Hospitals may track patients online and sell their data without violating state wiretap law, high court rules

Mike MacKenzie (via Flickr) CC BY 2.0

State wiretap law does not prevent hospitals from tracking patients on the web and selling their data, the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court ruled last week.

The plaintiff is a patient at two hospitals in the Beth Israel Lahey Health network. As the court explained the facts, the plaintiff "reviewed information available to the public on the hospitals' websites regarding doctors (including their credentials and backgrounds) and medical symptoms, conditions, and procedures." Without her consent, the hospitals shared the plaintiff's browsing data with third parties to generate revenue from targeted advertising.

The plaintiff sued under state wiretap law and got some traction in the lower courts, where the theory has bubbled up in other cases, too. The high court ended the trend, though, ruling that the state wiretap law, which threatens criminal penalties such as imprisonment, while reaching interpersonal communications such as telephone calls and email and text exchanges, was not intended to reach persons' interactions with websites.

The 47-page majority opinion by Justice Scott L. Kafker, drew a vigorous and almost as lengthy dissent from Justice Dalila Argaez Wendlandt, who accused the hospitals of lying to patients in their pledges of confidentiality and argued that the alleged misconduct falls squarely within legislative intent in prohibiting the interception of electronic communication.

I won't belabor the back and forth, as ample commentary already has been published about the case (e.g., JD Supra, Commonwealth Beacon, Bloomberg, National Law Review, Law360 (subscription), Massachusetts Lawyers Weekly (subscription)), and there is plenty more to come. Rather, I will comment only that the decision reflects the sorry state of privacy law in the United States.

The majority and dissent both make defensible arguments. I come down with the dissent on the technical merits of what the wiretap law was designed to prevent, i.e. "the spirit of the law," regardless of whether the legislature could have foreseen web surveillance. At the same time, the majority is right that the legislature likely would not have wanted to imprison every actor engaging in the kind of web surveillance that has become pervasive in our online society.

The missing link between the two positions is the meaningful data protection law that the United States still doesn't have, and which Americans want and expect, while almost three decades have passed since the European Union Data Protection Directive. The later General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) has been in force for six years.

Wiretap law was once the stuff of political intrigue, à la Watergate. The Massachusetts statute characteristically dates to the 1960s. Just as the advent of the internet made media law again hotly relevant to society, so wiretap law found new life in the electronic era. Courts had little difficulty transposing the law of wired telephone surveillance to wireless cell phones and electronic communication media such as email and texts. Even the U.S. Supreme Court got in on the action.

That's why I think Wendlandt has the better argument on the technical merits, by the way. The majority's distinction of interaction with a person or a website, when there are persons receiving surveillance data from the website, seems meaninglessly formalistic.

With electronic communication burgeoning in the internet era and electronic interception easier to accomplish without the need for specialized hardware, wiretap laws have been repurposed to do more work than they were designed for, becoming a key tool in the personal privacy arsenal.

The problem in tort law, to oversimplify modestly, always has been what Professor Daniel Solove termed "the secrecy paradigm." The common law of privacy torts, which also emerged largely in the 1960s, was not designed to handle the nuances of an online world. Rather, tort law, like the Fourth Amendment right against search and seizure, focused on secrets kept. A person might resort to the law to protect an intimate secret shared with a spouse. But the person who discloses financial information to a bank has forfeit legal privacy. 

Intimate space is not the theory of privacy that animates data protection in Europe and most of the rest of the world. In the theory abroad, the human right of privacy flows forward with personal data as they are handed off from person to person and corporation to corporation. In the United States, the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA) provides a modicum of privacy protection in this vein, but the circumstances in which it pertains are extremely narrow—web activity is not protected health information, and a web host is not a healthcare provider—and it authorizes no private right of action for violation.

In the absence of a legal model of downstream privacy preservation in the United States—notwithstanding a perplexing emerging plethora of competing state laws, if usually limited to commercial contexts; Massachusetts has been working on joining the pack, but has not yet—wiretap law has been unexpectedly instrumental to protect personal privacy in a narrow class of cases, because wiretap law focuses on the misconduct of clandestine surveillance rather than on the purportedly private nature of the intercepted content.

To be fair to the Massachusetts majority, though, such use of anachronistic wiretap law takes us down a road of ever more speculative application as the electronic avatar increasingly becomes an embodiment of personal identity. Electronic tools such as Google Analytics watch our every word. And we don't necessarily want to stop that wholesale. The other day, I watched a dated TV movie that Amazon thought I would like, and it was right. Time travel, Ireland, and Jane Seymour? Drop everything.

Notwithstanding which side in the instant case has the better argument in statutory interpretation, the legal response to the problem presented, that is, surveillance of web usage for the relatively innocuous if mercantile purpose of advertising, would arise better from business regulation than from common law or statutory torts.

Alas, if I had the magic potion that would make our broken Congress favor consumer protection over corporate profits, I would be running for President.

The case is Vita v. New England Baptist Hospital, No. SJC-13542 (Mass. Oct. 24, 2024).

In 'Baywatch' case, court ponders discovery rule for models' tort claims over ads posted on Facebook

Models suing an adult entertainment club occasioned the high court of Massachusetts to ponder the problem of social media and the statute of limitations on media torts in a decision Wednesday.

When I heard that the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court decided a case about Baywatch, I knew I would want to blog about it.

Alas, I was misled. "Bay Watch" in the instant matter has nothing to do with the The Hoff or 1990s TV.

Plaintiffs allege this ad depicts model Paola Cañas.
From Compl. ex. D.

Still, it's an interesting case. Bay Watch, Inc., is the owner of an adult entertainment club in Stoughton, Massachusetts, Club Alex's. In a lawsuit filed in federal district court in June 2021, six globally recognized models alleged that Club Alex's posted their images, some of them in scant swimwear, to Facebook to promote the club, even though none of the models had any association with the club. The models alleged trademark infringement, misappropriation ("right of publicity"), defamation, and conversion.

The issue in the trial court was the statute of limitations for the state tort claims. Sitting on the generous end of the spectrum, Massachusetts allows three years for media tort claims. But the ads the plaintiffs complained about appeared from 2013 to 2015. The district court accordingly granted summary judgment on the tort claims to the defendant in 2023. But on a plaintiff motion to reconsider at the end of the year, the court agreed to certify the limitations question to the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court (SJC).

Alas, not that one (IMDb).

The plaintiffs in the trial court had tried to avail of "the discovery rule," a common law rule that tolls the statute of limitations when it would work an unfairness on a plaintiff who is reasonably not cognizant that she suffered an injury for which there might be a legally responsible actor. 

