Showing posts sorted by date for query boilerplate. Sort by relevance Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by date for query boilerplate. Sort by relevance Show all posts

Thursday, November 12, 2026

Negligence suit beats liability waiver at kids' gym

Stuck in the Middle, 2010
DieselDemon via Flickr CC BY 2.0
A liability waiver at a children's gym cannot block a negligence suit over a five-year-old's broken arm, the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court ruled earlier this week.

The ruling is straightforward and on point. What's surprising is that the high court's reversal was needed in the face a of a state law plainly nullifying gym waivers—and that the law exists, in contravention of American law's usual passion to enforce boilerplate.

Ava was five when she broke her arm falling off a beam at The Little Gym of West Boylston, west of Boston. It was Ava's second year at The Little Gym, part of a global network of recreational facilities "dedicated to helping kids build strength and confidence ... one cartwheel at a time." Ava's father had signed a standard waiver, or release—formally, an express assumption of risk—promising not to sue the gym for negligence if there were an accident, the court opinion recounted.

Alas, Massachusetts has a law that says, "No contract for health club services may contain any provisions whereby the buyer agrees not to assert against the seller ... of the health club services contract any claim or defense arising out of ... the buyer's activities at the health club."

Most of the statute is about consumer protection, limiting the shady contract practices for which gyms were once renowned and still are teased, such as excessively long membership terms and difficult-to-escape automatic renewals. Even the statutory provision here at issue focused on lawsuits about club contracts, before the legislature added the "buyer's activities" phrase in 1985.

The dispute resolved by the high court focused on whether The Little Gym, with its specialized focus on children and services structured in classes, is a "health club" within the meaning of the waiver ban. The statutory definition is broad, comprising businesses offering "instruction, training or assistance in the preservation, maintenance, encouragement or development of physical fitness, conditioning or well being." 

The definition then employs that loathsome legal-ese, "includ[ing], but not limited to," and lists a plethora of examples: "health spas, sports, tennis, racquet ball, platform tennis and health clubs, figure salons, health studios, gymnasiums, weight control centers or studios, martial arts and self-defense schools, or any other similar course of physical training."

"Including, but not limited to" is a safeguard against application of the interpretive canon, expressio unius est exclusio alterius, meaning the specification of some items suggests the intentional exclusion of others. I say "loathsome," because "including" is supposed to indicate non-exhaustiveness by definition. 

But lawyers will be lawyers. The Little Gym here tried to differentiate its market niche by pointing to dissimilarities from a conventional adult gym. The court had little difficulty illustrating the controlling commonality of The Little Gym's wellness mission. I was surprised that the lower court had been seduced by the gym's argument.

What surprised me most, though, is the existence of the waiver-nullifying statute. I teach torts in Massachusetts, and, I confess, I did not know about this law.

As it turns out, Massachusetts is not unique, but such laws are rare. A 2019 survey by Dalby Wyant found laws nullifying gym negligence waivers in five other states: Connecticut, Louisiana, Montana, New York, and Virginia. Elsewhere, some states have much more modest limitations, disallowing waiver for gross negligence or recklessness, for example, but allowing waiver for negligence. Poking around online, I found that bills to override gym waivers are popular rallying causes for legislators but rarely pass. Industry advocates such as the Health & Fitness Association research and track such legislation.

The statutory nullification of a waiver, especially one signed by and restricting recovery for an adult, cuts against the American ethos of freedom of contract. Despite consumer frustration with boilerplate, and despite the now-well-known impossibility of reading all of the clickwrap terms and conditions that attach to our every transaction, the overwhelming trend in American law is to favor enforceability. Inroads on the approach are few and far between, and as European-law-driven cookie-notice banners online demonstrate, enhancing the informedness of consumer acquiescence is easier said than done.

Though usually I'm quick to rush to the ramparts for consumers, I find appealing the enforceability of negligence waivers for gyms. The theory of the enforceability of such contracts regardless of subjective consumer understanding, and amid a dearth of market alternatives, is that the freedom to contract allows a business model to thrive without the burden of potential tort liability—if with the tandem drawback that some people will get hurt and have no recourse.

Me at Anytime Fitness, Hong Kong, 2026
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

I'm a member of Anytime Fitness (AF), and I get unabashedly giddy over the 24/7 business model. I can visit AF any time, any day, regardless of whether staff are present. After a long day, or a night class, I don't have to race to the gym before it closes, like I did at the YMCA. Moreover, I use AFs around the country and around the world. A midnight gym visit when my body hasn't adjusted to Hong Kong time can be just the thing.

I've signed a liability waiver at my local AF, in Rhode Island, which presumably controls at all locations—likely including Massachusetts, per choice of law conventions. Yet I've often wondered how AF can exist, legally, and get insurance. I try to imagine how the conversation went down when someone who owned a line of gyms went to general counsel and proposed opening 24/7 with no staff.

