A short excerpt from today's longish Tenth Circuit opinion in VoteAmerica v. Schwab, by Judge Timothy Tymkovich, joined by Judges Michael Murphy and Joel Carson:

To reduce voter confusion and increase confidence in elections, the Kansas legislature prohibited private parties from partially prefilling applications for mail ballots before those applications are sent to registered voters. VoteAmerica and Voter Participation Center sued, alleging that the restriction infringed on their freedom of speech guaranteed by the First Amendment….

Relying on the political reaction against mail-in voting and Kansas's failure to prove an adequate fit between its stated interests and the Prohibition, the [district] court concluded that Kansas enacted the Prohibition to suppress speech supporting mail-in voting. Applying strict scrutiny (and intermediate scrutiny in the alternative), the court concluded that the law failed because it was not sufficiently tailored….

[W]e REVERSE the district court's judgment. The district court found an improper purpose without evidence from the Prohibition's justifications, text, or legislative history; it instead inferred an improper purpose from the national political debate on mail-in voting. That finding was in error. Because the Prohibition was enacted without an improper purpose, we apply intermediate scrutiny and find the Prohibition constitutional….

The court held the law was viewpoint-neutral (and content-neutral):

VPC [plaintiff Voter Participation Center] bears the burden to show that the Prohibition was enacted with viewpoint-discriminatory purpose…. A law is adopted with improper purpose if it was adopted "because of disagreement with the message the speech conveys." …

We do not, however, assume that a law is adopted with improper purpose simply "because it may disproportionately affect speech on certain topics," or because "it has an incidental effect on some speakers or messages but not others." McCullen v. Coakley (2014)….

Kansas contends that the district court wrongly inferred improper purpose when the Prohibition's text, enactment history, and the State's justifications for the law evince no such purpose. We agree.

First, Kansas's stated interests in the Prohibition are not intrinsically tied to restricting a viewpoint. Kansas stated that the Prohibition is meant to (1) minimize voter confusion; (2) facilitate efficiency in election administration; and (3) foster confidence in and protect the integrity of the electoral process. These are each legitimate interests—and they are independent of any alleged purpose in restricting VPC's pro-mail-in-voting viewpoint….

VPC counters that we must look beyond Kansas's stated interests to the Prohibition's operation. For, if "[e]very objective indication shows that the provision's primary purpose is to restrict speech that [advances a certain viewpoint]," we should not conclude that the provision was enacted with a proper purpose "simply because the statute itself and those defending it in court say that it is[.]" See McCullen (Scalia, J., concurring). VPC highlights the Prohibition's disproportionate effect on the pro-mail-in-voting viewpoint. It urges that the Prohibition functions to target only mail-in voting advocates because those against mail-in voting would not prefill applications.

That may be true, but caselaw forecloses VPC's argument. Without more, incidental disproportionate effect on one subject or viewpoint does not prove improper purpose. See McCullen (majority opinion) ("[A] facially neutral law does not become content based simply because it may disproportionately affect speech on certain topics.")….

VPC fails to show that Kansas enacted the Prohibition to suppress its pro-mail-voting viewpoint. The district court's reliance on cultural antagonism against mail-in voting to infer the Kansas legislature enacted the prohibition with an improper purpose—when the law's justifications, text, and enactment history reveal no such purpose—was in error….

And the court held that the law passed the intermediate scrutiny applicable to content-neutral speech restrictions:

Speech restrictions survive intermediate scrutiny if they "(a) serve a significant government interest; (b) are narrowly tailored to advance that interest; and (c) leave open ample alternative channels of communication." …

Kansas's stated interests are significant… Kansas identified the harm of voter confusion that the prefilled applications caused. The State says some voters called in angry and perplexed by inaccurate prefilled applications. And it points to others who unnecessarily submitted multiple applications after receiving the prefilled forms. Kansas identified the administrative burdens caused by the erroneously prefilled applications, duplicate submissions (caused, at least in part, by the prefilling confusion), and time spent assuaging voters' concerns and confusion. And Kansas identified lost confidence in the electoral process. County election officials were flooded with calls and letters from voters frustrated by the purported incompetence of their county because of errors in the prefilled applications….

The Prohibition is also adequately tailored to address Kansas's legislative interests and does not restrict substantially more speech than necessary. And because the Prohibition minimally burdens speech, it was not necessary to point to alternative regulatory schemes.

First, minimizing voter confusion. Kansas cites evidence of voter confusion caused by the prefilled applications. Kansas showed that the prefilled applications caused confusion among voters because of the applications' errors and many voters' beliefs that they needed to sign and mail prefilled applications even if they had already submitted one.

The Prohibition is tailored to alleviate this harm. Because of the Prohibition, voters will receive blank ballot applications with no error, removing any confusion resulting when voters received erroneous applications but had previously reported their information change to the county election office. And we can reasonably infer that some voters who felt compelled to submit the prefilled applications will not feel compelled to do the same when they are blank….

[T]he evidence here directly relates to the Prohibition—county officials testified to voter confusion resulting from (1) error in prefilled applications, and (2) receipt of prefilled applications, when voters had already submitted applications….

The Prohibition also does not burden substantially more speech than necessary to minimize voter confusion resulting from prefilled ballot applications. Kansas's solution—outright prohibiting the prefilling of applications—was reasonable and "the threat to free speech posed by the Prohibition is sufficiently small." There are few (if any) less-burdensome alternatives that could cure the problem because "the use of forms by the government inherently requires content restrictions." This showing is sufficient to survive narrow tailoring….

Second, administering efficient elections. Kansas presented evidence of the administrative burden caused by the erroneously prefilled applications (and duplicate submissions of prefilled applications). Kansas demonstrated that county offices regularly received erroneous prefilled applications and duplicate applications because voters believed they needed to submit the prefilled applications they received. Kansas produced evidence that these erroneous prefilled ballots and duplicate submissions produced a significant administrative burden. The three to five minutes processing time for an accurate, non-duplicate application could increase to over thirty minutes. The Prohibition alleviates this processing burden by reducing the amount of erroneously prefilled and duplicate applications county offices receive.

VPC nevertheless counters that Kansas failed to provide evidence of harm because it did not show how many duplicate or inaccurate prefilled applications county offices received. But the record demonstrates that at least 3% of VPC's Kansas voter database was inaccurate, suggesting that VPC sent more than 15,000 erroneous applications to Kansans during the 2020 general election. And county offices reported, without providing exact numbers, that the number of duplicate and erroneous prefilled applications skyrocketed. Kansas offers sufficient evidence supporting the claim that prefilled applications caused administrative harm.

To rebut Kansas's showing of narrow tailoring, VPC also relies on the district court's conclusion that the "real issue" producing the administrative burden was duplicate applications. But Kansas shows that it expended extra resources on duplicates and error-riddled prefilled applications. And Kansas points to evidence showing that voters submitted duplicates in part because they were prefilled—they thought they had to.

The district court reached the contrary conclusion that the prefilled applications did not cause administrative harm in large part because Cox and Shew testified that in some ways they preferred prefilled applications. But the district court erred in concluding that the Prohibition's potential allowance of one problem—increased human error in applications—negated the adequacy of the Prohibition's tailoring to a different problem, third-party error in the prefilled applications. Kansas has a right to act prophylactically to minimize administrative burden, and to do so in its best judgment by addressing one problem contributing to it.

Perhaps the Prohibition will be net neutral. But Kansas tailored the Prohibition to a discrete problem producing an administrative burden and directly ameliorated that problem. And because the Prohibition does not burden substantially more speech than necessary to further Kansas's interest in facilitating efficient elections, the Prohibition is narrowly tailored.

Third, fostering confidence in election integrity. Kansas offers record evidence of voter frustration and distrust caused by the prefilled ballot applications. Howell described voters venting frustration at the alleged incompetence of their county upon receiving applications that contained a wrong name and address; some who had previously communicated changes to the office were especially frustrated. The Prohibition addresses this distrust and frustration by removing the source of the voters' complaints….

Finally, the Prohibition leaves open ample alternative channels of communication. VPC "remains free to choose what avenue of communication it will use to advocate for mail voting, including the use of unsolicited mailers." It may even include a sheet with the previously prefilled information alongside a blank application….

Because the Prohibition is adequately tailored under intermediate scrutiny, its minimal restriction on the content of VPC's speech is permissible under the First Amendment.

Bradley J. Schlozman, Scott R. Schillings and Garrett R. Roe (Hinkle Law Firm LLC) represent defendants.

The post Kansas Ban on Private Parties' Partially Prefilling Voters' Mail Ballot Applications Upheld appeared first on Reason Magazine.

Some short excerpts from the long opinion in Computer & Comm. Indus. Ass'n v. Uthmeier, decided today by Judge Kevin Newsom, joined by Judges Robert Luck and Gerald Bard Tjoflat:

One of the most pressing is how and in what ways social-media use affects minors. According to the State of Florida, social-media companies seed their platforms with "addictive features"—push notifications, auto-play, infinite scrolling, etc.—in order to make them, well, addictive. These features, the state says, are "psychological hooks" that "overstimulate the reward center in the brain" and "foster compulsive overuse." Florida insists that children are particularly susceptible to these "addictive features" because their brains are still developing. In particular, the state contends, the features contribute to "[c]ompulsive or uncontrollable" social-media use among children and threaten a "youth mental health crisis." Children face "'sleep problems, attention problems, and feelings of exclusion,' all of which put [them] at risk of 'depression, anxiety, and neuroticism.'"

In an effort to protect children from social-media addiction and its ensuing effects, Florida passed HB3, which imposes age-restriction requirements on platforms that use "addictive features." In particular, HB3 requires platforms within its ambit to prohibit anyone under the age of 14 from creating an account, and to prohibit anyone else under 16 from doing so without parental consent….

[W]e hold that HB3 likely passes First Amendment muster because it is a content-neutral speech regulation that satisfies intermediate scrutiny….

The court held that HB3 was a speech restriction and thus implicated the First Amendment:

Florida contends that HB3 "regulates product design, not children's speech," and, accordingly, doesn't even implicate the First Amendment. In particular, the state says, HB3 restricts only the creation of accounts, not social-media access writ large, and thus regulates only "commercial transaction[s]"—namely, a platform's ability to "enter[ ] into a contract" with children of a certain age.

Even accepting the state's characterization, it seems clear enough to us that HB3 "disproportionate[ly] burden[s]" CCIA's member platforms' "protected First Amendment activities"—namely, "compiling and curating others' speech" for their users. In particular, HB3 burdens platforms' ability to communicate with their users by requiring them (1) to prohibit minors under 14 years of age from creating or maintaining accounts and (2) to secure parental consent before communicating with 14- and 15-year-olds.

But it concluded that HB3 was content-neutral:

HB3 is facially content neutral: It regulates social-media platforms based on their functional capabilities and features, not the content they communicate. The law neither references the substance of the speech on any platform nor draws distinctions based on it. Put differently, HB3 applies to platforms wholly without regard to the topics discussed or the ideas or messages conveyed on them. Truth Social is just as likely as Instagram to be affected by HB3 so long as (1) a proportion of minors under 16 spend an average of at least two hours a day on it; (2) it uses infinite scrolling, push notifications, auto-play, or livestreaming, or displays user-engagement metrics; and (3) it selects content algorithmically for users. And tellingly, neither a platform nor a user can "avoid or mitigate" the effects of HB3 by "altering" the substance of any posted expression.

HB3's justification is also content neutral: to "protect[ ] children from [social-media] addiction and associated mental-health harms." That purpose is "unrelated to the content of expression" on any given platform, and it doesn't "reflect[ ] disagreement with the message such speech conveys." …

CCIA contends that HB3 is content based because it applies only to so-called "social" speech: The law, CCIA asserts, targets websites "based on the 'social' subject matter 'of the material they disseminate.'" … [But t]he "social"-ness of speech is a function of its form, not its substance. Put simply, "social" speech, as CCIA seems to be using the term, is simply speech that occurs between users on social-media platforms, wholly without regard to "the topic discussed or the idea or message expressed." Users can engage in so-called "social" speech about any topic, from the sublime (religion, philosophy, etc.) to the ridiculous (celebrity gossip, cat videos, etc.)….

