Kuwait ponders a future after fossil fuels

Kuwait City skyline

Kuwait is an oil country, and Kuwait City glows with prosperity. Kuwaitis know, though, that they can't ride the oil train forever.

Earlier this month, I took part in a program of the Kuwait Bar Association (KBA) and International Association of Lawyers (UIA) in Kuwait on the mediation of energy disputes. (All photos RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0.)

Kuwait Bar Association (Society of Lawyers)

The program addressed both state and corporate actors, which often in the Middle East are functionally the same, as political royals are only formally differentiated from their investments. Iraq invaded Kuwait in 1990 largely in response to long-running disputes over access to oil reserves under the countries' desert border. So it's understandable that Kuwait, powered by a 70-year-old, $1tn sovereign wealth fund born almost entirely of oil revenue, is an eager evangelist for non-violent dispute resolution in extractive industries.

Kuwait Towers

I spent some additional time in Kuwait, besides the KBA-UIA program, to see the sights of Kuwait City. The first place I went was the iconic Kuwait Towers. Dating to 1979, the towers were designed to be monumental more than functional, architecturally distinct among Kuwait's historical water towers, a remaining few clusters of which dot the urban landscape. Repaired since they were trashed in the Iraq invasion, and refurbished in the 2010s, the Kuwait Towers are a patriotic reminder of a Kuwait that long imported fresh water for its survival, before oil wealth paid for expensive but effective desalinization. 

Dhow model at Marine Museum

On display at the Al Hashemi Marine Museum and the Maritime Museum are Kuwaiti dhows dating to the 19th century. Some were used for pearling, the dangerous prospect but potential big score of a once seafaring economy. Many of the dhows are specially fitted with large water tanks running along the keel.

Thus imported, water historically was famously expensive in Kuwait. There's still a popular maxim that water, the truly scarce resource of the desert, is more expensive than oil. Water still is expensive, or should be, because desalinization is expensive and largely fossil fueled. 

Other legacy water towers

Government subsidies, however, obscure the cost of water. A combined utility bill in Kuwait, including water, electricity, sewer, garbage, etc., might run US$40 or $50 a month, single family—a lot for some locals, especially ex-pat laborers. But even correcting to U.S. cost of living with a 250% multiplier, utilities including water are far cheaper than in the States. Environmentalists fret over the conceit that water is inexpensive. I thought that my hotels would caution about water consumption, as is common in desert countries, not to mention American desert states, but they did not.

In keeping with the maxim, petrol is cheap. I was worried when Europcar warned me that gas stations accept only cash—until I worked out the prices. I filled up my SUV rental's 13-gallon (about 50L) tank for less than US$10.

Evening recreation at Dasman Beach

There's much to see in Kuwait City, in terms of museums and historical sites. What struck me, though, is the prevalence of western influence and a near indifference to foreign tourism. Attractions are aimed at locals. Kuwait excels at affording its people diversions of all kinds, including the educational and recreational: museums, beaches, playing fields. But the focus is decidedly domestic, bringing the world to Kuwaitis, not the other way around.

Texas Roadhouse Beneid Al Gar, one of three Kuwait City locations

Limited opening hours and a ramshackle bus system make many attractions difficult to access for visitors. Ride-share app Careem works well, though drivers speak little English. Some places' websites are in Arabic only. Besides foods, souvenirs are sorely limited: the norm is an assortment of refrigerator magnets and ball caps with cheap, afterthought patches. Walking south from Kuwait Towers on the city's corniche, the extent of Kuwait's Americanization in particular is on full display. Behind the beaches, the chain restaurants line up: TGI Friday's, the Cheesecake Factory, Texas Roadhouse.

One tentacle of sprawling Souq Al-Mubarakiya

Besides the beach, a favorite evening destination for locals is one of the city's many shopping malls, from the central 1,250-square-foot Assima Mall, with its gourmet Monoprix grocery, to the sprawling 334-acre (1.35m-square-meter) Avenues, with more than 1,100 retailers. Notwithstanding the scale and upscale nature of these operations, they are loaded with the sort of western retailers found on main street anywhere. There's plenty to buy, eat, and drink—besides alcohol; Kuwait is a dry country—but very little that is specially Arabian. A more touristically gratifying destination is the city's Mubarakiya Souq, though its modernized storefronts also cater mostly to local needs. The people-watching is better than the shopping.

Camels, highwayside

To see more than just the city, and also to get a closer look at both rural life and Kuwaiti infrastructure, I drove out both to the Iraq border in the north and to the Saudi border in the south. The highway network is impressive, if a work in progress, strong on asphalt, weak on road marking. Polished bridges here and there are designed for the exclusive use of crossing camels.

In both the north and the south, the desert is dotted with green patches of farms, fed, remarkably, by well water. Visiting these farms for markets of fresh produce, petting zoos, and other children's amusements is a seasonal family pastime.

Starbucks Wafra

Near the Saudi border, the town of Wafra is the center of an equine economy. Riding centers, breeding operations, and a market for export speak to the enduring importance of horses in Arabia. On Wafra's dusty outskirts, I was surprised to find a cluster of modern buildings, including a multistory veterinary center and, no kidding, the farthest flung Starbucks I've ever seen. A sign at Starbucks cautioned that horses are not permitted in the drive-thru.

