By David B. Rivkin, Jr., and Andrew M. Grossman

August 25, 2024, in the Wall Street Journal

Democrats have made clear that if they win the presidency and Congress in November, they will attempt to take over the Supreme Court as well. Shortly after ending his re-election campaign, President Biden put forth a package of high-court “reforms,” including term limits and a “binding” ethics code designed to infringe on judicial authority. Kamala Harris quickly signed on, and Majority Leader Chuck Schumer has made clear that bringing the justices to heel is a top priority.

Democrats proclaim their devotion to democratic institutions, but their plan for the court is an assault on America’s basic constitutional structure. The Framers envisioned a judiciary operating with independence from influences by the political branches. Democratic “reform” proposals are designed to change the composition of the court or, failing that, to influence the justices by turning up the political heat, as President Franklin D. Roosevelt achieved with his failed 1937 court-packing plan.

Now as then, the court stands between a Democratic administration and its ambitions. The reformers’ beef is precisely that the court is doing its job by enforcing constitutional and statutory constraints on the powers of Congress and the executive branch.

Roosevelt sought to shrug off limits on the federal government’s reach. What’s hamstrung the Obama and Biden administrations is the separation of powers among the branches. President Obama saw his signature climate initiative, the Clean Power Plan, stayed by the court, which later ruled that it usurped Congress’s lawmaking power. The Biden administration repeatedly skirted Congress to enact major policies by executive fiat, only for the courts to enjoin and strike them down. That includes the employer vaccine mandate, the eviction moratorium and the student-loan forgiveness plan.

That increasingly muscular exercises of executive power have accompanied the left’s ascendance in the Democratic Party coalition is no coincidence. The legislative process entails compromise and moderation, which typically cuts against radical goals. That was the lesson self-styled progressives took from ObamaCare, which they’ve never stopped faulting for failing to establish a government medical-insurance provider to compete directly with private ones. Similarly, Congress has always tailored student-loan relief to reward public service and account for genuine need.

Then there’s the progressive drive for hands-on administration of the national economy by “expert” agencies empowered to make, enforce and adjudicate the laws. The Supreme Court has stood as a bulwark against the combination of powers that James Madison pronounced “the very definition of tyranny.” Decisions from the 2023-24 term cut back on agencies’ power to make law through aggressive reinterpretation of their statutory authority, to serve as judge in their own cases, and to evade judicial review of regulations alleged to conflict with statute. By enforcing constitutional limits on the concentration of power in agencies, the Roberts court has fortified both democratic accountability and individual liberty.

That explains the Democratic Party’s attacks on the court. The New York Times’s Jamelle Bouie recently praised Mr. Biden for identifying the court as the “major obstacle to the party’s ability” to carry out its agenda and commended the president’s “willingness to challenge the Supreme Court as a political entity.” That explains the ginned-up “ethics” controversies: The aim is to discredit the court, as has become the norm in political warfare.

An even bigger lie is the refrain that the court is “out of control” and “undemocratic.” Consider the most controversial decisions of recent terms. Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization (2022) returned the regulation of abortion to the democratic process. West Virginia v. EPA(2022) and Loper Bright Enterprises v. Raimondo (2024) constrained agencies’ power to say what the law is, without denying Congress’s power to pursue any end. Securities and Exchange Commission v. Jarkesy (2024) elevated the Seventh Amendment right to a jury in fraud cases over the SEC’s preference to bring such cases in its own in-house tribunals. And Trump v. U.S. (2024), the presidential immunity ruling, extended the doctrine of Nixon v. Fitzgerald (1982) to cover criminal charges as well as lawsuits, without altering the scope of presidential power one iota.

Meanwhile, the administrative state has scored wins in some of this year’s cases. In Consumer Financial Protection Bureau v. Community Financial Services Association, the justices rejected a challenge to the CFPB’s open-ended funding mechanism. A ruling to the contrary could have spelled the agency’s end. In Moody v. NetChoice, it reversed a far-reaching injunction restricting agencies’ communications with social-media companies seeking to censor content. And in Food and Drug Administration v. Alliance for Hippocratic Medicine, it reversed another injunction, against the FDA over its approval of an abortion pill. The last two decisions were notable as exercises of judicial restraint. In both cases, the court found the challengers lacked standing to sue.

