Airlines abuse customers, who have nowhere to turn and face byzantine barriers in small claims courts

A Savory Tort Investigation

I sued Air France yesterday.

Consumer Protection and Airline Impunity

The instant matter is simple. I bought a roundtrip ticket from Boston to Paris specifically as offered by Air France because seat selection upon check-in came with the ticket. (I have a dodgy knee and an over-the-hill bladder, so seat selection on long hauls matters to me. You asked.)

Air France consistently promised seat selection.

Air France turned the flight over to Delta for operation, and Delta refused to honor seat selection upon check-in. Delta rather demanded $89 per seat assignment. Delta would not even give me a random seat upon check-in; I was told I would have to wait for a seat assignment at the gate, after everyone with higher priority was given an assignment.

I contacted Air France multiple times and was told that Delta's terms superseded Air France's, to call Delta. I contacted Delta multiple times, and I was told that my problem was with Air France.

I'm not the only person to experience precisely this problem. Redditors and online reviewers have reported the same frustration and the same shirking of responsibility by the airlines over seat selection and other purchase terms. 

That matters here, because I don't file lawsuits just for me. I believe I have a professional responsibility to use my skills as a litigator now and then if it will make the world better for many people.

I made complaints to governmental authorities, the attorney general's office in my home state of Rhode Island, and the U.S. Department of Transportation. Of course, those complaints went into the circular file.

The R.I. AG's office, while having been helpful in other matters, has in the past sent me to the feds on airline issues, notwithstanding their concurrent jurisdiction over ticket sales. And the U.S. DoT, which used to issue at least a polite email of acknowledgment, said nothing, probably distracted by the premiere of Great American Road Trip.

Delta sees things differently, blames Air France.

Delta, it must be said, sent me an email offering something, I think it was a $55 credit, on a future flight. I did not accept.

I also sent a comprehensive demand letter to Air France in June. They replied in July with yet another email, this one at least sufficiently detailed to suggest, for the first time, that they did understand the problem. They were unwilling to pay anything, of course. And more importantly, they did not say the problem was redressed, and they again blamed Delta.

This isn't about money for me, if that's still not clear. What I want is for the airlines to stop using operator agreements as an excuse to reneg on plain promises to consumers. Had Air France simply taken responsibility for the wrong and promised it's no longer happening, I would have dropped the matter.

But Air France couldn't help itself. Repeatedly, responses blamed Delta. They did not address the salient observation of the demand letter: that I have no contract with Delta, even if it were willing to accept responsibility rather than send blame back around.

So as I promised in the demand letter—one must keep one's promises—I sued for breach of contract and deceptive business practices. Like some other states, Rhode Island has a reasonably friendly statute for such consumer claims, and it entitles me to the greater of $500 statutory damages or compensatory damages, plus costs, with the possibility of a damage multiplier, up to three times, in the court's discretion. 

I am not going here to address the problem of arbitration terms among airline terms of service, slyly diverting consumers from the courts and stripping them unwittingly of their Seventh Amendment rights. I must mention that such boilerplate terms usually put any court claim of the kind I discuss here out of reach for the consumer. Worse, arbitration systems are rigged for corporate respondents, evidenced at minimum by the simple fact that they prevail in arbitration far more than reason or chance says they should. The proceedings moreover remain secret, undermining civil justice for everyone else. I have good reason to believe that I am not bound in this matter by compelled arbitration terms, but any reader or prospective plaintiff should be warned.

My goal here remains simply reform of industry practice for consumer protection. I've written before about the abuse American consumers suffer at the hands of airlines, especially in comparison with our European counterparts, and our present era of deregulation in the United States is stripping away what little enforcement there was. 

Yesterday, for example, I was shopping for an airfare online and saw a United fare with no carry-on, that is, bringing a carry-on is not allowed, not an option. That almost compels a person to check a bag, yet the fare did not include a checked bag; you could buy that later: what regulatory authorities call "drip pricing," or what President Biden called "junk fees," and which makes it exceedingly difficult to compare fares. 

These deceptive sales strategies utterly undermine absolutist economic libertarianism, demonstrating, in my view, why responsible libertarianism must support reasonable regulation to ensure a level marketplace. The Biden Federal Trade Commission regulated against junk fees. Trump has not rescinded the regulations, to my knowledge. But non-enforcement is functionally the same. A meaningful regulation would afford a private right of action with damages that would command airlines' attention.

It seems, in the great American tradition of rugged individualism, that enforcement is left to the consumer, who is scarcely given two sticks to rub together to get anything done. And at this point, it seems that a financial hit, even a small one, along with the hassle of answering in court, is required to compel Air France to own up to the simple responsibility of delivering what it sells.

If only it were that easy. 

Small Claims Court and Barriers to Consumer Protection

I am a lawyer (D.C. license) and a litigator, and I have filed many lawsuits. But what I just experienced trying to file a small claim was harrowing and would be prohibitive to a person not equipped as I am. What's worse is that touted digital tools that are supposed to make access to the courts easier are not helping at all.

Here is a series of problems I encountered in filing my small claim. Never mind, by the way, that my claim should be a class action, which is prohibitively difficult even for me to put together, if even possible under the law, which in the United States has grown hostile to consumer class actions, even while Europe, again, moves in the opposite direction.

My small claim was rejected by Massachusetts courts. And then they changed their minds.

I tried first to file a small claim in Massachusetts. It was rejected.

My personal-jurisdiction claim over Air France in Rhode Island is sufficient, but thin, based on my online ticket purchase. There's always a risk of getting a judge who is hostile to plaintiffs and not familiar with the law of internet jurisdiction. Small claims are sometimes not appealable, so if you get a bad ruling, you might be stuck, no matter the law.

Personal jurisdiction over Air France (technically, "Societe Air France") is easier by conventional measures in Massachusetts, because Air France operates out of Boston Logan airport and has assets and employees there. If I prevail in Rhode Island, Air France can make me register my judgment in Massachusetts to collect. Even though I can demand costs, registration of foreign-state judgments is a hassle, beyond the ken of non-lawyer plaintiffs, and requires an outlay of hundreds of dollars just for filing, even before executing enforcement.