The discovery rule gets a lot of play in toxic tort cases, in which illness alleged to have resulted from exposure to toxic substances might take years to manifest, and the risk of exposure might not even have been known to the victim at the time. Buttressing his decision with gender-equity-oriented social science, the late Judge Jack Weinstein famously used the discovery rule in the 1990s to give reprieve to plaintiffs suing the makers of DES, a once widely prescribed synthetic estrogen replacement that turned out to be dangerously carcinogenic.

The discovery rule is appealing as a matter of fairness, but applying it can introduce a thorny question of fact. And there are many more thorns when the rule is invoked in a case without the clear delimiters of physical injury.

It's often said, as a default matter, that the limitations period for media torts, such as defamation, runs from the time of publication. Usually that rule works well enough. But in some cases, plaintiffs are able to invoke the discovery rule. If cases are any indication, then defamation occurs in the disruption of business relationships more often than in the pop culture paradigm of media subject versus publisher. A businessperson, for example, might think she lost a contract on the merits of a bid and only later discover that she lost the contract upon the whisper of a false and harmful rumor into the right ear.

Proliferation of media in the internet age has made courts slightly more willing to afford plaintiffs an argument for the discovery rule, because mass media publication in a sea of online content might not rise to an injured's attention as quickly as a story in the town paper in ye olden days. But courts' patience is not without limit. In the online environment, courts have adapted another rule familiar to the conventional interplay of mass media and the discovery rule. As the SJC opined, in part quoting the Massachusetts Appeals Court:

"[W]here an alleged defamatory publication is broadly circulated to the public, and did not involve concealment or confidential communications," the discovery rule will not be applied, and the cause of action will accrue upon publication, as such widespread publication should have been discovered by the plaintiff.

In other words, the limitations period runs upon publication, unless plaintiff can invoke the discovery rule because a reasonable person would not have recognized the harm and arguably causal actor, unless the thing was out there for everyone so the plaintiff should have recognized the harm and arguably causal actor—in which case we come back around to publication again.

If that sounds circular .... Right. The problem with this approach is that if a reasonable person would not have recognized harm, cause, and actor, then, by definition, the plaintiff cannot be expected to have recognized harm, cause, and actor. In tort analysis, the word "should" means "a reasonable person would."

What this approach really allows is for the court to deny the plaintiff the latitude of the discovery rule as a matter of law, and to dismiss, without having to hassle (or Hassel) with the plaintiff's reasonable cognizance as a question of fact suitable for trial. In short, what the court giveth, the court may taketh away.

And that's what happened in the instant case. The federal district court first indicated that it was inclined to dismiss because the ads appeared too long ago. When the plaintiffs tried to invoke the discovery rule, the court was skeptical. These are world famous models with agents whose job it is to scan for unlicensed uses of clients' likenesses, and with lawyers who have sued over misappropriations before. All the same, the court concluded, credibility notwithstanding, these images were out there in the world long enough that the plaintiffs should have found out about them. So no discovery rule.

What seems to have given the court pause on reconsideration is that the images here were posted on social media. A paralegal in the employ of the plaintiffs

attested that there is no software that would allow her to efficiently search for the images in question and that Internet search engines do not search social media posts. As a result, the only available method is this "particularized research of particular establishments." It is this process, presumably, that led the plaintiffs to the defendant's Facebook posts.

But that took time.

The witness had a point. Google seems slow to index social media when it does at all. Many writers have trumpeted "the death of the search engine," as users prefer to seek answers in familiar social media not as polluted as Google search results with commercialization and distortions resulting from digital marketing under the guise of "optimization."

As well, the tech giants seem to have backed off image searching. When reverse image search first came out, I had fun seeing what famous people Google thought I looked like. Now, no matter what image I start with, Google either finds me, or finds nothing, saying, "Results for people are limited. Try searching a larger [image] area." The search tools can't have gotten dumber; that must be a choice. The SJC observed in evidence in the case that Facebook terminated its image search tool in 2021.

You see it, right?

There are now reverse image search apps, by the way, especially for celebrity matches. I'm apparently a dead ringer for UK actress Natalie Dormer (image via Flickr by Gage Skidmore CC BY-SA 2.0, cropped) or the great James Earl Jones (image via Flickr by Phil Davis CC BY-NC-SA 2.0, edited). Eat your heart out, Hollywood. The Celebs app sees me.

The federal district court thus asked the SJC to clarify how the statute of limitations works in a social media world.

In a characteristically methodical opinion for a unanimous court, Justice Scott Kafker stepped through the analysis in 25 pages. The opinion is elaborative, but it adds nothing new. The approach remains: publication, unless discovery rule, unless broad circulation. At greater length in conclusion, here is the court's explanation of the discovery rule in the context of social media:

Claims ... that arise from material posted to social media platforms accrue when a plaintiff knows, or reasonably should know, that he or she has been harmed by the defendant's publication of that material. Given how vast the social media universe is on the Internet, and how access to, and the ability to search for, social media posts may vary from platform to platform and even from post to post, that determination requires consideration of the totality of the circumstances regarding the social media posting, including the extent of its distribution, and the accessibility and searchability of the posting. The application of the discovery rule is therefore a highly fact-specific inquiry, and the determination of whether plaintiffs knew or should have known that they were harmed by a defendant's post on social media must often be left to the finder of fact. If, however, the material posted to social media is widely distributed, and readily accessible and searchable, a judge may determine as a matter of law that the discovery rule cannot be applied.

The record was insufficient, the SJC opined, to determine how the approach should work in the instant case. The plaintiffs had equivocated, the SJC observed, when asked when they first knew about the postings. If they knew before 2018, the court reasoned, then case over. Someone should ask them that.

It is possible for the conventional "whisper" scenario to play out on social media. The SJC cited a California case, Jones v. Reekes (Cal. Ct. App. 2022), in which plaintiff had been blocked from viewing the defendant's postings. Still, the California court concluded that the postings "were otherwise available to the public[,] and the block was easily circumventable;" moreover, the plaintiff was on alert generally to the defendant's derisive commentary. So the plaintiff was precluded from availing of the discovery rule, and the date of publication controlled.

Now I can't unsee it.

Jones was thus not exceptional as a mass media case, and I don't think Bay Watch is either. I suspect the SJC was being deferential to the federal trial court, giving it a chance to make the final call. It seems to me quite clear already that the district court did what the SJC commanded when it first ruled for the defense in 2023. The SJC having confirmed the rule, there seems little more for the district court to do but reenter that judgment.

The result might seem unfair to the assiduously searching plaintiffs, or, more precisely, their agents and lawyers. But the statute of limitations furthers meritorious competing interests, including finality in freedom from legal jeopardy on the part of all publishers.

The case in the SJC is Davalos v. Bay Watch, Inc., No. SJC-13534 (Mass. Sept. 4, 2024) (Kafker, J.) (FindLaw). The case in the federal court is Davalos v. Baywatch, Inc., No. 1:21-cv-11075 (D. Mass. Dec. 15, 2023) (Gorton, Dist. J.) (Court Listener).

