Robert A. Pratt, The Conscience of Virginia: Judge Robert R. Merhige, Jr., and the Politics of School Desegregation, 52 U. Rich. L. Rev. Online 29 (2017).
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Robert A. Pratt *
The United States Supreme Court’s 1954 landmark decision in Brown v. Board of Education declared that segregation in public education violated the Fourteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution.[1] For the millions of African Americans who had endured decades of separate and unequal schooling, this decision was a resounding reaffirmation of the nation’s commitment to equal justice under the law. But those who expected segregated schools to end overnight were in for a rude awakening. The National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (“NAACP”), which had led the legal assault against segregation since its founding in 1909, was encouraged by the Court’s ruling. But its attorneys would soon realize that their initial optimism had been premature and that they had greatly underestimated white southern resistance. Perhaps few could have predicted that it would take nearly twenty years before school desegregation would begin in earnest in the states of the former Confederacy—and only then because of the determined actions of a few courageous judges willing to place principle above prejudice. Judge Robert R. Merhige, Jr., of Virginia was one of them.
A native of New York, Judge Merhige studied at High Point College in North Carolina before attending the University of Richmond’s T.C. Williams School of Law in 1942. After serving in the Army Air Corps during World War II, Judge Merhige returned to Richmond where he began practicing criminal law. On July 17, 1967, President Lyndon B. Johnson appointed Judge Merhige to the United States District Court for the Eastern District of Virginia. Judge Merhige would be involved with many cases during his more than thirty years on the bench, but it was his controversial rulings on school desegregation that would come to define his career and shape his judicial legacy.[2]
For most of the Deep South, the Supreme Court’s ruling in the Brown decision had not only been ignored, but had been met with fierce and determined opposition that became known as “Massive Resistance,” in which Virginia had taken the lead.[3] In his fiery editorials, James J. Kilpatrick of the Richmond News Leader constantly railed against the evils of integrated classrooms, a position strongly reinforced by the Commonwealth’s powerful political establishment often referred to as the “Byrd Organization.”[4] Yet, the steely determination of Virginia’s NAACP attorneys, led by Oliver W. Hill, Samuel W. Tucker, and Henry L. Marsh, meant that the issue of school desegregation would continue to be pressed in the federal courts, forcing some judges, such as Judge C. Sterling Hutcheson, to resign from the bench rather than enforce the Brown decision.[5] Even after “Massive Resistance” had ended, southern school districts continued to resist, substituting token compliance for outright resistance. By creating such schemes as pupil placement boards and freedom of choice plans, southern school districts gave the appearance of acting in good faith when in reality, school segregation remained as firmly entrenched as ever. By the mid-1960s, Virginia’s Pupil Placement Board, which had assigned only a handful of black students to white schools and no white students to black schools, had finally been exposed for what it was.
In 1968, the United States Supreme Court ruled in Green v. New Kent County that the county’s freedom of choice plan did not constitute adequate compliance with the school board’s responsibility to end segregated schools and that the school board would have to devise other plans that would produce meaningful desegregation.[6] During the era of “Massive Resistance,” rural Farmville, Virginia in Prince Edward County had gained national attention by closing its schools for nearly five years rather than integrate.[7] By the early 1970s, however, the focus would shift to Richmond’s public schools, which symbolized one of Virginia’s best examples of the failures of token compliance.
The public schools in the City of Richmond (the “City”) were among the most segregated in the Commonwealth of Virginia, and the school board had been under court order to create a unitary school system since the early 1960s.[8] On March 10, 1970, attorneys for the African-American plaintiffs in Richmond’s ongoing lawsuit filed a motion for further relief in light of the Supreme Court’s recent opinion in Green.[9] They argued that the City’s freedom of choice plan, in effect for four years, had failed to convert the public schools into a non-segregated, unitary system.[10] Enrollment figures validated their assertion: As of May 1, 1970, Richmond’s public school system enrolled approximately 52,000 students. Of the seven high schools, three were 100% black; one was 99.3% white; one was 92% white; one was 81% white; and one was 68% black. Of the nine middle schools, two were 100% black, one was 99.9% black, and three ranged from 88% black to 69% black. Three other middle schools were 91%, 97%, and 98% white. In forty-four elementary schools, seventeen were 100% black; four others were over 99% black; one was 78% black; two were 100% white; thirteen others were at least 90% white; two were roughly 86% white; and five were between 53% and 70% white. The figures for faculty and staff showed even less integration.[11] The evidence was compelling: freedom of choice had failed to produce a unitary school system in Richmond.[12] United States District Court Judge Robert R. Merhige, Jr., would have to rule on the feasibility of any future desegregation plans offered by the school board.
The Richmond School Board responded by proposing a couple of new plans that it claimed would produce better results, but Judge Merhige rejected the plans, saying in effect that Richmond’s history of residential segregation would make it difficult, if not impossible, to achieve acceptable levels of desegregation.[13] Judge Merhige wrote that:
[I]n spite of the lifting of public discriminatory practices as a result of the repeal of White supremacy laws, congressional action and judicial pronouncements, no real hope for the dismantling of dual school systems appears to be in the offing unless and until there is a dismantling of the all Black residential areas.[14]
Judge Merhige reasoned that if residential segregation was the major impediment to school desegregation, only a plan that could bridge the neighborhood gap would have any chance of success.[15] Searching for some viable alternatives to the City’s failed plans of the past, Judge Merhige was keenly aware of a school desegregation case in North Carolina that was currently before the United States Supreme Court.
On April 20, 1971, in the case of Swann v. Charlotte-Mecklenburg Board of Education, the United States Supreme Court ruled unanimously that school districts could use busing to help achieve desegregation.[16] The Court’s rationale, which mirrored Judge Merhige’s own thinking, was that given the nation’s long history of residential segregation, busing was an appropriate remedy for the problem of racial imbalance in the public schools.[17] As early as January 1971, Judge Merhige had ruled that the level of desegregation achieved in Richmond’s schools was “less than remarkable” and that “further delays in affording the plaintiffs what these defendants owe them under the Constitution . . . cannot be justified either by precedent or by practicality.”[18] Judge Merhige continued, “The Constitution is satisfied only when an integration plan ‘works’ in practice and not merely on paper.”[19]
On April 5, 1971, fifteen days before the Supreme Court’s decision in Swann, Judge Merhige ordered into effect a new desegregation plan that provided for pupil and faculty reassignments and free city-wide transportation in the City of Richmond.[20] The new plan stipulated that the school board would have to assign pupils so that the ratio of black to white in each school would be based on the city-wide ratio for the groups; teacher assignments were to be made in a similar manner.[21] Of far greater significance, though, was Judge Merhige’s decision to extend busing to all pupils within the City, including kindergarten and elementary school students.[22] Judge Merhige’s decision had effectively ended seventeen years of legal maneuvers and shenanigans, and the City was now on the fast track to end its segregated school system. But while many applauded Judge Merhige’s decision, not everyone saw this as a time for celebration.
Judge Merhige’s desegregation plan set off an immediate series of protests by white parents and parent-teacher associations across the City.[23] For example, the day after Judge Merhige announced his busing plan, nearly two hundred parents and area residents met to express their desire to return to freedom of choice, withdraw their children from the schools in protest, and even amend the United States Constitution to curb federal judicial power. Others suggested contacting their elected state and federal representatives to urge the removal of those officials who “do not meet the needs and wishes of the people.”[24] Even the Supreme Court’s affirmation of Judge Merhige’s decision did little to quiet the City’s anti-busing forces who were determined that their children would not be bused.[25]
In addition to the negative views expressed by many white parents on the subject of busing (perceptions that were stoked by two of Richmond’s daily newspapers which frequently printed articles and letters citing the alleged genetic inferiority and immorality of blacks), demographics further complicated Judge Merhige’s busing plan. Decades of white migration to the suburbs and black migration to the City had produced what some began to refer to as the “chocolate city vanilla suburbs” phenomenon, as the City of Richmond was surrounded by the overwhelming white Counties of Chesterfield and Henrico.[26] And while the desire for better economic opportunities was perhaps a primary motivation for both migrations, it is apparent that the furor over the City’s busing plan clearly served as a catalyst for white residents leaving the City, especially as the earlier trickle turned into a fast-flowing stream in the early 1970s.[27] In a 1975 article, two University of Richmond professors noted the extent to which “white flight” had contributed to resegregation within the Richmond metropolitan area:
While the overall population figures have decreased in Richmond and increased in the counties, the percentage of blacks in each jurisdiction has changed inversely. Containment of blacks within Richmond, rather than significant black immigration, accounted for the increased percentage of blacks in the city. Although black immigration exceeds emigration . . . the primary factor responsible for the increased proportion of blacks [within the city] is continual white emigration.”[28]
With fewer white students in Richmond’s public schools, Judge Merhige’s desegregation plan for the City would yield few positive results.
