Thursday, August 16, 2007

What would make me wrong?

Commenter William asks (1, 2), in response to my remarks on exclusive originalism, the tough-but-fair question of whether anything could convince me that I'm wrong. More specifically, he wants to know whether:

IF it were the case that most people have always thought that the Constitution was a "law" in the sense of the sort of thing that lawyers ought to be charged with interpreting, and if it ALSO were the case that lawyers have always been mostly originalists, would that constitute a sufficient argument for originalism?

So let me try to clarify what sort of practice-based arguments I believe are relevant to the nature and application of constitutional meaning, and why. As with everything on this blog, this is all very sketchy and tentative.

There are typically two separate questions involved in these debates: A, the nature of constitutional rules, and B, the best method[s] for discovering, understanding, interpreting, and applying them. One move that is made by many otherwise quite dissimilar theorists is to claim that the answer to A strongly constrains the answer to B. Dworkin (1986) thinks the nature of law as an "interpretive concept" that can justify the use of coercion within a political community gives you (or at least Hercules) a method for negotiating the back-and-forth between facts of political history and facts about morality that will lead you the truth about propositions of (constitutional) law. Kesavan and Paulsen (2003) think the nature of the constitution as an authoritative text proclaiming itself supreme law entails a particular sort of originalist textualism with specific roles for different kinds of contemporary evidence to play. Etc.

I think what unites pluralists--resulting, I suspect, in a serious rhetorical disadvantage--is that they (we, I suppose) don't think solving A gets you very far with B. On the contrary, understanding A explains why you shouldn't hope to find any sort of one-size-fits-all answer to B. (And some pluralists don't even seem to see A as a real question at all.) I look at the United States Constitution and I see a particular instantiation of the constitutionalist project of empowering and limiting government through public rules. So a rough answer to A is that constitutional rules are simply those accepted as regulating good inferences about constitutional validity. Constitutional meaning is an emergent and possibly heterogenous property of successful constitutional argument over the document.

Within the American version of this project, the constitutional text plays a peculiar role: it's a supreme written text within a common-law system, and a blueprint for governmental structure that is silent with respect to a great deal of what the state actually does and how (compare). If we want to know how this all works, we have to look and see. But already this very deflationary conceptualization suggests that given reasonably uncontroversial assumptions about American political development, how institutions and social meanings change, and the political use of symbols, one ought not expect too much uniformity.

But what about William's hypothetical? What would it mean if most people thought that the Constitutional was "law" in a leave-it-to-lawyers sort of way, and if lawyers were always originalists? A lot turns on what is meant by that last conditional. Suppose we take it to imply universal agreement to the claim that "the meaning of a constitutional/statutory provision is fixed at its enactment" (call this claim F). Some might be expectations originalists, some might put more weight on precedent than others, some would believe some clauses to reference moral truths, but none would deny that core tenet. In such a world, I'd probably have to sign onto some variant of originalism, yes.

But possibly not. It all depends on how F is deployed in legal reasoning, and what happens when it seems to conflict with other principles of constitutional law. How are lawyers trained to deal with F--do they spend a lot of time studying and practicing originalist theories of statutory and constitutional interpretation, compared to the time they spend on, e.g., common-law reasoning? If it turns out that F is only rarely brought into play (when precedents are thin on the ground, say), and judges routinely allow F-based arguments to be outweighed by other sorts of reasoning without being countered directly, then I think a theorist would have reason to deny the truth of exclusive originalism concerning constitutional meaning.

In other words, it would not be absurd in that hypothetical to assert that F, despite being both universally affirmed and theoretically "deeper" than, e.g., claims about the validity of secret drafting histories, was actually not particularly central to the practice of constitutional law. Now, it would be foolish and possibly malpractice for me to assert not-F while arguing a case in court; I ought merely use arguments that avoid issues of original meaning entirely. But the question here is about the theorist or judge, not advocate. (We care about citizens and politicians, too, but the hypo is explicitly about an artificially legalist constitutional culture.)

Perhaps the originalist impulse flows from an insistence on formal coherence among principles of constitutional meaning and an attraction to "deeper" (e.g., F) over "shallower" ones (e.g., "drafting history may never be consulted"). But I don't think this is always the right way to go with constitutions; sometimes the "deeper" principles should give way. This by no means implies that "anything goes"; constitutional rules exist and one can misinterpret them, both by making bad arguments from within particular modalities and by failing to give proper weight to the proper forms of argument. As for what that balance is, alas, my theoretical commitments force me to admit that I simply don't have enough exposure to the actual practice to have any confidence in my views. It's possible that the correct balancing really is to privilege original meaning over all else, but given the considerations above, I would need to see much more than a tradition of lip service to warrant concession.

[Still trying to sort out the Leiter-on-disagreement stuff.]
[Yes, a lot of this is influenced by Dennis Patterson's Law and Truth.]

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