A heap of sand, law review publishing, and the high cost of legal education [updated]

There’s a paradox called Sorites Paradox which takes numerous, related forms.  Here’s one.  You’ve got a heap of sand.  If you take away one grain, do you still have a heap?  Of course.  Therefore, given that Heap – 1 grain = Heap, “[i]t follows, absurdly, that even a single grain makes a heap. Thus soritical reasoning appears to show both that no number of grains make a heap and that any number of grains make a heap.”

It really isn’t much of a paradox.  The problem, of course, is in the vagueness of language—specifically, the word heap.  We all know that if you keep removing grains of sand, one by one, eventually you will no longer have a heap.  People may not agree on the exact point at which that occurs, but we would all agree, for example, that a mere two remaining grains of sand, sitting sadly side by side, is no longer a heap.

Law Review Submission Angsting Thread -- Fall 2021

For law geeks like me, late January and early July are among the best times of the year.  These dates mark the beginning of each the two law review article submission cycles.  (For outsiders who are interested in how this bizarre process works, see my article on the subject.)  This Fall cycle I'm submitting my 37th law review article to the journals for publication.  It's titled "Disorderly Conduct: An Investigation into Police and Prosecutor Practices."

In recent years I've found that half the fun of submitting and publishing many of my first 36 articles has been following the "Prawf's Blawg angsting thread" throughout the submission cycle.  It's basically a blog post and comment thread where law professors, wannabe law professors, and even a few actual practicing lawyer-authors (like me) post a wide range of questions, comments, and news about the article submission and publishing process.  Debates and arguments have even broken out from time to time.  (To see what it looks like, you can find last submission cycle's blog post and comment thread here.)

More law review fun

My last post discussed a new -- well, new to me -- law professor publishing trick: the bait and switch.  And now for some more law review fun.  Over at Outside the Law School Scam (OTLSS), there's a post about a Kentucky law prof who not only denies that professor scholarship raises the cost of legal education for students, but who also wrote this on the twitter:

The Law Professor Bait-and-Switch Trick

I’m convinced that law professor misbehavior is driven by the group’s rather unhealthy obsession with rank and prestige.  More specifically, many law profs have never practiced law, and most of those who have practiced have done so for very short periods of time (1.4 years, according to one study) in very sanitized settings (e.g., writing briefs but never meeting a real-life client, let alone representing one in a business transaction or jury trial).  Without any law practice experience to draw upon, this leaves the law profs to judge each other by the U.S. News ranking of their law schools and of the law journals in which they publish.

Dirty Little Secrets (of Law Review Publishing)

The vast majority of law review articles are written by law professors and professor-wannabes.  And among this group, prestige is the most important thing when placing an article.  Many professors admit that few people will ever read their writing, but their colleagues will read their CVs.  Therefore, a publication in the Duke Law Journal means an article is really good, the Washington Law Review means it's okay, the Hastings Law Journal means it barely earns a passing grade, and anything below that, well, many professors believe their work is better left unpublished than to associate it with journals of schools ranked below 60 in the US News & World Report.

On the absurdity of law schools and law reviews

I’ve written several times about the low hours and great pay enjoyed by law professors (many of whom can’t appreciate their situation because they’ve never experienced the intense stress, crazy hours, and low pay enjoyed by most lawyers).  Add on the usual law prof benefits (e.g., health insurance, sabbaticals, summers off, research stipends, etc.) and its no wonder that “law professor” has appeared near the top of several “best-jobs” lists.  And I’ve also written about how some profs launched themselves into the financial stratosphere with creative benefits called “forgivable loans.”  But there’s yet another benefit that, although I had never heard of it, turns out to be relatively common for those in the academy: spousal hiring.

Legal news from around the world wide web

The legal profession is rife with nonsense, and I can't possibly write about all of it.  So here are some great posts from around the www to keep The Dog's readers up to date.

First, prosecutor misconduct.  For me, outside of not-guilty verdicts, some of the sweetest moments in law practice came when prosecutors hid evidence, but then accidentally disclosed it anyway.  (One example is the smoking-gun memo that gets mistakenly placed in my discovery packet.)  But prosecutor misconduct is a serious problem, and we can't always count on their ineptitude to serve as a self-correcting mechanism.  For a great post on prosecutor misconduct (with courtroom video at the bottom), check out The Irreverent Lawyer.