Small-claims filing instructions at Mass.gov purport
to afford venue where a plaintiff works.

Happily, the Massachusetts courts website told me that small claims courts in the commonwealth will exercise venue based on a plaintiff's place of work—or home, or business. I work in Massachusetts. Even better, the courts accept e-filings.

I dutifully prepared all of my paperwork and stepped through the online e-filing procedure. It's not a bad user interface, for the most part. 

Alas, the next business morning, my claim was rejected. I had listed my home address in Rhode Island. The form asked for the address where I wished to receive correspondence, not the address I would use to assert venue. There was no field for another address. 

I called the small-claims office of the clerk in New Bedford, Massachusetts, District Court. Let me be clear here that, first, they promptly answered the phone, which is a lot more than I can say for Air France or Delta; and second, they were very, very kind. My whinging here is no denigration of the people involved, who I believe are trying do their honest best in a byzantine bureaucracy.

They told me, though, that the website is wrong, that Massachusetts courts will recognize venue only for a resident plaintiff, or a plaintiff who owns a business in the commonwealth. At least, they said, I would not be charged the filing fee ($62), and I should get in touch if my card is charged erroneously. 

By email—they have an email address, also more than I can say for Air France or Delta—I sent the office the web page I had relied on—not to hassle them, but seriously, to make sure it's corrected, so that other people, especially non-lawyers, don't waste the time and energy that I did. I also reported the error to the state IT office via the page feedback form.

I then went about several hours' work to file my claim in Rhode Island instead. I run a serious risk that Air France simply will ignore the summons; it has no assets, no liability exposure, in Rhode Island. I can obtain a default judgment. But then, again, I will have to go to the extraordinary effort and expense of registering my judgment in Massachusetts and pursuing an enforcement action there.

After I returned home from the courthouse in Providence, Rhode Island, I received an email from the clerk's office in New Bedford: "Please e-file your complaint and we will accept it."

Sigh.

I'm not going to file right now, I responded, because I don't want to pay for two lawsuits. But if Air France ducks out on the Rhode Island summons, it will be cheaper for me to sue again in Massachusetts, rather than register the foreign-state judgment in non-small-claims district court.

Small claims clerks do not understand corporate service of process. Or they do, and I don't?

A second problem I encountered relates to service of process. Neither Massachusetts nor Rhode Island small claims court would accept a service-of-process address for the defendant. Both insisted that service go to the defendant business address. That policy puts plaintiffs, especially non-lawyers, at risk of dismissal for defective service.

Every business, when it registers with a state government for licensing, in almost any state—I've seen some exceptions, and that's a whole other story in undermining consumer protection, but thankfully, Massachusetts keeps pretty good records—provides a mailing address, where it wants to receive business correspondence, and a service address, specifically for legal service of process. Big businesses, such as Air France, contract with companies, "registered agents," specially in the business of receiving legal notices.

Air France lists a New York corporate address and a Boston registered
agent in its filing with the Massachusetts Secretary of Commerce. 

In the case of Air France, its filing with the Massachusetts Secretary of Commerce lists, not unusually, an address in New York City for the corporate office, and an address in Boston for service to the registered agent, Corporation Service Company. Typically, a business relies on its registered agent only for the initial pleading, and in responsive pleading lists an address for corporate counsel to receive correspondence subsequently.

The Massachusetts e-filing system, which is not bad overall, as I said, has only one field for a defendant's address. Instructions say to provide the address where the defendant receives its correspondence. That's the defendant's corporate address. There is no field for a registered agent at a different address. 

But failing to serve a corporation by way of its registered agent means plaintiff's complaint can be dismissed for defective service. And it seems that someone knows this, because the instructions to users of the e-filing system admonish would-be plaintiffs to look up the defendant's address(es) in the database of the Massachusetts Secretary of Commerce. There's even a link to do so.

If a filing is accepted in the Massachusetts e-filing system, service follows by certified mail. There's a fee assessed for that mailing, simultaneously with the filing fee. There is no opportunity for a plaintiff to add a service address later.

So I emailed the clerk to ask about this problem. Because my filing ultimately was rejected, it never became an issue. But I asked also when we spoke on the phone. 

The clerk to whom I spoke did not seem to be familiar with corporate service of process or registered agents. She said that the small claims office always serves the business address, and that that service would effect legal process. I have my doubts, but at least I shelved that assurance for what I can tell a judge when I'm fighting against defendant's motion to dismiss.

In Rhode Island, there is no e-filing. There is a form for small claims, and it, like in Massachusetts, has only one field for the defendant's address. I entered both addresses there. When filing a civil complaint, a lawyer usually lists a "Serve on:" or "Registered agent:" address below the defendant's corporate address.

But when I went to file, the Rhode Island clerk would have none of it. She, too, seemed baffled by the idea that there would be more than one address for the defendant. She would not accept the filing that way and demanded that I cross out and initial the service address. So I did, muttering, "That's not the law," under my breath. And I filed ($75.75).

I still went by UPS to make a copy of all of the pleading papers ($6.10). I stopped home to scan a copy for myself. And when I went to the post office to send the papers via certified mail, return receipt, I sent sets to both addresses ($11.89 each).

Service of process in Rhode Island is a racket.

In ye olden times, and still when a plaintiff fears a defendant might evade accountability, service of process was effected in person, by a sheriff, constable, or professional process server knocking on the defendant's door. Private investigators sometimes picked up contract service work between meatier jobs. Personal service is so clumsy that it's sometimes the stuff of comedy in movies, such as Pineapple Express (2008).

Now we live in an enlightened age. Well, most of us. Not Rhode Island, the smallest state. Back there in a moment.

In this era of enlightenment, we understand that service of process can be effected more efficiently by paper and ink, through our perfectly well functioning postal system. This, in fact, besides state compulsion, is why companies contract with registered agents: so that we can all agree that that is the address where you send the pleading.

I hear you asking: "OK Boomer, why not use the internet?" Well, first, it's Gen-X to you. We do exist. And please don't be condescending. This is still a developing country. There's nothing wrong with triplicate forms. Press hard.

