The NRA vs. the Censorship ‘Mob’

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

December 27, 2022, in the Wall Street Journal

It’s the classic threat of B-movie mobsters: Nice business you got there, it’d be a shame if something happened to it. Government shouldn’t operate like that, but it too often does, sometimes to evade the Constitution’s limits on its power. A recent decision by the Second U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals upheld the practice and provided a road map for officials to circumvent the First Amendment’s protection for freedom of speech.

Maria Vullo led the New York State Department of Financial Services, which has broad power to regulate almost every major financial player in the U.S. After the February 2018 school shooting in Parkland, Fla., Ms. Vullo and then-Gov. Andrew Cuomo issued a press release stating that the department would “urge” the insurers, banks and companies it regulates “to review any relationships they may have with the National Rifle Association” for “reputational risk.”

The goal was to punish the NRA for its gun-rights advocacy. The press release quoted Ms. Vullo as saying that corporations need to “lead the way” on “positive social change . . . to minimize the chance” of future shootings. “DFS urges all insurance companies and banks doing business in New York to join the companies that have already discontinued their arrangements with the NRA.”

Ms. Vullo followed through with official guidance to regulated entities. Citing “the social backlash against the National Rifle Association” and society’s “responsibility to act,” the guidance directed insurers and banks to evaluate the “reputational risks” of “dealings with the NRA or similar gun promotion organizations.”

Behind the scenes, Ms. Vullo was pressuring senior executives of the insurance syndicate Lloyd’s of London. In 2017 she had launched an investigation of insurers that formed partnerships with the NRA to sell “affinity” insurance, including gun-owner policies. The basis was twofold: technical violations of disclosure rules and alleged violation of state law by covering losses, including criminal-defense costs, even when policyholders were found to have illegally discharged their weapons.

The NRA alleges in a lawsuit that, in a meeting with Lloyd’s, Ms. Vullo acknowledged that these problems were widespread in the marketplace but made clear that her focus was the NRA policies. The key to minimizing liability, she emphasized, was joining the department’s efforts to combat the availability of firearms by weakening the NRA.

Lloyd’s got the message. Despite its reputation for insuring even the most controversial risks, it understood that its regulator considered working with one of the nation’s most broadly supported advocacy organizations to be off-limits. Lloyd’s publicly announced that it was terminating all business with the NRA. It signed a consent decree with DFS permanently barring it from participating in any insurance program with the NRA—rather than the usual remedy of bringing policies into compliance and possibly paying a fine. The decree didn’t cover the non-NRA policies that ran afoul of the same New York laws. The NRA says its corporate insurer refused to renew its policy because it feared similar reprisals after seeing DFS target Lloyd’s and another NRA-affinity insurer.

In Bantam Books v. Sullivan (1963), officials from the Rhode Island Commission to Encourage Morality in Youth sent letters to booksellers informing them that it had identified certain books and magazines as “objectionable” and noting its power to recommend obscenity prosecutions. The U.S. Supreme Court held that this “informal censorship” violated the First Amendment. Although the government didn’t seize or ban any books, it “deliberately set about to achieve the suppression” of protected speech.

So did Ms. Vullo. As the Second Circuit observed, she “plainly favored gun control over gun promotion” and therefore “sought to convince DFS-regulated entitles to sever business relationships with gun promotion groups.” Yet the judges concluded that was reasonable.

Their logic is circular: The NRA’s advocacy led to a “backlash” that could “affect the New York financial markets,” given that “a business’s response to social issues can directly affect its financial stability in this age of enhanced corporate social responsibility.” So Ms. Vullo’s entreaties to drop the NRA weren’t threats, but actions “to protect DFS-regulated entities and New York residents from financial harm and to preserve stability in the state’s financial system.”

It’s fanciful to suggest that selling insurance to, or in partnership with, the NRA poses a threat to New York’s financial system. More important, the Constitution’s protections don’t amount to much if government officials can censor disfavored opinions simply by labeling them “reputational risk.” And even if such risk is real, empowering government officials to engage in censorship on that basis creates a heckler’s veto over controversial speech: Gin up enough online outrage or disagreement by officials or purported experts, and you can justify censoring anything or anyone.