UPDATE, Sept. 12: I was saddened to hear of James Earl Jones's passing shortly after I published this post (N.Y. Times, Sept. 9, 2024). All joking of resemblance aside, I was a fan.

High court construes tenure contract to constrain faculty salary cuts at Tufts medical school

TUSM Arnold Wing, 2012, Boston
John Phelan via Wikimedia Commons CC BY 3.0

Academic freedom won a rare court victory last week when the Massachusetts high court allowed claims that Tufts University improperly reduced the salaries of tenured medical faculty.

(As an aside, I wrote just yesterday about academic freedom in the case of FAMU's efforts to fire the law school's first and only tenured Latina professor for speaking on a matter of public concern, namely, the school dean's contentious resignation. Please consider signing the letter in support of Prof. Maritza Reyes.)

In the scrappy remains of what academia has become, the Tufts School of Medicine (TUSM) in the late 2010s told eight faculty that they would have to bring in external research support to cover half their salaries and their lab space, or they would see their salaries and space cut. The eight plaintiffs didn't meet the new standards, and TUSM imposed the cuts.

As things usually go in these cases, the trial court awarded summary judgment to the defense. Much responsibility for the sorry state of academic tenure in the United States can be laid at the feet of its once defenders, such as the American Association of University Professors (AAUP), which became so enamored with procedural arcana in the early 20th century that it forgot the substantive rights it was supposed to be fighting for. I wrote in 2011 about this problem and the urgent need to address it then. The law too often says that as long as a university dots its is and crosses its ts, it can fire for any reason.

The typical bulwark in the tenure contract is simply that firing must be "for cause," a wishy-washy term that reduces the contract practically to year-to-year employment. A university can disavow termination as a violation of civil rights, then turn right around and point to bad breath and a disagreeable disposition as sufficient "cause." Judges usually are eager to defer to universities, reasoning that workers could strike better bargains if they wanted to; they have the AAUP working for them, after all.

Just such ambiguity contributed to the plaintiffs' grief in the instant case. The Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court (SJC) opined that the term "economic security" in the Tufts tenure contract "is ambiguous." Upon the ambiguity, the term could be not be said to include a guarantee of lab space, and the lower court so concluded correctly.

A state high court typically would send plaintiffs packing wholesale upon deference to university interpretation of the contract. However, the SJC reversed and remanded, concluding that "more evidence is required regarding the customs and practices and reasonable expectations related to salary and full-time status for tenured professors at TUSM, and even other universities and medical schools," to determine whether the compensation reduction violated the contract.

Massachusetts is a labor-friendly state, for better and for worse. The courts are permissive, for example, in "wrongful termination" tort suits that would be shut down in a flash in other states. Here, the SJC was willing to look for evidence that other states' courts would eschew breezily. While I'm usually hesitant to see a court broadly construe a meticulous private contract, I'll here let myself be bettered by anxiety over academic freedom facing evisceration by the looming dismantling of faculty job security.

The plaintiffs in the Tufts case had been awarded tenure at different times, from 1970 to 2009. The SJC looked to the TUSM faculty handbook, which usually is construed as contractual in higher ed employment law. The handbook includes an academic, freedom, tenure, and retirement policy that incorporated language verbatim from the 1940 AAUP Statement on Principles of Academic Freedom and Tenure.

The 1940 statement speaks eloquently to the importance of "freedom of teaching and research and of extramural activities," as well as "a sufficient degree of economic security." All good. But the statement characteristically left "the precise terms and conditions" to ad hoc negotiation, as long as termination is permitted "only for adequate cause" and the result of some kind of review process. That's long left the tenured professor in an AAUP-style contract to wonder whether anything would stop the university from reducing salary to a penny and relocating the professor's office to the boiler room.

When Tufts presented a faculty hearing board with a multi-million operating deficit in the late 2010s, the board was more than willing to throw some faculty under the bus to save the rest. The union at my school did the same thing during the pandemic: eagerly approving faculty salary cuts, and even asking that they be higher, rather than calculating how many quarter-million-dollar-a-year assistant-associate-vice-provost-chancellors we might do without instead. 

Thus, another problem with tenure as we have it is that the AAUP, enraptured as it was and is with collectivism, never thought to consider the need to protect faculty from each other. Unlike the First Amendment, AAUP academic freedom allows the collective to run roughshod over dissenting voices.

With due process duly delivered, the Tufts plaintiffs saw salary reductions from 10 to 50%.

Taking stock of the matter, the SJC concluded, again, exceptionally, that "economic security is an important substantive provision of the tenure contract and not a prefatory or hortatory term." The court relied on the 1940 statement and strained in structuralist contract construction to distinguish a 2022 New York decision to the contrary. 

The record at Tufts probably does not support plaintiffs in resisting any salary reduction, but, the SJC concluded, at least created a question of fact as to how much is too much.

The case is Wortis v. Trustees of Tufts College (Mass. Mar. 14, 2024). Chief Justice Scott L. Kafker wrote the unanimous opinion.

State high court simplifies anti-SLAPP, draws picture

Notwithstanding the merits of anti-SLAPP statutes—I've opined plenty, including a catalog of problems—the Supreme Judicial Court of Massachusetts (SJC) in recent years made a mess of the state anti-SLAPP law by creating an arcane procedure that befuddled and frustrated the lower courts.

Yesterday the SJC admitted the arcanity and clarified the procedure. I'll note that one thing I like about the Mass. law is that it has a focused trigger in petitioning activity; that's not changing. It'll take me some time to work through the 50 pages of the opinion. But to my delight, there's a picture! The SJC kindly created a flow chart:

The case is Bristol Asphalt Co. v. Rochester Bituminous Products, Inc. (Mass. Feb. 29, 2024). The court then helpfully applied the new framework in another case the same day, Columbia Plaza Associates v. Northeastern University (Mass. Feb. 29, 2023). (Temporary posting of new opinions.)

The court's unofficial top technocrat, Chief Justice Scott L. Kafker authored both opinions. The court affirmed in both cases, denying the anti-SLAPP motion to strike in Bristol Asphalt and granting it in Columbia Plaza, so the lower courts waded their way to correct conclusions despite the mire.

Mass. high court nominee brings tort law experience

Justice Wolohojian
Mass.gov

Massachusetts Governor Maura Healey Wednesday announced the nomination of Massachusetts Appeals Court Justice Gabrielle R. Wolohojian to the Supreme Judicial Court. 

UPDATE, Feb. 29: The justice was confirmed

Justice Wolohojian practiced with Big Law on "product liability cases, consumer class actions, false advertising claims, and other business and consumer transactions," according to her official bio. Governor Deval Patrick appointed her to the Appeals Court in 2008. She has a Ph.D. from Oxford and a J.D. from Columbia.