I have filed small claims in Rhode Island before, and I effected service with the usual certified mail and return receipt, even if I had to overpay the clerk's office to send it for me.

On the backs of complainants,
R.I. sheriffs get a piece of the action.
photo RJ Peltz-Steele CC0 1.0

No more, apparently. Rhode Island now requires that a small claims pro se plaintiff march from the courthouse in Providence, R.I., to the state Sheriffs Headquarters in Cranston, R.I., eight miles away, closes at 4 p.m.!, and there find a sheriff or constable to effect service ($70).

Oh, and stop by a bank or post office, because Sheriffs Headquarters does not take credit cards, debit cards, checks, or cash. You'll need a money order made out to "R.I. STATE SHERIFFS" ($2.65).

Oh, and stop by a copy shop, because you'll need two copies of all the paperwork you brought to the clerk's office, where you were instructed to bring only one, plus two copies of the summons the clerk just gave you ($6).

Alas, there's another wrinkle. R.I. Sheriffs will not serve an out-of-state defendant. How to do that? A flyer at the clerk's office in Providence instructs the pro se plaintiff to "contact that State for service." 

Anyone have the telephone number for Massachusetts? 

I was incredulous. Yet the clerk in Providence was unfazed. I asked whether I could effect service on an R.I. defendant, hypothetically, by sending certified mail, return receipt, myself. No, she said. State law requires that the Sheriffs Office or a constable effect service. I'm not so sure about that, but I'm not a Rhode Island lawyer.

How do I effect service in Massachusetts, then?, I asked. She said she could not tell me, for fear of giving me bad advice about something beyond her purview. Fair enough. But where could I find out?

I figured if certified mail, return receipt, was good enough for the New Bedford District Court, it was good enough for me. And I couldn't see a judge turning me away when I have a return receipt in hand. Still, here we are with another problem that could end the non-lawyer's case before it gets going, and flush the sunken $75 R.I. filing fee down the drain.

When the clerk returned with my summons, after having consulted with a colleague, she said, "You can send this certified mail." That must have been hard to admit. 

Yet it does prompt the question, why is certified mail fine for an out-of-state defendant, but no good for a Rhode Island defendant?

Maybe the sheriffs' slush fund is running short.

Rhode Island requires plaintiffs to prepare paperwork to a point of absurdity.

I did my homework before I went to the courthouse in Providence. I still screwed up. 

I spilled a bucket of printer ink—one of the most expensive liquids on earth, and a whole other story in regulators' failure to protect consumers against unfair and deceptive corporate practices—to prepare my filings for the Rhode Island court. I followed instructions to the letter. I even printed and had notarized an extra copy of the complaint. Not required, but I fancy myself a boy scout!

Let's pause there to note that Rhode Island requires a small claims complaint to be notarized. I used my AAA membership to avail of the service there. Still, I had to stop by that office on my way to the courthouse. That's actually the service I use most frequently at AAA—nothing to do with my car or travel. Someone stopping in at a UPS store for a one-off notarization would have to pay $10 or $15 per stamp.

Notarization of such a filing as routine and small-time as a small claims pleading is not normal in the states; Massachusetts does not require it. And it's profoundly anachronistic, having little purpose: yet another barrier to ordinary people's access to the courts.

But I haven't yet told you the best part.

To file a small claim in Rhode Island, the plaintiff must present, in hardcopy, the court form for the defendant's answer to the complaint, as well as court instructions for how to complete the answer form.

R.I. court instructions in Cambodian stand ready
to aid the New York corporate lawyer who needs them.

Wait, there's more!

The plaintiff also must present four pages of instructions on how the defendant can seek interpreter services, the pages respectively in English, Spanish, Portuguese, and Cambodian.

Cambodian.

The clerk looked at me skeptically and asked, "Do you have the papers for the answer?"

Clearly she anticipated having to send me packing, another schmuck who failed to follow directions. I could not tell from her anticipation whether she relished the seemingly inevitable rebuff, or was just wary of how another frustrated, infuriated claimant might react. 

"Yes," I said, proudly, presenting the papers. A boy scout craves the approval of authority figures.

But I couldn't help myself. 

"I even have instructions in Cambodian for my corporate defendant's team of New York lawyers," I said.

Unfazed.

Alas, I did make a mistake. I had printed the answer form without the instructions. The horror!

In my defense, the user instructions did not specify which version of the answer form to prepare, with or without instructions. I assumed, mistakenly, that it was not my job to tell New York attorneys how to file a responsive pleading, against me, for their transnational corporate client. 

To the clerk's credit, and I do appreciate this, because my parking meter ($1.60) was ticking, she provided me, gratis, a hardcopy of the correct form with instructions to include with my growing portfolio—now 19 pages for a two-sentence complaint.

I understand the need for both the instructions and the interpreter forms when the defendant is an individual. Access to justice is a two-way street, and, say, a landlord who is a frequent flier in the courts should not be able to exploit a tenant's ignorance of legal process and rights. 

But on the face of my complaint, I am suing a transnational corporation with a U.S. office on Broadway in Manhattan. Am I really Goliath in this scenario?

Is there no rule of reason? Or do we just assume that the little people ought not be bothering big corporations anyway?

It is virtually inconceivable that a non-lawyer could navigate the small claims process, at least not without rendering the case vulnerable to dismissal for a procedural fault.

I'm not sure anyone outside the U.S. Chamber of Commerce thinks we do not have an access to justice problem in the United States. And in the marketplace, consumer frustration has hit a record pitch.

Let's review. My claim is straightforward. I contracted for a service and did not get that service. I am suing for the value of the service that I did not get. That's a loss equivalent to $178, or $500, as the legislature decided is a fair statutory minimum.

Besides my hours and hours of time, my barrels of printer ink, and my fuel, parking, and heartache, I have thus far spent $105.63 on my $178 loss. And that's just to get in the courthouse door. If Air France does not answer my complaint, I'm looking at hundreds more dollars for enforcement, even with a default judgment in hand.

