Taxpayers help to fatten Big Law in prosecution that Chinese community chalks up to racial profiling

Rawpixel CC0

The American trend to embrace attorney fee-shifting is a cash cow for the corporate defense bar. A pending case speaks to the problem, as the Government seeks more than $600,000 in fees on behalf of white-shoe law firms from a man whom civil rights advocates say was racially profiled.

Waning of "the American Rule."  The American legal system is unusual in the world for its default rule that every party pays its own way in litigation. This "American rule" contrasts with "the English rule," adopted in most of the world's jurisdictions, by which "loser pays."

But in part in acknowledgement of the abnormally high transaction costs, especially attorney fees, of litigation in the United States, some statutory systems have adopted the English rule. In civil rights, for example, key federal statutes require fee-shifting to victorious plaintiffs. The concern is that the victims of civil rights violations will not otherwise be able to incentivize lawyers to take their cases.

That logic has leached out of civil rights, though, into ever more adjacent areas of legal practice. Most civil claims are filed against corporations, and most civil claims are unsuccessful. So corporations and their lawyers have been keen to think of new ways to be paid for their trouble, if not to deter lawsuits to begin with. 

A key such area is anti-SLAPP, that is, legal measures against "strategic lawsuits against public participation." Anti-SLAPP, about which I have written many times, is wildly popular with lawmakers: now the law in a majority of states, perennially proposed in Congress, and presently being drafted into EU law.

Anti-SLAPP began as a modest and rational means to deter corporations from weaponizing frivolous litigation against protestors, silencing them with legal fees. Thus, many anti-SLAPP laws penalize unsuccessful civil plaintiffs by charging them for the defendant's attorney fees. But the corporate media defense bar fell in love with anti-SLAPP. It's now a potent weapon for corporations to silence persons who dare say they've been defamed, or had their privacy invaded, in mass publication. 

It's important to remember that just because a plaintiff is unsuccessful in civil litigation does not mean that the plaintiff was not wronged. Defamation and privacy law is rife with defendant-friendly mechanisms designed to over-protect media defendants from even meritorious claims, from evidentiary privileges, to limitations on discovery, to daunting burdens such as the New York Times Co. v. Sullivan (U.S. 1964) "actual malice" standard. Anti-SLAPP piles on another prophylactic defense, one that works so fast, a defendant need not even answer the complaint.

I've been consistent in my opposition to anti-SLAPP's poisonous growth, especially its fee-shifting penalty. Frequent litigant Donald Trump, by the way, has been on both sides of anti-SLAPP fees, having been awarded nearly $300,000 in attorney fees against Stormy Daniels in response to her claim of defamation. It sometimes amuses me and sometimes saddens me to see civil rights advocates, journalists, and media law professors align themselves with mega-corporations in publishing, eager to line the pockets of Big Law.

United States v. Yu. The instant case is criminal, not civil. But the case involves a civil restitution statute that allows for a criminal defendant to be charged with the legal fees incurred by a "victim." 

Haoyang Yu, a naturalized U.S. citizen of Chinese descent, was a Boston-area engineer charged with 21 crimes in connection with his work developing chip technology for Analog Devices, Inc. (ADI). The court dismissed one charge and acquitted Yu of another before submitting 19 charges to the jury. The jury acquitted Yu of 18 charges and convicted him of one only: illegal possession of trade secrets. 

More or less, Yu took his work home with him, and his work included a proprietary chip design. The government had accused Yu of much worse: intention to steal ADI tech either to start his own company or to pass research to the Chinese government. Yu was caught up in a government crackdown amid fear of foreign espionage in the American tech industry. The evidence did not bear out the suspicion.

Critics point to Yu's Chinese origin and ancestry to allege that he was a victim of racial profiling. The trial judge in the case even acknowledged, "It's hard to say that Mr. Yu’s race or ethnicity was not a factor here" (Lexington Observer, June 2, 2023). APA (Asian Pacific American) Justice has tracked Yu's case. The Intercept covered the case in 2022. Critics pointed out that allegations such as those in Yu typically are resolved in mere civil litigation over theft of trade secrets. Yu was sentenced to six months' imprisonment and a fine, and then was sued by ADI.

The part of the case pertinent here is the Government's motion in federal district court that Yu be ordered to pay $606,879 to ADI attorneys at high-end firms WilmerHale and Quinn Emanuel. The Government invoked the Mandatory Restitution to Victims Act (MRVA).

The MRVA was enacted in 1996. A U.S. Department of Justice (DOJ) summary of the law doesn't much conjure a corporation as the kind of "victim" the law was meant to help. DOJ imagined "[v]ictims of crimes such as telemarketing, child exploitation, interstate domestic violence and sexual assault." The summary contemplates victims' "lost income and necessary child care, transportation, and other expenses related to participation in the investigation or prosecution of the offense."

In contrast, the fat legal bills in Yu include, according to, e.g., Brian Dowling at Law360 (subscription), $1,865 per hour for a Quinn Emanuel partner to watch the trial from the gallery. Other hourly rates at Quinn range from $320 for a paralegal, $880 for a second-year associate, and $1,095 for a fourth-year associate, to $1,440 for "counsel."