If I were counsel, I would have said, You must have lost your mind. Waiver or no waiver, you want to let ordinary, untrained people, the unwashed masses, just walk around with unfettered access to our heavy equipment that is designed specifically to strain their bodies to the breaking point, and with no supervision whatsoever? Ha. Haha. Hahaha. 

Now I find out that AFs operate even in states where those waivers might be nullified by statute. It's enough to make one suspect that what chambers of commerce bemoan as the unbearable weight of an out-of-control tort system is not actually stifling business in America. 

It ought be remembered, surviving a motion to dismiss is still a far cry from winning a negligence suit. At least based on the preliminary factual record as summarized by the court, I'm doubtful that Ava can show negligence by The Little Gym. It seems to me that a kid falling off a beam now and then, even landing the wrong way on an arm, is something that's going to happen at a kid's gym no matter how close the supervision. But we'll see. Ava's attorney lives to rush the ramparts for another day.

The case is Cross v. BeFree Enterprises (Mass. Nov. 10, 2026). Associate Justice Gabrielle R. Wolohojian wrote the unanimous opinion of the court.

See you at the gym. 

Saturday, September 5, 2026

Byzantine, needless procedures make it too hard for David to sue Goliath in R.I. small-claims court

RJ Peltz-Steele with Google Gemini CC0 1.0
A Savory Tort Investigation (Continued) 

Following up my eye-opening journey through the byzantine processes of small-claims filing, I wrote this week to my Rhode Island state legislators and to the state attorney general recommending some reforms.

To the legislators, I urged the following reforms to the small-claims court process.

  1. Filing should not cost a complainant the inconvenience and expense of notary service.
  2. Filing should not preclude a complainant from providing a valid service-of-process address for a respondent’s registered agent.
  3. Filing should not charge a complainant with the responsibility of generating for the respondent hardcopies of an answer form, instructions, and interpreter instructions in four languages, requiring a filing portfolio of 19 pages, plus a second copy, for a complaint of only one or two lines.
  4. Service of process to in-state defendants should not require of a complainant the inconvenience and expense of enlisting, in person, the services, personally executed, of a sheriff or constable.

"Most importantly," I wrote, "especially for individual non-lawyers who would sue well represented corporations, these conditions represent utterly unnecessary barriers to access to justice."

To the attorney general, I suggested that the office should not shirk its responsibility to exercise concurrent enforcement authority with federal agencies, especially to stop plain violations of state consumer protection law, such as deceptive sales practices. 

The full letter appears below.


September 4, 2026

Rep. Jennifer Smith Boylan & Sen. Pamela J. Lauria, 82 Smith St., Providence, RI

Hon. Peter F. Neronha, 150 S. Main St., Providence, R.I.

Dear Representative, Senator, and Attorney General:

I enclose for your information a blog article about a small claims lawsuit I am prosecuting in Rhode Island Small Claims Court. The article suggests some needed reforms to strengthen consumer protection, including issues I wish to highlight for your consideration.

There is much not to like about the experience that led me to file a small claim. And the law being what it is, at both state and federal levels, my prospects to prevail are slim, for myriad reasons hardly related to the merits of the case. I am content to prosecute this matter anyway in the hope of pressuring the defendant and its industry to reform practices that are abusive of consumers. If at any time you would like to have a longer conversation about what state government can do to better protect Rhode Island consumers, count me in.

Meanwhile, the merits of this action really are tangential to my purpose in writing to you; rather, especially for you, Representative, and for you, Senator, I wish to highlight self-evident defects in the pleading process in small-claims court that should not be difficult to correct through legislation or simple administrative reform:

  1. Filing should not cost a complainant the inconvenience and expense of notary service.
  2. Filing should not preclude a complainant from providing a valid service-of-process address for a respondent’s registered agent.
  3. Filing should not charge a complainant with the responsibility of generating for the respondent hardcopies of an answer form, instructions, and interpreter instructions in four languages, requiring a filing portfolio of 19 pages, plus a second copy, for a complaint of only one or two lines.
  4. Service of process to in-state defendants should not require of a complainant the inconvenience and expense of enlisting, in person, the services, personally executed, of a sheriff or constable.

All of these conditions waste the time, energy, and money of complainants. Conditions (1), (3), and (4) do not pertain in small-claims court in neighboring Massachusetts; moreover, a complainant in Massachusetts can complete the whole process from home through an e-filing system, and for less money (about $62) than in Rhode Island (more than $150).

Most importantly, especially for individual non-lawyers who would sue well represented corporations, these conditions represent utterly unnecessary barriers to access to justice.

