Law Profs Fight Back

Professor Brian Leiter is mad as hell, and he’s not going to take it anymore.

Professor Leiter, you see, is a blogger. Because he’s pretty well-known in the legal realm (mostly for his law school rankings), he gets mail. And one of his recent posts on “thinking like a lawyer” spurred this feisty little note from a reader:

You’re a “Law and ______” Professor, not a lawyer.  How would you know how to ‘think like a lawyer’?

Leiter’s response was to send a decidedly punchy email back to the reader that labels him “insolent,” “impertinent[,] and juvenile.” Leiter then went a step further and evidently copied the entire email exchange to the partners of the young reader’s firm, all while questioning whether the reader was a lawyer himself. (“I’m not a lawyer? No you!”) Leiter’s response post then piles on with the insults, calling the reader “insolent,” “unprofessional,” “malicious,” and “stupid[.]” And in the process, Leiter declares that he’s ”going to be posting a bit more about some alleged legal professionals whose on-line conduct deserves to be aired in public.” Yowsa.

Leiter’s response puts me in the interesting position of agreeing with Professor David Bernstein. Bernstein notes that Leiter has something of a history of using inflammatory language of his own. How then can Leiter take offense?

But I think there are better reasons to say that Leiter went too far, here. At the risk of drawing Leiter’s ire, I’d like to briefly note them.

First, bloggers should expect some degree of criticism. I think it’s fair to ask for civility. But I don’t think it’s fair to react to a relatively tame–if rather snarky–email with a response that was intended to do affirmative harm to the writer’s career. When people attack things that Susan and I write, we ignore it or delete it. Nothing more is needed.

Second, and perhaps more importantly, I find it odd indeed that Leiter never responds to the inartfully-worded question. The point raised by the reader was a simple one: “How do you know how to think like a lawyer, when you haven’t practiced as a lawyer?” (Leiter apparently practiced only briefly, for a few months at a large law firm.) And Leiter responds:

“Thinking like a lawyer” refers to a style of reasoning and analysis that is exemplified in the law section of appellate briefs and in judicial opinions; I assume you must be familiar with both genres.  It encompasses, for example, the use of analogical reasoning to distinguish precedents or propose extensions or developments of existing doctrine, but also involves techniques of statutory and constitutional construction, the use of arguments from authority, facility with the law/fact distinctions, and so on.  Again, merely looking at the chapter headings of Schauer’s book Thinking Like  a Lawyer would illuminate this apparently opaque topic for you.  Alternatively, you might read Edward Levi’s classic book An Introduction to Legal Reasoning; Mr. Levi was the former Dean of my Law School, as well as former Attorney General of the United States.

Judging from Leiter’s answer, he thinks that he knows how think like a lawyer because he read a book. (Ok, two books.) Isn’t that troubling? Isn’t the young reader then raising a fair point, asking whether the credentials and rhetoric employed by law professors really mean much? Couldn’t Leiter have engaged that point without the insults?

I guess not.

I find that inability disappointing coming from a well-educated scholar like Leiter. And I hope he will not deem me “insolent” for saying so.

-Michael

Update: The interwebz agrees with me.

Getting it Wrong: A Lesson from a Law Professor’s Blog

Update: A few minutes after I wrote this post, the blog post I discuss below was edited to better reflect Scalia’s opinion in Maples v. Thomas. In particular, the post now correctly reflects that Scalia would’ve rejected relief “because he believed the Maples was still technically represented in the case,” while adding a new argument that “[t]he record demonstrates that a gap occurred in representation.” Glad we cleared that up.


Blogging is supposed to be fun. In a perfect world, here’s what would happen: you post something interesting and insightful up for the world to see, everyone compliments you on your incredible intelligence, and you can be happy that you added something useful to the world. In the real world, here’s what often happens instead: you post something empty (or perhaps something insightful that turns out to be wrong), anonymous internet trolls leave angry comments eviscerating your work, and you leave wishing you had spent all that time you invested with a stiff drink rather than wasting it on your crappy blog post.