What Mr. Biden, Ms. Harris, Mr. Schumer and their party are attempting to do is wrong and dangerous. They aim to destroy a branch of federal government. For faithfully carrying out its role, the court faces an unprecedented attack on its independence, beyond even Roosevelt’s threats. Unlike then, however, almost every Democratic lawmaker and official marches in lockstep, and the media, which were skeptical of Roosevelt’s plan, march with them.

As Alexander Hamilton observed, the “independence of the judges” is “requisite to guard the Constitution and the rights of individuals” from the actions of “designing men” set on “dangerous innovations in the government.” The political branches have forgone their own obligation to follow the Constitution, which makes the check of review by an independent judiciary all the more essential. Ms. Harris and Mr. Schumer would put it under threat.

Mr. Rivkin served at the Justice Department and the White House Counsel’s Office in the Reagan and George H.W. Bush administrations. Mr. Grossman is a senior legal fellow at the Buckeye Institute. Both practice appellate and constitutional law in Washington.

Source: https://www.wsj.com/opinion/harris-and-schumer-target-supreme-court-2024-election-destroy-judicial-independence-3ca50d5b

The precedent strips judges and lawmakers of legitimate power and hands it to bureaucrats.

By David B. Rivkin, Jr., and Andrew M. Grossman

16 January 2024 in the Wall Street Journal

Conservatives often criticize liberal jurists for “judicial activism”—disregarding laws passed by elected legislators and imposing their own policy preferences instead. On Wednesday the Supreme Court will consider whether to overturn a precedent that went too far in the other direction by surrendering the judicial role of interpreting the law and handing it to unelected bureaucrats and agency heads.

Loper Bright Enterprises v. Raimondo is a case about fishing regulation. The National Marine Fisheries Service issued a rule requiring the plaintiffs to pay the costs of carrying federal conservation monitors aboard their vessels. The fishermen argued that the service had no legal authority to do so, but the high court’s precedent in Chevron v. NRDC (1984) obligated the U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia to defer to the government’s interpretation of an “ambiguous” statute.

Chevron was an “accidental landmark,” as legal scholar Thomas Merrill put it in 2014. At issue in the case was a Clean Air Act regulation interpreting the term “stationary source” to refer to an entire facility rather than a single smokestack. This definition enabled facilities to make changes that didn’t increase their total pollution without triggering onerous permitting requirements for “new or modified” sources. The justices upheld the regulation, deferring to the agency’s interpretation of “ambiguous” text.

For as long as they’d had the power to do so, federal courts interpreted statutes for themselves where necessary to decide a case, including in cases challenging agencies’ positions on the laws they administer. Chevron superseded that approach with a blanket rule of deference.

It’s unclear if the high court intended this fundamental change. Chevron’s author, Justice John Paul Stevens, regarded the decision as ordinary pragmatism: “When I am so confused, I go with the agency,” he told his colleagues as they discussed the case in conference.

By all indications, Chevron’s reasoning was driven by the need to assemble a court majority on a difficult interpretive question. That explains the decision’s failure to grapple with the obvious consequences of its logic. The Constitution vests the “judicial power” in the courts. “It is emphatically the province and duty of the judicial department to say what the law is,” as Chief Justice John Marshall wrote in Marbury v. Madison (1803). Chevron bucked that constitutional command without acknowledging that it did so.

Chevron deference also conflicts with the Administrative Procedure Act of 1946, which provides that a “reviewing court shall decide all relevant questions of law” and “interpret constitutional and statutory provisions.” Chevron doesn’t cite the APA.

While few appreciated Chevron’s import when it was handed down, its potential was apparent to the Justice Department. The Reagan administration seized on the decision as a corrective to the judicial activism of lower courts, especially the D.C. Circuit, in blocking its deregulatory agenda. The Chevron doctrine bulldozed the policy-driven obstacles courts had thrown up to block regulatory reforms. It gained adherents among newly appointed textualist judges like Antonin Scalia and Kenneth Starr on the D.C. Circuit, who favored judicial restraint.