The Biden White House successfully pressed Twitter to shut down accounts, including journalist Alex Berenson’s , for bucking the expert consensus on Covid vaccines. The FBI and Twitter cooperated in 2020 to censor humorous tweets about the election and voting. The Cato Institute’s Will Duffield has identified 62 recent instances of government officials making specific demands to censor speech on social-media platforms. This kind of “jawboning” by government officials usually occurs in the shadows and rarely comes to light. It can be difficult to identify when official encouragement crosses the line into coercion.

The Supreme Court will have to take up the question sooner or later, and an NRA appeal would present a strong opportunity to do so. The DFS has broad discretionary power to regulate industries on which almost everybody depends. That makes it all the more crucial to ensure that it respects the Constitution.

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/articles/the-nra-vs-the-censorship-mob-national-rifle-association-weapons-shootings-rules-defense-banks-insurers-11672176818

Judges Aren’t Part of the ‘Legislature’

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

The Trump Warrant Had No Legal Basis

By David B. Rivkin Jr. and Lee A. Casey

August 22, 2022, in the Wall Street Journal

Was the Federal Bureau of Investigation justified in searching Donald Trump’s residence at Mar-a-Lago? The judge who issued the warrant for Mar-a-Lago has signaled that he is likely to release a redacted version of the affidavit supporting it. But the warrant itself suggests the answer is likely no—the FBI had no legally valid cause for the raid.

The warrant authorized the FBI to seize “all physical documents and records constituting evidence, contraband, fruits of crime, or other items illegally possessed in violation of 18 U.S.C. §§793, 2071, or 1519” (emphasis added). These three criminal statutes all address the possession and handling of materials that contain national-security information, public records or material relevant to an investigation or other matters properly before a federal agency or the courts.

The materials to be seized included “any government and/or Presidential Records created between January 20, 2017, and January 20, 2021”—i.e., during Mr. Trump’s term of office. Virtually all the materials at Mar-a-Lago are likely to fall within this category. Federal law gives Mr. Trump a right of access to them. His possession of them is entirely consistent with that right, and therefore lawful, regardless of the statutes the FBI cites in its warrant.

Those statutes are general in their text and application. But Mr. Trump’s documents are covered by a specific statute, the Presidential Records Act of 1978. It has long been the Supreme Court position, as stated in Morton v. Mancari (1974), that “where there is no clear intention otherwise, a specific statute will not be controlled or nullified by a general one, regardless of the priority of enactment.” The former president’s rights under the PRA trump any application of the laws the FBI warrant cites.

The PRA dramatically changed the rules regarding ownership and treatment of presidential documents. Presidents from George Washington through Jimmy Carter treated their White House papers as their personal property, and neither Congress nor the courts disputed that. In Nixon v. U.S. (1992), the U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia held that Richard Nixon had a right to compensation for his presidential papers, which the government had retained under the Presidential Recordings and Materials Preservation Act of 1974 (which applied only to him). “Custom and usage evidences the kind of mutually explicit understandings that are encompassed within the constitutional notion of ‘property’ protected by the Fifth Amendment,” the judges declared.

The PRA became effective in 1981, at the start of Ronald Reagan’s presidency. It established a unique statutory scheme, balancing the needs of the government, former presidents and history. The law declares presidential records to be public property and provides that “the Archivist of the United States shall assume responsibility for the custody, control, and preservation of, and access to, the Presidential records.”

The PRA lays out detailed requirements for how the archivist is to administer the records, handle privilege claims, make the records public, and impose restrictions on access. Notably, it doesn’t address the process by which a former president’s records are physically to be turned over to the archivist, or set any deadline, leaving this matter to be negotiated between the archivist and the former president.

The PRA explicitly guarantees a former president continuing access to his papers. Those papers must ultimately be made public, but in the meantime—unlike with all other government documents, which are available 24/7 to currently serving executive-branch officials—the PRA establishes restrictions on access to a former president’s records, including a five-year restriction on access applicable to everyone (including the sitting president, absent a showing of need), which can be extended until the records have been properly reviewed and processed. Before leaving office, a president can restrict access to certain materials for up to 12 years.

The only exceptions are for National Archives personnel working on the materials, judicial process, the incumbent president and Congress (in cases of established need) and the former president himself. PRA section 2205(3) specifically commands that “the Presidential records of a former President shall be available to such former President or the former President’s designated representative,” regardless of any of these restrictions.

Nothing in the PRA suggests that the former president’s physical custody of his records can be considered unlawful under the statutes on which the Mar-a-Lago warrant is based. Yet the statute’s text makes clear that Congress considered how certain criminal-law provisions would interact with the PRA: It provides that the archivist is not to make materials available to the former president’s designated representative “if that individual has been convicted of a crime relating to the review, retention, removal, or destruction of records of the Archives.”

