Fair Roaming

Ownership is a sometimes-useful, imaginary concept. When it is used well, it's a practical way to describe and reason together about particular social situations, but, when not seen for what it is, the self-consciously imaginary becomes unselfconscious, collective hallucination. Copyright, in particular, has been so warped by forever-extension, that it might as well be land. And land might as well be soulbound. Even pop culture fans refer to their favorite stories as "brands" and "franchises." We've become habituated to the idea that everything, whether in the form of ideas or spaces, is owned by someone.

And so I guess it was predictable when the sudden and difficult question of how to incorporate generative AI into our lives arose, so many of us looked for what was owned. Without getting into it deeply: the applications built from transformers at large scale are amazing. I get that immediately relegating feats like blowing past the Turing Test (yes, I know the caveats) to the realm of the normal is maybe human nature these days. Maybe it's uncool not to respond with the "all it's doing is x" response of what looks like a learned and sophisticated insider. (Most such observations treat as fact what is mere, and to me doubtful, hypothesis.) But I won't succumb to the temptation to cultivate an air of sophistication in this way. No, we have a technology that already does seemingly magical things, things I'd have assumed would not be possible for the rest of my career or even life. And we don't yet know what returns to increased scale are possible or what new behaviors architectural changes may unlock, but we do know that the human brain does whatever it does on about 20 watts.

In the teeth of existential threats to some human occupations — no one, not even highly paid consultants, tech pundits, or valley tycoons, knows the extent of these threats on a medium or longer timescale — it has been a poorly-fitting appeal to ownership of training data, not human values or social welfare that has predominated the defense of human work. But the use of publicly available but copyrighted materials as training data ought obviously to be deemed fair use. Here's what would obviously be true of a small model that did not do the amazing things that are now scaring people: It's not any more of an infringement to feed some text into such a model than to feed it into your own brain. The best defense I've seen of the copyright infringement argument against training large models with publicly availble content is that what would be a fair use can cease to be one when the use occurs at a scale and in a social context that harms the copyrght holder, or at least in a way that soemhow seems unfair. But this all-things-considered balancing only points to the limits of the copyright-and-fair-use conceptual apparatus for discussing how these machines ought to be used. It is discourse within the ownership hallucination.

Our reflex to grasp at ownership of culture in order to eke out a place among the machines is a sign of an atrophied capacity for collective thought. We don't fight for the alleviation or avoidance of human suffering by stunting the development of machines through legal artifice. For one, it's not even possible to do so in the long run given that our law won't control every actor everywhere. The tech here isn't like building a nuclear weapon, and it will not take nation-state level resources to build and deploy it. But more importantly, it misdirects the conversation from collective, human values. And that's what worries me. We have in recent decades arrived at a law so overtaken with the rhetoric and conceptual tools tuned to the instincts and material desires of owners and bosses (but justified in the naturalizing rhetoric of equality and automony) that our response to an astounding technological advance, one as scary as it is magical, is to fight by pointing out what we "own." We're so accustomed to these misbegotten legal habits that even those who suffer from over-ownership decry the immorality of using "their" publicly availble texts to train a model. Immorality!

I'm fine using the word "ownership," understand its utility, even believe in its essential purposes in our law and society. But what do we really own. Nothing. All we have is ourselves, others, and the distinctive human experience of self and other together. If we do use the word, it should be in service of our collective conversation.

All Human Beings

One of the gravest mistakes I have found myself making is falling lazily into the belief that I am a good and well-meaning person. I try to be, of course. But one of the great gifts in my life over the last few years has been a recognition of the central importance of practice in becoming kinder and happier. It is not enough to recognize right and wrong or even to desire to do well for others – or even to do so regularly. Our default homeostatic existence is often at war with what we would do and be for ourselves and others if only we could see this life for what it is. For me, becoming truly more honest, generous, and compassionate requires a continual recognition that the mental models that are essential to making sense of my world and of getting on in conventional life can also be prisons, that actively working on my brain is necessary to grasp this fact at the level required to make a difference.

Your path and practice may differ from mine. Perhaps you have not been as often deluded or as often gripped by aversion or miswanting as I have been. But I was struck by the raw power of practice in my own life this morning while watching a video accompanying new music by Max Richter. I hesitate to refer people to books or talks that have been helpful to me in my practice, because the efficacy and depth of these things is so much a function of the intention of the listener. What may seem corny or cliche to the skeptical can work fundamental change in one who encounters it in the right way, at the right time.

So, with that proviso, try watching this video and saying aloud to each face that appears, without artifice or skepticism but with full belief – "My brother. My mother. My sister. My child." – as the person in front of you would be if you allowed it be so. I used to think making the world a more humane and peaceful place could not depend on individual moral transformation, as expecting that on a large enough scale was naive. Now, I believe, as strongly as I have ever believed in anything, that it is naive to think we can survive and thrive without it.

The Gun Subsidy

I have been working with a student co-author on an article that formalizes and improves upon a proposal I have made in the past to begin to solve our gun violence crisis. We have a ways to go. But the essence of this proposal is what we frame as "the gun subsidy." Its twin functions are (a) to make explicit what is now implicit: that the costs of gun production are subsidized by victims of gun violence and (b) to shift a very small portion of those costs to gun manufacturers (moderately reducing their subsidy) in order to achieve a more sane political economy on this issue. We want those who know guns best to use that knowledge to help solve the problem.

I include below a portion covering the major points of the proposal. Some details may change, and I do not include what we have been working on with respect to implementation.


The Gun Subsidy

Guns are used to kill about 40,000 Americans each year. They are instruments of suicide, of domestic and workplace rage, of robbery, and of spectacular acts of domestic terrorism. This American carnage, as the president put it on the occasion of his inauguration, can indeed stop. While it is unrealistic, in a country of over 300 million people, to believe we can eliminate all interpersonal violence, it is equally absurd to insist that mass shootings and thousands of gun suicides are as inseparable from our landscape as oxygen.

The gun violence problem is not one of human nature but of social organization. The minds and experience that could best be directed to reducing gun deaths are instead consumed with fending off any and all gun regulation. This dynamic has caused extensive damage not only to victims of violence but also to our body politic. Indeed, the gun debate has become so caricatured and at the same time so stagnant that it has fostered in too many the insidious belief that our greatest problems are beyond our ability even to address. From it has grown a cynicism that politics cannot ever be responsive to social problems. The gun debate is a cancer that has spread to other vital issues. The critical step toward progress is promoting a shared store of facts and a shared effort to minimizing social harm.