But over the years Chevron became less about judicial restraint and more about agency dominance. With the movement toward textualism, led by Justices Scalia and Clarence Thomas, courts gradually returned to constrained formalism in interpreting statutes. Armed with the Chevron doctrine, however, the administrative state learned to wield its new interpretive power to maximum effect.

Deference might have been relatively harmless if agencies engaged in a good-faith effort to carry out unclear statutes. But beginning in the Clinton administration, Chevron changed the way they go about their business. Instead of asking what Congress meant, agency lawyers and decision makers hunt for ambiguities, real or imagined, to justify their policy objectives.

As agencies relied more on Chevron to pursue policy agendas, judges were forced to confront a greater range of asserted “ambiguities” with no standard to distinguish among them. Judicial review is the essential check on executive overreach, yet Chevron put a brick on the scale by committing the courts to favor the government’s positions. It is all too easy for courts, when faced with difficult or contentious interpretive questions, to waive the ambiguity flag and defer.

By aggrandizing the power of unelected bureaucrats, the Chevron doctrine also diminishes Congress. Witness the unseemly but now-routine spectacle of lawmakers hectoring the president and agencies to enact policy programs—from student-loan forgiveness to the expansion of antitrust law and greenhouse gas-regulation—rather than legislating themselves. The prospect of achieving an uncompromised policy win through executive action has replaced the give-and-take of the legislative process.

But the victories achieved in this fashion are only as durable as the current administration, and each new president takes office with a longer list of “day one” executive actions to reverse his predecessor and implement his own agenda. Donald Trump raised hackles last month when he said he would be a “dictator,” but only on “day one.” He was describing the post-Chevron presidency.

The principal argument of Chevron’s defenders is “reliance.” Ending deference to agencies, they say, would create regulatory uncertainty and threaten the viability of the administrative state. But what reliance interest can there be in a doctrine that empowers agencies to change course on a political whim, over and again?

The Supreme Court has already been moving away from Chevron deference, which it hasn’t applied since 2016. The Covid pandemic heightened the need for agency flexibility, yet none of the justices’ pandemic-policy decisions resorted to deference. In recent years, 13 states have rejected Chevron-style deference in interpreting state law without consequence.

Chevron’s rule of deference is an abdication of judicial duty, not an exercise in judicial restraint. It has proved unworkable and corrosive to the constitutional separation of powers. Forty years later, the court should correct its mistake.

Mr. Rivkin served at the Justice Department and the White House Counsel’s Office in the Reagan and George H.W. Bush administrations. Mr. Grossman is a senior legal fellow at the Buckeye Institute and an adjunct scholar at the Cato Institute. He filed a friend-of-the-court brief in support of the petitioners in Loper Bright. Both authors practice appellate and constitutional law in Washington.

Source: https://www.wsj.com/articles/too-much-judicial-restraint-chevron-deference-supreme-court-unintended-effect-3c898c3b

By David B. Rivkin, Jr., and Andrew M. Grossman

7 December 2022 in the Wall Street Journal

The Supreme Court considers on Wednesday whether the Constitution’s Elections Clause means what it says—that “the times, places and manner of holding elections for senators and representatives, shall be prescribed in each state by the legislature thereof.” That question arises from a litigation blitz seeking to override state election laws. Unless the justices get the answer right, elections for Congress and president could become a free-for-all with judges being the ultimate deciders.

At issue in Moore v. Harper is North Carolina’s congressional map. In 2021 the state legislature—the General Assembly—enacted a redistricting plan. Lawmakers expressly rejected partisan considerations in drawing district lines. Nonetheless, groups aligned with the Democratic Party sued, arguing that the map was a partisan gerrymander and violated the state constitution.