Nothing is said about the former president himself, but applying these general criminal statutes to him based on his mere possession of records would vitiate the entire carefully balanced PRA statutory scheme. Thus if the Justice Department’s sole complaint is that Mr. Trump had in his possession presidential records he took with him from the White House, he should be in the clear, even if some of those records are classified.

In making a former president’s records available to him, the PRA doesn’t distinguish between materials that are and aren’t classified. That was a deliberate choice by Congress, as the existence of highly classified materials at the White House was a given long before 1978, and the statute specifically contemplates that classified materials will be present—making this a basis on which a president can impose a 12-year moratorium on public access.

The government obviously has an important interest in how classified materials are kept, whether or not they are presidential records. In this case, it appears that the FBI was initially satisfied with the installation of an additional lock on the relevant Mar-a-Lago storage room. If that was insufficient, and Mr. Trump refused to cooperate, the bureau could and should have sought a less intrusive judicial remedy than a search warrant—a restraining order allowing the materials to be moved to a location with the proper storage facilities, but also ensuring Mr. Trump continuing access. Surely that’s what the government would have done if any other former president were involved.

Messrs. Rivkin and Casey practice appellate and constitutional law in Washington. They served at the Justice Department and the White House Counsel’s Office in the Reagan and George H.W. Bush administrations.

Source: https://www.wsj.com/articles/the-trump-warrant-had-no-legal-basis-mar-a-lago-affidavit-presidential-records-act-archivist-custody-classified-fbi-garland-11661170684

Trump Can’t Be ‘Disqualified’ Over Documents

By David B. Rivkin, Jr., and Lee A. Casey

August 10, 2022, in the Wall Street Journal

The warrant under which federal agents searched Donald Trump’s Florida home hasn’t been made public, but press leaks suggest that it was related to the former president’s suspected mishandling of official documents. That has prompted speculation that Mr. Trump could be prosecuted under a law governing the misuse of federal government documents, which includes a provision for disqualification from federal office. According to this theory, if Mr. Trump is convicted, he would be ineligible to serve a second term as president. It won’t work. The theory is deficient on both statutory and constitutional grounds.

Presidential records were traditionally considered the former president’s personal property. Congress acknowledged this in the Presidential Libraries Act of 1955, which “encouraged”—but didn’t require—ex-presidents to deposit their papers for the benefit of researchers and history.

After President Richard Nixon resigned in August 1974, he struck an agreement with the archivist of the United States to donate his papers, but he reserved the right to destroy certain materials, including some of the infamous Watergate tapes. To prevent this, Congress enacted the Presidential Recordings and Materials Preservation Act of 1974. That law, which applied only to Nixon, required these materials to be secured by the government and ultimately made public under appropriate regulations. It provided for financial compensation to the former president, a further acknowledgment of his property interest in the materials.

The Presidential Records Act of 1978 addressed the handling of later presidents’ papers. The PRA asserts government ownership and control of “presidential records,” as defined in the statute, and requires the archivist to take possession of these records when a president leaves office, to preserve them, and to ensure public access. There are important exceptions—in particular, for qualifying materials designated by a lame-duck president to be held confidential for 12 years after he leaves office. These materials include “confidential communications requesting or submitting advice, between the president and the president’s advisers, or between such advisers.”

The law also directs presidents to “assure that the activities, deliberations, decisions, and policies” reflecting the execution of their office are “adequately documented.” Once created, these records must be preserved and managed, or disposed of, in accordance with the statute. The PRA defines presidential records to include “documentary materials” created or received by the president or his immediate staff in carrying out activities related to his official duties. Presidential records don’t include records of a “purely private or nonpublic character” unrelated to the execution of the office.

Significantly, while the PRA vests the U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia with jurisdiction over any action brought by a former president claiming a violation of his rights or privileges under the act, it establishes no penalties, civil or criminal, for its violation. The statute also guarantees that “presidential records of a former president shall be available to such former president or the former president’s designated representative.”

Other federal statutes may permit the prosecution of people who improperly dispose of presidential records, which are now considered government property. The one of most interest to Mr. Trump’s foes appears to be 18 U.S.C. Section 2071(b), which imposes fines and up to three years’ imprisonment on anyone having custody of records deposited in a “public office” who “willfully and unlawfully” mishandles these records. It provides that on conviction, the defendant “shall forfeit his office and be disqualified from holding any office under the United States.”

