Last month, the U.S. Supreme Court concluded its latest Term. And over the past few weeks, the Trump administration has continued to duke it out with its adversaries in the federal courts.
To tackle these topics, as well as their intersection—in terms of how well the courts, including but not limited to the Supreme Court, are handling Trump-related cases—I interviewed Professor Pamela Karlan, a longtime faculty member at Stanford Law School. She’s perfectly situated to address these subjects, for at least three reasons.
First, Professor Karlan is a leading scholar of constitutional law. Second, she’s a former SCOTUS clerk and seasoned advocate at One First Street, with ten arguments to her name. Third, she has high-level experience at the U.S. Department of Justice (DOJ), having served (twice) as a deputy assistant attorney general in the Civil Rights Division of the DOJ.
I’ve had some wonderful guests to discuss the role of the courts today, including Judges Vince Chhabria (N.D. Cal.) and Ana Reyes (D.D.C.)—but as sitting judges, they couldn’t discuss certain subjects, and they had to be somewhat circumspect. Professor Karlan, in contrast, isn’t afraid to “go there”—and whether or not you agree with her opinions, I think you’ll share my appreciation for her insight and candor.
Show Notes:
Pamela S. Karlan bio, Stanford Law School
Pamela S. Karlan bio, Wikipedia
The McCorkle Lecture (Professor Pamela Karlan), UVA Law School
Prefer reading to listening? For paid subscribers, a transcript of the entire episode appears below.
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Three quick notes about this transcript. First, it has been cleaned up from the audio in ways that don’t alter substance—e.g., by deleting verbal filler or adding a word here or there to clarify meaning. Second, my interviewee has not reviewed this transcript, and any transcription errors are mine. Third, because of length constraints, this newsletter may be truncated in email; to view the entire post, simply click on “View entire message” in your email app.
David Lat: Welcome to the Original Jurisdiction podcast. I’m your host, David Lat, author of a Substack newsletter about law and the legal profession also named Original Jurisdiction, which you can read and subscribe to at davidlat dot Substack dot com. You’re listening to the seventy-seventh episode of this podcast, recorded on Friday, June 27.
Thanks to this podcast’s sponsor, NexFirm. NexFirm helps Biglaw attorneys become founding partners. To learn more about how NexFirm can help you launch your firm, call 212-292-1000 or email careerdevelopment at nexfirm dot com. Want to know who the guest will be for the next Original Jurisdiction podcast? Follow NexFirm on LinkedIn for a preview.
With the 2024-2025 Supreme Court Term behind us, now is a good time to talk about both constitutional law and the proper role of the judiciary in American society. I expect they will remain significant as subjects because the tug of war between the Trump administration and the federal judiciary continues—and shows no signs of abating.
To tackle these topics, I welcomed to the podcast Professor Pamela Karlan, the Montgomery Professor of Public Interest Law and Co-Director of the Supreme Court Litigation Clinic at Stanford Law School. Pam is not only a leading legal scholar, but she also has significant experience in practice. She’s argued 10 cases before the Supreme Court, which puts her in a very small club, and she has worked in government at high levels, serving as a deputy assistant attorney general in the Civil Rights Division of the U.S. Department of Justice during the Obama administration. Without further ado, here’s my conversation with Professor Pam Karlan.
Professor Karlan, thank you so much for joining me.
Pamela Karlan: Thanks for having me.
DL: So let’s start at the beginning. Tell us about your background and upbringing. I believe we share something in common—you were born in New York City?
PK: I was born in New York City. My family had lived in New York since they arrived in the country about a century before.
DL: What borough?
PK: Originally Manhattan, then Brooklyn, then back to Manhattan. As my mother said, when I moved to Brooklyn when I was clerking, “Brooklyn to Brooklyn, in three generations.”
DL: Brooklyn is very, very hip right now.
PK: It wasn’t hip when we got there.
DL: And did you grow up in Manhattan or Brooklyn?
PK: When I was little, we lived in Manhattan. Then right before I started elementary school, right after my brother was born, our apartment wasn’t big enough anymore. So we moved to Stamford, Connecticut, and I grew up in Connecticut.
DL: What led you to go to law school? I see you stayed in the state; you went to Yale. What did you have in mind for your post-law-school career?
PK: I went to law school because during the summer between 10th and 11th grade, I read Richard Kluger’s book, Simple Justice, which is the story of the litigation that leads up to Brown v. Board of Education. And I decided I wanted to go to the NAACP Legal Defense Fund and be a school desegregation lawyer, and that’s what led me to go to law school.
DL: You obtained a master’s degree in history as well as a law degree. Did you also have teaching in mind as well?
PK: No, I thought getting the master’s degree was my last chance to do something I had loved doing as an undergrad. It didn’t occur to me until I was late in my law-school days that I might at some point want to be a law professor. That’s different than a lot of folks who go to law school now; they go to law school wanting to be law professors.