Especially for you, Attorney General, I wish to highlight an issue with the consumer protection services of your office. While I am grateful, truly, for the responsiveness of your office in general, and the capable people who work there, the office succumbs to a common malady in state consumer protection in the states, which is its blanket deference to federal authorities when a respondent is in a regulated industry, or sometimes just out of state.

As an attorney, you know as well as I do that neither jurisdiction nor venue depends on the defendant’s place of business; and that federal law in regulated industries does not wholly preempt state law.

Quite to the contrary, state AGs are vital players to hold industry to account while agencies such as FTC and DOJ only count letters. I daresay, moreover, because you do not live on a desert island, that you recognize the need for state consumer protection to step up in an era in which the federal government is pulling back from, un-staffing, and de-funding, justifiably or not, consumer support, and instead cozying up to big business.

Thus for salient example, when a Rhode Islander at home contracts with one of the few service providers in the oligopolistic airline industry, thus establishing both venue and internet jurisdiction, that contract should be regarded as worthy of the same enforcement of state consumer protection law as any in-person sales transaction on any Rhode Island main street. Such a respondent, even in a regulated industry, has no safe harbor in federal regulatory compliance from charges of deception. I understand that some preemption analyses are more complicated, such as for pharma. But concurrent authority does not excuse the AG from enforcement of state law.

Also as you well know, individuals, whether or not lawyers, usually are unable to enforce their own consumer rights, whether because of boilerplate waivers and alternative-dispute-resolution clauses, statutory rights that fail to authorize private enforcement, or simply transaction costs, including know-how. If the regulatory authorities fail to fill the gap, then industry quickly apprehends and exercises its autonomy to abuse consumers with impunity.

I thank you for your attention and welcome your further interest in these or related matters of consumer protection in Rhode Island.

Sincerely,
/s/
Rick Peltz-Steele

Tuesday, September 1, 2026

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

A Savory Tort Investigation

I sued Air France yesterday.

Consumer Protection and Airline Impunity

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If only it were that easy. 

Small Claims Court and Barriers to Consumer Protection

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

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

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

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

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

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

Small-claims filing instructions at Mass.gov purport
to afford venue where a plaintiff works.
Happily, the Massachusetts courts website told me that small claims courts in the commonwealth will exercise venue based on a plaintiff's place of work—or home, or business. I work in Massachusetts. Even better, the courts accept e-filings.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Service of process in Rhode Island is a racket.

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

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

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

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

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

On the backs of complainants,
R.I. sheriffs get a piece of the action.

photo RJ Peltz-Steele CC0 1.0
No more, apparently. Rhode Island now requires that a small claims pro se plaintiff march from the courthouse in Providence, R.I., to the state Sheriffs Headquarters in Cranston, R.I., eight miles away, closes at 4 p.m.!, and there find a sheriff or constable to effect service ($70).

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

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

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

Anyone have the telephone number for Massachusetts? 

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe the sheriffs' slush fund is running short.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

R.I. court instructions in Cambodian stand ready
to aid the New York corporate lawyer who needs them.
Wait, there's more!

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

Cambodian.

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

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

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

But I couldn't help myself. 

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

Unfazed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wednesday, January 21, 2026

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.

Tuesday, September 9, 2025

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?

Tuesday, September 10, 2024

To contradict consistent record of impotence, DOT opens needed inquiry into airline miles programs

Washington, D.C.—The U.S. Transportation Department (DOT) last week opened an investigation of airline frequent-flier programs, and it's about time.

The old adage about wheels of justice turning slowly usually well describes the antitrust activities of the Justice Department (DOJ) and Federal Trade Commission (FTC). Only in recent years has the government begun to awaken to the rampant price-fixing in our economy that consumers have been accustomed to for decades. Runaway inflation shed light on how little choice Americans have in grocery stores, probably prompting FTC qualms over the Kroger-Albertson merger. Sky-high rents and a housing shortage similarly have prompted DOJ attention to rent-fixing.

Now it seems the emphasis is on the wheels part of the old adage, as DOT takes a belated interest in the airlines. Absurdly high prices, especially in domestic travel, probably stirred the agency giant. The Biden Administration and Buttigieg DOT have largely failed to deliver on infrastructure promises. So it's pleasing to see a glimmer of concern for consumer welfare vis-à-vis ever more profitable providers.

A window view sometimes makes flying a tiny bit less miserable.
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
Misery in the Air

As to domestic air travel, I remember President Obama saying the economy's great, but workers might have to move for jobs. Meanwhile we're encouraged to have multi-generational households to care for our elderly, and the great economy compels college grads to move back in with their parents. Is the whole family supposed to move to the same place at the same time? Air travel is a necessity for families in the vast geography of our national labor market, yet we continue to allow our oversized airlines, themselves products of mergers that should not have been allowed, to operate as if they're concierges of bespoke services.