The precise nature of that violation is an interesting question. Unlike some state constitutions, North Carolina’s doesn’t forbid partisan redistricting. Lacking any textual hook for their claim, the challengers cited a potpourri of state constitutional clauses, including ones guaranteeing “free elections,” equal protection and even free speech. The North Carolina Supreme Court ruled in their favor, despite having rejected a similar claim a few years earlier, and ultimately a court-imposed congressional map was used for this year’s elections.

The U.S. Supreme Court’s task in Moore is straightforward. The Elections Clause directs “the legislature” to regulate congressional elections, which includes drawing district maps. State courts aren’t part of the legislative process, and thus the North Carolina Supreme Court was obligated to uphold the General Assembly’s map.

It really is that simple. Many other constitutional clauses refer to a “state,” but the Elections Clause singles out a state “legislature.” In so doing, it conveys a unique legislative power to make a type of federal law. Like all federal laws, these can’t be trumped by state constitutional provisions. State courts have the power to interpret election regulations, but they can’t override the legislature’s handiwork unless it conflicts with the U.S. Constitution or a statute enacted by Congress.

The historical record of litigation involving federal election laws is straightforward, too. Of the bushels of briefs supporting the Moore plaintiffs, not one identifies a state-court decision striking down a law governing federal elections until 70 years after the founding. When disputes arose during the Civil War over whether state legislatures could permit absent Union soldiers to vote by mail despite in-person voting requirements in state constitutions, state supreme courts split on the question. The U.S. Supreme Court never heard an appeal in these cases.

Not until this century did state judges presume to override federal-election legislation when it violated their notions of how best to conduct “free,” “fair” or “equal” elections, in litigation brought mostly by Democrats. The Pennsylvania Supreme Court, for instance, in 2018 imposed its own congressional redistricting plan (drawn in secret) and held in 2020 that a Tuesday statutory ballot-receipt deadline could become a Friday deadline, viewing Friday as more “free” and “equal” than Tuesday.

The Moore plaintiffs cite Supreme Court precedents that read “the legislature” to mean “the state’s lawmaking process.” In Smiley v. Holm (1932), the justices held that a congressional redistricting plan didn’t take legal effect without the governor’s signature because the governor had “a part in the making of state laws” through the veto power. In Arizona State Legislature v. Arizona Independent Redistricting Commission (2015), the court approved of an independent redistricting commission adopted in a ballot initiative by the people as citizen-legislators.

Yet neither of these cases read the word “legislature” as a mere synonym for “state.” While the former term may be broader than state houses and senates, it is narrow enough to encompass only those people and institutions involved in making laws. The job of North Carolina’s courts is to interpret the laws; they have no role in the legislative process.

The Moore plaintiffs also argue that Election Clause legislation is subject to state-court review because Congress is subject to federal judicial review when it acts under the Elections Clause to “make or alter” congressional election laws. That’s a faulty analogy. Acts of Congress are always subject to review for compliance with the U.S. Constitution, but never under state constitutions. The U.S. Constitution’s Supremacy Clause privileges the Constitution over federal statutes and federal statutes over all state laws, including state constitutions. Importantly, that clause defines “the laws of the United States” as those “made in pursuance” of “this Constitution,” which includes the Elections Clause and its delegation to “the Legislature” of each state. By logical consequence, the U.S. Constitution constrains state legislatures exercising their authority under the Elections Clause, but state constitutions don’t.

The Moore plaintiffs also make political arguments. They contend that a plain-text reading of the Elections Clause would be “damaging for American democracy.” Legal commentators pillory state legislatures as partisan bodies and lionize state courts as guardians of democracy—even in states like North Carolina and Pennsylvania, where judges are selected in partisan elections. They also insist that it would jeopardize minority voting rights, which are protected under federal law that won’t be affected by Moore.

The core of American democracy is rule by the people through their elected representatives—not by judges, whether elected or appointed. Legislation can be good, and court decisions can be bad, as easily as the reverse. No one would contend that legislation permitting deployed Union soldiers to vote in federal elections was harmful to democracy, yet fidelity to the Elections Clause made that possible in some states while a theory of state-court supremacy disfranchised them in others. Those who loudly profess the need to “save” democracy are dead-set against it when it stands in the way of their partisan objectives.

