Law and literature ranges wide. Scholars use Shakespeare to illuminate issues of justice, Dickens to understand trusts and estates, and J.K. Rowling to explain the law of nations. But an important subset of this field has been hitherto neglected: the study of the names of law's protagonists-law and onomastics.

This Essay takes the first step into this promising arena by identifying a previously unexplored category of cases, which it dubs "legal aptonyms." Many are familiar with aptonyms but lack the vocabulary to describe them. Aptonyms—literally "apt names"—are those proper names that are "regarded as (humorously) appropriate to a person's profession or personal characteristics." Think of Shakespeare's quick-tempered Sir Hotspur, Dickens's acerbic Mrs. Sowerberry, or Rowling's pernicious Draco Malfoy. Although the study of aptonyms is widespread in other fields, it has yet to make inroads into law. Until now.

In December 2011, Judge Malphrus of the South Carolina family court ordered Matt and Melanie Capobianco to relinquish custody of Veronica, their two-year-old, adopted daughter, to her biological father, Dusten Brown. A federal statute known as the Indian Child Welfare Act ("ICWA") mandated Veronica's return.  However, the court's decision to return Veronica pursuant to this law incited national outrage and strident calls for the Act's repeal. While this outrage was misplaced, it may nonetheless have influenced the U.S. Supreme Court's decision to hear the appeal. The case of Adoptive Couple v. Baby Girl is emotionally complicated, but it is not legally complex. Therefore, the Court's interest is surprising and likely means that this case will determine more than the fate of a single child.

The court returned Veronica Capobianco to her biological father because the termination of his parental rights and the subsequent adoption attempt did not comply with the requirements of ICWA. South Carolina law would have permitted the involuntary termination of Brown's parental rights, but ICWA supersedes state law and forbids such involuntary terminations. Consequently, because Brown never relinquished his rights, the family court held that Veronica was not eligible for adoption and that she must be returned to Brown. The South Carolina Supreme Court subsequently affirmed this decision. The court agreed that under the clear language of the Act, Brown qualified as a "parent" and that the termination of his parental rights must comply with ICWA.

Sometime this year the Supreme Court will announce its holding in Fisher v. University of Texas at Austin, a case that asks whether colleges may continue to consider race when making admissions decisions. Most Court watchers predict that the five conservative justices will vote to curtail the use of racial preferences. Lost in the weighty discussions about the scope of the Equal Protection Clause and the meaning of the Civil Rights struggle is any clear and concise explanation of how selective colleges actually make admissions decisions and how they work to fulfill the goals of affirmative action. This Essay seeks to fill the gap.

I draw the following conclusions from the two years I worked in the Admissions Office at Princeton University. As part of the job, I interviewed hundreds of high school seniors and evaluated thousands of college applications. I also helped to implement the University’s full battery of affirmative action policies. To put a fine point on it, I routinely pushed to reject white applicants with higher SAT scores and GPAs in favor of less credentialed black students.

Before Katz v. United States, a search under the Fourth Amendment required a trespass. If there was no trespass on one’s property, then there was no search. In Katz, a 1967 decision, the U.S. Supreme Court abandoned that approach, instead finding a search without a trespass based on the government’s invasion of a “reasonable expectation of privacy.” In Oliver v. United States, the Court found that trespass was not sufficient to create a search. It found no reasonable expectation of privacy in open fields, and thus no search, even though the defendant had erected “No Trespassing” signs around his property to exclude the public, consistent with state law. After Oliver, it seemed clear that trespass no longer equaled a search.

In United States v. Jones, the latest case on Fourth Amendment searches, the Court returned to trespass as a bar on warrantless searches. It held that attaching an electronic tracking device to an individual’s car constituted a search. Because attaching the device constituted a trespass, it was a search and the government was required to obtain a warrant. The majority opinion and concurrences duel on whether reviving trespass in Fourth Amendment jurisprudence is wise, but all agree on the historical point that landowners always had the right to sue for trespasses on their property, including on open fields.

Recent technological advances have allowed consumers to reinvent the mixtape. Instead of being confined to two sides of an audiocassette, people can now create playlists that stretch for hours and days on their computers, tablets, mobile devices, and MP3 players. This, in turn, has affected how people consume and listen to music, both in isolation and in groups.