During Admitted Students’ Weekend, some students say to me, “I want to be a law professor—should I come here to law school?” I feel like saying to them, “You haven’t done a day of law school yet. You have no idea whether you’re good at law. You have no idea whether you’d enjoy doing legal teaching.”
It just amazes me that people come to law school now planning to be a law professor, in a way that I don’t think very many people did when I was going to law school. In my day, people discovered when they were in law school that they loved it, and they wanted to do more of what they loved doing; I don’t think people came to law school for the most part planning to be law professors.
DL: The track is so different now—and that’s a whole other conversation—but people are getting master’s and Ph.D. degrees, and people are doing fellowship after fellowship. It’s not like, oh, you practice for three, five, or seven years, and then you become a professor. It seems to be almost like this other track nowadays.
PK: When I went on the teaching market, I was distinctive in that I had not only my student law-journal note, but I actually had an article that Ricky Revesz and I had worked on that was coming out. And it was not normal for people to have that back then. Now people go onto the teaching market with six or seven publications—and no practice experience really to speak of, for a lot of them.
DL: You mentioned talking to admitted students. You went to YLS, but you’ve now been teaching for a long time at Stanford Law School. They’re very similar in a lot of ways. They’re intellectual. They’re intimate, especially compared to some of the other top law schools. What would you say if I’m an admitted student choosing between those two institutions? What would cause me to pick one versus the other—besides the superior weather of Palo Alto?
PK: Well, some of it is geography; it’s not just the weather. Some folks are very East-Coast-centered, and other folks are very West-Coast-centered. That makes a difference.
It’s a little hard to say what the differences are, because the last time I spent a long time at Yale Law School was in 2012 (I visited there a bunch of times over the years), but I think the faculty here at Stanford is less focused and concentrated on the students who want to be law professors than is the case at Yale. When I was at Yale, the idea was if you were smart, you went and became a law professor. It was almost like a kind of external manifestation of an inner state of grace; it was a sign that you were a smart person, if you wanted to be a law professor. And if you didn’t, well, you could be a donor later on. Here at Stanford, the faculty as a whole is less concentrated on producing law professors. We produce a fair number of them, but it’s not the be-all and end-all of the law school in some ways. Heather Gerken, who’s the dean at Yale, has changed that somewhat, but not entirely. So that’s one big difference.
One of the most distinctive things about Stanford, because we’re on the quarter system, is that our clinics are full-time clinics, taught by full-time faculty members at the law school. And that’s distinctive. I think Yale calls more things clinics than we do, and a lot of them are part-time or taught by folks who aren’t in the building all the time. So that’s a big difference between the schools.
They just have very different feels. I would encourage any student who gets into both of them to go and visit both of them, talk to the students, and see where you think you’re going to be most comfortably stretched. Either school could be the right school for somebody.
DL: I totally agree with you. Sometimes people think there’s some kind of platonic answer to, “Where should I go to law school?” And it depends on so many individual circumstances.
PK: There really isn’t one answer. I think when I was deciding between law schools as a student, I got waitlisted at Stanford and I got into Yale. I had gone to Yale as an undergrad, so I wasn’t going to go anywhere else if I got in there. I was from Connecticut and loved living in Connecticut, so that was an easy choice for me. But it’s a hard choice for a lot of folks.
And I do think that one of the worst things in the world is U.S. News and World Report, even though we’re generally a beneficiary of it. It used to be that the R-squared between where somebody went to law school and what a ranking was was minimal. I knew lots of people who decided, in the old days, that they were going to go to Columbia rather than Yale or Harvard, rather than Stanford or Penn, rather than Chicago, because they liked the city better or there was somebody who did something they really wanted to do there.
And then the R-squared, once U.S. News came out, of where people went and what the rankings were, became huge. And as you probably know, there were some scandals with law schools that would just waitlist people rather than admit them, to keep their yield up, because they thought the person would go to a higher-ranked law school. There were years and years where a huge part of the Stanford entering class had been waitlisted at Penn. And that’s bad for people, because there are people who should go to Penn rather than come here. There are people who should go to NYU rather than going to Harvard. And a lot of those people don’t do it because they’re so fixated on U.S. News rankings.
DL: I totally agree with you. But I suspect that a lot of people think that there are certain opportunities that are going to be open to them only if they go here or only if they go there.
Speaking of which, after graduating from YLS, you clerked for Justice Blackmun on the Supreme Court, and statistically it’s certainly true that certain schools seem to improve your odds of clerking for the Court. What was that experience like overall? People often describe it as a dream job. We’re recording this on the last day of the Supreme Court Term; some hugely consequential historic cases are coming down. As a law clerk, you get a front row seat to all of that, to all of that history being made. Did you love that experience?
PK: I loved the experience. I loved it in part because I worked for a wonderful justice who was just a lovely man, a real mensch. I had three great co-clerks. It was the first time, actually, that any justice had ever hired three women—and so that was distinctive for me, because I had been in classes in law school where there were fewer than three women. I was in one class in law school where I was the only woman. So that was neat.
