Did Donald Trump go to prep school with Citizen Kane?

I just re-watched the masterpiece Citizen Kane (1941), and a line I'd never noticed before dropped my jaw.

I'm teaching a seminar on freedom of the press in film this semester with the superb new book by friends and colleagues, Helen J. Knowles-Gardner, Bruce E. Altschuler, and Brandon T. Metroka, Filming the First: Cinematic Portrayals of Freedom of the Press (2025). I wrote about the book here in 2024.

The second film featured in the book is the Orson Welles classic Citizen Kane. It raises for consideration a host of issues around the meaning of the First Amendment, whether as law or ideal, and the role of the press in a democracy. A key issue arises from the central character, Charlie Kane, a fictional analog to the real-life William Randolph Hearst.

Hearst was a media mogul in his time, the late 19th century and early 20th, a central figure in the yellow journalism era. Hearst and Kane alike prompt consideration of the very contemporary problem of media consolidation. My class considered data from a recent Roosevelt Institute report (inset), which described the economics of the news business over the course of American history, culminating in a deeply worrisome status quo.

Prof. Altschuler, who joined my class via Zoom for part of our discussion, wrote in the book that President Donald Trump has twice in interviews identified Citizen Kane as his favorite movie. As Prof. Altschuler remarked to my class, President Trump might not have gotten the message Welles intended.

Quoting an anecdote told by Ruth Warrick, the actress who played Kane's first wife in the movie, Prof. Altschuler reported, "Welles told the cast that the movie 'is about the kind of man that Americans tend to make their heroes, when actually they are the despoilers of their country.'"

I knew all of that, having just read up on the film in anticipation of re-watching it after decades. Yet I was caught off guard by something completely unexpected.

In the film, there is a scene (cued in video below) in which Kane is courting the woman who would become his second wife—the real-life Hearst separated from his wife, who would not grant him a divorce, and lived his later years with a second partner—and to amuse her, Kane, played by writer-director Orson Welles himself, wiggled his ears. 

Kane explained to his romantic interest: "It took me two solid years in the best boys' school in the world to learn that trick. The fellow who taught it to me is now the President of Venezuela" (USA Today).

Rescission of law dean offer prompts valid angst, but political ire over higher ed impunity is long time coming

Waterman Hall, University of Arkansas
Larry Miller via Flickr CC BY-NC 2.0

Legal academics is aflutter over the rescinding of an offer of the deanship at the law school of the University of Arkansas, Fayetteville, to Emily Suski, a law professor at the University of South Carolina, upon pressure from conservative politicians.

I've lately been cited and quoted on the matter, partly because I lived and worked as a law professor in Arkansas for thirteen and a half years, until 2011. I'll say a bit more here.

The Suski story has been much in the news, from The Arkansas Times to The New York Times, and has been framed by our present era of political strife. The rescission was motivated by conservative state lawmakers apparently unhappy over leftward leanings in Suski's record as an academic and a lawyer.

I am not opining, and have not opined, on the rescission in sum, because I don't know what was in the minds of lawmakers and the university president. I have made no study of the record. I said as much to Arkansas Democract-Gazette (ADG) reporter Neal Earley late last week. If you want a view from the ground, my colleague Robert Steinbuch, law professor and columnist, talked about the matter toward the end of this interview with KATV (cue to about 2:05).

I did tell the ADG, where I was fairly represented in a story Monday, to which Earley contributed, that I have First Amendment concerns if, and insofar as, the political decision was motivated by retaliation for viewpoints expressed in litigation or academic work. I agree with a statement of the president of the Arkansas Bar Association that a lawyer should not be discriminated against by a public entity for employment based on positions taken in prior litigation.

But the matter is not that straightforward.

Some Arkansas politicians are vexed by Suski's sign-on to an amicus brief in the SCOTUS-bound transgender athlete case, on the side of the athlete challenging West Virginia law. Some might be displeased with her support for the U.S. Supreme Court nomination of now-Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson. A single, clear rationale for rescinding has not been articulated, and likely, motivations are varied.

I have authored, contributed to, and signed amicus briefs myself, I told Earley, in support of principles notwithstanding the position of litigants. For example, my amicus positions on the freedom of information have aligned me with affirmative action skeptics and animal rights activists. Whether, or to what extent, I agreed with the litigants' many public positions was immaterial to my advocacy for transparency, accountability, or civil liberties in the matters at hand.

I'm not shy with my opinions. But if you want them, the responsible thing is to ask, not assume. The world is gray. My own views have nuance. I'm sure Suski's do too.

At the same time, this story ought not be framed merely in terms of contemporary partisanship. I told the ADG that I understand lawmakers' reaction in "a broader context of long-time suppression of (the conservative) viewpoint in legal academics."

That's true. Earley asked for examples, and I gave him several. I've done work with the Federalist Society and with the Heritage Foundation. I supported law students at the University of Massachusetts Law School in establishing a Christian Legal Society (as yet not an official chapter).