As individuals and business owners in the United States use devices to store, organize, and listen to music, they inevitably run up against the boundaries of U.S. copyright law. In general, these laws affect businesses more often than private individuals, who can listen to the latest hit single on their iPod or play music to a large audience in their home without running afoul of copyright law, presuming that the audience is composed of family members and social acquaintances. In contrast, as soon as a business plays music in a public space where strangers might listen, it risks infringing the public performance right granted to rightsholders by copyright law.

This Essay examines how business practices attributable to the rise of digital music conflict with the public performance right that the Copyright Act grants to creators.

Fred R. Shapiro and Michelle Pearse's essay The Most-Cited Law Review Articles of All Time, 110 MICH. L. REV. 1483 (2012), omitted an article:

Owen M. Fiss, Groups and the Equal Protection Clause, 5 PHIL. & PUB. AFF. 107 (1976).

Professor Fiss's article should have been listed in 72nd place (with 729 citations) in Table I, Most-Cited Law Review Articles of All Time. Professor Fiss's article fell into the category of articles published in nonlegal journals with over 50 percent of the citations to them occurring in legal journals. See Shapiro & Pearse, supra, at 1487-88. This category by its nature was impossible for Mr. Shapiro to capture completely. With this correction, Professor Fiss enters into a tie with Frank Michelman as the only scholars with four articles on the all-time list.

On February 23 of this year, the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals invalidated a California statute permitting victims of the Armenian genocide to file insurance claims, finding that the state's use of the label "Genocide" intruded on the federal government's conduct of foreign affairs. This decision, Movsesian v. Versicherung AG, addresses foreign affairs federalism—the division of authority between the states and the federal government. Just one month later, the Supreme Court weighed in on another foreign affairs issue: the separation of foreign relations powers within the federal government. In Zivotofsky v. Clinton, the Supreme Court ordered the lower courts to help referee a conflict between the executive and legislative branches of the federal government concerning how Jerusalem—born American citizens list their country of birth on their passports. The former case presented an issue of federalism and the latter an issue of separation of powers; yet both cases sought to delineate foreign affairs authority in the United States.

This Essay addresses the relationship between the states and the federal executive in foreign affairs—a federalism question—in light of coming separation-of-powers decisions. The Supreme Court has called upon the courts to articulate the boundaries of executive and legislative authority within the federal government, but in so doing, the courts indirectly will provide guidance about the division between the federal government and the state.

The comment period for the proposed regulations to be promulgated under the Volcker Rule expired on February 13, 2012. The rulemakers received over 16,000 comments during that period, in what one commentator described as a "fecal storm." Though that description is hopefully an exaggeration, it is safe to say that the Rule's implementation has been contentious. The Volcker Rule, named for former chairman of the Federal Reserve Paul Volcker, is a component of the Dodd-Frank Act, which Congress passed in response to the recent financial crisis. The Rule's statutory provision charges the nation's financial regulators with issuing a body of regulations that expand upon the statutory provision. The rulemakers have issued a set of proposed regulationswhich were meant to go into effect no later than July 21, 2012, but were overdue as of the publication of this Essay.

In this Essay, I briefly discuss potential applications of the Volcker Rule's hedging exemption. In Part I, I make note of the fact that many hedges put on by banking entities will not be "proprietary trades" in the first instance because they will be long-term hedges. Although these long-term hedges need not rely on the hedging exemption to be lawful, short-term hedges must. In Part II, I argue that the no-new-risks requirement, if read literally, would render the hedging exemption inert because all hedges create new risks. In Part III, I propose a simple fix to the no-new-risks requirement that either the rulemakers should incorporate into the regulations before promulgation or that decisionmakers should read into the regulations after promulgation.

Throw a stone into a room full of law professors, and it is virtually impossible to hit someone who will defend perpetual trusts. Yet since 1995, eighteen states have repealed their rules against perpetuities, and there are now twenty-one states that permit trusts to last forever. Many academics have responded with a virtual pile-on, calling the repeals a "race to the bottom" at best and "loony" at worst. Lawrence Waggoner, Professor Emeritus at the University of Michigan School of Law and Reporter for the Restatement (Third) of Property: Wills and Other Donative Transfers, has made another contribution to the scrum. Professor Waggoner does not just dislike perpetual trusts. They are, in his description, "folly."

