Judicial Review in Times of Emergency: From The Founding Through The Covid-19 Pandemic

[O]f course, Korematsu was wrong . . . . But you are kidding yourself if you think the same thing will not happen again.

– Justice Antonin Scalia1.Justice Antonin Scalia, Statement at University of Hawaii School of Law (Feb. 3, 2014), quoted in Debra Cassens Weiss, Scalia: Korematsu Was Wrong, but ‘You Are Kidding Yourself’ If You Think It Won’t Happen Again, A.B.A. J. (Feb. 4, 2014, 1:05 PM), https://www.abajournal.com/news/article/scalia_korematsu_was_wrong_but_you_are_kidding_yourself_if_you_think_it_won [https://perma.cc/D6YQ-CRND].Show More

Introduction

In the immediate wake of the assassination of President Abraham Lincoln and just ten days after newly sworn-in President Andrew Johnson issued an order calling for a military trial of the alleged conspirators in Lincoln’s killing, the government brought the accused before a tribunal composed of nine military officers at the Old Arsenal Penitentiary in Washington, D.C.2.Amanda L. Tyler, Habeas Corpus in Wartime: From the Tower of London to Guantanamo Bay 174–75 (2017) (detailing procedures and proceedings).Show More The President’s order empowered the commission to set its own rules of procedure.3.Id. at 175.Show More By the ensuing rules, a majority vote of the officers could sustain a guilty verdict, a two-thirds majority vote could sustain a death sentence, and the only avenue for appeal was to seek a pardon from the President.4.Id.Show More

Appearing for the prosecution, Representative John Bingham—who one year later would serve as primary drafter of the Fourteenth Amendment—argued that the due process guarantee set forth in the Fifth Amendment to the Constitution was “only the law of peace, not of war.”5.Id. at 175–76.Show More “[I]n war,” he asserted, “it must be, and is, to a great extent, inoperative and disregarded.”6.Id. at 176; see also Gerard N. Magliocca, American Founding Son: John Bingham and the Invention of the Fourteenth Amendment 89–98 (2013) (detailing the arguments of Bingham and others in relation to the applicability of the U.S. Constitution in times of war).Show More

Counsel for the accused conspirators argued that they deserved a jury trial in a proper court of law. Specifically, Maryland Senator Reverdy Johnson argued that fundamental liberties are “more peculiarly necessary to the security of personal liberty in war than in peace. All history tells us that war, at times, maddens the people, frenzies government, and makes both regardless of constitutional limitations of power. Individual safety, at such periods, is more in peril than at any other.”7.Magliocca, supra note 6, at 94.Show More It followed, in his view, that only members of the United States military could be tried by a military commission. Given that the courts were open and operating in the District, he contended, the defendants were entitled to a jury trial with the full panoply of procedural protections set forth in the Bill of Rights.8.Id.Show More

But Bingham was not finished. Bingham also cited as legal sanction for the military trials President Lincoln’s earlier declarations of martial law and suspension of habeas corpus that had followed under legislation enacted by the United States Congress in 1863.9.Id. at 95–96.Show More More generally, during wartime, he contended, “the rights of each citizen, as secured in time of peace, must yield to the wants, interests, and necessities of the nation.”10 10.Id. at 96.Show More

As every armchair Civil War historian knows, Bingham’s arguments prevailed on that occasion. The military commission proceeded to convict all eight defendants on various conspiracy-related charges,11 11.These included the charge of traitorously conspiring to commit murder, a crime not codified in federal law but one that had been announced by the military officers for the case at hand. Id. at 98–99.Show More sentencing four to death, three to life terms, and one to a six-year prison term.12 12.Id. at 99–102.Show More Days later, on July 7, 1865, the government hanged the four given capital sentences.13 13.Frank J. Williams & Nicole J. Benjamin, Military Trials of Terrorists: From the Lincoln Conspirators to the Guantanamo Inmates, 39 N. Ky. L. Rev. 609, 629 (2012).Show More This happened despite the filing by one of the condemned, Mary Surratt, of an overnight habeas petition reiterating Senator Johnson’s arguments, which was thwarted by the personal intervention of President Johnson.14 14.Tyler, supra note 2, at 177.Show More

Just one year later and with the Civil War effectively over, in Ex parte Milligan, the Supreme Court of the United States rejected the notion that military courts could try civilians in states “where the courts are open and their process unobstructed.”15 15.Ex parte Milligan, 71 U.S. (4 Wall.) 2, 31–32, 121 (1866).Show More In so doing, the Court rebuffed the government’s argument that the Bill of Rights constituted “peace provisions” that “like all other conventional and legislative laws and enactments, are silent amidst arms, and when the safety of the people becomes the supreme law.”16 16.Id. at 20 (replicating government’s argument).Show More Instead, Milligan championed the following proposition: “The Constitution of the United States is a law for rulers and people, equally in war and in peace, and covers with the shield of its protection all classes of men, at all times, and under all circumstances.”17 17.Id. at 120–21. For more on Milligan and the trial of the Lincoln conspirators, see Martin S. Lederman, The Law(?) of the Lincoln Assassination, 118 Colum. L. Rev. 323, 394–457 (2018).Show More

It is an inspiring passage. But the track record over the course of American history seems to suggest otherwise. More often than not, Bingham’s arguments have prevailed when courts have reviewed government actions taken during times of war and emergency. Whether the courts expressly say the Constitution means something different in such times, or say the political branches deserve extra deference during such emergencies, or say that during such times the judiciary should stay its hand entirely, the result has been the same: For all practical purposes, the United States Constitution has meant something different in times of emergency. Whether deferring to President Lincoln’s blockade at the start of the Civil War,18 18.The Prize Cases, 67 U.S. (2 Black) 635, 670–71 (1863).Show More a state’s suspension of creditors’ remedies during the Great Depression,19 19.Home Bldg. & Loan Ass’n v. Blaisdell, 290 U.S. 398, 416, 447–48 (1934).Show More or President Roosevelt’s evacuation and mass incarceration of Japanese Americans in the West during World War II,20 20.See, e.g., Hirabayashi v. United States, 320 U.S. 81, 83, 85–89, 104–05 (1943); Korematsu v. United States, 323 U.S. 214, 215–18 (1944).Show More the Supreme Court has regularly permitted the political branches wide discretion to manage national emergencies, even in ways that would be viewed as flouting the Constitution during peacetime. All of this has been exacerbated, moreover, by the ever-expanding conceptions of war and emergency more generally.21 21.See, e.g., Mary L. Dudziak, War Time: An Idea, Its History, Its Consequences 5, 136 (2012) (exploring how the concept of wartime has expanded dramatically over the course of American history, particularly in the hands of politicians); Sanford Levinson, Constitutional Norms in a State of Permanent Emergency, 40 Ga. L. Rev. 699, 737 (2006) (exploring similar trends). This Article sometimes refers to “wars and emergencies”; to be clear, however, this Article conceives of wars as one subset of emergencies.Show More

