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

20 February 2023 in the Wall Street Journal

Headlines last week claimed that the Congressional Budget Office had warned the U.S. “could default on its debt” as early as July if Congress didn’t raise the statutory debt limit. What the CBO director actually said was that “the government would have to delay making payments for some activities, default on its debt obligations, or both.” In reality, the U.S. can’t default on its debt.

Section 4 of the 14th Amendment is unequivocal on that point: “The validity of the public debt of the United States, authorized by law, . . . shall not be questioned.” This provision was adopted to ensure that the federal debts incurred to fight the Civil War couldn’t be dishonored by a Congress that included members from the former Confederate states.

The Public Debt Clause isn’t limited to Civil War debts. As the Supreme Court held in Perry v. U.S. (1935), it covers all sovereign federal debt, past, present and future. The case resulted from Congress’s decision during the Great Depression to begin paying federal bonds in currency, including those that promised payment in gold. Bondholders brought an action in the Court of Claims demanding payment in currency equal to the current gold value of the notes. The justices concluded that Congress had violated the Public Debt Clause and that its reference to “the validity of the public debt” was broad enough that it “embraces whatever concerns the integrity of the public obligations.”

That means the federal government can’t legally default. The Constitution commands that creditors be paid. If they aren’t, they can sue for relief, and the government will lose and pay up.

Those who warn of default confuse debt payments with other spending obligations. “A failure on the part of the United States to meet any obligation, whether it’s to debt holders, to members of our military or to Social Security recipients, is effectively a default,” Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen said in January.

That’s nonsense. Authorized and even appropriated spending isn’t “the public debt.” For constitutional purposes, promised benefits from Social Security, Medicare and other entitlements aren’t even property, as the Supreme Court held in Flemming v. Nestor (1960), and Congress has as much authority to reduce them as to increase them. When lawmakers were drafting the 14th Amendment, they revised Section 4’s language to replace the term “obligations” with “debts.” If the Treasury ran out of money, the constitutional obligation to pay bondholders would trump all statutory obligations to spend.

Ms. Yellen also said that “Treasury’s systems have all been built to pay all of our bills when they’re due and on time, and not to prioritize one form of spending over another.” But as the Journal has reported, department officials conceded in 2011 that the government’s fiscal machinery certainly could prioritize payments to bondholders, and the Federal Reserve prepared for such a contingency. There’s no question enough money would be available: The government collects roughly $450 billion a month in tax revenue, more than enough to cover the $55 billion or so in monthly debt service.

These basic facts should inform decisions by credit-rating agencies in establishing the U.S. government’s creditworthiness. Those agencies have traditionally acted favorably when heavily indebted countries have significantly cut public spending rather than default on their debt.

Like Ulysses binding himself to the mast, the Public Debt Clause ties the government’s hands in a way that ultimately serves its interests. Around the world, public defaults are ubiquitous. Since 1960, 147 governments, including some Western democracies, have defaulted—many repeatedly—on their sovereign debt. The U.S. isn’t among them, in large part because of the Constitution’s restriction, buttressed by the rule of law. That’s why the nation is able to borrow so easily, and so much, at such favorable rates. If the Biden administration and other default doomsayers convince the world that U.S. debt isn’t secure, they will drive up the cost of borrowing—at least until the courts set things straight.

Rather than issue baseless warnings of default, the Treasury should tout the Public Debt Clause as a reason why investments in U.S. bonds are rock solid and entail no meaningful risk of default. That could help secure more-favorable credit terms for Treasury instruments than those paid by other Western countries. The strategy is well worth pursuing, given the sharp increase in rates at which Treasury is currently selling its benchmark 10-year notes—from 2% to 3.6% over a single year—resulting in a major escalation in U.S. debt-servicing obligations.

The real risk we face is out-of-control federal spending, not default. But spending cuts and tax hikes are politically unpopular. That leaves borrowing, which explains the recurring tumult over the debt ceiling. How the U.S. covers its spending tab is a debate worth having, as is whether that tab should be so high. Fear-mongering about default is a way to avoid these debates and avoid confronting the hard choices we face as a result of decades’ worth of overspending.

Those who vote against raising the debt ceiling will take a political risk, perhaps a substantial one, as payments many Americans reasonably anticipate may not arrive. Whether to proceed with this strategy if the Biden administration persists in refusing to accept any deal on future federal spending is a difficult question. But it should be debated honestly, unclouded by specious warnings of default.

