In two prior posts (here and here), I have been discussing the ideas in my new paper, “Classical Liberal Administrative Law in a Progressive World.” This post continues the series by discussing how agency adjudication should be changed.
Under current arrangements, agencies often adjudicate cases that really should be adjudicated in Article III courts. Most of the time, these adjudications are called formal adjudications since they are accompanied by a formal hearing that provides significant procedural protections. The initial decision is made by an administrative law judge (ALJ) but, if the agency does not agree with the ALJ’s decision, the agency can appeal that decision to itself and reverse the ALJ. Thus, agency adjudications are ultimately controlled by the agency.
Editor’s note: This is a modified version of Michael Greve’s comments he delivered on a panel called “Public Interest Litigation in the Modern Era” at the Federalist Society’s 2017 Annual Lawyers Convention in Washington, D.C.
I used to be in the public interest litigation business, back in the premodern era. My comments here briefly summarize an outsider’s observations on what I think has changed in public interest law and what its role should be in the future of conservative-libertarian politics.
Our Constitution makes Congress the first branch of government, but the Capitol is today regarded almost as a house of ill-repute, both for the character of its members (not necessarily ours, but theirs) and its general contribution (or lack thereof) to the national well-being. As a legislature, its primary means of asserting itself must be to pass legislation, but it has become infamously inept in that work in this age of severe polarization and powerful interest groups happy to block changes to a status quo they find lucrative. Given the apparent permanency of these underlying factors, many observers now see the waning of Congress’s importance as both inevitable and unequivocally desirable.
I have very fond memories of the late Chuck Berry, deceased this past weekend at the age of 90. His music changed my life, from my ill-spent youth to the AdLaw lessons I seek to convey in my dotage.
As the Senate prepares to question Judge Neil Gorsuch for possible appointment to the Supreme Court, my former colleague Eric Posner asks: “Is Gorsuch a Hamburgerian?” Posner thereby attempts to set up Gorsuch by associating him with . . . not really me, nor my scholarship, but a boogeyman of Posner’s imagination.
The version of my scholarship Posner presents to the world is almost unrecognizable: “Hamburger is anti-elite”; “Hamburger is anti-foreigner”; “Hamburger is anti-executive.” These views bear no resemblance to my scholarship or my personal opinions, and it therefore is necessary to state my views as they really are.
We usually assume that legislators write laws to be understood. But cases exist in which legislators write less clearly rather than more clearly. Well known and often discussed are the whys and wherefores of legislative delegation to executive agencies. Without intending a comprehensive list, here are a couple of other reasons why legislators write more ambiguously rather than less.
As the confirmation battle over 10th Circuit Judge Neil Gorsuch—Donald Trump’s nominee to fill the late Antonin Scalia’s Supreme Court seat—takes shape on cable news shows and across newspaper opinion pages, phrases like “judicial restraint” and “judicial activism” dominate much of the discussion.
While anyone you ask will agree that restraint is good and activism bad, and that judges should be careful not to usurp lawmaking authority from the people’s duly elected representatives, it’s often difficult to figure out exactly what people mean when they give their opinion on this subject. All too often, calls for judicial restraint or deference are not about dispassionately applying the law and leaving the policy decisions to Congress; they are calls for blind rubber-stamping of governmental action.