Print Edition
Articles, notes, and symposia pieces published in CLR’s print volumes.
Across the post-Dobbs United States, reports of pregnant people battling infections as severe as sepsis, experiencing hemorrhaging, and suffering from other pregnancy complications in hospital emergency rooms are flooding the news. Because of state abortion bans’ lack of clarity about medical exceptions and the overall chilling effect on abortion care, many patients are being denied the emergency care that they need or are being forced to wait until they are knocking on death’s door before medical staff can treat them. Healthcare professionals who work in states with criminal abortion bans face an impossible scenario that scholars have termed the “double abortion bind”: the impossible choice between, on the one hand, providing patients with emergency lifesaving abortions and facing potential criminal liability for violating their state’s abortion ban and, on the other hand, not providing emergency abortions and potentially losing their patients and facing medical malpractice claims for violating the standard of care. Litigators nationwide are fighting in state courts to clarify the medical exceptions in abortion bans. This Note asks what role tort claims—specifically, medical malpractice suits—can play in the area of emergency abortion access. Can torts realistically provide useful legal recourse for impacted patients and apply new pressure on healthcare industry actors to widen emergency abortion access?
Across the United States, immigrants held in for-profit detention centers participate, willingly or through degrees of coercion, in a work program that pays one dollar per day. For decades, the courts affirmed the legality of this practice and swiftly dismissed claims that participants in the program qualified for worker protections. But in the past decade, litigators, advocates, and academics have partnered with detained workers to successfully challenge the legality of these labor schemes, most recently scoring a unanimous victory at the Supreme Court. This Note outlines the various causes of action to claim workers’ rights in private immigration detention, particularly the under-researched but successful state law claims. Drawing on lessons learned from litigation across the country, this Note identifies obstacles to and opportunities for ending the exploitation of detained workers.
For victims of abuse, safety means hiding. Not just hiding themselves, but also their contact details, their address, their workplace, their roommates, and any other information that could enable their abuser to target them. Yet today, no number of name changes and relocations can prevent data brokers from sharing a victim’s personal information online. Thanks to brokers, abusers can find what they need with a single search, a few clicks, and a few dollars. For many victims, then, the best hope for safety lies in obscurity—that is, making themselves and their information harder to find. This Article exposes privacy law’s complicity in this phenomenon of “brokered abuse.” Today, victims seeking obscurity can ask data brokers to remove their online information. But a web of privacy laws props up a fragmented and opaque system that forces victims to navigate potentially hundreds of distinct opt-out processes, wait months for their information to be removed, and then repeat this process continuously to ensure their information doesn’t resurface. In response, this Article proposes a new regulatory regime premised on a transformative reallocation of responsibility. In short, it proposes a techno-legal system that would enable victims to obscure their information across all data brokers with a single request, redistributing the burden away from victims and onto brokers. Such a system is justified, feasible, and constitutional.
This Article is the first to scrutinize presidential trade authority under the Constitution. The Constitution grants the President no independent power to regulate foreign commerce. That conclusion, while apparent from a straightforward reading of Articles I and II, stands in stark contrast to executive conduct of U.S. trade policy in recent years. This Article traces the roots of this constitutional distortion to a confluence of doctrinal drift and academic oversight. Courts and commentators have increasingly relied on an expansive conception of executive power grounded in a perceived general foreign affairs authority. In doing so, they have blurred the line between diplomacy and commerce and used this confluence to justify unilateral economic actions by a “trader in chief” that circumvent the Constitution’s allocation of power. These matters have reached a tipping point over the last decade, prompting a series of high-profile cases in which the government has argued that this general foreign affairs power includes some portion of the foreign commerce power. To correct this misapprehension, this Article undertakes a novel examination of Founding-era materials, including the distribution of commercial authority between the king and parliament in eighteenth-century Britain, the correspondence and deliberations of the Framers, and the Founding Generation’s implementation of the commerce power in matters of national security during the early years of the Republic. These sources reveal a consistent and deliberate understanding both that Congress’s control over foreign commerce is exclusive and that Congress’s control over commerce trumps the President’s general foreign affairs powers when the two intersect. This Article further argues that this allocation was not accidental or ancillary but central to the constitutional design.
