E-mail:
Jack Balkin: jackbalkin at yahoo.com
Bruce Ackerman bruce.ackerman at yale.edu
Ian Ayres ian.ayres at yale.edu
Corey Brettschneider corey_brettschneider at brown.edu
Mary Dudziak mary.l.dudziak at emory.edu
Joey Fishkin joey.fishkin at gmail.com
Heather Gerken heather.gerken at yale.edu
Abbe Gluck abbe.gluck at yale.edu
Mark Graber mgraber at law.umaryland.edu
Stephen Griffin sgriffin at tulane.edu
Jonathan Hafetz jonathan.hafetz at shu.edu
Jeremy Kessler jkessler at law.columbia.edu
Andrew Koppelman akoppelman at law.northwestern.edu
Marty Lederman msl46 at law.georgetown.edu
Sanford Levinson slevinson at law.utexas.edu
David Luban david.luban at gmail.com
Gerard Magliocca gmaglioc at iupui.edu
Jason Mazzone mazzonej at illinois.edu
Linda McClain lmcclain at bu.edu
John Mikhail mikhail at law.georgetown.edu
Frank Pasquale pasquale.frank at gmail.com
Nate Persily npersily at gmail.com
Michael Stokes Paulsen michaelstokespaulsen at gmail.com
Deborah Pearlstein dpearlst at yu.edu
Rick Pildes rick.pildes at nyu.edu
David Pozen dpozen at law.columbia.edu
Richard Primus raprimus at umich.edu
K. Sabeel Rahmansabeel.rahman at brooklaw.edu
Alice Ristroph alice.ristroph at shu.edu
Neil Siegel siegel at law.duke.edu
David Super david.super at law.georgetown.edu
Brian Tamanaha btamanaha at wulaw.wustl.edu
Nelson Tebbe nelson.tebbe at brooklaw.edu
Mark Tushnet mtushnet at law.harvard.edu
Adam Winkler winkler at ucla.edu
I became
interested in libertarianism by accident.
In 2010 I was invited to give a presentation about recent constitutional
challenges to Obamacare. I hadn’t
followed that litigation. I looked at
the objections and concluded that they were nonsense, as many other scholars
did.
Then, to the surprise of many, two
federal district courts declared the law unconstitutional.
I got upset. The reasoning was flagrantly bad, manifestly
driven by the judges’ political views. So
I wrote up my responses to those decisions and postedthem
on the blog. More such decisions kept coming. With only a few exceptions, judges appointed
by Republicans accepted arguments that were inconsistent with nearly two
hundred years of settled law.
Had I not had the privilege of
easily publishing short, technical legal analyses, I wouldn’t have started
working in this area. But I did, and
eventually, as the Obamacare litigation built up momentum, I became a prominent
enough voice that Oxford University Press solicited a book, which became The
Tough Luck Constitution and the Assault on Health Care Reform.
In that book, I
argued the judges – not just the district judges, but the right wing of the
Supreme Court as well - were in the grip of a philosophy that was no part of
the Constitution, but which they found so compelling that they felt sure it had
to be in there somewhere. (That happens
a lot in constitutional argument.) It
rested on a weird understanding of liberty, which conjured up a right
previously unheard of: the right not to be compelled to pay for an unwanted
service. If people wanted to go without
insurance, it was tyrannical for the state to force it upon them. Government, however, provides myriad services,
paid for by taxes without asking whether the recipients want them. The proposed “right” repudiated sources of
economic security that most Americans depend on, notably Social Security and
Medicare. More broadly, the implication
was anarchy. Why should anyone believe
there was such a right?
As I learned more
about the origins of this litigation, it became clear to me that its deepest
source was libertarian political philosophy.
There were two fundamental objections to Obamacare. One was that it expanded the size of
government. The other was that, while it
concededly provided health care to millions who were doing without, it did so
by raising taxes on prosperous people who had not themselves done anything
wrong.
I thought both
objections repellent. How could people
believe them? And they attracted
unlikely fans. In a revealing moment
during the March 2012 Supreme Court argument over the constitutionality of the
law, Solicitor General Donald Verrilli argued that the state legitimately could
compel Americans to purchase health insurance, because the country is obligated
to pay for the uninsured when they get sick.
Justice Antonin Scalia
responded: “Well, don’t obligate yourself to that.”
He was
saying, in effect, that there is no real obligation
to care for sick people who cannot afford to pay for their own medical care;
that any assumed “obligation” is really a discretionary choice. You can choose to obligate yourself or not.
Verrilli
replied that the Constitution did not “forbid Congress from taking into account
this deeply embedded social norm.”
Scalia didn’t challenge that, but he still was not satisfied. A bit later, he suggested that under the
Constitution, “the people were left to decide whether they want to buy
insurance or not.” This would mean that
any federally required insurance scheme was unconstitutional. Scalia clearly did not mean that. But then, why was he saying these things?
The
arguments against Obamacare frequently took a Manichean form: interference with
market processes, in order to provide health care to those who could not afford
it, was taken to be tantamount to Stalinism.
Our only choices are laissez faire capitalism or totalitarianism. Many of those who made these arguments, I
discovered, were entirely sincere. They
massively misunderstood Obama and what he was trying to do. How could educated people be captured by such
delusions?
I kept thinking about that after The
Tough Luck Constitution was published in 2013. So I found myself writing another book,
digging deeper into the libertarian ideas that were the source of the trouble. It turned out that they were dangerous, not
only to efforts to provide health care to sick people, but to efforts to
contain covid and prevent climate change.
And they contaminate other areas of constitutional law, notably the
capacity of the administrative state to respond to these evils.
Professors like me aren’t active in politics. We sit in our offices and write about
ideas. The important political work that
we can do is clear up ignorance and confusion.
There was plenty of that here. So
I got an opportunity to make myself useful.
This is a public health announcement.
Bad political philosophy can kill you.
In short, lines of inquiry that
were kindled by this blog have dominated my scholarship for some time now. Working with Jack Balkin has sometimes led me
to focus on disgust
and heartbreak,
but from now on I’m going to listen to him.