Bespoke is ever less the consumer experience, even as prices soar. Six of my last six domestic flights, all on American Airlines, were hours late. I would be due a huge compensation check were I in the EU. From American Airlines? Nothing. To the contrary, I had to foot the bill out of pocket for transfers and overnights in pricey cities such as Chicago and D.C., else sleep in the airport. The Buttigieg DOT and Congress keep making noise about passenger compensation. But noise, to appease the electorate, is all it's amounted to. Don't even get me started on sticky trays, filthy seats, and cramped spaces on packed planes.

We All Fall Down

As to infrastructure promises, if you're thinking, "well, the Republican Congress": Save it. I don't want to hear it. The whole thing about Joe was his ability to reach across the aisle. And I didn't vote for either one of them, so if ever you tire of see-sawing between obstructionist opponents as an excuse for getting nothing done, stop voting for the only thing you're offered and come talk to me about how we dismantle the two-party system. Consumer choice indeed.

Yes, there was the infrastructure bill. Biden deserves credit for that, and I appreciate it. But even the Biden Administration knew that that would not even bring us level with our maintenance needs, much less make systemic investments.

Use of the infrastructure money, such as it is, raises serious doubts about the government's fiscal responsibility. My home state of Rhode Island is using federal infrastructure money to rebuild rotted wooden bike-path bridges that I use, so I'm selfishly pleased. But it wasn't the purpose of the bill to restore recreational paths for which the states should have planned anyway. Rhode Island failed to fund replacement for the decades when the bridges' inevitable expiry was well known; consequently, the bridges have been subject to dangerous detours for years since the failure. And the bridges are hardly vital infrastructure; the few people who actually commute on them are stymied by uncleared snow in the winter and an abrupt end to dedicated lanes at the ends.

I have doubts too about even the more clearly legitimate uses of the money. DOT and Amtrak plan to build out vital northeastern rail service westward in Massachusetts, a welcome initiative. But the trains will not be any better than the embarrassingly slow service we have in our rail system now; driving will still be preferable for speed and reliability. I remember "Amtrak Joe" saying something about high-speed trains, you know, like in the developed world. The best the administration seems to have managed is to ask Japan for help with high-speed rail. I guess we don't have the technology.

Round and Round

Topping it all off, there's the corruption that the government seems unable to get a handle on. Or as we call it in America, contracting. Rhode Island got caught with its pants down last year when the key Washington Bridge alongside the I-95 corridor in Providence was found to be fatally defective and was suddenly closed. A "junior engineer" spied the rusty deficiency, media reported, or as I like to say, a "former junior engineer" who didn't get the memo. Because the odds are nil that inspection contractors, who enjoy a revolving door with state government offices, somehow failed to notice the problem for years.

The bridge has to be torn down and replaced, and costs are spiraling. When the state bid the demolition project, intense media and public scrutiny compelled a realistic cost estimate of $31 million. But contractors don't emerge from their pools of money for realistic. The state ultimately awarded the work for close to $50 million. But wait, there's more. The company that was awarded the demolition contract is also a defendant in the state lawsuit over the defective bridge. You can't make this stuff up.

The overall estimate, no doubt too low, for the Washington Bridge replacement is about a half billion dollars, and we should pause a moment on that number. It can be difficult to assess the legitimacy of these big numbers, as the average consumer has little frame of reference to differentiate a million from a billion. For some reason I play the lottery only when the jackpot hits a half billion, as if I would not be content with a tenth as much.

The Massachusetts Bay Transit Authority (MBTA) recently estimated that it would take $24 billion to make the Boston T work the way it's supposed to. That's not to improve the system; that's just to bring it up to serviceable: timely trains, functional stations. The T is infamously unreliable and plagued by maintenance issues. Yes, it is an old system, but that doesn't fully explain the problems. An extension of the green line opened in 2022, for example, and saw such problems with defective tracks that trains had to be slowed to less than walking speed.

Chair: Wait, I see a hand. Rhode Island, you have an idea?

Rhode Island: Yes, Mr. Chair. We propose that the MBTA hire the contractor that built the green-line extension also to remove and replace it.

Chair: Thank you, Rhode Island.

Rhode Island (to camera): Baltimore, 🤙 <<call me>>.

In contrast, the city of Brisbane, Australia, is rebuilding its metro system, including a new fleet of electric vehicles and excavation of a new tunnel, for a price tag of only $1.4 billion. That's Australian dollars; it's about US$930 million. Brisbane's metro is a smaller system than Boston's, yet I can't help but think that the T couldn't mop up the urine in the system for a billion dollars.

