Labor Relationships & and the Legal Vision of 1L Contracts

Sanjukta Paul—

Contracts is more than an area of law; it is a key piece of the vision we lawyers bring to many other areas of law. The 1L Contracts course supplies a foundation-stone of the “pre-analytic vision” with which lawyers will eventually think about many other things, including labor relationships. Labor regulation as such is addressed only in the optional upper-level curriculum, and it is relatively marginalized even there. As a result, many lawyers, notably in the commercial and business sphere, will bring to their dealings with labor issues the contracts “vision.” That vision ultimately tends to erase the law’s deep involvement in constituting labor relationships. It thus tends to furnish apparent justification for the exercise of power by the already-powerful, in pursuit of private ends rather than the public interest, on the stage created and sustained by law.

The specific pre-analytic vision transmitted by the conventional Contracts curriculum is of atomistic individuals contracting at arms’ length. In this vision, any pre-contracting power differentials, including those power differentials that are created or sustained by law, are rendered invisible. In our historical imagination this vision is symbolized by ‘the Lochner Era,’ which was characterized by the frequent judicial invocation of contract principles to either invalidate or undermine democratic attempts to structure labor relations and markets more generally.

But apart from ignoring, for example, “the background distribution of property rights,” this vision also sits uneasily with the present-time legal constitution of labor relationships. Moreover, perhaps because of its foundation in the pre-analytic vision of contracts, commercial law is generally selective about when it chooses to treat labor contracts as “special” on the one hand, or as instances of a more general type on the other. Continue reading

The Public Law of Private Promising, And Not Even That: LPE 101 for Contracts

Noah Zatz—

What would a 1L Contracts course look like from a law and political economy perspective? I can’t claim to have designed my course from the ground up to answer that question—and indeed I am intentionally more eclectic than that. Nonetheless, several of my choices—about how to thematize the material and what to include at all—clearly reflect an LPE approach.

From start to finish, I present Contracts—perhaps the quintessential “private law” topic—as a study in public power. That is among the main reasons to start with remedies (as many Contracts professors do). Ultimately, the question is whether a government institution (a court) will render a judgment and back it up with the threat of publicly authorized violence: seizing property to satisfy a judgment or throwing someone in jail for contemptuously defying a court order. I underline this point on the first day of class by assigning a recent ACLU report on incarceration for nonpayment of private consumer debt. This reading also challenges conventional field boundaries, enabling students to follow a thread of debt and poverty that connects their Contracts class to Ferguson and racialized mass incarceration.

The publicness of Contracts goes beyond the brute fact that it is law. Rather, the field reflects policy judgments about when to make the force of law available to private parties. Although invocations of party intent typically submerge this point, it actually appears on the surface of the most conventional place to start Contracts: the very first section of the Restatement (Second) of Contracts. “A contract is a promise or a set of promises for the breach of which the law gives a remedy, or the performance of which the law in some way recognizes as a duty.”  Well then, when and how does “the law” (speaking for we, the people) choose to transform private promises into legal duties? Continue reading

No Democracy

David Singh Grewal and Jedediah Purdy – 

What would it mean to make economic and political life more democratic? One way toward an answer is by getting more precise about how they are now undemocratic. Avoidance of democracy runs very deep in American law, and perhaps in the modern legal and political order generally. This is so despite the fact that constitutionalism and other forms of legal and political order all rest on claims to democratic legitimacy.

“Democracy” retains the core sense of its Greek root: “the people rule.”  That is, in a democracy it must be true in some real sense that people have authorized the rules, institutions, and multifarious exercises of power that they must live with, and which deeply shape their lives. What would it mean to “reinvent” democracy today—and what would the legal structure for such a democracy look like? In an essay forthcoming in the Yale Law Journal, we explore the answers to this question suggested by a recently published book, The Sleeping Sovereign, by Richard Tuck.

Tuck’s book sheds new light on the relationship between popular sovereignty and constitutional government. He argues that the modern constitution is a unique contribution to the practice of democracy, not because it constrains majorities – the usual picture – but rather because it enables them to act. Contrary to the popular myth that European monarchies exercised the “divine right of kings,” most medieval and early-modern rulers claimed some kind of authorization from “the people” – rooted in history, ongoing consultation among elites who claimed to speak for popular interests, and devotion to the well-being of the land. More or less everyone agreed, though, that it was impossible for large populations to rule themselves collectively in any ongoing way: what the citizens of small city-states of the ancient world had done, especially in Athens, was out of reach in a territory as vast as France or England.

Tuck traces a line of thought that began with sixteenth-century French jurist Jean Bodin and received crucial later formulations from Thomas Hobbes and Jean-Jacques Rousseau – and, more to the point, was understood in practice by the late eighteenth century to be a way of recapturing democratic self-rule in large, complex countries. The heart of the idea was to distinguish everyday rule, which thinkers in this line called “government,” from the decisions that established and authorized the basic form and terms of political control, which they called “sovereignty.” If a people authorized its form of government, its sovereignty was democratic, even if everyday business was carried out by other means – courts, ministers, etc. The great innovation that made this idea real was the written constitution, authorized by direct majority vote (or, less ideally, some other popular procedure such as elected conventions). A constitution contained the decisions of a democratic (i.e., “popular”) sovereign, granting power to the government it created while also shaping and constraining that government.