It follows that studying emergencies has the potential to tell us something both about the judicial role and the Constitution itself. This is because such a study implicates a range of questions, including whether the Founding document, despite expressly accounting for the potential for war and emergency, is a compact the meaning of which turns on the state of national security.22 22.There are many wartime powers noted in the Constitution. See, e.g., U.S. Const. art. I, § 8, cl. 11 (empowering Congress “[t]o declare War, grant Letters of Marque and Reprisal, and make Rules concerning Captures on Land and Water”); id. cls. 12–14 (empowering Congress “[t]o raise and support Armies,” “[t]o provide and maintain a Navy,” and “[t]o make Rules for the Government and Regulation of the land and naval Forces”); id. cl. 15 (empowering Congress “[t]o provide for calling forth the Militia to execute the Laws of the Union, suppress Insurrections and repel Invasions”); id. § 9, cl. 2 (referencing the power to suspend habeas corpus).Show More That is, was Bingham correct that it means something different in times of crisis versus when the country is at peace? And what of the judicial role? Does it differ depending on such circumstances?

Although Bingham’s arguments most often have prevailed historically, there have been a handful of Supreme Court decisions, like Milligan, pushing back on the idea that the political branches deserve extensive deference to manage crises. Consider, in addition to Milligan, Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer (The Steel Seizure Case), in which the Supreme Court told President Truman that he could not seize the country’s steel mills that were about to strike during the height of the Korean War.23 23.Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer (The Steel Seizure Case), 343 U.S. 579, 588–89 (1952).Show More The result is unsettled terrain, with many of the larger questions about the Constitution and judicial role in times of emergency having never been fully resolved.24 24.As explored below, Milligan and other examples of Supreme Court decisions that do not defer to the political branches have often come in the waning days of—or even after—the relevant emergency. See infra text accompanying notes 60–67.Show More Instead, well over two hundred years into our constitutional experiment, debates rage on as to the proper roles of the judiciary and our Founding document during such times.25 25.For a small selection of some of the relevant literature on point, see, e.g., Saikrishna Bangalore Prakash, The Sweeping Domestic War Powers of Congress, 113 Mich. L. Rev. 1337 (2015); Sanford Levinson & Jack M. Balkin, Constitutional Dictatorship: Its Dangers and Its Design, 94 Minn. L. Rev. 1789 (2010); Sanford Levinson, Constitutional Norms in a State of Permanent Emergency, 40 Ga. L. Rev. 699 (2006); Bruce Ackerman, The Emergency Constitution, 113 Yale L.J. 1029 (2004); Laurence H. Tribe & Patrick O. Gudridge, The Anti-Emergency Constitution, 113 Yale L.J. 1801 (2004); Michael Stokes Paulsen, The Civil War as Constitutional Interpretation, 71 U. Chi. L. Rev. 691 (2004); Mark Tushnet, Defending Korematsu?: Reflections on Civil Liberties in Wartime, 2003 Wis. L. Rev. 273; John Hart Ely, War and Responsibility: Constitutional Lessons of Vietnam and its Aftermath (1993).Show More

With the COVID-19 pandemic and the extensive litigation it has spurred targeting regulation of conduct deemed dangerous to public health, there is a new chapter to add to the mix. And it is a very interesting one. In several cases, an emerging Supreme Court majority has applied increasingly rigorous scrutiny to government regulations predicated upon public health, most notably where such rules have intersected with the exercise of religion, but also in the areas of property rights and separation of powers. It has done so, moreover, often in the context of its so-called “shadow docket”26 26.I believe the term originated with William Baude, Foreword: The Supreme Court’s Shadow Docket, 9 N.Y.U. J.L. & Liberty 1, 5 (2015). The rise of orders in such cases has been explored in detail by Stephen Vladeck. See, e.g., Stephen I. Vladeck, The Solicitor General and the Shadow Docket, 133 Harv. L. Rev. 123, 152–53 (2019). There is a debate over the appropriateness of the term “shadow docket,” but I will employ it here given that these are cases often without full briefing and argument in which, as the cases discussed below in Part II demonstrate, the Court has sometimes rendered highly consequential rulings that are not always clearly supported by existing precedent. This Article puts to the side the debate over whether the Court should be so active in this posture and whether it should be establishing new substantive law in these cases. Nonetheless, I tend to join camp with those who are critical of the Court on both fronts. See, e.g., id. at 156–60; see also Stephen Vladeck, The Shadow Docket: How the Supreme Court Uses Stealth Rulings to Amass Power and Undermine the Republic (forthcoming 2023) (arguing that the Court’s use of the shadow docket is fundamentally inconsistent with its role in the judicial process and risks serious long-term institutional harm to the Court).Show More—its emergency application docket that fast-tracks cases to the Court without the benefit of full briefing and argument. This being said, a Court majority has also deferred to government decisions made in the context of the pandemic in several other contexts, including when reviewing abortion and prison policies.

All the same, the Court’s propensity to be so active of late invites a revival of the debates over the role of the Constitution in times of emergency and the attendant role of the judiciary during the same. On one view, the Constitution means something different during times of emergency, insofar as the political branches effectively enjoy broader discretion to manage the country through such crises. On another view—and one that has controlled in some recent COVID-19-era decisions by the Supreme Court—any emergency context should not factor into how the Court assesses the constitutionality of government action. An example of this view may be found in Justice Gorsuch’s recent opinion voting to override a governor’s order setting capacity restrictions on religious worship to halt the spread of COVID-19.27 27.S. Bay United Pentecostal Church v. Newsom, 141 S. Ct. 716, 716 (2021).Show More There, he wrote, “[e]ven in times of crisis—perhaps especially in times of crisis—we have a duty to hold governments to the Constitution.”28 28.Id. at 718 (statement of Gorsuch, J.).Show More

This Article explores the role of judicial review during times of emergency, spanning American history up to and including the Court’s recent orders made in the context of the pandemic. It also surveys debates on either side of the competing visions of the Constitution and the judicial role during emergencies. Finally, the Article suggests that even if one has significant concerns over the processes by which the current Supreme Court has decided some of the recent pandemic cases and/or the underlying merits of the decisions rendered by the Court, there is much to welcome in recent opinions positing that emergencies do not automatically diminish the individual rights protections in the Constitution or, for that matter, the judicial role. All the same, the Article concludes by critiquing the inconsistency in the Court’s approach to its role during the pandemic. Further, it suggests that it is not so much a desire to revive the judicial role in times of emergency that is driving the searching review we have witnessed in some of the pandemic cases, but instead the proverbial tail that wags the dog. In short, many of the Justices seem far more driven by the particular merits of the cases than a consistent approach to judicial review in times of emergency. A better approach would transcend the merits of any given context to embrace a model of judicial review that remains consistent regardless of the underlying merits and, most of all, the existence—or not—of any kind of emergency.