We propose a first step that centers directly on the political problem. It is not a list of guns to ban or background checks to be performed. Before all else, we must begin rowing in the same direction, and there is a way to accomplish this critical first step: liability. We do not mean liberalizing ordinary private liability, with the attendant lawsuits, discovery, and punitive damage awards. Rather, we propose an unambiguously required and automatic payment by a gun manufacturer to a special fund after one of its guns causes a death. In particular, subject to some details discussed infra, for each person killed by a gun, the gun’s manufacturer would pay $6 million to a federal fund administered by the Centers for Disease Control.

Calling for liability rules in response to social harms may hardly seem novel or sufficient. This reform, though, would not be the end of our effort to stem gun violence, but a necessary beginning that would unlock further rational policymaking. If a substantial portion of the costs of gun violence fell on gun manufacturers, two things would follow. First, and more conventionally, manufacturers’ cost-benefit calculations would drive them to manufacture guns less likely to cause deaths that would lead to payment obligations. But we do not advance this proposal as a means to achieve some sort of law and economics ideal of an “efficient” amount of violence. Rather, the second and more important effect would be a political economic one, turning gun manufacturers from the fiercest opponents into advocates for effective regulations concerning background checks, gun attachments and ammunition, retail sales, and other potentially violence-reducing targets.

There is a bit more to our proposal than this, though. Billing the gun industry for even a modest portion of the social harms it creates would almost surely bankrupt it entirely. A Pigouvian tax would be, as things now stand, a death sentence. Even with the discounting we will propose, the total liability at current levels of gun violence would amount to well over $120 billion on an industry whose domestic private sales revenues are probably less than $20 billion. It is doubtful gun manufacturers could raise prices and alter designs and sales to achieve a reduction in liability sufficient to survive in the short term.

The obvious and normal response to this concern is that imposing liability only reveals a basic economic truth that has existed all along. The industry is not worth its costs. If its customers would refuse to pay prices sufficient to cover all the costs of manufacture, including the cost of violent deaths, then the market in its aggregate voice is telling us not to manufacture guns. One of us favors listening to this voice, but we live in a country in which many do not and in which they cite a Second Amendment they strongly believe requires private gun availability in fact and not only in theory.

This, then, is the second part of our proposal: a Gun Subsidy. From the base, per-death liability payment following a gun death, the CDC would discount at a rate calculated at regular intervals to permit the continuing manufacture of weapons adequate for self-defense within the meaning of Heller v. District of Columbia, while continuing to apply adequate pressure on manufacturers to reduce gun mortality. The amount of the subsidy should represent that portion of our collective valuation of the availability of the Heller right that is not reflected in individual acquisitive preferences.

The combined effect of these provisions, manufacturers’ strict liability to a fund and the Gun Subsidy, is to make at least somewhat explicit what is now entirely implicit and, in fact, invisible in its budgetary implications. Guns cause pain and death even as they bring pleasure to those who enjoy them. We now count that pain and death as no cost at all when collectively deciding through the market how many and what kinds of guns to manufacture and to whom to distribute them. Just as a particular gun cannot be made without acquiring and charging for metal and labor, so too its manufacture and sale cannot be severed from the deaths it will cause or from the collective enjoyment of the constitutional right its availability has been deemed to protect. And yet neither of these latter two values is priced, considered, or widely known.

In the first Part, we describe the mechanics of fund liability. In the second, we summarize its main justifications, averting to standard tort theory (and the additional benefits of this proposal over private tort suits) and to liability’s political economy consequences. In the third Part, we discuss some implementation details. And in the fourth, we argue that the fund would not violate the Second Amendment, as it was understood in Heller, or other constitutional provisions

The Proposal

Guns are the means by which almost 40,000 Americans die each year. 40,000 is a useful number as a yardstick of risk in the United States. It’s roughly the number of people who die annually in car accidents. It’s a little less than the number of people who died from opioid overdoses in 2016. It is about the number of suicides. It’s a little more than the total of all pre- and post-natal infant deaths. It’s roughly a quarter of all deaths from all accidents. And it’s between one and two percent of all deaths. These figures are approximate, but 40,000 deaths seems to mark the cost of one social problem after another.

It seems an understatement to note that Americans have widely varying intuitions about the costs and benefits of gun ownership. The best evidence is that keeping guns is, all things considered, somewhat risky. That said, we all do lots of risky things, and if the worst risks guns imposed was a heightened risk of suicide and accidental death, then maybe gun ownership would fall in the same category as smoking or motorcycle riding: things most people believe adults should be able to do if their eyes are open to the dangers.

But guns impose enormous costs that are not born entirely by gun owners and not at all by gun manufacturers. These costs are measured in medical bills, death, and grief. The one thing everyone can agree on is that this level of suffering is horrible and that it would be good to eliminate it.

What we tend not to agree on is how to measure the benefits of gun ownership. One of us would, if he had no humility about the importance others might attach to guns, would ban them entirely and even confiscate the existing stock without compensation. He believes guns are not even close to being worth their cost, that they make safety-obsessed owners much less safe, and that the fantasies they engender of fending off either bad guys or (even more ludicrously) a tyrannical government are unhealthy. But he does understand that have important and unknown-to-him meanings for others and that more careful analysis of the “how maintained” and “what kinds of guns” questions could, possibly, point toward an acceptable regime of private gun ownership.

It is precisely in such a circumstance–large but uncontroversial costs offset by controversial and pluralistically understood benefits–that a tax of some form can decentralize the production and distribution questions in a manner less injurious to the public good. Asymmetrical uncertainty is not an obstacle to good public policy. We need not know “the one right solution” to optimal gun production and distribution to make a boring suggestion that will help us all: If gun manufacturers had to pay the costs of gun deaths, then many good things would begin to happen.

Our proposal:

  1. Automatic Liability to the Gun Safety Fund: Gun manufacturers are required to pay $6 million for a death caused by a firearm they manufacture. The manufacturer would be liable not to a private party but to a federal fund, which could be called the Gun Safety Fund and be administered by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Liability would be automatic and avoided only when the death is the result of a legitimate use of force by a law enforcement officer or an exercise of justifiable self-defense. Such defenses to payment could be raised in an administrative hearing before the CDC (and appealed from there as any other administrative adjudication). There would be no private plaintiffs’ attorneys, no fights over punitive or compensatory damages, comparative negligence, discovery, or any of the usual but often necessary sources of inefficiency in litigation. The form of liability would be closer to a death tax than a tort judgment.