That doesn't mean I agree with every position taken by those organizations. (I'm not alone.) It does mean that I have over the years left those groups off my CV when applying for this or that in legal academics, because their mention would have killed my application. At the same time, I have never felt compelled in legal academics to conceal association with the AAUP or the ACLU. Those alignments are badges of achievement.

I didn't make the rules, and I don't approve of them. This is the world as I found it. Having had some privileges and not others while trying to advance my academic career, I have not buried my head in the sand about unjustified biases. For legal academics now to be wringing their hands over censorship of left-leaning causes might be justified in the instant case, but implicates more than a little hypocrisy.

One quote of mine in the ADG story was right, but could benefit from context: "I feel almost a bit of relief to say that thank heavens someone is paying attention." That sounds, erroneously, like approval of the politics of the Arkansas legislators in the Suski case, contrary to my refusal only a sentence earlier in the story to state approval or disapproval.

Rather, I made that statement in discussion with Earley of a different point, namely, that legislators in Arkansas, in other states, and in Washington, D.C., have abdicated their responsibility for the accountability of public institutions, especially in higher education. Regardless of the merits of the decision in Arkansas, the idea is refreshing that Arkansas legislators would hold the University of Arkansas to any standard at all. 

In my experience in Arkansas, the university, a political behemoth, did not hesitate to throw its weight around at the capitol. And legislators kowtowed to its will. For example, legislators, with few noteworthy exceptions, happily parrot the fiction that the filthy-rich university foundation is a private entity properly immune from the state freedom of information act, though in fact, public officials dictate how the money is spent.

When I spoke to Earley, I was not thinking about Arkansas legislative accountability in any matter of my personal interest. But maybe I should have been.

For The Arkansas Times blog, Dr. Walter Kimbrough opened an opinion piece with reference to a lawsuit I brought almost 20 years ago when working in Arkansas. Kimbrough is a former president of two HBCUs and now an executive vice president of the UNCF (the "United Negro College Fund," though the organization usually uses just its initials nowadays). 

I'm flattered that Kimbrough, whom I greatly respect, remembers my case, the best account of which was penned by the great Scott Jaschik, who retired in 2023, and can be read still at Inside Higher Ed.

Kimbrough's headline highlights the "cancel culture" angle in the Suski story. Invocation of my case shows that what happened to Suski is not new, because it happened to me—even if the shoe was on the other foot, from a conventional political perspective.

At least my takeaway from Kimbrough's comparison is be careful what tactics you use, because it won't feel good when they're turned against you. If abstracted to politics, it's basically the same logic justifying humane treatment of war prisoners, not because you're worried about the enemy, but because you're worried about your own. Regardless of who fired first, conservatives who once lamented the victimization of cancel culture now look hypocritical when they engage in it.

Not necessary to his thesis (and maybe undercutting it?), but salient to me, Kimbrough observed that no Arkansas legislator cared to intervene when I was "canceled." Don't I know it. The same can be said for organizations from the AAUP and ACLU to FIRE and the National Association of Scholars. Crickets for an embattled professor in flyover country. Again, this is not what I was thinking about when I talked with Earley, but it does bolster my point about accountability.

Kimbrough mentioned that I dropped that Arkansas lawsuit. He might have added that I received, as Jaschik reported (same article), a complete exoneration of any wrongdoing by the law school in Little Rock—which is what I had asked for all along.

Some people have asked me privately, don't I feel bad for Emily Suski?

Of course I do. Everyone should. She was a victim in all of this. Yes, the law school's offer letter did say the offer was contingent on university approval. But offer letters contain all kinds of boilerplate qualifiers. For all intents and purposes, Suski was instructed, publicly, to pack her bags. And then she had the rug pulled out from under her.

But while we feel bad for her, let's also place blame where it belongs. That's not just with politically motivated legislators, but with leaders in public academic institutions, who have long acted with impunity, abusing legislative deference and elevating their own agendas and preferences above their responsibility to the taxpayer.

'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.

 

 

Gutting consumer protection is not libertarian

The Trump administration is gutting consumer protection upon a policy at odds with market freedom.

Moves such as the dismantling of the Consumer Finance Protection Bureau (CFPB), OK'd by the courts three weeks ago, are rationalized by libertarians as market efficiency measures. Yet even as an economic conservative myself, I have trouble seeing how predatory lending, hidden fees and terms, and unfair competition—all of which the CFPB combated—facilitate a level marketplace. 

Free market theory depends on a series of preconditions, including a free flow of information between buyer and seller. Misrepresentation unlevels the playing field, undermining the freedom of the market actor who is deceived. Knee-jerk libertarian absolutists are shilling either ignorantly or willfully for corporatocrats, ironically at the expense of individual economic liberty.

