Vincent Samar

This Article discusses what a “super-precedent” is in American Constitutional Law. Additionally, it describes the current criteria used to identify super-precedents and the limitations of these criteria. It then mentions the various precedents that have been afforded this august title and suggests the need for an additional criterion to ensure the continued protection of those precedents most closely associated with the protection of human rights. Finally, the article identifies three additional precedents, beyond those usually recognized, that ought to be ranked super-precedents and provides a basis for ranking all precedents, grounded in autonomy, when they either conflict with one another or encounter a compelling state interest.

The purpose of this essay is to suggest a new direction in our thinking about substantive due process that recognizes human rights in the lived experience of our fellow human beings. The applicability of the approach, at least for equal protection purposes, was hinted at by the Supreme Court’s majority opinion in Romer v. Evans, but it has never been given full consideration.1 There, Justice Kennedy noted the very real impact of a state group of people. What he did not say is how such an amendment might also impact the self-impression gays and lesbians have of themselves, although this would certainly be part of such an amendment’s impact. Moreover, legal and philosophical research in this area suggests that there may be more here than previously thought. While I do not hope to resolve every philosophical question at the heart of my legal analysis, I do intend to bring forth enough substance to answer the indeterminacy charge levied by certain Supreme Court justices and others concerning which rights should count as “fundamental” under substantive due process in part by looking at the impact such rights have on individual self-esteem. I

In this article, I argue that public education should provide a constructive forum for discussing aspects of lesbian and gay lifestyles in both primary and secondary schools. My argument is that such action is necessary to offset the way the dominant culture limits the capacities of gays and lesbians to achieve human self-fulfillment. In making this argument, I recognize that I am going beyond merely promoting social tolerance to legitimizing an actual place for discussion of the needs and interests of gays and lesbians in the society at large. The principles I will apply to make this argument are not specifically situated in legal philosophy (concerning the nature of law and its evaluation), but rather, principles of normative political philosophy (concerning ethical justifications of governmental institutions) as we might find in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights adopted by the UN in 1948.

Is there an obligation by nations, who do not themselves recognize same-sex marriage to recognize such marriages when they have been consummated abroad? Is the right to such recognition a human right? If so, what obligations do the domestic courts of various countries have to incorporate the right to same-sex marriage for their own people? Must international law recognize a right to same-sex marriage as a human right, especially if some nations have already begun to move on that track? These questions are moving to center stage as more and more countries in the EU and elsewhere are being forced to address various rights claims especially by lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered communities. At their core, these questions are troublesome not so much because of the communities they affect, but because they draw attention to a deeper set of problems concerning the relationship of domestic to international human rights law. What are the similarities and differences between these two areas of law, is there a hierarchy where one area dominates the other, do international human rights norms arise out of various domestic constitutional provisions, and what are the duties of courts (especially domestic courts) in declaring the law? Can local traditions, religious beliefs, or constitutional requirements justifiably stand in the way of extraterritorial recognition of international human rights law?

Recent U.S. Supreme Court decisions regarding the scope of the Establishment Clause have failed to provide a clear framework for determining what government actions are prohibited. Part of the problem concerns what kinds of actions constitute an establishment of religion. What criteria should determine the boundaries of an establishment challenge? Are governmental actions that may only indirectly affect religion (either positively or negatively) prohibited? This article aims to provide a coherent and normatively justified understanding of the Establishment Clause to help answer these questions by considering not just the history of the Clause or the cases the Court has decided under it, but also considering overlaps from various philosophical justifications for the Clause—including justifications from rights theory, political liberalism, utilitarianism, and communitarianism. In the process, the article eliminates from consideration the Supreme Court’s so-called “accommodationist” approach and presents a new understanding of the neutrality test that anchors itself between strict separation and the current neutrality approaches. This it does by also taking into account what in moral theory is known as the doctrine of double effect and by showing how the doctrine further limits the various judicial views to just neutrality in the new sense I suggest, while also providing both clearer and firmer conditions.