It was a great Term. It was the last year of the Burger Court, and we had just a heap of incredibly interesting cases. It’s amazing how many cases I teach in law school that were decided that year—the summary-judgment trilogy, Thornburg v. Gingles, Bowers v. Hardwick. It was just a really great time to be there. And as a liberal, we won a lot of the cases. We didn’t win them all, but we won a lot of them.
It was incredibly intense. At that point, the Supreme Court still had this odd IT system that required eight hours of diagnostics every night. So the system was up from 8 a.m. to midnight—it stayed online longer if there was a death case—but otherwise it went down at midnight. In the Blackmun chambers, we showed up at 8 a.m. for breakfast with the Justice, and we left at midnight, five days a week. Then on the weekends, we were there from 9 to 9. And they were deciding 150 cases, not 60 cases, a year. So there was a lot more work to do, in that sense. But it was a great year. I’ve remained friends with my co-clerks, and I’ve remained friends with clerks from other chambers. It was a wonderful experience.
DL: And you’ve actually written about it. I would refer people to some of the articles that they can look up, on your CV and elsewhere, where you’ve talked about, say, having breakfast with the Justice.
PK: And we had a Passover Seder with the Justice as well, which was a lot of fun.
DL: Oh wow, who hosted that? Did he?
PK: Actually, the clerks hosted it. Originally he had said, “Oh, why don’t we have it at the Court?” But then he came back to us and said, “Well, I think the Chief Justice”—Chief Justice Burger—“might not like that.” But he lent us tables and chairs, which were dropped off at one of the clerk’s houses. And it was actually the day of the Gramm-Rudman argument, which was an argument about the budget. So we had to keep running back and forth from the Court to the house of Danny Richman, the clerk who hosted it, who was a Thurgood Marshall clerk. We had to keep running back and forth from the Court to Danny Richman’s house, to baste the turkey and make stuff, back and forth. And then we had a real full Seder, and we invited all of the Jewish clerks at the Court and the Justice’s messenger, who was Jewish, and the Justice and Mrs. Blackmun, and it was a lot of fun.
DL: Wow, that’s wonderful. So where did you go after your clerkship?
PK: I went to the NAACP Legal Defense Fund, where I was an assistant counsel, and I worked on voting-rights and employment-discrimination cases.
DL: And that was something that you had thought about for a long time—you mentioned you had read about its work in high school.
PK: Yes, and it was a great place to work. We were working on great cases, and at that point we were really pushing the envelope on some of the stuff that we were doing—which was great and inspiring, and my colleagues were wonderful.
And unlike a lot of Supreme Court practices now, where there’s a kind of “King Bee” usually, and that person gets to argue everything, the Legal Defense Fund was very different. The first argument I did at the Court was in a case that I had worked on the amended complaint for, while at the Legal Defense Fund—and they let me essentially keep working on the case and argue it at the Supreme Court, even though by the time the case got to the Supreme Court, I was teaching at UVA. So they didn’t have this policy of stripping away from younger lawyers the ability to argue their cases the whole way through the system.
DL: So how many years out from law school were you by the time you had your first argument before the Court? I know that, today at least, there’s this two-year bar on arguing before the Court after having clerked there.
PK: Six or seven years out—because I think I argued in ‘91.
DL: Now, you mentioned that by then you were teaching at UVA. You had a dream job working at the NAACP Legal Defense Fund. What led you to go to UVA?
PK: There were two things, really, that did it. One was I had also discovered when I was in law school that I loved law school, and I was better at law school than I had been at anything I had done before law school. And the second was I really hated dealing with opposing counsel. I tell my students now, “You should take negotiation. If there’s only one class you could take in law school, take negotiation.” Because it’s a skill; it’s not a habit of mind, but I felt like it was a habit of mind. And I found the discovery process and filing motions to compel and dealing with the other side’s intransigence just really unpleasant.
What I really loved was writing briefs. I loved writing briefs, and I could keep doing that for the Legal Defense Fund while at UVA, and I’ve done a bunch of that over the years for LDF and for other organizations. I could keep doing that and I could live in a small town, which I really wanted to do. I love New York, and now I could live in a city—I’ve spent a couple of years, off and on, living in cities since then, and I like it—but I didn’t like it at that point. I really wanted to be out in the country somewhere. And so UVA was the perfect mix. I kept working on cases, writing amicus briefs for LDF and for other organizations. I could teach, which I loved. I could live in a college town, which I really enjoyed. So it was the best blend of things.
DL: And I know, from your having actually delivered a lecture at UVA, that it really did seem to have a special place in your heart. UVA Law School—they really do have a wonderful environment there (as does Stanford), and Charlottesville is a very charming place.
PK: Yes, especially when I was there. UVA has a real gift for developing its junior faculty. It was a place where the senior faculty were constantly reading our work, constantly talking to us. Everyone was in the building, which makes a huge difference.