And I am only one consumer, of, no doubt, thousands, who bothered to follow up on a broken promise. I'm just one consumer savvy enough to know how to sue, at least in theory. 

No wonder, then, corporate America simply counts on the fact that it can rip off consumers for hundreds of dollars at a time with impunity. Even if one consumer fights back and prevails, the profits are enough to roll around and spill champagne in.

And our legal system facilitates this abuse. Small claims court was devised to redress this very problem, yet the hurdles to clear the entrance gate are so high, the court might as well shut its doors. Let's not forget that I was twice given incorrect guidance by clerks, notwithstanding good intentions, so far in my journey. I'm already supposed to know what I'm doing, and all this is before even getting to the merits of the case.

There are a lot of ways we could reform consumer protection and access to justice. For starters, I should not be bringing this claim. State AGs or federal agencies, at minimum, should be making sure that consumers get what they pay for, or at least that corporations cannot willfully continue deceptive practices after they're made aware of them.

Even writ small, there are countless ways that the ills of local courts, as I've outlined here and no doubt many more, could be fixed to make access to justice just a little bit easier. Our public officials only have to want the courts we pay for to work for people as well as they work for corporations. 

Conservancy loss illustrates ongoing impotence of environmental protection right in state constitution

Franklin Park postcard, c. 1930-1945
Boston Public Library, public domain

In the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court Wednesday, environmentalists lost their bid to block renovation of a stadium in a Boston park.

I wrote about the case in the lower court at some length in 2024. The Emerald Necklace Conservancy and local residents wanted to stop the road construction and structural overhaul to bring White Stadium in Boston's Franklin Park into service as stadium host of Boston Legacy, a football club in the U.S. National Women's Soccer League. The "Emerald Necklace" is an urban greenway that landscape architect Franklin Law Olmsted planned to encircle Boston and was widely disrupted in the city's 20th century growth.

The court affirmed on various grounds, and two are of interest to me relative to environmental litigation. First, the court held that The Emerald Necklace Conservancy lacked standing to challenge the project as a violation of terms of the trust that supports the existing stadium and park.

This result is not unusual; environmentalist standing has been a challenging plaintiff problem since I studied environmental law decades ago. (Hat tip to Profs. James Boyle & Jonathan Weiner.) But the outcome shows that that's still so. The doctrine of locus standi in the European Union and elsewhere looks like standing in U.S. constitutional law, but is not as prohibitive, and in many jurisdictions—such as Malawi, where I traveled this summer—legislators have enacted workarounds to allow conservation organizations to respond to industry abuses that endanger human welfare.

Second, the court held that the Massachusetts legislature removed the stadium property from park status no later than 1950, thus depriving the plaintiffs of a claim to which they might otherwise be entitled under Amendments Article 97 (Article XCVII) of the Massachusetts Constitution, a conservation measure that voters approved overwhelmingly in 1972.

Article 97 interests me because of its potential breadth. Its first paragraph articulates a powerful affirmative right: "The people shall have the right to clean air and water, freedom from excessive and unnecessary noise, and the natural, scenic, historic, and esthetic qualities of their environment; and the protection of the people in their right to the conservation, development and utilization of the agricultural, mineral, forest, water, air and other natural resources is hereby declared to be a public purpose."

This language dates to the same year, 1972, as the Clean Water Act in federal law, and the likes of article IX of the Montana Constitution, which sustained the youth climate claim in Held v. Montana in 2024. The language weirdly resonates with later constitutional expressions of environmental rights elsewhere in the world, such as South Africa's (article 24). 

Thus far, however, the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court has interpreted Article 97 narrowly, only in connection with designated park land and only as implemented by the legislature—so hardly a constitutional right at all.

The case is Emerald Necklace Conservancy, Inc. v. City of Boston (Mass. Aug. 19, 2026). Justice Gabrielle R. Wolohojian wrote the unanimous opinion of the court.

High court sticks with conventional duty doctrine in relieving contractor of responsibility for roofer's fall

Jiminy Peak Mountain Resort
Jason Morrison via Flickr (edited) CC BY-NC 2.0

A general contractor without boots on the job site owes no duty of care to a subcontractor's employee on site, the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court (SJC) held Monday.

The plaintiff was a roofing worker on the job at Jiminy Peak Mountain Resort in Hancock, Massachusetts. He sustained serious injuries falling from a roof when between safety-harness clips. 

Worker compensation law precluded the plaintiff from suing his own employer, a subcontractor. But as often happens in such cases, to supplement insufficient compensation from the worker compensation system, the plaintiff looks around for third parties who also might bear responsibility. Here, the plaintiff sued the general contractor for negligence and negligent hiring—or, more precisely, negligent contracting.

The litigation pattern is similar to a case I teach (Lulu, SSRN), first developed for 1L torts by the late Prof. Marshall S. Shapo, to introduce students to litigation patterns more complex than a simple one plaintiff versus one defendant, as well as the collateral implications of legislative policy, such as worker compensation. Like here, in Wrobel v Trapani (Ill. App. Ct. 1970), the plaintiff was a subcontractor employee who sued the general contractor in negligence. Sometimes I fret over the age of some of the cases I rely on to teach 1Ls, but, I suppose, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Though a range of amici lined up on both sides, including the Suffolk Law Supreme Court Clinic for the plaintiff and the American Tort Reform Association for the defense, the instant case was straightforward, and the court's decision a workmanlike affirmance. 

Though the contract between general and sub had broad language about maintaining a safe site, all of the how-to was why the general hired the sub, thus within the sub's almost exclusive purview, the court reasoned. The general contractor had little more authority than to say stop or proceed with the work overall. The sub, and not the general, was involved at the detail level of how long and how many safety lines to have, the sort of stuff that would matter in the plaintiff's suit. So the plaintiff's legal maneuver was an ill-fated effort to subvert the exclusivity of worker comp. 

What's interesting about the case pedagogically is how the SJC framed its decision in terms of duty. The most ethereal of the fundamental elements of tort, duty is where the ghost in the machine gets its say, that is, that judges are permitted to put a thumb in the scale in favor of public policy. And the SJC did. 