The unexpected passing of United States Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia left a vacancy on the Court in the midst of a presidential election year. As a result, the appointment process did not proceed in the same fashion as previous appointments. Instead, the Senate declared shortly after Justice Scalia’s death that it would not consider any candidate to fill the vacancy until the next president is elected. The Senate remained steadfast in this decision throughout the remainder of President Obama’s term. This Article analyzes the constitutional questions surrounding the Senate’s refusal to consider any nominee and argues the Senate has a duty to advise and consent in a timely manner. Additionally, it demonstrates how a politically-motivated delay threatens the integrity of the constitutional process for selecting judges, violates separation of powers concerns by politicizing the Court, and contradicts the express intent of the Framers of the Constitution.

Is there an independent legal method separate from the political process for handling a constitutional amendment that may be inconsistent with, or contrary to, the basic structure and rights the Federal Constitution currently inaugurates, or are courts stuck with having to accept the amendment on its face? This problem is not unique to the United States. Nor is it the same problem as whether a state constitutional amendment may violate the Federal Constitution. While I initially focus on the U.S. Constitution, I plan, before the end of this piece, to broaden out to other national constitutions as well, and certainly some of the arguments might also apply to state constitutional amendments, as we see with the controversy over the constitutionality of California’s Proposition 8. In this vein, it will make sense to consider cases from other nations, like Kesavananda Bharati v State of Kerala, in which the Supreme Court of India held that the judiciary could strike down amendments to the constitution passed by Parliament that conflict with the constitution’s “basic structure.” The U.S. Supreme Court has never addressed what constitutes the basic structure of the U.S. Constitution. This is the question addressed in this article.

Large-scale data brokers collect massive amounts of highly personal consumer information to be sold to whoever will pay their price, even at the expense of sacrificing individual privacy and autonomy in the process. In this Article, I will show how a proper understanding and justification for a right to privacy, in context to both protecting private acts and safeguarding information and states of affairs for the performance of such acts, provides a necessary background framework for imposing legal restrictions on such collections. This problem, which has already gained some attention in literature, now becomes even more worrisome, as government itself becomes a consumer of this information to fight off a domestic instantiation of the global Covid-19 pandemic. This Article proposes some definite ways in which the courts and Congress might limit both the private sector and the government’s use of such data to ensure individual autonomy will not be sacrificed.

The article argues that lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgendered (LGBT) rights are a particular instantiation of human rights. But in order to make this argument several things must be done first. Preliminarily, it should be noted that some transgendered issues fall under the rubric "gay rights," even though strictly speaking, they center most prominently on gender and not sexual orientation. Still, there gender aspects are often ignored because of concerns related to sexual orientation, such as whether a transgendered female can use a woman's washroom. Arguably, the reverse may also be true of gays, lesbians, and bisexuals, as many of society's concerns regarding this group involve their following gender roles, even though the discrimination against them is not usually seen as sex discrimination. Bearing that in mind, among the various responsibilities of this article is to define--in the broad sense--what gay and lesbian rights are. This is followed by a similar set of expressions defining what human rights are and an argument for how such rights get justified. Once that is done, the connection between gay and lesbian rights and human rights is pursued within the context of a theory of political morality that establishes the centrality of human rights to all moral concerns.

Is the current state of international governance by the United Nations and related organizations a preface to what eventually might become a world government? Is it at all similar to what was the structure of government in the United States after the adoption of the Articles of Confederation in 1781 and before adoption of the Constitution of 1787? Are changes in the way international institutions like the United Nations operate related to changes in our conceptions of the role of these institutions in providing international governance? When governmental institutions prove to be too weak to adequately perform the tasks expected of them is there a natural evolution toward greater centralization of power? If so, might an early sign of this evolution be decisions by public officials that afford greater deference to the decrees of international institutions that previously might have been sidestepped?