And it held that HB3 likely passed the "intermediate scrutiny" applicable to content-neutral speech restrictions, because the law "advances important governmental interests unrelated to the suppression of free speech and does not burden substantially more speech than necessary to further those interests":

CCIA doesn't dispute that HB3 advances an important state interest; it acknowledges that "protecting minors is certainly a laudable goal." Even so, it says, HB3 fails intermediate scrutiny's first element because Florida's interest "is plainly related to the suppression of expression." In particular, CCIA emphasizes that HB3 prohibits addictive features only on websites, not on other "services that disseminate speech"—like, for instance, "books that end in cliffhangers." Florida singles out social-media platforms, CCIA insists, because they host speech that Florida "distrusts."

CCIA's argument doesn't necessarily follow. It would hold up only if websites have an inherent expressive value that differs from the expressive value inherent in all books. But both books and websites communicate content that spans the full range of expressive values; they just do so in different formats. Absent a restriction on the substance of the topics, ideas, or messages communicated by websites as compared to those communicated by books, HB3's "singling out" of websites is not, as CCIA argues, "plainly related to the suppression of expression." …

HB3 [is] also likely … appropriately tailored to advancing Florida's interest in protecting minors. In particular, HB3 doesn't "burden substantially more speech than necessary" because it (1) calibrates its restrictions by age, (2) regulates minors' creation of social-media accounts, not necessarily their access to the platforms themselves, (3) covers only those platforms that have been determined to induce heavy use by children, and (4) applies only to platforms that use both algorithms and one of several addictive features.

First, HB3 is age delimited. It prohibits minors under 14 from creating accounts, and it requires 14- and 15-year-olds to obtain parental consent before doing so. Notably, it imposes no limitations for those 16 years of age and older. The law thus applies only to younger minors and recognizes the fine-grained distinctions even among those to whom it applies—namely, that 13-year-olds (in general, middleschoolers) are different from 14- and 15-year-olds (those starting high school), who, in turn, are different from those 16 and up (budding adults).

Second, even among those to whom HB3 does apply, the law restricts only their ability to create their own accounts, not their ability to access social-media platforms per se. The creation of a social-media account is a commercial act—a business transaction. Even a minor—indeed, even a young child—may continue to use the platforms provided he either (1) uses his parents' (or someone else's) account or (2) gains access without an account.

Third, HB3 targets only the platforms to which many minors are already addicted. As a reminder, a platform comes within HB3's purview only if at least 10% of daily active users under 16 years old spend an average of two hours or more per day on it. Together with its other limitations, HB3's tailoring efforts fall within the broad range of potential legislative solutions that intermediate scrutiny permits.

And fourth, HB3 operates not as an outright prohibition of platform usage but rather as a "conditional ban" of sorts—namely, on platforms' use of addictive features and algorithms. The law applies only to platforms that use a combination of algorithms and addictive features and that succeed in keeping many minors on them for an average of at least two hours a day. Refraining from using either algorithms or addictive features, or remaining below the temporal threshold, exempts a platform from the law's application.

Now, none of that is necessarily to say that HB3 embodies the best policy choice. Maybe, maybe not. But intermediate scrutiny affords governments "latitude … to design regulatory solutions to address content-neutral interests." Accordingly, it is within Florida's discretion to draw the lines it has—many of which, of course, narrow the law's scope. So, for instance, Florida may validly opt to prohibit minors under 14, rather than 16, from creating social-media accounts, and to require 16-year-olds, rather than all those under 18, to obtain their parents' consent before creating accounts. So too, it may validly train its attention on platforms that a segment of children use more than two hours per day, rather than one. And finally, it is free to focus on sites that use both algorithms and "addictive features," rather than one or the other of those….

Judge Newsom also added a very interesting separate opinion, focused on as-applied challenges and intermediate scrutiny; interested readers may want to look at it, as well as at the panel's discussion of overbreadth challenges and other matters.

The post Florida "Addictive Features" Social Media Restrictions on Minors Likely Constitutional, Eleventh Circuit Holds appeared first on Reason Magazine.

From Molchonova v. FirstBank Puerto Rico & First Bancorp, decided today by Judge Jed Rakoff (S.D.N.Y.):

On September 25, 2026, this Court issued a "bottom-line" Order granting in part and denying in part the motion of defendants FirstBank Puerto Rico and First Bancorp (collectively "FirstBank") to dismiss the complaint brought by plaintiff Julia Molchonova. This Opinion sets forth the reasons for that Order….

An excerpt of Molchonova's allegations (which are just allegations at this stage):

Molchonova, who was one of Epstein's victims, alleges that FirstBank participated in, and benefited from, Epstein's vast criminal enterprise in violation of federal and local law…. As alleged, FirstBank maintained dozens of accounts for Epstein, his entities, and his agents, facilitated millions of dollars in transfers to and from these accounts, and served as a banking reference for Epstein when he sought to charter his own banking entity. These services, among others, were "integral in helping [Epstein] fuel his international sex trafficking operation." …

The court allowed Molchonova's claim under the Trafficking Victims Protection Act ("on behalf of a putative class of Epstein victims") to go forward:

As this Court recently explained, the TVPA imposes civil liability on any "person or entity that knowingly benefits, or attempts or conspires to benefit, financially or by receiving anything of value from participation in a venture which that defendant knew or should have known has engaged in an act in violation of the TVPA." Participant liability "involves three elements: first, that the defendant participated in a commercial sex trafficking venture; second, that the defendant knew or should have known that the venture either involved the perpetrator's use of force, the threat of force, fraud, or coercion to cause the victims to participate in sex or that the venture involved sex with victims who were under the age of 18; and third, that the defendant benefited from its participation in the venture." …

[F]or her participation claim to survive, Molchonova must allege more than that FirstBank provide routine banking services to the Epstein venture. The Court concludes that she has done so. Molchonova has alleged an extensive, longstanding, and continuous relationship between FirstBank and Epstein. For more than two decades, FirstBank opened and maintained more than 30 accounts for Epstein and related entities. The Complaint alleges that these accounts were used to pay victims, and circulate millions of dollars in funds between various Epstein-related entities and individuals, FirstBank processed millions of dollars in payments from Epstein's personal accounts to the FirstBank accounts of entities held by Epstein and his known associates. Several of these entities owned the properties where much of Epstein's trafficking and sexual abuse transpired, while others made payments to victims of Epstein's abuse.

While such extensive activity was more than "routine," what is crucial is that Molchonova has alleged with specificity that FirstBank maintained this extensive and longstanding relationship with Epstein despite ever more extreme "red flags" that ultimately led every other bank to drop him as a client.

Between 2007 and 2015, HSBC, Goldman Sachs, Bank of America, Merrill Lynch, JP Morgan Chase, UBS, and CitiBank all terminated their relationships with Epstein. But FirstBank simply took advantage of these closures to enhance its profitable banking relationship with Epstein. For example, in 2018, "both Fidelity Investments and Deutsche Bank closed its [sic] accounts with Epstein and sent funds from those closures to FirstBank."

At best, these allegations demonstrate an astonishing ignorance to the apparent consensus of the financial services industry not to provide banking services to someone whose grotesque misconduct was becoming ever more obvious. At worst, drawing all inferences in Molchonova's favor, the complaint alleges that FirstBank provided continuous and substantial financial services to Epstein and his associates despite knowing that these services were being used to further Epstein's sex trafficking venture. See Bank of Am. (finding that facilitating wire transfers constituted participation for purposes of the TVPA because the defendant "had every reason to know that [the plaintiff] had no ability to earn legitimate income in the United States and that Epstein, who arranged the set-up of the account and was involved with the transfers, had already been convicted of sex crimes involving underage girls").

While any one of FirstBank's services to Epstein may be claimed to be "routine" (though in many instances even that is suspicious), together, the complaint alleges that FirstBank was deeply enmeshed in Epstein's misconduct for its own financial benefit….

Having concluded that Molchonova has alleged participation, the Court turns to the second element—whether Molchonova "adequately alleges that [FirstBank] either knew or should have known that Epstein's venture used force, the threat of force, fraud, coercion, or some combination of the same to cause its victims to submit to sex, or that the victims who submitted to sex were under the age of 18." The Court concludes that she has.

As an initial matter, knowledge, for purposes of the TVPA, requires only that the defendant "'should have known' in the usual sense of negligence." … Molchonova's complaint alleges that, throughout its twenty-plus-year relationship with Epstein, FirstBank ignored considerable, publicly available information about Epstein and his close associates. As this Court previously explained with respect to a different bank, "while [FirstBank] was not required to automatically credit" these sources of information about Epstein, "the amended complaint plausibly asserts that the bank turned a blind eye to these repeated, detailed allegations, some emanating from police reports widely circulated in the press, by utterly failing to engage in due diligence about them."

Molchonova also alleges that there was significant FirstBank account activity that itself should have raised red flags. For instance, in 2018—after years of media and law enforcement reports describing Epstein as a sexual abuser and sex trafficker—FirstBank opened a bank account for one of Epstein's victims using the same address in the U.S. Virgin Islands as Epstein and his other related accounts. Likewise, Molchonova alleges with sufficient specificity that Epstein and his agents owned a network of FirstBank accounts including accounts for entities and properties that were publicly linked to Epstein's abuse and trafficking venture that received millions of dollars in transfers from other of Epstein's accounts. And, as emphasized above, the complaint plausibly alleges that FirstBank should have been aware of the laundry list of other banks that cut ties with Epstein in the decade preceding his death in 2019….

The third element of a TVPA participation claim is that a defendant must have benefited from its participation in a sex trafficking venture. This element can be satisfied by "allegations that [FirstBank] knowingly received revenue from its participation in generally assisting a venture that it knew, or should have known, involved sex trafficking."…

Molchonova's allegations easily satisfy this standard. She alleges that "Epstein only offered his business to FirstBank because it was knowingly aiding Epstein's sex trafficking operation and the concealment thereof. FirstBank knew that if it stopped aiding the operation, it would lose the Epstein-related accounts and the financial benefits attached to handling those accounts." She also alleges that "FirstBank financially benefitted in the form of profits, high-net-worth clients, and other financial incentives, for its participation in the Epstein sex-trafficking venture." These allegations plainly state that FirstBank profited from its longstanding and continuous relationship with Epstein, and plausibly proffer that Epstein would not have continued banking with FirstBank if it did not turn a blind eye to his use of FirstBank's services to facilitate his sex trafficking venture….

For similar reasons, the court also allowed Molchonova's claims under the New York City Gender-Motivated Violence Protection Act to proceed. But the court dismissed her claims "that FirstBank obstructed enforcement of the TVPA in violation of 18 U.S.C. §§ 1591(d) and 1595":

As this Court has previously concluded in a substantially similar case, "[b]ecause Congress enacted Section 1591(d) in 2008 and did not give that provision retroactive effect, the investigations that resulted in Epstein's 2006 guilty plea and his 2007 non-prosecution agreement there cannot support plaintiffs' claim for obstruction." Accordingly, the relevant inquiry for purposes of Molchonova's obstruction claim is whether she has alleged that FirstBank knew of a post-2008 effort to enforce the TVPA and intentionally obstructed, or attempted to obstruct, that enforcement effort. The Court concludes she has not….

The post Lawsuit Alleging Bank Played Role in Facilitating "Jeffrey Epstein's … Sex-Trafficking Operation" Can Go Forward appeared first on Reason Magazine.

