’s decision finding that the CDC violated the First Amendment when it threatened social media platforms to coerce the platforms to remove content. However, the court reversed the holding that blocked the administration’s contacting the platforms to urge them to remove content. The court held that encouragement, as opposed coercion, does not always cross the constitutional line.  See the ruling and coverage by The Associated Press and The Washington Post.

State Court Opinions and News

A California state appeals court upheld a restriction on carrying guns in public that was similar to the New York restriction struck by the Supreme Court last term. The court held that the California law differs from the New York law in a way that makes it meet constitutional muster. Both laws require the gun owner to show good cause, which was the provision that the Supreme Court declared unconstitutional. The California law, however, also includes a provision that requires the owner to be of “good moral character.”  The court determined that “prohibitions on concealed firearms have historically been permitted by the Second Amendment” and that are still allowed if they comply with limits imposed by the Supreme Court.  See the ruling.

Of General Interest

The Federal Judicial Center shared the third edition of “A Primer on the Jurisdiction of the U.S. Courts of Appeals” by Thomas E. Baker. The primer’s purpose is described, in part, as “a brief introduction to the complexity and nuance in the subject-matter jurisdiction of the U.S. courts of appeals.”

Hoisted on Their Own Petard: The Appellate Motion to Strike

The general rule in appellate courts throughout the country is that a reply brief is limited to raising matters preserved in the trial court, issues argued in the opening brief, or arguments made in the response brief. The rationale for this very sensible rule is that making a new argument in a reply brief unfairly deprives the appellee of an opportunity to respond. At least in some jurisdictions, the proper response to a reply brief raising new arguments is a motion to strike.

But should you make the motion? That depends on whether you really believe it will help you. Recently, I responded to a motion to strike portions of my reply brief. I suspect that my opponent regrets making the motion. The court has told us it will address it at the same time as the merits, and presumably during the upcoming oral argument.

In this case, I was hired only at the reply brief stage to take over an appeal, so I did not write the opening brief. The issue is whether trial counsel had breached the state equivalent of Model Rule of Professional Conduct 4.2, sometimes referred to as the no-contact rule. The rule prevents undue influence or strategic advantage by preventing one party’s lawyer from contacting a represented party’s lawyer without that lawyer’s consent. In other words, communications with another party must be through that party’s counsel.

In the trial court, defense counsel for a product manufacturer accused plaintiff’s counsel of violating the rule by speaking to an independent authorized service center (ASC) for the product, as well as for the products of other manufacturers. In the complaint, the plaintiff had referred to the ASC as an agent for the manufacturer. However, when he sought discovery in prior litigation for a different plaintiff, the manufacturer (and the same defense counsel) denied that an ASC was an agent, asserted that the ASC was an independent company, and said that any information counsel wanted should be obtained directly from the ASC. However, because plaintiff’s counsel went directly to the ASC in this subsequent case after describing it as an agent, the manufacturer asked for sanctions under Rule 4.2. Counsel did not claim he represented the ASC. Instead, counsel argued that because the plaintiff’s lawyer had “thought” the non-party ASC was an agent, he should have sought permission to contact the ASC – even though defense counsel was in no position to grant or deny permission.

The trial judge bought the argument and disqualified plaintiff’s counsel. The opening brief on the appeal of that disqualification explained the facts, the rule, and what it would take to treat an “agent” as fitting within the rule. The response brief reiterated the trial court opinion, focusing on how the definition of “person” in the rule included “agents.” My reply brief opened with the fact that the briefing to date established that the ASC was not a represented person so that Rule 4.2 did not apply and that by itself was dispositive. It explained the underlying purpose of the rule and how that was completely tied to being a “represented person.”

The motion to strike soon followed, asking the court to strike every portion of my brief that made the represented-person argument, explaining that it was a new argument made by new counsel. In a footnote, added under an abundance of caution, the response brief provided a substantive response to the argument. My reply to the motion pointed out that the issue was not at all new. The trial court transcript included an argument about the rule only applying to a represented person. The opening brief quoted the rule and made arguments about the meaning of agent that assumed the rule applied only to represented persons. And the defendant’s brief also opened the door to the argument by focusing on the meaning of “person” without including the very necessary word “represented” that came before “person” and limited the latter word’s scope. Each of these facts independently supported the propriety of making the argument in the reply brief. I also pointed out how incongruous it would be to suddenly apply a rule that is explicit in its scope to situations that are plainly outside it and that the consequences of such a ruling would change the dynamics of litigation in ways that could not be justified by forcing counsel to forego contact with independent non-parties to prepare a case absent permission of opposing counsel who did not represent that party.

The battle over the motion to strike, though still undecided, had the effect of further highlighting my argument about the necessity of representation, while its substantive response, albeit in a footnote, telegraphed to me the other side’s likely position on why representation is unnecessary when the issue is joined at oral argument. Strategically, it makes little sense to highlight an opponent’s strongest point, which is what this motion did. It seems unlikely that the motion could succeed when it asks a court to read out of the applicable statute (or rule) a textual qualification to the part of the law that a party relies upon.

If I am correct in believing that the word “represented” is dispositive of the appeal, the motion to strike provided me with an opportunity to fine-tune the argument by resort to the record and what the trial court ignored, as well as to tie it even more closely to my opponent’s argument. I doubt that the motion provided a benefit to the other side. Instead, I suggest that this was one of those instances where counsel would have been better off foregoing the motion to strike.