Late last week the administration abandoned rule-making on modest compensation for airline passengers upon the delays and cancellations that have become our everyday experience in air travel in America. I wrote about the EU compensation system in 2023. That system has now turned 20, while the United States becomes ever more an outlier for its passionate embrace of oligopoly and disdain for consumers. Well, we have Russia to keep us company.

Soon, my 1L Torts students will reach our study of express assumption of risk as a liability defense. They will learn how profoundly permissive are American courts of binding boilerplate, notwithstanding any realistic showing of assent, much less understanding, on the part of consumers. (More.) Solutions to this problem have been theorized capably by scholars for more than a decade, yet policy makers, even constitutional originalists supposedly committed to express liberties such as the Seventh Amendment right to a jury trial, show no serious interest in reform.

Given the futility of the consumer's plight, I got a laugh out of an on-screen notice my television recently delivered from HBO Max. 

"Your continued subscription to and/or use of HBO Max confirms that you have"—the text started, before hitting the end of the screen.

"OK" was the only permitted response.

I could have shut down my Roku and walked away. 

I didn't. I agreed and continued.

What's an immortal soul when Peacemaker season 2 beckons?

Law students Costa, Osuagwu talk first 100 days

Costa & Osuagwu (WGBH)

Thrilled to see two of my star 1Ls/rising 2Ls, Cameron Costa and BJ Osuagwu, just finishing Torts II, representing and holding their own in this political dialog on WGBH (below from YouTube).

From GBH News: "The Trump administration hit 100 days of its second term marked by economic volatility, aggressive immigration enforcement and tariff talk.  Is the country headed in the right direction? We asked two people who support Trump and two people who don't on Politics IRL."

Costa is an educator and a student of legislative advocacy. Osuagwu is executive director of Healthy Waltham.

Buzz surrounds Bobi Wine: docko, presidential rerun

Bobi Wine: Presidential material?
VOA public domain photo via Wikimedia Commons

Podcast Snap Judgment talked to director Moses Bwayo in March about his Bobi Wine documentary, the first ever Oscar nominated film from Uganda, and Bobi Wine will run again for president of the East African nation.

I wrote in February 2024 about Bobi Wine: The People's President (2022) (IMDb) and Brooke Gladstone's interview with Wine and Bwayo for WNYC's On the Media. According to Snap Judgment, the documentary "received a ten minute standing ovation at its premier[e] at the Venice film festival." The film is being distributed by National Geographic and is streaming on platforms including Disney+.

Last week, Wine said he will run again for the presidency in Uganda in the quinquennial election in January 2026, and he believes that the Ugandan youth vote can push him to victory. "We cannot just give the election to General Museveni," Wine told The Guardian.

For a time it was thought that the six-term hegemony of President Yoweri Museveni would transfer to his son, General Muhoozi Kainerugaba. But Kainerugaba dropped out of the race late last year and endorsed his father—not a given (VOA). Museveni will turn 81 in September.

USAID cuts meanwhile have hit the Ugandan LGBTQ community hard. Museveni has been "intensifying [a] crackdown," The New York Times reported, since 2023 passage of laws threatening life imprisonment for same-sex relations; up to 10 years for attempt; and the death penalty for same-sex relations with minors or disabled persons. The Times explained:

The United States provides more than $970 million annually in development as well as humanitarian and security assistance to Uganda. In 2023, about $440 million was spent on health programs, followed by emergency relief, agriculture and education services, according to U.S. government data.

For years, the United States supported L.G.B.T.Q. groups in Uganda through U.S.A.I.D.-funded initiatives, offering H.I.V. treatment, legal training and resources for activism. Previous U.S. governments also condemned human rights violations against gay Ugandans, imposing trade and travel restrictions in response.

Oddly enough, Kainerugaba urged the Trump administration to restore aid for HIV treatment, according to the Times. Kainerugaba, who commands the military, had threatened Wine on social media. Wine himself has had a controverted record on LGBTQ rights.

Government used soccer tattoo, 'rock'n'roll salute' as evidence against Venezuelan deportee, lawyer asserts

According to his lawyer, a tattoo and a hand gesture are the sum of evidence against at least one Venezuelan man who was deported to the El Salvadoran gang prison among what the federal government has called "the worst of the worst."

Left: Real Madrid logo; right: artist conception.
Left: © Real Madrid CF, adapted in part by Coloring Pages for Toddlers;
here fair use. Right: Same crown with free clip art ball and Word lettering;
RJ Peltz-Steele CC0 with no claim to underlying works.

The face-off between the Trump administration and U.S. District Chief Judge James E. Boasberg over deportations has stoked strong suspicion that the enforcement action swept up men who pose no threat to the peace, have legitimate claims to refugee status, and now have been condemned wrongfully to imprisonment in El Salvador, a country foreign to them and their families.

The suspicion is not easily vindicated because the men are gone from the United States and inaccessible in El Salvador, and the evidence against them is secreted in the hands of the federal government. Yet one by one, stories are emerging that cast doubt on the official narrative. 