Some excerpts from the long Third Circuit en banc opinion yesterday by Judge Stephanos Bibas in U.S. v. Bost (for another Third Circuit en banc case decided yesterday that reached the opposite result on different facts, see Second Amendment Rights Not Forfeited by Past Drunk Driving Conviction):

The right to keep and bear arms has limits, and this is one: Those who pose a risk of physical violence from misusing guns can be disarmed before that risk becomes a reality. Not every convict poses such a risk—but James Bost does. He pleaded guilty to terroristic threats and other crimes. Years later, police caught him with a pistol not once, but twice. So he was charged with having a gun despite his convictions, in violation of 18 U.S.C. § 922(g)(1), which makes it illegal for felons to have guns….

But Bost's violent conviction is prima facie enough to disarm him. We hold that some predicate crimes (like Bost's conviction for terroristic threats) demonstrate a prima facie risk of physical violence from misusing guns and that those convicted of such crimes may presumptively be disarmed based on those convictions alone….

In 2002, Bost carjacked someone, threatening to kill the driver unless she gave him money. To get that money, he drove to her mother's home, where she escaped from the car, screaming for help. Bost was then arrested and pleaded guilty to terroristic threats and criminal conspiracy (as well as false imprisonment and simple assault). Those first two Pennsylvania crimes are first-degree misdemeanors punishable by up to five years in prison. One element of the terroristic-threats crime required "a threat to commit any crime of violence with intent to terrorize another." Bost was sentenced to four years' probation.

Later, while on bail for another arrest, Bost failed to appear in court. U.S. Marshals tracked him down. They found him in his girlfriend's home, next to a couch with a stolen .38 caliber pistol on it. Bost was indicted federally for possessing a stolen gun and possessing a gun despite his convictions (based on the terroristic-threats and conspiracy convictions). He moved to dismiss the indictment, arguing that § 922(g)(1) [the federal bans on felons possessing guns -EV] is unconstitutional as applied to him and that it is facially unconstitutional….

The court held that the case against Bost could go forward:

The Second Amendment secures the right of "the people" to "keep and bear Arms." Since felons are part of "the people," the amendment protects what § 922(g)(1) forbids—a felon's having a gun. So the government must justify this restriction by analogizing to our nation's historical tradition of gun regulation….

Two years ago, we held § 922(g)(1) unconstitutional as applied to a man with a prior conviction for food-stamp fraud.. But we flagged a limit to our holding, stressing that the government had no evidence that Range posed a risk of violence to others or that his crime "[was] closely associated with physical danger." That aligned with the Supreme Court's later holding in Rahimi that, under a law banning such people from having guns, someone who poses "a clear threat of physical violence to another" person "may be disarmed." … So § 922(g)(1) is constitutional insofar as it disarms convicts who pose a risk of physical violence from misusing guns.

Now we ask … how may the law address a risk of violence[, focusing on] … the nature of the restriction imposed, the process used to impose it, and its duration….

Historically, there were two paths to disarming people. One was individualized: A court found someone to pose a risk of physical violence from misusing guns and disarmed him. The other was categorical: A law targeted a disloyal group that risked violence to the community. In those instances, a member of the group could often get his rights back by showing that he himself did not pose a risk of violence.

Individualized judgment was the norm. For centuries, disarmament was tied to a judge's finding that someone posed a risk of physical violence from misusing guns. Sometimes, that meant punishing risky behavior. Going-armed laws punished and disarmed those who used their weapons to menace others. Rooted in the old bans on affrays, they targeted conduct that spread fear and threatened the peace: going armed "to the Terror of the People." These laws were often enacted with bans on fighting, together targeting conduct likely to lead to violence.

Other laws, like surety laws, aimed to prevent harm before it happened. If someone credibly feared that another person posed a risk of physical violence, including by misusing his arms, he could complain to a magistrate. The magistrate would hold a hearing, weigh the evidence, and decide whether the accused was likely to breach the peace. If the risk was real, the accused had to post a bond promising to keep the peace for up to six months. If he failed to post it, he would go to jail; if he breached the peace, he would forfeit the bond. Either way, the restraint was tailored to the person's risk….

To be sure, some laws disarmed categories of people, but these examples are few, fraught, and often discriminatory. Most founding-era bans disarmed political enemies—groups thought capable of collective rebellion. These measures were tied to allegiance and often lifted once the perceived threat passed. Plus, many applied to groups that lawmakers refused to treat as part of "the people" protected by the Second Amendment, like slaves and American Indians. Both features meaningfully distinguish these historical bans from today's across-the-board ban on felons. Even so, their procedures for rearmament are instructive…. [R]earmament was not automatic. Often, the disarmed person had to make some showing that he no longer posed a risk of violence…. [This paragraph, and the section that contains it, got only 7 of the 14 total votes; Judge Tamika Montgomery-Reeves, who joined the rest of the opinion, declined to join this part because it "relies on repugnant and discriminatory laws and procedures that would very likely violate the First and Fourteenth Amendments of the U.S. Constitution…. I question whether the invidious, and likely unconstitutional, laws undergirding these rearmament procedures are valid inputs for Bruen's test. I need not answer that question, however, because less constitutionally infirm comparators support the same conclusion."]

Bost's Violent Conviction Suffices, at This Early Stage, to Show His Risk of Violence …

Some predicate crimes speak for themselves. Violent offenses, like common-law murder, forcible rape, and common-law robbery, mark a person as such. And the going-armed laws disarmed people whose conduct was threatening. These types of convictions suffice to justify disarmament. We do not require that the predicate violent or threatening crime itself involved guns or the threat of guns. Unarmed forcible rapes, for instance, can qualify.

Other predicate crimes speak for themselves in the other direction: They are not even physically dangerous, let alone violent.

There may perhaps be a third, intermediate category: Still other predicate crimes may be closer calls. Though they may not involve immediate violence, they may fuel it and pose risks to the community. Whether these predicate crimes justify disarmament depends on their own historical analogies.

So at either end of the spectrum, the predicate crime tells the court enough about the felon's risk of physical violence to decide whether to dismiss a § 922(g)(1) indictment. In the middle, it is possible that courts may have to draw more lines.

But if so, we need not draw them today. Bost was convicted of terroristic threats. The elements of that predicate crime included "a threat to commit any crime of violence with intent to terrorize another." … That conduct fits squarely within the historical tradition of disarming those who threaten violence. It echoes the core concern of the going-armed laws: conduct that terrifies others and breaches or risks breaching the peace. Bost's indictment is sufficient as a matter of law. And at this early stage, a court may dismiss only if the predicate conviction is insufficient as a matter of law to put the defendant into the category of persons who pose a risk of physical violence from misusing guns. We need not address what, if anything, could later take a defendant out of that category….

Judge Patty Schwartz wrote an opinion concurring in the judgment; so did Judge Jennifer Mascott. Judge Peter Phipps filed a dissenting opinion. All are worth reading, as is the rest of Judge Bibas's opinion.

Donovan J. Cocas, Laura S. Irwin, and Vivek Suri represent the government.

The post Second Amendment Rights Forfeited by Past Terroristic Threats Conviction appeared first on Reason Magazine.

I'm interviewed about this roughly at about 3:15 to 6:30 of this episode of PBS's Civics Made Easy series. Unfortunately, they couldn't include all my discussion of the historical support for my view, so I thought I'd reprise below an earlier post of mine on the subject.

* * *

The U.S. Is Both a Republic and a Democracy

Don't just take it from me; take it from the Framers and other early American statesmen: "Democracy" has long included representative democracy as well as direct democracy, and "Republic" was used to refer to regimes that were not representative.

[1.] I often hear people argue (often quite militantly) that the United States is a republic, not a democracy. But that's a false dichotomy. A common definition of "republic" is, to quote the American Heritage Dictionary, "A political order in which the supreme power lies in a body of citizens who are entitled to vote for officers and representatives responsible to them"—we are that. A common definition of "democracy" is, "Government by the people, exercised either directly or through elected representatives"—we are that, too.

The United States is not a direct democracy, in the sense of a country in which laws (and other government decisions) are made predominantly by majority vote. Some lawmaking is done this way, on the state and local levels, but it's only a tiny fraction of all lawmaking. But we are a representative democracy, which is a form of democracy.

[2.] And the same two meanings of "democracy" (sometimes direct democracy, sometimes popular self-government more generally) existed at the founding of the republic as well. Some framing-era commentators made arguments that distinguished "democracy" and "republic"; see, for instance, the Federalist (No. 10), as well as other numbers of the Federalist papers. But even in that era, "representative democracy" was understood as a form of democracy, alongside "pure democracy": John Adams used the term "representative democracy" in 1794; so did Noah Webster in 1785; so did St. George Tucker in his 1803 edition of Blackstone; so did Thomas Jefferson in 1815. Tucker's Blackstone likewise uses "democracy" to describe a representative democracy, even when the qualifier "representative" is omitted.

Likewise, James Wilson, one of the main drafters of the Constitution and one of the first Supreme Court justices, defended the Constitution in 1787 by speaking of the three forms of government being the "monarchical, aristocratical, and democratical," and said that in a democracy the sovereign power is "inherent in the people, and is either exercised by themselves or by their representatives." He added,

Of what description is the Constitution before us? In its principles, it is purely democratical ….

Chief Justice John Marshall—who helped lead the fight in the 1788 Virginia Convention for ratifying the U.S. Constitution—likewise defended the Constitution in that convention by describing it as implementing "democracy" (as opposed to "despotism"), and without the need to even add the qualifier "representative":

I conceive that the object of the discussion now before us is whether democracy or despotism be most eligible. I am sure that those who framed the system submitted to our investigation, and those who now support it, intend the establishment and security of the former.

The supporters of the Constitution claim the title of being firm friends of the liberty and the rights of mankind. They say that they consider it as the best means of protecting liberty. We, sir, idolize democracy. Those who oppose it have bestowed eulogiums on monarchy. We prefer this system to any monarchy because we are convinced that it has a greater tendency to secure our liberty and promote our happiness.

We admire it because we think it a well-regulated democracy: it is recommended to the good people of this country: they are, through us, to declare whether it be such a plan of government as will establish and secure their freedom.

Sir William Blackstone, who was much read and admired by the framers, likewise used "democracy" to include republics: "Baron Montesquieu lays it down, that luxury is necessary in monarchies, as in France; but ruinous to democracies, as in Holland. With regard therefore to England, whose government is compounded of both species, it may still be a dubious question, how far private luxury is a public evil …." Holland was of course a republic, and England was compounded of monarchy and government by elected representatives; Blackstone was thus labeling such government by elected representatives as a form of "democrac[y]."

The same is so today. America is a democracy, in that it's not a monarchy or a dictatorship. (Some people claim it is too oligarchic, in which case they'd say America isn't democratic enough—but again they'd be distinguishing democracy from oligarchy.) America is not a direct democracy, but a representative democracy is a form of democracy.

[3.] And the Framers didn't just refer to representative government as democratic—they referred to direct democracy as a republic.

One way to get at this is to ask: What is the first nation that you think of that the Framers would likely have called a "Republic"? What is the most famous historical Republic, indeed the one that gave us the word "Republic"?

Why, the Roman Republic, of course, which The Federalist and many others discussed as a republic. And yet in the Roman Republic, there was no representative legislature.

The Senate (which wasn't elected or representative) did have considerable interpretive and advisory authority, and the elected praetors could interpret the law in important ways. But the laws themselves were made by direct vote of the citizens (or just by the plebeians), in the comitia centuriata, the comitia tributa or the concilium plebis. (If someone suggests that the Senate was Rome's elected representative legislature, you can point out that it was not elected, not representative, and not a legislature.)

Roman lawmaking was thus direct lawmaking, though with a voting system that heavily favored the rich, not representative lawmaking. The laws had to be proposed by a magistrate, such as a consul or a tribune of the plebs, so it wasn't precisely like an American initiative. But the laws didn't have to first be passed by some elected legislative body first (again, remember that there were no elective legislative bodies); in principle, they just had to be proposed by one elected magistrate—such as one of the 10 tribunes of the plebs—and enacted by popular vote in the assembly. You can think of it as something between the modern American referendum and the modern American initiative. But it was direct popular lawmaking, not representative lawmaking.