Professor Waggoner nominally aims his critique at wealthy individuals who desire perpetual trusts and the lawmakers who enable them by passing favorable legislation. He lodges five specific objections: (1) after a certain period of time, the beneficiaries of perpetual trusts will be insufficiently related to the trust creator; (2) after a certain period of time, there will be too many beneficiaries of a perpetual trust; (3) perpetual trusts will be expensive to manage; (4) outdated trust instruments will hamper management of perpetual trusts; and (5) trustee turnover will negatively impact perpetual trusts. This Essay considers each of his objections in turn, and concludes that Professor Waggoner's concerns are misplaced and exaggerated. Perpetual trusts raise important policy concerns, to be sure, but "folly" is in the eye of the beholder. The legal system does not yet have enough experience with perpetual trusts to understand their full implications. A more prudent approach would be to embrace a variation on the long-standing approach to perpetuities problems: let's wait and see.

In 1975, the Brothers Malone took the entrance exam for the Boston Fire Department. At the time, the Department was under a court-ordered affirmative action plan: it divided its pool of test-takers into groups of black and white applicants and gave substantial preference to those in the former. The Brothers listed themselves as white and didn't make the cut. In 1977, the Brothers Malone again took the entrance exam for the Boston Fire department, this time listing themselves as black. The Brothers became firemen. Within a few years, someone at the Fire Department grew suspicious of the Malones. An investigation ensued. The Department determined that the Brothers had falsified their applications. Eventually a Suffolk County Judge was forced to decide whether the Malones were black or white. Judge Herbert Wilkins found them white.

This Essay argues that squeamishness about deciding people's race can explain some otherwise baffling trends in affirmative action jurisprudence. The Supreme Court's fear of letting government agencies decide, as a factual matter, the race of individual students may explain its odd and seemingly inconsistent reluctance to use race as a factor in admissions. Part I discusses various legal strategies for adjudicating race and why we may be uncomfortable with them. Part II argues that Gratz v. Bollinger and Grutter v. Bollinger can be explained through the lens of the Malones, using the Fifth Circuit's reading in Fisher v. The University of Texas, the challenge to Texas's affirmative action program heading to the Supreme Court this term. Part III proposes a new reading of Grutter — arguing that Grutter serves to protect a school's right to select students on nonracial grounds — and suggests some implications for the program at issue in Fisher.

In a world where circumstances never changed and where every judicial decision was unassailably correct, applying the doctrine of stare decisis would be a breeze. Fidelity to precedent and commitment to sound legal interpretation would meld into a single, coherent enterprise. That world, alas, is not the one we live in. Like so much else in law, the concept of stare decisis encompasses a series of trade-offs-and difficult ones at that. Prominent among them is the tension between allowing past decisions to remain settled and establishing a body of legal rules that is flexible enough to adapt and improve over time.

Notwithstanding pervasive disagreement over the application of stare decisis to particular disputes, the doctrine is well established in American jurisprudence. Indeed, the Supreme Court has gone so far as to describe stare decisis as indispensable to the rule of law. But as Jeremy Waldron skillfully reminds us, justifying the doctrine requires more than platitudes. Even a proposition as fundamental and seemingly intuitive as the ability of stare decisis to promote the rule of law conceals a considerable amount of analytical nuance. Professor Waldron concentrates on developing what we might think of as the rule-of-law case for precedent. Central to his project is the recognition that rule-of-law benefits arise at several distinct points along the path from initial ruling to subsequent application. The touchstone is the principle of "generality," pursuant to which individual jurists subjugate their personal beliefs to the vision of a unified court working across space and time to fashion generally applicable norms.

In this Essay, I wish to build on Professor Waldron's thoughtful analysis by saying something more about the other side of stare decisis. The rule-of-law benefits of stare decisis are invariably accompanied by rule-of-law costs. In light of those costs, the ultimate question is not whether there are ways in which stare decisis promotes the rule of law. Rather, it is whether stare decisis advances the rule of law on net. Some departures from precedent can promote the rule of law, and some reaffirmances can impair it. Even if the rule of law were the only value that mattered, excessive fidelity to flawed precedents would be cause for concern. That rule-of-law ambivalence, I will suggest, should be brought to bear in calibrating the strength of deference that judicial precedents receive.