For Law360 (subscription), Julie Manganis reported as well:

Outside her legal work, Justice Wolohojian is ... a violinist who has performed with the Boston Civic Symphony for 35 years, and has served as president of the organization's board. She also serves as an overseer of a radio program called "From the Top," which features children performing classical music.

Justice Wolohojian has authored several Appeals Court opinions that I've featured here on The Savory Tort, all sound.

• Motel not liable for guest's suicide, court rules, despite family warning of risk, asking for room number (Sept. 2, 2022)
• Flawed instruction on 'reasonable alternative design' requires vacatur of tobacco defense judgment (July 20, 2022)
• Gruesome bone-in-burger case: verdict remanded for reconsideration of 'reptile,' 'golden rule' arguments (Nov. 7, 2019)
• Best friend of teen struck, killed by train may claim negligence without physical injury, appeals court rules (Sept. 16, 2019)

There's been a fuss in the media over Justice Wolohojian once having been in a long-term relationship with the Governor. The relationship ended before the Governor was elected, and she is now with another partner. Governor Healey said nothing about the issue in the nomination announcement. Law360 and other media have reported that the bar and executive officials are "shrug[ging] off" the personal relationship as immaterial. I concur; Justice Wolohojian's bona fides are unimpeachable.

UPDATE, Feb. 29: 

Yesterday the justice was confirmed 6-1 by the Governor's Council. For Law360, Julie Manganis reported of the dissenting vote:

The lone member who voted against Justice Wolohojian, District 8 Councilor Tara Jacobs, said she still has "some concerns around the recusal situation," but said she was also troubled by the selection process, calling it "insular."

From an inclusion standpoint, it just felt very exclusionary in that you couldn't have a more insider nominee," said Jacobs, "and so I have concerns about that in terms of how it might dissuade people from applying who are not inside a network like that."

Jacobs also said she had another concern after meeting with Justice Wolohojian.

"My perception is she has breathed rarefied air from the time she was young, [in] her education and through her career, and my perception from that is she intellectualizes the marginalized community's struggle in a way that feels very much like a bubble of privilege and detached from the struggle itself, so I do have a concern whether justice is best represented through that lens," Jacobs said.

Mass. High Court Nominee Who Dated Gov. Confirmed 6-1 (Feb. 28, 2024) (subscription).

Court quashes $19m side deal in casino creation

Encore Boston Harbor, shiny and new in 2018.
Photo by Pi.1415926535 via Wikimedia Commons CC BY-SA 3.0

A $19m side deal in a major casino real estate transaction is invalid and unenforceable as a matter of public policy, the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court ruled this morning.

The ruling demonstrates the rarely seen hand but overriding importance of public policy in the law of obligations. The state high court was answering a certified question from the First Circuit.

First, some context.

For the record, nobody does corruption in America like northeasterners. It's been eye opening for me, living in this part of this country for the first time in my life, since moving here in 2011: the weird way roads and bridges remain perpetually under construction for decades—the orange barrel is said to be Rhode Island's state flower; the revolving doors that shuffle politicians between corporate boards and regulatory bodies and back again. Everywhere I've lived—"developed" world or not—I've seen the continuum of corruption that runs from smoke-filled rooms to the open-and-legal-yet-shocking. But you have to take your hat off to the New York-Boston corridor, where milking the system is a way of life. If the taxpayer is a cash cow, then this is Big Ag.

It's for that reason that I have found myself strangely attracted, like a rubbernecker to a car wreck, to everything having to do with the creation of a Wynn-operated casino complex, the Encore Boston Harbor, in the once rusty, quaint, and relatively sleepy Boston suburb of Everett. 

I liked Everett when I discovered it. It's rough around the edges, but genuine. I had to be there now and then, and I found both a corner bar and a gym I liked. Everett reminded me of the working-class neighborhoods of my hometown Baltimore. First news of a casino project in Everett broke when I arrived in New England in 2011, so I became interested in the natural social science experiment that ensued.

A piece of the development of the Encore project landed in the courts. When Wynn enterprises sought to site a casino in Everett, they offered to buy land from an outfit called FBT Everett Realty, LLC, for $75m. And because Wynn also was looking for a casino license, the real estate transaction drew the attentive oversight of the Massachusetts Gaming Commission.

As anyone who studies development will tell you, these major land acquisitions are always suspect. I remember when Baltimore announced plans to build the twin Ravens and Orioles stadiums in the heart of downtown, and there were rumblings, however futile, about the strangely coincidental land rush that had occurred in the area prior to the announcement. Too many buyers had political connections, and they profited handsomely by flipping their deeds over to the quasi-public stadium projects. That's how economic opportunity works in America, at least for people who pay the lower tax rates for capital gains.

In Massachusetts in 2011, the commonwealth had newly opened itself to big-time, Las Vegas-style gambling, so the commission was under heavy scrutiny to do its due diligence. Though it couldn't prove the precise relationship, as the Supreme Judicial Court explained, the commission suspected that an FBT co-owner was "a convicted felon with possible connections to organized crime": naturally, a red flag in gaming regulation. To its credit, the commission put the brakes on the real estate transaction and conditioned its casino approval on a renegotiation. FBT had to buy out its suspicious stakeholder, and the purchase price was dramatically reduced to $35m.

One minority owner of FBT was unhappy with the new deal and demanded compensation for the reduction. It happened that the same minority owner had bought out the interest of the problematic co-owner and still owed him money. To quell the quarrel and get the deal done, Wynn made a side deal in which it would pay the minority owner $19m, a proportional share of the price reduction that had satisfied the commission.

Wynn didn't pay, and the minority owner sued, alleging breach of contract, common law fraud, and unfair trade practices under the commonwealth's powerful and wide-ranging consumer protection statute, "chapter 93A." Ultimately resulting in the instant case, the First Circuit asked the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court to assess the enforceability of the side deal.

The high court opened its analysis with the supreme public policy of America, "The general rule of our law is the freedom of contract" (quoting Massachusetts precedent that in turn quoted the U.S. Supreme Court in Smith v. The Ferncliff (1939)). "However," the court qualified, "it is 'universally accepted' that public policy sometimes outweighs the interest in freedom of contract, and in such cases the contract will not be enforced" (also quoting state precedents).

I just finished a unit of 1L torts in which the class sees the interaction of tort with contract and equity principles in the assumption of risk. Specifically, we see how theories in equity, if rarely, can quash a cause of action or vitiate an affirmative defense. I hasten to clarify that public policy, like equity, is not a rule of law. It's like someone saying to the court "I should win, despite the rule, because that's what's best for society." It's why the judge gets to wear a sharp black robe, sit on a dais, and wield a gavel: to bring human judgment to bear when the usual operation of law would defy common sense. It's why judges cannot be replaced by AI. Yet.