  1.  Justice Antonin Scalia, Statement at University of Hawaii School of Law (Feb. 3, 2014), quoted in Debra Cassens Weiss, Scalia: Korematsu Was Wrong, but ‘You Are Kidding Yourself’ If You Think It Won’t Happen Again, A.B.A. J. (Feb. 4, 2014, 1:05 PM), https://www.abajournal.com/news/article/scalia_korematsu_was_wrong_but_you_are_kidding_yourself_if_you_think_it_won [https://perma.cc/D6YQ-CRND].
  2.  Amanda L. Tyler, Habeas Corpus in Wartime: From the Tower of London to Guantanamo Bay 174–75 (2017) (detailing procedures and proceedings).
  3.  Id. at 175.
  4.  Id.
  5.  Id. at 175–76.
  6.  Id. at 176; see also Gerard N. Magliocca, American Founding Son: John Bingham and the Invention of the Fourteenth Amendment 89–98 (2013) (detailing the arguments of Bingham and others in relation to the applicability of the U.S. Constitution in times of war).
  7.  Magliocca, supra note 6, at 94.
  8.  Id.
  9.  Id. at 95–96.
  10.  Id. at 96.
  11.  These included the charge of traitorously conspiring to commit murder, a crime not codified in federal law but one that had been announced by the military officers for the case at hand. Id. at 98–99.
  12.  Id. at 99–102.
  13.  Frank J. Williams & Nicole J. Benjamin, Military Trials of Terrorists: From the Lincoln Conspirators to the Guantanamo Inmates, 39 N. Ky. L. Rev. 609, 629 (2012).
  14.  Tyler, supra note 2, at 177.
  15.  Ex parte Milligan, 71 U.S. (4 Wall.) 2, 31–32, 121 (1866).
  16.  Id. at 20 (replicating government’s argument).
  17.  Id. at 120–21. For more on Milligan and the trial of the Lincoln conspirators, see Martin S. Lederman, The Law(?) of the Lincoln Assassination, 118 Colum. L. Rev. 323, 394–457 (2018).
  18.  The Prize Cases, 67 U.S. (2 Black) 635, 670–71 (1863).
  19.  Home Bldg. & Loan Ass’n v. Blaisdell, 290 U.S. 398, 416, 447–48 (1934).
  20.  See, e.g., Hirabayashi v. United States, 320 U.S. 81, 83, 85–89, 104–05 (1943); Korematsu v. United States, 323 U.S. 214, 215–18 (1944).
  21.  See, e.g., Mary L. Dudziak, War Time: An Idea, Its History, Its Consequences 5, 136 (2012) (exploring how the concept of wartime has expanded dramatically over the course of American history, particularly in the hands of politicians); Sanford Levinson, Constitutional Norms in a State of Permanent Emergency, 40 Ga. L. Rev. 699, 737 (2006) (exploring similar trends). This Article sometimes refers to “wars and emergencies”; to be clear, however, this Article conceives of wars as one subset of emergencies.
  22.  There are many wartime powers noted in the Constitution. See, e.g., U.S. Const. art. I, § 8, cl. 11 (empowering Congress “[t]o declare War, grant Letters of Marque and Reprisal, and make Rules concerning Captures on Land and Water”); id. cls. 12–14 (empowering Congress “[t]o raise and support Armies,” “[t]o provide and maintain a Navy,” and “[t]o make Rules for the Government and Regulation of the land and naval Forces”); id. cl. 15 (empowering Congress “[t]o provide for calling forth the Militia to execute the Laws of the Union, suppress Insurrections and repel Invasions”); id. § 9, cl. 2 (referencing the power to suspend habeas corpus).
  23.  Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer (The Steel Seizure Case), 343 U.S. 579, 588–89 (1952).
  24.  As explored below, Milligan and other examples of Supreme Court decisions that do not defer to the political branches have often come in the waning days of—or even after—the relevant emergency. See infra text accompanying notes 60–67.
  25.  For a small selection of some of the relevant literature on point, see, e.g., Saikrishna Bangalore Prakash, The Sweeping Domestic War Powers of Congress, 113 Mich. L. Rev. 1337 (2015); Sanford Levinson & Jack M. Balkin, Constitutional Dictatorship: Its Dangers and Its Design, 94 Minn. L. Rev. 1789 (2010); Sanford Levinson, Constitutional Norms in a State of Permanent Emergency, 40 Ga. L. Rev. 699 (2006); Bruce Ackerman, The Emergency Constitution, 113 Yale L.J. 1029 (2004); Laurence H. Tribe & Patrick O. Gudridge, The Anti-Emergency Constitution, 113 Yale L.J. 1801 (2004); Michael Stokes Paulsen, The Civil War as Constitutional Interpretation, 71 U. Chi. L. Rev. 691 (2004); Mark Tushnet, Defending Korematsu?: Reflections on Civil Liberties in Wartime, 2003 Wis. L. Rev. 273; John Hart Ely, War and Responsibility: Constitutional Lessons of Vietnam and its Aftermath (1993).
  26.  I believe the term originated with William Baude, Foreword: The Supreme Court’s Shadow Docket, 9 N.Y.U. J.L. & Liberty 1, 5 (2015). The rise of orders in such cases has been explored in detail by Stephen Vladeck. See, e.g., Stephen I. Vladeck, The Solicitor General and the Shadow Docket, 133 Harv. L. Rev. 123, 152–53 (2019). There is a debate over the appropriateness of the term “shadow docket,” but I will employ it here given that these are cases often without full briefing and argument in which, as the cases discussed below in Part II demonstrate, the Court has sometimes rendered highly consequential rulings that are not always clearly supported by existing precedent. This Article puts to the side the debate over whether the Court should be so active in this posture and whether it should be establishing new substantive law in these cases. Nonetheless, I tend to join camp with those who are critical of the Court on both fronts. See, e.g., id. at 156–60; see also Stephen Vladeck, The Shadow Docket: How the Supreme Court Uses Stealth Rulings to Amass Power and Undermine the Republic (forthcoming 2023) (arguing that the Court’s use of the shadow docket is fundamentally inconsistent with its role in the judicial process and risks serious long-term institutional harm to the Court).
  27.  S. Bay United Pentecostal Church v. Newsom, 141 S. Ct. 716, 716 (2021).
  28.  Id. at 718 (statement of Gorsuch, J.).