With Stare Decisis and Constitutional Text, Jonathan Mitchell has produced what I think is the most interesting and creative textual defense (or at least partial defense) to date of the use of horizontal precedent in federal constitutional cases. Mitchell's careful analysis of the Supremacy Clause is fascinating and instructive, and he does an impeccable job of drawing out the implications of his premise that the Supremacy Clause prescribes only a very limited choice-of-law rule-a rule that does not, by its own terms, specifically elevate the Constitution above federal statutes and treaties. His innovative and intriguing framework yields four distinct conclusions about the permissible uses of precedent. In brief, under Mitchell's analysis, the Supremacy Clause forbids using precedent (1) to invalidate congressional statutes (because congressional statutes are the supreme law of the land while prior court decisions are not) or (2) to uphold constitutionally challenged state laws (because the Constitution is the supreme law of the land while prior court decisions and state-law interpretations of the Constitution are not). Yet, according to Mitchell, the Supremacy Clause does not forbid using precedent (3) to uphold congressional statutes (because both the Constitution and congressional statutes are equally supreme, and there is no constitutional mandate to prefer one to the other) or (4) to invalidate state laws (because neither prior court decisions nor state laws are supreme, and there is no constitutional mandate to prefer one to the other). The article is an eminently worthy contribution to a vibrant debate, and I am delighted to have the opportunity to respond to it-as well as to clarify some ambiguities in my own prior work on precedent.

The Constitution's original meaning is its meaning to those ratifying the document during a discrete time period: from its adoption by the Constitutional Convention in late 1787 until Rhode Island's ratification on May 29, 1790. Reconstructing it requires historical skills, including a comprehensive approach to sources. Jack Balkin's article Commerce fails to consider the full range of evidence and thereby attributes to the Constitution's Commerce Clause a scope that virtually no one in the Founding Era believed it had.

John P. Bringewatt's recent note makes several important observations about the Supreme Court's opinion in Snyder v. Louisiana. Although he provides reasonable support for the claim that Snyder represents a sea change in Batson jurisprudence, the US Supreme Court's fresh opinion in Thaler v. Haynes (rendered on February 22, 2010) reads the Snyder majority opinion narrowly and suggests the possibility that Snyder is not as potent as it should be. The Haynes per curiam's guarded reading of Snyder signals the need for courts to continue to conduct the bird's-eye cumulative analysis that the Court performed in Miller-El v. Dretke[hereinafter Miller-El II]. If lawyers challenging discriminatory peremptory strikes and trial courts replicate Snyder's single-juror approach but ignore concomitant Miller-El circumstantial evidence of intentional discrimination, Snyder may (counterintuitively) sap Miller-El II of its on-the-ground transformative potential. In other words, lawyers should not rely too much on the "more individualized focus" observed and applauded by the author because a narrow framing of a Batson challenge in the Snyder opinion's image (rather than a wider framing with a focus on the Miller-El factors) may fail in front of courts that view Snyder differently than does Bringewatt. A slightly different interpretation of the historical arc of the relevant cases and a critical reconsideration of Snyder's circumstances foreshadow the outcome in Haynes and reveal nuances that suggest problems with Bringewatt's theory.

A response to Nelson Tebbe & Robert L. Tsai, Constitutional Borrowing, 108 Mich. L. Rev. 462 (2010).

Crediting the perception that the Constitution is a poorly cut puzzle whose variously configured pieces don't match, Nelson Tebbe and Robert Tsai propose that the stand-alone parts of freedom and equality can be merged and mutually enlarged through the act of borrowing. They are mistaken. While Thomas Jefferson wrote that ideas may be appropriated without being diminished and so "freely spread from one to another over the globe," the equality and freedom the Constitution addresses as actualities are constrained by a basic, familiar, and inescapable rule of financial accounting. Just as assets and liabilities must be in balance, freedoms are only acquired at the exacting expense of equality; no amount of borrowing can alter the equation. While as a matter of principle we are all equally entitled to be "let alone," this "most comprehensive right . . . the right most valued by civilized men," is not a one-size-fits-all proposition. While "the poorest man in his cottage" and the richest man in his mansion may both "bid defiance to all the forces of the Crown," the amount of privacy they enjoy as a matter of fact is incomparable. The privacy enjoyed by those unable to afford lodgings of any kind and forced to take refuge in their cars is further diminished as a matter of law, while the "homeless" sleeping out of doors and exposed to the elements enjoy no expectation of privacy apart from what they manage to secure in duffle bags. The Court's express rejection of the claim that the "‘need for decent shelter' and the ‘right to retain peaceful possession of one's home' are fundamental interests which are particularly important to the poor"-like its assertion that education is not a "fundamental right"-follows from the proposition that laws "having different effects on the wealthy and the poor" are not unconstitutional, and from the consequence of that proposition: that the freedoms most valued by Americans are for purchase. The wealthier the man, the more unequal the share he can afford.

