“No man is to be brought into jeopardy of his life, more than once, for the same
offense.” This ancient maxim, preserved in the Double Jeopardy Clause of the
Fifth Amendment, is a hallmark of the American justice system. The Double
Jeopardy Clause gives a criminal defendant the constitutional right not to be
tried again for the same offense after being acquitted. This guarantee stands as
“[p]erhaps the most fundamental rule in the history of double jeopardy
jurisprudence.”
The Supreme Court of the United States has repeatedly upheld these principles;
by refusing to allow retrial following an acquittal, the Court underscores the
importance of the constitutional protections afforded by the Double Jeopardy
Clause. This posture, however, presents a broader tension between state autonomy
and federal oversight. While states possess the authority to enact and enforce
their own legislative and judicial principles, they remain bound by the
Constitution. This tension requires states to carefully navigate the exercise of
their traditional autonomy while remaining within the framework of the
Constitution’s governing provisions.
The exclusionary rule is a judicially created sanction applied by the Supreme
Court of the United States to effectuate the intent of the protections provided
by the Fourth Amendment. This rule aims to deter police misconduct by presenting
a sanction barring the prosecution from presenting evidence obtained through a
Fourth Amendment violation. Despite this honorable intention, however, the
rule’s exceptions have arguably eroded the protections it seeks to provide. One
such exception is the independent source doctrine. Tatum v. State is one of the
most recent decisions by the Supreme Court of Georgia in which the court
considered applying this doctrine to a case involving a Fourth Amendment
violation. The decision adopted the two-step analysis utilized by the United
States Court of Appeals for the Eleventh Circuit and thus marks the adoption of
a new test that Georgia prosecutors must satisfy when attempting to introduce
evidence under the independent source doctrine. Furthermore, this adoption could
indicate the Georgia courts’ possible inclination to demand stricter standards
in cases involving exceptions to the exclusionary rule.
The Second Amendment provides, “[a] well regulated Militia, being necessary to
the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms,
shall not be infringed.” The inception of this amendment was rooted in the
Founding Fathers’ Enlightenment ideals and disapproval of the English Crown’s
“standing armies.” In founding-era America, the militias were not composed of
professional soldiers but instead of local citizens with the aim of providing
common defense. The main concern surrounding the ratification was that the
Second Amendment would give too much power to the federal government and result
in the same centralized military power that existed in Great Britain.
This Comment is not intended to patronize you with statistics related to the
COVID-19 pandemic. The odds suggest that you or someone you love dealt with
these gruesome realities in real-time. Instead, allow me to paint a picture:1
You direct hospital operations. You have built your career at a trauma hospital,
so you are familiar with the stress that comes with a daily ratio of six
patients to one nurse—and yet, COVID-19 brings constantly evolving challenges
that no one anticipated. On a typical day, during the height of the pandemic,
your consecutive twelve-hour workdays become a blur as you and your staff tackle
any combination of the following challenges: find more hospital beds for the
increasing volume of patients. Find more personal protective equipment (PPE)2
for your staff and, when these resources become too scarce, develop and
implement policies to sanitize and reuse PPE. Intubate3 critical care patients.
Anticipate the number of ventilators4 necessary to intubate infected patients
and keep them breathing. Keep them breathing. Balance the personal freedoms of
your beloved staff with masking and vaccination mandates. Inform families that
they cannot visit their hospitalized loved ones because of a policy intended to
prevent the virus from spreading. Care for their loved ones as if they were your
own family. Hold their hands while they take their final breaths.
In the spring of 2024, James and Jennifer Crumbley, parents to Michigan school
shooter Ethan Crumbley, were convicted of involuntary manslaughter after their
son shot and killed four Oxford High School classmates. This decision marks the
first time in the history of the United States that the parents of a school
shooter have been charged criminally for contributing to the death of the
shooting victims, and comes in the midst of an era where our nation is wracked
by gun violence.