Immigration attorney Linette Tobin, a member of the D.C. Bar, has been making the media rounds to tell the story of one client, Jerce Reyes Barrios. Tobin told outlets, including NPR, that she has seen the evidence against Reyes Barrios (family photo via ABC News), and it comprises nothing other than a tattoo and social media images of a hand gesture, both with innocent explanations. 

Left: Horned hand. RJ Peltz-Steele with Google Gemini CC0
Right: ASL "I Love You." LiliCharlie via Wikimedia CC BY-SA 4.0

According to Tobin, Reyes Barrios is a 36-year-old professional soccer player and father of two who has a tattoo unrelated to any gang other than Spain's very legitimate and globally popular Real Madrid Club de Fútbol (RMCF). A variation on the RMCF logo, the tattoo pictures a crown atop a soccer ball and the word "Dios" (God), Tobin said.

The hand gesture pictured in social media, according to Tobin, is the "rock and roll salute." That gesture, known more widely as "the horned hand," became associated with heavy metal in the 1970s (more at Medium), then came into wider use in music culture. The gesture is sometimes interchanged, knowingly or unknowingly, with the ASL sign for "I love you" (literally, the letters I, L, and Y), which is similar but requires an extended thumb.

Tattoos imaged in 2024 Texas DPS presentation include these.
Public document; no indicated copyright notice.

Circulating online, a 2024 presentation by the Texas Department of Public Safety on the Venezuelan gang Tren de Aragua (more from NPR), to which the federal government alleges Reyes Barrios and other deportees belong, depicts tattoos borne by gang members. While some of the tattoos might be indicative of Tren de Aragua—images of trains, for example—most are not so specific, e.g., a rose, a clock, a star.  (More from NBC News.) Tren means "train," and Aragua is a Venezuelan state west of Caracas.

Also among the imaged tattoos are a crown, similar to the Real Madrid CF logo; the Nike "jumpman logo" with Michael Jordan's and LeBron James's number "23"; and the initials "HJ," said to abbreviate hijos (sons), under a crown ("king of kings"), meaning "sons of God." While gang members might bear such tattoos, they're hardly a way to determine gang affiliation.

In fact, of two of my own tattoos, one is a train—not because of criminal affiliation. Another is a variation on a cross that might suggest a football club or a historical war campaign, neither of which I'm championing. So I find this evidence against Reyes Barrios unsettling, especially insofar as it might be exemplary of the government's shallow scrutiny in countless other cases, too. 

I can only assume that when Tobin joined the D.C. Bar, she was admonished as strongly as I was never to lie. So I'm inclined to believe her, and thus to share Judge Boasberg's skepticism.

Update, Mar. 31, at 3 p.m.: Too late for Reyes Barrios and others, but I learned today that on Friday, the federal district court in Massachusetts granted a temporary restraining order against the removal of immigrants to unrelated third countries without due process, that is, notice and "meaningful" opportunity to raise safety concerns. The case is D.V.D. v. U.S. DHS (filed D. Mass. Mar. 25, 2025) (Court Listener).

Rule of law seems absent, western powers impassive, as civil war inflicts horrific suffering in Sudan

I know it's hipster hot right now to be up in arms over Gaza and lukewarm over Ukraine. I'd like for a moment to set aside both those conflicts and ask for your consideration of Sudan.

I've written previously about Sudan, from the time of development optimism that was dashed and broken by catastrophic civil war. I was enamored of the country and its people upon visiting there in 2020, and I watched the war unfold with profound sadness.

The war in Sudan rages on, so long since its April 2023 eruption that even I back-burnered it among my conscious anxieties in recent months. It was brought to the front again when I read a Friday story from NPR: Why Sudan Is Being Called a "Humanitarian Desert," by Fatma Tanis.

The story relates a report from Doctors Without Borders: "The report states that bombing and shelling of civilian areas killed thousands of people, including women and children. Civilians were consistently attacked and killed by armed groups in their own homes, at checkpoints, along displacement routes and even in hospitals and clinics."

Horrifyingly, "'a characteristic feature' of the war, the report states ... that women and girls were raped in their homes and along displacement routes. Of 135 survivors of sexual violence who were interviewed by MSF, 40% said they were assaulted by multiple attackers."

Democrats and (too many) Republicans disagree over support of Ukraine. The Republican platform specifically references Israel, and Ukraine's omission is contentiously purposive. The draft Democrat platform for 2024 mentions Israel, Ukraine, and Sudan. American involvement in the latter context looks limited to the present "Special Envoy," charged with making peace, along with a more nebulous commitment to support Africa in solving its own problems. 

I'm reminded of an exercise in university journalism class in which we examined the newspaper column-inches (these were the days of actual newspapers) afforded to global crisis reporting to witness the greater-than-linear, inverse relationship with distance from the United States. Yet, as one might have noted then, too, Khartoum is not that much farther from Washington than Tel Aviv and Kyiv.