Electric towers in the desert

Strung across the desert landscape is a mind-boggling network of electric towers, stretching lines into the distance from any vantage point. Kuwait imports electricity from Gulf partners such as Qatar and Oman, and even then struggles to meet demand in sweltering summers (e.g., N.Y. Times). Meeting electrical needs is simultaneously an incentive and an obstacle to Kuwait energy transition away from fossil-fuel dependence.

Change through energy transition and emission reduction was a recurring theme at the mediation program, besides the benefits and skills of mediation itself. I did not expect to hear, and am not accustomed to hearing, harsh criticism of fossil-fuel dependence in the Middle East. Yet in a session titled "The Climate Crisis and the Transition Imperative," speakers were adamant opponents of the status quo.

Panelists: Yousef Al-Abdullah; Elena Athwal, Qatar,
founder and CEO of consulting firm Icelis Global; and Sara Akbar

Moderator Sara Akbar, a chemical petroleum engineer, current CEO of Oilserv Kuwait, and a renowned figure in the modern history of Kuwaiti oil development, condemned the "New World Disorder" of Trumpian climate-change denial and on-again-off-again Paris participation. She argued passionately that the global costs of unchecked climate change, including devastated coastal cities and lost lives, will vastly outpace the costs of energy transition to renewables. According to Akbar, even the Kuwait oil industry understands that the era of fossil-fuel dominance in the Kuwait economy must end.

Akbar cited an interesting and alarming local statistic: Kuwait has long monitored the maximum temperature of the Persian Gulf at the sea floor, which reliably marked 95 or 96 degrees Fahrenheit. Now, she said, it routinely exceeds 100 degrees, evidencing the evaporation that is fueling catastrophic rainstorms from Dubai to Bangladesh.

Yousef Al-Abdullah, research scientist at the Kuwait Institute for Scientific Research, discussed the energy transition and emission reduction commitments of Gulf states. In contrast with the U.S. re-withdrawal from the Paris Agreement and Trump Administration promise to double-down on drilling, Gulf states have articulated ambitious aims.

A leader in goal-setting is the United Arab Emirates (UAE). The UAE aims for 47% reduction in greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions by 2030. In energy transition, the UAE aims for 15% renewables in its energy mix; has adopted a net-zero target, green hydrogen strategy, independent energy regulator, and national climate law; plans a massive expansion of solar capacity; and is investing more than $14 billion in transition this fiscal year.

Persian Gulf coastline from Kuwait Towers

Kuwait looks weak on the same benchmarks. But that's not the whole story, Al-Abdullah said. Kuwait believes that some neighbors have announced goals they can't realistically meet, such as the Saudi aim to cut 278m tons of annual GHG emissions by 2030, and Kuwait wants to be realistic. Notwithstanding articulated commitments on the international stage, Kuwait has announced targets domestically, Al-Abdullah said, such as net-zero in the oil sector by 2050, and in other sectors by 2060.

Oil production is down over 10 years, Al-Abdullah said, and that's problematic for environmental strategy. The economy remains dependent on fossil fuels, to the tune of 90% of revenues, and a strong economy is needed to transition away from fossil fuels. Production is down for many reasons, including OPEC restrictions; increased competition from other sources, such as Uruguay, Paraguay, Guyana, Mauritania, and Uganda; and rising production costs.

Here my observation on Kuwait's underdeveloped tourism economy is salient, at least in small part. Because Al-Abdullah said that key to Kuwait's future is diversification of the economy, reducing the dominant position of fossil fuels, especially relative to a newly developed service sector. 

In domestic policy, a national plan called "Kuwait Vision 2035" contemplates an economy centered on logistics, leveraging Kuwait's world-crossroads location by, for example, expanding airport and seaport capacity. Vision 2035 imagines a Kuwait that is more livable for residents and hospitable to visitors, expanding highways and building a rail and metro system.

Besides infrastructure, transformation of Kuwait's workforce is required, too. Kuwait suffers an affliction known to other oil-rich states, which is a comfortable, but under-skilled national workforce. Kuwait's education system must rise to meet the challenge of preparing Kuwaitis to participate in the new economy, while the social and economic fabric must expand the job market and incentivize people to enter it.

Like other Middle Eastern states, Kuwait has a worrisome dependence on foreign workers. Ex-pats, whom I mentioned above, constitute some 70% of the resident population and have no pathway to citizenship. Blue-collar workers hale especially from the Asian subcontinent and Pacific rim. Qatar's plight in this regard was highlighted and made controversial by the location of the 2022 FIFA World Cup there; whether reforms were meaningful or sufficient is debatable.

The existing service economy, including legal, financial, and engineering services, depends heavily on ex-pat white-collar workers, too, who make up a fair chunk of that 70%. At the KBA-UIA program, I met lawyers from other Arabic-speaking countries who have worked for years, even decades, in Kuwait. They are generously permitted to practice, more than an out-of-jurisdiction lawyer may in the States, on matters related to their home jurisdictions. But there's no pathway to bar admission, such as might expose the domestic market to competition.

Legal and regulatory reforms will have to complement the development of a service sector and trade center, Al-Abdullah said. I don't think Kuwaitis alone will be able to make that change. Rather, Kuwait will have to open itself up with a more robust immigration framework, affording ex-pats the likes of property and other rights, if not naturalization, to foster a justified sense of ownership in the new economy.