I might not know millions from billions, but I know that 1 for new is a better buy than 24 for old. It's hard not to conclude that something is amiss in accountability for infrastructure spending. If only there were, I don't know, experts, or something, who don't work for contractors. Maybe they could work in the government, for the public.

Miles To Go

Well the good thing about antitrust enforcement is that it requires lawyers, but no new construction. Maybe the Buttigieg DOT has found its knack.

The ways in which airlines have innovated consumer exploitation in frequent-flier programs are sufficiently many to constitute a course in business school. Well, bad-business school. Violations of antitrust law are so painfully obvious that it's hard to believe we have antitrust enforcement at all.

The legal status of frequent-flier miles has evolved since the programs were conceived circa 1979. They started as little different from tenth-sandwich-free punch-card programs. It was the funny kicker on the news when they were first contested as property in legal contexts such as divorce. That's not an unprecedented evolution, by the way. Divorce has a way of showing us what's valuable to people. Dogs and cats are transitioning from mere chattel to intangible value in tort law by way of divorce court.

Notwithstanding limited legal exceptions, courts tended nonetheless to regard the airline mile as a purely contractual creature. Airlines urged that construction and delighted in it. The miles are thus controlled by terms of service, to which consumers bind themselves usually with neither meaningful choice nor actual knowledge. Per the law of boilerplate in the information age, the airlines reserve the right to change the terms more or less unilaterally. That's why the airlines can and do devalue miles routinely and add new redemption restrictions, such as blackout dates and transfer limits.

Corporations' concerted efforts to construct self-serving legal doctrine has not stopped miles from becoming "a virtual currency." The government has long tolerated this dichotomy of law and reality. And things might have continued swimmingly for the airlines had they not succumbed to greed, the Achilles heel of the American corporate ethos. Once the airlines understood that miles and money were interchangeable, they started making them, literally, interchangeable. Today a consumer can earn miles per dollar on credit cards, transfer cash-back rewards to mileage programs, and simply buy miles.

Devastatingly to the airlines' antitrust position, they doubled down on co-branded credit cards. Those agreements are a specific target of the DOT investigation. I have an American Airlines card and a United card; I've had Southwest and Delta cards in the past and probably will again. My cards get me earlier boarding and other perks. Most importantly, they (thankfully excepting Southwest) "save me" baggage-check fees. The annual fee on each card is $99; it costs $80 to check a bag roundtrip.

I put "save me" in quote marks because, remember, there didn't use to be baggage fees. Co-branded credit cards date to the 1980s, but they really took off, no pun intended, in the 20-aughts. Baggage fees were introduced in 2008. Coincidence much? Consumers have been coerced into having the credit cards; it would be economically irrational not to. Of course, paying the airfare with the card earns more miles. The cycle continues.

Ganesh Sitaraman aptly reported in The Atlantic last year, as the headlines put it, "Airlines are just banks now: They make more money from mileage programs than from flying planes—and it shows." 

But airlines are not regulated as banks.

And that's why federal scrutiny is long overdue.

Scribd has the DOT Template Letter on the Airline Rewards Inquiry, issued to the four largest carriers, American, Delta, United, and Southwest. HT @ TPG.

Tuesday, February 6, 2024

AI can make law better and more accessible; it won't

Gencraft AI image
Artificial intelligence is changing the legal profession, and the supply of legal services is growing even more disconnected from demand.

The latter proposition is my assessment, but experts agreed at a national bar conference last week that AI will change the face of legal practice for attorneys and clients, as well as law students and professors.

Lexis and Westlaw each recently launched a generative AI product, Lexis+ AI Legal Assistant and AI-Assisted Research on Westlaw Precision. One might fairly expect that these tools will make legal work faster and more efficient, which in turn would make legal services accessible to more people. I fear the opposite will happen.

The endangered first-year associate. The problem boils down to the elimination of entry-level jobs in legal practice. Panelists at The Next Generation and the Future of Business Litigation conference of the Tort Trial Insurance Practice Section (TIPS) of the American Bar Association (ABA) at the ABA Midyear Meeting in Louisville, Kentucky, last week told audience members that AI now performs the work of first- and second-year associates in legal practice.

The change might or might not be revolutionary. Popular wisdom routinely describes generative AI as a turning point on the evolutionary scale. But panelists pointed out that legal research has seen sea change before, and the sky did not fall. Indeed, doomsayers once predicted the end of responsible legal practice upon the very advent of Lexis and Westlaw in displacement of books and paper—a transformation contemporary with my career. Law practice adapted, if not for the better in every respect.

It's in the work of junior attorneys that AI is having the greatest impact now. It can do the background legal research that a senior lawyer might assign to a junior lawyer upon acquisition of a new client or case. AI also can do the grunt work on which new lawyers cut their teeth, such as pleadings, motions, and discovery.