Vagueness and Nondelegation

The void-for-vagueness doctrine and the nondelegation doctrine share an intuitive connection: when Congress drafts vague statutes, it delegates lawmaking authority to courts and the executive. In three recent cases, the Supreme Court gave expression to this link by speaking of the doctrines using nearly identical vocabulary. Notably, Justice Gorsuch suggested that as the nondelegation doctrine waned during the second half of the twentieth century, vagueness replaced it,—doing much of the doctrinal work that nondelegation would have done otherwise.

This Note tests that historical claim, and in doing so, offers two main contributions. First, it concludes that as a historical matter, Justice Gorsuch tells only part of the story. Although early vagueness doctrine in the late 1800s had strong streaks of nondelegation, vagueness doctrine of the post-New Deal era did not. The latter vagueness instead turned toward protecting individual rights and preventing racial discrimination by state and local governments. Here, nondelegation concerns were absent.

But the Roberts Court has rebooted the early vagueness doctrine that did indeed incorporate nondelegation. Modern vagueness cases thus resemble early vagueness cases. In these cases, absent are questions of individual rights, replaced by a focus on the separation of powers. In effect, there are two vagueness doctrines, one focused on individual rights and another centered around the separation of powers. This Note thus offers its second contribution: categorizing the Court’s vagueness cases and recognizing the categories for what they are.

“[O]nce we lift the veil of the void-for-vagueness doctrine, the revelations can be far reaching.”1.Risa L. Goluboff, Dispatch from the Supreme Court Archives: Vagrancy, Abortion, and What the Links Between Them Reveal About the History of Fundamental Rights, 62 Stan. L. Rev. 1361, 1387 (2010).Show More

Introduction

Suppose Congress enacts a statute that reads as follows: “Any person engaging in morally blameworthy conduct or lacking good moral character shall be punished as provided by this Code.” Is this statute unconstitutional? If so, why? Is it because of the void-for-vagueness doctrine, under which vague criminal laws violate the Constitution’s due process protections? Or is it because of the nondelegation doctrine, under which Congress cannot delegate its Article I legislative power to the executive and judicial branches through unintelligible statutes?

Or is it both?

In three recent U.S. Supreme Court cases, decided within a year of each other, these two relatively dormant doctrines—vagueness and nondelegation—simultaneously reemerged. In United States v. Davis2.139 S. Ct. 2319, 2336 (2019).Show More and Sessions v. Dimaya,3.138 S. Ct. 1204, 1223 (2018).Show More the Court struck down provisions in the federal criminal code as void for vagueness, while in Gundy v. United States, the Court addressed a nondelegation challenge to Congress’s delegation of authority to the Attorney General.4.139 S. Ct. 2116, 2122 (2019).Show More

At first glance, vagueness and nondelegation appear more different than alike. The Court has located the nondelegation doctrine in the Constitution’s “Vesting Clauses”—the Article I, Article II, and Article III provisions which vest the legislative, executive, and judicial powers in their respective branches—while vagueness doctrine has its roots in fair notice concerns and the Due Process Clauses. Vagueness’s most prominent application has been in cases involving state and local vagrancy offenses and status crimes, while the nondelegation doctrine has been employed in largely conservative-libertarian projects aimed to rein in the ever-expanding administrative and regulatory state.

Despite these differences, the two doctrines share an intuitive connection: when legislatures draft vague statutes, they delegate lawmaking authority to other branches of government. The Court gave expression to this link in Dimaya, Davis, and Gundy, describing the two doctrines using starkly similar vocabulary and shedding light on their interrelatedness. In Dimaya, Justice Kagan referred to vagueness as the “corollary” of the separation of powers that undergirds the nondelegation doctrine.5.Dimaya, 138 S. Ct. at 1212.Show More In his Dimaya dissent, Justice Thomas noted that the “Court’s precedents have occasionally described the vagueness doctrine in terms of nondelegation.”6.Id.at 1248 (Thomas, J., dissenting).Show More Most notably, in Gundy, Justice Gorsuch argued that “most any challenge to a legislative delegation can be reframed as a vagueness complaint,” and that the Court’s “void-for-vagueness cases became much more common soon after the Court began relaxing its approach to legislative delegations.”7.Gundy, 139 S. Ct. at 2142 (Gorsuch, J., dissenting).Show More That is, as the Court backed away from using the nondelegation doctrine to police Congress’s delegation of its legislative power in the second half of the twentieth century, the Court began using vagueness to do the work that nondelegation would have done otherwise.

This Note picks up on the thread that Justice Gorsuch started in Gundy and explores the relationship between vagueness and nondelegation. In so doing, this Note offers two main contributions.

First, it concludes that as a historical matter, Justice Gorsuch’s claim about vagueness replacing nondelegation tells only part of the story. The Note looks to pre- and post-New Deal doctrinal development of both vagueness and nondelegation to conclude that while the doctrines have some overlap, Justice Gorsuch overstated their connection. The Court’s vagueness cases from the late 1800s, the early days of the doctrine, did indeed police legislative delegations. But the cases that came after 1937 did not. The Court instead began using vagueness to protect individual rights like free speech. It also wielded vagueness to protect racial minorities from invidious discrimination by state and local police. In these post-New Deal vagueness cases, federal nondelegation concerns were largely absent. This version of vagueness did not replace the nondelegation doctrine, which the Court largely discarded.

Still, the Roberts Court picked up where the early vagueness cases left off; nondelegation again entered the realm of vagueness. In modern vagueness cases, concerns of individual rights and free speech are absent. Also absent are issues of invidious racial discrimination. These cases instead emphasize the proper constitutional role of Congress, the executive, and the judiciary within the federal separation of powers. To the extent that the Court and Justice Gorsuch see an overlap between vagueness and nondelegation, it is this line of cases that they see.

In effect, there are two vagueness doctrines. One comprises the majority of the Court’s vagueness cases after the New Deal era, including the landmark case Papachristou v. City of Jacksonville. The second has its origins in the earliest vagueness cases. And although this latter doctrine subsided after 1937, the Court has revived it in recent cases like Dimaya and Davis.

This Note categorizes the Court’s vagueness cases into (1) Rights-Based Vagueness and (2) Structure-Based Vagueness. Although both categories of cases involve due process concerns, they diverge from there. Cases like Papachristou, and their emphasis on individual rights and equal protection, comprise Rights-Based Vagueness. In contrast, Structure-Based Vagueness is the vagueness that the Court employs in Dimaya, Davis, and Gundy. In these latter cases, the Court emphasizes nondelegation and the separation of powers. To the extent that vagueness and nondelegation converge, it is in the context of Structure-Based Vagueness. This Note thus offers its second contribution: categorizing the Court’s vagueness cases and recognizing the categories for what they are.