Gaming regulation is among the "core police powers" of the political branches, the court reasoned. And the legislature clearly empowered the gaming commission to ensure "the integrity of the gaming licensing process" with "strict oversight" and "a rigorous regulatory scheme." The $19m side deal was within the scope of the commission's broad mandate. The deal had not been disclosed to the commission and it was inconsistent, the court opined, with the property sale that the commission approved.

The court had little trouble concluding: "Secret deals in violation of the public terms and conditions required for gaming licensure are unenforceable violations of public policy. They place in grave doubt the integrity of the public process for awarding the license, and thereby defeat the public's confidence in that process."

The Encore project has been a powerful economic boost to communities north of Boston, including Everett, delivering an infusion of business in the billions of dollars. The construction phase especially yielded social and economic benefits, creating jobs and opportunity.

Of course, the secondary effects of "sin" businesses such as casinos don't turn up until the projects have been in operation for awhile, and then especially as they age and decline in high-end commercial appeal. To date, there is conflicting evidence on the social impact of Encore with regard to factors such as crime and the environment. For me, the jury is still out on whether north Boston will see a net benefit from Encore in the long term. I hope it does, but I'm skeptical.

Game on.

The case is Gattineri v. Wynn MA, LLC, no. SJC-13416 (Mass. Nov. 3, 2023). Justice Scott L. Kafker wrote the unanimous opinion of the court. The case in the First Circuit is Gattineri v. Wynn MA, LLC, no. 22-1117 (1st Cir. Mar. 22, 2023) (referring questions).

Unforeseeability precludes lessor liability for saloon shooting, but court fails to mention 'scope of liability'

Jernej Furman CC BY 2.0 via Flickr

A property owner could not be held liable for the fatal shooting of a musician at a lessee nightclub, the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court held in August.

The court applied conventional principles of foreseeability, but made no mention of recently adopted "scope of liability" analysis.

In the tragic conclusion of a personal feud, 23-year-old musician Drake Scott was shot multiple times and killed at the City Limits Saloon in Boston in February 2016. Gregory Wright was found guilty of first-degree murder in the incident in 2019 and, at age 39, sentenced to life without possibility of parole. (E.g., CBS News.)

In subsequent civil litigation, Scott's mother sued UTP Realty, LLC, alleging negligent failure to prevent the shooting with better security or lighting. UTP had acquired the property, and with it the saloon's lease, in November 2015. The plaintiff said that past incidents of violence at the saloon should have put UTP on notice of the risk. UTP's principal denied any actual knowledge of the history.

Massachusetts does not recognize the common law invitee-licensee distinction in premises liability, rather observing a unitary standard of reasonableness—though that probably would not have mattered here. The older common law framework might have been less forgiving of UTP, as property owners owe a duty of reasonable investigation to discover risks. Still, the duty is merely one of reasonableness; it does not follow necessarily that even a diligent UTP investigation would have discovered the risk that resulted in Scott's murder.

More importantly, the court determined that Scott's murder was not reasonably foreseeable. Accordingly, UTP simply owed no duty to Scott, and by extension in wrongful death, his mother.

"The word 'foreseeable' has been used to define both the limits of a duty of care and the limits of proximate cause," the court quoted its own precedent citing legal treatises. "As a practical matter, in deciding the foreseeability question, it seems not important whether one defines a duty as limited to guarding against reasonably foreseeable risks of harm or whether one defines the necessary causal connection between a breach of duty and some harm as one in which the harm was a reasonably foreseeable consequence of the breach of duty."

UTP's property ownership was brief and at arm's length; Wright's act was sudden and brutal. In causal terms, an intervening cause in the person of an intentional criminal actor, especially in case of a violent offense, more often than not becomes a superseding cause, absolving an earlier negligent actor, such as a property owner, of legal responsibility. Upon that rule, the conclusion here is noteworthy, but not surprising. The same goes for the court's recognition that duty and legal causation offer alternative expressions of reasonable foreseeability.

The court's reasoning surprising, however, in the context of the court's recognition, amid what appeared to be a heated disagreement, of the Third Restatement approach to duty and causation in 2021, in Doull v. Foster, which I wrote about at the time.  Acknowledging the overlap between duty and legal causation, the Third Restatement sought to relocate policy-driven analysis to a more straightforward new element, "scope of liability."

Moreover, the Third Restatement eschewed the superseding causation approach as a way of solving the problem of multiple actors. Once the scope-of-liability hurdle is overcome, the Third Restatement favored instead the recognition of a question of fact as to the apportionment of liability between multiple culpable actors, even if one was merely negligent and the other committed an intentional crime.

Neither scope of liability nor apportionment, nor the Third Restatement nor Doull, for that matter, earned a mention in the instant case: a sound conclusion, in my opinion, but evidence in support of my skepticism of Doull's eagerness to embrace reform,

On the one hand, if it ain't broke, don't fix it. On the other hand, litigators and trial judges fairly might wonder when to Doull and when not.

The case is Hill-Junious v. UTP Realty, LLC, No. SJC-13380 (Mass. Aug. 16, 2023). Justice Serge Georges, Jr., wrote the unanimous court opinion. Justice Georges had just been appointed in December 2020 and did not participate in Doull.

Federal law shields car dealer in courtesy-car accident

CC0 by Open Grid Scheduler via Flickr

A car dealership could not be held vicariously liable to a pedestrian struck by a courtesy vehicle, the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court ruled in June.

A New Jersey Mercedes Benz dealer lent a customer, defendant Oke, a courtesy car while Oke's car was being repaired. After traveling to Boston (an apparent excess of the radius permitted by the courtesy-car contract), Oke left the key in the ignition, engine running, and his wife, Steele (no relation), in the passenger seat, while he attended to business. When a parking official demanded that the car be moved, Steele's attempt to do so resulted in collision with, and serious injury to, the pedestrian-plaintiff.

The laws of many states permit an injured person to pursue the owner of a vehicle in vicarious liability, regardless of the owner's fault. In a 2005 federal highway bill, Congress preempted and disallowed no-fault vicarious liability when the vehicle owner is a rental company. According to FindLaw, Congress was troubled by the likes of a $21m vicarious liability award against Budget in New York. The statutory language, "the Graves Amendment," was named for Rep. Sam Graves (R-Mo.), who estimated that vicarious liability awards cost car rental companies some $100m annually, a cost passed on to consumers.

The Supreme Judicial Court ruled that the Graves Amendment protected the New Jersey car dealer. The courtesy-car arrangement was part of the transaction for car service, the court reasoned, so akin to a rental agreement.

The court thus dismissed claims against the car dealer. However, reversing, the court remanded the plaintiff's claim against Oke for negligent entrustment. The trial court must resolve a question of fact, the court opined, before the negligent entrustment claim can be adjudicated. The plaintiff plausibly alleged that Oke had, under the circumstances, implicitly authorized Steele to move the car if necessary.