The second case I had go to the Supreme Court actually came out of a class where a student asked a question, and I ended up representing the student, and we took the case all the way to the Supreme Court. But I wasn’t admitted in the Western District of Virginia, and that’s where we had to file a case. And so I turned to my next-door neighbor, George Rutherglen, and said to George, “Would you be the lead counsel in this?” And he said, “Sure.” And we ended up representing a bunch of UVA students, challenging the way the Republican Party did its nomination process. And we ended up, by the student’s third year in law school, at the Supreme Court.
So UVA was a great place. I had amazing colleagues. The legendary Bill Stuntz was then there; Mike Klarman was there. Dan Ortiz, who’s still there, was there. So was John Harrison. It was a fantastic group of people to have as your colleagues.
DL: Was it difficult for you, then, to leave UVA and move to Stanford?
PK: Oh yes. When I went in to tell Bob Scott, who was then the dean, that I was leaving, I just burst into tears. I think the reason I left UVA was I was at a point in my career where I’d done a bunch of visits at other schools, and I thought that I could either leave then or I would be making a decision to stay there for the rest of my career. And I just felt like I wanted to make a change. And in retrospect, I would’ve been just as happy if I’d stayed at UVA. In my professional life, I would’ve been just as happy. I don’t know in my personal life, because I wouldn’t have met my partner, I don’t think, if I’d been at UVA. But it’s a marvelous place; everything about it is just absolutely superb.
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So I do want to give you a chance to say nice things about your current place. I assume you have no regrets about moving to Stanford Law, even if you would’ve been just as happy at UVA?
PK: I’m incredibly happy here. I’ve got great colleagues. I’ve got great students. The ability to do the clinic the way we do it, which is as a full-time clinic, wouldn’t be true anywhere else in the country, and that makes a huge difference to that part of my work. I’ve gotten to teach around the curriculum. I’ve taught four of the six first-year courses, which is a great opportunity
And as you said earlier, the weather is unbelievable. People downplay that, because especially for people who are Northeastern Ivy League types, there’s a certain Calvinism about that, which is that you have to suffer in order to be truly working hard. People out here sometimes think we don’t work hard because we are not visibly suffering. But it’s actually the opposite, in a way. I’m looking out my window right now, and it’s a gorgeous day. And if I were in the east and it were 75 degrees and sunny, I would find it hard to work because I’d think it’s usually going to be hot and humid, or if it’s in the winter, it’s going to be cold and rainy. I love Yale, but the eight years I spent there, my nose ran the entire time I was there. And here I look out and I think, “It’s beautiful, but you know what? It’s going to be beautiful tomorrow. So I should sit here and finish grading my exams, or I should sit here and edit this article, or I should sit here and work on the Restatement—because it’s going to be just as beautiful tomorrow.” And the ability to walk outside, to clear your head, makes a huge difference. People don’t understand just how huge a difference that is, but it’s huge.
DL: That’s so true. If you had me pick a color to associate with my time at YLS, I would say gray. It just felt like everything was always gray, the sky was always gray—not blue or sunny or what have you.
But I know you’ve spent some time outside of Northern California, because you have done some stints at the Justice Department. Tell us about that, the times you went there—why did you go there? What type of work were you doing? And how did it relate to or complement your scholarly work?
PK: At the beginning of the Obama administration, I had applied for a job in the Civil Rights Division as a deputy assistant attorney general (DAAG), and I didn’t get it. And I thought, “Well, that’s passed me by.” And a couple of years later, when they were looking for a new principal deputy solicitor general, in the summer of 2013, the civil-rights groups pushed me for that job. I got an interview with Eric Holder, and it was on June 11th, 2013, which just fortuitously happens to be the 50th anniversary of the day that Vivian Malone desegregated the University of Alabama—and Vivian Malone is the older sister of Sharon Malone, who is married to Eric Holder.
So I went in for the interview and I said, “This must be an especially special day for you because of the 50th anniversary.” And we talked about that a little bit, and then we talked about other things. And I came out of the interview, and a couple of weeks later, Don Verrilli, who was the solicitor general, called me up and said, “Look, you’re not going to get a job as the principal deputy”—which ultimately went to Ian Gershengorn, a phenomenal lawyer—“but Eric Holder really enjoyed talking to you, so we’re going to look for something else for you to do here at the Department of Justice.”
And a couple of weeks after that, Eric Holder called me and offered me the DAAG position in the Civil Rights Division and said, “We’d really like you to especially concentrate on our voting-rights litigation.” It was very important litigation, in part because the Supreme Court had recently struck down the pre-clearance regime under Section 5 [of the Voting Rights Act]. So the Justice Department was now bringing a bunch of lawsuits against things they could have blocked if Section 5 had been in effect, most notably the Texas voter ID law, which was a quite draconian voter ID law, and this omnibus bill in North Carolina that involved all sorts of cutbacks to opportunities to vote: a cutback on early voting, a cutback on same-day registration, a cutback on 16- and 17-year-olds pre-registering, and the like.
