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
Over a
decade ago, in a more innocent time, Sandy Levinson and I developed a
definition and typology of constitutional
crises. Essentially, constitutional crises occur when the Constitution is
no longer able to keep struggles for power within the boundaries of the
Constitution. In other words, constitutional crises occur when the Constitution
fails at its central task of keeping struggles for power within the legal boundaries
of politics that the Constitution creates and maintains.
Levinson and
I describe three ways this might happen. In Type One crises, political leaders
decide that they will no longer be bound by the Constitution, or they openly
defy a direct judicial order. In Type Two crises, the Constitution makes it
impossible to deal with a crisis or emergency (for example, it because blocks a
necessary response), or the Constitution does not provide for dealing with the crisis
or emergency, so that calamity results. (Type Two crises are rare because
usually political leaders will interpret the Constitution to allow them a way
out of the impasse.) In Type Three crises, disputes over the Constitution grow
so heated that people no longer believe that protest and political organization
within ordinary politics is sufficient. They engage in insurrection, states
attempt to secede, the military stages a coup, or civil war breaks out.
Levinson and
I also argue that if people reasonably believe that the Constitution is about
to fail in one of the above three ways, that is also a constitutional crisis
even if the event hasn't happened yet.
The January
6th insurrection was a Type Three crisis. People engaged in violence to prevent
Congress from certifying Joe Biden's victory in the 2020 presidential election.
Was it also
a Type One crisis? That depends on whether you believe that Trump and his
allies decided to go outside the Constitution to remain in power.
If Trump
incited the protesters at the Stop the Steal rally in order to prevent Congress
from counting the Electoral College votes, or conspired to organize the protests
to achieve the same result, he was attempting to subvert the Constitution, and
that should also be a Type One crisis. (In fact, if he merely took advantage of
the insurrection in order to sow chaos and prevent the counting of the
electoral votes, he would also be trying to subvert the Constitution.)
Levinson and
I have previously suggested that in a Type One crisis political leaders must
openly declare that they are going outside the Constitution or defying the
Supreme Court. But in light of the events of January 6th we should add that if
a President plots in secret to subvert constitutional processes—and in particular
to prevent a peaceful transition of power—it does not matter that the President
does not declare his or her intentions publicly.
Trump's
lawyer John Eastman hatched a plan by which Vice-President Pence would refuse
to count certain electoral votes and either declare the election for Trump or
throw the election into the House of Representatives, where Republicans
controlled a majority of state delegations.
If Trump put Eastman's plan into motion, would this also constitute a Type One crisis? According to news reports, Eastman told
Trump that his plan was perfectly constitutional. (Vice-President Pence
disagreed.) Therefore Eastman and Trump might argue that this was a just a garden-variety
dispute over constitutional interpretation, and therefore not a constitutional crisis.
Levinson and I have argued that mere disagreements over the interpretation of
the Constitution do not constitute a constitutional crisis as long as there is
a way to resolve the dispute peacefully within the judicial or political
system. Eastman might argue that this was precisely what was happening here.
But this argument
conceives of the situation too narrowly. The question is not whether Eastman
believed he had a colorable legal argument, but what people reasonably believed
might happen if his scheme unfolded as planned.
First, people
might reasonably believe that Eastman’s arguments were specious and frivolous,
so that if Pence carried out the stunt at Trump’s instigation, the result would
involve a deliberate attempt to subvert a constitutional process. (Type One).
Second, people
might reasonably believe that the stunt would create a power vacuum that the
Constitution did not provide for, which, in turn, would produce chaos and
encourage foreign aggression (Type Two).
Finally,
people might reasonably fear that if Biden and Trump claimed that the other had
stolen the election, there was a real danger that the military might intervene,
or that violence and civil war might break out. This would be a Type Three
Crisis.
Thus, even
if some of the participants asserted that there was nothing more than a disagreement
over the best interpretation of the Constitution, there can still be a
constitutional crisis depending on the larger context of the dispute. But note
that this analysis requires that we can tell when people have a reasonable fear
of constitutional failure. In a highly politically charged environment, that
question, too, will be disputed.
A second
important question is whether the constitutional crisis that occurred on
January 6th, 2021 is over. That depends on what you think the crisis
was. If the crisis consisted only of the attack on the Capitol, the crisis was
over in a single day. But if the crisis was an ongoing attempt to subvert the
electoral system (Type One), or there is a real danger of repeated attempts to use
violence to prevent the transition of power (Type Three), the constitutional
crisis is probably not over.
Because it
is so difficult to predict what will happen in the next few years, the language
of crisis, which suggests immediate danger or proximity to harm, may not be
helpful in understanding our current situation. Instead, I have argued that we
are in a prolonged state of constitutional rot, in which democratic
institutions—and the trust and forbearance necessary to keep those institutions
functioning properly—are wasting away.
Rot and
crisis, however, are related concepts. Constitutional rot slowly destroys the
culture of democracy that is necessary for a democratic constitution to
function, and thus increases the chances of constitutional failure. If constitutional
rot continues unchecked, at some point it produces episodes of constitutional crisis,
as it did on January 6th.
So in
addition to focusing on constitutional crisis, we should also focus on constitutional rot. The
real problem is that the rot continues, and has gotten even deeper. That is
reason to think that the crisis of January 6th will repeat itself,
or that there will be something even worse.