And the Framers routinely called Rome a republic—indeed, they labeled Athens a republic, even though Golden Age Athens famously involved direct democracy. Hamilton in Federalist No. 6 states that "Sparta, Athens, Rome, and Carthage were all republics." Hamilton in Federalist No. 34 specifically talked about the Roman legislative assemblies, yet called Rome a republic. Federalist No. 63, generally attributed to Madison, labeled Rome as an example of a "long-lived republic." (Profs. Akhil Amar and Rob Natelson have written more extensively on this.)

[4.] Today, "republican" does tend to refer more to representative systems, but "democratic" often refers to following the will of the people, whether through direct democracy or representative democracy—the precise meaning differs depending on the context. If you're asking whether to do something by direct ballot or by representative processes, you might ask whether we should be more democratic or more republican. If you're asking whether China would be better off giving more power to Chinese voters, you might ask whether it should be more democratic or less democratic, quite apart from whether you think the democracy should be direct or representative.

To be sure, in addition to being a representative democracy, the United States is also a constitutional democracy, in which courts restrain in some measure the democratic will. And the United States is therefore also a constitutional republic. Indeed, the United States might be labeled a constitutional federal representative democracy.

But where one word is used, with all the oversimplification that this necessary entails, "democracy" and "republic" both work. Indeed, since direct democracy—again, a government in which all or most laws are made by direct popular vote—would be impractical given the number and complexity of laws that pretty much any state or national government is expected to enact, it's unsurprising that the qualifier "representative" would often be omitted. Practically speaking, representative democracy is the only democracy that's around at any state or national level. (State and even national referenda are sometimes used, but only for a very small part of the state's or nation's lawmaking.)

There are lots of arguments that could be had about how our system of government should be structured: whether it should be more or less or differently democratic; whether it should include more or fewer aspects of direct democracy; whether it should have more requirements for supermajoritarian action (such as constitutional constraints, or the filibuster, or what have you); which levels of government (federal, state, or local) should have more or less power; and much more. But claiming that we're a republic and not a democracy (or a democracy and not a republic) strikes me as inconsistent both with modern usage and with how the leading lights of the Framing Era and early Republic generally treated the terms.

The post America: Democracy or Republic? appeared first on Reason Magazine.

From yesterday's Third Circuit en banc opinion in Williams v. Attorney General, written by Judge Paul Matey (and citing, among others, our own Will Baude) ((for another Third Circuit en banc case decided yesterday that reached the opposite result on different facts, see Second Amendment Rights Forfeited by Past Terroristic Threats Conviction):

The Second Amendment is a primary protection against tyranny, a strong bulwark securing American liberty, and an indispensable means of defending the public good. So courts testing restrictions on these "most sacred" and "necessary" rights must consider the history and tradition of firearm regulations with care and rigor. Edward Williams had two convictions for driving under the influence of alcohol in the early 2000s, the second of which (unbeknownst to him) triggered 18 U.S.C. § 922(g)(1), which purports to make it "unlawful" for persons convicted of "a crime punishable by imprisonment for a term exceeding one year" to possess firearms. Seeking to restore his rights, Williams filed for a declaratory judgment to confirm that § 922(g)(1), as applied to him, runs afoul of the Second Amendment.

The court ruled in Williams' favor; here are some excerpts from the long opinion:

We start [the Second Amendment inquiry] by asking the regulator whether its proposed liberty definition (or restriction, though every definition has some contracting element) is consistent with tradition. In assessing the response, we look for a custom of similar definitions.

A definition fitting within common and longstanding firearm regulation helps the regulator because long acceptance evidences noninfringement of the right. In contrast, it is likely impossible to show equivalence when the challenged restriction applies to people, places, and things that have gone unregulated for most of America's existence. Time is essential, and a recent innovation must be weighed against our "Anglo-American common-law tradition." An enduring custom since the founding is all but dispositive—one would be hard-pressed to argue that a state can prohibit the purchase of a flintlock musket. The same framework applies with respect to permissible regulations of people: if a regulation was common throughout our history, that is strong evidence that it does not infringe the right.

That is not the case here given the novelty of forever restricting all felons from possessing firearms for lawful purposes. The Federal Firearms Act of 1938 first made it "unlawful" for "any person who has been convicted of a crime of violence or is a fugutive [sic] from justice" to possess a firearm. {A "crime of violence" was defined in the Act to mean "murder, manslaughter, rape, mayhem, kidnaping, burglary, housebreaking; assault with intent to kill, commit rape, or rob; assault with a dangerous weapon, or assault with intent to commit any offense punishable by imprisonment for more than one year."}

In 1961, Congress expanded this prohibition, abandoning a focus on violence in favor of a technical bar on any person convicted of a "crime punishable by imprisonment for a term exceeding one year." By this point, "a crime punishable by imprisonment for more than one year" was the common approximation for "felony." The late entrance of a regulation tying felonies to gun possession disproves any longstanding customary contraction of the liberty codified in the Second Amendment.

 Of course, common exclusions from society—which do not explicitly touch on arms-bearing—might sometimes, but not always, reveal that a regulation of an individual is consistent with the reasoning offered by the regulator. Take classic felonies like murder and rape, long punishable by death. Those statutes evidence a regulatory custom of indirect disarmament since a "sentence of death" left the person "already dead in law" and "out of its protection." So too when those same offenses resulted in life imprisonment, life servitude, or civil death. Punishments for crimes belonging to this unbroken custom were justly predicated on the protection of the community from prospective physical danger….

But the Justice Department's apparent attempt to broaden discrete crimes justly punished by death to include all felonies, much less all crimes punishable by more than one-year imprisonment, misses the point…. [T]he modern regulatory label of felony—a crime punishable by more than one year of imprisonment—is not even close to the proper "level of generality at which to define [the] historical practice." It captures conduct that would have commonly justified exclusion, and a host of less significant acts. So simply pointing to Williams's felony because it is labeled "felony" does not do.

We must move to a more granular comparison, assessing Williams's conduct against the Justice Department's proffered analogy…. Williams's predicate offense requires that the offender 1) "drive, operate or be in actual physical control of the movement of a vehicle" 2) "after imbibing a sufficient amount of alcohol such that the alcohol concentration in the individual's blood or breath is 0.16% or higher" and 3) "ha[ve] one prior [DUI] offense." This offense plainly does not contain threatening or violent elements. So we must turn to the Government's proffered analogues to determine if they allow us to infer that the restriction imposed by Williams's continued disarmament is consistent with the right codified by the Second Amendment.

The Department of Justice analogizes this conduct to laws "disarming loyalists, underage individuals, [ ] vagrants," "common drunkards," and "habitual drunkards." But only those laws restricting drunkards bear any resemblance to Williams's conduct, so we focus our analysis there. The first two elements of Williams's offense are a variation of public intoxication laws, customarily defined as the vice of drunkenness made public. The third element sweeps in proscriptions against being a "common" or "habitual" drunkard, i.e., the analogy on which the Justice Department rests its case. Some of those laws allowed for the involuntary commitment of habitual drunkards to prisons or inebriate asylums. Others allowed courts to place habitual drunkards under guardianship.

The Justice Department acknowledges it may proscribe Williams's possession of firearms only if he "presently poses a physical danger if armed," but offers no evidence to establish this as the aim of the habitual drunkard laws. Indeed, it provides no analysis on the "why" of these laws. And that silence has since been supplemented by the Supreme Court's conclusion that these same laws did not seek "to protect the public from violence so much as to protect habitual drunkards from themselves and their families from financial devastation."

Nor does the Justice Department explain "how" the habitual drunkard laws ameliorated the threat of firearm misuse in a way relevant to the operation of § 922(g)(1). As Bruen clarifies, "if earlier generations addressed the societal problem, but did so through materially different means, that … could be evidence that a modern regulation is unconstitutional." That is the case here, and why the analogy to the permanent bar in § 922(g)(1) breaks down.

Most statutes capped the commitment of habitual drunkards to the state inebriate asylum, prison, or hard labor to a few months or years. Others provided for an indefinite period of incarceration, but had no indication that upon release individuals continued to forfeit their arms. Rather, once someone was "safe" to "go at large," they were restored to the status of a full rights-bearing citizen.

Finally, the Justice Department fails to show that Williams threatens to "misuse[ ] a gun while intoxicated," or that he "poses a danger to himself or others as a result" of alcohol abuse. In fact, much like those nineteenth-century drunkards released from custody and restored their rights, the record shows that Williams poses no present physical danger from the use of a firearm, or anything else.

He has done nothing violent, let alone dangerous, for over twenty years, and has held steady employment at the same job for over three decades. He "no longer consume[s] alcohol, save for the occasional glass of wine with dinner or champagne at home on New Year's Eve with [his] family," testimony the Justice Department has not challenged. He has submitted to an expert examination, finding he "has a normal personality, without psychopathology and without addiction or violent tendencies." And there is nothing to suggest Williams has ever wielded firearms in a manner dangerous to peaceable persons, despite a lifetime of gun ownership. Williams is presently a peaceable citizen, capable of bearing arms consistent with the design of the Second Amendment….

Our Republic, like those before it, has long understood "how base it is to pour down more liquor than one can carry," and that "drunkenness is nothing but a condition of insanity purposely assumed." Driving under that condition no doubt exacerbates the fault of the wrongdoer. Williams's criminal conviction and sentence is consistent with our tradition because acts incongruous with the virtue necessary for enjoying the rights of our political community have always justified punishment and the corresponding loss of civic privileges.

But virtuous life is a perpetual project, with redemption and reentry into the community a constant promise. And with that rehabilitation comes restoration of the civic privileges guaranteed to citizens by the Constitution, and the freedom to again exercise the natural right of armed defense against threats and tyranny. For the reasons above, we will affirm the District Court's judgment granting Williams summary judgment.

There are other interesting matters in Chief Judge Michael Chagares's partial concurrence and partial dissent, in Judge Arianna Freeman's partial concurrence and partial dissent, in Judge Patty Schwartz's dissent, and in parts of the majority opinion I ddin't quote above. (The opinions also discuss the important and interesting question of whether and when the newly revivified statutory mechanism for getting relief from firearms disabilities, 18 U.S.C. § 925(c), should preclude plaintiffs from bringing direct challenges to the disability.) Here's an excerpt from the Freeman opinion:

I part ways from the majority opinion when it says a prior conviction is disarming on its face only if it involved violence or threats. To be sure, convictions that require violence or threats are disarming; … that is consistent with our Nation's historical tradition of firearm regulation. But so are other convictions that show a person poses a credible threat to the physical safety of others.

In United States v. Rahimi, the Supreme Court upheld a different federal firearm disability because it "presume[d] … that the Second Amendment right may only be burdened once a defendant has been found to pose a credible threat to the physical safety of others." And a prior conviction can encompass such a finding even if the conviction did not require violence or threats per se.

Such is the case here. Williams was convicted of "driv[ing], operat[ing] or be[ing] in actual physical control of the movement of a vehicle" after having consumed enough alcohol to put him at "[h]ighest rate of alcohol" proscribed by Pennsylvania DUI law. And he was convicted of doing so after he previously sustained a DUI conviction.

Williams's DUI conviction establishes that he controlled a vehicle while highly intoxicated, notwithstanding the obvious risks that his conduct could severely injure or kill others. In other words, he engaged in the dangerous use of "what can be a deadly weapon: a vehicle."

Because Williams's conviction shows that he "pose[d] a credible threat to the physical safety of others," the Second Amendment does not bar Williams's disarmament, at least for some period of time.

Williams's conviction also satisfies the narrower standard our Court announces today. The majority opinion asks whether the conduct at issue presents a risk of physical danger from the misuse of firearms. But we have acknowledged that a prior conviction can evince a risk of firearm misuse even if the conviction did not involve firearms. And Williams's dangerous misuse of one potentially deadly weapon (a motor vehicle) evinces a risk that he would dangerously misuse another potentially deadly weapon: a firearm….