"Whether a duty exists is a question of law informed by foreseeability, the relationship of the parties, existing social values, and public policy," the court wrote. Well said; hey, did the court crib my final exam answer key? Because that's an easy six points for the student who remembers.

Applying that standard, beyond the analysis of the facts, the court observed that the legislature frowns on third-party suits that might unfairly undermine worker comp as exclusive remedy. For uncertainty around liability could in turn put a damper on general contracting. The approach is classic economic-conservative, no doubt to the dismay of labor-friendly amici who supported the plaintiff, though not entirely unfairly, if one is suspicious of judicial policymaking.

All the same, the court's reliance on duty is curious in two respects. First, Wrobel v. Trapani was not decided on the basis of duty, rather on the common law doctrine of active-passive indemnity. In Wrobel, the court reached a different conclusion on potential liability in part, but that was because the general contractor in that case did have personnel on site, and the plaintiff alleged directly implicated negligence by one of the general's workers.

The heuristic of active-passive indemnity nevertheless works functionally the same as the court's duty analysis here: the general was not involved, so passive, and the sub was involved, so active, each relative to the alleged negligence. I urge my students to understand active-passive indemnity merely as the sort of hardening of common law logic that occurs through stare decisis when the same fact pattern, here a problem in duty, is presented over and over again in the courts.

Massachusetts does recognize active-passive indemnity, but it is disfavored relative to contractual terms. The instant case exhibits the same disfavor relative to the absence of contractual terms, which might otherwise have spelled out a more specific duty on the part of the general contractor.

Second, the court relies on the Second Restatement to bolster its duty analysis, apparently ignoring the SJC's adoption of the Third Restatement approach to duty, which I wrote about at length more than five years ago and won't unpack again here. Suffice to say the Third Restatement tries to purge policy from the common law duty analysis and might rather have decided the instant case on "scope of liability." That approach, in turn, might more closely reflect the operation of active-passive indemnity.

The dissenters in Doull v. Foster (Mass. 2021), two of five, warned that the Third Restatement approach tried to fix something that wasn't broken and so would not catch on. Their warning seems prescient, as the lower courts have been reluctant to modify their m.o. in duty and causation analysis, and even the SJC has seemed reluctant to double down on rocking the boat.

The instant case is Contento Suquilanda v. Skyway Roofing, Inc. (Mass. Aug. 17, 2026). Justice Serge Georges Jr. wrote the unanimous court opinion. A Suffolk Law alumnus, Justice Georges was sworn into the court in December 2020, so did not participate in the opinion in Doull v. Foster, issued in February 2021.

Dean blasts elitism in law, legal ed, then resigns

The dean of the law school where I work recently made two remarkable posts on LinkedIn about what he called "myopic prestige-based foolishness" and the "legal profession's snobbery," and then announced his resignation.

At risk of burying the lead, I want to focus on the two posts. On that score, tighten your seat belt, because you might never have heard these words from me before: I agree with the dean.

Young people's socioeconomic prospects continue to turn in bleak data—this week, a record low in first-time home buyers—spurring growing, alarming, and not characteristically American skepticism of democracy, at least the capital-driven version. (I wrote recently about the fondness of young Bhutanese for their socially minded monarchy.) I wonder whether this century will at last see American voters hit rock bottom and do something about our broken Constitution.

Socioeconomic stagnation, or worse, downward social mobility, in American society, irrespective of individual merit, is becoming ever harder to conceal behind starry-eyed paeans to the supposed land of opportunity.

I've written before about my own career track and the not-a-meritocracy that America is and maybe always has been, fabled reputation notwithstanding. It's unusual, though, to hear a law school dean say anything critical of the socioeconomic status quo—much less speaking from personal perspective. Usually deans in public prefer to paint rosy pictures. And I get it: morosity is not conducive to opening the checkbooks of well-to-do benefactors or prospective students. 

Deans have their job, and I have mine. Mine just happens to trade in truth. If you catch a dean just as her or his light is being extinguished, you might catch a rare glimpse of truth even there.

It should be said, I like Dean Sam Panarella. I've always thought his heart is in the right place and that he prizes ideals over self-preservation and bean counting. The latter are the prevalent priorities in the well compensated ranks of higher-education administration. Maybe that's why he wasn't cut out for it. 

My main worry about Dean Panarella always was how long he could stand to beat his head against a wall of willful intransigence. That's no secret; I told him that in our first 1:1 meeting.

I am sad but understanding in reporting that we now know the answer: three years.

Here is Dean Panarella's first post of two days ago. This post might seem innocuous, by the way—it did to me—owing in part to its polite eloquence. So know that things are going to heat up a notch thereafter.

At the time I write this post, there is no negative reaction whatsoever showing under this LinkedIn post. Reactions and comments comprise nothing but heaps of praise and agreement, likes and applause.

But Dean Panarella must have heard some discontent from someone, and fast. Because here goes the second post, within a day.

"Snobbery," you say? Well, the first post did not actually use that word, preferring instead the more genteel "foolishness." Yet the genteel approach "struck a nerve." I welcome the plain language to call out elitism for what it is.

U.S. News recently ranked UMass Law 171 of those nearly 200 law schools. That's bad—inexcusable—for the only public law school in the commonwealth at age 16.

A significant part of UMass Law's inability to better its ranking is forgivable as a function of the elitism problem the dean wrote about. Though U.S. News shrank the proportional input of reputational scoring in its law school ranking methodology since years past, now 25%, it's still a heavy investment in elitist defense of the status quo. U.S. News reported UMass Law at a sad 1.6 of 5 in academic peer review, and an only somewhat better 2.5 of 5 among lawyers and judges.

In turning down the volume of reputation, U.S. News amped up the value of inputs justifiably important to law students, such as placement and bar pass. Placement remains indirectly dependent on reputation. That's the very "class ceiling" the dean decried. It has been notoriously difficult for UMass Law graduates, regardless of merit, even to score interviews in the white-shoe Boston legal market. U.S. News reported mediocre employment outcomes at UMass Law.