The surviving claim based on negligent entrustment provides a worthwhile reminder that, upon other facts, the Graves Amendment does not let car rental companies off the hook for liability theories in negligence, such as negligent entrustment and negligent maintenance.

The case is Garcia v. Steele, No. SJC-13378 (Mass. June 27, 2023) (FindLaw). Justice Dalila Argaez Wendlandt wrote the court's unanimous opinion.

Wrongful death depends on viability of decedent's action at time of death, Mass. high court rules

Via Picryl

When a statute of limitations precluded smokers' suits against tobacco makers, the smokers' families also could not sue in wrongful death after the smokers died, the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court ruled in July.

It's harder nowadays, than it once was late in the last century, for smokers to sue Big Tobacco for the health consequences of smoking. In accordance with the peculiar lifecycle of many product liability theories, tobacco makers have acquired strong defenses against smokers who persist despite now well known risks. There are occasional plaintiff wins, still. But over time, fewer cases can pass muster by proving recent manifestation of injury incurred long ago.

In one strategy to circumvent the natural expiration of product liability exposure, Massachusetts plaintiffs, whose family members succumbed to smoking-related illnesses, theorized that wrongful death in commonwealth statute is a cause of action independent of the decedent's causes for personal injury. In this theory, the wrongful death action comes into being only upon the death of the decedent and might resist defenses that would have defeated the decedents' own personal injury claims—namely, the statute of limitations.

In the consolidated Fabiano v. Philip Morris USA Inc. and Fuller v. R.J. Reynolds Tobacco Co., the plaintiffs alleged negligence and breach of warranty pursuant to the wrongful death statute, even while they did not dispute that the smoker-decedents, plaintiffs' family members, could not have sued in personal injury at the time of death because of the expiry of the limitations period for those actions. Accordingly, there also could be no survival claims in the names of the decedents.

The court rejected the plaintiffs' theory, affirming the judgment of the courts below in favor of the defendants. Even though it has its own statute of limitations, wrongful death was nonetheless intended by the legislature to be a derivative cause of action, the court opined. The cause vests in family only if the decedent has a viable cause at the time of death.

The court had said as much before as to personal injury actions, so affirmed that rule, and moreover held that plaintiffs in Fabiano and Fuller failed to distinguish breach of warranty claims. All of the family's liability theories are constrained by the wrongful death statute, and so by its limitations.

The court acknowledged that not every state agrees. Colorado and West Virginia seem to regard the wrongful death action as an independent statutory action. But they are out of step with the "overwhelming majority" rule in the states, the court observed.

In teaching torts, I prefer to describe wrongful death claims as "parasitic," rather than "derivative." The concepts are not co-extensive, but both terms capture the notion of dependency on the underlying personal injury claim. I admit, I had never considered the plaintiffs' theory and did not know about the Colorado and West Virginia approach.

There is a logic to the minority rule. A wrongful death claim means to compensate "parasitic plaintiffs" for their losses, not the losses of the decedent. The wrongful death plaintiff thus does not incur injury until the time of death. At the same time, the policy of the statute of limitations attached to the decedent's claim, which statute protects defendants against excessive liability exposure, is somewhat undermined by tacking on the enduring potential of a recovery upon death at an indefinite later time.

Justice David A. Lowy wrote the court's unanimous opinion in Fabiano and Fuller, No. SJC-13282 & No. SJC-13346 (Mass. July 6, 2023) (FindLaw).

Mass. court affirms big verdict against Big Tobacco

Autodesigner via Wikimedia Commons CC0 1.0

Last week, the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court affirmed a lung cancer victim's verdict against Marlboro maker Philip Morris (PM).

Arising from verdict in a $37m case against PM and co-defendants, including R.J. Reynolds Tobacco Co. and Star Markets, the decision broke no new ground, but might be instructive for students of product liability.

On appeal, PM did not "dispute that the plaintiffs introduced sufficient evidence of agreement between it and the other cigarette entities to deceive the public about the dangers of smoking.... Further, [PM did] not dispute the evidence of medical causation, i.e., that smoking causes the type of cancer from which Greene suffered."

Rather, PM asserted that the plaintiff failed to connect causally her choice to smoke to specific misrepresentations. The court wrote that PM viewed the evidence too narrowly, and that the plaintiff sufficiently "met this requirement by introducing evidence of her detrimental reliance on the conspiracy's misrepresentations regarding filtered cigarettes. [PM] represented that such products, including Marlboro Lights, delivered lower tar and nicotine and were a healthier alternative to regular cigarettes."

The plaintiff also met the burden of proving causation on a count of civil conspiracy. "The conspirators expressly misrepresented to the public that they would not have been in the business of selling cigarettes if cigarettes were truly dangerous," the court reasoned. Consequently, "the jury could have found that [the plaintiff] would have smoked less, or quit sooner, absent the conspiracy's campaign of fraud and deception."

PM also pointed to the court's 2021 adoption of the Third Restatement approach to causation (on this blog) to argue that the jury was erroneously instructed on "substantial causation." The court ducked the question by finding that counsel had not preserved their objection to the jury instructions.

Finally, the court upheld the award as against PM challenges to the trebling of damages under Massachusetts consumer protection law and the commonwealth's 12% judgment interest rate.

The case is Greene v. Philip Morris USA Inc., No. SJC-13330 (Mass. May 9, 2023). The unanimous opinion was authored by Justice Scott L. Kafker, who also wrote the opinion in the 2021 causation case.

'Civility' is code for conformity

The Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court two weeks ago struck down a town policy purporting to require civility in public meetings. The town policy resembles attempts to restrict academic freedom.

Board meeting, via Southborough Access Media video
(Kolenda at center).

'Civility' in Politics

In December 2018, Southborough, Massachusetts, resident Louise Barron took advantage of a public comment period at a town board meeting to call out board members on fiscal policy and, ironically, compliance with state open meetings law. Though not obliged to, board members responded. The discussion became heated, resulting in Barron calling one selectman, Daniel Kolenda, "a Hitler," and Kolenda abruptly ending the comment period and expelling Barron. (The meeting is on YouTube (cued). Read more at Wicked Local.)

Board policy provides for an open public comment period for extra-agenda items with this admonition:

All remarks and dialogue in public meetings must be respectful and courteous, free of rude, personal or slanderous remarks. Inappropriate language and/or shouting will not be tolerated. Furthermore, no person may offer comment without permission of the [c]hair, and all persons shall, at the request of the [c]hair, be silent. No person shall disrupt the proceedings of a meeting.

Barron challenged the policy and her expulsion under the freedom of assembly and freedom of speech provisions of the 1780 Massachusetts Declaration of Rights, articles 19 and 16, respectively. Barron forewent challenge under the younger (1791) First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution to keep the case in state court. 