  2. The Gun Subsidy: The CDC will be charged initially with determining an amount that will be refunded to the manufacturer following payment to the fund that is necessary to preserve the practical availability of guns to be kept for purposes identified in Heller as protected by the Second Amendment, erring on the side of over-subsidizing. Every two years, the amount of the subsidy paid as a refund will be reduced by 2%, unless the CDC determines there is a reasonable likelihood that production would fall below the Heller baseline described above. The upshot is that after a century the subsidy would be a little more than 1/3 of its initial amount. The CDC will annually publish and publicize statistics gathered on gun violence and highlight the amount of the year’s Gun Subsidy.

The details, of course, matter. For example, we would make the findings of responsible medical examiners concerning which gun caused a death (and whether it did) conclusive for these purposes, and it would be a federal offense for any agent of a firearms manufacturer to attempt to influence such an examiner. We would also discount the payment owed for gun suicides, not because such lives are less valuable but to require payment only for the excess number of successful suicides caused by guns. That is, the payment would reflect the number of suicides over and above what that number would have been if only alternative methods of suicide were available. We would also require a quadrennial determination by the CDC of this figure through the normal informal rulemaking process. These and other details are covered more fully in Part II.

Fund liability is not intended to be a perfect Pigouvian tax. At each point, we have chosen to calculate the liability using lower bounds. The total amount of the payments we propose would be dramatically less, in aggregate, than the cost of actual harms flowing from the use of guns. For one, it would only require payment for deaths and not for injuries, which number more than twice the number of deaths. And $6 million is less than what most agencies identify as the monetary value of a human life for cost-benefit analysis purposes. But perfect internalization of externalities, a theoretically dubious proposition for reasons well-trodden by Ronald Coase, is not the point. Any significant tax on manufacturers that scales with death will lead manufacturers to take some steps to reduce the tax, both manufacturing and political. It is the direction of social effort that concerns us most, not accounting.

Even this heavily discounted cost internalization, however, is likely too large for the gun industry to absorb. Gun manufacturers’ total revenues from private sales in the United States are probably around $15 billion and almost surely less than $20 billion, with profits of just a billion or two. Even if we assume a total discounting of suicide deaths and that payments would be owed for only half of other deaths, say 6,000 of the 40,000 gun deaths, the aggregate payment would be $36 billion. Despite low-balling the harms again and again, the industry does not come close to being able to cover the costs it imposes. The Gun Subsidy must, therefore, initially be massive if the industry is to be kept afloat. Reducing the subsidy over time, with some degree of certainty, will enable the industry to plan, redesign, alter marketing, work with state governments to implement better laws, and perhaps to participate in gun buy-backs. The responses are difficult to predict as non-experts, and that is the very point.

Benefits

A. Standard Tort Theory

First, the obvious: If manufacturers must pay for deaths caused by guns they manufacture, at least some of the costs of gun violence, accidents, and excess suicides would be spread over all gun owners rather than born primarily by victims and secondarily by society at large. That seems both fair and an appealing political argument in favor of shifting costs. Why should victims pay for the downsides of gun ownership? Why should we subsidize gun manufacturers who stand alone in reaping all the profits of their activities but not a very substantial portion of their costs? Higher retail gun prices would result from the automatic payment regime, and these higher prices would reduce the rate of gun ownership, but only rationally so. Of course, if you can manufacture a safer gun, it will incur less liability and so can be made cheaper. People will therefore be more likely to purchase safer guns.

All this is a traditional sort of argument for strict liability. Put the costs of injury on the entity that could most cheaply avoid or minimize them and you wind up with a system that more optimally balances costs and benefits. And so, on this ground, we might be inclined to repeal the Protection of Lawful Commerce in Arms Act, which, with some exceptions, shields gun manufacturers and dealers from liability for injuries arising from crimes committed with their products. We do not favor that and believe that the automatic CDC payment should be the exclusive form of liability.

[Reasons include the benefits of regularized expectations for manufacturers, more immediate cost imposition, reduction of transaction costs, the fact that compensation is a possible use of the Fund, additional certainty may breed more stable changes in manufacturer political behavior, etc. More to come here. ]

This novel form of liability is not designed to achieve the most “economically efficient number of gun deaths.” We both believe the right number of such deaths is zero. But while there are many possible solutions to reducing gun violence, our nation has eschewed all of them. For this reason, we would settle for less than optimal. Our problem is getting anything at all done in the face of powerful incentives to do nothing. To do so, we could try to get the gun manufacturer to think differently about its social role. And that, rather than mere cost-consciousness in its role as vendor, is the most important virtue of this proposal.

B. Political Economy

The payment regime’s most important effect, and one that we hope would have positive spillover effects on other political issues, would be to make gun manufacturers willing participants in social efforts to stem gun violence. When you are the one who will pay the cost of a bad outcome, you become directly concerned with preventing that outcome. Liability gives us a chance to flip the prevailing political script and to get those who know these weapons best to think hard about how to stop their being used to kill in large numbers.

Yes, manufacturers would seek to manufacture safer guns and to advertise and market in ways that minimize the risk of death. These are the vendor-specific effects of a tax. But they would also be far more likely to advocate for state and federal legal restrictions on gun ownership and sales, background checks, enforcement, and public health research. For the riskiest guns, manufacturers might support or even engage in gun buy-backs.

Because it is uncertain, especially from the perspective of those of us unfamiliar with guns and their manufacture, what the most effective mix of regulation and prohibition might be, we should align incentives so that those who do have expertise reveal it. To be clear, we shouldn’t tax gun deaths because we think that the amount of the tax is what life is worth. Nor is the purpose of a payment requirement to suggest that a manufacturer’s moral duty to the killed and maimed has been discharged with a financial transaction. Rather, the goal is to alter the organization of social forces in such a way that we, both gun violence prevention advocates and gun enthusiasts, begin to strive for the same goal, even if we continue to disagree about means. By putting some of the costs of guns back on their manufacturers, there might even arise a new National Rifle Association that is committed to researching and identifying effective regulations. After all, manufacturer lobbies lobby for manufacturers.