Second, law school shenanigans.  Sure, law profs make a lot of money for a short work year and a 3-4 class per year workload.  That's no longer shocking.  For shocking, visit Outside the Law School Scam to learn how an unkempt dude who went straight from law school to a professorship, and then to a deanship, collected hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of dollars in salary and other creative payments like "forgivable loans," and then still kept his professor job (though not the deanship) when it all came unglued.  

And third, law review publishing.  I once wrote a law review article with about 100 footnotes.  Then the editors sent it back and wanted 200 footnotes, including footnotes for sentences so basic they required no citation.  For example, if I write that "sometimes defendants will defend battery cases claiming self-defense," I don't need a footnote because the claim is obvious and undisputed.  After much battling of our own, we ended up settling on about 150 footnotes.  For more on the intricacies of law review publishing, including how the journals select their articles -- finally, an explanation for why the Harvard L. Rev. has thus far refused to publish my work -- visit Class Bias in Higher Education.  

Enjoy! 

Summer hiatus (and good links)

Knightly and I are on summer break, where we're alternating naps and research for a new law review article.  In the meantime, checkout these blog posts for some interesting goings on.  First, and most significantly, there is good news for practicing lawyers: law school enrollments will be down yet again this fall.  If these declines continue, eventually the huge backlog of unemployed lawyers (and the massive numbers of underemployed lawyers) might be able to find suitable work -- though we are a long way off from that utopia.

This graph nicely illustrates the dipping  plummeting applications over the past decade.  This post at Third Tier Reality (a great blog, but not for the law professor or the overly sensitive) discusses how this fall's entering class of law students will likely be the smallest since 1974, even though we now have dozens more law schools than when Steely Dan was making magic.

Legal education potluck: judges, lawyers, law schools, law profs, and law reviews

I can’t quite explain my morbid fascination with the state of legal education — well, maybe I could, but it would take too long and require way too much introspection.  In any case, I’ve often blamed law schools for judges’ lack of understanding of basic legal principles.  But that’s not to say that practicing lawyers, on average, know the law any better than the judges.  It’s just that lawyers’ ignorance of the law is not as obvious to me.  For example, when a prosecutor misstates the law, there is no way to know if: (1) he/she really doesn’t understand the law; or (2) he/she is intentionally misstating the law to try to trick the judge — something I’ve suspected, and prosecutors have even gleefully confessed to me, on several occasions.  But regardless, the point remains: the judiciary’s utter indifference to the rule of law is still traceable to the law school industrial complex.  And a recent article by law school prof (and law school-basher) Paul Campos may have identified some root causes within the law schools.

The State of Legal Education: Are Law Profs Really to Blame?

I enjoy a good professor-bashing blog post as much as the next guy—especially when the targeted profs have said, done, or written silly things.  But today, many people like to blame law profs for the abysmal state of legal education—especially graduates’ staggering debt loads and inability to perform even basic legal tasks.  This blame comes in many forms, but a common criticism is that profs earn way too much money for publishing useless law review articles and, to compound the problem, their schools spend even more money shipping them to pricey, tuition-funded conferences to present their articles to other profs.  This, in turn, drives up the price of legal education and, worse yet, marginalizes (or displaces) real training in legal practice and legal theory.  As it turns out, however, the current state of affairs in legal academia is exactly what students have (unwittingly) asked for. 

Knightly celebrates the (temporary) revival of the confrontation clause

Knightly's celebratory play bow

The Sixth Amendment’s confrontation clause is, pretty much, what it sounds like: it gives a criminal defendant the right to cross-examine his accusers. This particular right is not a mere technicality.  We all know that talk is cheap, and criminal accusations should be tested in open court. However, judges have carved away at the right of confrontation by creating numerous exceptions by which it can be satisfied—or, more accurately, ignored—without giving the defendant the opportunity for cross-examination. In addition, our Wisconsin supreme court developed another way to get around this fundamental right: they created a far-reaching exception allowing lower courts to find that the defendant forfeited the right before trial, and therefore is not entitled to confrontation or cross-examination. And even when the United States Supreme Court held that Wisconsin’s far-reaching, pro-prosecutor “forfeiture doctrine” was unconstitutional, Wisconsin simply countered by labeling its prior forfeiture decisions (and the accompanying wrongful convictions) as harmless errors. 