So far so good: It sounds like the U.S. Constitution, more or less (if you can stomach, for the moment, overlooking how limited the franchise was in most states). But pretty much everyone in this tradition agreed, for very powerful reasons, that sovereignty was democratic only if a people could regularly revisit its fundamental law, either to reauthorize it or to change it. Only if constitutional amendment was a real, live option would it make sense to say that the living had authorized the constitutional regime they were born into, rather than simply inheriting it. In other words, the original conception of constitutional self-rule incorporated both the basic commitment of today’s “originalism” (the democratic authorship of the constitution in the first instance) and the basic commitment of today’s “living constitutionalism” (the regular updating of constitutional authorization, by reaffirmation or change). Popular sovereignty was meaningful only if it included both, and to achieve that a people had to adopt a constitution with a viable procedure for ongoing amendment. Continue reading

International Investment Arbitration in Critical Focus

David Schneiderman – 

How might we come to better understand the complex, multilevel, and interdependent world in which we live? This is a particular challenge for international and global legal scholars whose methods of analysis typically are confined to empirically observable legal phenomena in the form of international conventions, treaties, custom, and the like. In this post, I propose bringing international legal studies into conversation with a particular branch of international political economy (IPE), one that brings both an interdisciplinary and a critical edge to the global study of law.

The field of IPE in the English-speaking world has been described as being divided between two competing schools. A U.S. version emphasizes the testing of scientific models via empirical methods, focusing on state behavior as its unit of analysis. Modeled on ‘hard science,’ the U.S. version adopts a state-centric view. A more ambitious British version aims to be more qualitative and normative, emphasizing society, power, and history. It is this latter version that merits attention from legal scholars. It is a mode of analysis that is more interpretive than narrowly empirical, asking what values are promoted and who benefits from particular institutional arrangements. Susan Strange, one of the founders of the British school, has defined the study of IPE as concerning: ‘the social, political and economic arrangements affecting the global systems of production, exchange and distribution and the mix of values reflected therein. Those arrangements are not divinely ordained, nor are they the fortuitous outcome of blind chance. Rather they are the result of human decisions taken in the context of man-made institutions and sets of self-set rules and customs.’

This is a mode of analysis that will be familiar to critical scholars working in many disciplines, but an IPE approach has the advantage of thinking about contemporary global problems on multiple scales. Critical IPE is ontologically inclined, in other words, to theorize law as interacting with actors operating at various levels. It looks to the ‘complex whole,’ Robert Cox writes, rather than to the separate parts.’ Cox, in his own work, helpfully distinguishes between ‘problem solving’ theory and critical theory. The first has as its object the smooth operational working of international institutions. Such approaches serve ‘particular national, sectional or class interests.’ Problem solving is about managing the world, not changing it. Critical theory within IPE, by contrast, does not take institutions or relations of power for granted. It attends instead to how they arise and change. This is a style of understanding the world that is both multidisciplinary and normative.  It is, as Benjamin Cohen puts it, about ‘making the world a better place.’

Continue reading

Autocracy at Work: Understanding the Gothamist Shut Down

Sharon Block and Benjamin Sachs – 

Last week, billionaire Joe Ricketts abruptly shut down the local news websites Gothamist and DNAinfo.  The closure came a week after the sites’ newsroom employees voted to join Writers Guild East, a union that is the collective bargaining representative for reporters and editorial staff in a rapidly growing number of progressive, on-line media outlets.  Hamilton Nolan, a senior writer for Splinter and a lead organizer for the Writers Guild, made a compelling case in a New York Times op-ed that Ricketts did not shutter the company because of what the union would mean for the sites’ economic prospects. After all, the union hadn’t yet made a single demand. Instead, in Nolan’s words, Ricketts destroyed the company “out of spite.”

dnainfo-and-gothamist-shut-down-one-week-after-editorial-staff-unionizes-wgae-org-campaign

But why do unions infuriate people like Joe Ricketts? Why would Ricketts prefer having no business at all than a unionized business? The answer, we think, is suggested by something Ricketts said during the union’s organizing drive: “As long as it’s my money that’s paying for everything, I intend to be the one making the decisions about the direction of the business.” In other words, Ricketts expects that his financial power buys him the right not just to own a business, but to control his business’ workforce unburdened by the voices and views of that workforce

Unionization is, and always has been, the most effective way that working people can wrest a bit of control back from owners like Ricketts. It operates through the simple logic of collective action: by bargaining together, people increase their leverage and gain a voice in shaping what their work lives are like. Unions move workplaces away from institutions governed autocratically – by those with the ‘money that pays for everything’ – and toward institutions that are governed democratically, by including the insights and opinions of those who do the work. Continue reading