Is our commitment to the people of Sudan sufficient? I don't purport to know what the policy of "the most developed nations" should be concerning civil war in Sudan. I do worry that prioritizing international conflicts based on strategic imperatives while paying little more than lip service to our values sends the wrong message to aggressors in a world in which nations, including the United States, are ever more inextricably interdependent.

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

ABA adopts academic freedom standard, but 'Crossroads' convo shows, not everybody gets it

Is the American Bar Association (ABA) "Doing Enough to Promote Viewpoint Diversity?," panelists were asked at the ABA Midyear Meeting in Louisville, Ky., on February 3.

No, I say emphatically. So I was pleased that my take was represented on the panel by Kentucky attorney Philip D. Williamson and South Texas College of Law Professor Josh Blackman.

Having made a quantitative assessment of 10 years of ABA amicus briefs in the U.S. Supreme Court, Williamson listed positions to which the ABA has committed itself. The ABA has taken positions, such as on Roe and Dobbs, that are not related to the practice of law or legal professionalism, and about which there is rational disagreement among lawyers. 

ABA briefs also take "diametrically opposed" positions, Williamson said: favoring stare decisis in Dobbs, but disfavoring it on juror unanimity; favoring state power in a Republican administration, favoring federal power in a Democrat administration; regarding tribal classifications as political rather than racial, and then, under the Trump travel ban, arguing nationality classifications as racial rather than political. One might ask, Williamson posited, "Why does the ABA care about this at all?"

The only common thread in ABA positions, Williamson said, is consistency with liberal politics. Would right-of-center lawyers feel welcome in the ABA?, Williamson asked. "No." There might be one amicus in the pile that aligned with a red-state attorney general, Williamson said, but it's "hard to find."

Williamson also criticized ABA policy on racial classifications as hypocritical. Until recently, the ABA had numerical quotas based on race in composing panels for continuing legal education (CLE) programs. The ABA backed down when the Florida Bar resisted awarding CLE credits upon a policy it viewed as unconstitutionally racially discriminatory.

Williamson observed that for ABA diversity purposes, "Asian" regards a Bangladeshi person and a Chinese person as "interchangeable." "Maybe we could fine tune how we think about race," Williamson said, "rather than how fast you sunburn in Miami." You won't read that in the ABA coverage of the event.

Williamson, Thomas, Blackman, and Rosenblum
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

Chicago attorney Juan R. Thomas said he welcomes viewpoint diversity, subject to one condition: He paraphrased James Baldwin: "We can disagree and still love each other unless your disagreement is rooted in my oppression and denial of my humanity and right to exist." (The quote is widely attributed to Baldwin, but I cannot find an original source.)

We can debate which Super Bowl team is the better, Thomas said, but not whether they play football.

I admire Thomas quite a bit, and the Baldwin quote is a self-evident truth. But it's also a red herring.

Blackman asked in response—also omitted from the ABA coverage—"if I can't oppose qualified immunity because it's not grounded in the Fourteenth Amendment, that makes me a racist?"

Thomas, who is a minister besides lawyer, also voiced a "dirty secret," that "not all people of color are progressives." He should have directed the observation to the ABA, not to his co-panelist adversaries. Their very point was that the ABA should be wary of taking politically charged positions over which reasonable, informed people disagree.

To Thomas's point, a lawyer commenting from the audience said something that resonated with me: that he personally opposes lawmakers making abortion decisions for women, but he believes that Roe was wrongly decided as a matter of federalism. That's the unpopular conclusion that I, too, came to, many years ago. I refrain from voicing it in the liberal circles of academia.

My position on affirmative action is similar. I champion socioeconomic equality and fully acknowledge systemic racism, but I so abhor government classification based on race that I cannot countenance official discrimination as a purported redress of discrimination. I rather would redress systemic inequalities through socioeconomic amelioration.

I said as much once out loud, and the r-word charges upended my life and career. An ABA accreditation site team at the time was fully informed of the matter and brushed it under the rug. One rocks the boat at one's hazard at an ABA-compliant school.

Which brings me to an interesting point and an occasion for the ABA discussion: At the time of the caucus meeting, the ABA had just signed off on new legal education Standard 208, which requires ABA-accredited law schools, such as the one where I work, to "adopt, publish, and adhere to written policies that protect academic freedom."

That only took 70 years since the Second Red Scare.

I'm keen to see whether the ABA really will follow through. ABA accreditation of law schools is nothing but a pricey protection racket. Entry costs are steep to join the club, but once you're in, you can do no wrong—almost: woe to the unfortunate straggler left to hang in the wind to prove the legitimacy of the system. The ABA is terrified of losing its monopoly power over legal education, as it did over judicial confirmation.

The kicker-quote in the ABA's own coverage of the caucus program does not induce confidence: "'I would be proud to be the last member standing of an association that fights against oppression,' [attorney and author Lauren Stiller Rikleen] stated."