Within six months of Judge Merhige’s busing decree, black plaintiffs and their attorneys were back in court to demand that Richmond’s school system be merged with those of Chesterfield and Henrico counties.[29] Arguing that the Commonwealth had an obligation to eliminate school segregation, and that desegregation could never happen so long as the city schools remained predominantly black and the county schools overwhelmingly white, the plaintiffs proposed a city-county merger where Richmond’s public schools, a 43,000-pupil system that was seventy percent black, would be consolidated with Chesterfield and Henrico, each of which had a student population that was over ninety percent white.[30] The result would be a single 104,000-pupil unit that would be one-third black.[31]
On January 10, 1972, Judge Merhige handed down his opinion agreeing with the plaintiffs and ordering the merger.[32] Judge Merhige noted the Commonwealth’s long history of residential segregation, as well as its complicity in maintaining and perpetuating segregated schools; therefore, the Commonwealth was obliged to create the remedy.[33] As for the actual merger itself, Judge Merhige opined:
The proof here overwhelmingly establishes that the school division lines between Richmond and the counties here coincide with no natural obstacles to speak of and do in fact work to confine blacks on a consistent, wholesale basis within the city . . . . For [these] reasons . . . it is adjudged and ordered that [the governing bodies of Henrico, Chesterfield, and Richmond] . . . take all steps and perform all acts necessary to create a single school division.[34]
Judge Merhige’s decision sent shock waves throughout the entire metropolitan area and across the Commonwealth. As expected, officials and residents of both counties were outraged and vowed to appeal the ruling. Some referred to the decision as “personal opinions disguised as law,” while others threatened to abandon the public schools entirely if the decision was not overturned.[35] Both of Richmond’s major dailies also denounced the ruling, with the Richmond Times-Dispatch calling it “the pernicious gibberish of those social engineers who argue . . . that a school system’s primary function is to promote racial togetherness. . . .”[36] Thousands of white students took to the streets, waving anti-busing signs in protest, while many teachers threatened to resign.[37] A week after Judge Merhige’s decision, several thousand county residents, riding in a 3261-car motorcade traveled from Richmond to Washington, D.C., to denounce the ruling.[38] Not surprisingly, the battle lines had formed mainly along racial lines, with most blacks supporting the ruling and most whites in fierce opposition.[39]
The personal repercussions for the judge were immediate. Overnight, a once venerated jurist had become persona non grata, and for the next few years, Judge Merhige and his family endured what seemed like a never-ending nightmare. As hostility to the merger intensified, Judge Merhige became a prime target of abuse. He received a barrage of hate mail, obscene phone calls, and life insurance policies.[40] Threats to his and his family’s lives were constant and common, which prompted authorities to station federal marshals at his home for almost two years.[41] The following note sent to the judge was typical:
Look—You Dirty Bastard, We are sick of you Federal Judges playing God. Your knowledge of the law is zero minus a million—your left-wing ideology aid [sic] the malcontents to bring this country into revolution. It would be a good idea to look under [the] hood of your car before starting it. Think about it. You son of a bitch.[42]
In a 1987 interview, Judge Merhige became emotional when discussing what he and his family had to endure during that time.
My family and I went through hell. . . . I remember that at one time there were eleven [federal marshals] living on my property, twenty-four hours a day. They went to school with my son, went to the grocery store with my wife, and they went everywhere with me. The marshals were truly afraid for me, although I was always more concerned about my family. My dog was shot. Our guesthouse, where my then seventy-five year old mother-in-law lived, was burned to the ground. Every other week or so we received a cryptic letter warning that our son Mark would never live to see age twenty-one. I was burned in effigy, spat upon, and occasionally insulted by people who would deliberately walk out of restaurants whenever my wife and I entered. At times it got awfully depressing. But I did what I did not only because it was the law, but also because I believed it was right. And for that, I have no regrets.[43]
The furor over Judge Merhige’s controversial desegregation plan proved to be short-lived. On June 5, 1972, the Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals, in a 5-1 decision, overturned Judge Merhige’s ruling, holding in effect that a district judge did not have the authority to compel any state or locality to rearrange its political boundaries to help facilitate school desegregation.[44] On appeal, the United States Supreme Court split 4-4 on whether to review the case (with Justice Powell recusing himself),[45] thereby leaving the Fourth Circuit’s ruling in effect.[46] In 1974, the United States Supreme Court would settle the issue definitively in a similar case in Michigan, where a federal judge had ordered the heavily black schools of Detroit to merge with the surrounding white suburban schools.[47] In a 5-4 decision (this time, Justice Powell in the majority), the Court reached the same conclusion that the Fourth Circuit had in the Richmond case.[48] Coming twenty years after Brown, the case of Milliken v. Bradley marked the Court’s first major retreat from school desegregation.[49]
In his long and distinguished career on the federal bench, Judge Robert R. Merhige, Jr., rendered many important decisions on a wide range of issues. Yet, he will always be best remembered for his rulings on school desegregation in Richmond, Virginia. Indeed, as the years have passed and anger has abated, some of his staunchest critics have come to respect his courage and determination in the face of persistent hostility and threats to his and his family’s personal safety. During the early 1970s, Judge Merhige was perhaps the most hated man in Virginia, but his commitment to equal justice under the law has earned him a place alongside the likes of Judges J. Waties Waring, John Minor Wisdom, Richard Taylor Rives, and Frank M. Johnson, who placed dedication to the United States Constitution above politics, popular sentiment, or “southern tradition.” For most of the 1970s, Judge Merhige was a prophet without honor in his own country, but during a critical time in our nation’s history, he was, in a true sense, the conscience of Virginia.
* Robert A. Pratt is Professor of History at the University of Georgia. He is the author of The Color of Their Skin: Education and Race in Richmond, Virginia, 1954–89; We Shall Not be Moved: The Desegregation of the University of Georgia; and Selma’s Bloody Sunday: Protest, Voting Rights, and the Struggle for Racial Equality.
[1]. Brown v. Bd. of Educ., 347 U.S. 483, 495 (1954).
[2]. See generally Ronald J. Bacigal, May It Please the Court: A Biography of Judge Robert R. Merhige, Jr. (1992) (giving a detailed discussion of the life of Judge Merhige).
[3]. Brown at 60: The Southern Manifesto and “Massive Resistance” to Brown, NAACP Legal Defense Fund, www.naacpldf.org/brown-at-60-southern-manifesto-and-massive-resistance-brown (last visited Sept. 27, 2017).
[4]. Adam Bernstein, James J. Kilpatrick, 89, Dies; Conservative Columnist Formerly on ‘60 Minutes’, Wash. Post (Aug. 17, 2010), www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/ article/2010/08/16/AR2010081602555.html; Byrd Organization, Encyclopedia Va., https: //www.encyclopediavirginia.org/Byrd_Organization (last visited Sept. 27, 2017).
[5]. See Robert R. Merhige, Jr., A Judge Remembers Richmond in the Post-Brown Years, 49 Wash. & Lee L. Rev. 23, 24 (1992).
[6]. Green v. Cty. Sch. Bd. of New Kent, 391 U.S. 430, 441–42 (1968).
[7]. The Closing of Prince Edward County’s Schools, Va. Hist. Soc’y, http://www.va historical.org/collections-and-resources/virginia-history-explorer/civil-rights-movement-vir ginia/closing-prince (last visited Sept. 27, 2017).
[8]. See generally Green, 391 U.S. 430 (recounting the history of noncompliance to desegregate Virginia schools).
[9]. Gary C. Leedes & James M. O’Fallon, School Desegregation in Richmond: A Case History, 10 U. Rich. L. Rev. 1, 15 (1975).
[10]. See Bradley v. Sch. Bd. of Richmond, 317 F. Supp. 555, 558 (E.D. Va. 1970).
[11]. Id. at 560 (providing all of the above statistics).
[12]. See generally Robert A. Pratt, The Color of Their Skin: Education and Race in Richmond, Virginia 1954–89 (1992) (describing the history of school segregation in Richmond).
[13]. Bradley, 317 F. Supp. at 566.
[14]. Id.
[15]. See id.
[16]. Swann v. Charlotte-Mecklenburg Bd. of Educ., 402 U.S. 1, 30 (1971).
[17]. Id. at 14, 29–30.
[18]. Bradley v. Sch. Bd. of Richmond, 325 F. Supp. 828, 831, 834 (E.D. Va. 1971).
[19]. Id. at 847.
[20]. Leedes & O’Fallon, supra note 9, at 18–20, 34.
[21]. Id. at 19–20.
[22]. See id. at 20.
[23]. Pratt, supra note 12, at 57–58.
[24]. Id.
[25]. Id. at 58.
[26]. See Reynolds Farley et al., “Chocolate City, Vanilla Suburbs:” Will the Trend Toward Racially Separate Communities Continue?, 7 Soc. Sci. Res. 319, 320 (1978); Leedes & O’Fallon, supra note 9, at 22–23.
[27]. See Leedes & O’Fallon, supra note 9, at 23.
[28]. Id. at 22 (emphasis added); see also John V. Moeser & Rutledge M. Dennis, The Politics of Annexation: Oligarchic Power in a Southern City (1982) (discussing Richmond’s 1970 annexation of portions of Chesterfield County); James A. Sartain & Rutledge M. Dennis, Richmond, Virginia: Massive Resistance Without Violence, in Community Politics and Educational Change: Ten School Systems Under Court Order 208-36 (Charles V. Willie & Susan L. Greenblatt eds., 1981) (discussing the desegregation process in Richmond, Virginia); Leedes & O’Fallon, supra note 9, at 29.
[29]. See Bradley v. Sch. Bd. of City of Richmond, 338 F. Supp. 67 (E.D. Va. 1972); Pratt, supra note 12, at 64.
[30]. Pratt, supra note 12, at 64–65.
[31]. Id.
[32]. Bradley, 338 F. Supp. at 244–45.
[33]. Id. at 94–96.
[34]. Id. at 84, 244, 245.
[35]. See Pratt, supra note 12, at 67.
[36]. Id. at 68.
[37]. Id. at 67.
[38]. Id. at 68.
[39]. See id. at 71.
[40]. Id. at 69.
[41]. Id.
[42]. Id.
[43]. Id. (quoting an April 1987 interview with Judge Merhige).