This Article provides the first comprehensive account of the reconstruction of energy tax law that has occurred in the 2020s. In the past, federal energy policy offered carrots and sticks aimed selectively at specific sources of emissions (e.g., power plants) and specific green alternatives (e.g., solar and wind), even as academics urged the use of universal sticks like a carbon tax. But Congress has now charted a new path: performance-based carrots, or tax credits for any zero-emission energy technology (subject to certain politically driven exclusions). The only way to implement universal, performance-based carrots is to estimate the carbon intensity of every subsidy applicant. This is the task of carbon accounting. The Article makes two main arguments about the emergence of carbon accounting inside tax law. First, carbon accounting is surprisingly well suited to tax law because it will be informed by tax law’s experience with parallel normative and analytical principles, including a comprehensive tax base, additionality, liability shifting, and rate blending. But second, just as the income tax is susceptible to “tax shelters,” so too will firms develop “carbon shelters” that qualify for green subsidies while covertly making use of high-emission energy. Because of the difficulty of anticipating every carbon shelter in advance, an antishelter strategy needs deliberately over-broad anti-abuse rules, including some modeled on similar rules from tax law. If policymakers are to avoid inadvertently subsidizing unlimited emissions, they must be prepared to compromise on the principle of technology neutrality that motivates performance-based carrots in the first place.
To comply with the colorblind impulses of American antidiscrimination law, computer programmers tend to exclude race as a data input when constructing a machine learning algorithm. Yet scholars and advocates consistently argue that even these formally race-blind algorithms can racially discriminate by relying on so-called “proxies for race,” or variables that have a strong correlation with race, such as zip code, income, or prior criminal arrest. While a programmer wishing to respond to this argument might attempt to remove both race and all racial proxies from input data, their task is complicated by a key dilemma: The definition of a racial proxy is far from obvious. This Article examines the myriad definitions of a racial proxy proffered by courts, scholars, and state and private actors to demonstrate how race and racial assumptions become embedded in the machine learning algorithms that increasingly structure human life. Ultimately, what is at stake in the ability to define a racial proxy is a novel form of algorithmically driven racial construction, which permits the production of new and meaningful classes of individuals that can later be exposed to differing resources, opportunities, subordination, and privilege.
CLR Online
The web edition of the California Law Review.
In January 2026, right after overthrowing the President of Venezuela but just before launching a war with Iran, the Trump Administration ramped up its efforts to annex Greenland. During this period, President Trump’s rhetoric surrounding the Danish territory reached a fever pitch, with erratic threats of both a military invasion of Greenland and the imposition of tariffs on European goods. While responses differed across Europe, by January 18, France lobbied the European Union for the implementation of reciprocal tariffs, and on January 19, Denmark announced the deployment of additional troops to Greenland. Two days later, the European Parliament published a press release raising “serious concerns” over the United States threats to Greenland’s sovereignty and its “transactional approach” to foreign policy. While the events surrounding Greenland might appear uniquely volatile, they illustrated a broader, ongoing shift in global politics. As President Trump’s threats showed, tariffs are increasingly deployed as an instrument of geopolitical pressure. Greenland is not the only example of this shift, as the world is entering an era of increased tariff-based economic conflicts.
To the public, Learning Resources v. Trump was a fierce condemnation by the Roberts Court of President Donald Trump’s brash assertions of constitutional power. The Supreme Court flatly rejected the claim that the International Emergency Economic Powers Act (IEEPA) provision empowering the President to “regulate . . . importation” in the face of emergency unlocked tariff powers. The New York Times pronounced the decision as a “Declaration of Independence” by the high court. Slate praised the thirteen pages of the Chief’s opinion backed by a majority as “a withering rebuke . . . [a] crisp, confident opinion.” But if you look deeper—for instance, at the remaining 157 pages—it becomes clear that the Court’s conservative majority experienced a catastrophic meltdown. The major questions doctrine exploded on the page, receiving a different interpretation in each of the case’s seven opinions. And the lower courts will have to handle the fallout.
