You might have heard about the Florida lawyer who opposed a pregnant attorney’s request for a continuance. Here’s the story: A defense attorney, Christen Luikart, sought a trial continuance because (or at least in part because) she is pregnant, and her due date might conflict with the trial. The plaintiff’s attorney, Paul Reid, opposed the motion. The judge held a hearing on June 4; she granted the continuance. The end.
Well, of course, that’s not really the end. Last week–a month and a half after the hearing–The American Lawyer wrote a story about the request and opposition. Above the Law followed suit with a story headlined “Biglaw Partner Accuses Small-Firm Litigator Of Using Pregnancy To Delay Trial.” Similarly, the American Lawyer story claimed Mr. Reid “suggest[ed] [Ms. Luikart] became pregnant as a ploy to delay the litigation.” A day after the story broke, Mr. Reid had been suspended by his law firm.
But that wasn’t the end either. Then came the “backlash to the backlash.” Professor David Bernstein wrote a post over at the Volokh Conspiracy entitled “The Outrage Machine Claims a Victim: A Play in Seven Acts.” The implication of Prof. Bernstein’s post is clear: Mr. Reid didn’t really do anything to warrant a suspension. But a mob of SJWs overreacted to a mundane filing, Mr. Reid’s law firm caved to the hysteria, and now a man who really didn’t do anything wrong has become the victim of “a click-bait-driven outrage cycle.”
Maybe. Continue reading
Like many states, Washington has its own citation rules. The Washington Style Sheet tells Washington judges and lawyers to use The Bluebook—with a few exceptions. So, for example, instead of citing statutes with “Wash. Rev. Code” we can just use “RCW.” And we don’t need to provide the publication date or publisher for citations to statutes. Huzzah! And instead of using just P.2d or P.3d to cite Washington cases, we also use Wn. App. and Wn.2d (no space!) as additional parallel citations. Continue reading
In State v. Yallup, Division 3 of the Court of Appeals provides some advice to parties on what to do if the trial court does not timely enter findings of fact. I was not aware of this being a big problem, but apparently it is—especially when the trial judge retires to “spend much of [his] time at sea” before the findings can be entered. Here’s the Court of Appeals’ full discussion of the issue in Yallup along with recommendations to counsel faced with this problem in future cases: Continue reading
If you read this blog, you know that the Washington State Supreme Court recently rejected horizontal stare decisis among the Divisions of the Court of Appeals. They were pretty clear about it:
We reject any kind of “horizontal stare decisis” between or among the divisions of the Court of Appeals.
In re Arnold, 410 P.3d 1133, 1139 (Wash. 2018). Any kind! That’s pretty vehement.
When the Court issued Arnold, I was a bit confused. The Supreme Court seemed concerned that a Division should not feel “bound” by another Division. But the Court of Appeals in Arnold never said it was bound. Instead, it was just following its sister Division for prudential reasons.
Which brings us to today’s Court of Appeals decision from Division 1 in State v. Sullivan. The Sullivan court does not cite Arnold, but it does rely on precedent from another Division. Here’s the Court of Appeals rejecting one of the appellant’s arguments:
Sullivan offers no evidence that the jury failed to deliberate as a whole. Instead, Sullivan’s argument relies entirely on speculation, arguing “it is safe to assume one or more jurors left the jury room. . . , if, for no other reason than to use a bathroom” during the two hours of deliberations. “[S]peculation that a juror may have left the jury room during deliberations . . . is insufficient to warrant review under RAP 2.5(a)(3).” State v. St. Peter, 1 Wn. App. 2d 961, 963, 408 P.3d 361 (2018).[n2]
And here’s the problem. The Sullivan court relies on St. Peter and only St. Peter for this point of law. But St. Peter is not a Supreme Court case. It’s not even a case from Division 1 of the Court of Appeals. Instead, St. Peter was decided by Division 3.
Well, not quite. They didn’t call me out by name. But still… Yikes.
Last month I wrote about In re Arnold, a then-pending case in the Washington Supreme Court involving stare decisis and the state’s intermediate Court of Appeals. I argued that the Supreme Court should stay out of it. Let the Court of Appeals figure out its own rules for stare decisis. Or perhaps the Supreme Court could use the rulemaking process or recommend that the legislature clarify the Court of Appeals’ structure so that stare decisis could work more smoothly.
The Supreme Court did not take my advice. In a unanimous opinion (!) the Court dove right in, holding that a Division of the Court of Appeals should not follow the decisions of other Divisions. I can appreciate the Court’s desire to resolve this problem. But unfortunately, I think the Court’s decision raises more questions than it answers. Here are a few: Continue reading
You know the line about a bad restaurant: “The food is terrible. And the portions are so small!” Well, this is the blog version of that restaurant. It’s not a good post. And it’s so long.
Here’s my excuse: This post is about a currently pending case in the Washington Supreme Court that seeks to set a rule of stare decisis for the state’s intermediate court of appeals. So things get abstract pretty quickly. This is a case about the law about law about law. Yup, you read that right: It’s meta-meta-law. First we’ve got the substantive law: the three-part test, the scienter requirement, the proper jury instruction, the meaning of the statutory term, &c. That’s the law. And then there’s stare decisis—i.e., the law about that law. A court might disagree with a prior decision on the substantive law. The applicable rule of stare decisis tells the court whether or when the court gets to depart from that substantive law. But who determines the relevant rule of stare decisis? And on what basis is that rule determined? That’s the law about the law about the law. And it gets a bit messy.
But first, some background…
Well, our long national nightmare is over. The Spring 2017 volume of the Journal of Legal Education has hit the digital newsstands; this volume includes my review essay on the latest edition of every lawyer’s favorite citation guide, The Bluebook. Early reviews of my essay have been uniformly… mediocre:
“[David Ziff] reviews the Bluebook”
—Ryan Calo, UW School of Law
— Cristian Farias, Huffington Post
“Everybody knows The Bluebook sucks. What this article presupposes is—maybe it doesn’t?”
— Ron Fisher, Latham & Watkins
“I nearly puked but I’ll still read it”
—Sasha Moss, R Street Institute
“Scariest thing I’ve seen today… by far!”
—Eric Segall, Georgia State University College of Law
“Anyone who wrote a 27 page book review of the Bluebook is not to be trusted.”
— Jim Tyre, Electronic Frontier Foundation
Okay, so maybe those reviews are not great. But I’m pretty sure they were offered in the playful spirit shared by the essay itself. Seriously. I figured I couldn’t take myself too seriously while writing a 27-page book review of a legal citation manual. So while I certainly intended the essay to raise some important issues, I also tried to make it a fun read. I hope you enjoy it!