Recognizing Structure-Based Vagueness for what it is has important implications. Identifying this category adds analytical clarity to the literature on the intersection of vagueness and nondelegation, which to this point has remained cursory and underdeveloped. It further offers insight into how a vagueness doctrine that was previously wielded to address racial discrimination by local police has transformed into a vagueness doctrine that seemingly only has purchase in challenges to federal malum prohibitum crimes. This Note thus adds to the realist literature that views vagueness doctrine as a doctrinal makeweight, which can be reshaped to serve broader and unrelated judicial values and priorities.

Identifying Structure-Based Vagueness has practical consequences too. Structure-Based Vagueness offers common ground to criminal justice reformers and immigrant rights advocates on the one hand, and conservative-libertarians interested in curbing the power of the federal government on the other. By employing the rhetoric of separation of powers in their vagueness arguments, criminal justice reformers and immigrant rights advocates can win meaningful progressive victories from a Court enamored with nondelegation. Moreover, Structure-Based Vagueness offers a limiting principle to opponents of a more aggressive nondelegation doctrine. By tying Structure-Based Vagueness and its nondelegation component to their underlying rationales, skeptics of the nondelegation doctrine can cabin its application to only criminal and penal laws, reducing the potentially harmful impact that a more rigid doctrine would have on environmental, labor, and other economic regulations.

This Note proceeds in four Parts. Part I provides a brief summary of the vagueness and nondelegation doctrines and canvasses literature that addresses their intersection. It then summarizes the Court’s decisions in Dimaya, Davis, and Gundy and draws out Justice Gorsuch’s specific claim about the relationship between vagueness and nondelegation. Part II inspects the historical trajectory of both doctrines, beginning just before the Lochner era and ending with today’s Roberts Court. It uses this history to challenge Justice Gorsuch’s claim. Part III then categorizes vagueness into its two conceptions—Rights-Based Vagueness and Structure-Based Vagueness. Part IV explores the theory behind Structure-Based Vagueness and identifies future applications. A brief conclusion follows.

  1. Risa L. Goluboff, Dispatch from the Supreme Court Archives: Vagrancy, Abortion, and What the Links Between Them Reveal About the History of Fundamental Rights,
    62

    Stan. L. Rev.

    1361, 1387 (2010).

  2. 139 S. Ct. 2319, 2336 (2019).
  3. 138 S. Ct. 1204, 1223 (2018).
  4. 139 S. Ct. 2116, 2122 (2019).
  5. Dimaya, 138 S. Ct. at 1212.
  6. Id. at 1248 (Thomas, J., dissenting).
  7. Gundy, 139 S. Ct. at 2142 (Gorsuch, J., dissenting).

Pretrial Detention and the Value of Liberty

How dangerous must a person be to justify the state in locking her up for the greater good? The bail reform movement, which aspires to limit pretrial detention to the truly dangerous—and which has looked to algorithmic risk assessments to quantify danger—has brought this question to the fore. Constitutional doctrine authorizes pretrial detention when the government’s interest in safety “outweighs” an individual’s interest in liberty, but it does not specify how to balance these goods. If detaining ten presumptively innocent people for three months is projected to prevent one robbery, is it worth it?

This Article confronts the question of what degree of risk justifies pretrial preventive detention if one takes the consequentialist approach of current law seriously. Surveying the law, we derive two principles: 1) detention must avert greater harm (by preventing crime) than it inflicts (by depriving a person of liberty); and 2) prohibitions against pretrial punishment mean that the harm experienced by the detainee cannot be discounted in the cost-benefit calculus. With this conceptual framework in place, we develop a novel empirical method for estimating the relative personal cost of incarceration and crime victimization that we call relative harm valuation: a survey method that asks respondents to choose between being the victim of certain crimes or being jailed for varying time periods. The results suggest that even short periods of incarceration impose grave harms, such that a person must pose an extremely high risk of serious crime in order for detention to be justified. No existing risk assessment tool is sufficient to identify individuals who warrant detention. The results demonstrate that the stated consequentialist rationale for pretrial detention cannot begin to justify our current detention rates. They suggest that the existing system is instead inflicting pretrial punishment, and they counsel a rethinking of pretrial law and policy.

Introduction

Suppose we can avert an armed robbery by incarcerating ten people for thirty days each. We do not know which of the ten would otherwise commit the crime, and the incarceration is not justified as punishment. Is it worth it? How many people should we be willing to lock up to prevent one future crime?

“None!” you may answer, on the ground that the state may never lock up any person solely to prevent future crime—at least not any person who is a responsible agent with her cognitive faculties intact. We live in a liberal democracy, not a dystopia.1.See generally Minority Report (20th Century Fox 2002) (depicting dystopian future in which future-criminals are incapacitated before they commit any crime).Show More You may be forgiven; this view has wide currency among thoughtful people.2.See, e.g., Laurence H. Tribe, An Ounce of Detention: Preventative Justice in the World of John Mitchell, 56 Va. L. Rev. 371, 376–77 (1970) [hereinafter Tribe, An Ounce of Detention]; Laurence H. Tribe, Trial by Mathematics: Precision and Ritual in the Legal Process, 84 Harv. L. Rev. 1329, 1370 (1971); see also infra notes 78–79 and accompanying text (addressing this perspective).Show More

But your indignation runs counter to the facts and the law. Contrary to common perception, preventive detention is not just the stuff of science fiction. Governments of contemporary liberal democracies routinely engage in preventive detention of many forms. Pretrial detention is one type. Other types include juvenile detention, immigration detention, and manifold variants of short- and long-term civil commitment.3.See infra notes 58–64 and accompanying text.Show More In each of these fields, the government claims authority to deprive people of liberty solely on the basis that custody is necessary to prevent a person from committing future harm.4.There are also forms of preventive detention that seek to avert unintentional rather than, or in addition to, willful acts of harm. Examples include quarantine to prevent the spread of communicable disease, as we know all too well, and jury sequestration. For discussions of the law of jury sequestration, see, e.g., Marcy Strauss, Sequestration, 24 Am. J. Crim. L. 63 (1996); James P. Levine, The Impact of Sequestration on Juries, 79 Judicature 266 (1996).Show More The state makes no claim that the person to be detained has forfeited her right to liberty or that the deprivation is deserved. The detention is not punishment. Instead, the detention is “regulatory.” The U.S. Supreme Court has long authorized such practices.5.See infra notes 34–43 and accompanying text.Show More Indeed, it is hard to imagine functional governance without them.