According to (aptly named) Oregon attorney Justice J. Brooks, lawyers are under huge pressure from clients and insurers to use AI, regardless of the opportunity cost in bringing up new attorneys. Fortune 500 companies are demanding that AI be part of a lawyer's services as a condition of retention. The corporate client will not pay for the five hours it takes an associate to draft discovery requests when AI can do it in 1.5.

Observers of law and technology, as well as the courts, have wrung their hands recently amid high-profile reports of AI-using lawyers behaving badly, for example, filing briefs citing sources that do not exist. Brooks said that a lawyer must review with a "critical eye" the research memorandum that AI produces. Insofar as there have been ethical lapses, "we've always had the problem of lawyers not reading cases," Illinois lawyer Jayne R. Reardon observed.

Faster and cheaper, but not always better, AI. There's the rub for newly minted associates: senior lawyers must bring the same scrutiny to bear on AI work that they bring to the toddling memo of the first-year associate. And AI works faster and cheaper.

Meanwhile, AI performs some mundane tasks better than a human lawyer. More than cutting corners, AI sometimes sees a new angle for interrogatories in discovery, Brooks said. Sometimes AI comes up with an inventive compromise for a problem in mediation, Kentucky attorney Stephen Embry said. AI can analyze dialogs to trace points of agreements and disagreement in negotiation, Illinois lawyer Svetlana Gitman reported.

AI does a quick and superb job on the odd request for boilerplate, North Carolina attorney Victoria Alvarez said. For example, "I need a North Carolina contract venue clause." And AI can organize quickly large data sets, she said, generating spreadsheets, tables, and graphics.

What AI cannot yet do well is good jobs news for senior lawyers and professors such as me: AI cannot make complex arguments, Brooks said. In fact, he likes to receive AI-drafted memoranda from legal opponents. They're easily recognizable, he said, and it's easy to pick apart their arguments, which are on par with the sophistication of a college freshman.

Similarly, Brooks said, AI is especially bad at working out solutions to problems in unsettled areas of law. It is confused when its training materials—all of the law and most of the commentary on it—point in different directions. 

In a way, AI is hampered by its own sweeping knowledge. It has so much information that it cannot readily discern what is important and what is not. A lawyer might readily understand, for example, that a trending theory in Ninth Circuit jurisprudence is the peculiar result of concurring philosophical leanings among involved judges and likely will be rejected when the issue arises in the Fifth Circuit, where philosophical leanings tend to the contrary. AI doesn't see that. That's where human insight still marks a peculiar distinction—for now, at least, and until I retire, I hope.

It's that lack of discernment that has caused AI to make up sources, Brandeis Law Professor Susan Tanner said. AI wants to please its user, Oregon lawyer Laura Caldera Loera explained. So if a lawyer queries AI, "Give me a case that says X," AI does what was asked. The questioner presumes the case exists, and the AI follows that lead. If it can't find the case, it extrapolates from known sources. And weirdly, as Tanner explained it, "[AI] wants to convince you that it's right" and is good at doing so.

Client confidences. The panelists discussed other issue with AI in legal practice, such as the importance of protecting client confidences. Information fed into an open AI in asking a question becomes part of the AI's knowledge base. A careless lawyer might reveal confidential information that the AI later discloses in response to someone else's different query.

Some law firms and commercial services are using closed AIs to manage the confidentiality problem. For example, a firm might train a closed AI system on an internal bank of previously drafted transactional documents. Lexis and Westlaw AIs are trained similarly on the full data sets of those proprietary databases, but not, like ChatGPT, on the open internet—Pornhub included, clinical psychologist Dan Jolivet said.

But any limited or closed AI system is then limited correspondingly in its ability to formulate responses. And closed systems still might compromise confidentiality around ethical walls within a firm. Tanner said that a questioner cannot instruct AI simply to disregard some information; such an instruction is fundamentally contrary to how generative AI works.

Law schools in the lurch.  Every panelist who addressed the problem of employment and training for new lawyers insisted that the profession must take responsibility for the gap that AI will create at the entry level. Brooks said he pushes back, if sometimes futilely, on client demands to eliminate people from the service chain. Some panelists echoed the tantalean promise of billing models that will replace the billable hour. But no one could map a path forward in which there would be other than idealistic incentives for law firms to hire and train new lawyers.

And that's a merry-go-round I've been on for decades. For the entirety of my academic career, the bar has bemoaned the lack of "practice ready" lawyers. And where have practitioners placed blame? Not on their bottom-line-driven, profit-making business models, but on law schools and law professors.

And law schools, under the yoke of ABA accreditation, have yielded. The law curriculum today is loaded with practice course requirements, bar prep requirements, field placement requirements, and pro bono requirements. We have as well, of course, dedicated faculty and administrative positions to meet these needs.