In the quarter century since the 1999 Columbine High School shooting, a
generation of children have lived under the threat of school-related gun
violence. School shootings have risen substantially in frequency in the last
twenty-five years. From 1997 to 2022, there were 1,453 school shootings. More
than half of those—794—occurred from 2017 to 2022. In 2023, the United States
saw 346 school shootings, averaging out to nearly one per day.
As the frequency of school shootings has increased, the topics of gun violence
and juvenile delinquency have been cyclically present in the media, election
cycles, and proposed legislation. Research has raised a variety of solutions to
preventing school shootings—including stricter gun laws, community programming
around gun safety, and increased funding for mental health interventions.
However, amid these tragic events, fingers often point not toward lawmakers or
school and community administrators, but toward the parents of the attacker.
The Supreme Court of Georgia dealt a major blow to educators in existing charter
school systems with tenure rights earned under the Fair Dismissal Act (FDA)
after 1993. The court’s decision in Woods v. Barnes meant a big win for existing
charter school systems and public school systems that intend to convert to
charter systems. In Woods, a public school teacher and the Georgia Association
of Educators (GAE) sought enforcement of tenure rights afforded by the Fair
Dismissal Act in a charter school system that was previously a public school
system. These rights included notice of the reasons for termination and the
opportunity for a hearing to challenge those reasons.
Deliberate indifference to the medical care of a loved one, or oneself, rightly
causes outrage. When such an occurrence takes place behind prison walls, inmates
or loved ones on their behalf, file a deliberate indifference claim under 42
U.S.C. § 1983,and they allege a violation of their Eighth Amendment right to be
free of cruel and unusual punishment. However, the test for deliberate
indifference has been misconstrued and misapplied for decades within the United
States Court of Appeals for the Eleventh Circuit. Such a malleable test leads to
different standards of proof for a plaintiff to meet, and confusion among judges
and lawyers alike. Fortunately, the Eleventh Circuit in Wade v. McDade has
settled the standard once and for all. In its en banc decision, the Eleventh
Circuit held that a deliberate-indifference plaintiff must allege and prove more
than gross negligence, which aligns with the criminal recklessness standard set
by the Supreme Court of the United States for such claims.
The exclusionary rule is a judicially created sanction applied by the Supreme
Court of the United States to effectuate the intent of the protections provided
by the Fourth Amendment. This rule aims to deter police misconduct by presenting
a sanction barring the prosecution from presenting evidence obtained through a
Fourth Amendment violation. Despite this honorable intention, however, the
rule’s exceptions have arguably eroded the protections it seeks to provide. One
such exception is the independent source doctrine. Tatum v. State is one of the
most recent decisions by the Supreme Court of Georgia in which the court
considered applying this doctrine to a case involving a Fourth Amendment
violation. The decision adopted the two-step analysis utilized by the United
States Court of Appeals for the Eleventh Circuit and thus marks the adoption of
a new test that Georgia prosecutors must satisfy when attempting to introduce
evidence under the independent source doctrine. Furthermore, this adoption could
indicate the Georgia courts’ possible inclination to demand stricter standards
in cases involving exceptions to the exclusionary rule.
“No man is to be brought into jeopardy of his life, more than once, for the same
offense.” This ancient maxim, preserved in the Double Jeopardy Clause of the
Fifth Amendment, is a hallmark of the American justice system. The Double
Jeopardy Clause gives a criminal defendant the constitutional right not to be
tried again for the same offense after being acquitted. This guarantee stands as
“[p]erhaps the most fundamental rule in the history of double jeopardy
jurisprudence.”
The Supreme Court of the United States has repeatedly upheld these principles;
by refusing to allow retrial following an acquittal, the Court underscores the
importance of the constitutional protections afforded by the Double Jeopardy
Clause. This posture, however, presents a broader tension between state autonomy
and federal oversight. While states possess the authority to enact and enforce
their own legislative and judicial principles, they remain bound by the
Constitution. This tension requires states to carefully navigate the exercise of
their traditional autonomy while remaining within the framework of the
Constitution’s governing provisions.