Joshua Prince (Prince Law Offices, P.C.) and Dillon Harris (Civil Rights Defense Firm) represent Williams.

The post Second Amendment Rights Not Forfeited by Past Drunk Driving Conviction appeared first on Reason Magazine.

The verdict came Friday; here's the backstory, from a decision in March in Fox v. Nexstar Media Group, Inc. by Judge Robert Jonker (W.D. Mich.), allowing plaintiffs' claims to go forward:

These cases arise from the fallout over an internal memo that two senior news managers at WOOD‑TV—Amy Fox and Stanton Tang—either wrote or approved regarding coverage of Pride-month events. According to Fox and Tang, management initially agreed that the memo merely restated corporate policy, but after some colleagues misinterpreted the memo as being anti‑gay—and after the memo was leaked externally—management allegedly shifted its stance and planted news stories that portrayed Fox and Tang as anti‑gay. The plaintiffs contend Nexstar did this to cause Fox and Tang to absorb the blame for the controversy while allowing the company to emerge unscathed.

In early June of 2023, Stanton Tang began to feel concerned about WOOD-TV's coverage of Pride-related events. To him, it seemed that the newsroom's approach to Pride coverage differed from its approach to coverage of other events, such as women's history month or black history month.

As Tang tells it, when it came to the latter events, the newsroom tried to approach coverage in a unified way, to ensure that coverage was diversified, newsworthy, and spread throughout the month. However, when it came to Pride events, the newsroom was deviating from its typical editorial review process, and many reporters were beginning to go cover stories about Pride festivals as soon as they heard that the event was taking place—without discussing with the rest of the newsroom whether the story ought to be covered, whether it was duplicative of another story that had recently aired, or whether some unique aspect of the story could be explored in a way that highlighted the story's overall newsworthiness. Tang was also worried that the volume of Pride stories being covered by WOOD-TV news staff was alienating some of the station's more conservative viewers.

On the morning of June 13, 2023, Tang shared his concerns with his Assistant News Director, Amy Fox. He explained that he wanted to ensure that any Pride‑related reporting included appropriate historical context and that the newsroom was approaching the topic consistently. To address these concerns, he asked Fox to draft an email to the newsroom. Fox did so and then shared her proposed email with Tang. Tang added a few more lines to the email—including a directive for reporters to "get both sides of the issue" when covering Pride events—and told Fox to send the memo to all staff, which she did….

Many coworkers opposed the memo, and some leaked it to outside media outlets, which reached out to Nexstar for comment. Fox and Tang were eventually fired, and Nexstar released two statements that were then quoted by other media outlets:

[1.] Diversity, equity, and inclusion are among Nexstar's core values. Our local TV stations are expected to cover and report the news of the day in an expansive and inclusive fashion, consistent with these values. We're looking into the situation at WOOD-TV, as the communication regarding the station's coverage of PRIDE month activities in the area is not consistent with Nexstar's values, the way we cover the news, or the respect we have for our viewers. We will take appropriate action as necessary to address this situation, and apologize for offending members of the LGBTQ community and WOOD-TV's viewers….

[2.] We can confirm that WOOD-TV made changes to its newsroom leadership team to ensure its ability to continue providing outstanding local news coverage and service to the Grand Rapids community and surrounding area. As these are internal personnel decisions involving matters of personal privacy, we will decline further comment.

"Nexstar's communications director, Gary Weitman" also responded to media queries by saying, in response to a query about whether the firings were "a result of the investigation into the memo," "I think that's a fair assumption … but again not attributable."

The court concluded that Tang and Fox had adequately alleged that statements about them were untrue:

Nexstar's theory seems to be that the only potentially untrue statement that the plaintiffs can point to is Nexstar's statement that "the communication regarding the station's coverage of PRIDE month activities in the area is not consistent with Nexstar's values, the way we cover the news, or the respect we have for our viewers." However, according to Nexstar, there is no question about the truthfulness of this statement because Nexstar's corporate leadership team is the only group of people that can define what Nexstar's values are and because that leadership team has concluded that the memo was not in line with those values….

There are two problems with this theory. First, the record contains evidence from which a reasonable jury could conclude that some members of Nexstar's leadership team did believe the memo aligned with Nexstar's values. Most significantly, Julie Brinks—the plaintiffs' direct manager—indicated numerous times that she believed the memo was in line with Nexstar's journalistic standards, that it did not discriminate against anyone, and that it was being misinterpreted by some members of the news staff. Because Julie Brinks was the person responsible for conveying to the plaintiffs how WOOD-TV was supposed to report the news, a reasonable jury could find her beliefs about the memo and about Nexstar's values and policies especially relevant concerning the question of the statement's truthfulness.

More importantly, though, Nexstar's argument is also flawed because Nexstar fails to recognize that, under Michigan law, a literally true statement can still be actionable. Often, two true statements can be juxtaposed in such a way that they imply an idea that is false, which, under Michigan law, gives rise to a cause of action for defamation. See, e.g., Reighard v. ESPN, Inc. (Mich. App. 2022). Reighard offers a good example of how this type of defamation—often referred to as "defamation by implication"—typically occurs.

The plaintiff in Reighard was the head coach of the women's gymnastics team at Central Michigan University. On February 20, 2019, the university announced that Reighard had been placed on leave and that an investigation was under way. The university did not provide any details about the investigation or the reason for Reighard's leave. Still, an ESPN reporter who had previously authored a book about the Larry Nassar sex-abuse scandal tweeted about the university's announcement in a two-part twitter post. The reporter's first tweet read:

Michigan's attorney general announced today her office is taking over an investigation of John Geddert, the 2012 Olympic team head coach and close friend of Larry Nassar. Several gymnasts have publicly abused [sic] Geddert of physically and mentally harming them.

And his second tweet read:

On the same day as the AG's announcement, Central Michigan said it was putting longtime gymnastics coach Jerry Reighard on leave amid an internal review. No details of the review were shared, but Reighard has a long personal and professional relationship with Geddert.

Read together, the obvious message implied by the tweets is that Reighard was placed on leave in connection with the Nassar scandal. Because every statement contained in each tweet was literally true, however, the reporter saw no need for a retraction. So Reighard sued for defamation…. Because a reasonable jury could have found the tweets' implication—which is that there was a connection between Reighard's administrative leave and the Nassar scandal—to be both false and defamatory, the appellate court held that the claims should [be] allowed to proceed to trial.

The same principle is on display in Hawkins v. Mercy Health Servs., Inc. (Mich. App. 1998). In that case, … [a hospital press release about the death of a patient] stated that "[w]hile the patient was being cared for by two registered nurses and a physician, there appears to have been an inappropriate dosage of medication administered." It also reported that the patient had died. [A] second press release stated that the hospital had "instituted disciplinary action" and that, as a result, "one employee is no longer with the hospital."

The implication of these two press releases, Hawkins argued, is that she was terminated for providing incompetent care to a patient. [She was actually fired for lying about whether she had criticized the doctor in charge of the patient's care. -EV] And the Court of Appeals agreed. It held that a reasonable jury could have found that the implication of the hospital's statements was false even though each part of the statements—taken literally—was, in fact, true. Therefore, it was inappropriate for the trial court to have granted summary judgment to the defendants.

In addition to illustrating the principles underlying a defamation-by-implication claim, Hawkins also touches on another issue that is central to this case: the potential for employers to deflect bad publicity by casting blame on a scapegoated employee during a scandal.

In Hawkins, the hospital was facing intense public scrutiny once it became known that a patient had died after receiving the incorrect dose of medicine. To address that scrutiny, [a team of hospital executives and others] worked together to create a press release that would imply that the hospital had responded to the death by firing the employee who was responsible for it. Outside of that goal, there is no other logical reason to have included details about Hawkins's termination alongside a press release that was otherwise meant to address the patient's accidental death.

The case at hand bears noteworthy similarities to Hawkins. In both cases, the plaintiffs were former employees who alleged that their former employer had defamed them, and in both cases, the result of the defamation was that the company's brand was shielded from harm in the midst of public controversy. Moreover, in both cases, the defamatory statement occurred not because anything the respective employers published was literally untrue, but because of the implication that arose when two statements were placed alongside one another.

In the case at hand, Nexstar's first official statement indicated that the Pride-coverage memo was not consistent with Nexstar's values and that Nexstar would be "taking appropriate action as necessary to address the situation." The second official statement said that Nexstar made changes to the WOOD-TV newsroom leadership team in order to continue providing "outstanding local news coverage." And when a reporter from CNN reached out to ask Weitman whether Fox and Tang, specifically, had been fired as "a result of the investigation into the memo," Weitman responded by saying, "I think that's a fair assumption … but again not attributable."

Weitman later confirmed that it was a "good thing" that CNN was connecting the memo to the terminations of Fox and Tang. Based on this evidence, a reasonable jury could reach the conclusion that Nexstar was deliberately spreading the message that Fox and Tang are anti-gay in order to deflect public outrage away from the company and towards Fox and Tang.

Of course, whether the evidence in the case at hand is actually sufficient to establish that Nexstar did defame Fox and Tang in an attempt to protect its own brand is a question of fact for the jury to decide. The Court's only role, at this stage, is to determine whether a reasonable jury could return a verdict for Fox and Tang on this record. Having reviewed the record, the Court concludes that a reasonable jury could return such a verdict with respect to the defamation claims….

The case did go to a jury, and the jury concluded that defendants did not defame plaintiffs, presumably because the statements weren't sufficiently damaging to plaintiffs' reputations (the jury verdict forms weren't specific on the reason). But it concluded that defendants did place plaintiffs in a "false light," which requires a showing that the statements "were untrue and … would be highly offensive to a reasonable person," and that defendants knew the statements were untrue or were at least quite likely untrue. On that theory, Tang received $1.29M in compensatory damages plus $300K in punitives; Fox received $1.8M in compensatory damages plus $500K in punitives.

Tang and Fox also received $93K each for violations of Michigan's Employee Right-to-Know Act. That Act makes it illegal to "'divulge a disciplinary report, letter of reprimand, or other disciplinary action to a third party' without first providing the employee with written notice that such information is being shared"; plaintiffs alleged that Nexstar had "notif[ied] third-party news outlets about disciplinary action that was being taken against  Fox and Tang without first notifying them of such disclosures."

Nancy A. Temple (Katten & Temple LLP) represents Fox; Todd Knecht represents Tang.

The post TV Station News Managers Fired for Allegedly Anti-Gay Memo Win >$4M from Nexstar Media appeared first on Reason Magazine.

From Tate v. Fox News Network, LLC, decided yesterday by Judge Gregory Presnell (M.D. Fla.):

Plaintiff has been a licensed attorney in Florida since 2006 and serves as the president of the residential homeowners' association ("HOA") in the Stillwater Lakes Subdivision ("SLS") where he resides.

On April 14, 2024, Plaintiff was arrested by the Palm Bay Police Department ("PBPD") and charged with criminal mischief and grand theft. His arrest stemmed from a probable cause affidavit (the "Affidavit") which stated the following:

On 04/14/2024, I Ofc. Barraza #158 and FTO Marcum #244 responded to a suspicious incident at Stillwater Lakes. The incidence occurred on the south side of the lake in Stillwater Lakes Subdivision, belonging to the HOA, not the defendant.

There were 3 juveniles' victims that were fishing on the property. The juvenile victims stated a man, later identified as Kyle Patrick Tate (The defendant), approached them with a firearm telling them to get off his property. Kyle willfully deprived the juveniles of their property and threw it into the woods, damaging it. The property included:

• Fishing reels and rods: $1900
• Tackles boxes containing fishing lures: $150
• Cast nets: $150

In addition, Kyle took one of the juvenile's phones which remains unrecovered. (Approximately $1500)

Based on the above information Kyle did deprive the victims of their property by taking the cell phone, and willfully and maliciously damaged the fishing equipment (3 fishing poles, fishing tackle) he was placed under arrest for Criminal Mischief (above $1000) and Grand Theft. Kyle was taken into custody and later turned over to the Brevard County Jail.