KOC Oil and Gas Exhibition Hall

Apropos of energy transition, one of the most interesting tourist attractions in Kuwait is the Kuwait Oil Company (KOC) Oil and Gas Exhibition. The exhibition—reservations required for guided tours only—offers an artfully constructed tour of the history of Kuwait, from its desert and seafaring cultural history, to British protectorate and the discovery of oil, rise to global energy power, and Iraq invasion, destruction, and recovery.

Exhibit dramatizing Kuwait oil extraction: every second, every day

The exhibition is decidedly a paean to oil. But it is not wholly environmentally tone-deaf. One dramatic exhibit shows, with a massive gush of black liquid, the astonishing amount of oil that Kuwait pumps from the earth every second of every day, averaged out. The exhibits don't say it plainly, but there is an undeniable implication that this business model is not indefinitely sustainable.

The next chapter of Kuwait energy policy is ready to be written.

Tchotchkes for sale at the KOC Oil and Gas Exhibition gift shop

Kuwait sign on the corniche

Contemporary sculpturist comments on Ukraine war

Lakenen considers the war in Ukraine in this 2022 sculpture.

A couple of weeks ago, I visited artist Tom Lakenen's Lakenenland, a sculpture park in the Marquette area of Michigan's Upper Peninsula.

I'm a sucker for an outdoor art installation, and Lakenen's work does not disappoint. I only had a couple of hours, but I could have spent the day exploring the inviting woodsy trails.

Composed of "junk," Lakenen's art in its very existence speaks to capitalist materialism and environmental sustainability. About and even besides such themes, Lakenen has a lot to say, and much of it resonates with the ordinary American, especially in terms of economic frustrations. I could not help but notice that vehicles in the parking lot boasted bumper stickers of both "red" and "blue" American political extremes. But insofar as any visitors expressed outrage, it was along with the artist, not at him.

Lakenen is always adding new pieces. I was especially moved by his 2022 work on the war in Ukraine. Above and below, I share some images of that piece. I thank Tom Lakenen for sharing his art with visitors. All photos by RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0, with no claim to underlying sculptural works, presumed © Tom Lakenen.

1901: Disgruntled laborer shoots, kills President

Assassination of President McKinley by T. Dart Walker, c. 1905
Library of Congress

In Buffalo, New York, this week, I felt obliged by recent events to seek out the place where Leon Czolgosz fatally shot President William McKinley in 1901.

Contemplating Thomas Crooks's still unknown motive for shooting President Donald Trump in Pennsylvania on July 13, I thought about something Bill O'Reilly told Jon Stewart on The Daily Show last week: that every U.S. presidential assassin has been mentally ill.

I wasn't sure about that. After some looking into it, I suppose the accuracy of the assertion depends on what one means by mentally ill.

One could argue that anyone with ambiguous motive to murder a President is mentally unwell. Indeed, an "insanity" argument was made in the criminal defense of Czolgosz for the 1901 shooting of McKinley. The defense hardly slowed the conviction. Inside of two months from the shooting, Czolgosz was executed.

Site of President McKinley assassination, Buffalo, N.Y., 2024
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

So in informal terms, O'Reilly probably is right. In clinical terms, we don't have enough data to be sure of the mental state or diagnosis of past assassins. Experts have disagreed about Czolgosz. Then there's the legal concept of "insanity," having to do with capacity to differentiate right from wrong. Czolgosz knew what he was doing; I don't think O'Reilly meant to say otherwise.

Czolgosz was attracted to radical socialism and then anarchism because he lost his job in an economic crash when he was 20—the same age as Crooks when his life ended. Czolgosz couldn't find consistent work amid the labor turmoil of the ensuing depression in the 1890s. Born into a Polish-immigrant family, he became convinced that the American economic system was rigged to favor the establishment over the working class. Hm.

Czolgosz learned that socialists and anarchists in Europe were struggling with similarly entrenched economic inequality as royals endeavored to maintain their traditional grip on social order. European anarchists had resorted to assassination as a means to express their displeasure and spark reform. However, bolstering O'Reilly's theory on Czolgosz's mental state, even American socialists and anarchists raised, no metaphorical pun intended, red flags over Czolgosz.

Pan-American Exposition, by Oscar A. Simon & Bro., 1901
Library of Congress

In his second term as President, McKinley was in Buffalo for the Pan-American Exposition, a kind of world's fair. He was riding a wave of national optimism upon consolidation of American power in the hemisphere. It was in McKinley's first term that the United States seized Puerto Rico, Guam, and the Philippines from Spain after substantially prevailing in the Spanish-American War. 

McKinley was keen to attend the exposition, because he saw political promise in associating himself with American prosperity and invention. The 342-acre exposition featured the latest engines, the hydroelectric power of nearby Niagara Falls, and an "Electric Tower" framed by the newly proliferating magic of light bulbs. 

No doubt McKinley's exposition strategy galled Czolgosz. In a morbid irony, when Czolgosz was executed in October 1901, it was by electric chair.

Reenactment in Porter's Execution of Czolgosz (1901).
Library of Congress

Like President Trump, McKinley liked being up close and in person with his public, despite the exposure to risk. McKinley's security staff, of course, knew of the anarchist assassinations in Europe and the organization of anarchism in the United States. McKinley's top adviser twice canceled the appearance of the President at the exposition's Temple of Music, for fear he could not be protected there. McKinley overruled the cancellations. That's where he was shot.