That's not bad in of itself, of course. The problem arises, though, in that the curriculum and staffing are zero-sum games. When law students load up on practice-oriented hours, they're not doing things that law students used to do. When finite employment lines are dedicated to practice roles, there are other kinds of teachers absent who used to be there.

No one pauses to ask what we're missing.

My friend and mentor Professor Andrew McClurg, retired from the University of Memphis, famously told students that they should make the most of law school, because for most of them, it would be the last time in their careers that they would be able to think about the law.

Take the elective in the thing that stimulates your mind, McClurg advised students (and I have followed suit as an academic adviser). Explore law with a not-nuts-and-bolts seminar, such as law and literature or international human rights. Embrace the theory and philosophy of law—even in, say, your 1L torts class.

When, like my wife once was, you're a legal services attorney struggling to pay on your educational debt and have a home and a family while trying to maintain some semblance of professional responsibility in managing an impossible load of 70 cases and clients pulling 24/7 in every direction, you're not going to have the luxury of thinking about the law.

Profit machines. What I learned from law's last great leap forward was that the "profession" will not take responsibility for training new lawyers. Lawyer salaries at the top will reach ever more for the heavens, while those same lawyers demand ever more of legal education, and of vastly less well compensated legal educators, to transform and give of themselves to be more trade school and less graduate education.

Tanner put words to what the powers-that-be in practice want for law schools to do with law students today: "Train them so that they're profitable."  In other words, make billing machines, not professionals.

Insofar as that has already happened, the result has been a widening, not narrowing, of the gap between supply and demand for legal services. Wealthy persons and corporations have the resources to secure bespoke legal services. They always will. In an AI world, bespoke legal services means humans capable of discernment and complex argument, "critical eyes." 

Ordinary people have ever less access to legal services. What law schools have to do is expensive, and debt-burdened students cannot afford to work for what ordinary people are able to pay.

A lack of in-practice training and failure of inculcation to law as historic profession rather than workaday trade will mean more lawyers who are minimally, but not more, competent; lawyers who can fill out forms, but not conceive new theories; lawyers who have been trained on simulations and pro bono hours, but were never taught or afforded an opportunity to think about the law. 

These new generations of lawyers will lack discernment. They will not be able to make complex arguments or to pioneer understanding in unsettled areas of law. They will be little different from and no more capable than the AIs that clients pay them to access, little better than a human equivalent to a Staples legal form pack.

These lawyers will be hopelessly outmatched by their bespoke brethren. The ordinary person's lawyer will be employed only because the economically protectionist bar will forbid direct lay access to AI for legal services.

The bar will comprise two tribes: a sparsely populated sect of elite lawyer-professionals, and a mass of lawyer-tradespeople who keep the factory drums of legal education churning out form wills and contracts to keep the rabble at bay.

The haves and the have nots. 

It's a brave new world, and there is nothing new under the sun.

The first ABA TIPS panel comprised Victoria Alvarez, Troutman Pepper, Charlotte, N.C., moderator; Laura Caldera Loera and Amanda Bryan, Bullivant Houser Bailey, Portland, Ore.; Professor Susan Tanner, Louis D. Brandeis School of Law, Louisville, Ky.; and Justice J. Brooks, Foster Garvey, Portland, Ore. The second ABA TIPS panel referenced here comprised Svetlana Gitman, American Arbitration Association-International Center for Dispute Resolution, Chicago, Ill., moderator; Stephen Embry, EmbryLaw LLC and TechLaw Crossroads, Louisville, Ky.; Reginald A. Holmes, arbitrator, mediator, tech entrepreneur, and engineer, Los Angeles, Cal.; and Jayne R. Reardon, Fisher Broyles, Chicago, Ill.

Friday, September 1, 2023

Acuerdo en inglés para arbitrar vincula al firmante de habla hispana aunque no lo entendió, tribunal concluye

(English translation by Google: Agreement in English to arbitrate binds Spanish-speaking signatory even though he did not understand it, court rules.)

Un hombre de habla hispana se comprometió a un acuerdo de arbitraje en inglés incluso si no lo entendía, dictaminó ayer el Tribunal de Apelaciones de Massachusetts.

El día de su cirugía para corregir la visión con Lasik, el demandante Lopez firmó cuatro formularios en inglés, incluido el consentimiento y el acuerdo para arbitrar cualquier disputa. Más tarde, insatisfecho con la cirugía, Lopez presentó una demanda, alegando negligencia médica.

CC0

Revocando la decisión del Tribunal Superior, el Tribunal de Apelaciones ordenó la desestimación tras la moción del demandado de obligar al arbitraje.