In our article, Negligence and Insufficient Activity, we proposed that tort scholarship has overlooked the risk that injurers will behave strategically in setting their activity levels. Whereas the standard literature has predicted that injurers who are subject to a negligence regime will often invest efficiently in care but choose excessive activity levels, we showed that they may do exactly the opposite: injurers may deliberately restrict their activity to avoid investments in socially desirable precaution. After reviewing the conditions that may give rise to the risk of insufficient activity, we examined the ways in which the legal system can minimize the costs of such behavior. We hoped that our article would spark new interest in the interplay between tort liability and levels of care and activity. We are fortunate that three prominent tort scholars have already provided important insights on both our positive argument and our policy recommendations.

These responses vary in their assessments of our contribution to legal scholarship. While some find that our article addresses an "interesting omission in tort law scholarship" and highlights a "missing paradigm" that is "central to negligence doctrine," others consider it a "novel brick on a road that runs in the wrong direction." Nevertheless, and although the responses focus on different parts of the article, they share several important objections to our analysis.

A response to John F. Manning, Federalism and the Generality Problem in Constitutional Interpretation, 122 Harv. L. Rev. 2003 (2009).

Professor John Manning's analysis of the Supreme Court's recent federalism decisions works as a platform to further the cause of textualism. His argument fails to persuade, however, because the textualism he says the Court should embrace in federalism cases is antithetical to the atextual nature of the Court's jurisdiction to adjudicate the constitutionality of legislation. Manning prefaces his work by telling readers that his analysis is not an end in itself. His aim, rather, is to "use the methodology" the cases embrace as "a window into the commonalities, if any, between statutory and constitutional interpretation." But Manning's overly programmatic approach does not so much open this portal as close it shut. His insistence that legislative acts and the Constitution are alike is impossible to square with the theory of our written constitution that has prevailed ever since John Marshall and Alexander Hamilton first propounded it: that the acts of a superior must trump those of every inferior authority.

A response to David Gilo & Ehud Guttel, Negligence and Insufficient Activity: The Missing Paradigm in Torts, 108 Mich L. Rev. 277 (2009).

In Negligence and Insufficient Activity: The Missing Paradigm in Torts, David Gilo and Ehud Guttel argue that negligence law encourages inefficiently high and low levels of activity because negligence law ordinarily does not take activity levels into account. They suggest that the law should impose liability for failing to take safety precautions-even where precautions would not be cost-justified-whenever the threat of this liability negates the incentive for an actor to choose an insufficient level of activity. Until now, the literature on the interaction between liability standards and activity levels has failed to recognize the possibility of inefficiently insufficient activity. I commend Gilo and Guttel for both their insight and their explication of it.

A response to David Gilo & Ehud Guttel, Negligence and Insufficient Activity: The Missing Paradigm in Torts, 108 Mich L. Rev. 277 (2009).

Professors David Gilo and Ehud Guttel have written an important article on the tendency of the negligence rule to produce inefficiently low activity levels. In Negligence and Insufficient Activity: The Missing Paradigm in Torts, the authors claim insufficient activity to be the "missing paradigm" in tort theory. Although I agree with Gilo and Guttel that this missing paradigm is central to negligence doctrine, I disagree with them about how insufficient activity levels arise.

A response to David Gilo & Ehud Guttel, Negligence and Insufficient Activity: The Missing Paradigm in Torts, 108 Mich. L. Rev. 277 (2009).

Within the law and economics field, there often surfaces a near hypnotic attraction to the Hand formula as the one and only tool that drives tort law toward economic efficiency. Hand's intuition was, of course, that the test for efficiency requires a balancing of three variables. The burden of taking particular precautions is compared to the expected loss from some activity, which in turn consists of the likelihood of some particular harm multiplied by its anticipated severity. Liability attaches only where the burden of precautions is lower than the anticipated accident costs. By forcing cost-effective precautions and no others on potential tortfeasors, so the story goes, tort law weeds out desirable from undesirable conduct.