Like Crooks, Czolgosz intended to shoot the President while he was giving a speech, the day before the Temple of Music event. But the crowd at the speech was too dense, and Czolgosz didn't think he could make the shot. So instead, he approached the President in a receiving line at the Temple of Music and shot him at close range. Czolgosz's first shot only grazed the President. The second struck McKinley in the abdomen and resulted in death two days later.

Fordham Drive, Buffalo, N.Y., 2024
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

Like Crooks, Czolgosz was recognized as a potential threat. But security blunders—for example, he should not have been permitted in the receiving line with the closed and covered hand that concealed a gun—let him reach the President. After the shooting, he was tackled by a heroic but later undersung African-American man standing nearby, then pummeled by security staff. Czolgosz might have been killed right then, but McKinley himself called off the beating.

Many Americans no doubt saw the assassination of McKinley as signaling a tragic inevitability of the times. President Lincoln had been assassinated in 1865, and President Garfield in 1881. Director Edwin S. Porter made a creepy, one-minute silent film for the Thomas Edison company in 1901 about the assassinations; The Martyred Presidents is available online at the Library of Congress. Present in Buffalo to film the exposition and yet early in his prolific career, Porter also made a four-minute film featuring a reenactment of Czolgosz's execution.

President Roosevelt at the Wilcox House, 2024.
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

Another assassination attempt did follow, injuring President Theodore Roosevelt in 1912. Roosevelt had been inaugurated in Buffalo in succession of McKinley in 1901. The location of the hasty inauguration, the then-private Ansley Wilcox House, is now a National Historic Site in Buffalo; I stopped by there, too.

Me'n'T.R. meet inside the Wilcox House.
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

Roosevelt's survival seemed to break the generational cycle, at least until the assassination of President John F. Kennedy in 1963. A more entertaining explanation for the abatement of presidential assassinations is featured in Sarah Vowell's characteristically superb book Assassination Vacation (2006): the Robert Todd Lincoln "jinx." The eldest son of President Abraham Lincoln was present at the assassinations of his father, President James Garfield, and President McKinley, but not for the attack on T.R.

The Pan-American Exposition is long gone. The land where the incident occurred became a residential development. A small plaque and garden, and a flagpole and flag in the roadway median of Fordham Drive in Buffalo mark the approximate location of the fatal shooting in 1901.

A nearby high school is named for McKinley. Buffalo, N.Y., 2024.
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

Women 'knew their place' turns out to be losing union argument to justify discrimination in port jobs

Herman Melville boarded the Acushnet at New Bedford Harbor in 1841.
RJ Peltz-Steele, 2022, CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

From the Massachusetts Appeals Court today, a reminder that however far we've come, we've yet so far to go.

Specifically, [plaintiff-appellee] Robar alleged that she was passed over for work [at the Port of New Bedford, Mass.] as a forklift operator in favor of men who not only were less qualified than she was, but who—unlike her—lacked a mandatory qualification for the position. When given the opportunity to respond, the union's then-treasurer (later president and business agent), Edmond Lacombe, supplied a written statement that proved unhelpful to the union's defense. Specifically, among other things, he recounted that the women who were hired for the traditionally female positions "did not complain"; rather, "[t]hey, more or less, knew their place when work was issued and accepted the outcome."

The union was the defendant-appellant in the case, because its referrals to the employer were de facto selections for hiring. Perhaps needless to say, the court affirmed for the plaintiff on the merits. The court also rejected the union's contention that the National Labor Relations Act preempted enforcement of state labor law, rather finding the subject-matter jurisdiction concurrent.

The case is International Longshoremen Association, Local 1413-1465 v. Massachusetts Commission Against Discrimination (Mass. App. Ct. Apr. 3, 2024) (temporary state posting). Justice James R. Milkey wrote the unanimous decision of the panel, which also comprised Chief Justice Green and Justice Grant.

Alumnus advises 1Ls

From a valued alumnus who's out there working to make the world a better place ...

Me thinking of @RJPeltzSteele during Torts on the first day of classes. pic.twitter.com/Vx5NPIKESw

— @voteunion©️2023 | #1u (@voteunion) August 31, 2023

Students join labor demands for living wage at RISD

(UPDATE, April 18: Labor and RISD reached a tentative agreement, Wazlavek tweeted last night.)

The Rhode Island School of Design—famous alumni include Seth MacFarlane, BFA '95 (Family Guy, The Orville)—has lately been embroiled in a labor dispute.

I saw, and heard, protestors yesterday morning when I drove to the nearby Providence Amtrak station. They made plenty of noise, yet in an artsy, celebratory way. You really don't want to mess with creative types. With faculty support, students are demonstrating alongside custodians.

An attorney-alum of my torts and comparative law classes is working on the matter from the Teamsters side. Aaron Wazlavek (SSRN) has been on site this week.  (Video NSFW: adult language. That's just how labor rolls.)

Settle the contract @risd. One day longer, one day stronger.

We @Teamsters won’t leave until we get a deal executed for our members.#1u #Organize #OneBigUnion pic.twitter.com/2H3DFT7fuF

— @voteunion©️2023 | #1u (@voteunion) April 12, 2023

According to arts independent Hyperallergic, "[c]urrently, the average wage of a RISD custodian, groundskeeper, or mover is $16.74 per hour. The lowest wage is $15.30. Teamsters Local 251 has fought for a $20 minimum wage ...."