[44]. See Bradley v. Sch. Bd. of Richmond, 462 F.2d 1058, 1060 (4th Cir. 1972).
[45]. Justice Lewis F. Powell was a native Virginian and had served as chairman of Richmond’s School Board from 1952 until 1961. See Linda Greenhouse, Lewis Powell, Crucial Centrist Justice, Dies at 90, N.Y. Times (Aug. 26, 1998), http://www.nytimes.com/1998 /08/26/us/lewis-powell-crucial-centrist-justice-dies-at-90.html?mcubz=0.
[46]. See Sch. Bd. of Richmond v. State Bd. of Educ. of Va., 414 U.S. 884 (1973).
[47]. See Milliken v. Bradley, 418 U.S. 717 (1974); Pratt, supra note 12, at 83.
[48]. See Milliken, 418 U.S. at 721-22, 752-53.
[49]. See id. at 752-53.
Wayne A. Logan, The Honorable Robert R. Merhige, Jr.: A Judge Ahead of His Time, 52 U. Rich. L. Rev. Online 23 (2017).
Click here to download PDF.
Wayne A. Logan *
When one thinks about it, it is really quite incredible: a Brooklyn-born son of Lebanese and Irish immigrants with a distinct New York accent, standing well under six feet tall, attends a small North Carolina college on a basketball scholarship; serves with distinction in a bombing squadron in World War II; graduates from the University of Richmond School of Law (paying his way by serving as a night librarian); excels at the practice of law in a city (Richmond) not renowned for its receptivity to Yankees; wins election as president of the city’s Bar; and upon being appointed to the federal bench, serves with distinction for thirty-one years, addressing some of the most controversial legal issues of his time with a skill, energy, and workhorse determination unknown to most mortals.[1]
During his time on the bench, of course, Judge Robert R. Merhige, Jr., (“The Judge” to his clerks and extended court family) came to enjoy considerable national renown, not only for being a progenitor of the Eastern District of Virginia’s “rocket docket” and his expeditious resolution of cases when sitting on assignment,[2] but also for landmark litigation, including the antitrust case involving Westinghouse uranium price-fixing litigation, the Dalkon Shield settlement, and events such as the Wounded Knee uprising, Watergate, the Klan/Nazi-Communist Party violence in Greensboro, North Carolina, and the desegregation of Virginia’s public schools.
Here, however, I would like to address a perhaps lesser-known and lower-profile aspect of the Judge’s illustrious tenure on the bench: his criminal case docket. During his thirty-one years on the bench, Judge Merhige handled countless criminal matters. Using dispensed justice as a measure of the magnitude of his work, my instinct is that criminal cases, more than civil, constituted the lion’s share of the Judge’s direct human impact. Indeed, the Judge’s frequent sitting-by-designation was often fueled by the need to redress massively backlogged federal criminal dockets. Moreover, it is often overlooked that the Judge, before his appointment to the federal bench by President Johnson in 1967, was regarded as one of Virginia’s premier criminal defense lawyers, handling over two hundred homicide cases during his twenty-one years as a lawyer, with none of his clients receiving the death penalty.[3] He was, by dint of his extensive trial experience, known by counsel coming before him as a “lawyer’s judge,” sensitized to the demands, constraints, and strategies of trial lawyers. And he did his job with a wit and charm that kept lawyers on their toes and provided many with stories they would later recount with relish.[4]
The Judge’s criminal cases encompassed a broad range of varied matters, including prison reform litigation and substantive law. In those realms, the Judge made significant jurisprudential contributions.[5] In preparing this essay, I spent considerable time on Westlaw reviewing cases involving the Judge. Of course, the work of a federal trial judge overwhelmingly involves orders and memoranda that, despite being the grist and substance of justice dispensed, typically do not make their way into the published or reported oeuvre of the federal judiciary.
One particular case reported in Westlaw did, however, catch my attention. Although the Judge, when sitting by designation on an appellate court, often shied away from fracturing a panel otherwise consisting of resident judges or writing separately to make a point, United States v. Kyllo[6] was an exception. In Kyllo, federal agents, acting without a search warrant, used a thermal imager to scan the exterior of Kyllo’s home, which revealed differential heat patterns that possibly indicated high intensity interior lights used to grow marijuana. The readings, along with other information secured by law enforcement, were used to obtain a search warrant of Kyllo’s house, which revealed a marijuana growing operation.[7]
After some procedural wrangling, the trial court eventually backed the government’s warrantless thermal scan, which presented the Judge’s panel (also consisting of Judges Hawkins and Noonan) with a question of first impression in the Ninth Circuit: whether a thermal scan qualifies as a search under the Fourth Amendment, requiring a search warrant.[8] Applying the Katz two-part test,[9] Judge Merhige, writing for himself and Judge Noonan, concluded that Kyllo possessed “a subjective expectation of privacy that activities conducted within his home would be private.”[10] In doing so, the Judge rejected the position of four other circuits that held that the scan simply revealed non-private “waste heat” emanating from the house.[11] With regard to the second part of the Katz test, again rejecting the position of other circuits,[12] the Judge wrote that Kyllo’s subjective expectation of privacy was objectively reasonable because the imager revealed details “sufficiently ‘intimate’ to give rise to a Fourth Amendment violation.”[13] Citing a prior Tenth Circuit decision on the question (later vacated on other grounds),[14] Judge Merhige concluded that:
It is not disputed whether the [imager] could reveal details such as intimate activities in a bedroom. . . . Even assuming that the [imager used], apparently a relatively unsophisticated thermal imager, is unable to reveal such intimate details, technology improves at a rapid pace, and much more powerful and sophisticated thermal imagers are being developed which are increasingly able to reveal the intimacies that we have heretofore trusted take place in private absent a valid search warrant legitimizing their observation.[15]
Moreover, even if the imager did not reveal intimate details such as sexual activity, the Judge reasoned that it could reveal a range of other activities such as the “use of showers and bathtubs, ovens, washers and dryers, and any other household appliance that emits heat. . . . Even the routine and trivial activities conducted in our homes are sufficiently ‘intimate’ as to give rise to Fourth Amendment violation if observed by law enforcement without a warrant.”[16] Because use of the imager by law enforcement qualified as a search, the matter was remanded to determine whether other information, exclusive of the improperly obtained thermal images, established probable cause to issue a warrant.[17]
Judge Hawkins dissented, concluding that “the thermal imaging device employed . . . intruded into nothing,” and urged the panel to “follow the lead of our sister circuits and hold that the use of thermal imaging technology does not constitute a search under contemporary Fourth Amendment standards.”[18]
The government thereafter successfully petitioned for rehearing, Judge Merhige’s opinion was withdrawn, and in its place came a decision reaching the opposite result, authored by Judge Hawkins.[19] Siding with all other circuits that to that point had definitively resolved the question,[20] Judge Hawkins, writing for himself and Judge Brunetti[21] (Judge Noonan, siding with Judge Merhige’s opinion in the earlier iteration, was on the new panel but dissented),[22] concluded that “[w]hatever the ‘Star Wars’ capabilities this technology may possess in the abstract, the thermal imaging device employed here intruded into nothing.”[23]
Certiorari was thereafter successfully sought, and the Supreme Court ultimately reversed by a 5-4 vote.[24] In a clear vindication of Judge Merhige’s original opinion, using strikingly similar language, Justice Scalia wrote for the majority that Kyllo possessed a reasonable expectation of privacy regarding “the interior of [his] home” because “[i]n the home, . . . all details are intimate details, because the entire area is held safe from prying government eyes.”[25] Taking the “long view,” similar to Judge Merhige, the Kyllo majority opinion expressed concern that citizens would otherwise be placed “at the mercy of advancing technology—including imaging technology that could discern all human activity in the home. While the technology used in the present case was relatively crude, the rule we adopt must take account of more sophisticated systems that are already in use or in development.”[26] The majority, however, closed by adding an additional requirement that the device in question must not be in “general public use” for Fourth Amendment privacy protection to attach,[27] a highly problematic standard justifiably condemned by the four-member dissenting opinion authored by Justice Stevens. As noted by the dissent, the protection “dissipates as soon as the relevant technology is ‘in general public use’ . . . ,” a standard that “is somewhat perverse because it seems likely that the threat to privacy will grow, rather than recede, as the use of intrusive equipment becomes more readily available.”[28] Indeed, today, Kyllo likely would come out differently because of the widespread public use of thermal imaging devices.[29]
If only the Supreme Court had left well enough alone and followed Judge Merhige’s simpler and more constrained view. That the Judge should opine in such enlightened fashion on a matter involving technological advancement is a rich irony: I recall many times when he expressed frustration and wonder at not being able to operate devices (a deficiency I share). The larger point, however, is that the Judge in Kyllo, as he did so many other times in his illustrious career on the bench, sagely anticipated the future arc of justice. On critically important issues such as workers’ rights,[30] gender discrimination,[31] consensual homosexual sodomy,[32] as well as the difficulties presented by excess prosecutorial authority vis-à-vis plea bargaining[33] and the life-altering effect of collateral consequences,[34] he was a jurist ahead of his time. And for that, the nation’s jurisprudence—and the citizens that secure liberty and protection from it—are in Judge Merhige’s debt.
* Gary & Sallyn Pajcic Professor of Law, Florida State University College of Law. Law Clerk to the Honorable Robert R. Merhige, Jr., 1992–1993. Thanks to Barbara Kaplan for her able research assistance and Anna Logan for her expert editorial help.