But the Constitution forbids that result with respect to the presidency. Even assuming the government could prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Mr. Trump deliberately mishandled government documents knowing this to be a violation of federal statute—a difficult task, since the PRA itself guarantees his access to his presidential records and former presidents are generally entitled to receive classified information—a court couldn’t disqualify him from serving as president.

The Constitution establishes the qualifications for election to the presidency: Only natural-born American citizens over 35 who have been U.S. residents for at least 14 years may serve. The Constitution also provides the only mechanism whereby an otherwise qualified person may be disqualified from becoming president: This penalty can be imposed (by a separate vote of the Senate) on someone who has been impeached and convicted for high crimes and misdemeanors. The proposed application of Section 2071(b) to the presidency would create an additional qualification—the absence of a conviction under that statute—for serving as president. Congress has no power to do that.

In Powell v. McCormack (1969) and U.S. Term Limits Inc. v. Thornton (1995), the Supreme Court decided comparable questions involving the augmentation of constitutionally established qualifications to serve in Congress. In the former case, the House refused to seat a constitutionally qualified and duly elected member, Rep. Adam Clayton Powell Jr. of New York, because it concluded he had diverted House funds to his own use and falsified reports of foreign-currency expenditures. The justices ruled that Powell couldn’t be denied his seat on these grounds, as that would effectively add an extraconstitutional “qualification” for office. That, they concluded, would deprive the people of an opportunity to elect candidates of their choice, contrary to the Constitution’s structure. The court cited Federalist No. 60, in which Alexander Hamilton wrote: “The qualifications of the persons who may choose or be chosen, as has been remarked upon other occasions, are defined and fixed in the Constitution, and are unalterable by the legislature.”

The high court reaffirmed that conclusion in Thornton, which struck down an Arkansas ballot measure imposing term limits on the state’s U.S. representatives and senators. The justices articulated as their “primary thesis” that “if the qualifications for Congress are fixed in the Constitution, then a state-passed measure with the avowed purpose of imposing indirectly such an additional qualification”—in this case, not having already served a specific number of terms—“violates the Constitution.”

Using Section 2071(b) to disqualify Mr. Trump (or anyone else) from serving as president is unsupportable under Powell and Thornton. Such a claim would be far weaker than the one the House made in Powell, as the constitution authorizes each congressional chamber to judge the “qualifications of its own members” but gives Congress no authority over presidential qualifications. The only constitutional means to disqualify a president for wrongdoing is through impeachment and conviction.

If preventing Mr. Trump from running in 2024 was the purpose of the Mar-a-Lago search, the government wasted its time and the taxpayers’ resources.

Messrs. Rivkin and Casey practice appellate and constitutional law in Washington. They served at the Justice Department and the White House Counsel’s Office in the Reagan and George H.W. Bush administrations.

Source: https://www.wsj.com/articles/trump-cant-be-disqualified-over-documents-fbi-mar-a-lago-presidential-records-act-constitution-impeachment-conviction-supreme-court-2024-11660159610

Moore v. Harper and Marc Elias’s Curious Idea of ‘Democracy’

By David B. Rivkin, Jr., and Jason Snead

August 1st, 2022, in the Wall Street Journal

Marc Elias, the leading Democratic election lawyer, complains that “a dangerous theory will have its day in court” this fall. That’s rich—he was instrumental in bringing it there by litigating the case that raises it. But his dire warnings have attracted plenty of support. The headline of a Washington Post op-ed by a trio of legal scholars blares the threat of a “body blow to our democracy.”

Moore v. Harper is the product of a nationwide campaign, led by Mr. Elias, to mow down state election laws that make it easy to vote but hard to cheat. That effort is a large part of the reason the Supreme Court felt the need to weigh in.

After North Carolina gained a House seat in the 2020 census, the state’s Republican-controlled Legislature drew a new congressional map. Mr. Elias and his clients petitioned state courts to toss out that map as unduly partisan in violation of the state constitution—a legal theory the North Carolina Supreme Court had rejected as unworkably open-ended in 2015.

This time, citing a handful of clauses plucked seemingly at random from the North Carolina Constitution, the state supreme court invented a new, judicially enforceable prohibition on so-called partisan gerrymandering. It used this newfound power to toss out the Legislature’s map and replace it with one of its own design, along the lines Mr. Elias’s experts proposed.