Nonetheless, preventive detention is terrifying. It does not adhere to the central constraint on criminal punishment—that it may be imposed only for a past wrongful act.6.See H.L.A. Hart, Punishment and Responsibility: Essays in the Philosophy of Law 1, 23 (2d ed. 2008) (explaining how this constraint on punishment “maximizes individual freedom within the coercive framework of law”); Douglas Husak, Overcriminalization: The Limits of the Criminal Law (2008) (describing conceptual constraints on punishment).Show More The justification for preventive detention is merely “risk,” and risk is amorphous. So the central question for any preventive detention regime is what kind and degree of risk is sufficient to justify the detention at issue. If we incarcerate people who have a 20% chance of otherwise committing an assault during the period of detention, for instance, we can expect to prevent one assault for every five detentions. Is such detention justified? How much liberty should we sacrifice to prevent one crime?

As is, there is nothing approaching a consensus answer to this question.7.See generally Christopher Slobogin, A Jurisprudence of Dangerousness, 98 Nw. U. L. Rev. 1 (2003) (urging scholars and courts to develop more coherent standards for preventive deprivations of liberty).Show More Courts and legislatures routinely assert the regulatory power of the state to detain those who pose a great enough risk, but even in long-standing preventive detention regimes, the relevant legal standards are vague at best.8.See infra Section I.A.Show More Generations of scholars have lamented the lack of legal guidance. Few have offered specific guidance themselves.9.See Alan Dershowitz, The Origins of Preventive Confinement in Anglo-American Law — Part I: The English Experience, 43 U. Cin. L. Rev. 1, 60 (1974) (“We have not even begun to ask these kinds of questions, or to develop modes of analysis for answering them.”).Show More The problem is that the question requires an explicit tradeoff between liberty and security, values that are infrequently measured and difficult to compare.

Difficulties notwithstanding, the bail reform movement has now placed the question of what risk justifies preventive detention squarely at center stage.10 10.See Sandra G. Mayson, Dangerous Defendants, 127 Yale L.J. 490, 494 (2018) [hereinafter Mayson, Dangerous Defendants] (“[Bail reform] holds great promise, but also raises an extremely difficult question: what probability that a person will commit unspecified future crime justifies detention . . . ?”).Show More Jurisdictions around the country are forsaking money bail in favor of more intentional decisions about pretrial custody. The new systems aspire to detain those arrested persons who pose a true threat and release everyone else on appropriate conditions.11 11.See Stephanie Wykstra, Bail Reform, Which Could Save Millions of Unconvicted People from Jail, Explained, Vox (Oct. 17, 2018, 7:30 AM), https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/2018/10/17/17955306/bail-reform-criminal-justice-inequality [https://perma.cc/V3Q​S-J69G].Show More Flight risk is also a concern in the pretrial context, but a distinctly secondary one in practice.12 12.Samuel R. Wiseman, Pretrial Detention and the Right to Be Monitored, 123 Yale L.J. 1344, 1351 (2014) (“Historically, the U.S. system of bail and associated pretrial detention was employed solely to prevent pretrial flight, but increasingly, the many individuals awaiting trial in jail are detained because a judge has deemed them potentially dangerous.”). For a thoughtful discussion of the various kinds of risk, often lumped together as “flight risk,” see Lauryn P. Gouldin, Defining Flight Risk, 85 U. Chi. L. Rev. 677 (2018).Show More The aspiration to limit detention to the dangerous requires each pretrial system to decide what kind of threat justifies detention. The advent of statistical risk assessment has crystallized the question further by forcing courts and stakeholders to deal in quantified probabilities and to confront the limits of prediction.13 13.John Monahan & Eric Silver, Judicial Decision Thresholds for Violence Risk Management, 2 Int’l J. of Forensic Mental Health 1, 6 (2003) (“The necessity for choosing a decision threshold for risk management decisions, long implicit in clinical risk assessment, is made apparent in actuarial prediction.”).Show More Every jurisdiction that authorizes pretrial detention, and every court that imposes it, must decide what degree of risk warrants depriving a person of liberty.

This Article tackles the question of when pretrial detention is warranted to prevent future crime.14 14.Cf. Mayson, Dangerous Defendants, supra note 10, at 557–60 (reserving judgment on the degree of risk that justifies preventive detention). This Article does not address the power of courts to detain an accused person who has violated a court-imposed condition of release.Show More Whereas the great bulk of prior scholarship on pretrial detention has focused on the shortcomings of current law,15 15.E.g., Albert W. Alschuler, Preventive Pretrial Detention and the Failure of Interest-Balancing Approaches to Due Process, 85 Mich. L. Rev. 510 (1986); Chalmous G. Reemes, United States v. Salerno: The Validation of Preventive Detention and the Denial of a Presumed Constitutional Right to Bail, 41 Ark. L. Rev. 697, 719–22 (1988).Show More we take existing law as a given. This is not to endorse existing law as representing the best possible policy approach to detention. The project, rather, is to take existing legal doctrine seriously and to ask when detention meets the law’s criteria. We present a conceptual framework for answering the question and then a novel empirical method for implementing the framework.

The conceptual framework is a straightforward consequentialist one. Constitutional law authorizes pretrial detention when the government’s interest in safety “outweighs” the individual’s interest in liberty.16 16.See infra notes 29–44 and accompanying text.Show More On our reading, this doctrine establishes a simple cost-benefit framework.17 17.See infra Section I.B.Show More In order to be justified in those terms, pretrial detention must, at minimum, avert more harm than it inflicts. The most significant harms at stake are the cost of crime to the potential crime victim and the cost of pretrial detention to the detainee. Within this calculus, prohibitions against pretrial punishment mean that the well-being of the arrestee must be fully considered. The challenge is thus to develop a direct measure of the relative harms of incarceration and crime.

To meet the challenge, the Article deploys a novel form of contingent valuation that we call “relative harm valuation” (“RHV”).18 18.We developed this concept and conducted our first study in 2017 but learned in the spring of 2020 that others have used the same method in other contexts. Most notably, the legal scholars Jane Bambauer and Andrea Roth have used a similar survey method to estimate when carceral punishment becomes “excessive” for constitutional purposes. See infra note 119. Conversations with Bambauer and Roth were valuable in refining our approach. We consider the existence of these other efforts to be a strength of the present study rather than a weakness. The other studies to have deployed RHV have also documented a surprising degree of aversion to incarceration or involuntary commitment among a sizable portion of respondents. See infra note 141.Show More It aims to estimate the relative harm of incarceration versus crime victimization while avoiding some of the distortions that plague traditional cost-benefit and contingent-valuation methods. Our method is intentionally simple, and it echoes John Rawls’ famous notion that the principles of justice are those that a rational person would choose behind a “veil of ignorance” as to her own traits and position in society.19 19.John Rawls, A Theory of Justice 118 (2d ed. 1999).Show More Adapting his effort to detach normative analysis from self-interest, we conduct a survey that requires respondents to compare the costs of detention and crime directly, imagining themselves as both detainee and as crime victim. We ask questions like, “How much time in jail is as bad as being the victim of a burglary?” and, “If you had to choose between spending a month in jail or being the victim of a burglary, which would you choose?”20 20.This method is a variant of the survey technique formally known as “contingent valuation,” which has provided most of the commonly used estimates for the costs of crime. See infra notes 103–07 and accompanying text.Show More

The survey results suggest that people view incarceration as an incredibly harmful experience. Most would choose crime-victimization over even short jail stints. The median respondent says that a single day in jail is as costly as a burglary, that three days are as costly as a robbery, and that a month in jail is as costly as an aggravated assault. Notably, these results are very consistent across race, gender, and socioeconomic class of the respondent. They are also quite similar for those who have personal experience with incarceration or crime victimization. Aversion to incarceration is broad and widespread.