So I went to the Department of Justice and worked with the Voting Section on those cases, but I also ended up working on things like getting the Justice Department to change its position on whether Title VII covered transgender individuals. And then I also got to work on the implementation of [United States v.] Windsor—which I had worked on, representing Edie Windsor, before I went to DOJ, because the Court had just decided Windsor [which held Section 3 of the Defense of Marriage Act unconstitutional]. So I had an opportunity to work on how to implement Windsor across the federal government. So that was the stuff I got to work on the first time I was at DOJ, and I also obviously worked on tons of other stuff, and it was phenomenal. I loved doing it.
I did it for about 20 months, and then I came back to Stanford. It affected my teaching; I understood a lot of stuff quite differently having worked on it. It gave me some ideas on things I wanted to write about. And it just refreshed me in some ways. It’s different than working in the clinic. I love working in the clinic, but you’re working with students. You’re working only with very, very junior lawyers. I sometimes think of the clinic as being a sort of Groundhog Day of first-year associates, and so I’m sort of senior partner and paralegal at a large law firm. At DOJ, you’re working with subject-matter experts. The people in the Voting Section, collectively, had hundreds of years of experience with voting. The people in the Appellate Section had hundreds of years of experience with appellate litigation. And so it’s just a very different feel.
So I did that, and then I came back to Stanford. I was here, and in the fall of 2020, I was asked if I wanted to be one of the people on the Justice Department review team if Joe Biden won the election. These are sometimes referred to as the transition teams or the landing teams or the like. And I said, “I’d be delighted to do that.” They had me as one of the point people reviewing the Civil Rights Division. And I think it might’ve even been the Wednesday or Thursday before Inauguration Day 2021, I got a call from the liaison person on the transition team saying, “How would you like to go back to DOJ and be the principal deputy assistant attorney general in the Civil Rights Division?” That would mean essentially running the Division until we got a confirmed head, which took about five months. And I thought that this would be an amazing opportunity to go back to the DOJ and work with people I love, right at the beginning of an administration.
And the beginning of an administration is really different than coming in midway through the second term of an administration. You’re trying to come up with priorities, and I viewed my job really as helping the career people to do their best work. There were a huge number of career people who had gone through the first Trump administration, and they were raring to go. They had all sorts of ideas on stuff they wanted to do, and it was my job to facilitate that and make that possible for them. And that’s why it’s so tragic this time around that almost all of those people have left. The current administration first tried to transfer them all into Sanctuary Cities [the Sanctuary Cities Enforcement Working Group] or ask them to do things that they couldn’t in good conscience do, and so they’ve retired or taken buyouts or just left.
DL: It’s remarkable, just the loss of expertise and experience at the Justice Department over these past few months.
PK: Thousands of years of experience gone. And these are people, you’ve got to realize, who had been through the Nixon administration, the Reagan administration, both Bush administrations, and the first Trump administration, and they hadn’t had any problem. That’s what’s so stunning: this is not just the normal shift in priorities, and they have gone out of their way to make it so hellacious for people that they will leave. And that’s not something that either Democratic or Republican administrations have ever done before this.
DL: And we will get to a lot of, shall we say, current events. Finishing up on just the discussion of your career, you had the opportunity to work in the executive branch—what about judicial service? You’ve been floated over the years as a possible Supreme Court nominee. I don’t know if you ever looked into serving on the Ninth Circuit or were considered for that. What about judicial service?
PK: So I’ve never been in a position, and part of this was a lesson I learned right at the beginning of my LDF career, when Lani Guinier, who was my boss at LDF, was nominated for the position of AAG [assistant attorney general] in the Civil Rights Division and got shot down. I knew from that time forward that if I did the things I really wanted to do, my chances of confirmation were not going to be very high. People at LDF used to joke that they would get me nominated so that I would take all the bullets, and then they’d sneak everybody else through. So I never really thought that I would have a shot at a judicial position, and that didn’t bother me particularly. As you know, I gave the commencement speech many years ago at Stanford, and I said, “Would I want to be on the Supreme Court? You bet—but not enough to have trimmed my sails for an entire lifetime.”
And I think that’s right. Peter Baker did this story in The New York Times called something like, “Favorites of Left Don’t Make Obama’s Court List.” And in the story, Tommy Goldstein, who’s a dear friend of mine, said, “If they wanted to talk about somebody who was a flaming liberal, they’d be talking about Pam Karlan, but nobody’s talking about Pam Karlan.” And then I got this call from a friend of mine who said, “Yeah, but at least people are talking about how nobody’s talking about you. Nobody’s even talking about how nobody’s talking about me.” And I was flattered, but not fooled.
DL: That’s funny; I read that piece in preparing for this interview. So let’s say someone were to ask you, someone mid-career, “Hey, I’ve been pretty safe in the early years of my career, but now I’m at this juncture where I could do things that will possibly foreclose my judicial ambitions—should I just try to keep a lid on it, in the hope of making it?” It sounds like you would tell them to let their flag fly.