Las cláusulas de arbitraje obligatorio han sido un punto de dolor para los defensores de consumidores durante décadas. Son una parte del problema de los términos de servicio densos y no negociables que son omnipresentes en las transacciones de consumo contemporáneas, tema de libros como Wrap Contracts (2013), por Nancy Kim, y Boilerplate (2012), por Margaret Jane Radin.

Los defensores de consumidores como Ralph Nader lamentan la eliminación masiva de disputas del sistema de justicia civil, un impacto en la Séptima Enmienda y una propagación democráticamente problemática de la justicia secreta. Y detrás de las puertas cerradas del arbitraje, las probabilidades favorecen a los negocios de manera tan abrumadora que alimentan dudas sobre la justicia. Los árbitros que no dictaminan la forma en que los demandados recurrentes corren el riesgo de quedarse sin trabajo.

A pesar de estos potentes motivos de preocupación, los legisladores y los tribunales se han puesto del lado de las empresas para proteger y hacer cumplir el arbitraje obligatorio, supuestamente para proteger al comercio de los intolerables costos de transacción de los litigios.

En el ley común de daños, el consentimiento y la asunción expresa del riesgo niegan la responsabilidad, porque se debe permitir que dos personas establezcan los términos de su propia relación. Podrán apartarse del contrato social siempre que los términos que fijen no violen el orden público; es posible que, por ejemplo, no acepten cometer una herida. En teoría, ambas defensas se basan en el acuerdo voluntario y consciente del demandante.

El demandante que firma un contrato sin leerlo cuestiona esta teoría. La firma evidencia el acuerdo subjetivo del demandante. De hecho, no existe ningún acuerdo subjetivo; el conocimiento y la comprensión de los términos acordados no se pueden encontrar en la mente del demandante.

La regla general es que la firma vincula de todos modos. Y en gran medida, esta regla es necesaria, incluso si significa que las personas están obligadas a cumplir términos que no habrían aceptado si los hubieran entendido. El comercio depende de la fiabilidad de los contratos. Si una parte del contrato  siempre pudiera impugnar la aplicabilidad basándose en testimonios interesados de malentendidos, entonces el litigio sería tan gravoso que paralizaría los negocios.

Un malentendido subjetivo puede causar un incumplimiento del contrato en el derecho de daños si mitiga la evidencia de la aquiescencia del demandante. Así, por ejemplo, las empresas a veces buscan establecer la asunción expresa del riesgo por parte de los clientes con un cartel que diga que "cualquiera que proceda más allá de este punto asume el riesgo de sufrir daños por negligencia." (A veces, tales carteles son exigibles por ley.) En tal caso, el demandante puede al menos argumentar que no vio el cartel, o, mejor, no lo entendió debido al lenguaje.

Desafortunadamente para Lopez, no conocía esos datos. El tribunal relató: "Lopez testificó que había vivido en Massachusetts durante doce años en el momento de su cirugía y había aprendido 'un poco' de inglés 'en las calles.'" (Las opiniones de los tribunales y el testimonio citado están en inglés; todas las traducciones aquí son mias.) El Tribunal Superior había determinado que "Lopez no tenía un comprensión suficiente del inglés para permitirle leer el Acuerdo de Arbitraje." Al mismo tiempo, la oficina de cirugía tenía un traductor de español disponible; Lopez no pidió ayuda. El hecho de su firma era inequívoco.

El tribunal razonó:

"Los contratos escritos tienen como objetivo preservar los términos exactos de las obligaciones asumidas, de modo que no estén sujetos a la posibilidad de una falta de recuerdo o una declaración errónea intencionada." [Grace v. Adams (Mass. 1868).] Esta regla de larga data 'se basa en la necesidad fundamental de seguridad en las transacciones comerciales." [Williston on Contracts (4a ed. 2022).] Estos principios legales subrayan que existe una "solemnidad [para] firmar físicamente un contrato escrito" que hace que una firma sea algo más que un simple adorno elegante en un documento. [Kauders v. Uber Techs., Inc. (Mass. 2021).]

Lopez testificó que no habría firmado el acuerdo de arbitraje si hubiera podido entenderlo. El mayor problema político para la protección del consumidor en Estados Unidos es que esta afirmación probablemente sea falsa, sin el beneficio de la retrospectiva. Es prácticamente imposible vivir en el mundo moderno—tarjetas de crédito, teléfonos móviles, sitios web, servicios públicos, viajes—sin aceptar un arbitraje obligatorio todos los días.

El caso es Lopez Rivera v. Stetson, No. 22-P-904 (Mass. App. Ct. Aug. 31, 2023). El juez Christopher P. Hodgens redactó la opinión del panel unánime, en el que también estaban los jueces Wolohojian y Shin.