Mr. Rivkin served at the Justice Department and the White House Counsel’s Office in the Reagan and George H.W. Bush administrations. Mr. Grossman is a senior legal fellow at the Buckeye Institute. Both practice appellate and constitutional law in Washington. They filed an amicus brief on behalf of state legislators supporting Moore challengers.

Source: https://www.wsj.com/articles/judges-arent-part-of-the-legislature-supreme-court-gerrymandering-redistricting-partisan-map-sue-constitution-11670351278

By David B. Rivkin, Jr., and Andrew M. Grossman

April 24, 2022, in the Wall Street Journal

Pennsylvania lawmakers in 2019 decided to allow mail-in voting for the first time. They enacted a statute providing that “a completed mail-in ballot must be received in the office of the county board of elections no later than eight o’clock P.M. on the day of the primary or election.” In 2020 the state Democratic Party went to court, arguing that in light of the Covid pandemic, the deadline “results in an as-applied infringement” of the right to vote.

The Democrat-dominated Pennsylvania Supreme Court—its members are chosen in partisan elections—sided with the party and ordered a deadline extension, even as it acknowledged the statutory language was clear and unambiguous. The U.S. Supreme Court declined to hear an appeal, so the 2020 election was conducted under this and other new, judge-imposed rules.

Usually there’s no reason for the high court to review a state-court decision about state law. But election law is different. The U.S. Constitution mandates that state legislatures make the laws governing federal elections for Congress and the presidency. The Pennsylvania ruling was therefore unconstitutional. But the justices in Washington, perhaps chastened by the enduring political controversy over Bush v. Gore (2000), seem reluctant to take up such cases close to an election. Fortunately, they will soon have an opportunity to address the issue and to avert the possibility of an electoral meltdown in 2024.

Pennsylvania wasn’t alone in 2020. Faced with Republican control of many state legislatures, the Democrats and their allies took advantage of the pandemic to upend that year’s voting process. Longstanding wish-list items like near-universal voting by mail, ballot “harvesting,” drop boxes, extended deadlines, and loosened identification and signature-match requirements came to pass in much of the country, often by state court order.

The pandemic disruption may be behind us, but litigation over election rules continues. One reason is the success of the Democrats’ 2020 efforts, which their current cases treat as setting a new legal baseline. Returning to ordinary pre-pandemic procedures, they claim, amounts to unlawful “voter suppression.”

But there’s another reason for the state-court litigation explosion: redistricting after the 2020 Census. If state judges are willing to second-guess voting laws, why not the maps too? New maps are often litigated, but what’s different this time is the number of cases asking courts to toss out alleged partisan gerrymanders. The U.S. Supreme Court closed the door to such claims under the federal Constitution in Rucho v. Common Cause (2019), reasoning that there was no “clear, manageable, and politically neutral” standard for courts to apply. The same objection applies to suits brought under state law, but Rucho didn’t address that question.

So they proliferated. Many states where Democrats could pick up House seats with a different map have faced lawsuits based on open-ended state constitutional provisions, such as North Carolina’s proclaiming “all elections shall be free.” Several states’ top courts have tossed out legislature-enacted maps; the North Carolina justices even authorized a lower court to hire its own mapmakers. Republicans won state-court decisions against Democratic gerrymanders in Maryland and New York state.

None of this passes constitutional muster. State courts can interpret and apply laws governing federal elections and consider challenges to them under federal law, including the Constitution. But they have no authority to strike those laws down under state constitutions, let alone a freestanding power to contrive their own voting rules and congressional maps. The U.S. Constitution often assigns powers and duties to the “states” generally, but Article I’s Elections Clause directs that the “times, places and manner” of conducting congressional elections shall “be prescribed in each state by the legislature thereof,” unless overridden by Congress. The Electors Clause similarly vests the “manner” of choosing presidential electors in “the legislature.”

In McPherson v. Blacker (1892), the U.S. Supreme Court recognized that the Electors Clause “leaves it to the legislature exclusively to define the method” of choosing electors and that this power “cannot be taken from them or modified by their state constitutions.” In State Legislature v. Arizona Independent Redistricting Commission (2015), it held that “redistricting is a legislative function, to be performed in accordance with the State’s prescriptions for lawmaking.”