In Maryland v. Wilson, the United States Supreme Court held that a police
officer may order a passenger of a lawfully stepped car to exit the vehicle.
This "bright-line rule" allows these intrusions as a matter of course and does
not require case-by-case determination.
Four factors were influential in my decision to write this survey paper
summarizing what economists believe theoretically and have found empirically to
be the major economic (and noneconomic) effects of monopoly. First, in my work
as an expert witness in antitrust cases representing both private parties and
public bodies, I have found a glaring lacuna in the minds of some judges, a
number of lawyers and most jurors in the area of antitrust economics. Second,
this feeling has been fortified by my guest lectures in antitrust law courses;
while the students are bright and the teacher dedicated, an acceptable level of
competence in antitrust economics had successfully evaded its pursuers. Third,
my reading of several law journals has convinced me that there are a large
number of legally competent antitrust lawyers who are not very familiar with
antitrust economics.
Finally, I was motivated by the growing realization that people do not regard
antitrust violations as very serious. The July 1974 issue of SCIENCE DIGEST
reported a cross-section study of Baltimore residents in which the respondents
were asked to rate the seriousness of crimes from 9 (most serious) to 1 (least
serious). The highest mean score recorded was "planned killing of a policeman"
(8.474), and the lowest mean score was "being drunk in public places" (2.849).
Of the 140 crimes listed three were of an antitrust genus. "Fixing prices of a
consumer product like gasoline" ranked 126 from the top (4.629), "fixing prices
of machines sold to businesses" ranked 127 (4.619), and "false advertising of a
headache remedy" ranked 132 (4.083). Offenses such as "breaking a plate glass
window in a shop," "refusal to make essential repairs in rental property,"
"shoplifting a carton of cigarettes from a supermarket," "driving while license
is suspended," "lending money at illegal interest rates," "joining a riot," and
"using pep pills" are each regarded as more serious than the antitrust
violations!
In Part I we will explore in some detail the economic (and some noneconomic)
effects of monopoly. In Part II we will examine briefly public policies toward
monopoly.
Social media platforms have overturned the previously known system of public
communication. As predicted at the outset, the spread of the public Internet
that started three decades ago has resulted in a paradigm shift in this field.
Now, anyone can publish their opinion outside the legacy media, at no
significant cost, and can become known and be discussed by others. Due to the
technological characteristics of the Internet, it might also be expected that
this kind of mass expression, with such an abundance of content, would
necessitate the emergence of gatekeepers, similar in function to the ones that
existed earlier for conventional media. The newsagent, post office, and cable or
satellite services have been replaced by the Internet service provider, the
server (host) provider and the like. However, no one could have foreseen that
the new gatekeepers of online communication would not only be neutral
transmitters or repositories but also active shapers of the communication
process, deciding on which user content on the Internet they deemed undesirable
and deciding which content, out of all the theoretically accessible content, is
actually displayed to individual users. Content filtering, deleting, blocking,
suspending, and ranking are all types of active interference with the exercise
of users’ freedom of speech and practices which also affect the interests of
other users in obtaining information. All this became an even greater and more
difficult-to-manage issue when, in certain sub-markets of the Internet, certain
giant tech companies’ services gained a monopoly or came close to doing so. This
process has emerged in connection with gatekeepers of a specific type: the most
important online platforms (social media, video sharing, search engines, web
stores). In this way, a new, unexpected obstacle to the exercise of freedom of
speech appeared, with the result that the earlier constitutional doctrines could
no longer be applied without any change. The crux of the problem is that the
platforms are privately owned. In formal terms, they are simply market players
which are not bound by the guarantees of freedom of speech imposed on public
bodies and which may enjoy the protection of freedom of speech themselves.