Right, because that's what this is about. Standing for equality and rule of law makes me pro oppression.

The ABA Midyear panel on "Are the ABA and the Legal Profession Doing Enough to Promote Viewpoint Diversity?" comprised Williamson, Blackman, Thomas, and Oregon Attorney General Ellen F. Rosenblum. Senior U.S. Sixth Circuit Judge Danny J. Boggs moderated.

Frum invokes Judge Learned Hand on self-doubt to build case for 'uncanceling' Woodrow Wilson

Woodrow Wilson, 1912
Library of Congress

In the March Atlantic David Frum pleaded for the "uncanceling" of Woodrow Wilson and gave a shout out to the great Judge Learned Hand.

Frum exhibited his usual eloquence in pleading for understanding that people are complicated and we ought not throw out the baby with the bathwater. Wilsonianism has guided American foreign policy for a century and has done a lot of good in the world, Frum argued persuasively. One cannot pretend away that legacy in an eagerness to embrace the admittedly ample evidence of Wilson's racism and bigotry.

We ought be wary as well, Frum observed, that right and left both are eager to "cancel" Wilson. The left for his racism, of course. The anti-regulatory right, meanwhile, sees Wilson as a forefather of both globalism and the administrative state. Besides his vision for what would become the United Nations, Wilson signed the Federal Trade Commission Act into law in 1914. With the Chevron doctrine presently withering in the Supreme Court, lefties, be careful what you're canceling.

An aside on the subject of left and right: The Economist published a fabulous opinion piece last week that's a balm for classical liberals such as myself who have been rendered ideologically homeless by the ironic Republican embrace of "the state [as] savior." (Every American libertarian, by which I mean most Americans, should read it, so it's unfortunate that it's paywalled.)

In the course of his reasoned plea, Frum further observed:

We live now in a more polarized time [than Wilson's], one of ideological extremes on both left and right. Learned Hand, a celebrated federal judge of Wilson’s era, praised "the spirit which is not too sure that it is right." Our contemporaries have exorcised that spirit. We are very sure that we are right. We have little tolerance for anyone who seems in any degree wrong.

Hear, hear. The line comes from Hand's famous "Spirit of Liberty" speech in 1944. Read more at Judicature.

Torts students know Learned Hand for his also famous formula to describe rational choice as a weighing of burdens against the risk of loss. Hand was prolific, and his subtle influences can be traced through many fields of American law in the 20th century. Indeed, see The Atlantic in 1961.

Just yesterday, as it happens, I was talking after class with a 1L Torts student about the imperative that legal education empower a student to challenge one's own assumptions. I know what you're thinking, but it was she who made the point. "We should question ourselves," she said. "We should never stop questioning."

Wise woman.

Speaking of wise women, hat tip @ my wife for spying The Economist item.

Incidentally, the cover story of the March Atlantic concerns police response to mass shooting events, focusing on, but definitely not limited to, the Deputy Scot Peterson matter at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida. In June 2023, Peterson was acquitted on all charges after a trial in which authorities alleged felony child neglect and criminal negligence. In January 2024, a Florida court denied a defense motion to dismiss civil suits by 17 families against Peterson, clearing the matter for trial.

Frum's article is Uncancel Woodrow Wilson, The Atlantic, Mar. 2024 (online Feb. 2, 2024) (subscription).

'Gripping' Ugandan documentary makes Oscar cut

Uganda has its first ever Oscar-nominated film, a documentary about political persecution and daring resistance to the Museveni regime.

Bobi Wine: The People's President tells the story of musician Bobi Wine's transition from pop culture to political activist running for the presidency of Uganda against entrenched incumbent Yoweri Museveni. En route, Wine is arrested many times, brutally beaten, and effectively exiled from his homeland.

Here is the trailer.

For On the Media, Brooke Gladstone has a compelling interview with Wine himself and director Moses Bwayo.

In following Bobi Wine for the film, the film crew was itself in peril. If behind the scenes was as breathtaking as Bwayo described, I can't imagine how unnerving the end product must be. Wine briefly spoke on OTM of his torture by Ugandan authorities, and it's not easy to hear, before he himself stopped and said he could not talk it about it more.

It happens that my all-time favorite documentary to date is Call Me Kuchu (2012), which deals with the detestable persecution of the LGBTQ community in Uganda. Call Me Kuchu is hard to watch, but I come away from it every time thinking it should be required viewing for humanity: a lesson in immorality, the horror that results when the great commandment of Matthew 22:39 is disregarded. 

I note that it's not clear Wine himself, for all his persecution, quite gets the takeaway on the LGBTQ question. But he might have come around, and he's probably right that the Museveni regime leverages past transgressions against him.