Still, it’s no wonder plaintiffs and state judges have felt emboldened to buck these limitations. The decision of a state supreme court can be appealed only to the U.S. Supreme Court, which has shied away from such cases. Around the same time the justices declined to hear the 2020 Pennsylvania case, they turned back a request to block North Carolina officials from altering legislatively enacted mail-in ballot deadlines. This year, they denied emergency requests to block judge-made maps in North Carolina and Pennsylvania from being used in November.

Election-law cases present unique timing considerations, given the potentially disruptive consequences of changing laws or maps with an election approaching. When courts make changes weeks before a filing deadline or Election Day, the justices’ ability to right the wrong is severely constrained. There’s rarely a serious basis to press the issue after votes have been cast. Those circumstances apply in most election-law cases.

But unlike state-court orders meddling with voting procedures, which typically apply to one election only, congressional maps remain in place until they’re altered, which usually isn’t for a decade. So there’s no timing issue to prevent the court from hearing a redistricting case.

Justices Samuel Alito, Clarence Thomas and Neil Gorsuch dissented from last month’s denial of the North Carolina stay application, arguing that the case was a good vehicle to consider the power of state courts to rework federal-election laws. Justice Brett Kavanaugh wrote separately to say that the court should take a case raising the issue, but this one came too close to the 2022 election. North Carolina’s House speaker has petitioned the court to take the case in its next term. If it does, a decision would likely come next summer, nearly a year and a half before the 2024 election.

The court’s failure to resolve this issue could spell catastrophe. If the 2024 presidential vote is close in decisive states, the result will be an onslaught of litigation combining all the worst features of the 2000 and 2020 election controversies. The court’s precedents in this area all point toward legislature supremacy but leave the door cracked enough for canny litigants, abetted by state judges, to shove it open and seize electoral advantage. To avoid a constitutional crisis, the justices need to articulate with clarity that state courts can’t rely on state constitutions or their own judicial power to alter either congressional redistricting maps or voting rules in federal elections.

Mr. Rivkin served at the Justice Department and the White House Counsel’s Office in the Reagan and George H.W. Bush administrations. Mr. Grossman is an adjunct scholar at the Cato Institute. Both practice appellate and constitutional law in Washington.

Source: https://www.wsj.com/articles/how-to-avert-a-2024-election-disaster-supreme-court-mail-in-ballot-drop-box-covid-election-rules-pennsylvania-new-york-north-carolina-11650820394

By David B. Rivkin, Jr., and Andrew M. Grossman

February 28, 2021, in the Wall Street Journal

Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson is known as a capable, diligent and collegial jurist. Hers isn’t the straightforward ascent of most Supreme Court nominees. After a clerkship with Justice Stephen Breyer, she spent a decade as what she called a “professional vagabond”—a junior litigator at a Washington firm; an associate of Kenneth Feinberg, the lawyer known for administering compensation funds for victims of terrorism and other disasters; an assistant special counsel for the Sentencing Commission. She would be the first justice to have served as a public defender. One gets the reassuring sense that, like Clarence Thomas, Judge Jackson hasn’t had her sights trained on a Supreme Court nomination since law school.

The same could be said of Judge Jackson’s time on the bench. As a federal trial court judge in the District of Columbia (2013-21), she oversaw a docket consisting largely of run-of-the-mill employment disputes, contract cases, freedom-of-information actions, criminal prosecutions and the like. Her opinions are generally workmanlike, making it easy to discern the rare case that inspired her passion.

At the top of that list is her decision ordering then-President Trump’s former White House counsel Don McGahn to testify before a House committee investigating purported Russian interference with the 2016 election. Judge Jackson rejected out of hand Mr. Trump’s assertion of a kind of immunity from testimony recognized by the courts for well over a century. “Presidents are not kings,” she wrote. “This means that they do not have subjects, bound by loyalty or blood, whose destiny they are entitled to control.”