[1]. See generally Ronald J. Bacigal, May It Please the Court: A Biography of Judge Robert R. Merhige, Jr. (1992) (describing the life and accomplishments of Judge Merhige).
[2]. Unlike many colleagues on the bench who relished assignments in pleasure spots such as the Virgin Islands, Judge Merhige took all comers in need of help, including, during my clerkship, the Northern District of Iowa (Cedar Rapids in February!) and the Northern District of West Virginia (Martinsburg). For me, the judicial forays, which could last for weeks at a time, were especially enjoyable, as they allowed for extended time with the Judge (and of course with court reporter Gil Halasz and clerk of court Rob Walker) after hours.
[3]. Bacigal, supra note 1, at 24.
[4]. I was on the receiving end of this on my first day on the job when one of the parties in a case asked in open court for a continuance. The Judge, without missing a beat, feigned ignorance about the term’s definition and directed me to retrieve a Black’s Law Dictionary. After I quickly located a copy in chambers, I returned to the courtroom to see a twinkle in the Judge’s eye indicating that I had joined the ranks of prior neophyte clerks by being the target of one of his favorite jokes. See also, e.g., Michael W. Smith, Remembering Judge Merhige, 40 U. Rich. L. Rev. 29, 31 (2005) (recounting the story of a young lawyer appearing before the Judge, who “[r]ather than cut [the attorney] off, belittle him, or shatter his confidence . . . remarked: ‘I know you think that I am missing your point, but for $54,000 a year, you don’t get John Marshall’”).
[5]. See, e.g., United States v. Baird, 29 F.3d 647, 654 (D.C. Cir. 1994) (citing United States v. Barker, 546 F.2d 940 (D.C. Cir. 1976) (Merhige, J., sitting by designation) (articulating influential standard regarding defense of official misstatement of the law)); Giarratano v. Murray, 668 F. Supp. 511, 517 (E.D. Va. 1986), rev’d, 836 F.2d 1421 (4th Cir.), aff’d on reh’g, 847 F.2d 1118 (4th Cir. 1988) (en banc), rev’d, 492 U.S. 1 (1989) (holding that the Commonwealth of Virginia must provide its death row inmates counsel in habeas corpus proceedings); Landman v. Royster, 333 F. Supp. 621, 647 (E.D. Va. 1971) (holding unconstitutional, on Eighth Amendment grounds, the treatment of inmates in a Virginia prison system). The Judge also presided over the criminal trial of Allied Chemical Corporation (“Allied”) for the extensive environmental damage to the James River caused by its pesticide Kepone, resulting in what was then the largest criminal fine for water pollution ever assessed. The Judge, after imposing the maximum penalty, offered Allied a creative alternative to simple payment of the fine to the federal treasury: he allowed a reduction in the fine if Allied agreed to fund an $8 million endowment to improve the environment. Bacigal, supra note 1, at 116.
[6]. 140 F.3d 1249 (9th Cir. 1998), withdrawn, 184 F.3d 1059 (9th Cir. 1999).
[7]. Id. at 1251.
[8]. Id. at 1252.
[9]. Katz v. United States, 389 U.S. 347, 361 (1967) (Harlan, J., concurring).
[10]. Kyllo, 140 F.3d at 1253.
[11]. Id. The cases were: United States v. Robinson, 62 F.3d 1325, 1328–29 (11th Cir. 1995); United States v. Ishmael, 48 F.3d 850, 854, 857 (5th Cir.), petition for reh’g denied, 53 F.3d 1283 (5th Cir. 1995), cert. denied, 516 U.S. 818 (1995); United States v. Myers, 46 F.3d 668, 669–70 (7th Cir. 1995); United States v. Pinson, 24 F.3d 1056, 1058 (8th Cir. 1994). But see United States v. Cusumano, 67 F.3d 1497, 1502 (10th Cir. 1995), vacated on other grounds, 83 F.3d 1247 (10th Cir. 1996).
[12]. Kyllo, 140 F.3d at 1253–54 (citing Robinson, 62 F.3d at 1330; Ishmael, 48 F.3d at 855–56; Myers, 46 F.3d at 669–70; Pinson, 24 F.3d at 1059).
[13]. Id. at 1254.
[14]. Id. (citing Cusumano, 67 F.3d at 1504).
[15]. Id.
[16]. Id. at 1255.
[17]. See id.
[18]. Id. (Hawkins, J., dissenting).
[19]. See United States v. Kyllo, 190 F.3d 1041, 1045 n.6 (9th Cir. 1999) (panel consisting of Hawkins, Noonan, and Brunetti, J.J.) (“We note that a previously filed disposition of this appeal was withdrawn.”).
[20]. As noted above, the Tenth Circuit in United States v. Cusumano, 67 F.3d 1497 (10th Cir. 1995), concluded that use of a thermal imager constituted a search, but the decision was vacated on rehearing en banc on another basis without reaching the question. See United States v. Cusumano, 83 F.3d 1247 (10th Cir. 1996) (en banc).
[21]. See Kyllo, 190 F.3d at 1043 n.1 (“Judge Brunetti has been drawn to replace the Honorable Robert R. Merhige, Jr., Senior United States District Judge for the Eastern District of Virginia, in this case.”).
[22]. See id. at 1047 (Noonan, J., dissenting).
[23]. Id. at 1046.
[24]. Kyllo v. United States, 533 U.S. 27, 41 (2001).
[25]. Id. at 34, 37. With characteristically colorful language, Justice Scalia offered that the thermal imager “might disclose, for example, at what hour each night the lady of the house takes her daily sauna and bath—a detail that many would consider ‘intimate’ . . . .” Id. at 38.
[26]. Id. at 35–36, 40.
[27]. Id. at 40.
[28]. Id. at 47 (Stevens, J., dissenting).
[29]. This is evidenced by a simple query of “thermal imaging device” on Amazon.com.
[30]. See Cohen v. Chesterfield Cty. Sch. Bd., 326 F. Supp. 1159 (E.D. Va. 1971) (holding unconstitutional a Chesterfield County school policy prohibiting teachers from working past their fifth month of pregnancy).
[31]. See Gilbert v. Gen. Elec. Co., 375 F. Supp. 367 (E.D. Va. 1974) (holding that an employer’s practice of excluding sickness and accident benefits from pregnancy related disabilities was unlawful sex discrimination).
[32]. Doe v. Commonwealth’s Attorney for City of Richmond, 403 F. Supp. 1199 (E.D. Va. 1975) (Merhige, J., dissenting) (disagreeing with the majority opinion’s view that a statute making sodomy a crime was constitutional).
[33]. See National College of Criminal Defense Lawyers Holds First Institute, 14 Crim. L. Rep. (BNA) 2001, 2326 (1973) (citing the Honorable Robert R. Merhige, Jr.) (“[M]any federal charges are multiplied for bargaining purposes. For instance . . . one bad social security check can lead to 10 federal counts.”).
[34]. See Marston v. Oliver, 324 F. Supp. 691 (E.D. Va. 1971), rev’d, 485 F.2d 705 (4th Cir. 1973).
Mary Kelly Tate, Personal Reflections on the Honorable Robert R. Merhige, Jr.: A Judge, Mentor, and Friend, 52 U. Rich. L. Rev. Online 17 (2017).
Click here to download PDF.
Mary Kelly Tate *
Twenty-six years—half my lifetime—have passed since I joined Judge Merhige’s court family as his law clerk. I attempt here to sketch my personal impressions, distilling what to me was most remarkable about Robert R. Merhige, Jr. Perhaps unsurprisingly, this dynamic man turned legendary judge—a man I revered from the moment I met him—is more vivid to me now than he was to my younger self.
Mercurial, energetic, and benevolently despotic, Judge Merhige was a man of extraordinary decency who cherished his vocation and the law. He was a World War II veteran and an accomplished, wickedly talented trial attorney tapped by President Lyndon B. Johnson for the federal judiciary in 1967. As a Lebanese-Irish Northeasterner, he was understandably proud of making good in the famously clubby, genteel Richmond of the 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s. As a judge, he treated his court personnel and law clerks with great affection and caring watchfulness.
Although clerking affords a high degree of access to a judge in the ordinary course, I was fortunate to get a larger dose than is typical. I traveled with the Judge to New York City while he sat in the Brooklyn courthouse clearing its back-logged docket. It is a commonplace that traveling together often affords special insights into people, and it was no different with the Judge. I spent a total of eight weeks—three separate trips—on the Brooklyn assignment. Gil, the Judge’s court reporter, and I spent all day with him on those splendidly up-close trips.
And by all day, I mean all day. The Judge believed in togetherness when it came to his courtly entourage. We met in front of our next-door hotels (his was one step above mine in the amenities department) on East 50th Street in Manhattan at 7:00 AM, where a federal marshal picked us up to ferry us to the borough. After completing the day’s tasks, we journeyed back to Manhattan where, from the first day onward, the Judge would say to me, “Okay, see you in ten minutes.” I would hurriedly change and rush over to the Judge and Gil’s suite, in the comfort of which we would drink martinis until leaving for dinner no earlier than 8:00 PM. We did this every single night. This seventy-six-year-old man was tireless. He woke early every morning, the martinis or late hour of the preceding night be damned, brimming with excitement for the day ahead, scanning the city street impatiently while waiting for the unfailingly on-time federal marshal to arrive. That excitement streamed out of his eyes, and his walk crackled with it too.