The availability of assassination of foreign leaders as a means of achieving
United States foreign policy objectives is an issue that has proven in recent
years to be a recurring one. However, it does not arise in isolation; instead it
is almost always part of a larger political controversy over United States
foreign policy objectives and whether force of any kind should be used to pursue
them. Certainly this was true with regard to the controversies that surrounded
United States policy, including alleged involvement in assassination plots
toward Cuba, Vietnam, the Congo, and the Dominican Republic in the 1960s, and
toward Chile in the early 1970s. It is also true, though to a lesser degree, of
more recent debates concerning the United States air strike against Libya in
April 1986 and the role of the United States in Panama prior to the December
1989 invasion. In each case there was, or later developed, significant
disagreement over the appropriateness of United States policy toward the nation
involved and over the use of force to induce changes in the nature or activities
of its government.
Inevitably, such disagreements have tended to distract attention from the manner
in which force might be applied; if the chosen objective appears not to be a
legitimate one or if the use of force seems unjustified, the relative merit of
an -attack on a military installation, for example, as seriously or productively
considered. The recent war in the Persian Gulf has again revived the controversy
and provided a new opportunity for debate. This time, however, the issue
appeared more starkly framed than previously. Public doubt as to the legitimacy
of the immediate objective-the ejection of Iraq from Kuwait-was for the most
part absent, and although there was disagreement about the timing and amount of
coercion to be used, force was generally perceived as a legitimate option. The
American public perceived Iraqi President Saddam Hussein, hardly a sympathetic
image, as probably the least ambiguous villain of the second half of the
twentieth century. Unchallenged by any significant political opposition prior to
the war, he appeared as the sole instigator of Iraq's seizure of Kuwait, as well
as the cause of its intransigence in the face of international insistence that
it withdraw.
It is understandable that a reader may be puzzled by the title of this study.
American lawyers are undoubtedly familiar with the notion of "constitutional"
courts established under Article III of the Constitution.1 They also are likely
to recall another class of federal tribunals, created by virtue of the
legislative authority vested in Congress by Article I of the Constitution.'
However, few lawyers and scholars are aware that there exists a third class of
courts created by the Constitution. These are executive courts that, from time
to time in the Republic's history, have been formed to administer justice, in
times of war or civil unrest, over territories occupied by American armed
forces.
There is no question that these tribunals have been considered anomalous, as
aberrations of established constitutional order. Indeed, little intellectual
effort has been expended in examining the constitutional place of presidential
courts. In the midst of war or its aftermath, few were brave enough to criticize
the President's establishment of courts of law. Fewer still were prepared to
argue that his power should be limited by other provisions of the Constitution.
Instead, a pattern of judicial deference begun with the establishment of the
first such court in the Mexican War of 1846 has persisted to this day.
Exceptions to this trend have been noted, and it may even be apparent that a new
constitutional practice of Article II courts has evolved. Nonetheless, the
President's power in this field has gone virtually unchallenged.
This Article carefully examines the creation, operation, and jurisprudence of
executive courts. As a first step, however, it is essential to accurately define
what is meant when one refers to an Article II court. This inquiry places in
sharp focus the traditional constitutional dichotomy between Article III
"constitutional" courts and Article I legislative tribunals. Adding presidential
courts to this matrix does not upset the analysis used heretofore; it merely
places a greater premium on identifying the constitutional source of power for
creating the court in question.
Once this Article clarifies what is and what is not an executive court, it will
introduce the historical examples of this institution. I have identified twelve
tribunals that satisfy the definition propounded here. Although most date from
the Civil War and before, four of them operated in this century, and one of them
rendered a judgment no more than twelve years ago. Undoubtedly others exist that
my research has not revealed. Each of these courts shared one thing in common:
they were established by federal authorities occupying territory as a result of
armed conflict. The constitutional problems raised by belligerent occupation,
including the maintenance of law and order and the establishment of justice,
will be considered since this provided the practical imperative for the exercise
of the President's power to constitute judicial tribunals. How the President
exercised and delegated this power is also significant. More important, however,
is to understand how the power was limited, whether by the President's own
restraint, judicial review, or the passage of time and the termination of
hostilities.