On May 2, 2024, Defendants published an article reporting on the incident with the headline: "Florida HOA president pulls gun on kids fishing on property: affidavit." The article reported the details in the PBPD Affidavit, acknowledging that the children involved (which it identified as being aged 7, 10, and 15) did not live in the subdivision and that they were fishing on property that belonged to the HOA, not Plaintiff. It also included quotations regarding the incident from one of the children's (the 10-year-old's) mother[:] … "'A gun should've never been pulled on them,' said the mother of the 10-year-old-child, who asked not to be named in this article. 'It was startling. He's still super shaken up, knowing that on a daily basis we have to drive by this subdivision where this man lives.'" …

Later that day, Defendants' national network published a similar article before their local TV affiliate broadcast the story on its evening news program as a "DEVELOPING STORY" and "BIG STORY" (the "2024 Broadcast"). The broadcast displayed Plaintiff's booking photograph along with a chyron reading: "BOOKING IMAGE/ATTORNEY ACCUSED OF APPROACHING KIDS WITH GUN, THROWING STUFF INTO WOODS[.]"Another on-screen banner, which appears only during the broadcast video embedded on the article website, read: "HOA president pulls gun on kids: officials[.]"Some versions of this banner include the qualifier, "allegedly."

On June 17, 2024, the state attorneys' office filed a Notice of No Information, declining to pursue charges against Plaintiff over the SLS incident.. On October 6, 2025, Plaintiff's arrest and all associated court and arresting records were ordered expunged pursuant to Fla. Stat. § 943.0585 (which allows eligible individuals to petition a court to expunge criminal history records when charges are abandoned).

On April 3, 2026, Plaintiff served Defendants with statutorily-required pre-suit notice which identified his claim that their reporting was false and defamatory and demanded, among other redress, its retraction. In response to Plaintiff's notice, on April 10, 2026, Defendants broadcast a "STORY UPDATE" regarding Plaintiff's arrest and the SLS incident (the "2026 Broadcast"). In this update, Defendants referred to their original reporting and noted Plaintiff's April 3rd notice letter before acknowledging that, upon further research, the case had been expunged. They also noted that they had reached out to Plaintiff's attorney for further clarification but had received no response. The 2026 Broadcast did not mention the words "gun" or "firearm."

The FAC [First Amended Complaint] contends that Defendants' reporting in their published articles and in the 2024 Broadcast was inaccurate and defamatory because it repeated allegations that he was carrying a firearm despite the fact that he was not charged with any firearms-related offenses. Plaintiff argues that the only source for the firearm allegation was "a single Probable Cause Affidavit narrative attributed to the juvenile complainants and supporting no firearms charge." He likewise insists that the 2026 Broadcast "was inadequate as a corrective publication and was itself defamatory by implication and omission" because it did not include express reporting that there were no firearms charges involved and otherwise failed to correct deficiencies he perceived….

Defendants have "a qualified privilege to report accurately on information received from government officials." "The privilege extends to the publication of the contents of official documents, as long as the account is reasonably accurate and fair." A "report may be covered by the privilege even if it omits details or is not as precise as technical or scientific reporting." In [other] words, the press may exercise "editorial discretion in what to publish."

Plaintiff argues that Defendants are liable for defamation because they reported that he "pulled a gun" on three children in the 2024 Broadcast (and the associated published reporting), instead of using the Affidavit's language that he "approached them with a firearm" (despite acknowledging in the FAC that the articles do use those exact words in some places). He says that "[p]ointing or drawing a gun on a child" is conduct covered by aggravated assault crimes for which he was never charged. Indeed, Plaintiff avers that Defendants "knew th[is] difference" and deliberately reserved this terminology for the headlines and the 2024 Broadcast—presumably to attract attention (although he does not explain how their knowledge of the elements of an aggravated assault charge informed their diction). {This is but one of several indications that Plaintiff's brief is primarily the product of artificial intelligence. See also Doc. 46 at 4-5 (Plaintiff's one-paragraph "argument" about the fair report privilege is meaningless).}

Crucially, however, Plaintiff does not dispute (nor provide any alternative explanation for the fact) that he "approached" a 7, 10, and 15-year-old "with a firearm telling them to get off his property." Plaintiff acknowledges that he spoke to the children and has never denied that he was holding a firearm when he did so, he simply avers that he "did not approach any child in any improper, threatening, or predatory manner." But then, Defendants did not report that he did any of those things either—though the Affidavit would likely support such reporting. See Doc. 27-1 at 2 (describing a man approaching small children "victims" with a firearm to accuse them of trespassing while "willfully depriv[ing]" them of their property, throwing their fishing poles in the woods, and "maliciously damag[ing]" them). {Plaintiff's contention that young, unaccompanied children would not feel inherently threatened by a strange man approaching them with a firearm (pointed at them or not) has no basis in reality—particularly where the Affidavit describes that man as "maliciously" damaging those children's property. And the fact that the state of Florida declined to press charges against Plaintiff in no way serves as grounds to distort the undisputed facts.}

Not only was Defendants' reporting unquestionably an accurate and fair account of the facts described in the Affidavit, but it was important, newsworthy information of significant value to the local community. Plaintiff's attacks on the obvious applicability of the fair report privilege echo the frivolity of his FAC.

First, the "substance or gist" of Defendants' reporting plainly "conveys essentially the same meaning" as the information reported in the Affidavit. {No amount of argument from Plaintiff can change the fact that the Affidavit goes well beyond simply listing his charges; it tells a story—a story which was accurately reported by Defendants. Compare Doc. 27-1 (Affidavit stating that Plaintiff "approached [3 juveniles] with a firearm telling them to get off his property") to Doc. 46 at 18 ("That Mr. Tate was charged with theft offenses does not make true the headlines that he pulled a gun on children.").}

Second, Plaintiff's quibble with the plurality of the words, "officials" and "court docs," is not only substantively misguided (booking photos are indeed part of the "court documents" and the involvement of more than one official supports Defendants' use of the plural), but it is ultimately irrelevant to the fact that Defendants' reporting accurately reflected the official records. And finally, the inclusion of quotations from the mother of the 10-year-old victim has no impact on the applicability of the privilege here—particularly where her comments simply echo the Affidavit in her own words.

{Unsurprisingly, Plaintiff has no legal support for his frivolous contentions. His citation to Heekin v. CBS Broadcasting, Inc. (Fla. App. 2001), for the proposition that the inclusion of the mother's quotations defeated the privilege is exemplary. Not only was this case disapproved of by the Florida Supreme Court [in2 008], but the [Court of Appeal] only reversed the lower court's application of the fair reporting privilege because "there [wa]s nothing in the record to indicate that the trial court compared the broadcast at issue with the public records and found the broadcast to be an accurate description of the records as a matter of law." The Court here already found that Defendants' reporting accurately reflects the official records.

Moreover, it is clear that the mother's comments also accurately reflect the Affidavit—albeit with additional details (ie. the firearm with which Plaintiff approached the children was allegedly a shotgun—which Plaintiff does not contest). Her statement that "[a] gun should've never been pulled on them" merely echoes the Affidavit and provides additional support for the Court's earlier conclusion that Defendants' reporting was accurate. } …

Plaintiff's theory that the 2026 Broadcast was defamatory has even less merit. According to Plaintiff's Orwellian framework, the 2026 Broadcast (which aired solely because of his legal demands) is not covered by the fair report privilege because the Affidavit and original court records are now (again, at his request) "not available to any person or entity except upon order of a court of competent jurisdiction"—[i.e.,] that there is no longer any official record upon which to base Defendants' reporting (or the privilege).

Setting this dubious contention aside, Plaintiff forgets that this Court is of competent jurisdiction to order the divulgence of such records. That is not necessary here, however, because the Court has already seen the Affidavit (which is presently available to anyone else via this case's public docket) and it wholly supports the accuracy of Defendants' reporting. {Moreover, Plaintiff's public posting of the Affidavit with complete disregard for its privacy in this suit further undermines the sincerity and veracity of his claims.}

Having found that Defendants' initial reporting in 2024 was covered by the fair report privilege, they had no obligation to "correct" any inaccuracies in 2026. However, the update they provided honored Plaintiff's request to clarify that the criminal case against him "had been expunged" and that the State Attorney's office had no record of it. Moreover, the (accurate) short summary they provided of their 2-year-old original reporting to preface this new information cannot support a defamation claim simply because Plaintiff had the underlying official records expunged. This is particularly true where the records in question obviously still exist and are presently being publicly exhibited in this record.

{Again, Plaintiff's frivolous argument that Defendants created "an implication" by not explaining that Plaintiff specifically was not charged with or convicted of any firearm offenses is wholly without merit. The "implications" Plaintiff complains of arise only from his decision to handle a simple matter of young children fishing where (maybe) they were not supposed to be by approaching them with a firearm, demanding they leave his property, and—at least temporarily—commandeering and "maliciously" scattering (and damaging) their property.}

As Defendants recognized, "[i]n [Plaintiff's] view, if arrest records are eventually expunged, then a news organization retroactively loses the right to report information in the original arrest affidavit." Fortunately for society, Plaintiff's framework for retrospectively punishing news outlets is not the law. The relevant time for assessing applicability of the fair report privilege is the time of publication. Defendants said it succinctly: "[t]he fact that the state expunged [Plaintiff's] records more than a year after [Defendants] reported on his arrest does not retroactively give rise to a claim for defamation, which must be based on facts as they existed at the time of publication."

Plaintiff does not like the story relayed in the Affidavit, but Defendants' reporting on it was accurate and, therefore, protected by Florida's fair report privilege. Plaintiff's success convincing the state to expunge his record a year-and-a-half later has no effect on that conclusion or subsequent, accurate precis of that story….

I e-mailed plaintiff, who had the following comment on the matter:

I am disappointed with the dismissal. This case is about whether Fox fairly reported a police affidavit, not whether the affidavit's account of the incident was true.

I was arrested for criminal mischief and theft; there was no firearm charge. The State Attorney filed no charges, and the record was later expunged. The affidavit says the children told police I approached them with a firearm and told them to leave. It does not say I pointed or pulled a gun, and I didn't. My proposed amended complaint quotes broadcasts Fox filed with the court: an anchor said I was "accused of pointing a gun" at kids, and a reporter, relaying a mother's account, described a child running from a man "threatening him with a shotgun." Those statements convey a materially different accusation from the one in the affidavit. Fox's article and an on-screen caption, by contrast, used the affidavit's word, "approaching."

I dispute the arrest itself, and claims arising from it are being prepared separately. I didn't put my full account of that day into this case because this case doesn't turn on it. My complaint denies that I pulled, pointed, or threatened anyone with a gun; beyond that, the question here is what the affidavit says and whether Fox reported it accurately. The press can fairly report an affidavit even when the affidavit is wrong. What it can't do is attribute to the affidavit an accusation it doesn't make, as was done here.

I believe the court was wrong to conclude that Fox's reporting conveyed essentially the same meaning as the affidavit. The order never analyzed the broadcast statement that I was "accused of pointing a gun." And while it treated the shotgun as an added detail, it never addressed the broadcast's statement that I threatened a child with it. My opposition identified the broadcast statements, and my motion for leave sought to plead them expressly. The court found amendment futile and denied leave as moot. In describing the motion, it focused on the dispute over the proper Fox entity without explaining why the proposed broadcast allegations would not cure the claim.