There is, we believe, potentially a further benefit of this proposal, though it is harder to quantify. While many of us may not be able to imagine making a living manufacturing assault rifles, people are different. We cannot ignore that people do in fact make these weapons for reasons that others may not completely understand and that they do in fact pay nothing for the deaths that result from their work. Internalizing these costs could change the way gunmakers understand their work, perhaps, helping them break free of the ideologically pure and oppositional politics that have corrupted their relationship to the community. Forcing a change in conceiving of the social effects of one’s business from “not my concern” to “my job is making sure that never happens” is a laudable goal on virtue ethics grounds. And while forcing payment will in the first instance change incentives, it just might, in the second instance, change minds and attitudes.

[Administrative implementation details and analysis of Heller will follow.]

A civilization cannot long exist that fails to respond deliberatively to urgent social problems. It is a damning indictment of ours and a great challenge to our existence as a great democracy that we did not respond to the mass-murder of twenty first-grade students in their classroom and six teachers and school workers. And the murders have continued. Democracy is hard work, and ours must find a way to ensure that social problems are perceived, that deliberation is had, and that efforts to solve them are implemented. The process of perceiving, considering, and responding, after all, is what distinguishes the actions of an intelligent being from the mechanics of a clod of earth.

The proposal here is optimistic. It posits that we can be better collectively if only our decision-making were organized in such a way that we engage the proper facts and lacked incentives to treat others as valueless. Perhaps we are wrong, and our worst instincts resist the moderating influence of political structures engineered to bring out our best. But it is worth trying to become better.

The Way Forward on Supreme Court Appointments

The nominations process for the Supreme Court is broken. Whatever the origins of this crisis, it reached a point of no return when Mitch McConnell determined that the Senate would refuse to consider any nominee put forth by then-President Obama to fill Justice Scalia’s seat. All pretense of a norm of deference to the President on appointments having been abandoned and a total commitment undertaken to do whatever it takes to dominate the Court, McConnell cemented us to a nominations regime of pure and naked calculation. There is, of course, no last strategic act, and a rational response to McConnell’s gambit is to appoint enough justices to achieve a progressive majority as soon as progressives take the White House and Senate. And then, one should expect the same response from conservatives. Ian Ayres and John Witt have suggested expanding the Court temporarily in a rebalancing move. But I’m skeptical, for a number of reasons having to do with legal realism and the nature of the GOP coalition, that we will ever return to a stable, norms-guided regime.

Nor should we. Just as there’s nothing right about McConnell’s historical obstruction, there’s also nothing particularly right about the fact Justice Scalia’s seat became available in 2016 rather than 2017. It is not based on any principle of justice or democracy that a member of the Court should die in one year rather than another. It is difficult to identify a theory of representation that the current appointment procedure serves well. If you think, as I do, that justices should represent the people as they are constituted over longer stretches of time than legislative or executive politicians, then you would want them to serve long terms and to be insulated from reprisals and incentives from those shorter-term representatives.

But with longer lives, relatively young appointees, the ability strategically to retire, and the fact that nine is small number relative to a justice’s expected term, the Supreme Court does not meet this representational desideratum. When President Trump’s appointment is seated, conservative justices will maintain their 5-4 majority on the Court. Since Justice Thomas was appointed in 1991, Republicans have controlled the White House for about 11 years. Democrats have controlled the White House for 16 years. Conservative justices have held a 5-4 majority on the Court for every moment of those 27 years. One could of course add to the years of Republican control any number of years prior, but that hardly justifies single-party domination of the Court unless one takes a curiously specific position on the temporal distribution of control of the two branches. More importantly, though, I raise this only to suggest that it is difficult to defend the current practice of lifetime appointments to a very small body, where turnover is either gamed or the random product of death. McConnellism is merely the nail in the coffin. Our fundamental problem is that appointments are either strategically or randomly available and that they are so few that their wattage overwhelms our politics and, lately at least, has caused us to be far less than our best civic selves.

To do better, we need a neutral plan that makes control of the Court turn on future elections and that contains a transition rule acceptable to both sides. That’s why I’ve proposed a 28th Amendment, the text of which you can read here. Solving this problem has three critical components: (a) a workable institutional structure, (b) a reliable appointment procedure, and (c) a clear and acceptable transition procedure. I intend with this amendment to provide all three.

Here are the key institutional features:

  • The Court will have 18 justices.
  • Each justice serves an 18-year term and then becomes available to sit by designation on lower courts or to do other work within the judiciary. So life tenure in the judiciary is preserved, but a life-long seat on the Court is not.
  • A justice departing early is replaced by the usual appointment procedure but only serves the term of the departing justice.
  • The Court may hear cases in panels and en banc.
  • Larger numbers decrease the importance of each individual justice, and the potential for a tie is a feature and not a bug.

And here is the appointment procedure:

  • Each year, the president nominates a justice to replace the outgoing justice.
  • The Senate may reject a nominee within 45 days of nomination if at least 60 members vote to do so. The Senate now has a time limit and must act affirmatively to block an appointment.
  • After three rejections, the Supreme Court will review the nominees and return to the Senate its judgment as to which nominees are professionally qualified. It will continue to do so for each nominee thereafter.
  • Once there are three Court-certified nominees, the Senate has 30 days to pick one of them. If it fails to do so, the president can pick any one of the three without Senate approval.
  • Upshot: there is a check on the appointment of the corrupt and the crazies, but the president will almost certainly achieve an appointment each year.