In January 2026, Anthropic published something unprecedented: a 79-page “constitution” for its AI model Claude. The document is remarkable. It is not a terms of service agreement. It is not a list of prohibited outputs. It is, as the company describes it, “a detailed description of Anthropic’s intentions for Claude’s values and behavior.” This constitution stands as a foundational text meant to shape how an artificial intelligence understands itself, its obligations, and its place in the world. Anthropic is not merely programming behaviors. It is, at least rhetorically, cultivating something like AI integrity. Reading the document, one encounters genuine philosophical engagement rather than boilerplate risk mitigation. History offers little reason to believe that corporate ethics survive contact with quarterly earnings reports. But a possible future in which Anthropic is incentivized to abandon its morals is not the only risk. My claim, and the focus of this piece, is stronger: Anthropic’s constitution itself harbors existing risks, found in both express limitations and structural defects.
American democracy is under profound stress. This stress was caused by the legal erosion of hard-won voting rights protections. Supreme Court decisions have slowly chipped away at the Voting Rights Act’s safeguards, emboldening a wave of restrictive voting policies under the guise of promoting election integrity. These measures—voter ID laws, purges of voter rolls, closure of polling places—are often defended as neutral bureaucratic management or lawful audits of the voter rolls to eliminate non-citizen registration. But in practice, they fall hardest on marginalized communities. The political playing field has been becoming increasingly skewed, and public faith in the democratic process has corroded with time. The Constitution’s broad promise of equal voting access and fair political representation has thinned, and now reveals an unsettling paradox: At the very moment when electoral participation should be most protected amid democratic backsliding, it is increasingly precarious.
American states continue to actively regulate artificialintelligence (“AI”) despite the Trump administration’s efforts to stop them. Idaho and Utah have recently enacted bills that declare that AI is not a legal person. The same states that have enacted anti-AI personhood laws have also adopted laws declaring that embryos are people. Some argue that embryos should be granted legal personhood because they have potential to become people. By the same logic, AI is also a legal person because, as it evolves, some predict that it will share characteristics with humans. How do state legislative representatives justify granting embryos legal personhood, but denying AI the same?
Who does our government work for? How does our government shape our society? Who gets access to the power of the state when they have a problem or need help? None other than Chief Justice John Roberts himself has perpetrated a great lie that the ability to access our federal courts is a neutral, apolitical issue. In reality, our federal courts systematically favor the rich and powerful, particularly those who push a specific set of conservative policy outcomes, even when those outcomes are contrary to what Americans vote for and support. In order to rectify this disconnect, we must rethink the laws, rules, and regulations that structure federal courts, and grow capacity at the state level to ensure our system works for everyone, not just the rich and powerful.
Symposia
Articles accompanying CLR’s conferences. Published in the print edition.
The concern raised by David Strauss’s Essay might be addressed by positing an alternative, broader conception of judicial review than the one he proposes, which is inspired by the influential footnote in the Carolene Products case. My alternative view on the scope and nature of judicial review does not grow out of experience with American Constitutional history (which I am no expert on), but rather from a philosophical perspective grounded in liberal and democratic theory and from a comparative constitutional experience drawn from the European and Israeli contexts. I will present my position through a defense of two distinctions that seem essential to me.
Professor David Strauss attributes the U.S. Supreme Court’s reactionary jurisprudence to a breakdown of elite consensus. He observes that lawyers and judges disagree about the proper “victims” of our political process: Are they Black, Brown, and LGBTQ+ people or, instead, Whites, Christians, and gun owners? Under such elite “polarization,” Strauss worries the jurisprudential approach that emerged from Carolene Products allows for judicial intervention on behalf of groups loaded with political power. Even then, he insists on the classic liberal defense of the courts: that courts serve as an important if imperfect check against the majoritarian domination of minorities. But critical to such defenses is the unstated conjecture that elites are more enlightened than popular majorities.
In Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization and Obergefell v. Hodges, the Justices who attack substantive due process law equate it with Lochner. Today, crying “Lochner” has so much force that it is often unclear what the objection itself entails. “Lochner” warns federal judges to defer to a legislature’s judgments in enacting ordinary social and economic legislation. But the modern substantive due process cases do not concern such legislation. In this Essay, we supply an answer to the Lochner objection by demonstrating how judicial review of substantive due process claims can be democracy-promoting.
