In recent years, criminal prosecutors have pursued homicide charges against the parents of teenaged school shooters. Two high-profile cases—one from Michigan and one from Georgia—provide paradigmatic examples. In each case, the parents provided their children with weapons and ammunition despite obvious signs of each child’s dangerousness and instability. Criminal liability for such reckless conduct is appropriate. But homicide charges are not. This Article critiques this new trend in prosecutions as distorting the substantive criminal law to obtain an outcome that is otherwise unavailable without criminal code reform.
It is a long-held criminal law tenet that intentional wrongful conduct by one party—such as a school shooter—severs the chain of causation that might otherwise tie earlier wrongdoing—such as the provision of weapons— to prohibited results. In order to seek convictions against the parents of school shooters, prosecutors and judges have been discarding this foundational tenet of criminal causation and replacing it with a tort-like assessment of simple foreseeability. This distorts the substantive criminal law in dangerous ways, radically expanding the number of people and types of acts that can be said to have caused the deaths in question, misattributing blame, producing punishment out of proportion to culpability, and undermining the criminal law’s commitment to free will.
Meanwhile, more appropriate theories of liability, such as accomplice liability, are foreclosed by strict mens rea requirements that do not reflect the parents’ wrongful acts in these cases. Prosecutors thus find themselves stuck between pursuing inappropriate charges and taking no action at all.
To forestall any further corruption of the criminal law’s causation doctrines, and to more accurately sanction the parents’ problematic conduct, this Article calls for the creation of a new class of accomplice liability: reckless accomplices. A reckless accomplice is one who is aware of a substantial and unjustifiable risk that their actions will materially facilitate another’s criminal wrongdoing. Importantly, unlike traditional accomplices, who share a criminal purpose with the perpetrator, reckless accomplices would not be liable for the crimes they facilitated. Rather, legislators should create a standalone crime with punishment statutorily cabined to reflect the accomplice’s individual contribution to the crime. In most cases, this would be a small fraction of the punishment authorized for the principal offender. Criminalizing reckless accomplices in this manner would provide a relief valve for our punitive instincts in the wake of sensational tragedies, without the overcriminalization and overpunishment that attend homicide prosecutions. And it may, more broadly, invite us to reconsider the derivative nature of accomplice liability generally, which holds accomplices responsible for harm that is more properly attributable to the acts of others.
Originalists are increasingly turning to a general-law theory of constitutional rights. Under this theory, constitutional enactment declared but did not create constitutional rights. The content of those rights was, and remains, a question of general law—a species of common law, regularly employed at the Founding, that transcends jurisdictional boundaries. This preoccupation with general law has precipitated a wave of scholarship developing general-law accounts of various constitutional rights. Yet the nature of general law itself remains poorly understood.
This Article offers a theory of general law. Using philosophical methods to reexamine early American cases and recent work in legal history, the Article finds that general law depended on morality. To the extent that constitutional law consists of general law, identifying constitutional law calls for moral reasoning. This is not pure moral reasoning employed from an armchair but rather applied moral reasoning that accounts for customs, legal texts, institutional roles, and other social facts, all filtered through lawyers’ specialized training and experience.
The implications for originalism are striking. First, the general-law theory of constitutional rights requires reconceiving the core originalist principles of fixation and constraint, as general law satisfies those principles only in the sense and to the extent that morality does. Second, applying general law can be seen as either finding or making law; the distinction turns on one’s view of the nature of law and is of no consequence for adjudication. Third, the theory supports an approach to adjudication that centers on moral reasoning and is consistent with a range of non-originalist approaches.
Modern arbitration clauses hide a dirty secret: many don’t actually provide for genuine arbitration. These provisions masquerade as mutual commitments to fair and efficient private dispute resolution but, in truth, are mere imitations of genuine arbitration provisions. Some reserve for the drafter the power to amend or terminate the clause at will without notice or consent; others design the arbitration process to ensure bias from the start; still others depart so radically from the bilateral, informal model blessed by the Supreme Court that they scarcely resemble arbitration at all. These arrangements are arbitration in name only, falling outside the Federal Arbitration Act’s (FAA) scope, which extends only to the enforcement of authentic arbitration agreements.
Much turns on the threshold question of whether a valid arbitration clause exists. Once a court classifies a clause as “arbitration,” the FAA’s machinery activates: state-law defenses are narrowed by federal preemption, delegation provisions channel validity challenges to the arbitrator, and courts must stay litigation and compel arbitration under §§ 3 and 4 of the FAA. But when a clause fails to qualify as arbitration in the first instance, the FAA never applies. No preemption, no delegation, no pro-arbitration presumption—just the application of ordinary contract law. Yet courts routinely treat the label “arbitration” as dispositive, extending FAA protection to provisions that lack arbitration’s basic attributes and enabling sham regimes to proliferate in consumer and employment contracts.