The most critical element of any restructuring of the Court is a transition rule to which otherwise antagonistic parties can agree. The rule I propose keeps the current members of the Court and treats them as though they had been appointed according to the above system. The additional vacancies will be filled, proportionately and separately by each of the political parties in the Senate. It may sound complicated at first, but the guiding light is that it generates a Court that reflects control of the White House during the 18 years prior to adoption. Here’s how it works:

  • Justices appointed more than 18 years prior to ratification are treated for purposes of the term limit as though they had been appointed at the earliest possible date by the president of the same political party that had appointed them. This would go in order of seniority so that the most senior Republican-appointed justice would be deemed to have been appointed in the first possible year he could have been appointed by a Republican president. And so on.
  • Justices appointed within the past 18 years will be deemed appointed in the year they were actually appointed, but if that year is unavailable then the next year in which there is a same-party vacancy. If there is more than one such justice, the first appointed will be deemed appointed in that year. In other words, we fill out the available slots by seniority, working forward from each justice’s actual appointment year. If there is no vacancy, then the most senior justice of that party is deemed retired and the process is begun again. Any justice who cannot be assigned an appointment year by this method is deemed retired.
  • Actually applying the procedure makes it plainer. If the Amendment were adopted now, we would need justices to fill slots beginning in 2001 and ending in 2018 (18 justices, one per year). We begin by assigning appointment years to the justices appointed more than 18 years ago: Thomas, Ginsburg, and Breyer. Thomas is the most senior and is a Republican appointee. The earliest available slot for a Republican appointee is 2001, when George W. Bush was president, and so Thomas is deemed appointed in 2001 and would step down in 2019. Ginsburg would be deemed appointed in 2009, the first available appointment year for a Democratic appointee. Breyer, then, would be deemed appointed in 2010.
  • Next, we turn to the justices who have been appointed in the past 18 years. Roberts was appointed in 2005 and Alito in 2006. Both of those years are available, and so both are deemed appointed in their actual appointment years. Sotomayor was appointed in 2009, but that year is unavailable, because Ginsburg has been deemed appointed in that year. The next year in which there is a same-party vacancy is 2011, because Breyer has been deemed appointed in 2010. Thus, Sotomayor will be deemed appointed in 2011, and Kagan, because she was appointed in 2010, will be deemed appointed in 2012. Gorsuch’s actual appointment year is 2017, and that year is available, as is 2018 for any Trump appointee filling Justice Scalia’s seat.
  • We now have nine vacancies corresponding to various appointment years. These would be filled as follows. Any vacant appointment year will filled by a justice selected by a majority of Senators of the same political party as the president for that year. So Senate Republicans would make appointments for the years 2002-2004 and 2007-2008, and Democrats for the years 2013-2016.
  • Note that the procedure above handles more exotic configurations of the Court, sometimes forcing retirements, but always matching the political composition of the Court with control of the White House during the prior 18 years.

Here is the transitional Supreme Court:

  • 2001: Thomas
  • 2002-2004: 3 new Senate GOP appointees
  • 2005: Roberts
  • 2006: Alito
  • 2007-2008: 2 new Senate GOP appointees
  • 2009: Ginsburg
  • 2010: Breyer
  • 2011: Sotomayor
  • 2012: Kagan
  • 2013-16: 4 new Senate Democrat appointees
  • 2017: Gorsuch
  • 2018: new Trump appointee

In 2019, Thomas steps down and is replaced by a Trump appointee. In 2020, the first new GOP Senate appointee steps down and is replaced by a Trump appointee, etc. The result is that GOP-appointees would hold a 10-8 majority until 2021, when the new president would begin making appointments. This preserves the status quo until the next presidential election, on which a Supreme Court majority will turn in predictable fashion. But, also, with greater numbers there is the chance that political majorities on the Court will be more tenuous and less ideologically rigid.

I believe that the nominations crisis that became impossible to ignore with the blockade of Merrick Garland presents an opportunity to create a more representative Court and an appointments process less prone to degrading our political virtues. My amendment is one way forward, and I would love to debate its merits and alternatives.

Amendment XXVIII: A First Draft

Section 1. Article III, Section 1 is hereby repealed. The authority granted in Article II, Section 2 to the President to nominate and to appoint, by and with the advice and consent of the Senate, judges of the Supreme Court is hereby revoked.

Section 2. The judicial power of the United States, shall be vested in one Supreme Court and in such inferior courts as the Congress may from time to time ordain and establish. The Supreme Court shall have the power to hear cases before panels of some of their number and en banc, according to procedures it establishes. A resolution by a panel of the Supreme Court shall be deemed a resolution by the Supreme Court, unless it thereafter reviews the resolution en banc.

There shall be eighteen Justices of the Supreme Court, each of whom shall serve an eighteen-year term as an active Justice. Thereafter, a Justice may continue to serve by designation on lower courts and otherwise to support the judiciary. The judges, both of the supreme and inferior courts, shall hold their offices during good behavior, and shall, at stated times, receive for their services, a compensation, which shall not be diminished during their continuance in office.

Section 3. Upon a vacancy on the Supreme Court, a Justice shall be appointed by the President after nomination, unless the Senate disapproves by a vote of 3/5 of its number within 45 days of notification of the nomination. In case three nominations for a vacancy are disapproved, the Supreme Court shall pass on the professional qualifications of the disapproved nominees and any disapproved nominees for the vacancy thereafter. When the Supreme Court has returned to the Senate three qualified nominees, the Senate shall have 30 days to confirm the appointment of one of them, else the President shall appoint from among them.

A Justice who, by reason of death, retirement, removal, or otherwise, departs active service before the end of the Justice’s eighteen-year term shall be replaced according to this appointment procedure, except that the appointee shall serve as an active Justice for only the remainder of the departing Justice’s term.

Section 4. A Justice serving at the time of the ratification of this Amendment and whose term has otherwise expired shall, in order of seniority, be deemed to have been appointed in the first year during which the presidency was held by the same political party as the Justice’s appointing President and in which no Justice senior has been deemed appointed. If there is no such year, the Justice is deemed retired.

Any other Justice shall, in order of seniority, be deemed appointed in the year the Justice was in fact appointed, but if another Justice senior has been deemed appointed that year under this Section, then the Justice is deemed appointed in the next year during which the presidency was held by the same political party as the Justice’s appointing President and in which no Justice senior has been deemed appointed. If there is no such year, then the most senior Justice appointed by a President of the same party is deemed retired and the appointments shall proceed under this Section without that Justice.

There shall be a transitional appointment procedure by which any vacancies that exist at the time of ratification are filled. For any year of the 18 years prior to ratification in which no appointment was made or deemed made by this Section, a majority of those Senators belonging to the political party of the President in office for the largest portion of that year shall appoint a Justice, who will thereafter be deemed to have been appointed in that year. Any vacancy arising within two years of ratification from the retirement of a Justice serving at the time of ratification shall be filled by this transitional procedure if the Justice's term has not expired.

References in this section to political parties do not create any novel structural role for political parties other than expediently and acceptably constituting this transitional procedure.

Overcoming Gun Violence

[Note: This post elaborates an idea Joe Miller and I explored on an episode of Oral Argument. That discussion is in places more detailed and in places less.]