The Brooklyn assignment was well-suited for Judge Merhige, as he was one of the progenitors of the spectacularly efficient “Rocket Docket,” known nationally for its swift and orderly dispensation of justice. It was a guilty pleasure to watch the most sophisticated, hard-driving, self-confident lawyers become slack-jawed when they first experienced the judicial command that the Judge would exert over the pace and tempo of their litigation strategies. I remember in particular a blue-stocking law firm partner of gray hair and sartorial splendor telling the Judge he had fifty witnesses, and the Judge telling him, with a steely stare, to pick five. For about thirty seconds, the unsuspecting lawyer thought the Judge was kidding.
Reflecting about my time with Judge Merhige in New York and Richmond, what comes to me now is his singular interest in people’s stories, his pragmatism, and his sense of personal loyalty to those he considered friends. These are the predominant traits that I experienced at his side. As a matter of history and with regard to how he faced the crucible of deciding the momentous controversies before him, courage is the trait that comes into the sharpest relief. That, however, is for a different piece, not this personal remembrance.
First, his love of stories. I am quite certain he offered me a clerkship for the primary reason that I came with a story in hand—the story of my ill-fated journey from Charlottesville to Richmond for my interview with him. En route to the Judge’s historic, regally beautiful chambers, the 1978 Skylark I had borrowed from my law professor had caught on fire, leaving me stranded twenty minutes outside downtown Richmond.
This travel misadventure delighted the Judge and took up the lion’s share of our time together during the interview, which I mistakenly thought was going to be about the law. He did not ask me a single legal question, nor did he make any inquiries into my academic credentials, which bordered somewhere between humdrum and good. It seems more than likely that the narrative hook that the fire provided overcame the competitive advantages other candidates had over me and satisfied the Judge’s ever-present interest in the backgrounds and experiences—the stories—of people’s lives.
No matter who the Judge was dealing with, the story that surrounded that person was his key focus. Pre-sentence reports, docket day banter with lawyers, exchanges with clerk office personnel, placing an order with a waiter—these were all opportunities the Judge took to try to discover a truth about a person and their story. He had an uncanny ability to incorporate the story to put the person at ease or to subtly discomfit the person. The latter he did sparingly and for noble purposes, such as when he sensed an untruth or spotted unfair jockeying.
His respect for the experiences of the individuals around him made him a thoughtful and kind judge. Kindness is not often talked about when delineating what is needed in a judicial temperament. But kindness he had in spades. I never witnessed him be mean from the bench to anyone. Firm, yes. Intense and hard-driving, undoubtedly. But never unkind. He was meticulous in treating everyone with the dignity owed each and every person.
As is widely known, Judge Merhige’s judicial career was marked by an epic engagement with the most searing controversies. He presided over the highest profile litigation of his epoch—school desegregation in the City of Richmond, protests at Wounded Knee, Watergate, and gender discrimination at the University of Virginia, among others. He saw the human condition in a sympathetic way. This allowed him to weigh competing equities with both humility and doggedness. It also compelled him to protect the rule of law as a force to stabilize the darker byproducts of democracy’s imperfect reckoning with human frailties.
Although his judicial portfolio was marked by decades of decisions of huge historical import, it was the case right before Judge Merhige that always had his greatest focus. As a judge, he lived not in the haze of a glorious past, but rather in the thick of the present moment. Like anyone who loves stories and history, he was a keen observer of human detail and motivation. The Judge was not afraid to remind everyone that every case before him, be it criminal or a complex tort case, at base was about people. He returned to this simple reminder again and again.
Notwithstanding the fact that his rulings often simultaneously spurred criticism and praise, I believe he made those rulings with an earnest and deeply felt commitment to the rule of law. He loved the story of America—its imperfect confrontation with its original sin of slavery, its decisive role in conquering fascism, its ever-renewing stream of immigrant hopefuls, and its gloriously independent federal judiciary. At both the personal and professional level, he touched these four pillars of the American story. Even though the American story is a contested one, my time with the Judge convinces me that these four storylines were the ones he felt were most important.
By all reasonable measures, Judge Merhige sought to be guided and limited by the law’s guardrails, be that the United States Constitution, state laws, or federal statutes. He saw himself as operating within a grand, majestic democratic system. Yes, he had a healthy self-regard, but, at base, he was an institutionalist who loved his country.
A second characteristic that comes to mind when reflecting on the Judge is that he was a pragmatic man, thinker, and judge. In addition to being a natural story-teller (hence his exquisite success as a trial attorney) and a tremendous respecter of the stories that made up other people’s lives, Judge Merhige navigated the power conferred upon him with an instinct for problem-solving. He was by nature open to solutions and compromises. He possessed a willingness to find new pathways to intractable disagreements, yet he also knew pragmatism’s limits. When those limits hit, he would set a fair playing field for the battle to be joined.
An example of this pragmatism occurred during an early lunch I had with him. He was not one to dine out much during the workday. He often said he ate to live, not the reverse. I cannot remember the reason I had this precious opportunity with him, but it was early in my clerkship when I was still in the thrall of the University of Virginia School of Law’s strongly theoretical lens. I inquired what brought him to conclude that the law compelled the University of Virginia to admit women, thinking I would hear a complex explanation around the doctrine of the equal protection clause. Instead, he looked up from his soup and said, “It wasn’t fair.” This is not to say that he did not respect doctrinal intricacies or rigorous legal reasoning, both of which he excelled at and utilized. It does, however, reveal the mind of a man whose bent is toward the pragmatic.
Third and finally, he bestowed great affection upon those in his midst. As for his loyalty and kindness to friends and those he called family, the examples of such run in the thousands. People who knew the Judge well often trade such stories with each other. The Judge loved taking action to show concern or affection. I remember being laid up with a terrible cold living in a duplex when an Article III judge tapped on my door with a smile on his face and a serving of Brunswick Stew in his hand. He also cherished the framed photographs of every clerk who had served him during his long tenure, which hung on the walls of his chambers. By the time I was with the Judge, visitors were met with fifty or so pictures of fresh-faced law clerks stacked one on top of the other. It was quite a sight and made the biggest visual statement of his chambers other than his gorgeous desk and fireplace. Those framed pictures announced to the world how much the Judge loved his clerks and where they stood in his heart.
There are times when a person finds his perfect destiny. Judge Merhige found his. Being witness to that destiny was one of the greatest privileges of my life. Yet when I recall those days, it is not the law, the cases, or the legendary record that fill my mind. Instead, my heart is moved in remembering a man lit with love for his country, his court, his family, and his friends. In the end, it was the love the Judge showed which burned the brightest.
* Founding Director, Institute for Actual Innocence. Public Defender, 1999–2001; Solo Practitioner, 1995–1999; Hunton & Williams, 1992–1995; Clerk to Judge Merhige, 1991–1992; J.D., 1991,University of Virginia; B.A., 1987, University of Kansas.
Stephen N. Scaife, The Honorable Robert R. Merhige, Jr.: A Series on His Life and Career, 52 U. Rich. L. Rev. Online 15 (2017).
Click here to download PDF.
The Honorable Robert R. Merhige, Jr., was a man and judge whose career, personality, and impact deserve to be celebrated and remembered. As this year is the fiftieth anniversary of his judicial appointment to the United States District Court for the Eastern District of Virginia, it provides a perfect opportunity to honor and remember his illustrious career. In this endeavor, the Online Edition of the University of Richmond Law Review is publishing a series of articles that highlight Judge Merhige’s impact on people and the law. As Judge Merhige was an alumnus of the University of Richmond School of Law (L’42), it is with a sense of pride that the University of Richmond Law Review presents this series. In the articles that follow, you, dear reader, will learn of—or fondly be reminded of—Judge Merhige’s memorable personality, towering intellect, and admirable courage and fortitude in ensuring that justice was achieved.
Those familiar with Judge Merhige often emphasize his devotion, namely his devotion to his court, to the city where his courtroom sat, and to the people who walked into his courtroom. In the following pages, one can perceive this devotion. But for now, it can best be summarized by the judge’s own words:
I didn’t go looking for social causes to advocate from the bench. I opened my courtroom one day and asked, “Is anybody here?” A lot of people answered back, “We’re here judge, and we want our constitutional rights.” So I did the only thing I could. I listened and tried to do the fair thing, the right thing.[1]
Stephen N. Scaife
Online Editor
[1]. Ronald J. Bacigal, May It Please the Court: A Biography of Judge Robert R. Merhige, Jr., at xi (1992) (citation omitted).
Michael J. Jacobsma, Non-Contact Excessive Force by Police: Is that Really a Thing?, 52 U. Rich. L. Rev. Online 1 (2017).
Click here to download PDF.
Michael J. Jacobsma *
Introduction
When people hear the words “police” and “excessive force,” they usually associate those words with an unjustified assault and battery, or lethal force made against suspects by law enforcement officers during an arrest or investigation. When such acts occur, the victim of the excessive force has the right to pursue a civil action against the police officer pursuant to 42 U.S.C. § 1983 if committed by state or local police, or a Bivens[1] action if committed by federal agents.
But can a police officer be sued for excessive force without making any physical contact with the plaintiff? The answer to that question is yes. The context of such alleged excessive force is usually a detention of someone by police at gunpoint. A plaintiff may claim that the pointing of the gun is unreasonable and in violation of the plaintiff’s rights. However, the federal circuits are not uniform on this issue, and the United States Supreme Court has yet to squarely address such a claim.
This article’s purpose is to survey the law in the federal circuits to assist practitioners and courts in understanding the factors used by the federal circuits in analyzing whether a plaintiff has a colorable claim when no physical contact or injury results.