Which brings us—and Mr. Elias—to the U.S. Supreme Court. The U.S. Constitution’s Elections Clause provides that the “manner” of conducting congressional elections must be “prescribed in each state by the legislature thereof.” As Justice Samuel Alito has noted, the clause “specifies a particular organ of a state government.” It doesn’t assign this authority to the state as a whole. That necessarily limits the power of state courts and executive-branch officials to override lawmakers’ handiwork.

Until about a decade ago, state legislatures were in the driver’s seat on election laws. But as Republicans took majorities in state capitals around the country, Democrats bowed out of the legislative process, turning to state officials and state courts instead. Through backroom deals, they persuaded election officials to drop ballot-integrity regulations, open up drop boxes, and loosen deadlines. When deal-making didn’t work, they asked state courts to rewrite election laws wholesale, typically based on vague language in state constitutions like the declaration in North Carolina’s constitution that “all elections shall be free.”

The pandemic accelerated this process in 2020. Through settlements and litigation, Mr. Elias and his colleagues wielded a massive budget to sustain a campaign of litigation that forced states to adopt Democratic election-law priorities against the will of the legislature. Covid became an excuse to upend the law, but the end result was widespread chaos driven by ever-shifting rules intended to benefit one side.

Harper v. Hall, as the North Carolina case was styled in state court, was the next logical step. If state courts are willing to draft their own election codes, why not their own maps too? Never mind that years of litigation had proved, as the U.S. Supreme Court observed in Rucho v. Common Cause (2019), another case from North Carolina, that there is no “clear, manageable, and politically neutral” legal standard for partisan-gerrymandering claims.

That was a federal case, so it didn’t address the limits on state judges’ power. Moore gives the justices an opportunity to do so, with respect to voting rules as well as redistricting. The idea that honoring the Constitution’s limits on state judicial power is a threat to democracy is risible. When state legislatures make laws governing federal election law, their power is subject to all the limitations of the U.S. Constitution and federal statutes, including the 15th Amendment and the Voting Rights Act, which prohibit racial discrimination.

The shrillest critics of the appeal in Moore assert that state legislatures simply can’t be trusted and have to be closely supervised by state supreme courts. They point to Donald Trump’s failed attempts to work state legislatures to swing the vote in his favor following the 2020 election, by disregarding the Election Day result and appointing pro-Trump electors. Yet no state legislature did Mr. Trump’s bidding. No state election law on the books today gives state legislatures an open-ended power to disregard the popular vote and appoint presidential electors, and there’s no indication of any serious attempt to enact such a law.

Further, it would violate federal law. Like the Elections Clause, the Electors Clause, which governs presidential elections, gives state legislatures power to set the “manner” of choosing presidential electors. But that power is tempered by Congress’s authority to set “the time of choosing the electors.” Federal law plainly states that presidential electors “shall be appointed” on Election Day. So although a state legislature has broad leeway in setting the rules for the presidential vote, it can’t change the rules, or nullify the voters’ decision, after Election Day. Moore won’t change that.

Moore’s real threat is to partisan election lawfare and the gravy train that the Elias Law Group, 70 attorneys strong, is riding. The real threat to democracy is cynical “voting rights” litigation brought to sway election outcomes and the many ways that it undermines the administration of the vote and public confidence in the electoral process. And what could be fairer or more neutral than following the Constitution, or more democratic than leaving the matter to elected lawmakers?

Mr. Rivkin practices appellate and constitutional law in Washington. He served in the White House Counsel’s Office and Justice Department under Presidents Reagan and George H.W. Bush. Mr. Snead is executive director of the Honest Elections Project.

Source: https://www.wsj.com/articles/marc-elias-curious-idea-of-democracy-moore-v-harper-court-state-judges-election-law-gerrymandering-legislature-11659380162

No More Deference to the Administrative State

By David B. Rivkin, Jr., and Mark Wendell DeLaquil

July 11, 2022, in the Wall Street Journal

In a case last month upholding religious liberty, Justice Neil Gorsuch announced that an old precedent had ceased to be good law: “This Court long ago abandoned Lemon.” One day the Supreme Court may issue a similarly belated death notice for Chevron v. Natural Resources Defense Council, the 1984 ruling that vastly expanded the power of administrative agencies. If so, the beginning of the end will have come on the closing day of this year’s term, when the high court decided West Virginia v. Environmental Protection Agency.