This American carnage, as the president put it on the occasion of his inauguration, can indeed stop. While it is unrealistic in a country of over 300 million to believe we can eliminate all interpersonal violence, it is equally absurd to insist that mass shootings and thousands of gun suicides are as inseparable from our landscape as oxygen. To shout down even the possibility of change is not only ignorant and unimaginative, it’s callous.

To say that there is no solution to this new and deadly parade of spectacular violence is a grievous insult to all those who struggled before us, and against much greater odds, for justice and for survival. Our founders, our revolutionaries, our heroes, from Washington to Harriet Tubman to Lincoln to MLK, of course they didn’t end forever the risk of upheaval or destroy for all time all social ills. But they gave to us a fighting chance, one that is now ours to blow. Have we grown so inept and passive that the instant an actual challenge confronts us we pronounce the task politically insurmountable? Again, what a shocking insult such an attitude is to those who have come before us. We must not only try to fight evil in our time, but, more fundamentally, we must resolve to organize ourselves to do so. And we can.

Our primary problem here, as with too many other issues, is not one of human nature but of social organization. The minds and experience that could be directed to reducing gun violence are instead consumed with fending off any and all gun regulation. This dynamic has caused extensive damage not only to victims of violence but also to our body politic. I do not believe in seeking an end to politics, a perpetual bipartisanism. No, it’s important and good that we disagree with one another vehemently about things that matter. But the gun debate has become so caricatured and at the same time so stagnant that it has fostered in too many of us the insidious belief that our greatest problems are beyond our ability even to address. From it has grown a cynicism that politics cannot ever be responsive to social problems. The gun debate is a cancer that has spread to other vital issues, and it must be cured.

I propose a first step that centers directly on the political problem. It is not a suggestion of guns to ban or background checks to be performed. Before all else, we must begin rowing in the same direction, and there is a way to accomplish this critical first step: liability. Not private liability, with lawsuits, discovery, and punitive damage awards, but an unambiguously required and automatic payment by a gun manufacturer to a special fund after one of its guns causes a death. This change would not be the end of our effort to stem gun violence, but a necessary beginning that would unlock rational policymaking. A civilization cannot long exist that fails to respond deliberatively to urgent social problems. It is a damning indictment of ours and a great challenge to our existence as a great democracy that we did not respond to the mass-murder of twenty first-grade students in their classroom and six teachers and school workers. And the murders have continued. Democracy is hard work, and ours must find a way to ensure that social problems are perceived, that deliberation is had, and that efforts to solve them are implemented. The process of perceiving, considering, and responding, after all, is what distinguishes the actions of an intelligent being from the mechanics a clod of earth.

I Don’t Know Anything About Guns

Guns are the means by which almost 40,000 Americans die each year. 40,000 is a useful number to use a yardstick of risk in the United States. It’s roughly the number of people who die annually in car accidents. It’s a little less than the number of people who died from opioid overdoses in 2016. It is about the number of suicides. It’s a little more than the total of all pre- and post-natal infant deaths. It’s roughly a quarter of all deaths from all accidents. And it’s between one and two percent of all deaths. These figures are approximate, but – see here for details – 40,000 deaths marks one social problem after another.

Now if you’re a proud gun enthusiast, you and I are not going to have the same intuitions about the costs and benefits of gun ownership. The evidence is that keeping guns is, all things considered, somewhat risky. That said, we all do lots of risky things, and if the worst risks guns imposed was a heightened risk of suicide and accidental death, then maybe we could put gun ownership in the same category as smoking or motorcycle riding: things adults should be able to do if their eyes are open to the dangers.

But guns impose enormous costs that are not born entirely by gun owners and not at all by gun manufacturers. These costs are measured in medical bills, death, and grief. The one thing everyone can agree on is that this level of suffering is horrible and that it would be good to eliminate it.

I want to compromise. You see, I care nothing for guns. I know little about them other than what I’ve read and what I’ve learned watching PUBG matches on Twitch. I’m not a gun guy. If it were up to me and if I had no humility about the importance others might attach to guns, I’d propose we ban them entirely and that we confiscate the existing stock without compensation. Sounds extreme, right? Well, I don’t believe they are even close to worth their cost, that they make safety-obsessed owners much less safe, and that the fantasies they engender of fending off either bad guys or (even more ludicrously) a tyrannical government are unhealthy.

But I do understand that guns have important and unknown-to-me meanings for others and that more carful analysis of the “how maintained” and “what kinds of guns” questions could, possibly, point toward an acceptable regime of private gun ownership. How do we get there?

Automatic Liability to a Fund

If you suggest an assault weapon ban, gun people, in my experience, immediately assail the idea as ineffective and reflecting profound ignorance of what guns are and how they work. Whatever. I’ll concede that I just don’t know much about guns. I’m not the right person to decide whether and how guns and gun sales could be safer. But the beauty of economics and thoughtful politics is that I don’t have to know “the one right answer” to optimal gun production and distribution to make a boring suggestion that will help us all:

If gun manufacturers had to pay the costs of gun deaths, then a number of good things would begin to happen.

I propose that gun manufacturers be required to pay $6 million for a death caused by a firearm they manufacture. The manufacturer would be liable not to a private party but to a federal fund, which could be called the Firearm Safety Fund and be administered by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Liability would be automatic and avoided only when the death is the result of a legitimate use of force by a law enforcement officer or an exercise of justifiable self defense. Such defenses to payment could be raised in an administrative hearing before the CDC (and appealed from there as any other administrative adjudication). There would be no private plaintiffs’ attorneys, no fights over punitive or compensatory damages or comparative negligence or discovery or any of the usual but often necessary sources of inefficiency in litigation. This would be closer to a death tax than a lawsuit.

The details, of course, matter. For example, I would make the findings of responsible medical examiners concerning which gun caused a death (and whether it did) conclusive for these purposes, and it would be a federal offense for any agent of a firearms manufacturer to attempt to influence such an examiner. I’d also probably discount the payment owed for gun suicides - not because such lives are less valuable but to require payment only for the excess number of successful suicides caused by guns – i.e., the number of suicides over and above what that number would be if only alternative methods of suicide were available. See, e.g., chapter two of Liza Gold, Gun Violence and Mental Illness. I’d perhaps require a bi- or triennial determination by the CDC of this figure through the normal informal rulemaking process.