The decision rejects—and describes as “strident”—the government’s argument that parties generally need authorization from Congress to bring suit in federal court. Congress did authorize suits over Senate subpoenas, but not House suits. What may seem an arcane procedural point speaks volumes: Much judicial mischief has involved courts appointing themselves to exercise power and impose liability in the absence of any law. Judge Jackson’s rationale, echoing those of many Warren and Burger court decisions, is that the Constitution empowers courts to vindicate “intrinsic rights.”

Also revealing is Judge Jackson’s decision blocking a Trump policy expanding eligibility for “expedited removal” to aliens who have been in the country illegally for up to two years. The statute gives the Homeland Security Department “sole and unreviewable discretion” over expedited removal, which should give the courts nothing to review. Judge Jackson asserted that although the policy itself was unreviewable, she could pass judgment on the “manner” in which the agency made it. She found it lacking based on the agency’s failure to engage in notice-and-comment rulemaking and its failure to consider adequately the “downsides of adopting a policy that, in many respects, could significantly impact people’s everyday lives in many substantial, tangible, and foreseeable ways”—which would seem to be a consideration of policy, not manner. The U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit reversed this ruling.

Judge Jackson was also reversed in a case in which she sided with federal-employee unions challenging presidential directives to streamline collective-bargaining terms, limit time spent on union business during work hours, and make it easier to fire employees for misconduct or unacceptable performance. Her decision bends over backward to excuse the unions from the requirement that they bring disputes to the Federal Labor Relations Authority before going to court, and the D.C. Circuit reversed it on that basis. But her take on the merits also raises concerns. In her view, the government’s general duty to bargain and negotiate “in good faith” precludes the government from taking topics off the bargaining table (like the availability of grievance proceedings for outright employee misconduct). She acknowledged that position went well beyond the governing precedent. While that would be a boon to the unions, it would disable presidential control of the federal workforce to account for changing circumstances.

Since joining the D.C. Circuit in June 2021, Judge Jackson has handed down only two opinions on the merits, both in the past month. The first, in another federal-union case, is notable. Siding again with the union, Judge Jackson rejected an FLRA decision holding that collective bargaining is required only for workplace changes that have a “substantial impact” on conditions of employment, as opposed to the much lower “de minimis” standard that had previously prevailed. The opinion concludes that the agency failed to explain adequately its adoption of the new standard—a holding that rests on what legal scholar Jonathan Adler called an “erroneous and unduly strict” application of Supreme Court precedent imposing a light burden on agencies changing their policy positions. They need merely “display awareness” of the change and identify “good reasons for the new policy.” To this, Judge Jackson’s opinion adds the requirement, which the Supreme Court had rejected, that the agency show the new policy to be better than the old one.

After reviewing so many of Judge Jackson’s judicial opinions, we have no doubt of her capabilities. We can’t discern whether she has any cognizable judicial philosophy that would guide her approach to the sort of fraught legal questions that the Supreme Court confronts term after term. Her loudest advocates are confident that she’ll serve them well, and her record supports that view. With 50 Democratic senators, that may be enough.

Mr. Rivkin served at the Justice Department and the White House Counsel’s Office in the Reagan and George H.W. Bush administrations. Mr. Grossman is an adjunct scholar at the Cato Institute. Both practice appellate and constitutional law in Washington.

Source: https://www.wsj.com/articles/ketanji-brown-jackson-judicial-record-supreme-court-nominee-public-defender-dc-circuit-biden-11646001770

By David B. Rivkin Jr. and Andrew M. Grossman

Jan. 6, 2022, in the Wall Street Journal

Hours after President Biden’s Sept. 9 speech announcing a series of vaccine mandates for private-sector employees, his chief of staff, Ron Klain, retweeted an MSNBC anchor’s quip that wielding workplace-safety regulation to force vaccinations was “the ultimate work-around.” Congress has never enacted a law requiring American civilians to be vaccinated—assuming it even has the constitutional authority to do so, which is doubtful. The Supreme Court hears arguments Friday on two of the mandates, which are likely to meet the same fate as other recent attempts to circumvent Congress that the courts have rejected.