By focusing on costs to the crime victim and incarcerated person, our method puts aside indirect and fiscal costs. However, we expect these to accrue on both sides of the ledger. Crime can create fear in the community, but so can incarceration. Law enforcement and prosecution are expensive to the state, but so is incarceration. Including such costs might make the analysis more nuanced, but we do not think it would meaningfully change the main result: that even a short period of incarceration inflicts very grave harms.

The severity of the harm that incarceration inflicts (according to our median respondent) means that preventive detention can only be justified on consequentialist grounds if there is a very high risk that the person would otherwise commit serious crime. Jailing a person for thirty days is justifiable only if it is expected to prevent crimes at least as harmful as a serious assault. Jailing someone for just one day is justifiable only if it averts crime as serious as burglary. These risk thresholds are higher than we can meet with statistical evidence. In studies of one widely used risk assessment tool, for instance, even defendants in the highest risk group have only a 2.5% chance of rearrest for a violent offense within a month.21 21.See Thomas Blomberg, William Bales, Karen Mann, Ryann Meldrum & Joe Nedelec, Ctr. for Criminology and Pub. Pol’y Rsch., Validation of the COMPAS Risk Assessment Classification Instrument 47 tbl.8 (2010).Show More We would have to detain forty such people for one month each, not just one person, to expect to avert one violent offense.

Given the high risk-threshold for preventive detention and the limits of our predictive abilities, pretrial detention on the basis of dangerousness should be rare. But it is not. On any given day, almost 500,000 people are held in jails awaiting trial.22 22.Zhen Zeng, Bureau of Just. Stat., Jail Inmates in 2017, 1 fig.1, 5 tbl.3 (2019), www.bjs.gov/content/pub/pdf/ji17.pdf [https://perma.cc/NPM3-NP84].Show More Many more cycle through pretrial detention each year.23 23.Id. at 1.Show More A significant number of these detentions may be the unintentional result of a court setting money bail that the accused cannot afford.24 24.E.g., Sandra G. Mayson, Detention by Any Other Name, 69 Duke L.J. 1643, 1653 (2020) [hereinafter Mayson, Detention by Any Other Name] (citing statistics regarding detention on money bail).Show More A much smaller number may be justified on the basis of flight risk—a ground for detention that this paper does not address.25 25.But see Wiseman, supra note 12, at 1349 (arguing that detention is rarely necessary to manage flight risk given advancing surveillance technologies).Show More Yet the centrality of public-safety discourse in the growing backlash to bail reform efforts demonstrates that crime risk dwarfs flight risk, in the view of both courts and the public, as a concern in the pretrial phase.26 26.See, e.g., Jesse McKinley, The Bail Reform Backlash that Has Democrats at War, N.Y. Times (Feb. 14, 2020), https://www.nytimes.com/2020/02/14/nyregion/new-york-bail-reform.html [https://perma.cc/NU9F-B3RZ]; see also, e.g., H.R. 81, 2020 Leg., Reg. Sess. (Ala. 2020) (proposing amendment to state constitution to permit pretrial detention for dangerousness).Show More The focus on crime risk suggests that a substantial portion of the millions of people who cycle through jails each year are there because they were perceived to be dangerous.

There are many possible explanations for the dramatic gap between theory and practice. The most likely, we surmise, is that current practice reflects an implicit discounting of the value of detainees’ well-being relative to the well-being of potential crime victims. This might be because accused people are viewed as criminals who have forfeited the right to liberty; because accused people are disproportionately Black, brown, and poor while the paradigmatic crime victim in the public imagination is white and wealthy; because pretrial detention is assumed to be credited against legitimate punishment imposed after conviction; or all of the above.

Some of these grounds for discounting the welfare of arrestees are easier to dismiss than others. The most difficult ground to dismiss is the idea that arrestees are not entitled to the same concern as crime victims because they are not wholly innocent; they are in some manner culpable for having created the risk at issue. As one of us has written elsewhere, this notion runs headlong into the presumption of innocence and prohibition on pretrial punishment, foundational principles of the American legal order.27 27.Mayson, Dangerous Defendants, supra note 10, at 537–38.Show More It is extremely difficult to reconcile those principles with the idea that the state can discount the welfare of arrestees on the basis of their (probable) guilt. Yet the intuition that the state may treat accused persons as having impaired moral status is strong, and in some circumstances, it seems unjust not to discount an arrestee’s welfare relative to a person the arrestee is credibly alleged to have threatened.

This Article does not resolve the conflict between the prohibition on pretrial punishment and the human impulse to discount the welfare of arrestees in a cost-benefit calculus. Rather, it demonstrates that a rigorous consequentialist analysis raises deep questions about how the law ought to value individual liberty and welfare, questions that echo across many fields of law. It also demonstrates that, left unexamined, consequentialist rationales can mask decision-making processes that rely on judgments of worth or that are dictated by perverse incentives. Confronting these processes will be important to the long-term success of pretrial reform.

This Article makes four contributions. The first is to fully articulate the consequentialist conceptual framework for detention decisions that current law entails. The second is the method we devise to apply that framework: relative harm valuation, which allows for the comparison of intangible harms without resorting to the distorting intermediary of dollars. This Article’s third contribution is the information the survey reveals: Even short periods of jail detention impose harms as grave as serious crimes. The logical corollary is that if we value the liberty of accused people and crime victims by a common standard, pretrial detention for the purpose of preventing crime is almost never warranted on cost-benefit grounds. Finally, in illuminating the chasm between the cost-benefit rationale for pretrial detention and our actual practices, this Article highlights the need for policymakers, courts, and bail reformers to grapple with the retributive impulse and institutional incentives that shape detention practice on the ground.