I. Excessive Force and Civil Rights Actions Generally
The United States Supreme Court has established that in “addressing an excessive force claim brought under § 1983, analysis begins by identifying the specific constitutional right allegedly infringed by the challenged application of force.”[2] The Court opined, “In most instances, that will be either the Fourth Amendment’s prohibition against unreasonable seizures of the person, or the Eighth Amendment’s ban on cruel and unusual punishments . . . .”[3] This article will focus on claims made under a Fourth Amendment search and seizure analysis.
The claim must “be judged by reference to the specific constitutional standard which governs that right, rather than to some generalized ‘excessive force’ standard.”[4] Fourth Amendment protections clearly apply where “the excessive force claim arises in the context of an arrest or investigatory stop of a free citizen . . . .”[5]
The Fourth Amendment’s reasonableness standard “requires a careful balancing of ‘the nature and quality of the intrusion on the individual’s Fourth Amendment interests’ against the countervailing governmental interests at stake.”[6] Even if law enforcement has the right to make a search or seizure, such a seizure must be executed in a reasonable manner.[7] The “when” and “how” of otherwise legitimate law enforcement actions may always render such actions unreasonable.[8]
The Supreme Court has noted “that the right to make an arrest or investigatory stop necessarily carries with it the right to use some degree of physical coercion or threat thereof to effect it.”[9] Determining whether an officer’s actions meet the Fourth Amendment’s reasonableness standard is a fact-specific question.[10] The officer’s actions must be “objectively reasonable” to satisfy the Fourth Amendment.[11]
Thus, under Supreme Court jurisprudence, claims that police actions were excessive due to the display or brandishing of firearms are to be judged under an objective reasonableness standard.
II. Federal Circuits Expressly Allowing Claims of Excessive Force Based on Unreasonable Seizure at Gunpoint (Third, Sixth, Seventh, Ninth, Tenth, and First Circuits)
A. Third Circuit
The Third Circuit was among the first of the federal circuits to find that pointing a gun at a person without firing the weapon could amount to a constitutional violation. In Black v. Stephens, the Third Circuit affirmed a jury verdict finding that a Pennsylvania police detective, who was in plain clothes and did not identify himself to motorists with whom he had a dispute on the highway, committed excessive force when he pointed his revolver at the motorists and threatened to shoot.[12]
However, the court in Black did not analyze the constitutional violation under the Fourth Amendment. Rather, the court examined the case under a due process analysis, finding that the police detective’s actions were conduct that “shocks the conscience.”[13] Later, however, Graham eliminated the use of this “shocks the conscience” test under due process and now requires all claims of excessive force during the course of a pretrial arrest or seizure to be analyzed under the Fourth Amendment objective reasonableness standard.[14]
Later, the Third Circuit in Baker v. Monroe Township held that detention of a home’s occupants, who were handcuffed and detained at gunpoint during a drug raid, stated a triable excessive force claim under the Fourth Amendment.[15] The court noted that “the use of guns and handcuffs and, indeed, the length of the detention, shows a very substantial invasion of the [plaintiffs’] personal security.”[16]
B. Sixth Circuit
The Sixth Circuit in Binay v. Bettendorf held that it was a question of fact for the jury to determine if police used excessive force in detaining and questioning individuals at gunpoint during a residential search where the detainees were cooperative and compliant.[17]
In Binay, police obtained a warrant to search the plaintiffs’ apartment based on suspicion of illegal narcotics possession. While executing the search, six masked police officers stormed the apartment while brandishing weapons and forced the plaintiffs to the floor. [18] The officers pointed their guns at the plaintiffs and handcuffed them.[19] The police secured the house within moments and a drug sniffing dog went through the house. The dog did not find any narcotics and was out of the apartment within fifteen minutes.[20] The police officers then ransacked each room but found nothing. The officers then interrogated the plaintiffs, who were still handcuffed and held at gunpoint. The plaintiffs were completely cooperative and the police left after an hour without finding any narcotics.[21]
The court reasoned that “Plaintiffs had no criminal record, cooperated throughout the ordeal, posed no immediate threat to the officers, and did not resist arrest or attempt to flee.”[22] The court opined that these were all factors weighing against the police officers’ argument that they acted reasonably and led to questions for the jury to resolve.[23]
C. Seventh Circuit
The Seventh Circuit has upheld excessive force violations, in the context of a § 1983 action, for merely pointing firearms at individuals when it was unreasonable to do so.[24] In Baird v. Renbarger, the court upheld the denial of a police officer’s motion for summary judgment concerning a claim of excessive force in violation of the Fourth Amendment.[25]
In Baird, the officer used a submachine gun to round up persons located in one of the plaintiff’s shops and detained them until the search was completed.[26] The decision does not indicate whether the officer ever fired the weapon or made threats of using the gun, only that the officer used it to detain the individuals. The court concluded that “a reasonable jury could find that [the officer] violated the plaintiffs’ clearly established right to be free from excessive force when he seized and held them by pointing his firearm at them when there was no hint of danger.”[27] Other Seventh Circuit decisions have held the same.[28]
D. Ninth Circuit
The Ninth Circuit held that pointing a gun at an unarmed suspect who poses no current danger constitutes excessive force in Robinson v. Solano County.[29] In that case, the court relied on the following factors: “the crime under investigation was at most a misdemeanor; the suspect was apparently unarmed and approaching the officers in a peaceful way; [t]here were no dangerous or exigent circumstances apparent at the time of the detention; and the officers outnumbered the plaintiff.”[30] The Ninth Circuit has also held that holding an infant at gunpoint constitutes excessive force.[31]
E. Tenth Circuit
Similarly, in Holland v. Harrington, the Tenth Circuit held that holding children at gunpoint after the officers had gained complete control of the situation “was not justified under the circumstances.”[32] In that decision, the court reasoned that:
The display of weapons, and the pointing of firearms directly at persons inescapably involves the immediate threat of deadly force. Such a show of force should be predicated on at least a perceived risk of injury or danger to the officers or others, based upon what the officers know at that time . . . Where a person has submitted to the officers’ show of force without resistance, and where an officer has no reasonable cause to believe that person poses a danger to the officer or to others, it may be excessive and unreasonable to continue to aim a loaded firearm directly at that person, in contrast to simply holding the weapon in a fashion ready for immediate use. Pointing a firearm directly at a child calls for even greater sensitivity to what may be justified or what may be excessive under all the circumstances.[33]
Furthermore, in Cortez v. McCauley, the Tenth Circuit specifically held that “[p]hysical contact is not required for an excessive force claim—patently unreasonable conduct is.”[34]
F. First Circuit
The First Circuit has also recognized that detaining occupants at gunpoint incident to the search of a home can become unreasonable. In Mlodzinski v. Lewis, police conducted a raid on a home seeking to both arrest a seventeen-year-old boy suspected of committing an assault, and to find a nightstick with which he allegedly used to commit the assault.[35] Officers entered the bedrooms of the suspect’s fifteen-year-old sister and parents. The officer who entered the sister’s bedroom pointed an assault rifle at her for seven to ten minutes and brought her downstairs, where she continued to be detained during the search.[36]
The court held that it was unreasonable for an officer to point a rifle at the head of a non-threatening and handcuffed young girl for seven to ten minutes, which, the court concluded, was beyond the time necessary to arrest the only suspect.[37]
When the police entered the parents’ bedroom, according to the suspect’s mother, an officer kept his gun trained at her head for approximately half an hour while she was lying partially nude on the bed.[38] Like the conclusion arrived at with respect to the suspect’s sister, the court held, “The circumstances of [the plaintiff’s] detention in bed are unlike those in which a reasonable officer could have thought that keeping a gun pointed at her head was lawful.”[39]
III. Federal Circuits Expressly Disallowing Gunpoint Seizure Claims (Fourth, Second, and Eleventh Circuits)
A. Fourth Circuit
The Fourth Circuit takes a different approach to these claims, describing them as “excessive use-of-weapons allegations” that are a “species” of excessive force claims.[40] In Bellotte v. Edwards, police officers executed a warrant search of a house in the middle of the night where one of the residents, Mr. Bellotte, was suspected of possessing child pornography. Officers entered the home with guns drawn and detained Mrs. Bellotte and her children at gunpoint while the premises were searched. Mrs. Bellotte and two of her daughters were in their respective bedrooms asleep. The suspect, Mr. Bellotte, was not at the home that night.[41]
In analyzing the excessive force claims brought by the Bellottes in a § 1983 action, the court, relying on its earlier decision in Taft v. Vines,[42] held that “[i]nvestigating officers may take such steps as are reasonably necessary to maintain the status quo and to protect their safety during an investigative stop.”[43] The court concluded that “although approaching a suspect with drawn weapons is an extraordinary measure, such a police procedure has been justified in this circuit as a reasonable means of neutralizing potential danger to police and innocent bystanders.”[44] Finding against the plaintiffs, the court reasoned that the police had good reason to fear for their safety because they were walking into an unsecured room and that no excessive force was used when pointing their weapons.[45]
B. Second Circuit
The Second Circuit’s treatment on this issue is curious. The court of appeals has, at least, made the suggestion on one occasion that “[c]ircuit law could very well support [a] claim that a gunpoint death threat issued to a restrained and unresisting arrestee represents excessive force.”[46] However, the federal district courts have not followed that suggestion. In fact, since that Second Circuit decision, the district courts still maintain that “the vast majority of cases within the Second Circuit hold that merely drawing weapons when effectuating an arrest does not constitute excessive force as a matter of law.”[47] Therefore, it appears that the district courts within the Second Circuit expressly disallow claims of excessive force based only on the brandishing of firearms, regardless of the reasonableness of the police action.