PK: Here’s the thing: your chances of getting to be on the Supreme Court, if that’s what you’re talking about, your chances are so low that the question is how much do you want to give up to go from a 0.001% chance to a 0.002% chance? Yes, you are doubling your chances, but your chances are not good. And there are some people who I think are capable of doing that, perhaps because they fit the zeitgeist enough that it’s not a huge sacrifice for them. So it’s not that I despise everybody who goes to the Supreme Court because they must obviously have all been super-careerists; I think lots of them weren’t super-careerists in that way.
Although it does worry me that six members of the Court now clerked at the Supreme Court—because when you are a law clerk, it gives you this feeling about the Court that maybe you don’t want everybody who’s on the Court to have, a feeling that this is the be-all and end-all of life and that getting a clerkship is a manifestation of an inner state of grace, so becoming a justice is equally a manifestation of an inner state of grace in which you are smarter than everybody else, wiser than everybody else, and everybody should kowtow to you in all sorts of ways. And I worry that people who are imprinted like ducklings on the Supreme Court when they’re 25 or 26 or 27 might not be the best kind of portfolio of justices at the back end. The Court that decided Brown v. Board of Education—none of them, I think, had clerked at the Supreme Court, or maybe one of them had. They’d all done things with their lives other than try to get back to the Supreme Court. So I worry about that a little bit.
DL: Speaking of the Court, let’s turn to the Court, because it just finished its Term as we are recording this. As we started recording, they were still handing down the final decisions of the day.
PK: Yes, the “R” numbers hadn’t come up on the Supreme Court website when I signed off to come talk to you.
DL: Exactly. So earlier this month, not today, but earlier this month, the Court handed down its decision in United States v. Skrmetti, reviewing Tennessee’s ban on the use of hormones and puberty blockers for transgender youth. Were you surprised by the Court’s ruling in Skrmetti?
PK: No. I was not surprised.
DL: So one of your most famous cases, which you litigated successfully five years ago or so, was Bostock v. Clayton County, in which the Court held that Title VII does apply to protect transgender individuals—and Bostock figures significantly in the Skrmetti opinions. Why were you surprised by Skrmetti given that you had won this victory in Bostock, which you could argue, in terms of just the logic of it, does carry over somewhat?
PK: Well, I want to be very precise: I didn’t actually litigate Bostock. There were three cases that were put together….
DL: Oh yes—you handled Zarda.
PK: I represented Don Zarda, who was a gay man, so I did not argue the transgender part of the case at all. Fortuitously enough, David Cole argued that part of the case, and David Cole was actually the first person I had dinner with as a freshman at Yale College, when I started college, because he was the roommate of somebody I debated against in high school. So David and I went to law school together, went to college together, and had classes together. We’ve been friends now for almost 50 years, which is scary—I think for 48 years we’ve been friends—and he argued that part of the case.
So here’s what surprised me about what the Supreme Court did in Skrmetti. Given where the Court wanted to come out, the more intellectually honest way to get there would’ve been to say, “Yes, of course this is because of sex; there is sex discrimination going on here. But even applying intermediate scrutiny, we think that Tennessee’s law should survive intermediate scrutiny.” That would’ve been an intellectually honest way to get to where the Court got.
Instead, they did this weird sort of, “Well, the word ‘sex’ isn’t in the Fourteenth Amendment, but it’s in Title VII.” But that makes no sense at all, because for none of the sex-discrimination cases that the Court has decided under the Fourteenth Amendment did the word “sex” appear in the Fourteenth Amendment. It’s not like the word “sex” was in there and then all of a sudden it took a powder and left. So I thought that was a really disingenuous way of getting to where the Court wanted to go. But I was not surprised after the oral argument that the Court was going to get to where it got on the bottom line.
DL: I’m curious, though, rewinding to Bostock and Zarda, were you surprised by how the Court came out in those cases? Because it was still a deeply conservative Court back then.
PK: No, I was not surprised. I was not surprised, both because I thought we had so much the better of the argument and because at the oral argument, it seemed pretty clear that we had at least six justices, and those were the six justices we had at the end of the day. The thing that was interesting to me about Bostock was I thought also that we were likely to win for the following weird legal-realist reason, which is that this was a case that would allow the justices who claimed to be textualists to show that they were principled textualists, by doing something that they might not have voted for if they were in Congress or the like.
And also, while the impact was really large in one sense, the impact was not really large in another sense: most American workers are protected by Title VII, but most American employers do not discriminate, and didn’t discriminate even before this, on the basis of sexual orientation or on the basis of gender identity. For example, in Zarda’s case, the employer denied that they had fired Mr. Zarda because he was gay; they said, “We fired him for other reasons.”