Political Debates and Oral Advocacy: Differences and Similarities

Watching the past week’s Republican presidential candidate debate and its subsequent press coverage caused me to reflect on the differences between that type of political debate and appellate oral argument. Some of the differences are obvious.

In political debate, candidates are free to ignore the question posed to them and discuss something entirely different, make baseless claims without fear that it will adversely affect the decision they seek, and treat the time limits as advisory. They may also get an off-the-wall question, like when former New Jersey Governor Chris Christie fielded a question on alien life and UFOs.

Now, imagine the appellate advocate doing the same things or facing a similar set of questions. It is hard to do. Judges are usually well informed about an advocate’s position. They have read the briefs, reviewed underlying authorities, and expect answers to their questions. Because advocates are hoping to win over the judges themselves, rather than an unseen audience of the public, they must be both more respectful of their inquisitors and more concerned that their answer provides the grist that the judge seeks. They must also be highly accurate, both about the record and about the precedents they cite. Credibility is the coin of the realm for an advocate, and real-time correction of a false assertion can occur. In one of my arguments, my opponent made the same claim orally as he did in his opening brief about the record, which I had rebutted in my response. The judges were all over him as soon as the error was uttered. By the time he was able to return to his argument, the judges appeared unwilling to listen to his additional points.

Also, unlike in politics where differentiating yourself from your co-debaters may encourage it, oral advocates cannot engage in theatrical stunts. It will not play to the decision-makers that matter in a court of law.

On the other hand, there are similarities in some aspects of effective political debate and oral advocacy. Telling a succinct story can be tremendously effective in both forums. That is why politicians will often turn their biography into a compelling narrative. It memorably makes a connection with their audience that is essential. Advocates also find storytelling an important skill. Whether it is fashioning the record into a powerfully sympathetic description of what is at issue or presenting precedents so that they inexorably lead to the preferred result, advocates seek to tell a story that strikes a responsive chord in their panels.

Both debaters and advocates must be skilled in transitioning from questions to other important points. A minor issue on the debate stage should not take up important time, so a skilled politician must be capable of answering succinctly and use the remaining time to raise a more important point that might otherwise go undiscussed. Similarly, an advocate who can dispose of a simple question quickly can return to the one or two points that may be more critical to discuss.

Candidates and advocates both also seek to show why their opponent is wrong. It can be that the policy/result their opponent seeks makes little sense, conflicts with successful positions/prior precedent that experience supports, or fails to address the real underlying issue. And, it helps in both forums to have a winning personality and pleasant demeanor. Just as a politician who comes off as dour wins few votes, an advocate who treats every question with hostility rarely comes off well. Unpleasantness, though, may not lose a case, even if it could lose a political vote. When I worked at a court, I recall hearing one judge comment after an oral argument where the advocate “admonished” the judges that the lawyer had hurt herself. In the end, that advocate won a unanimous decision. I never understood how she hurt herself. Perhaps the decision was written more narrowly than the judges were otherwise inclined to do.

Yet, despite these similarities and skills that can prove effective in both forums, appellate advocacy is a less wide-open and emotional endeavor than political debate. And the best oral advocates understand that.

Appellate Advocacy Blog Weekly Roundup Friday, July 21, 2023

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 [email protected] or on Twitter @Daniel_L_Real or (2) Catharine Du Bois at [email protected] or on Twitter @CLDLegalWriting.

US Supreme Court Opinions and News

• The Supreme Court has finished releasing opinions for the 2022-23 term and, as usual, there are a number of Supreme Court term wrap-ups and commentaries on the term: The Heritage Foundation's Scholars and Scribes Review the Rulings, Adam Feldman’s Empirical SCOTUS, USAToday, NPR, and BloombergLaw.

• And looking forward, the Court released the October 2023 oral argument calendar. Here are a couple of places to find the cases (and some commentary) on the docket for 2023-24:  Oyez.org, SCOTUSBlog, and BloombergLaw.

State Court Opinions and News

• The California Supreme Court rejected a 2022 Supreme Court ruling on a California Labor law. The Private Attorneys General Act (PAGA) allows employees to sue employers, individually or collectively, in the name of the state. The Supreme Court held that PAGA violated the rights of businesses where the contract requires workers to submit to individual arbitration rather than filing suit. The California Supreme Court rejected that interpretation, stating “the highest court of each State … remains the final arbiter of what is state law.” The California Supreme Court ruled that, even though the Act may require workers to arbitrate their own claims, PAGA also allows workers to join co-workers to sue on behalf of the state. See ruling and a report from the San Francisco  Chronicle.

• The Illinois Supreme Court upheld a law that eliminated cash bail, allowing a new system to begin. Illinois will become the first state in the U.S. to end cash bail for criminal defendants awaiting trial. Governor Pritzker supports the new law and the decision, saying ““We can now move forward with historic reform to ensure pretrial detainment is determined by the danger an individual poses to the community instead of by their ability to pay their way out of jail.” The challenge to the law argued that the changes were unconstitutional. But the Illinois Supreme Court ruled that “The Illinois Constitution of 1970 does not mandate that monetary bail is the only means to ensure criminal defendants appear for trials or the only means to protect the public. Our constitution creates a balance between the individual rights of defendants and the individual rights of crime victims.” See the order and reports from The Chicago Tribune, The New York Times, and The Wall Street Journal.