The living wage for one adult with no children in Providence County, Rhode Island, is $17.42/hr., according to the MIT calculator.  The minimum wage in Rhode Island is $13/hr.

In March, New York University law students made headlines demanding a choice between credit hours and an hourly wage for work on law review. 

The New York students have a point. I've long been critical of unpaid internships. Nowadays, U.S. law schools require free labor in many guises. Call it "field placement," "externship," "pro bono"—even new lawyers are expected to "volunteer" before they can get paying jobs. It's all subversion of the simple principle that one should be paid for one's work. Corporations and employers delight in pushing American work-life balance in the wrong direction. The legal education system and accrediting American Bar Association are complicit.

The set rate for student labor—when we pay in real money; I just hired a research assistant for the fall—at UMass Law in south-coast Massachusetts is $15/hr. The living wage for one adult with no children in Bristol County, Massachusetts, is $17.88, according to the MIT calculator.

Latest reports suggest that RISD and labor will find a middle ground between $15 and $20. I hope it's at least halfway.

Lawyers be a-ballin'?

Canadian lawyers protest legal aid de-funding in 2014
(Sally T. Buck via Flickr CC BY-NC-ND 2.0).
My wife was a legal services attorney after law school.
Her salary could not have paid both law school debt
and even a modest mortgage.

A student loan specialist giving advice on The Takeaway this morning said, "Don't live like a lawyer when you're a student, and you won't live like a student when you're a lawyer."

Betsy Mayotte, founder and president of The Institute of Student Loan Advisors, was repeating an aphorism, she said, as a caution against students borrowing more than they need for higher education. Don't count on any program for loan forgiveness, she warned; rather, assume that you'll have to pay back every dime.*

That's sound, conservative economic advice, especially for an America stretched thin on credit card debt and short on long-term savings. But for anything, I could not work out how the aphorism embodied the message.

What does it mean to "live like a lawyer"?

Mayotte had just cautioned students that they should take the time, however boring the task sounds, to read the whole of their promissory notes. The notes well explain what borrowers are in for, she advised, and "no one told me that" will not later be an excuse to default on debt.

Also good advice. But doesn't living like a lawyer mean being supremely attentive to the fine print and acting conservatively in anticipation of adverse circumstances?

In her informative and insightful book, How to Be Sort of Happy in Law School, Professor Kathryne M. Young related research that successful lawyers are more often natural pessimists, marking a contrast with the successful optimists who have the lead in the other professions, clergy and medicine. That's because a lawyer's job is to prepare for the worst, while clergy and doctors are busy instead coaxing their clients toward a joyful salvation of one kind or another.

Did the aphorism mean to be an optimist when a student, so you don't have to be a student when you're a pessimist?  What does that even mean?

You, dear reader, are no doubt quicker on the draw than I, so you've probably worked it out. It dawned on me an hour or so later:

Don't live like a baller when you're poor, or you'll be poor when you're supposed to be ballin'.

The problem is that "lawyer" doesn't mean rich to me. 

I'm a lawyer. Not rich. My wife's a lawyer. Also not rich. I checked.

The vast majority of my former students work in public service jobs, if they're in JD-required positions at all. And even the few in private practice: not rich. Okay, I can think of one. But I think he was rich already.

Don't get me wrong. We're not struggling. Two JDs put our household income in the 90-something percentiles, according to the DQYDJ calculator, with me in the 90s as an individual and my wife, who has a master's degree, as well as her law degree, in the 70s. 

But income is only one measure of wealth, and, I daresay, not the most important. We both went into serious debt to get those JDs. Our home is mortgaged. We had not paid off our graduate education by the time our only child went to university. And we could not afford to get her through four years without her going into debt, too. 

Neither of us started off loaded. We still buy our clothes at Goodwill and Savers. Habits die hard. I just threw away my wife's socks with holes in them while she was out of the house. She won't do it. But I think she deserves better.

When I left law practice in 1996, I was making $50k, which is about $95k adjusted for inflation. I left that for my first job in academics, where I made $35k—$15k less than the IT guy. "Supply and demand," the dean said.

Now I make more. But after advancing in academics for 25 years, I still make less than the average lawyer in the mid-Atlantic, where I practiced, and just a little more than the nationwide average starting salary for a first-year associate.

The takeaway is that I don't associate being a lawyer with being rich. And it's alarming if people are going to law school with that expectation, or if that's how the public sees lawyers. "Kill all the lawyers" was the suggestion of a butcher.

I just finished some physical therapy for an injured shoulder. The bill for that, to my insurer, was $355 per hour. I saw a podiatry specialist recently. That was billed at $122 for what I think was scheduled as a 15-minute appointment, though it took less than 10.  We'll call it $488 per hour.  I like both those providers, but neither is a superstar gracing the cover of Physicians Weekly.

A very gross number, but the average U.S. lawyer's billable hour now runs about $300. The lawyer has more investment in education than the physical therapist, if a bit less than the doctor. The lawyer is a bargain. Clergy is a better bargain, but that's their thing.

Why isn't the saying, "Don't live like a doctor when you're a student, and you won't live like a student when you're a doctor"?

Well, of course, not everyone in healthcare is rich, either.  My wife had an ER visit and hospital stay, no procedures, last summer that was billed at about $13,000 for two days. At the same time, one of my nieces and one of my brothers work as nurses in hospitals; neither of them is making bank. Where's the money going?