These problems can only get worse when people write about things falling outside their traditional areas of expertise. Susan and I, for instance, write about anything that catches our attention for a moment, which may be something we each know very little about. Even the title of our blog acknowledges the broad sweep of what we talk about here. As a result, we sometimes stumble off track and screw things up.

Recognizing I’m not an expert on many subject matters I write about here, I always try to do two things: (a) acknowledge when I’m wrong, if someone tells me; and (b) never write a post in a heavy-handed, “why doesn’t this person already know this” kind of way.  (I’ll admit there have been exceptions to this rule.)

The importance of a bit of humility in blogging is nicely illustrated by a recent blog post from law professor qua pop culture legal icon Jonathan Turley. The post excoriates Justices Thomas and Scalia for their recent dissenting opinion in a habeas case, Maples v. Thomas.  As it turns out, Professor Turley’s bluster seems to be based on a fundamental misunderstanding of the decision.

[A digression to explain the case. The Maples case presents a procedural issue only a criminal nut could love: what constitutes "cause" sufficient to excuse procedural default? SCOTUSBlog's Plain English column explains it well:

When he first challenged the constitutionality of his death sentence at the state level, Maples thought (as he later told courts) that he had “won the lottery” because he was represented by two lawyers from a prestigious New York law firm.  Unfortunately for Maples, after his New York lawyers filed his brief in the state trial court but before the court issued a decision ruling against him, both of those lawyers left the firm for other jobs, without notifying the court.  So when the court mailed the decision to the lawyers, the mailroom at the New York firm simply returned the unopened envelopes to the court (marked “Returned to Sender”).  As a result, Maples missed his chance to appeal the court’s ruling, which in turn led federal courts to reject his constitutional claims on the ground that they were procedurally defaulted – that is, that he had not given state courts a chance to consider them.

Ok, now back to the law professor's post.]

The Court determined that Maples’ lawyers had abandoned him, providing cause for his procedural default. Scalia and Thomas dissented. This, Turley says, is deplorable:

Scalia dismisses the confusion and lack of involvement of the attorneys who tried to retrieve Maples’ procedural rights. However, once again, procedural requirements must be tempered by some notion of basic justice and fairness. The jurisprudence of these justices appear to be impenetrable by such values. It is the triumph of procedure over justice.

Trouble is, Scalia never once concluded that abandonment is insufficient to establish cause to overcome procedural default. In fact, Scalia expressly agreed “that a habeas petitioner’s procedural default may be excused when it is attributable to abandonment by his attorney.” Scalia dissented because of a factual disagreement with the majority’s conclusion that Maples had been left without counsel. In Scalia’s view, Maples was still represented by the firm of Sullivan and Cromwell as a whole and by a few other individual attorneys who had also represented him. Thus, there was no “abandonment,” but only attorney error. Basic attorney error is something long-recognized as insufficient to establish cause. Scalia’s opinion closes by noting that Maples’ case could therefore provide sufficient cause only if the Court undid its own case law and made all attorney error sufficient to establish cause.  (It is this final explanation that Professor Turley seems to take out of context.)

Scalia’s fine factual distinction may be weak to many, but the point is that he does not reject abandonment as a grounds for relief. He does not insist that procedure triumphs over justice in every case. Professor Turley seems to have overlooked this subtle but important distinction.

I flag all this as a cautionary tale. Blogging is often sold as a no-lose situation, especially for practitioners looking to draw in clients by flashing their intelligence. But blogging is a difficult and dangerous undertaking. Even the best sometimes misread cases or misunderstand doctrine. And when that happens in a blog post, there’s nowhere to hide. The wolves come out out of the shadows to pounce. There is blood. Things get messy. Keep that in mind when you sit down at your keyboard with plans to show the world how smart you are.

…Now go ahead and tell me all the ways I’m wrong.

-Michael

Is This Blog a Legal Liability? (Part Two)

Just after Susan and I started this blog, I asked whether we were unintentionally opening ourselves up to liability. Today the Virginia State Bar issued a decision that might again suggest, at least at first glance, that we are.