This Article recovers arbitration’s definitional boundaries. Drawing on the FAA’s text and legislative history, and on the Supreme Court’s repeated emphasis on arbitration’s defining features, it identifies three core prerequisites—structural neutrality, procedural minimalism, and mutual obligation. Clauses that lack these features are not simply flawed arbitration agreements—they are not FAA-protected arbitration at all.
This definitional clarity is especially urgent today. Corporations, seeking to stave off mass arbitration, are rewriting their clauses to impose exhaustion requirements, batching rules, queuing regimes, and other procedural chokepoints that transform streamlined dispute resolution into a bureaucratic obstacle course. Plaintiffs are increasingly challenging these anti-mass-arbitration provisions as exceeding arbitration’s definitional boundaries—yet courts lack principled tools for distinguishing genuine arbitration from its counterfeits. A threshold inquiry into whether a provision truly constitutes arbitration would prevent the FAA’s protections from extending to arrangements that bear arbitration’s name but not its substance.
As technology advances and more Americans use the internet to get their news, AI-generated “deepfakes” have become a powerful tool for misinformation. One common use of deepfakes is to make fake, but convincing, videos of electoral candidates or government officials. Deepfakes pose particular harm to local governments and officials because, unlike federal leaders, local leaders usually do not have the financial resources to fund the counterspeech sufficient to disprove deepfakes. Thus, to help defend the integrity of local governments, this Note argues that every state should enact legislation prohibiting deepfakes of public officials and proposes a First Amendment-compliant framework for doing so. This Note proposes that a deepfake statute survives constitutional scrutiny if it meets the following criteria: (1) it targets the medium of deepfakes rather than the accuracy of the speech; (2) it uses precise language defining the scope of the law; (3) it includes carveouts to exclude people from liability if they include a reasonable disclaimer clarifying the video is a deepfake; (4) it contains no time-based restrictions on applicability; and (5) it provides for injunctive relief and criminal penalties consistent with existing falsity statutes.
Whose Burden Is It Anyway? A Historical Resolution to Burden Allocation Under Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 12(b)(3)
Today, venue is generally treated as secondary to jurisdiction: statutory, waivable, and concerned with where litigation should proceed, rather than whether it should proceed at all. Yet the courts of appeals remain split over a basic question of federal venue procedure: who bears the burden of proof when a defendant moves to dismiss for improper venue under Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 12(b)(3)? Though seemingly technical, in practice, burden allocation can determine whether a suit survives.
This Note offers the first historically grounded approach to resolving Rule 12(b)(3)’s burden allocation problem and argues that the circuit majority approach rests on a doctrinal error. Most circuits place the burden on the plaintiff, often by analogizing venue to jurisdiction and requiring the plaintiff to justify her chosen forum once challenged. The Sixth Circuit recently adopted this approach in Tobien v. Nationwide General Insurance Co. But that analogy collapses venue into jurisdiction, importing jurisdiction’s constitutionalized limitations into venue’s waivable statutory framework. The minority approach, led by the Third Circuit in Myers v. American Dental Association, instead treats improper venue as what it is: a waivable, procedural defense that only delays litigation and operates like other affirmative defenses that allocate the burden of proof on the movant.
Today’s dispute about Rule 12(b)(3)’s burden allocation can be resolved by looking to yesterday’s procedural requirements. At common law, objections to venue’s “place of trial” were disfavored by courts and existed as dilatory pleas in abatement. The plea in abatement, which objected to the technical aspects of a particular suit but not its merits, was strictly policed by the court, easily waived, and required the movant to bear the burden of proof. As American procedure evolved, the Supreme Court constitutionalized jurisdiction while Congress separated venue by statute, keeping improper venue as a waivable privilege of the defendant. The creation of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure repackaged, rather than repudiated, the inherited procedural burdens of the Federal Rule’s predecessors. Read against its historical background, Rule 12(b)(3) is an outlier only because modern courts have lost sight of where it came from.
This Note advances a clear rule: when properly raised, the movant should bear the burden of proving improper venue under Rule 12(b)(3). Not only is the movant in the best position to answer whether venue is improper, but venue transfer mechanisms under 28 U.S.C. §§ 1404 and 1406 make the rule procedurally and normatively attractive. Placing the burden on the movant would reduce gamesmanship and ensure that a procedural threshold does not become an evidentiary barrier to adjudication on the merits.