Among law students, lawyers, jurists, and legal academics, the reasoning contained in Supreme Court opinions forms the indispensable object of examination. The centrality of those opinions is instilled from the very first moments of law school, as professors direct their students to scrutinize this key paragraph, that critical sentence, even the odd momentous footnote. The rationales undergirding various Supreme Court opinions receive not mere study, but valorization, worship, and occasionally even ridicule. However, this Essay contends that such claims wildly exaggerate the actual significance of judicial opinions.
Once upon a time, not that long ago, we had a pretty good explanation for why judicial review exists. The premise is that, for the most part, important decisions in a nation like ours should be made by politically accountable officials, not by courts. Unavoidably, though, there will be defects in the democratic political process. The role of the courts is to correct those defects, to the extent they can. One such defect is that some groups may not have their fair share of political power. If that is true, then the courts should intervene to protect that group. But this account is not quite right, and it is incorrect in a way that suggests a deep problem with judicial review today.
Department of State v. Muñoz was a critically important successor to Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization. In Muñoz, the Court continued efforts to shrink the protective force of the Due Process Clause. Even more significantly, the Court launched another attack on the equality principle undergirding cases including Loving v. Virginia. Through its rejection of substantive due process protections, the Court is intentionally weakening a broad swath of antidiscrimination protections and procedural due process rights.
Podcast
Interviews with the authors of articles, notes, or online pieces published in CLR.
In 2023, the Supreme Court decided Mallory v. Norfolk, Southern Railway Company, which held that consent remains a method of establishing personal jurisdiction independent of the minimum contacts test, first introduced by International Shoe Company. Washington. On the surface, this decision resolved ambiguities in personal jurisdiction doctrine. But, to explain to us how Mallory failed to consider the many complexities underlying consent to personal jurisdiction, Scott Dodson, a Distinguished Professor of Law at UC San Francisco, joins us to discuss his article, The Complexities of Consent to Personal Jurisdiction.
The amorphous administrative state is often oversimplified and misunderstood. Now, with the Trump Administration pushing for mass deportation and the DOGE dissecting and even disemboweling federal agencies, it is increasingly important to understand the different types of agencies, how they are run, and how agencies like the CBP, ICE, and the Bureau of Prisons create “at a massive scale the ‘field of pain and death’ that the law occupies.” From detaining federal criminal prisoners and immigrants to engaging in armed conflicts and carrying out domestic arrests, these agencies are governed by statutes, regulations, and internal guidelines that nonetheless fail to stop violence and the misuse of force.
People usually think that all tax agencies do is ensure tax laws are followed. But for decades, the IRS has regularly facilitated immigration raids. These raids target employees even as the IRS investigates their employers’ potential tax violations. What can this state of affairs teach us about agency overreach? And what alternate paths could better align the IRS’s efforts with its mission? In this episode, UC Davis School of Law Professor Shayak Sarkar discusses the IRS's underappreciated role in immigration enforcement.
Traffic courts resolve over half of the cases in the U.S. legal system. These cases are easy for some defendants to handle by paying a fine, but they can have devastating effects for those with fewer means. And despite the key role these courts play in funding state judicial branches and other state and local programs, they have not been comprehensively studied in decades. What’s going on in traffic courts? And what can they teach us about the legal system more broadly? In this episode, Arizona State University Sandra Day O’Connor College of Law Professor Justin Weinstein-Tull explains his research on traffic courts.
Immigration adjudications regularly use information from the criminal legal system to justify a discretionary denial of relief or benefits, even when charges have been dismissed. This practice faces little scrutiny due to the assumption that adjudicators are merely importing facts already found by the criminal system. But what if this practice actually constitutes “hidden factfinding”? Sarah Vendzules, a Senior Staff Attorney at the Office of the Appellate Defender in New York City, uncovers this hidden factfinding and offers a framework that could rein it in.
The U.S. carceral system disproportionately harms racial minorities and people living in poverty. Penal abolitionist frameworks have helpfully reframed the conversation to foreground those harmful social consequences. But how do those consequences affect our understanding of work, and particularly work that is both criminalized and undertaken in order to survive? In this episode, Indiana University Maurer School of Law Professor Yvette Butler explains her concept of survival labor and why it should be included in our general understanding of work.