But now, after Federal Defender Craig Albee’s recent appellate win in a Wisconsin federal court, the government's beloved “harmless error doctrine” has taken a serious hit—at least in one case. But this doesn’t necessarily mean that our state courts will learn their lesson and will stop violating our confrontation rights. It just means that they’ll have to create new ways to do so. So at least they’ll have to work for it. 

For more about the confrontation clause, its importance, the judicially created exceptions, and the forfeiture doctrine, read my articles Confrontation after Crawford, and Judicial (In)Discretion, and my personal favorite Dead Again.  You can find all of my articles, organized by topic, by simply going to my articles page.

"My client didn't do it, but I know who did."

When lawyers try to defend criminal cases by arguing not only that their client didn't do the crime, but also that the lawyer knows who did it, judges start to panic. (This defense is known as the wrong-person defense or the third-party defense.) Judges don't like it when defense lawyers start questioning the prosecutor's charging decision. They would much rather that the defendant simply take his medicine instead of trying to cast blame on someone else. After all, things get complicated once we entertain the possibility that the prosecutor charged the wrong person. And sometimes, judges get so crazy about this that their thinking process crosses the line that separates the merely irrational from the clinically insane. 

For example, one judge denied a murder-defendant's right to put on a wrong-person defense, "[e]ven where a third party was seen fleeing from the scene of the crime and admitted to killing other people and burying them in the very woods in which the victims' bodies were later found." Why did the judge exclude this defendant's evidence of innocence and of third-party guilt? It was simply "too threadbare to be admissible." (Interestingly, this defendant's evidence against the third party was much stronger than the prosecutor's evidence against the defendant, yet it was still considered inadequate.) In any case, this stuff makes for interesting reading, as long as it's not happening to you or your client! So check out my newest article, An Alternative to the Wrong-Person Defense, 24 George Mason U. Civil Rights L.J. 1 (2013). For links to my other articles, simply go to my articles page.

Please, no more rules

The legal profession is, in some ways, laughable.  We have endless procedural rules that come in numerous forms, including statutes, supreme court rules, appellate court decisions, local court rules, and scheduling orders.  The problem is that judges ignore these rules as fast as they (and the other lawmakers) can dream them up.  For example, you think you have the right to call witnesses at your preliminary hearing just because the statute specifically says you can?  Think again.  You think that evidence against you will be suppressed because your rights were violated?  Unlikely.  You think the prosecutor has to turn over discoverable materials within sixty days of your demand just because the scheduling order commands it?  Not even close.  And how about the most basic thing of all: you think you have the right to testify in your own defense at trial?  Only if the judge is in the mood to hear from you.  No other profession could possibly survive if its professionals were to behave the way judges do.  But where does this judicial disdain for the rule of law come from?

Law review publishing: In search of a useful ranking system

To date, I’ve published ten articles in law reviews, with an eleventh on the way.  Basically, the system works like this: I write an article, submit it to 50–100 different law journals, and wait for offers of publication. Then, after a series of emails with the editors of some of the journals, I have to decide which offer I should accept.  (After that, the article goes through a lengthy, and sometimes painful, editing process before it’s eventually published.)  My initial decision on where to publish has typically been guided by the US News rankings of law schools, which, in legal publication circles, is used as a proxy for the quality of a law school’s journal.  For example, the UCLA Law Review is published by the UCLA School of Law, which US News says is the fifteenth best law school in the land.  This means that authors would love to publish in the UCLA Law Review and, as a result, that journal may receive well over 2,000 annual submissions for about 12-15 available publication slots.  As we slide down the US News rankings—say, to the bottom fifty-or-so of our nation’s 200-plus law schools—the journals may receive only a couple hundred submissions for their 12-15 publication slots.

A response to Brian Leiter: First, don’t kill all the law reviews

Brian Leiter, a law professor, recently wrote Four Changes to the Status Quo in Legal Education That Might Be Worth Something.  Leiter has a Ph.D. in philosophy (which is one of my favorite subjects), so I like him already.  However, I strongly disagree with the third of his proposed legal education reforms, which is to “[c]ut the number of law reviews by 75%, and turn the remaining ones over to faculty supervision[.]”  It’s true, as Brian contends, there is a lot of “worthless scholarship” out there.  However, those extra articles aren’t really hurting anyone, and there are at least three good reasons to keep law reviews out of faculty hands.