Anyway, I am keen to see Bobi Wine, which is streaming in the United States on Hulu and Disney+, where the film is touted as "gripping." Fortunately, the film can be seen in Africa and even has been screened in Uganda. Wine told OTM that National Geographic has made the film available for streaming throughout the continent.

Shockingly, Wine told OTM that he is intent on returning to Uganda. Much as I would like to see change for Uganda—I've traveled there, and it's a magnificent country—I hope Wine takes to heart the lesson of Alexei Navalny and well considers his timing.

UPDATE, Mar. 4: I've since seen the film. Two thumbs up, and prayer for Uganda.

To combat corruption, India Supreme Court strikes down dark money system, cites U.S. precedents

Late last week, the Supreme Court of India struck a blow for transparency and accountability when it ruled unconstitutional a system of anonymous political donation.

In a 2017 law, India had adopted a system of "electoral bonds." These are not investment bonds. Rather, to make a political donation, a donor was required to buy a political bond from the State Bank of India, and the bank then gave the money to the indicated political candidate.

The bond system was adopted ostensibly to further transparency and accountability. By requiring all political donations to be processed by the state bank, regulators could ensure compliance with donor restrictions. The system was supposed, then, to balance donor anonymity—a legitimate extension of free speech rights—with anti-corruption regulation.

P.M. Narendra Modi speaks to Pres. Biden at the G20, 2022.

White House photo via Flickr

But as Darian Woods reported for The Indicator, the party in power of Prime Minister Narendra Modi received 90% of donations. It seems less likely that imbalance represented overwhelming enthusiasm for the Modi administration and much more likely that corporate donors sought favor with the administration and feared retaliation otherwise, despite their seeming anonymity. For while they were anonymous to the public, their identities were known to the state bank. And the state bank is under the control of the administration.

The India Supreme Court ruled that the electoral bond system is incompatible with the fundamental "right to know" (RTK), that is, with Indian norms of freedom of information (FOI). I wrote in 2017 about India's Right to Information Act (RTIA), a statutory instrument akin to the U.S. Freedom of Information Act (FOIA). FOI, or access to information (ATI), for India, though, is in sync with contemporary norms elsewhere in the world, notably Europe, where RTK or FOI is recognized as a human right. Courts such as the India Supreme Court, like the Court of Justice of the EU, therefore have the constitutional enforcement power of judicial review.

The India Supreme Court, as it often does on important constitutional questions, surveyed other common law nations. And despite our weak and non-textual recognition of FOI as a constitutional right, the United States earned several mentions. Saliently, the court cited the old stalwart, Buckley v Valeo (U.S. 1976), for "concern of quid pro quo arrangements and [the] dangers to a fair and effective government. Improper influence erodes and harms the confidence in the system of representative government." Disclosure, the India court reasoned,

helps and aides the voter in evaluating those contesting elections. It allows the voter to identify interests which candidates are most likely to be responsive to, thereby facilitating prediction of future performance in office. Secondly, it checks actual corruption and helps avoid the appearance of corruption by exposing large contributions and expenditures to the light of publicity. Relying upon Grosjean v. American Press Co. (U.S. 1936), [disclosure] holds that informed public opinion is the most potent of all restraints upon misgovernment. Thirdly, record keeping, reporting and disclosure are essential means of gathering data necessary to detect violations of contribution limitations.

For a more recent vintage, the India court cited Nixon v. Shrink Missouri Government PAC (U.S. 2000): 

[T]he Supreme Court of the United States observes that large contributions given to secure a political quid pro quo undermines the system of representative democracy. It stems public awareness of the opportunities for abuse inherent in a regime of large contributions. This effects the integrity of the electoral process not only in the form of corruption or quid pro quo arrangements, but also extending to the broader threat of the beneficiary being too compliant with the wishes of large contributors.

So the India court fairly observed that the U.S. Supreme Court has been willing to unmask donors, even if the Supreme Court has lately been less than enthusiastic about regulations it once, in a Buckley world, approved. Indeed, even as the U.S. Supreme Court rejected the disparate treatment of corporations in Citizens United v. FEC (U.S. 2010), it approved of disclosure requirements. 

The India court found support for disclosure in defense against corruption in other national regimes, too, for example, in Canada and Australia. Alas, there, comparisons with the United States deteriorate in practice. The India Supreme Court did not mention the dark (money) side to America's affair with transparency. Read more at the Brennan Center for Justice.

The case is Association for Democratic Reforms v. India (India Feb. 15, 2024).

'Statute of limitations is a very real thing in this country'

"The statute of limitations is a very real thing in this country," former President and Republican presidential front-runner Donald Trump told reporters Monday at the New York court where he faces civil fraud claims.

I say the same thing to my 1L class every fall. Finally, some authority to back me up.

Though I can't help but think that the former President is thinking of the E. Jean Carroll matter.  Carroll filed her defamation and battery claims against the former President under New York's Adult Survivors Act (ASA). The act temporarily suspended the statute of limitations for civil claims arising from alleged sexual abuse, allowing a year-long "look-back window." Carroll filed on the day the act took effect.