This is not intended to be a perfect Pigouvian tax. The amount of the payment I suggest would be significantly less, in aggregate, than the cost of actual harms flowing from the use of guns. It would only require payment for deaths and not for injuries, which number more than twice the number of deaths. And the $6 million figure is less than what most agencies identify as the monetary value of a human life for cost-benefit analysis purposes. But perfect internalization of externalities, a theoretically dubious propositions for reasons well trodden by Ronald Coase, is not the point.

The Ordinary Benefits

First, the obvious: at least some of the costs of gun violence, accidents, and excess suicides would be spread over all gun owners rather than born primarily by victims and secondarily by society at large. That seems both fair and an appealing political argument in favor of shifting costs. Why should everyone and especially victims pay for the downsides of gun ownership? Why should we all subsidize gun manufacturers who stand alone in reaping all the profits of their activities but not a very substantial portion of their costs? Higher retail gun prices would result from the automatic payment regime, and these higher prices would reduce the rate of gun ownership, but rationally so. Of course, if you can manufacture a safer gun, it will incur less liability and so can be made cheaper. People will therefore be more likely to purchase safer guns.

All this is a traditional sort of argument for strict liability. Put the costs of injury on the entity that could most cheaply avoid or minimize them and you wind up with a system that more optimally balances costs and benefits. And so, on this ground, we might be inclined to repeal the Protection of Lawful Commerce in Arms Act, which, with some exceptions, shields gun manufacturers and dealers from liability for injuries arising from crimes committed with their products. I do not favor that and believe that the automatic CDC payment should be the exclusive form of liability. That’s because I think it would be a cleaner and more certain way to regularize the expectation of manufacturer cost.

I’m not suggesting this novel form of liability in order to achieve the most “economically efficient number of gun deaths.” There are many possible solutions to reducing gun violence, and we have eschewed all of them. I’d settle for less than optimal. No, our problem is getting anything done at all when there are powerful incentives to do nothing. And I want the manufacturer to think differently about their social role.

The Promise

The payment regime’s most important effect, and one that I hope would have positive spillover effects on other political issues, would be to make gun manufacturers a key and willing participant in stemming gun violence. When you are the one who will pay the cost of a bad outcome, you become directly concerned with preventing that outcome. Liability gives us a chance to flip the script and to get those who know these weapons best thinking hard about how to stop their being used to kill in large numbers.

Yes, manufacturers would seek to manufacture safer guns and to advertise and market in ways that minimize the risk of death. But they would also be far more likely to advocate for state and federal legal restrictions on gun ownership and sales, background checks, enforcement, and research. For the riskiest guns, manufacturers might support or even engage in gun buybacks.

Because I am not sure what the most effective mix of regulation and prohibition might be, I want to align incentives so that those who do have expertise reveal it. To be clear, we shouldn’t tax gun deaths because we think that the amount of the tax is what life is worth and that if you can pay then death is fine, but, rather, because it would alter the organization of social forces in such a way that we begin to strive for the same goal, even if we continue to disagree about means. By putting some of the costs on guns back on their manufacturers, we might even wind up with a new NRA that is committed to researching and identifying effective regulations. After all, manufacturer lobbies lobby for manufactures.

Questions

“What about the Second Amendment?” Read Part III of Scalia’s opinion in District of Columbia v. Heller. For example: “[N]othing in our opinion should be taken to cast doubt on longstanding prohibitions on the possession of firearms by felons and the mentally ill, or laws forbidding the carrying of firearms in sensitive places such as schools and government buildings, or laws imposing conditions and qualifications on the commercial sale of arms.” He also strongly suggests that “weapons that are most useful in military service—M-16 rifles and the like—may be banned.”

“Why do you equate the lives of children with money?” I do not. The purpose of a payment requirement is not to suggest that a manufacturer’s moral duty to the killed and maimed has been discharged with a financial transaction. Personally, I cannot imagine making a living manufacturing assault rifles. But people are different, and we cannot ignore that people do in fact make these weapons and do in fact pay nothing for the deaths that result from their work. I believe that internalizing these costs would force a change to the way they understand their work, breaking free of the ideologically pure and oppositional politics that have, in my view, corrupted their relationship to the community. Forcing a change in conceiving of one’s business from “not my concern” to “my job is making sure that never happens” is the goal. And while forcing payment will in the first instance change incentives, it just might, in the second instance, change minds and attitudes.

“But with this number of deaths, even discounting for suicide, the industry might be on the hook for over $150 billion!?!?” The costs of gun violence are shockingly high aren’t they.

“This is a ridiculous suggestion because gun manufacturers won’t be able to pay these astronomical costs and stay in business.” Drop absolutely everything else you are doing, find a quiet place, and think very, very hard about what you just said.

Lamentation

It’s not that death is unexpected. Even untimely, it demands acceptance. Perhaps the most odious snark is to criticize how others mourn a passing. I won’t do that. This year of avulsion has wrenched our future from the familiar channels of our politics, our nostalgia, and our efforts to mean something.

Deaths aren’t the only occasions for existential confrontation with ourselves. Maybe we’re struck upon seeing the surface of another planet or reading about the sterilizing jets of a gamma ray burst. But these only extend to further realms of the unimaginable the truth we learn more directly when struggling through the sands and forests of terrestrial wilderness: We are not the universe’s conceptual center. What is yet still harder won is to feel, rather than just to think, not that we are within the universe but that we in fact are the universe, our separateness an illusion and our sensed connections a pale but suggestive reflection of reality.

Jedediah Purdy warns against taking too far the belief that reality is a continuous fabric, its people, rocks, and stars not discrete phenomena but conceived as such by the mind - and this, the mind’s construction, as much an undifferentiated ripple as falling rocks or calving glaciers. As he puts it, we may be tempted, especially in this moment, to combat the myopia of self-interest by believing “biological identities are possible only because of aliens within us, the bacteria and portmanteau cells that form our so-called selves.” But this, he reminds us, is “inadequate because it does not take seriously ... that democratic community is utterly real, as real as dirt, because we are trapped in it, because the facts we majoritarian bandits choose become the facts we live with every day.”

And that is indeed the brute fact, that we do suffer, that we do fear, and that we do thrill and love. Even though we are the universe, this universe that we are imagines alternatives to the causes and effects that mark its temporal shape. It imagines joy and suffering, the very real, grounded states we believe are our own. In culture, as well as in law, it expresses as a humming multitude of minds all aware of one another, a hall of mirrors.