When I was in practice in the mid-1990s, as a first- and second-year associate, my billing rate with Big Law in Baltimore and Washington, D.C., was in the neighborhood of $120 per hour. I made about $25 per hour. Today, in academics, I make about $115 per hour (unrealistically assuming I work only 40 hours per week for nine months). According to public data, my students graduating UMass Law today will make about what I did in 1995, public or private sector. No adjustment for inflation.

Multiplying out the Quinn counsel rate yields $2.88m per year. Even if only 20% is paid out in salary, that's $576,000 per year. Not bad. I bet, though, that the $1,865/hr. attorney, a former Acting U.S. Attorney, takes home better than 20%. I guess the difference between the 1990s and now is that back then, shame was still a thing. 

Meanwhile, the bar is eager to tell law schools that it no longer can afford to mentor and train lawyers on the job, and that we should purge from the curriculum the esoteria of legal theory and public policy in favor of producing "practice ready" billing machines.

Quinn Emanuel has an entertainment and media litigation group that defends defamation and privacy claims for mass-market publishers. If I find myself defamed or otherwise wronged by a Quinn Emanuel media client, I shudder to think what the tab might be if I sue, but can't prove actual malice. Thanks to anti-SLAPP fee-shifting, Quinn Emanuel can be very well compensated even if one of its clients is negligent in decimating a person's reputation.

Next time a purported champion of the First Amendment or Fourth Estate tells you what a good idea anti-SLAPP is, think about the mahogany furniture and extravagant lifestyle of the Big Law Boston lawyer.

In an MRVA case, Big Law even gets the benefit of taxpayer-funded litigation to get paid, as the Government carries on the demand on behalf of the "victim."

The parties in Yu are now wrangling over the fee demand. The court asked the Government to break down the ask in a spreadsheet. The Government filed a data disc in December.

The case is United States v. Yu (D. Mass. indictment filed 2019), Judge William G. Young presiding.

Big Ag plays Goliath in film about GMO-seed litigation

A worthwhile movie you might have missed during the pandemic is Percy vs. Goliath (2020), starring Christopher Walken and Zach Braff, involving Canadian lawsuits over GMO seed contamination.

I caught up with the film last weekend. As the title suggests, it's a David vs. Goliath story about a workaday Canadian farmer, Percy Schmeiser (Walken) sued by agriculture giant Monsanto when Roundup-resistant canola strains turned up in the farmer's fields in Saskatchewan. Schmeiser countersued for libel and trespass.

The real-life case is Monsanto Canada Inc. v. Schmeiser (Can. 2004). The real-life Percy died in 2020 soon after the film was completed. There have been several documentaries about the case, besides this fictionalization.

Spoilers ahead.

Something I liked and had not expected in the film is the depiction of Percy's visit to India. The filmmakers do a good job conveying the fact that GMO seed drift and patent exclusivity is a worldwide problem. The film doesn't directly tackle the unknown risks of GMOs, both to human health and in global monoculture, but they're implicit in Percy's reasons for resisting GMO tech.

The film also doesn't tackle the separate problem of Roundup toxicity, which fueled mass tort litigation in the United States only later, in the 2010s. But the repeated mention of the product can't help but bring the issue to mind with the benefit of hindsight. (Certainly it brings the issue to my mind, remembering my summer work as a landscape laborer, Roundup streaming down my arms. Though that's nothing compared with soaked workers I saw on Central American fruit plantations in the 1990s.) Bayer acquired Monsanto in 2018 and agreed to settlements over Roundup in 2020. 

Percy mostly won in the end, in that Monsanto could not prove deliberate appropriation. But the court did find patent infringement and required Percy to surrender his seeds to Monsanto.

In the United States, the Supreme Court in 2013 ruled in favor of Monsanto in a seed case with different facts, Bowman v. Monsanto Co. An Indiana farmer had replanted seeds that Monsanto clients had sold to a grain elevator in violation of Monsanto's license, which prohibited downstream reuse. The later buyer infringed the patent, the court concluded.

In a U.S. case closer to Schmeiser but with a different procedural history, a broad farming coalition sought to nullify Monsanto patents to head off infringement claims they saw as an inevitable result of genetic drift. The court rejected the suit in Organic Seed Growers and Trade Association v. Monsanto Co. (Fed. Cir. 2013) for lack of controversy. Monsanto thereafter announced that it would not pursue infringement claims against non-client farmers for Roundup-resistant strains as long as they didn't use Roundup.

Informative for comparative law class, the film, Percy, includes a short courtroom scene toward the end in which Percy's solo lawyer Jackson Weaver (Braff) argues against the Big Ag sharks in the Canadian high court. Christina Ricci turned in an enjoyable supporting performance as environmental activist lawyer Rebecca Salcau. I recall that Ricci delightfully played scrappy attorney Liza Bump in the final season of Ally McBeal.