C. Eleventh Circuit
The Eleventh Circuit’s decision in Courson v. McMillian solidified that the Eleventh Circuit allowed officers to draw “weapons when approaching and holding individuals for an investigatory stop . . . when reasonably necessary for protecting an officer or maintaining order.”[48] Trial courts within the Eleventh Circuit have followed that line of reasoning in rejecting claims of excessive force based only on the pointing of guns while being detained.[49]
However, a more recent Eleventh Circuit decision appears to open the door to the possibility of abrogating that reasoning. In Croom v. Balkwill, the Eleventh Circuit stated in a footnote that “[a]n officer’s decision to point a gun at an unarmed civilian who objectively poses no threat to the officer or the public can certainly sustain a claim of excessive force.”[50] The court even cited some of the cases from other circuits discussed above that allowed excessive force claims where no physical harm occurred.[51] Thus, conditions may be ripe in the Eleventh Circuit to follow the lead of those circuits expressly allowing excessive force claims for gunpoint seizures.
IV. Federal Circuits Analyzing Excessive Force Claims re Seizure at Gunpoint Based on the Injury Sustained by the Plaintiff (Fifth Circuit)
A. Fifth Circuit
The Fifth Circuit held in Flores v. City of Palacios that “[a] plaintiff alleging an excessive force violation must show that she has suffered ‘at least some injury.’ While certain injuries are so slight that they will never satisfy the injury element, psychological injuries may sustain a Fourth Amendment claim.”[52] The court went on to specifically affirm that “no physical injury is necessary to state a Fourth Amendment claim.”[53]
It would thus appear that in the Fifth Circuit, one could maintain an excessive force claim where police unreasonably detain someone at gunpoint. However, at least one federal district court within the Fifth Circuit appeared to interpret the Fifth Circuit’s holding in Flores to require at least some medical evidence in order to prove the claim of psychological injury. In Strickland v. City of Crenshaw, the district court reasoned that the Fifth Circuit in Flores accepted the plaintiff’s allegation that the plaintiff suffered a diagnosable mental disorder (PTSD), which suggests that “some form of medical evidence is generally required to establish a psychological injury.”[54] This interpretation may be unduly burdensome in light of the Fifth Circuit’s previous decision in Petta v. Rivera where the court held that “[a] police officer who terrorizes a civilian by brandishing a cocked gun in front of that civilian’s face may not cause physical injury, but he has certainly laid the building blocks for a section 1983 claim against him.”[55]
V. Circuits That Have Yet to Squarely Address the Issue (Eighth and D.C. Circuits)
A. Eighth Circuit
The Eighth Circuit has not yet squarely addressed the issue of whether a § 1983 action for excessive force can be maintained based only on a seizure at gunpoint. But there has been at least one federal district court that allowed such a claim to go forward.[56] The Eighth Circuit Court of Appeals has addressed the issue of excessive force based on brandishing guns in the context of criminal cases. In United States v. Fisher, the Eighth Circuit declared, “It is well established, however, that when officers are presented with serious danger in the course of carrying out an investigative detention, they may brandish weapons or even constrain the suspect with handcuffs in order to control the scene and protect their safety.”[57]
This well-established principle is derived from the Supreme Court’s decision in Terry v. Ohio, which explained the Fourth Amendment standards and limits on police officers making a brief investigatory detention.[58] In Terry, the Court understood the need for a police officer to make certain intrusions of a person for the safety and protection of the officer, but only when the officer has a reasonable and justifiable belief that the person whom the officer is investigating is armed and dangerous.[59]
It appears logical, then, from the Supreme Court’s decision in Terry and the Eighth Circuit’s decision in Fisher, that if police do not have a specific, particularized suspicion that a suspect is armed and dangerous, brandishing weapons to coercively force that person to follow police instructions is unreasonable under the Fourth Amendment.
Furthermore, unlike the Fifth Circuit, the Eighth Circuit has held that “a citizen may prove an unreasonable seizure based on an excessive use of force without necessarily showing more than de minimis injury.”[60] The Eighth Circuit had previously held that a plaintiff bringing an excessive force claim who suffered post-traumatic stress disorder satisfied the court’s requirement that a plaintiff suffer “actual injury” from the alleged excessive force.[61] Thus, conditions could be ripe for the Eighth Circuit to join the other circuits that allow an excessive force claim based on an unreasonable brandishing of guns during the course of a seizure.
B. D.C. Circuit
The D.C. Circuit has not squarely addressed the issue either. However, one circuit court decision may have given tacit approval to an excessive force claim based on pointing firearms at the plaintiff during a seizure. In Youngbey v. District of Columbia, the federal district court held that, if the plaintiff’s version of the facts were true, it was unreasonable for police officers, while executing a search warrant of a residence, to detain the plaintiff at gunpoint five to ten minutes after the premises were secured.[62]
On the police officers’ appeal, the D.C. Circuit reversed the district court in part.[63] The reversal related to the district court’s decision that the police officers were not entitled to qualified immunity as to whether the police acted reasonably regarding their “no-knock entry” of the residence.[64] However, the court held that the remaining issues should proceed to trial.[65] The D.C. Circuit did not discuss the excessive force claim, though the decision does not appear to indicate that the specific issue was appealed.
VI. Factors to Examine in Gunpoint Seizure Cases
What factors should the practitioner or jurist look for when faced with an apparent unlawful seizure at gunpoint? As with so much of Fourth Amendment jurisprudence, whether an exercise of force is excessive will vary depending on the facts and circumstances of the specific case.[66] The factors laid out in Graham are the starting point: “the severity of the crime at issue, whether the suspect poses an immediate threat to the safety of the officers or others, and whether he is actively resisting arrest or attempting to evade arrest by flight.”[67]
Many of the cases seem to turn on whether the police have a reasonable belief that their safety is at risk due to a reasonable suspicion that the suspect is armed with guns, or the detainees are disobeying the police officers’ instructions.[68]
In cases where the detention at gunpoint is made pursuant to a warrant to search a residence, adequate justification may exist for the initial brandishing of firearms while executing the warrant. This is due to the existing probable cause that a suspect is wanted on violent criminal charges, or the place to be searched is suspected of narcotics trafficking, both of which are factors indicating the possible presence of guns.[69]
In such cases, the length of the seizure at gunpoint, and who is being detained, may be critical.[70] The police must give careful attention to non-suspects who happen to occupy the place to be searched. As the court in Mlodzinski observed, if a gun is pointed at an occupant of a residence for only a short period while police gain control of the situation, that could affect the outcome of an excessive force claim.[71]
Conclusion
There appears to be a trend among the federal circuits to place greater attention on the issue of whether the actions of the police were unreasonable, and less attention to the injury caused by the force used. As the Tenth Circuit concluded in Holland v. Harrington, “The display of weapons, and the pointing of firearms directly at persons inescapably involves the immediate threat of deadly force.”[72] Some courts seem to recognize the psychological injury that can accompany a loaded gun pointed at one’s head even though no physical contact is made. Practitioners and jurists should be sensitive to this reality in defining what constitutes “excessive” force.
* Founding Partner, Jacobsma, Clabaugh, & Goslinga, PLC, Sioux Center, Iowa. J.D., 1996, Creighton University. The author practices civil and criminal litigation and is an adjunct professor at Dordt College, Sioux Center, Iowa. The author would like to express his gratitude to his busy partners, Missy Clabaugh and Kelly Goslinga, for their encouragement, patience, and “carrying the load” for the firm during the writing of this article.
[1]. See Bivens v. Six Unknown Named Agents of Fed. Bureau of Narcotics, 403 U.S. 388, 389 (1971).
[2]. Graham v. Connor, 490 U.S. 386, 394 (1989) (“‘The first inquiry in any § 1983 suit’ is to isolate the precise constitutional violation with which [the defendant] is charged.” (quoting Baker v. McCollan, 443 U.S. 137, 140 (1979))).
[3]. Id.
[4]. Id.
[5]. Id.
[6]. Id. at 396 (citing Tennessee v. Garner, 471 U.S. 1, 8 (1985)).
[7]. See Zurcher v. Stanford Daily, 436 U.S. 547, 559–60 (1978) (noting that possession of a warrant and probable cause does not immunize searches from review for Fourth Amendment reasonableness).
[8]. See id.
[9]. See Graham, 490 U.S. at 396.
[10]. Id. (opining that the lack of a precise definition of the reasonableness standard requires a careful analysis of the facts, including the crime’s severity, the suspect’s threat, and whether he is resisting or evading arrest).
[11]. Id. at 397.
[12]. See Black v. Stephens, 662 F.2d 181, 184–85 (3d Cir. 1981).
[13]. Id. at 188 (quoting Rhodes v. Robinson, 612 F.2d 766, 772 (3d Cir. 1979)).
[14]. See Graham, 490 U.S. at 394.
[15]. Baker v. Monroe Township, 50 F.3d 1186, 1195 (3d Cir. 1995).
[16]. Id. at 1193.
[17]. See Binay v. Bettendorf, 601 F.3d 640, 653–54 (6th Cir. 2010).
[18]. Id. at 644.
[19]. Id.
[20]. Id.
[21]. Id.
[22]. Id. at 650.
[23]. Id.
[24]. E.g., Baird v. Renbarger, 576 F.3d 340, 342 (7th Cir. 2009).
[25]. Id. at 342–43.
[26]. See id. at 343.
[27]. Id. at 347.