The Constitution vests the power to make laws in Congress and charges the president with the duty to execute them. That’s what many in Washington derisively call the “high school civics class” model of government. It’s slow, it’s cumbersome, it rarely approves measures that don’t enjoy widespread public support, and it forces compromise, moderation and tailoring of policies to address the circumstances of a vast and varied nation. The temptation of avoiding it via executive fiat is obvious.

All it seems to take is clever lawyering. The U.S. Code is littered with broadly worded laws, made all the more capacious by judicial deference to agencies’ interpretations of them. Rather than dutifully carry out Congress’s design, a president can set his own policy and then scour the statute books for language that can be contorted to authorize it. In a 2001 Harvard Law Review article, then- Prof. Elena Kagan called the practice “presidential administration.” President Obama put it more plainly when he faced congressional resistance to his agenda: “I’ve got a pen to take executive actions where Congress won’t.”

But it isn’t quite that easy. The Clean Power Plan, Mr. Obama’s signature climate policy, set rigid and unattainable emission limitations for fossil-fuel power plants to force them out of operation and transform the energy market. It relied on an adventuresome interpretation of an obscure provision of the Clean Air Act. In 2016 the Supreme Court blocked it from taking effect, and the Trump administration later repealed it. (We represented Oklahoma in the litigation.)

Mr. Obama’s immigration-reform measures—also taken in the face of congressional opposition—suffered a similar fate. Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals—which allows illegal aliens who were brought to the U.S. as children to work and avoid deportation—remains in legal limbo nearly a decade after it was established, following setbacks in the courts. Its counterpart for parents of U.S. citizens and permanent residents was enjoined before it took force.

Mr. Biden has had a taste of defeat himself, in a case that prefigures the mandate challenges. After Congress declined to extend the Trump administration’s nationwide eviction moratorium, the Biden administration acted on its own, relying on a 1944 statute authorizing the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention to undertake clearly delineated disease-prevention measures like fumigation and pest extermination. The justices, however, found it unthinkable that Congress had intended to confer on CDC so “breathtaking” an authority: “We expect Congress to speak clearly when authorizing an agency to exercise powers of vast economic and political significance.”

In other words, loose language in old laws isn’t enough to support a presidential power grab. Yet that’s all the support the administration has been able to muster for the vaccination mandates. The Occupational Safety and Health Administration mandate forcibly enlists all companies with 100 or more employees to administer a vaccination-or-testing requirement that reaches nearly 85 million employees. It relies on a narrow provision addressing workplace-specific hazards that has never been used to require vaccination. The mandate for Medicare and Medicaid providers (covering 10.3 million workers) rests on general provisions authorizing regulations necessary to administer those programs—which, again, have never been used to require vaccinations. None of these statutes contain even a hint that Congress authorized any agency to administer broad-based vaccination mandates touching millions of Americans.

Although the mandates are flawed in other ways, their lack of clear congressional authorization is the most striking defect. Excessive judicial deference to agencies’ statutory interpretations is what enabled Mr. Obama’s “I’ve got a pen” agenda and its revival under Mr. Biden. The result has been to distort the entire federal lawmaking apparatus. Members of Congress now lobby the executive branch to make law through regulation rather than legislate themselves. Agencies enact major policies that have the durability of a presidential term before they’re reversed. And the president would sooner blame the courts for legal defeats than admit he lacks the power to do his allies’ bidding.

The courts share blame for this state of affairs, having lost sight of the basic separation-of-powers principles that should guide questions of agencies’ statutory authority. A decision rejecting the vaccination mandates because they weren’t clearly authorized by Congress would serve as a shot across the bow signaling that the work-around era is over.

Mr. Rivkin served at the Justice Department and the White House Counsel’s Office in the Reagan and George H.W. Bush administrations. Mr. Grossman is an adjunct scholar at the Cato Institute. Both practice appellate and constitutional law in Washington.

Source: https://www.wsj.com/articles/end-of-work-arounds-biden-executive-order-vaccine-mandate-covid-omicron-supreme-court-11641505106