Even a seemingly straightforward statistic such as bar pass conceals a bias in favor of privilege. In my experience, and the law school has some research to back this up, the number one obstacle my UMass Law students face in preparing for the bar exam is not being able to afford time off to study. Multiply that obstacle by the relentless demands of career and family for nontraditional students. The problem is money, not merit.

All that said, I am not letting UMass Law and the commonwealth off the hook. The bottom-line problem at UMass Law is and always has been, simply, the bottom line.

A public law school with an access mission sounds great in a speech. Indeed, UMass Law exists in part to combat the very elitism that oppresses it. But to assume that a public law school can be simultaneously more affordable for students and less costly to run than a private counterpart—well, I might call that myopic foolishness.

A school with an access mission will have more nontraditional students than its conventional academic counterparts. An access school will face greater student needs to overcome the serious shortcomings of American K16 education. An access school will have more students unable to afford resources, such as study aids, textbooks, and tutoring, not to mention the opportunity costs of working for free in field placements and internships. The list goes on.

The consequence of these student needs is that the school must shoulder a heavier than usual burden: more financial aid, more library resources, more faculty and teaching assistants, just to start. More resources means more costs. So a public, access school must cost more to run than its conventional counterpart in a competitive private school or foundation-funded "flagship" public school. Cutting pricey hors d'oeuvres from receptions and leather furniture from the lobby is not going to make up that difference.

Massachusetts never reckoned with this reality in creating UMass Law. The Massachusetts model of public higher education does not see universities as a social investment. Rather, academic units such as the law school are expected to pay their own way, balancing tuition and fees with expenditures. 

Idealism doesn't make math go away. A law school cannot take in less than a counterpart, but spend more. Yet that was the calculation with which the commonwealth founded its public law school.

Dean Panarella announced his resignation today, effective at academic year's end. He will move on to be the chief executive officer of the Foundation for Natural Resources and Energy Law. 

What job did he not get? We should call out the enforcers of that class ceiling.

Meanwhile, chalk up another win for the bean counters.

They are undefeated.

'We're Going To Need You To Come In On Saturday'

Something I've never missed about law practice is having to assign a 15-digit client-matter code to every six minutes of my billable day, a chore that some days took yet another non-billable hour of uncompensated overtime.

While technology ever promises to free workers from the mill, things seem only to get worse. More and more of my friends and family are bailing on the American marketplace in favor of the ex pat life in Europe. Go for the job and humane working hours; stay for the vacation time and family leave.

At the same time, it would be nice to make today's Big Law starting salary just once in my life, even if just for a year. In almost 30 years with a law license, my paycheck still falls short of the young associate's year one. I'm not holding my breath to catch up at UMass Law.

Massachusetts-based Exhibit "A" Brewing Company has its finger on this zeitgeist of futility and exploitation. I saw in my local liquor store just today Exhibit "A"'s We're Going To Need You To Come In On Saturday Scotch Ale. The can features scales of justice: evidence of the profession of the pictured man.

I'm not a Scotch ale fan, so I passed. But I've had Exhibit "A"'s Panda Punch Kettle Sour, and it was tasty.

Exhibit "A" started in Framingham, Massachusetts, west of Boston, but is in the process of moving to Williamsburg, Massachusetts, north of Springfield. The taproom might be worth a visit when it reopens in Williamsburg. The scales of justice actually figure in the company logo. The website doesn't say why, but I have my suspicions. 

Don't forget America, Christmas is on Thursday. Merry Christmas! And Friday is Friday. Get back to work! On Saturday, we have a special treat in store: You can make up your work from Thursday.

7 years since shocking hate crime, civil rights suit over Nantucket public meeting surfaces racial tension

Nantucket African Meeting House, 1880
Nantucket Historical Association

A shocking hate crime of vandalism on storied Nantucket Island in 2018 has resulted in sour police-community relations, a free-speech civil-rights claim remanded to trial court just this August, and retention in September of a private firm for an independent review.

In March 2018, the historic 1827 African Meeting House on Nantucket Island was vandalized with hate speech in black spray paint, including the "n-word," as shown in the image below, at bottom, from the appendix to the August appellate court decision. (Sensitive readers be warned.)

To date, no one has been convicted of the vandalism. In a civil rights lawsuit by Nantucket residents Jim Barros and Rose Marie Samuels, the Superior Court in 2022 blamed a suspect, Dylan Ponce, who asserted his Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination, and whom a grand jury refused to indict.

Ponce's employer, Jeffrey Sayle, pleaded guilty to false statement to police and testified that Ponce confessed (The Inquirer and Mirror). The civil case against Ponce was Barros v. Ponce, Civil Action No. 2175CV00004 (Mass. Super. Ct. June 6, 2022) (paywalled at Mass. Lawyers Weekly).

Town Manager Elizabeth Gibson
Town & County of Nantucket

Sayle is the brother-in-law of Nantucket town manager Elizabeth Gibson, who herself is married to the deputy police chief of Nantucket. Given the close relationships of officials and the slow and ultimately unsuccessful police investigation, rumors picked up steam in the years after the 2018 crime that family members of Gibson and police were being protected.

In 2020, Barros and Samuels appeared at a meeting of the town board, as they had before, to demand accountability in the still ongoing investigation. Their remarks fueled continuing suspicion of a cover-up, which prompted the ire of Gibson and police chief William Pittman. 

Chief William Pittman
(captured from public meeting video)

Samuels's exchange with Gibson was especially heated. Angrily denying untruthfulness, Gibson interrupted Samuels and demanded that the chair stop her from speaking further. Samuels, who also accused police of failure to investigate a hit-and-run crash that injured her son in 2018 (more at Change.org), was cowed back to hear seat. She returned to the microphone after Gibson stormed out of the meeting.

Barros accused police of lying because he he had been told by a detective that a perpetrator was identified, but no charges resulted. Pittman, who carried a sidearm, spoke in defense of the police and accused Barros of fueling rumors of a cover-up while claiming to know the identity of perpetrators and refusing to tell police. Pittman retired in 2023.