Very few employers had a formal policy that said, “We discriminate on the basis of sexual orientation.” And although most American workers are protected by Title VII, most American employers are not covered by Title VII—and that’s because small employers, employers with fewer than 15 full-time employees, are not covered at all. And religious employers have all sorts of exemptions and the like, so for the people who had the biggest objection to hiring or promoting or retaining gay or transgender employees, this case wasn’t going to change what happened to them at all. So the impact was really important for workers, but not deeply intrusive on employers generally. So I thought those two things, taken together, meant that we had a pretty good argument.
I actually thought our textual argument was not our best argument, but it was the one that they were most likely to buy. So it was really interesting: we made a bunch of different arguments in the brief, and then as soon as I got up to argue, the first question out of the box was Justice Ginsburg saying, “Well, in 1964, homosexuality was illegal in most of the country—how could this be?” And that’s when I realized, “Okay, she’s just telling me to talk about the text, don’t talk about anything else.”
So I just talked about the text the whole time. But as you may remember from the argument, there was this weird moment, which came after I answered her question and one other one, there was this kind of silence from the justices. And I just said, “Well, if you don’t have any more questions, I’ll reserve the remainder of my time.” And it went well; it went well as an argument.
DL: On the flip side, speaking of things that are not going so well, let’s turn to current events. Zooming up to a higher level of generality than Skrmetti, you are a leading scholar of constitutional law, so here’s the question. I know you’ve already been interviewed about it by media outlets, but let me ask you again, in light of just the latest, latest, latest news: are we in a constitutional crisis in the United States?
PK: I think we’re in a period of great constitutional danger. I don’t know what a “constitutional crisis” is. Some people think the constitutional crisis is that we have an executive branch that doesn’t believe in the Constitution, right? So you have Donald Trump asked, in an interview, “Do you have to comply with the Constitution?” He says, “I don’t know.” Or he says, “I have an Article II that gives me the power to do whatever I want”—which is not what Article II says. If you want to be a textualist, it does not say the president can do whatever he wants. So you have an executive branch that really does not have a commitment to the Constitution as it has been understood up until now—that is, limited government, separation of powers, respect for individual rights. With this administration, none of that’s there. And I don’t know whether Emil Bove did say, “F**k the courts,” or not, but they’re certainly acting as if that’s their attitude.
So yes, in that sense, we’re in a period of constitutional danger. And then on top of that, I think we have a Supreme Court that is acting almost as if this is a normal administration with normal stuff, a Court that doesn’t seem to recognize what district judges appointed by every president since George H.W. Bush or maybe even Reagan have recognized, which is, “This is not normal.” What the administration is trying to do is not normal, and it has to be stopped. So that worries me, that the Supreme Court is acting as if it needs to keep its powder dry—and for what, I’m not clear.
If they think that by giving in and giving in, and prevaricating and putting things off... today, I thought the example of this was in the birthright citizenship/universal injunction case. One of the groups of plaintiffs that’s up there is a bunch of states, around 23 states, and the Supreme Court in Justice Barrett’s opinion says, “Well, maybe the states have standing, maybe they don’t. And maybe if they have standing, you can enjoin this all in those states. We leave this all for remind.”
They’ve sat on this for months. It’s ridiculous that the Supreme Court doesn’t “man up,” essentially, and decide these things. It really worries me quite a bit that the Supreme Court just seems completely blind to the fact that in 2024, they gave Donald Trump complete criminal immunity from any prosecution, so who’s going to hold him accountable? Not criminally accountable, not accountable in damages—and now the Supreme Court seems not particularly interested in holding him accountable either.
DL: Let me play devil’s advocate. Here’s my theory on why the Court does seem to be holding its fire: they’re afraid of a worse outcome, which is, essentially, “The emperor has no clothes.”
Say they draw this line in the sand for Trump, and then Trump just crosses it. And as we all know from that famous quote from The Federalist Papers, the Court has neither force nor will, but only judgment. That’s worse, isn’t it? If suddenly it’s exposed that the Court doesn’t have any army, any way to stop Trump? And then the courts have no power.
PK: I actually think it’s the opposite, which is, I think if the Court said to Donald Trump, “You must do X,” and then he defies it, you would have people in the streets. You would have real deep resistance—not just the “No Kings,” one-day march, but deep resistance. And there are scholars who’ve done comparative law who say, “When 3 percent of the people in a country go to the streets, you get real change.” And I think the Supreme Court is mistaking that.
I taught a reading group for our first-years here. We have reading groups where you meet four times during the fall for dinner, and you read stuff that makes you think. And my reading group was called “Exit, Voice, and Loyalty,” and it started with the Albert Hirschman book with that title.
DL: Great book.