I don't know what the right graduate school investment is to get rich. I didn't make it. Maybe whatever gets you to be a healthcare CEO. Be the owner of the hospital, not a provider in it.

Law and medicine can open the door to opportunity, to improve your lot if you're not living comfortably. I'm not knocking that. But no one should go into educational debt without a plan at least to do better than status quo. And plans should be based on realistic expectations.

The aphorism doesn't fit. Worse, it's dangerously misleading. We've got a problem in America with access to education and upward socioeconomic mobility. Simplifying the narrative to suggest that a professional degree will necessarily afford return on investment is not part of the solution.

* I've been reading about the challenges against the Biden student loan forgiveness order. You can follow the legal story at Reason. I'd love to see the plan go through; my daughter would benefit. I'm sorry to say, though, I think the challengers are right: the President exceeded his authority. The unfortunate political outcome, I predict, is that the Administration will be blamed for breaking a promise, and the Supreme Court will be blamed for enforcing the law, both thereby suffering unwarranted further damage to already embattled credibility. Meanwhile, Congress, which in fact held the key to untie the President's hands, but can't ween itself off addiction to money, and especially Democrats, who passed on a real opportunity to make a difference for access to education and socioeconomic opportunity, will escape accountability.

With regard to the title of this post, you can read more about the circumfix a-/-ing at Wiktionary. Read more about "the habitual be" at Slate.

I've been away from the blog for a while owing to an exhausting, if variably rewarding and challenging December and January. I'm back in the saddle now and look forward to catching up on some matters I'm eager to share. Thank you for your patience, and stay tuned!

'Behind Bars': Petroff article explains how secrecy shields private prison labor from public scrutiny

Alyssa Petroff, a judicial law clerk at the Supreme Judicial Court of Maine, has published Behind Bars: Secrecy in Arizona’s Private Prisons’ Labor Pool in the new volume 4, number 2, of The Journal of Civic Information.

In a foreword, Journal Editor David Cuillier, professor of journalism at the University of Arizona, wrote,

Alyssa Petroff educated me on the exploitative private for-profit prison complex in my home state of Arizona—shrouded in secrecy because of a public records law interpreted in favor of corporations. I was astounded by her research findings.... She has a great career ahead of her, based on the eye-popping revelations in Behind Bars....

An Arizona native and 2022 law school graduate, Petroff started work on the article with a paper in my Freedom of Information Law class. Her finished work won the 2021-2022 student writing competition of The Journal of Civic Information, an honor co-sponsored by the Brechner Center for Freedom of Information and accompanied by a $2,000 cash prize.

Here is the abstract:

Prisons run by private corporations in the United States have at hand a pool of individuals who are, by law, required to work while they are incarcerated. This article examines the secrecy behind the use of inmate labor, including on-the-job injuries  sustained by prisoners, focusing on the state of Arizona as a case study. Ultimately, the  article recommends that states create oversight boards of private prison systems or allow private prison records to be accessible through already existing public records laws.

Attorney Petroff was a student also in my Comparative Law class. So I benefited immensely and from her presence and participation, ceaselessly inquisitive and gracious, in law school. I share Professor Cuillier's enthusiasm for her budding career as she cuts her teeth in judicial writing at the Maine high court.

The article, again, is Alyssa Petroff, Behind Bars: Secrecy in Arizona’s Private Prisons’ Labor Pool, 4:2 J. Civic Info. 1 (2022).

Governor's proposed pay hikes evince typical bureaucratic ignorance of how working people earn

Governor Dan McKee
(Kenneth C. Zirkel CC BY-SA 4.0 via Wikimedia)

Rhode Island Governor Dan McKee's proposal for huge increases to state administrators' pay, on the scale of revising $135,000 upward to $190,000, shows ignorance of how ordinary working people earn.

Our present condition of oppressive inflation has us all thinking a lot about pay. For ordinary working people in America, the only way to avoid an effective pay reduction over time is to change jobs. (Hat tip at my wife for putting words to that observation.) Employers demand "team" or "family" loyalty, 24/7 availability, and uncompensated overtime. But the loyal employee winds up being underpaid for overworking.

Raises don't keep up with inflation, if there are raises at all. In my own compulsorily union job, 2% raises are the contract standard. That rate tracks inflation for about the last 10 years, on average, but not for the preceding 10 years, when the union negotiated the rate, nor for the present year. The union admonishes that the university would give zero were it not for, of course, the union, so workers should be grateful for losing less badly. Then when the pandemic hit, the union asked for bigger pay cuts than the university proposed. So the union lost all credibility with me.

The "family" loyalty employers demand works only one way. At the first sign of hardship, jobs are cut; people in the lower ranks are disposable. Business cries out for relief form taxpayers, even as bottom lines bulge. Profiteering, not necessity, is pushing the present inflation, and there is no will in Washington for protection against price gouging. No wonder some workers are at last wising up to "quiet quitting," which is not quitting at all.

I make OK money, less than market rate for what I do, and less than I was promised since my employer, with union assent, reneged on an agreement, but a lot more than most Rhode Islanders. And I think I'm pretty good at what I do. You can't help but learn something with 25 years' experience.