The salient part of the public meeting is on YouTube, cued here at 27 minutes, and running for 13 minutes:

Barros and Samuels brought a civil rights action against the board, Gibson, and Pittman for violating their free speech rights under the federal and state constitutions, and for intimidation under state civil rights law. The Superior Court granted defendants summary judgment on both counts. In August, the Appeals Court voted 2-1 to to remand Samuels's statutory civil rights claim only to proceed.

The facts matter, in more detail than I've stated them here, because the pretrial disposition turns on whether the evidence is sufficient to submit the claims to a jury. Interested readers can find more detailed articulations of the facts in the judges' opinions.

In short, the court rejected the constitutional claims because neither Barros nor Samuels was actually stopped from speaking. Samuels was allowed to return to the microphone and continue after Gibson stormed out. Barros was allowed to say his piece despite the objections interjected by Pittman.

The civil rights claims were closer calls, though, because intimidation, threat, or coercion is actionable even if the plaintiffs were permitted to speak. The test is one of interference or attempted interference of a protected right, here to speak at the public meeting. 

For pretrial resolution on defense motion, the court views the facts most favorably for the plaintiffs, the non-moving parties. Yet even accepting as true that Barros "was impugned by Pittman, suffered embarrassment, and felt intimidated by Pittman's being armed," the court decided, the sum of Pittman's alleged interference was only impassioned disagreement or disapproval, not intimidation.

Rose Marie Samuels, 2020
(captured from public meeting video)

However, in the case of Samuels, Gibson expressly demanded that she be silenced, and Samuels evidenced intimidation in once returning to her seat. The court concluded, "Gibson's response to Samuels's comments, including Gibson's physically threatening departure from the meeting and hostile, intimate back-and-forth with Samuels, could be sufficient to establish a violation of the [state civil rights act] at trial."

The court's analysis of Samuels's civil rights claim raised an interesting point of "constitutional tort" law, that is, the way tort law is used to operationalize litigation over civil rights. Under state civil rights law, the court explained, "[i]n determining whether conduct constitutes threats, intimidation, or coercion, we apply an objective or 'reasonable person' standard."

Yet like in tort law, the "reasonable person" standard is not wholly objective, but is a test of the reasonable person under the same circumstances as the person being tested, or standing in the shoes of the person being tested. As the court put it, "'objectivity' does not foreclose consideration of the plaintiff's situation"; "we need not ignore who the plaintiff is."

That subjectivity made a big difference in light of Samuels's personal history with police. Considering the facts favorably to her, "she had experienced, and continued to experience, racism from the Nantucket police," the court reasoned. "She mistrusted Gibson, the town manager, who was married to the deputy police chief."

In that emotional context, the court recalled, "Samuels maintains that Gibson 'stormed' past her when leaving the meeting, 'in a physically threatening manner,' 'glar[ed] down' at Samuels from 'within a few feet,' and stopped to ask, twice, whether Samuels was calling her a liar. Samuels characterized Gibson's voice as 'loud and threatening,' and Samuels was frightened by this encounter."

Samuels therefore made a sufficient case to present her claim of intimidation for a jury to decide.

Justice Smyth

Justice Paul Hart Smyth wrote a spirited dissent favoring the plaintiffs on all three counts on which the court affirmed judgment for the defense. He would have sent all four claims, for both plaintiffs, to the jury. Be forewarned, I'm going to quote Justice Smyth at some length, because what he adds to the analysis on Nantucket social conditions I find eye opening.

Speaking to those very circumstances that made a difference in Samuels's statutory claim, Justice Smyth painted a different and bleaker picture of police-community relations on Nantucket.

The record demonstrates that the plaintiffs inhabited a different stratum in the town altogether, as they maintained no apparent political, economic, social, public order, or law enforcement influence over town affairs. First, he described Gibson's social and economic power.

Gibson first began working for the town of Nantucket in 1988, when she was twenty-two years old. She has held the position of town manager since 1995. As town manager, Gibson is a remarkably powerful and influential individual. She exercises direct supervision over almost every town department, including the police, fire, building, finance, health, marine and coastal resources, public works, board of appeals, conservation commission, planning board, council on aging, counsel for human services, historic district commission, parks and recreation, and the shellfish and harbor advisory board. As town manager, Gibson maintains appointment and disciplinary (including discharge) powers over the department chiefs and their employees.... Gibson is not subject to general election, but ... had been reappointed for consecutive terms since 1995.

.... As an acknowledgment of Gibson's influence, multiple town residents warned Barros that he might face adverse consequences to challenging Gibson by implicating her relatives as being involved in the African Meeting House crime. These individuals cautioned Barros, "You know, it's [Gibson's] son and nephew; so, be careful. Watch your back."

He then described the plaintiffs in contrast:

The record demonstrates that the plaintiffs inhabited a different stratum in the town altogether, as they maintained no apparent political, economic, social, public order, or law enforcement influence over town affairs. Samuels, of Jamaican descent, became a full-time resident of Nantucket in 1999; she resides on Nantucket with her son. Samuels has worked in the home healthcare field when her health permits.

James Barros, seventy-six years old [in 2020], worked as a part-time drywaller and plasterer. He has lived intermittently on Nantucket since he was eight years old. Barros, skeptical that the Nantucket police were committed to solving the African Meeting House crime, sought assurance that the police were dutifully investigating the matter .... As Barros stated: "That building is part of me. I'm an African. I have a right to ask who is doing damage to my house."

James Barros
(captured from public meeting video)

Justice Smyth also put additional facts on the table to suggest that the court majority gave Barros's claim short shrift, particularly insofar as circumstances may subjectify the "reasonable person" analysis.

The record supports a rational jury concluding that Pittman's words and conduct threatened Barros to the extent that Barros was terrified when he stood at the town meeting to respond. Barros's fear was based in part on his experience as a Black man who was distrustful and a vocal critic of the Nantucket police. As a consequence of Barros's continued pressure on the police to meaningfully pursue the hate crime investigation, the lead town investigator, Detective Klinger, responded with hostility toward Barros. In addition, numerous people advised Barros "to watch [his] back," and warned him that the Nantucket police were going to "set him up." .... 