PK: It’s a great book. And I gave them some excerpt from that, and I gave them an essay by Hannah Arendt called “Personal Responsibility Under Dictatorship,” which she wrote in 1964. And one of the things she says there is she talks about people who stayed in the German regime, on the theory that they would prevent at least worse things from happening. And I’m going to paraphrase slightly, but what she says is, “People who think that what they’re doing is getting the lesser evil quickly forget that what they’re choosing is evil.” And if the Supreme Court decides, “We’re not going to tell Donald Trump ‘no,’ because if we tell him no and he goes ahead, we will be exposed,” what they have basically done is said to Donald Trump, “Do whatever you want; we’re not going to stop you.” And that will lose the Supreme Court more credibility over time than Donald Trump defying them once and facing some serious backlash for doing it.
DL: So let me ask you one final question before we go to my little speed round. That 3 percent statistic is fascinating, by the way, but it resonates for me. My family’s originally from the Philippines, and you probably had the 3 percent out there in the streets to oust Marcos in 1986.
But let me ask you this. We now live in a nation where Donald Trump won not just the Electoral College, but the popular vote. We do see a lot of ugly things out there, whether in social media or incidents of violence or what have you. You still have enough faith in the American people that if the Supreme Court drew that line, and Donald Trump crossed it, and maybe this happened a couple of times, even—you still have faith that there will be that 3 percent or what have you in the streets?
PK: I have hope, which is not quite the same thing as faith, obviously, but I have hope that some Republicans in Congress would grow a spine at that point, and people would say, “This is not right.” Have they always done that? No. We’ve had bad things happen in the past, and people have not done anything about it. But I think that the alternative of just saying, “Well, since we might not be able to stop him, we shouldn’t do anything about it,” while he guts the federal government, sends masked people onto the streets, tries to take the military into domestic law enforcement—I think we have to do something.
And this is what’s so enraging in some ways: the district court judges in this country are doing their job. They are enjoining stuff. They’re not enjoining everything, because not everything can be enjoined, and not everything is illegal; there’s a lot of bad stuff Donald Trump is doing that he’s totally entitled to do. But the district courts are doing their job, and they’re doing their job while people are sending pizza boxes to their houses and sending them threats, and the president is tweeting about them or whatever you call the posts on Truth Social. They’re doing their job—and the Supreme Court needs to do its job too. It needs to stand up for district judges. If it’s not willing to stand up for the rest of us, you’d think they’d at least stand up for their entire judicial branch.
DL: Turning to my speed round, my first question is, what do you like the least about the law? And this can either be the practice of law or law as a more abstract system of ordering human affairs.
PK: What I liked least about it was having to deal with opposing counsel in discovery. That drove me to appellate litigation.
DL: Exactly—where your request for an extension is almost always agreed to by the other side.
PK: Yes, and where the record is the record.
DL: Yes, exactly. My second question, is what would you be if you were not a lawyer and/or law professor?
PK: Oh, they asked me this question for a thing here at Stanford, and it was like, if I couldn’t be a lawyer, I’d... And I just said, “I’d sit in my room and cry.”
DL: Okay!
PK: I don’t know—this is what my talent is!
DL: You don’t want to write a novel or something?
PK: No. What I would really like to do is I would like to bike the Freedom Trail, which is a trail that starts in Montgomery, Alabama, and goes to the Canadian border, following the Underground Railroad. I’ve always wanted to bike that. But I guess that’s not a career. I bike slowly enough that it could be a career, at this point—but earlier on, probably not.
DL: My third question is, how much sleep do you get each night?
PK: I now get around six hours of sleep each night, but it’s complicated by the following, which is when I worked at the Department of Justice the second time, it was during Covid, so I actually worked remotely from California. And what that required me to do was essentially to wake up every morning at 4 a.m., 7 a.m. on the East Coast, so I could have breakfast, read the paper, and be ready to go by 5:30 a.m.
I’ve been unable to get off of that, so I still wake up before dawn every morning. And I spent three months in Florence, and I thought the jet lag would bring me out of this—not in the slightest. Within two weeks, I was waking up at 4:30 a.m. Central European Time. So that’s why I get about six hours, because I can’t really go to bed before 9 or 10 p.m.
DL: Well, I was struck by your being able to do this podcast fairly early West Coast time.
PK: Oh no, this is the third thing I’ve done this morning! I had a 6:30 a.m. conference call.
DL: Oh my gosh, wow. It reminds me of that saying about how you get more done in the Army before X hour than other people get done in a day.
My last question, is any final words of wisdom, such as career advice or life advice, for my listeners?
PK: Yes: do what you love, with people you love doing it with.
DL: Well said. I’ve loved doing this podcast—Professor Karlan, thanks again for joining me.
PK: You should start calling me Pam. We’ve had this same discussion….
DL: We’re on the air! Okay, well, thanks again, Pam—I’m so grateful to you for joining me.
PK: Thanks for having me.
DL: Thanks so much to Professor Karlan for joining me. Whether or not you agree with her views, you can’t deny that she’s both insightful and honest—qualities that have made her a leading legal academic and lawyer, but also a great podcast guest.
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The next episode should appear on or about Wednesday, July 23. Until then, may your thinking be original and your jurisdiction free of defects.
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