The deaths this year have come as repeated blows to this collective imagination. So many talents, so many hauntingly beautiful and wonderfully flawed people have left us. They stand in even greater relief against the electoral victory of Trump, a triumph of fear over imagination itself. His toddler instincts are so obviously the unrepressed failures of introspection that we all sometimes recognize bubbling up within ourselves. He secretes them as infantile demands to be adored, to be the most powerful, and to get the last hit, demands the rest of us usually damp through inner, reflective conversation. It feels too much to bear that his repeated, embarrassing blatherings are treated as important, even as we mourn the passing of adult lives of such full scope.

From music, to art, to science, to film, and even to goofy TV shows whose decades-old cathode beams still illuminate our adult minds, our culture and its pioneers are shadowy representations of the true fact of our togetherness. Their genius is ours. Their failings, ours. To say this is to engage in more than collective claiming, it is to restate the ultimate truth. While our universal body regularly sheds its skins, mostly escaping similarly universal notice, we find ourselves now ridden with cancer and wishing them back, that our body would cease its sloughing and keep warm by a hearth we wish were there.

A Politics of Decency

The greatest pleasure of my career as a law professor has been engaging with students and colleagues of diverse ideologies and backgrounds. I don’t just tolerate those who hold opposing policy preferences and core beliefs, I love them, and I have been deeply affected by conversation, laughter, and serious argument with so many. I hold no grudges and demand no deference, but I also pay the respect to those whom I teach and teach alongside not to pretend that I have no commitments or opinions. We are stronger not in spite but because of such frankness when it is accompanied by good will. I write now because this central experience in my life and the very promise of an enlightened Republic are, I fear, in grave danger. But we can do this together.

Donald Trump is immoral and indecent, and both his authoritarian tendencies and his narcissism threaten our values and institutions. I have been greatly heartened at various points along this darkest timeline by the many decent conservatives who have stood up and said no.

Take Evan McMullin, with whom I respectfully but adamantly disagree on issues ranging from the causes and significance of the national debt, health care reform, and guns. Evan, though, has been the leader we now need through his articulation of something more basic than these issues, something that should unite us all against Donald Trump. On Twitter, he has called out Trump’s conflicts of interest, his seeming alliance with authoritarians, and his lack of concern for the most vulnerable. His solution:

Now we have the opportunity, in fact the need, to claim the common ground that I know is there. That common ground is liberty & equality.

I agree. I propose thinking about our common ground in terms of the most essential way it rejects Trumpism and that encompasses a general commitment to liberty and equality: basic decency.

A politics of decency:

  • rejects authoritarianism, even as it embraces meaningful disagreement concerning the metes and bounds of federalism and regulation;
  • abhors sexual assault and misogyny, even as it recognizes differences in how best to combat these problems;
  • will not stand for profiteering from public office, even as it contains a wide range of views on campaign finance and on the subtler questions of proper and improper influence;
  • repudiates scapegoating the poor and vulnerable, even as its participants differ on the proper way to fund our civilization and the relative burdens that should be assessed;
  • condemns lying to the people, even as it does not purport to deliver judgment on the trustworthiness of various conventional politicians and whether various instances of spin go too far;
  • refuses to tolerate white nationalism and religious and sexual bigotry, the discarded ideologies that animated the most shameful and violent episodes of our past, even as the debate will continue over, for example, how best to overcome the badges of slavery and to be color-blind without also being blind to the lingering effects of racial castes;
  • and stands against government officials who bully individual citizens, even as it encourages serious debate among its participants concerning the merits of their ideas.

Donald Trump is indecent. And if he cannot learn to stay within the guardrails of what decency requires, he must either be voted out in disgrace at the first available opportunity or impeached and removed should his transgressions go that far. We will not accept a lower bar for the conduct of Trump simply because the whole world’s expectations are already so low.

Instead, we will stand together, conservatives, liberals, and whoever, to demand that our local politicians and, especially, House representatives, hold Donald Trump strictly accountable to the demands of decency. We will attend our representatives’ town halls, participate in marches for unity, resist assaults on our core values, and help one another in the best traditions of our nation. And we will continue to do this even when some among us engage in anarchy or otherwise attempt to hijack our efforts to advance particular causes. We will condemn these distractions but not ourselves become distracted from doing what is necessary to preserve the soul of this nation.

I hope you will demand that we reject the emerging global axis of authoritarianism and that we not throw away so cheaply that which has taken 240 years of struggle to build. In basic decency to one another is the path to preserving that degree of liberty and equality we have inherited. And in that same decency, we will find the common ground on which to debate vigorously but with love how best to realize liberty and equality in the future.

Legal Theory 101

Over the past few years, I have developed and taught a course in basic American legal theory, or jurisprudence, covering legal realism, analytical jurisprudence, law and economics, critical legal theory, and, occasionally, other topics. The course asks, repeatedly, what we are doing when do law. A lot of what I do when I teach the course is to suggest to students just how much of what they assume about the practice of law is just that, unexamined assumption. Legal change, and even just excellent normal-science lawyering, occurs only when one understands the social phenomenon of law a little more deeply than as a set of static rules to be mastered.

In 2016, I began to offer this course online to our students. The in-person version of the course comprised twice-a-week seminar meetings. For the online version, I recorded a podcast series discussing the readings and asking some questions. The students would listen to the week’s episodes in advance of an online, 100-minute meeting. Like all courses, this one may not be for everyone, but I’ve enjoyed putting it together and have been pleased with the resulting feedback.

I’m making the syllabus and podcast available to anyone who might be interested. So here is Legal Theory 101. Feel free to make use of the syllabus and materials in any way you like. If you’re a teacher who winds up using some or all of the audio, it’d make me happy to hear from you. I’m always delighted to engage and talk about these matters!

True Love Waits

I'm not ready to say anything more about A Moon Shaped Pool than that yesterday, see previous post, I wrote:

True Love Waits (live). A straight-ahead acoustic ballad. "I'm not living. I'm just killing time." It works. This is one many fans have hoped would be finished in the studio. I also have a fan-made version that combines various live performances and an arpeggiated synth pattern that I really like. We'll see.

and today we got True Love Waits as the emotionally overwhelming closing song on a riveting album. "Just ... don't leave."