I support the press's ability to report official records, but questions are raised about the privilege's limits that matter beyond my case:

First, how much latitude does the privilege allow? A report need not be exact. It must give "a substantially correct account" of the record. In Woodard v. Sunbeam Television Corp., 616 So. 2d 501, 502–03 (Fla. 3d DCA 1993), the court found a discrepancy immaterial because it "would not have had a different effect on the mind of the viewer." The order asked whether Fox's reporting conveyed "essentially the same meaning" as the affidavit, borrowing that phrase from Florida's substantial-truth instruction. See Jews for Jesus, Inc. v. Rapp, 997 So. 2d 1098, 1107–08 (Fla. 2008). In a footnote, it reasoned that children would feel threatened by a man approaching with a firearm, "pointed at them or not." That speaks to how the children may have felt. The fair report question is what viewers were told I did, and I think the difference between carrying a gun and pointing one at a child is exactly the kind that changes what a viewer believes happened.

Second, what does attribution protect? "Accused of pointing a gun" is framed as a report of an accusation. But no one accused me of pointing a gun: not the police, who charged criminal mischief and theft, and not the children, as the affidavit recounts what they said. Reporting that the children told police I approached with a firearm would be privileged. Reporting that I was accused of pointing one attributes to the record an accusation it doesn't contain. As early as 1965, in a case about a newspaper's report of a police offense report, a Florida appellate court held that a report may not go "further than a mere report of the news by making charges directly or by inference, insinuation, or assumption, that one is guilty of a crime." O'Neal v. Tribune Co., 176 So. 2d 535, 547 (Fla. 2d DCA 1965).

Third, does the privilege reach sources outside the record? The shotgun account came from a parent's interview, not the affidavit. A Florida appellate court has said that an interview, and a reporter's narration of it, "are not public records," so the privilege "would not apply" to them. Heekin v. CBS Broad., Inc., 789 So. 2d 355, 360 (Fla. 2d DCA 2001), disapproved on other grounds, Anderson v. Gannett Co., 994 So. 2d 1048, 1051 (Fla. 2008). Outside the privilege, repeating another's accusation is ordinarily treated as publishing it. Restatement (Second) of Torts § 578. The order instead found the interview consistent with the affidavit. If consistency with a record extends the privilege to non-record sources, fair report starts to become a truth defense under another name.

I will press forward to the Eleventh Circuit. I welcome any comments from you or your readers.

Deanna Kendall Shullman and Minch Minchin (Shullman Fugate PLLC) represent defendants.

UPDATE 10/14/2026 1:57 pm: Today, the court also held that defendants are entitled to have their attorney fees paid, under Florida's anti-SLAPP statute.

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From Judge Timothy Kelly (D.D.C.) today in CNN, Inc. v. Trump:

On September 18, 2026, President Trump posted on social media that he was "proud to announce that, effective immediately," he was "banning" CNN, MS NOW, and POLITICO "from the White House." And sure enough, when reporters from those news organizations who hold "hard passes" allowing them to work there showed up the next day, they were denied entry. So Plaintiffs—these three news outlets and three individual hard pass holders who work for them—promptly sued the President and several Executive Branch officials, alleging that Defendants were violating their rights under the Fifth and First Amendments. They also moved for a temporary restraining order restoring their hard passes, which the Court granted. The Court found, under Sherrill v. Knight, 569 F.2d 124, 130–31 (D.C. Cir. 1977) and subsequent precedent, that Plaintiffs were likely to succeed on their claims that their hard passes were revoked without due process required under the Fifth Amendment, were likely to suffer irreparable harm without interim relief, and that the balance of the equities and the public interest tilted in their favor.

Now before the Court is Plaintiffs' motion for a preliminary injunction. The Court will grant that motion as well, finding that Plaintiffs are likely to succeed not only on their due process claim, but also on their two First Amendment claims. Still, no one should interpret the Court's decision to suggest that President Trump's concerns about accuracy and fairness in the media's reporting are unfounded, or that the government is powerless when its true aim is to protect national security when classified information is unlawfully disclosed. That said, for the reasons explained below, the Court will extend the relief it already ordered, which will continue to preserve the status quo while this case proceeds.

Unlike the decision granting the temporary restraining order, which was based only on plaintiffs' Due Process Clause rights, this decision also rules in favor of plaintiffs on First Amendment grounds. An excerpt from the court's conclusion that the Administration likely unconstitutionally retaliated against plaintiffs based on their speech:

"[T]he First Amendment prohibits government officials from subjecting individuals to retaliatory actions after the fact for having engaged in protected speech." The government "may not deny a benefit to a person on a basis that infringes his constitutionally protected interests—especially, his interest in freedom of speech." And even "ordinarily permissible exercise[s] of discretion may become a constitutional deprivation if performed in retaliation for the exercise of a First Amendment right." …

[I]t is likely that President Trump's revocation of Plaintiffs' hard passes is the sort of action that would deter a reasonable reporter or news organization from publishing stories to which he objects. The revocation of Plaintiffs' hard passes matters a lot as to how, whether, and to what extent they can do their jobs. As Plaintiffs attest, a hard pass is crucial to covering the White House because it allows reporters "immediate, unescorted access to the areas of the White House complex designated for the press." Without hard passes, Plaintiffs would miss the newsworthy events that often happen at the White House with "little or no notice." Indeed, the effect on Plaintiffs' ability to do their jobs is so significant that in Sherrill and Karem [the key D.C. Circuit precedents as to hard passes and the Due Process Clause] the D.C. Circuit characterized the loss of a hard pass without adequate process as implicating a separate constitutional interest. And if a one-month suspension from the White House grounds is "an eon in today's news business," then it is likely that the open-ended ban here would chill a reporter's work.

President Trump's own comments suggest that he intended the revocation of Plaintiffs' hard passes to alter their reporting on him, bolstering the case that his action here is sufficient to deter a reporter of ordinary firmness from reporting in the same way she had before. After explaining that he excluded Plaintiffs from the White House because they "purposely write negative news … to try and diminish the Republicans and a Republican administration," President Trump remarked that he is prepared to take "the ban … as far as you can," but that he would "love it" if they "could straighten themselves out." …

Defendants also rely on an out-of-circuit case to argue that President Trump's decision to revoke Plaintiffs' hard passes and ban them from the White House grounds is insufficiently chilling to meet the second element of retaliation. In Baltimore Sun Co. v. Ehrlich (4th Cir. 2006), Maryland's governor prohibited anyone in that state's executive branch from speaking to a reporter and a columnist at a specific newspaper because his press office felt "that currently both are failing to objectively report on any issue dealing with [his] Administration." The Fourth Circuit found the directive at issue—which "select[ed] among reporters when granting interviews or providing access to nonpublic information"—"a pervasive feature of journalism" and "so commonplace" that to allow a retaliation claim to proceed would "plant the seed of a constitutional case in virtually every interchange." …

When President Trump first declared that he was "banning" Plaintiffs from the White House, he said he was doing so "as a result of their constant 'reporting' of 'FAKE NEWS.'" He wrote that Plaintiffs "shouldn't be able to constantly write or report FICTION and LIES when they're covering the President of the United States, the Trump Administration, or the United States of America." The next day, when asked about whether there was any "particular reason" for the ban, he responded: "No … it's really just cumulative stories over the last two years…. [T]hey purposely write negative news. And they do that because they want to try and diminish the Republicans and a Republican administration. And honestly, we've done a fantastic job. Look at the numbers, look at the economic numbers. We have more money coming into our country today than ever before." His posts on September 21 also focused on "Fake News," and how Plaintiffs had "trivialize[d]" and "demean[ed]" his accomplishments, including that he had won re-election in a "LANDSLIDE." His subsequent comments about the ban, including his interview with Time Magazine, again focused on his view that Plaintiffs had failed to give him proper credit for his achievements, including winning re-election in 2024. "If I do the finest thing, if I found the cure to cancer, they would say, 'Why didn't he move quicker?" …

Defendants respond by arguing that, notwithstanding President Trump's other grievances with them, Plaintiffs have failed to show causation because President Trump or some other official "would have reached the same decision … even in the absence of the protected conduct." Defendants argue that their "alternative ground" for revoking Plaintiffs hard passes is Plaintiffs' failure to "maintain minimum professional journalistic standards by publishing classified and national security information." …

[But f]irst, there is no evidence in the record that President Trump made the decision to revoke Plaintiffs' hard passes on national security grounds from the get-go, nor at any time has he directly stated that national security was the reason for his decision. When he announced the ban with his post on September 18, he did not mention national security. When he was asked later that day about the "particular reason" for his action, he did not mention national security. And while it is true, days later, that he used the phrase "national security" in subsequent social media posts about the ban, that expression appears to have been simply another way for him to describe Plaintiffs' alleged inaccuracies and unfairness in their reporting about topics like his achievements or electoral success. All this suggests that "national security" was merely a post-hoc justification for the decision, which greatly undermines the idea that President Trump "would have"—not "could have"—taken the same action in the absence of Plaintiffs' protected speech, even if it is not dispositive on that point.

Second, Defendants point to the September 22 letters sent to Plaintiffs as evidence that President Trump or another official would have taken the same action for national security reasons, even apart from Plaintiffs' protected speech. Those letters, sent four days after the ban was announced, lay out a case for revoking Plaintiffs' hard passes based on alleged violations of "the standards of professionalism and decorum expected of those given access to the White House Complex," including "trafficking in verifiable falsehoods about national security and other issues," and "publishing sensitive or classified information." But the letters hardly move the needle on this point. The letters appear to conflate concerns about otherwise protected speech ("trafficking in verifiable falsehoods about … other issues") with national security concerns….

Third, Defendants try to make their case with each of the September 22 letters' "non-exhaustive list of reporting incidents," associated with each news organization, "including those that have threatened national security and/or spread falsehoods." They also rely on the Declaration of Kingsley Wilson, Press Secretary for the Department of Defense, now also known as the Department of War. These too come up short for Defendants' purposes.

In the Declaration, Wilson lays out how the publication of classified and sensitive information can undermine national security. She describes how the Department of War decided to make a change in how reporters access the Pentagon to try to combat the publication of such information. She also describes how, in her view, that policy—whatever its details (they are never spelled out)—has been successful. The problem is that Wilson's declaration says little to nothing about President Trump's decision to revoke Plaintiffs' hard passes, or anything about White House press practices or operations. Wilson states that "it is reasonable" to expect similar results from the White House's implementation of a similar policy, but she does not purport to know much about the White House or the President's decision here. Thus, it matters little that even if, after discussions with people who work there, she thinks that the decision "would be effective in reducing the amount of information that is published that undermines national security." She also attests—in conclusory fashion—that based on three reporting incidents memorialized in the September 22 letters, the three media organizations here have demonstrated a "willingness" to publish sensitive information relating to national security—and more specifically, the security of the White House, the President, and other senior officials. But she offers no further specifics.

Viewed in light of the whole record, neither the September 22 letters nor the Wilson Declaration suggest that President Trump would have revoked Plaintiffs' hard passes and banned them from the White House even in the absence of the sort of reporting about him that he criticized when he announced the ban. They do not suggest that a ban based on national security concerns was in the works before President Trump made his announcement.

The "reporting incidents" described in the letters stretch as far back as a year and a half. And to repeat, one of the reporters here had her hard pass renewed six months after publishing a story in January 2026 titled "Inside Plans to Rebuild the 'Top-Secret' Bunker Beneath the White House East Wing." Moreover, even accepting Defendants' claims that these incidents damaged national security in some way—a proposition that, as discussed below, they have not really tried to support with evidence here—such reporting is commonplace, for better or worse. Finally, it seems likely that if President Trump or another official would have banned Plaintiffs from the White House even in the absence of their protected speech, Defendants would not have had to scramble to make their case with unsigned letters and a declarant who does not even work there.

As the Supreme Court explained in considering the government's explanation in a different context, the Court is "not required to exhibit a naiveté from which ordinary citizens are free." Freed from such a naiveté, it is not hard to conclude that President Trump likely banned Plaintiffs from the White House because he believes that their reporting is generally inaccurate and biased against him. For that reason, all told, Plaintiffs are likely to succeed on their First Amendment retaliation claim.