This Article proceeds in three Parts. Part I describes the legal doctrine that authorizes pretrial preventive detention on cost-benefit grounds. It extrapolates the consequentialist conceptual framework that this doctrine implies, then explains why existing empirical methods are inadequate to weigh the harm of criminal victimization against the harm of incarceration. Part II presents our relative-harm-valuation surveys and explains the results. Part III explores the implications of the survey results for pretrial policy and beyond.

  1. See generally Minority Report (20th Century Fox 2002) (depicting dystopian future in which future-criminals are incapacitated before they commit any crime).
  2. See, e.g., Laurence H. Tribe, An Ounce of Detention: Preventative Justice in the World of John Mitchell, 56 Va. L. Rev. 371, 376–77 (1970) [hereinafter Tribe, An Ounce of Detention]; Laurence H. Tribe, Trial by Mathematics: Precision and Ritual in the Legal Process, 84 Harv. L. Rev. 1329, 1370 (1971); see also infra notes 78–79 and accompanying text (addressing this perspective).
  3. See infra notes 58–64 and accompanying text.
  4. There are also forms of preventive detention that seek to avert unintentional rather than, or in addition to, willful acts of harm. Examples include quarantine to prevent the spread of communicable disease, as we know all too well, and jury sequestration. For discussions of the law of jury sequestration, see, e.g., Marcy Strauss, Sequestration, 24 Am. J. Crim. L. 63 (1996); James P. Levine, The Impact of Sequestration on Juries, 79 Judicature 266 (1996).
  5. See infra notes 34–43 and accompanying text.
  6. See H.L.A. Hart, Punishment and Responsibility: Essays in the Philosophy of Law 1, 23 (2d ed. 2008) (explaining how this constraint on punishment “maximizes individual freedom within the coercive framework of law”); Douglas Husak, Overcriminalization: The Limits of the Criminal Law (2008) (describing conceptual constraints on punishment).
  7. See generally Christopher Slobogin, A Jurisprudence of Dangerousness, 98 Nw. U. L. Rev. 1 (2003) (urging scholars and courts to develop more coherent standards for preventive deprivations of liberty).
  8. See infra Section I.A.
  9. See Alan Dershowitz, The Origins of Preventive Confinement in Anglo-American Law — Part I: The English Experience, 43 U. Cin. L. Rev. 1, 60 (1974) (“We have not even begun to ask these kinds of questions, or to develop modes of analysis for answering them.”).
  10. See Sandra G. Mayson, Dangerous Defendants, 127 Yale L.J. 490, 494 (2018) [hereinafter Mayson, Dangerous Defendants] (“[Bail reform] holds great promise, but also raises an extremely difficult question: what probability that a person will commit unspecified future crime justifies detention . . . ?”).
  11. See Stephanie Wykstra, Bail Reform, Which Could Save Millions of Unconvicted People from Jail, Explained, Vox (Oct. 17, 2018, 7:30 AM), https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/2018/10/17/17955306/bail-reform-criminal-justice-inequality [https://perma.cc/V3Q​S-J69G].
  12. Samuel R. Wiseman, Pretrial Detention and the Right to Be Monitored, 123 Yale L.J. 1344, 1351 (2014) (“Historically, the U.S. system of bail and associated pretrial detention was employed solely to prevent pretrial flight, but increasingly, the many individuals awaiting trial in jail are detained because a judge has deemed them potentially dangerous.”). For a thoughtful discussion of the various kinds of risk, often lumped together as “flight risk,” see Lauryn P. Gouldin, Defining Flight Risk, 85 U. Chi. L. Rev. 677 (2018).
  13. John Monahan & Eric Silver, Judicial Decision Thresholds for Violence Risk Management, 2 Int’l J. of Forensic Mental Health 1, 6 (2003) (“The necessity for choosing a decision threshold for risk management decisions, long implicit in clinical risk assessment, is made apparent in actuarial prediction.”).
  14. Cf. Mayson, Dangerous Defendants, supra note 10, at 557–60 (reserving judgment on the degree of risk that justifies preventive detention). This Article does not address the power of courts to detain an accused person who has violated a court-imposed condition of release.
  15. E.g., Albert W. Alschuler, Preventive Pretrial Detention and the Failure of Interest-Balancing Approaches to Due Process, 85 Mich. L. Rev. 510 (1986); Chalmous G. Reemes, United States v. Salerno: The Validation of Preventive Detention and the Denial of a Presumed Constitutional Right to Bail, 41 Ark. L. Rev. 697, 719–22 (1988).
  16. See infra notes 29–44 and accompanying text.
  17. See infra Section I.B.
  18. We developed this concept and conducted our first study in 2017 but learned in the spring of 2020 that others have used the same method in other contexts. Most notably, the legal scholars Jane Bambauer and Andrea Roth have used a similar survey method to estimate when carceral punishment becomes “excessive” for constitutional purposes. See infra note 119. Conversations with Bambauer and Roth were valuable in refining our approach. We consider the existence of these other efforts to be a strength of the present study rather than a weakness. The other studies to have deployed RHV have also documented a surprising degree of aversion to incarceration or involuntary commitment among a sizable portion of respondents. See infra note 141.
  19. John Rawls, A Theory of Justice 118 (2d ed. 1999).
  20. This method is a variant of the survey technique formally known as “contingent valuation,” which has provided most of the commonly used estimates for the costs of crime. See infra notes 103–07 and accompanying text.
  21. See Thomas Blomberg, William Bales, Karen Mann, Ryann Meldrum & Joe Nedelec, Ctr. for Criminology and Pub. Pol’y Rsch., Validation of the COMPAS Risk Assessment Classification Instrument 47 tbl.8 (2010).
  22. Zhen Zeng, Bureau of Just. Stat., Jail Inmates in 2017, 1 fig.1, 5 tbl.3 (2019), www.bjs.gov/content/pub/pdf/ji17.pdf [https://perma.cc/NPM3-NP84].
  23. Id. at 1.
  24. E.g., Sandra G. Mayson, Detention by Any Other Name, 69 Duke L.J. 1643, 1653 (2020) [hereinafter Mayson, Detention by Any Other Name] (citing statistics regarding detention on money bail).
  25. But see Wiseman, supra note 12, at 1349 (arguing that detention is rarely necessary to manage flight risk given advancing surveillance technologies).
  26. See, e.g., Jesse McKinley, The Bail Reform Backlash that Has Democrats at War, N.Y. Times (Feb. 14, 2020), https://www.nytimes.com/2020/02/14/nyregion/new-york-bail-reform.html [https://perma.cc/NU9F-B3RZ]; see also, e.g., H.R. 81, 2020 Leg., Reg. Sess. (Ala. 2020) (proposing amendment to state constitution to permit pretrial detention for dangerousness).
  27. Mayson, Dangerous Defendants, supra note 10, at 537–38.