The ASA opened look-back to all of a complainant's adult life. The window will close on November 23, 2023. In 2019, New York extended the statute of limitations for adult survivor claims from three to 20 years, but the extension is not retroactive. The N.Y. Law Journal reported 67 ASA lawsuits filed by February 2023; according to Katz Banks Kumin, citing The Wall Street Journal, 106 suits had been filed by May 2023. Though in April 2023, The Appeal reported "nearly 1,000" claims under the ASA by incarcerated or formerly incarcerated women against corrections officers.

The ASA was enacted as a political response to the #MeToo movement and a pointed plank in the platform of New York's first female governor, Kathy Hochul. The ASA was modeled on the New York Child Victims Act of 2019, which was in significant part a response to abuse in the Catholic Church.

The Child Victims Act similarly extended the New York limitations period for child survivors' civil claims to a victim's age 55 and opened a look-back window, one year later extended to two, that expired in 2021. That allowance saw "almost 11,000 cases," according to the N.Y. Law Journal. Jeff Anderson has details and data. Child USA tracks such laws across the country.

Judge chides attorney for not wearing coat

An Arkansas Supreme Court justice earlier this month called out a professor-attorney for not wearing a coat in a Zoom argument.

Associate Justice Courtney Rae Hudson took to task attorney and Professor Robert Steinbuch, Arkansas Little Rock, my colleague and past co-author on freedom-of-information works (book, essay), first, for not wearing a coat over his button-down shirt in the Zoom argument on February 2, and then for not having asked advance permission to use a demonstrative exhibit. She had the court and counsel wait painfully while Steinbuch and his attorney-client fetched coats.

Steinbuch probably should've worn a coat. He told Justice Hudson he had not because it interfered with his handling of the exhibit, a statutory text, within the small space of the camera view. Good excuse, bad excuse; either way, Justice Hudson's handling of the matter was condescending and, coming as it did after Steinbuch's argument, felt more personal than professional. My impression as a viewer was that Hudson was the one who came off looking worse for the exchange.

Being an aggressive advocate for transparency and accountability in Arkansas, Steinbuch has many allies in mass media, and they were not as gentlemanly about what went down as Steinbuch was. The aptly named Snarky Media Report made a YouTube video highlighting the exchange.  As Snarky told it, "Justice Hudson pulled out her Karen Card." Snarky also observed, with captured image in evidence, that "[s]everal times during the hearing Hudson appeared to be spitting into a cup."

More seriously, Snarky took the occasion to highlight past instances in which Hudson's ethics were called into question. Hudson (formerly Goodson), who was elected to the court in 2010, and her now ex-husband, a class action attorney, took two vacations abroad, valued together at $62,000, at the expense of Arkansas litigator W.H. Taylor (Legal Newsline). Hudson did report the gifts, and she said she would recuse from any case in which Taylor was involved.

Very well, but my suspicions of bias run a bit deeper. Hudson's vacation-mate ex, John Goodson, is chairman of the board of the University of Arkansas. (Correction, May 9, 2023: I'm told that Goodson ended his service on the board a year or so ago; I've not been able to ascertain the date.) One of Steinbuch's tireless transparency causes has been for Arkansas Freedom of Information Act access to the foundation funding of the university system in Arkansas, especially the flagship University of Arkansas, Fayetteville. Indeed, Steinbuch wrote just last week (and on January 29), in his weekly column for The Arkansas Democrat-Gazette, about that very issue in connection with secret spending at Arkansas State University. University System counsel have fought ferociously and successfully for decades to stop any lawsuit or legislative bill that would open foundation books to public scrutiny.

Goodson also has what the Democrat-Gazette characterized in 2019 as "deep political and legal connections around the state" with disgraced former state Senator Jeremy Hutchinson. Hutchinson is a nemesis of former Arkansas politician Dan Greenberg (a longtime friend of mine). After Greenberg lost the senate race to Hutchinson in 2010, Greenberg sued a local newspaper, alleging a deliberate campaign of misinformation. Steinbuch supported Greenberg in the suit. Though Greenberg was unable to demonstrate actual malice to the satisfaction of the courts, discovery in the suit revealed a problematically cozy relationship between the newspaper editor and Hutchinson.

The day after the oral argument in Steinbuch's case, Hutchinson was sentenced to 46 months in prison on federal charges of bribery and tax fraud—ironic, given that a false report of ethical misconduct was a rumor that Hutchinson had sewn about Greenberg in 2010. 

I don't know; maybe Justice Hudson just gets really hung up on men's attire.  She does hail from a conservative corner of Arkansas.

But a wise friend once told me, "Nothing in Arkansas happens for the reason you think it happens."

The case is Corbitt v. Pulaski County Jail, No. CV-22-204 (Ark. oral arg. Feb. 2, 2023).