And for similar reasons, the court also concluded that the Administration's actions were likely unconstitutional viewpoint discrimination in a nonpublic forum (a conclusion that is consistent, I think, with the D.C. Circuit's precedents on the matter):

For all the reasons explained elsewhere, it is likely that Plaintiffs were selected by President Trump for revocation of their access to the White House press area because he believes their coverage of him and his administration is generally inaccurate and biased—in other words, it was "an effort to suppress the speaker's activity due to disagreement with the speaker's view"—rather than to vindicate any other purportedly "compelling governmental interest," including maintaining professional standards for journalists or protecting national security.

Ted Boutrous, Katie Townsend, Patrick J. Fuster, Connor S. Sullivan, and Connor P. Mui  (Gibson, Dunn & Crutcher LLP) represent the media.

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From Rockett v. Eighmy, decided today by Eighth Circuit Judge David Stras, joined by Judges Bobby Shepherd and Jane Kelly:

When Judge Eric Eighmy had courthouse officers lock two children in holding cells because they refused to leave with their mother following a custody hearing, he violated their clearly established Fourth Amendment rights….

Bart Rockett and Kami Ballard divorced in Missouri, but initially stayed together to give their two kids, who were "aspiring stars," a chance to "make it big" in Los Angeles.  The children found some success in the entertainment industry, including appearing on America's Got Talent, but their parents eventually split up.

Ballard filed a petition for sole custody that landed on Judge Eighmy's desk. During a hearing several months later, the children waited outside the courtroom while their parents tried to work it out. They agreed on primary custody for Ballard, with Rockett responsible for them at the beginning of each month and "during TV pilot season."

Once the hearing was over, however, neither child was willing to leave with her. With an argument unfolding in the lobby of the courthouse, Judge Eighmy walked over, introduced himself to the children, and told them to follow him to a conference room. Once there, he informed them that they had no choice but to leave with her. A youth counselor then reinforced the point by telling them that they "ha[d] to listen to the judge." The children would not budge, even after the judge mentioned that the other option was foster care.

Frustrated, Judge Eighmy had the children follow him again, this time to a waiting area in the courthouse's juvenile division. Once there, he told someone to "[k]eep an eye on" them to "make sure they [did not] go anywhere." After disappearing for a few minutes, he led them down a hallway to two holding cells. A second threat to place them in foster care made no difference, so he had a juvenile officer "lock them up." Before they entered the cells, the officer patted them down and ordered them to remove their socks and shoes. Judge Eighmy stood by as the officer locked the doors behind them.

With the children in their separate holding cells, Judge Eighmy took a seat in a nearby office. After what "felt like forever," the officer opened the cell doors for Judge Eighmy, who asked them one more time whether they would leave with their mother. This time, they both nodded yes, so he let them go. From start to finish, the time spent in the holding-cell area was between twenty and forty minutes.

Following these events, Rockett sued in federal district court for, among other things, a violation of the children's Fourth Amendment rights…. [T]he jury awarded the children $5,000 each on their Fourth Amendment claims. From there, the district court declined to reduce the verdict and added $326,637.22 in attorney fees….

The procedural posture is a bit complicated, but the court denied both judicial immunity (based on an earlier panel decision on the issue) and qualified immunity:

Judge Eighmy violated the Fourth Amendment only if he seized the children and did so unreasonably. Locking the children up after the custody hearing was both….

Not every seizure … violates the Fourth Amendment. To the contrary, "[ ]reasonable" ones, like lawful arrests supported by probable cause, do not. But here, Judge Eighmy did not have "probable cause to believe that [the children had] committed" an offense, much less one that justified placing them in a holding cell. Rather, their only misdeed was one every parent knows well: resisting authority. Even in the context of legal-custody proceedings, refusing to leave with a parent is not a jailable offense. Nor were there "exigent circumstances" arising out of danger to themselves or others.

We have no doubt that Judge Eighmy believed he was acting in "good faith," and possibly even in the children's best interests, by detaining them. But good faith in the Fourth Amendment context is about reasonable reliance, either on binding appellate precedent or a warrant issued by a "neutral magistrate." Neither was present here. No case allows a judge to detain children in a holding cell when they refuse to leave with a parent. And a custody plan is no substitute for a warrant. In short, rough justice does not trump the Constitution….

The law in this area was also "clearly established." "[I]t would have been sufficiently clear [to] every reasonable official," Judge Eighmy included, that locking up two children for refusing to follow directions violated the Fourth Amendment. As we put it over a decade and a half ago, long before the events in this case, "[i]t is clearly established that a warrantless arrest, unsupported by probable cause, violates the Fourth Amendment." …

A reasonable judge should have known better. As we said the first time around [i.e., the first time the case went up on appeal], criminal contempt was off the table because the children were neither parties to the custody case nor present inside the courtroom. Nor could the power to punish a party for violating an injunction have provided the justification, given that Judge Eighmy never issued one….

And here's an excerpt from the 2023 decision denying judicial immunity (a separate question from qualified immunity):

Judicial immunity has been around a long time. See Yates v. Lansing (N.Y. Sup. Ct. 1810) ("The doctrine which holds a judge exempt from a civil suit or indictment, for any act done, or omitted to be done by him, sitting as judge, has a deep root in the common law."), aff'd (N.Y. 1811). In England, it served to insulate common-law judges on the King's courts from their rivals on other courts.

One of the earliest known examples involved a judge who presided over a murder trial. After it ended, he was dragged into a rival court and charged with conspiracy for his role. The prosecution ended, however, when the court recognized that the judge was "immune from prosecution … for [his] judicial act[]." …

As broad as the rule seemed to be, two exceptions narrowed its scope. The first was that judges could still be prosecuted for out-of-court "conspirac[ies]." That is, like any other citizen, judges could be haled into court for any illegal acts they committed outside the courtroom. The second was that, when judges "exceeded their authority" by considering a matter "not within their jurisdiction," their actions were … "without jurisdiction." Acting without "power and authority" eliminated the shield of judicial immunity.

As judicial rivalries began to wane, including in the American colonies, the power-and-authority rationale for judicial immunity did too. The focus shifted to protecting judicial independence: allowing judges "to act upon [their] own convictions, without apprehension of personal consequences." See Pierson v. Ray (1967) (explaining that judges "should not have to fear that unsatisfied litigants may hound [them] with litigation charging malice or corruption").

Judicial immunity continues to apply today, not only in prosecutions …, but in civil-rights actions brought under 42 U.S.C. § 1983…. The exceptions remain largely the same too. Judicial immunity can be "overcome in only two sets of circumstances": (1) when a judge takes "nonjudicial actions"; and (2) when the action is judicial, but is done "in the complete absence of all jurisdiction." …

On one end of the spectrum [of judicial action to nonjudicial action], the classic example of a judicial act is "resolving disputes between parties who have invoked the jurisdiction of a court." Other related acts qualify too, like holding litigants "in contempt," and issuing "search warrant[s]."

But those acts also have their limits. There is no doubt, for example, that judges can "direct[] police officers to bring counsel in a pending case before the court," but they cannot order the officers to beat them with their nightsticks along the way. Nor can judges wake up one day and decide to spontaneously issue a search warrant against a nosy neighbor or a political rival.

Like these examples, Judge Eighmy's decision to personally escort the kids to jail took what would otherwise be a judicial act too far. Judges have the authority to order an officer or a bailiff to escort an unruly litigant to jail. They can also pull the parties into a conference room to discuss what just happened in court.

Judge Eighmy crossed the line, however, when he personally escorted the kids to jail, stood there while they removed their clothes and belongings, and personally came back an hour later to release them. For one thing, the children were not even present in the courtroom, so he could not hold them in contempt for "[d]isorderly, contemptuous or insolent behavior." For another, judges do not do double duty as jailers. So even assuming Judge Eighmy could have ordered someone else to take the kids to jail, he could not put them there himself.

It is no answer that Judge Eighmy believes he was exercising his contempt power. To be sure, absolute immunity is available for judges who hold a litigant in contempt even when they are "not in [their] … robes, … no[r] in the courtroom itself." But here, the children were never parties, they never stepped foot in the courtroom, and Judge Eighmy personally locked them up himself. We have been unable to find any case that extends judicial immunity so far.

Judge Eighmy fares no better with his other argument: that Missouri law allows judges to enforce child-welfare statutes informally. Without question, police officers can take children into custody if they are behaving in a way "injurious to [their] welfare or to the welfare of others." But not judges, who can only order others to "[t]ake charge of children before and after" a juvenile hearing. The point is that judicial immunity is unavailable because what Judge Eighmy did is not "a function normally performed by a judge." …

Thanks to James Creigh for the pointer.

The post No Immunity for Judge Who Locked Children in Holding Cells in Custody Case appeared first on Reason Magazine.

Our peer-reviewed Journal of Free Speech Law, which is now five years old, has published over 150 articles, including by Jack Balkin (Yale), Mark Lemley (Stanford), Jane Ginsburg (Columbia), Philip Hamburger (Columbia), Christopher Yoo (Penn), Stuart Benjamin (Duke), Andrew Koppelman (Northwestern), and many others—both prominent figures in the field and emerging young scholars, including ones who didn't have a tenure-track academic appointment. (This list doesn't include our reprinting others' symposia, which have also included many other top scholars, such as Robert Post, Mark Tushnet, Geoffrey Stone, Lee Bollinger, Jeremy Waldron, Danielle Citron, Genevieve Lakier, and more.)

The articles have been cited so far in 11 court cases, over 2000 articles (using Google Scholar counts), and at least 100 briefs. And note that all the articles have only had five years or less to attract these citations.

I expect that many authors are planning to submit articles on free speech to the usual law reviews when the submission cycle restarts in August. But if you submit exclusively to us before that, we will give you an answer within 14 days; and then if you'd like to have it published quickly, we can publish it in within a few months, if it's sufficiently clean and cite-checked by your research assistant. This means your article can be published by us, if it's accepted, almost a year (or more) before it would be published by the law journals.

Of course, also please pass this along to friends or colleagues who you think might be interested. Note that the submissions don't compete for a limited number of slots in an issue or volume; we'll publish articles that satisfy our quality standards whenever we get them.

All submissions must be exclusive to us, but, again, you'll have an answer within 14 days, so you'll be able to submit elsewhere if we say no. Please submit an anonymized draft, together with at https://freespeechlaw.scholasticahq.com/. A few guidelines:

• Instead of a cover letter, please submit at most one page (and preferably just a paragraph or two) explaining how your article is novel. If there is a particular way of showing that (e.g., it's the first article to discuss how case X and doctrine Y interact), please let us know.
• Please submit articles single-spaced, in a proportionally spaced font.
• Please make sure that the Introduction quickly and clearly explains the main claims you are making.
• Please avoid extended background sections reciting familiar Supreme Court precedents or other well-known matters. We prefer articles that get right down to the novel material (if necessary, quickly explaining the necessary legal principles as they go).
• Each article should be as short as possible, and as long as necessary.
• Like everyone else, we like simple, clear, engaging writing.
• We are open to student-written work, and we evaluate it under the same standards applicable to work written by others.

We publish:

1. Articles that say something we don't already know.
2. Articles with all sorts of approaches: doctrinal, theoretical, historical, empirical, or otherwise.
3. Articles dealing with speech, press, assembly, petition, or expression more broadly.
4. Generally not articles purely focused on the Free Exercise Clause or Establishment Clause, except if they also substantially discuss religious speech.
5. Articles about the First Amendment, state constitutional free speech provisions, federal and state statutes, common-law rules, and regulations protecting or restricting speech, or private organizations' speech regulations.
6. Articles about U.S. law, foreign law, comparative law, or international law.
7. Both big, ambitious work and narrower material.
8. Articles that are useful to the academy, to the bench, or to the bar (or if possible, to all three).
9. Articles arguing for broader speech protection, narrower speech protection, or anything else.

The post Submit Your Articles to the Journal of Free Speech Law, Before You Circulate Them to the Law Reviews appeared first on Reason Magazine.