The record demonstrates that Barros's fear of the Nantucket police was well grounded. Barros, while driving, was pulled over by the police on two separate occasions following the March 11 board meeting. One Sunday morning, a Nantucket officer pulled Barros over as Barros was headed home from Mass celebrated at St. Mary's Church. The officer approached Barros's truck with his hand on his gun. Although the officer stated that he stopped Barros due to a brake light malfunction, the record indicates Barros's lights were functioning properly and allows the inference of a retaliatory stop. 

In sum, Justice Smyth found sufficient evidence to show interference with civil rights of both plaintiffs, as a matter of fact, and of persons of "reasonable fortitude" in their circumstances, applying the objective test.

Frederick Douglass, center left, at abolitionist meeting, N.Y., 1850.
He first visited Nantucket for an anti-slavery conference in 1841.
Smithsonian Institute/Mr. & Mrs. Set Charles Momjian, via National Park Service

Justice Smyth offered a spirited conclusion that invoked Nantucket's abolitionist history and rallied the judiciary to the defense of speech critical of public officials:

Nearly one hundred and eighty years after Frederick Douglass sought refuge in Massachusetts and traveled to Nantucket to make his first public speech condemning slavery, a person desecrated a site sacred to the island's Black community with the words "Nigger leave." The act was more than an act of property vandalism, as it communicated a direct threat to the plaintiffs' safety and well-being as Black residents of Nantucket. While the United States Constitution, Massachusetts Declaration of Rights, and our laws will never eradicate the hatred and racism in the hearts of individuals who commit such acts, our legal framework guarantees people the right to speak out against such offenses, to petition local officials for answers, and to criticize local government and police officials for failing in their oaths to support our laws and Constitution and to seek justice for all.

Of course, it would be folly to take the force and endurance of these constitutional rights for granted, perhaps lulled by the longstanding welfare and security of our nation and by our courts' historical commitment to safeguarding free speech rights as fundamental to our representative democracy. We do not have that luxury because, even considering the relative strength of our democracy, these rights are subject to the whim of unchecked power that allows for tyrannical tendencies to suppress contrary viewpoints. Thus, the judiciary's vigilance to protect from government interference our people's right to speak to public issues is as critical today as it was when the First Amendment was ratified in 1791.

(Paragraph break added; citations omitted.)

Nantucket Harbor, 2021
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

I get Pittman's frustration at having failed to secure a prosecution for the vandalism, and, presumably with laudable motivations to avoid conflict of interest, in having ceded the investigation to the district attorney and state police. Nevertheless, he and Gibson, as public officials, have to have thicker skin, especially for justifiable outrage at a public meeting.

I share public outrage that such a hateful act defaced a historic place of contemporary cultural importance, and that no prosecution followed, upon whatever tragicomedy of errors. (I include the image below, from the court's appendix, despite the offensive epithet, to demonstrate the severity and offensiveness of the crime.) To be fair to Nantucketers, after the overnight vandalism in 2018, more than a dozen distraught local residents turned out to scrub the African Meeting House clean by 10 a.m. the next morning (Cape Cod Times). But bad eggs are still at large.

Estimates vary, but cost of living on Nantucket usually is said to exceed the national average by more than 100%, and housing costs run more than 300% over. You can bet that upper-crust property owners aren't doing much of the manual labor on the island to keep that economic engine running. Nantucket depends on a significant Jamaican population to work in the tourism industry. Yet the government on the island is worrisomely non-representative of the population by racial demographics.

Once addressing a crowd in Cork, Ireland, Frederick Douglass was shouted down with cries of, "That's a lie," "He shan’t speak," and "Down with the n—" (Gilder Lehrman Center for the Study of Slavery, Resistance, and Abolition). Justice Smyth must have been conscious of the eerie parallel to the meeting dispute and vandalism here. I do not mean to accuse Gibson and Pittman of the same culpability as slave-owners, nor of racism. Rather, I mean to suggest that Nantucket officials ought be cognizant that those same sentiments surfacing today, leveled against black residents, is not a good look.

At some point, the difference between official incompetence and insensitivity, on the one hand, and willful cover-up, on the other hand, becomes immaterial.

In September, a working group of the town board retained a Texas forensics firm, LCG Discovery Experts, to review the investigation into the African Meeting House vandalism—though not to re-investigate the crime. According to Nantucket Current News, the independent review was spurred by a citizen petition.

The case is Barros v. Select Board, No. 23-P-1058 (Mass. App. Ct. Aug. 19, 2025), available at the Social Law Library. Justice Rachel E. Hershfang wrote the court opinion for herself and Justice Vickie L. Henry, contra the dissent of Justice Smyth.

Court Appendix in Barros v. Select Board

Overheard recently in a Vermont diner ...

A patron told his dining companion that he was happy that his work gives him a way to help people truly in need. Then, 

Background: Autumn, Oct. 2025, in Saint-Alexandre, Quebec, Canada, by RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 

'Liberal Playmaker' goes Substack; Boston awaits FIFA

"The Liberal Playmaker," a.k.a. Jose Benavides, is now on Substack.

Benavides, a Texas attorney, past co-author, and excellent former student, has been producing informative and compelling content about soccer (football) and politics since launching a year ago (featured at The Savory Tort in March 2025).

Benavides has a passion for the beautiful game, and it is contagious through his writing. His narrative pieces recall great players and great games and also comment on the current business and art of the sport. 

Here are recent titles:

• The Ghost of Old Trafford: Fernando Redondo's Masterclass
• The Triangle That Endured: Croatia’s Lesson in Collective Control 
• Finding Young Del Piero (and What Modern Football Forgot)
• Totti The Thief
• The Misunderstood Final: Milan vs Juventus, 2003

The Liberal Playmaker will be a content maker to watch as we near World Cup 2026. Boston has deployed a massive publicity campaign to gin up interest, e.g., Boston's South Station, below, in July (RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0), though the relevant venue is Gillette Stadium in Foxborough, Massachusetts, home to the MLS New England Revolution and NFL Patriots.