And just as well. The Massachusetts Declaration is a revered document in its own right in American history and global human rights, and the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court has not hesitated to construe its provisions as more protective of civil rights than the federal standard. Indeed, for many years, well before I came to work in Massachusetts, I taught a public seminar on the First Amendment for the Freedom of Information Foundation of Texas and used the Massachusetts Declaration to demonstrate the close connection of FOI and assembly.

Article 19 provides, "The people have a right, in an orderly and peaceable manner, to assemble to consult upon the common good; give instructions to their representatives, and to request of the legislative body, by the way of addresses, petitions, or remonstrances, redress of the wrongs done them, and of the grievances they suffer."

In teaching freedom of information law, I often shorthand the constitutional context of access law as the "flip side of the coin" of the First Amendment. The idea is that the freedom of speech is meaningless, especially in the core protection of political expression, if one does not know the facts to speak about.

The coin characterization is useful, but it's not entirely accurate. The First Amendment recognition of assembly as ancillary to expression aptly indicates an interrelationship that is more an intertwining than a duality.

Board meeting, via Southborough Access Media video
(Barron at right).

In the opinion of the court, Justice Scott L. Kafker recounted Article 19's "illustrious" history.

The provision also has a distinct, identifiable history and a close connection to public participation in town government that is uniquely informative in this case. ... [Article] 19 reflects the lessons and the spirit of the American Revolution. The assembly provision arose out of fierce opposition to governmental authority, and it was designed to protect such opposition, even if it was rude, personal, and disrespectful to public figures, as the colonists eventually were to the king and his representatives in Massachusetts.

Our interpretation of the text, history, and purpose of art. 19 is further informed by the words and actions of Samuel and John Adams, who not only theorized and commented upon the right, but were historic actors well versed in its application during the revolutionary period, particularly in the towns. Both Adams cousins emphasized in their correspondence and their actions the importance of the right to assemble.... Samuel Adams wielded it to great effect in his attempt to "procure a Redress of Grievances" when the British governor of the colony attempted to exercise control over assemblies after the Boston Massacre.... 

More philosophically, John Adams explained that the right of assembly was a most important principle and institution of self-government, as it allowed "[every] Man, high and low ... [to speak his senti]ments of public Affairs.".... Town inhabitants, he wrote, "are invested with ... the right to assemble, whenever they are summoned by their selectmen, in their town halls, there to deliberate upon the public affairs of the town." .... "The consequences" of the right of assembly, in Adams's words, were that "the inhabitants ... acquired ... the habit of discussing, of deliberating, and of judging of public affairs," and thus, "it was in these assemblies of towns ... that the sentiments of the people were formed ... and their resolutions were taken from the beginning to the end of the disputes ... with Great Britain." .... Alexis de Tocqueville made a similar point in Democracy in America: "Town-meetings are to liberty what primary schools are to science; they bring it within the people's reach, they teach men how to use and how to enjoy it." ....

Cousins Samuel Adams and John Adams
(via JohnAdamsInfo.com)

The court had little difficulty concluding that the town policy thus ran afoul of article 19. 

There was nothing respectful or courteous about the public assemblies of the revolutionary period. There was also much that was rude and personal, especially when it was directed at the representatives of the king and the king himself.

The court furthermore held the town policy overbroad and vague in violation of the article 16 freedom of speech. The case did not require the court to determine whether the First Amendment public forum doctrine applies to article 16 problems, the opinion explained. Massachusetts precedents already establish that content-based restrictions of political speech are subject to strict scrutiny. Worse, the court reasoned, the policy is viewpoint based, as it allows "polite[] praise[]" of public officials while condemning "rude[] or disrespectful[] critici[sm]."

Well reasoned as it is, the decision in Barron v. Kolenda, No. SJC-13284 (Mar. 7, 2023), does not break new ground in freedom of speech, even in Massachusetts law. And the case has been well reported with commentary, for example by J.D. Tuccille for Reason ("Let Massholes Be Massholes, Says Bay State's High Court"), and by Pioneer Legal, The New York Times, and the Brennan Center. What enticed me to write about the case is the likeness of the civility code to efforts to extinguish academic freedom.

'Civility' in the Workplace

The go-to code word on American college campuses to curb faculty freedom has been "collegiality." Introducing a 2016 report, the AAUP explained:

In recent years, Committee A has become aware of an increasing tendency on the part not only of administrations and governing boards but also of faculty members serving in such roles as department chairs or as members of promotion and tenure committees to add a fourth criterion in faculty evaluation: "collegiality." For the reasons set forth in this statement, we view this development as highly unfortunate, and we believe that it should be discouraged....

.... Historically, "collegiality" has not infrequently been associated with ensuring homogeneity and hence with practices that exclude persons on the basis of their difference from a perceived norm. The invocation of "collegiality" may also threaten academic freedom. In the heat of important decisions regarding promotion or tenure, as well as other matters involving such traditional areas of faculty responsibility as curriculum or academic hiring, collegiality may be confused with the expectation that a faculty member display "enthusiasm" or "dedication," evince "a constructive attitude" that will "foster harmony," or display an excessive deference to administrative or faculty decisions where these may require reasoned discussion. Such expectations are flatly contrary to elementary principles of academic freedom, which protect a faculty member’s right to dissent from the judgments of colleagues and administrators.

I witnessed this problem in action in those "recent years." "Collegiality" as an excuse to demand conformity was key in prompting me to write and speak in 2009 and 2010 about the importance of what I termed "penumbral academic freedom." 

Are you part of "the team" at work?
(Rawpixel Ltd via Flickr CC BY 2.0)

The problem has only worsened. In fact, I see the "collegiality" expectation as a piece of the broader problem of corporate ideology that insists on everyone being a "team player." That's the coded language designed to alienate workers who hesitate to take on extra duties or to give up personal time without fair compensation. Too long in coming, the "quiet quitting" movement is a direct response to this self-serving worldview.

Though "team speak" is not a specially academic problem, the ever more corporatized public university embraces the jargon. Routinely, I hear my work for a public entity described as "public service." The characterization is invariably paired with a demand that I take on some additional responsibility with no more, if not with less, compensation, and certainly with less compensation than a similarly skilled colleague at a private institution.

The rhetoric is exhausting. I'm not on your "team." The faculty is not my football side. The office is not my church. The institutional "mission" is not my creed. Rather, I do a job. I get paid for the job. Quid pro quo. Often, I enjoy my work, and sometimes, I'm good at it. But it's work. Then (even when the switch is merely virtual) I go home. Where I don't work for anyone else. Where I have a family and a life. Where I hope to win the lottery and quit my job.

That arrangement should be a source of pride, not shame. A public institution performing a public service is no less laudable because its staff is paid rather than volunteer. When administrators, especially handsomely compensated deans and chancellors, break out the "public service" rhetoric, hat in hand, I want to ask why they cash their paychecks, if they're so committed to "public service."