[28]. E.g., Jacobs v. City of Chicago, 215 F.3d 758, 773–74 (7th Cir. 2000) (opining that officers may violate the plaintiff’s Fourth Amendment rights when they pointed a gun at an elderly man’s head for ten minutes even after realizing that he was not the desired suspect); McDonald v. Haskins, 966 F.2d 292, 294–95 (7th Cir. 1992) (reasoning that pointing a gun at a nine-year-old child during a search and threatening to pull the trigger was “objectively unreasonable”).
[29]. Robinson v. Solano County, 278 F.3d 1007, 1014 (9th Cir. 2002) (en banc).
[30]. Id.
[31]. See Motley v. Parks, 432 F.3d 1072, 1089 (9th Cir. 2005) (en banc).
[32]. Holland v. Harrington, 268 F.3d 1179, 1193 (10th Cir. 2001).
[33]. Id. at 1192–93.
[34]. Cortez v. McCauley, 478 F.3d 1108, 1131 (10th Cir. 2007).
[35]. Mlodzinski v. Lewis, 648 F.3d 24, 29 (1st Cir. 2011).
[36]. Id. at 30.
[37]. See id. at 38.
[38]. Id. at 30–31.
[39]. Id. at 39. The court examined the relevant factors laid out in Graham and reasoned that:
While the [police] officers did initially have to make split second decisions to assess [the plaintiff’s] threat level and the possible need for restraint, that does not characterize the entire period in the bedroom, which she says was half an hour. Rather, it quickly became clear, on plaintiffs’ version of the facts, that [the plaintiff] was not the suspect, that she was not trying to resist arrest or flee, that she was not dangerous, and that she was not trying to dispose of contraband or weapons. Further, she was completely compliant with all orders. These are all relevant factors under Graham that undercut any claim that defendants acted reasonably.
Id.
[40]. Bellotte v. Edwards, 629 F.3d 415, 424 (4th Cir. 2011).
[41]. Id. at 418–19.
[42]. Taft v. Vines, 83 F.3d 681 (4th Cir. 1996).
[43]. See Bellotte, 629 F.3d at 425.
[44]. Id. (citations omitted).
[45]. Id. at 426.
[46]. See Mills v. Fenger, 216 F. App’x 7, 10 (2d Cir. 2006).
[47]. See Dunkelberger v. Dunkelberger, No. 14-CV-3877, 2015 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 133814, at *43 (S.D.N.Y. Sept. 30, 2015) (quoting Cabral v. City of New York, No. 12 Civ. 4659, 2014 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 131342 at *28 (S.D.N.Y. Sept. 17, 2014) (“[The defendant’s] approach with his gun drawn does not constitute excessive force as a matter of law.”)); Mittelman v. County of Rockland, No. 07-CV-6382, 2013 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 46382, at *37 (S.D.N.Y. Mar. 26, 2013) (“Likewise insufficient is [the][p]laintiff’s assertion that the officers pointed guns at him. A threat of force does not constitute excessive force.”); Askins v. City of New York, No. 09 Civ. 10315, 2011 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 40435, at *10 (S.D.N.Y. Mar. 25, 2011) (“While the Second Circuit has noted that ‘circuit law could very well support a claim that a gunpoint death threat issued to a restrained and unresisting arrestee represents excessive force,’ [the] plaintiff’s assertion that a gun was pointed at his head cannot be the basis of a claim for excessive force.” (quoting Mills v. Fenger, 216 F. App’x 7, 9 (2d Cir. 2006) (alterations omitted)); Aderonmu v. Heavey, No. 00 Civ. 9232, 2001 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 640, at *10 (S.D.N.Y. Jan. 26, 2001) (dismissing excessive force claim based on an interrogation at gunpoint because the plaintiff “fail[ed] to allege that any physical force was used against him during his interrogation, or that any injuries resulted from [the] defendants’ allegedly unconstitutional conduct”).
[48]. Courson v. McMillian, 939 F.2d 1479, 1494–95 (11th Cir. 1991).
[49]. See, e.g., Raby v. Baptist Med. Ctr., 21 F. Supp. 2d 1341, 1350 (M.D. Ala. 1998) (holding that the police officer’s actions of sticking his pistol through the window of the plaintiff’s car and pointing it at the plaintiff’s head was not excessive force and stating that “where the officer merely points a gun at a suspect in the course of arresting him, the suspect would have no basis for claiming . . . excessive force” (citations omitted)); see also Roberts v. City of Hapeville, No. 1:05-CV-1614-WSD, 2007 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 10508, at *20 n.12 (N.D. Ga. Feb. 15, 2007) (holding that the plaintiff’s allegation that an officer pointed a gun at his neck during the course of an arrest was insufficient to state a claim for excessive force).
[50]. Croom v. Balkwill, 645 F.3d 1240, 1252 n.17 (11th Cir. 2011).
[51]. Id.
[52]. Flores v. City of Palacios, 381 F.3d 391, 397–98 (5th Cir. 2004) (citations omitted).
[53]. Id. at 401.
[54]. Strickland v. City of Crenshaw, 114 F. Supp. 3d 400, 416 (N.D. Miss. 2015); see also Casto v. Plaisance, No. 15-817, 2016 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 64171, at *19 (E.D. La. May 16, 2016) (holding that the plaintiff’s excessive force claim against the police officer for brandishing a gun at him failed because the plaintiff’s momentary fear was not more than de minimus psychological injury).
[55]. Petta v. Rivera, 143 F.3d 895, 905 (5th Cir. 1998) (citing Checki v. Webb, 785 F.2d 534, 538 (5th Cir. 1986)).
[56]. See Wilson v. Lamp, 142 F. Supp. 3d 793, 805–06 (N.D. Iowa 2015).
[57]. United States v. Fisher, 364 F.3d 970, 973 (8th Cir. 2004) (emphasis added).
[58]. Terry v. Ohio, 392 U.S. 1, 20 (1968).
[59]. In Terry v. Ohio, the Court reasoned:
When an officer is justified in believing that the individual whose suspicious behavior he is investigating at close range is armed and presently dangerous to the officer or to others, it would appear to be clearly unreasonable to deny the officer the power to take necessary measures to determine whether the person is in fact carrying a weapon and to neutralize the threat of physical harm.
Id. at 24.
[60]. Chambers v. Pennycook, 641 F.3d 898, 901 (8th Cir. 2011).
[61]. Dawkins v. Graham, 50 F.3d 532, 535 (8th Cir. 1995).
[62]. Youngbey v. District of Columbia, 766 F. Supp. 2d 197, 213 (D.D.C. 2011).
[63]. See Youngbey v. March, 676 F.3d 1114, 1126 (D.C. Cir. 2012).
[64]. See id.
[65]. See id.
[66]. See, e.g., Binay v. Bettendorf, 601 F.3d 640, 649 (6th Cir. 2010) (“[T]he fact that it is sometimes reasonable to use handcuffs and guns when detaining suspects does not support Defendants’ argument that the amount of force used in this case was objectively reasonable.”).
[67]. Graham v. Connor, 490 U.S. 386, 396 (1989).
[68]. See, e.g., Deskins v. City of Bremerton, 388 F. App’x 750, 752 (9th Cir. 2010) (holding that the officer was in danger when the officer was alone and the defendant disobeyed instructions); United States v. Trueber, 238 F.3d 79, 94 (1st Cir. 2001) (holding that the officer’s safety was at risk when the suspect was stopped for trafficking narcotics, “a pattern of criminal conduct rife with deadly weapons” (citation omitted)); United States v. Lloyd, 36 F.3d 761, 762–63 (8th Cir. 1994) (opining that the police acted reasonably when they brandished their weapons upon encountering an individual at a location where police were investigating a report that a man’s life was threatened by several men who had machine guns, shotguns, hand guns, and drugs); United States v. Jackson, 652 F.2d 244, 249 (2d Cir. 1981) (holding that drawing a firearm was reasonable when a police officer came across a driver that was suspected of escaping an armed bank robbery).
[69]. For a collection of cases holding generally that the real or legitimately suspected presence of dangerous activity may be adequate justification to brandish a firearm see Deskins, 388 F. App’x at 752; Trueber, 238 F.3d at 94; Lloyd, 36 F.3d at 762–63; Jackson, 652 F.2d at 249.
[70]. See, e.g., Mlodzinski v. Lewis, 648 F.3d 24, 40 (1st Cir. 2011).
[71]. See id. (“[T]he situation would be very different if, given the execution of these warrants, [the plaintiff] had been detained with a weapon pointed at her for only a very short period needed while she was being cuffed, her husband was being escorted out of the room, and her son was being apprehended.”).
[72]. Holland v. Harrington, 268 F.3d 1179, 1192 (10th Cir. 2001).
Donald J. Kochan*
Uniquely interconnecting lessons from law, psychology, and economics, this article aims to provide a more enriched understanding of what it means to “share” property in the sharing economy. It explains that there is an “ownership prerequisite” to the sharing of property, drawing in part from the findings of research in the psychology of child development to show when and why children start to share. They do so only after developing what psychologists call “ownership understanding.” What the psychological research reveals, then, is that the property system is well suited to create recognizable and enforceable ownership norms that include the rights to acquire and retain ownership of property (parting with it only on terms defined by the owner), thereby also providing necessary economic incentives to share. Along the way, this article bridges the psychology research with Hohfeld’s description of the nature of rights, explaining the corresponding rights characterizations appropriate to describe each step in a child’s development of ownership understanding.
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* Associate Dean for Research & Faculty Development, Professor of Law, Chapman University‘s Dale E. Fowler School of Law. J.D., 1998, Cornell Law School. I would like to share my thanks for helpful comments from Danny Bogart and Richard Redding, and for the invaluable assistance of Jennifer Spinella in reviewing drafts of this project.