Yet if I left my job, my employer would be pleased to replace me with someone lacking experience and paid two-thirds or less. Indeed, the norm in legal academia, in step with the private marketplace, is to prefer a 20-something lawyer out of a clerkship over a lateral candidate. At that, there would be young people lined up for my job, eager to be part of the "family," and understandably so in a market that has long forgotten what it means to negotiate terms of employment. I cannot move laterally even if I take the pay cut, because it's not just the discount price employers are after. They want a newly beholden member of the "family."

That's the reality for most American workers: employers expecting commitment and performance akin to indentured servitude from people who work cheap because they know they're easily replaceable for less.

So when I see pay raises of the kind that Governor McKee is proposing, supposedly for the purpose of recruitment and retention, I am outraged. In this New England market, there are plenty of bright, talented people right out of university, law and graduate school, some of them my former students, who are eager to test their skills in public leadership. The present $135,000 pay, double the average state salary, would be a dream offer.

That's not to say, of course, that I wouldn't rather see the market treat people fairly and reward talent and experience. I would rather that everyone in the workforce had pension security, not just public sector workers regardless of merit, willing to commit to one job and place for 20 years; that everyone had access to high-quality healthcare, not just people who let an employer walk all over them because they're afraid of dying from a recurred cancer if they change insurers; and that everyone would have the opportunity to earn a living wage in fewer than 40 hours per week.

But that's not our world. Well, not our country. So in the meantime, I don't care to see public-sector leaders privileged by terms of employment they are unable or unwilling to establish for the rest of us.

McKee's Republican opponent accused him of buying votes. I'm not sure that's true. There aren't enough state department heads to turn an election, and I doubt they have that much sway behind the curtain over the voters who work for them. 

I think it more likely that McKee has calculated that in the present political climate, his reelection as a Rhode Island Democrat is effectively a done deal. So he has the political capital to spend to shore up loyalty in an executive branch that he claimed this term by succession rather than election. (Independents such as me are barred from primary voting in Rhode Island, so I've had no say yet.)

Either way, raises for already well compensated state leaders will be an insult to taxpayers.

Shoe on other foot as US claims sovereign immunity in foreign court for firing Malaysian embassy worker

The U.S. Embassy in KL commemorates flight MH17 in 2014.
(Embassy photo, public domain, via Flickr)

Malaysian courts have been wrestling with the big bear of foreign sovereign immunity in an ursa minor case arising from the dismissal of a security guard from the U.S. Embassy in Kuala Lumpur.

As a torts and comparative law teacher, I'm interested in how courts manage foreign sovereign immunity. But most of the cases I read are about foreign-state respondents in U.S. courts. I suppose the inverse, the United States as respondent in a foreign court, happens often. But it doesn't often make my newsfeed.

Well, this story did. The shoe is on the other foot with the United States seeking to evade the hearing of an employment grievance in Malaysian courts.

Consistently with international norms, in the United States, the Foreign Sovereign Immunities Act (FSIA) (on this blog) generally codifies sovereign immunity for foreign states in U.S. courts. But an exception pertains for "commercial activity." 

The commercial exception, also consistent with international norms, only makes sense. When a foreign country is acting like any other commercial actor, say, buying toilet paper for the mission restroom, it should not be able to claim sovereign immunity to override its obligation to pay for the toilet paper (contract), nor to escape liability for its fraud in the transaction (tort). Sovereign immunity is rather reserved for when a state acts as a state, doing things only states can do, such as signing treaties and, however unfortunately, waging war—usually.

The exception is easier understood in the abstract than in application. In a case bouncing around the Second Circuit, and reaching the U.S. Supreme Court in 2018 on a related but different question, Chinese vitamin makers claim immunity from U.S. antitrust law. The respondent makers say that they are agents of the Chinese state insofar as they are compelled by Chinese economic regulations to fix prices. U.S. competitors see the cut-rate pricing as none other than anti-competitive commercial activity. The question arises under trade treaty, but the problem is analogous to the FSIA distinction.

Also regarding China, the commercial activity exception was one of the ways that state lawsuits against the People's Republic over the coronavirus pandemic tried to thread the needle on sovereign immunity. In the lawsuit filed in 2020 by the State of Missouri against the PRC filed in 2020, the Missouri Attorney General characterized the Chinese lab in Wuhan as a commercial healthcare enterprise. The district court disagreed in July, and the AG is appealing.

In the Malaysian case, according to the allegations, the U.S. Embassy gave no reason when it terminated a security guard in 2008 after about a decade's service. The security guard probably would not be owed any explanation under U.S. law. But the Malaysian Industrial Relations Act is not so permissive, authorizing complaints to the labor authority upon dismissal "without just cause or excuse."

The opinion of the Malaysian Court of Appeal in the case hints at some bad blood in the workplace and a bad taste left in the mouth of the dismissed guard: "He said he had been victimised by another staff named Rama who had tried to tarnish his good record as he had raised the matter of unreasonable management of the security post.... He said he could not believe that the US Embassy that is recognised the world over as the champion of human rights could have done this to a security guard like him."

Inexplicably, "a long languishing silence lasting some 10 years" followed the administrative complaint, the Court of Appeal observed. "Nobody involved and interested in this case heard anything from anyone. It is always difficult to interpret silence. That silence was broken with a letter from the DGIR [labor authority] calling for a conciliation meeting [in] September 2018.... There was no settlement reached.