In Chevron, the justices held that when Congress enacts an “ambiguous” statute, courts are obliged to defer to any “reasonable” interpretation offered by an executive-branch agency. The Chevron doctrine assumes that agency personnel have expertise that judges lack and that agencies are more democratic than courts because the former answer to the president. Chevron deference allowed the EPA to set national carbon-dioxide standards, the Transportation Department to prescribe automobile safety features and numerous other agencies and departments to regulate virtually every aspect of American life.

But this approach corroded democratic accountability by freeing lawmakers from the duty to legislate clearly. West Virginia is an important step in returning responsibility for solving the nation’s problems where it belongs, to Congress. It will shape resolution of the key policy issues in the remainder of the Biden administration and beyond.

Under Chevron, as Chief Justice John Roberts noted for the court in West Virginia, the absence of a political consensus to address difficult problems led to undertake extravagant regulatory efforts. Among them were the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s attempting to dictate housing policy, the Occupational Safety and Health Association’s driving vaccination policy, and, in this case, the Environmental Protection Agency’s creating national energy policy by updating the Obama administration’s anti-fossil-fuel Clean Power Plan.

In these cases, the agencies acted outside their expertise and certainly didn’t promote political accountability. The legislative process of political compromise was bypassed and democracy subordinated to government lawyers stalking dusty library shelves in search of vague and outmoded statutes. The West Virginia decision buttressed legislative authority yet led to strident criticism from legislators, dramatizing how comfortable Congress has become in abdicating its responsibility for difficult policy decisions.

Chevron also dramatically weakened the judiciary’s ability to check agencies’ regulatory overreach. Before 1984, the judiciary took a “hard look” approach in assessing the legality of federal regulations. Chevron was more of a rubber stamp. Judges blessed specific regulations and countenanced agency actions that Congress had never authorized. It made a mockery of Chief Justice John Marshall’s declaration in Marbury v. Madison (1803): “It is emphatically the duty of the Judicial Department to say what the law is.”

West Virginia limits Chevron by fleshing out the “major questions doctrine,” a longstanding judicial presumption that when an administrative agency asserts authority over questions of great economic and political significance, it may act only if Congress has clearly authorized it to do so. Or, as the Constitution puts it: “All legislative powers herein granted shall be vested in a Congress of the United States.

West Virginia’s critics focus on its policy impact because its legal merit is so compelling. By proscribing ambiguous congressional delegation where it matters most, the major questions doctrine re-establishes judicial authority and legislative responsibility. Absent a clear statutory delegation of the power to regulate, the executive branch can’t regulate at all. Where statutory language is clear enough to grant regulatory authority, it should eliminate substantial ambiguity about how that authority can be exercised. This effectively strips agencies of much of their regulatory willfulness, compelling them to regulate only as Congress intended. The domain of Chevron deference is limited to filling in the interstitial details of statutes in which Congress has decided the policy stakes.

West Virginia and the major questions doctrine are certain to surface again soon. Take the Securities and Exchange Commission’s proposed climate-change disclosure regulations. The SEC has a statutory directive to protect investors, facilitate capital formation, and maintain the efficient operation of capital markets. It has neither the expertise nor the statutory authority to regulate greenhouse-gas emissions. In light of West Virginia, the SEC ought to withdraw its proposal.

The Federal Trade Commission is contemplating a regulation that, without any clear statutory authority and departing from well-established FTC practices, purports to ban mergers even when no anticompetitive harms are visited on consumers. The Education Department proposes to eliminate basic mandatory procedural due-process requirements, such as a live hearing and cross-examination, in Title IX regulations that govern disciplinary procedures in universities.

Going forward, the first question in any important case concerning agency power is whether Congress actually intended for the agency to be regulating at all, not whether agency attorneys were clever enough to find a vague statute to justify a new rule. The power of the administrative state is certain to recede, bolstering democratic accountability, economic growth and liberty.

Mr. Rivkin was lead outside counsel in the case brought by 27 states challenging the Obama administration’s Clean Power Plan, in which the Supreme Court issued a 2016 stay. Mr. DeLaquil is lead counsel for Westmoreland Mining Holdings, a party to a case the court decided last month with West Virginia v. EPA.

Source: https://www.wsj.com/articles/no-more-deference-to-the-administrative-state-west-virginia-v-epa-chevron-major-questions-john-roberts-regulation-democracy-congress-11657475255