Weaver's and Salcau's resource limitations in facing off against Big Ag brought to mind A Civil Action (1998), and Percy overall is reminiscent of Dark Waters (2019) (on this blog). Percy's quiet tribulation is not the stuff of blockbusters, but it's surely worth the watch for anyone interested in the broad range of issues it raises in environmentalism, agriculture, food supply, civil litigation, product liability, intellectual property, and corporatocracy.

Though it was not a policy point in the film, I found compelling attorney Weaver's warning to Percy that losing the case would mean not only compensation on the merits to Monsanto, but liability to Monsanto for hundreds of thousands of dollars in fees for the very Big Ag attorneys who rendered the litigation playing field so unlevel as might, circularly, precipitate the loss.

Such is the rule for attorney fees in Canada and most of the world, and, alarmingly to me, more and more, by statute, in the United States. Civil rights advocates and the plaintiff bar herald attorney-fee shifting as vital to facilitate access to the courts for injured persons. But when the burn works both ways and a corporate Goliath prevails, the result should give us pause before wholeheartedly chucking out the pay-your-own-way rule of American common law. Writ small, this precisely is one of my objections to anti-SLAPP laws that place genuinely victimized individual plaintiffs at risk of having to pay outrageous fee awards to compensate corporate mass media defense attorneys.

I watched Percy vs. Goliath on the Roku Channel with ads. The film is available for less than $4 on many streaming platforms.

Court: Even upon liability for mere negligence, insurer may refuse to cover statutory attorney-fee award

Gerd Altmann licensed by Pixabay

An insurer is not obliged to reimburse an insured for attorney fees awarded in a quasi-tort action under Massachusetts statute, the commonwealth high court held today.

The insured was a cleaning business operating under the "Servpro" banner. In the dispute underlying the instant case, the insured cleaned up a sewage spill and was held liable to a client who suffered respiratory injury from exposure to disinfectant chemicals.

The personal-injury complainant sued under the unusually broad unfair commercial practices statute, Massachusetts chapter 93A. Chapter 93A affords prevailing parties attorney fees, as well as double or treble damages for complainants able to prove "willful or knowing" violation.

Those powerful incentives tend to cause plaintiffs to abandon common law tort claims when the 93A claim is viable. So here, the plaintiff declined to prosecute her common law negligence claim and was awarded attorney fees on a prevailing 93A theory, an implied warranty of merchantability.

Subsequently, Vermont Mutual Insurance Co. declined to pay the full sum of the award, asserting that the policy did not cover the attorney-fee award.

The Supreme Judicial Court agreed, finding the plain meaning of the insurance contract controlling. The policy covered liability for "bodily injury" and "costs," the court acknowledged. But attorney fees are not "costs 'taxed' against the insured in the suit," the court held; rather, "costs" refers to "the narrower, technical meaning of court-related or nominal costs recoverable as a matter of course to prevailing parties."

The outcome is potentially devastating to small businesses that believe themselves to be insured against negligence liability. An attorney-fee award is enough to put a small business into bankruptcy, yet personal-injury liability insurance typically excludes coverage for fees. 

That exclusion arises, I posit, upon the logic that fees typically are awarded in the states, if at all under "the American rule," only in cases of intentional or reckless wrongdoing, for which insurers also exclude liability. Chapter 93A makes fees much more readily accessible to prevailing plaintiffs and thereby burdens business with an unanticipated transaction cost, while affording multi-state insurers with a windfall.

Notwithstanding my principled objection to deviations from the American rule as an incoherent remedy to our problem of runaway transaction costs, I see no meaningful distinction between a personal injury award and an accompanying fee award when both are predicated on conduct indistinguishable from common law negligence. Vermont Mutual was let off the hook on a technicality, to my mind, and insureds should be entitled to the coverage they reasonably believe they bargained for. 

At minimum, going forward, the commonwealth insurance regulator should compel clear articulation of the risk to insureds of such a coverage limitation specially under chapter 93A. I won't hold my breath.

The case is Vermont Mutual Insurance Co. v. Poirier (Mass. July 6, 2022). Justice Scott L. Kafker wrote the unanimous opinion.

Planet Money tackles litigation financing, champerty

One of my long-term favorite podcasts, Planet Money, last week tackled litigation financing.  We talk a lot in Torts in law school about America's runaway transaction costs and how they affect, or impede, civil justice.  Litigation financing can seem like manna from heaven when one thinks of tragedy-of-the-commons problems such as climate change.  But then there are the problems of corporatocracy, secrecy, and the distastefulness of commodification. Planet Money traces our distaste to champerty in British common law.  Here's the introduction:

Litigation financing allows third-party funders like Burford Capital to invest in other people's lawsuits, but it's long been considered unethical, and is illegal in many places.  But justice can often hinge more on how much money each side has than on what's actually right or wrong. So Burford argues that allowing investments in lawsuits will give more people access to better justice. And it's been a good business for them. But others worry it might warp the justice system.

Listen to "Capitalism in the Courtoom," episode 942, at NPR, here, or wherever you get your podcasts.