A Richmond criminal attorney, Horace Hunter, ran (and continues to run) a blog. He wrote about things he knew: the law, the news, and, perhaps misguidedly, his own cases. The Virginia State Bar evidently didn’t care for Hunter’s writing, smacking him with a formal misconduct charge premised on his website. Among other things, they faulted Hunter for failing to include a disclaimer when he talked about prior cases. (Virginia felt he should include the ordinary stuff along the lines of, “Prior results do not guarantee future success.”) Today, the misconduct charge was upheld, evidently finding that the blog was indeed meant to market the firm and therefore amounted to advertising.

Some people are going to take this case and extrapolate big things from it. The bar is going to come after lawyers who blog! It’s the end of social media for lawyers! Delete all the blogs! But I think we needn’t panic yet. The ruling only covers blogs wherein an attorney talks about his own cases, which realistically can raise a number of issues even absent the VSB’s ruling. (Client confidences, anyone?) And Virginia’s disclaimer rule only seems to reach those “prior case” posts, so everyone else should be ok.

Still, I think this case provides another reminder that lawyers should think carefully before jumping into the social media frenzy. It seems a lot of lawyers–especially lawyers my age–think social media is the gravy train to success. Mr. Hunter’s unfortunate case reminds us that some caution might be in order before hopping on.

-Michael

First One @ One First = Fraud?

The legal blogosphere has recently given a lot of attention to Mike Sacks, the Georgetown 3L and author of “First One @ One First” who aspires to be the first one in the Supreme Court’s general admission line for “every politically salient case from January through April.”  He’s even posting over at Above the Law now.  The gimmick is certainly interesting, and his writing is good (though a bit pompous).  But is he really trying to make it to every “politically salient” case?  Or is the gimmick really an overstatement?

As Susan has already mentioned, we (unsuccessfully) tried to see Samantar v. Yousuf when it was recently argued.  I was the second person denied entry (at #52), while Susan got pushed all the way back to #69 (*giggle*).  As I stood there trembling in the cold, one of the guards walked up and asked, “What is this case about? There are more people here today than there were for McDonald.”   The guard was right:  there were tons of people there, stretching all the way down the steps of the plaza and along the sidewalk on First.

With a case that popular, one would expect Mr. Sacks to deem it “politically salient.”  Mr. Sacks, however, was nowhere to be found.  Turns out, he decided to sit this one out.  Wha?!  By his own definition (given on Above the Law), this case was somewhere between a “mid-major” and a “blockbuster,” as I got there before 7am and still didn’t get a seat.  Why didn’t he at least try to show up?  Of course, he concedes that he has not always been first in line, even for the ones he deems important.  But this time he didn’t even try.

I propose he rename his blog “Frequently Towards the Front of the Line at One First.”  I say this recognizing that, in the end, it’s not a big deal if some Georgetown 3L has taken liberties with his blog title.  And my title doesn’t have the same ring as “First One . . .”  But can’t we stop paying so much attention to a guy who can’t even follow through on his own schtick?

-Michael

Update:  A gracious Mike Sacks comments, “Busted.”  I’m glad to see he didn’t take my little review too seriously (and that he recognized it as the tongue in cheek piece I intended it to be).

An Apology

Yikes!  It appears I’ve been persona non grata around here lately.  It turns out that writing a good blog and holding down a real job is really hard work.  I should have heeded the warning of another legal blogger, Mark Herrmann (formerly of the Drug and Device Law Blog):

If you’re thinking of launching a legal blog, have your eyes open. Once you launch a blog, you will face the relentless, mind-numbing, never-ending task of finding worthwhile material to publish. That burden begins on the day of your first post, and ends only the day you call it quits.

So this is my public apology and my assurance that I will write more — and it won’t suck!

Or you could just go read Susan’s new blog.  Whatever.

-Michael

Is This Blog A Legal Liability?

If a recent article is any indication, we might be subjecting ourselves to legal liability by starting this blog.  According to the ABA Journal, comments on blogs and websites have encouraged a number of recent lawsuits.  These lawsuits are not just coming from crazy folk; a former dean of Pace Law School sued a newspaper website after commenters suggested he had taken bribes, while a company running an online role-playing game lodged its own suit against an internet blog critical of its business practices.  And yes, even law-related websites like ours sometimes get sued

I hesitate to ask, but . . . does anyone have any comments?

-Michael