"Unbeknown to the workman, the Embassy had [in] March 2019 sent a representation to the DGIR arguing that sovereign immunity applied and that the matter should not be referred at all to the Industrial Court." The United States thereafter succeeded in having the case removed to the Malaysian high court, a general-jurisdiction trial court.

The high court dismissed the case on grounds of U.S. foreign sovereign immunity. The Court of Appeal reversed, holding that the case should not have been removed. The Court of Appeal remanded to the Industrial Court, a specialized labor court, to take evidence on the immunity question. The Malaysian Federal Court recently affirmed the remand, lawyers of Gan Partnership in Kuala Lumpur have reported (Lexology subscription).

Like the FSIA, Malaysian law on foreign sovereign immunity distinguishes commercial activity, jure gestionis, from state action, jure imperii. The dismissed guard argues that his was a simple employment contract, so the United States was acting in a commercial capacity and is not entitled to sovereign immunity. The United States argues that the security of its embassy is a diplomatic matter entitled to the exercise of sovereign discretion.

The case in the Court of Appeal was Letchimanan v. United States (May 18, 2021). Gan Khong Aik and Lee (Ashley) Sze Ching reported the Federal Court affirmance to the International Law Section of the American Bar Association for Lexology on August 30 (subscription). Khong Aik and Sze Ching wrote about the Court of Appeal decision, United States v. Menteri Sumber Manusia (Minister of Human Resources) Malaysia, in July 2021 (Lexology subscription), and with Foo Yuen Wah, they wrote about the high court decision in August 2020 (Lexology subscription).

As America, France share Enlightenment roots, why have worker rights so diverged? Or have they?

Thomas D. Aaron Wazlavek, Esq. has published an article in comparative labor law: The Pond Separates Cultures but Not Values: A Comparative Look at the French Codification of Right to Withdrawal of Labor and the American Concept of At-Will Employment.  The article appears in the Florida Journal of International Law at the University of Florida Levin College of Law.  Here is the abstract:

The differences and similarities between the United States common law concept of “right to work” and the modern development in France of the right to withdraw labor following the “Yellow Vest” movement in 2018 demonstrate a parallel diminution of workers’ rights. These changes are motivated by the same values inherent within capitalism that are superimposed through the law. This Article analyzes the social and legal contexts in both countries that demonstrate that the superimposition of these values through law is a continuing modern western trend. The key difference is that while the French model is designed to decrease the pressure for strike actions by workers, it also serves as a protection to workers as compared with the American model which exists as a tool to remove workplace protections by substantially altering the terms and conditions of employment. Further, this Article demonstrates that these concepts are both divergent and convergent in terms of core shared values and the peripheral aspect of laws setting cultural norms. This Article then concludes through comparative analysis that while the French right to withdraw labor is a product of legislative supremacy, and the American view within the common law is that at-will employment is the standard, the French model is a product of generations of social negotiations. The American model is a product of the easily swayed influences within the common law that allow a new legal theory with little to no precedential value at the time of its proposal to be adopted in sweeping fashion with very little civil discourse.

An attorney living and working in Rhode Island, Wazlavek (blog, LinkedIn, Twitter) presently serves as a contract coordinator for Teamsters Local 251.  It's not uncommon to see him on a Rhode Island street corner alongside sign-wielding workers.  He had already a wealth of experience in the labor movement before he went to law school.  He taught me a great deal about organized labor—its value when it works the way it's supposed to—and I was able to contribute torts and comparatism to his impressive repertoire.

The Pond started as a paper in Comparative Law, co-taught by an embedded librarian, the esteemed Dean Peltz-Steele, and me and tracks one of many remarkable parallels in the cultural evolution of the United States and the French Republic.  Just yesterday I read Rachel Donadio's fascinating treatment of secularism, or laïcité, in The Atlantic.  Observing the shared roots of the French principle with American anti-establishment doctrine, Donadio observed:

The histories of few countries are as deeply intertwined as those of France and the United States. Both nations are products of the Enlightenment, and each sees itself as a beacon among nations. Both embody a clear separation of Church and state. In the United States, the separation is defined by the establishment clause of the First Amendment, which prohibits the government from making any law "respecting an establishment of religion" or obstructing the free exercise of religion. The First Amendment was inspired by the earlier Virginia Statute of Religious Freedom, adopted in 1786, the work of Thomas Jefferson. Jefferson was ambassador to France when the French Revolution began, and the Marquis de Lafayette consulted him when drafting the revolutionary Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen, passed in 1789. Article 10 of that document states, "No one may be disquieted for his opinions, even religious ones, provided that their manifestation does not trouble the public order."

A shared legacy on labor regulation might not be traced so easily to the 18th century, but I would contend that American and French thinking about work and life is plenty in common.  Wazlavek maps that common cultural territory, and the article examines the social and economic forces that have prompted divergence, largely to the hazard of the American worker, and yet some recent convergence that prompted the Yellow Vest movement.

The article is Thomas D. Aaron Wazlavek, The Pond Separates Cultures But Not Values: A Comparative Look at the French Codification of Right to Withdrawal of Labor and the American Concept of At-Will Employment, 33 Fla. J. Int'l L. 75 (2021).

[UPDATE, Feb. 3, 2022:] Only two days after posting this item, I happened upon this compelling article as well: Stéphanie Hennette-Vauchez, Religious Neutrality, Laïcité and Colorblindness: A Comparative Analysis, 42 Cardozo L. Rev. 539 (2021).