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/default-on-u-s-debt-is-impossible-deficit-treasury-cbo-janet-yellen-supreme-court-constitution-public-debt-clause-federal-reserve-328dafe5

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

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

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

August 1^st, 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

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

By David B. Rivkin, Jr., and Jennifer L. Mascott

25 June 2022 in the Wall Street Journal

The most anxiously awaited Supreme Court decision in decades is also the least surprising. An act of institutional sabotage leaked Justice Samuel Alito’s draft opinion in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization nearly eight weeks in advance. On Friday a five-justice majority definitively overruled Roe v. Wade (1973) and Planned Parenthood v. Casey (1992), affirming states’ authority to regulate abortion. In so doing, the court reclaimed its legitimate constitutional role and signaled a willingness to re-examine precedents that strayed across the line between law and policy or misconstrued important constitutional provisions.

But the draft opinion’s leak damaged the court, which requires the justices to collaborate in confidence. The leaker’s purpose seems obvious: a last-ditch effort to mobilize public opinion and activist protesters in hope of intimidating the justices into rethinking their position.

This breach was shocking but probably shouldn’t have been surprising. In the past several decades, and particularly since President Trump began appointing justices, the court has faced mounting opposition, including pointed threats against individual justices by members of Congress. Supreme Court nominations, especially by Republican presidents, have become ideological and partisan wars, sometimes featuring ugly uncorroborated allegations of personal misconduct. Sending mobs to threaten justices and their families at home was only the latest escalation.

These attacks on the court are part of a concerted campaign to undermine the legitimacy of American institutions and norms and the Constitution itself. The court’s most vociferous critics either don’t understand its proper role or, more likely, reject it. This was evident in the national debate over the leaked draft of Justice Alito’s opinion, which focused entirely on the policy and political implications of overturning Roe rather than its legal basis.

In fact, Dobbs imposes no policy. It simply states that abortion is not among those individual rights protected by the federal Constitution. The result is that this contentious issue has been returned to the state legislatures, which had primary responsibility for setting abortion policy until the court imposed its own views on the country in 1973.

It was at that time, and not today, that the justices overstepped their boundaries and ensured that the court would become the focus of political contention for half a century. Dobbs belatedly corrects that error by recognizing that the federal judiciary’s constitutional role is merely to decide cases and controversies, based upon the established tenets of law grounded in the Constitution, federal statutes and common law. Policy decisions properly belong to the elected branches of federal and state government.

Congress’s approval ratings are abysmally low, as are President Biden’s, and some critics have claimed the justices should be concerned that the Supreme Court’s ratings are declining too. But the federal judiciary is a countermajoritarian institution. The court does its most important work when it renders decisions that are unpopular but legally correct.

It bears emphasizing that Dobbs’s detractors lob objections that don’t reflect the true nature of the opinion. They claim the justices have shown a disregard for stare decisis, the doctrine of respecting precedent. In fact, the decision relies on the precedent in Washington v. Glucksberg (1997), which concluded that there is no constitutional grounding for any claimed right that is neither enumerated in the Constitution nor deeply rooted in the nation’s history and tradition.

Dobbs also marks a path toward restoring the constitutionally prescribed diffusion of powers among governmental branches, undergirded by a system of checks and balances. This uniquely American structure of government is the primary safeguard of individual liberty.

In the coming years, the court will face a series of momentous opportunities to perform its constitutional responsibilities. It will be called on to continue re-examining Congress’s authority to dictate state policy by attaching strings to funding measures. And in a series of cases over the past 30 years, the justices have issued rulings restoring some of the proper balance between the federal government and the states by reaffirming that there are limits on Congress’s authority to regulate interstate and foreign commerce. Those limits may now be tested depending on whether Congress decides to refederalize abortion by legislation either requiring or limiting its availability.

The court will also face key questions involving the relationship between Congress and the executive branch, such as the permissibility of broad congressional delegations of policy-making power to regulatory agencies and statutory limitations on the president’s constitutional duty to manage federal bureaucracies.

The extent to which executive agencies can adjudicate matters involving significant private-property and liberty interests without close judicial supervision is another question that the court likely will revisit. The justices are repeatedly being asked to resolve questions about whether agencies have overstepped their statutory authority to regulate, particularly in areas involving major policy questions. In the oft-repeated words of Chief Justice John Marshall : “It is emphatically the province and duty of the Judicial Department to say what the law is.” The burgeoning federal bureaucracy too often arrogates this power to itself, often overlooking statutory and constitutional constraints.

The Supreme Court’s legitimacy therefore is of utmost importance. The decision in Dobbs suggests a majority committed to the court’s proper role, which is to decide cases independent of political and popular winds.

Mr. Rivkin practices appellate and constitutional law in Washington. Ms. Mascott is an assistant professor at Antonin Scalia Law School and a former clerk for Judge Brett Kavanaugh and Justice Clarence Thomas.

Source: https://www.wsj.com/articles/supreme-court-reclaims-legitimacy-abortion-roe-v-wade-dobbs-v-jackson-women-health-reproductive-rights-life-originalism-justice-alito-11656084197