Just as I digested the court's Barron decision and commentary last week, Professor Robert Steinbuch, a (genuinely collegial) colleague at another public law school, told me about a proposed amendment to his school's selection criteria for distinguished professorships. 

Apparently, there was dissatisfaction by some faculty, I assume for the very reasons the AAUP warned, that "collegiality" was an express factor in the assessment. Thus, the law school faculty development committee proposed changes including the following (red-ink deletions and additions as in original).

In awarding named professorships, the Dean shall consider criteria in addition to a candidate's meritorious work in their particular field, including but not limited to donor specifications associated with the title, the overall mission of the law school, and continued excellence in scholarship, teaching, service, civility, and respect and collegiality as outlined in the Bowen Faculty Handbook, and established University policy, or the Association of American Law Schools Best Practices.

....

III. SERVICE & COLLEGIALITY

....

In the space provided below, please describe any additional information you wish to provide reflecting exemplary service rendered in the spirit of civility, respect collegiality and collaboration at the law school and the university level and wider recognition at the national or international level.

....

Self-Assessment: Using the categories of scholarship, teaching, service, civility, and respect and collegiality in this Application, in the space provided below, please provide a candid assessment of how you would represent this Named Professorship while you held the award.

I suppose that any candidate selected for a distinguished professorship at this public law school, like anyone commenting on the performance of public officials in Southborough, Massachusetts, before Barron, "must be respectful and courteous" and refrain from the "rude" and "personal." Faculty governance is all well and good, as long as no one is offended.

Let the revolution be quelled.

Charitable immunity does not protect diocese from claims of sexual assault in 1960s, high court rules

St. Michael's Cathedral, Springfield, Mass.
(John Phelan via Wikimedia CC BY-SA 3.0)

Charitable immunity does not protect Catholic Church leaders in Springfield, Mass., from civil allegations of sexual assault, but it does shield them against liability for negligent supervision, the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court ruled yesterday.

Pseudonymous plaintiff John Doe alleged sexual abuse, including a "'brutal[] rape'" while being held down by fellow altar boys and priests in the 1960s. Doe alleged that he first recovered memory of the abuse in 2013; he first complained to the church in 2014.

After investigations, the church offered the plaintiff an apology in 2019, and in 2021, he sued over both the abuse in the 1960s and the handling of the complaint since 2014. The Superior Court denied the defendants common law charitable immunity and ecclesiastical abstention under the First Amendment, prompting interlocutory appeal. The Supreme Judicial Court declined any First Amendment question as premature in advance of final judgment.

By statute, Massachusetts curbed charitable immunity to a $20,000 quantitative limit ($100,000 in medmal) in 1971. But the statute is not retroactive to Doe's 1960s claims.

The purpose of common law charitable immunity, the court reasoned, is to protect charitable actors "from the burden of litigation and trial." But in the context of sexual assault allegations, the defendants cannot be said to have been performing a charitable function. In contrast, "negligent supervision ... is exactly the sort of allegation against which common-law charitable immunity was meant to protect," for it implicates managerial functions in the selection of subordinates.

The case arises in the home state of the Boston Globe Spotlight team, whose 2002-04 investigation surfacing church abuse became the subject of a 2015 feature film. The bishop named in the instant suit as a perpetrator, who died in 1982, was implicated in the Spotlight investigation.

The case is Doe v. Roman Catholic Bishop of Springfield, No. SJC-13219 (posted temporarily). Justice David A. Lowy wrote the unanimous opinion.

Grubhub drivers signed away right to sue, court rules

Haydn Blackey via Flickr CC BY-SA 2.0

Grubhub drivers signed away their right to sue on unfair wage claims, the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court ruled today.

Plaintiff Grubhub drivers complained that the company is stiffing them on minimum wages and tips under state law and, worse, retaliating against drivers who complain.

I have no knowledge of the validity of these claims, but I worry a lot about the exploitation of gig workers in our economy. This exploitation is a big slice of the broader problem of employers' over-classification of personnel as independent contractors to avoid having to provide fair wages and benefits. Sometimes employers cross the legal line and sometimes they don't; regardless, the effect of even the lawful leeway contributes to our glut of working people who cannot make ends meet, put us all at risk with insufficient insurance for healthcare and accidents, and spend so much on necessities as to have paralyzed American socioeconomic mobility. Our woefully outdated measures of employment fail to reflect this problem, which is why media pundits and Washington pointy-heads scrunch their faces in confusion over how we can have favorable job numbers and an "it's the economy, stupid" political crisis happening at the same time.

Collateral to labor exploitation, we have long had the problem of our court system being subverted by the supposed freedom to contract. At this point, we all know without even having to read the fine print that every terms-and-condition box we check, just like every product we liberate from shrinkwrap, binds us to arbitrate any disgruntlement and frees our adversaries from ever having to answer to us in the courts, which were designed for that very purpose. Many of us know furthermore that the terms of arbitration profoundly favor the respondent companies, both substantively, evidenced empirically by companies' overwhelming win rates, and, often, procedurally, by way of inconvenient venues, arcane procedures in contrast with small claims courts, and the burdens of transaction costs.  I've cited the definitive books on this subject by Nancy Kim and Margaret Jane Radin so many times, that, frankly, I just don't have the energy today to look up their URLs again.  Let's instead invoke the tireless Ralph Nader and his persistent admonition that we have undermined the Seventh Amendment, to which point I add humbly that anti-vigilantism is an important function of our civil dispute resolution system, and maybe we ought remember that in a society in which the least mentally stable among us apparently have ready access to firearms.

So it's the confluence of these two socio-legal problems that interests me in the present case, more than the merits. On the merits, the Grubhub complainants tried to work around their 2017 clickwrap agreement to arbitrate by characterizing themselves as a kind of interstate transportation worker that is exempt from the Federal Arbitration Act. But Grubhub drivers are not long-haul truckers. A for creativity, F for achievement. The court held that the drivers indeed signed away their right to sue.

F is likely to be the final disposition of the complaints in arbitration after remand, too.

You can read more in Archer v. Grubhub, Inc., No. SJC-13228 (July 27, 2022). Justice Dalila Argaez Wendlandt wrote the unanimous opinion (temporarily posted).  The case in Suffolk County Superior Court is no. 1984CV03277 (class action complaint filed Oct. 21, 2019).

The U.S. Chamber, dependable opponent of transparency and accountability, was among the amici on the prevailing side.  The Harvard Cyberlaw Clinic was among the amici for the workers. The office of Commonwealth Attorney General Maura Healey entered an appearance as amicus, but filed no brief. Healey's office sued Grubhub one year ago, alleging the company overcharged Massachusetts restaurants during the pandemic (complaint, press release). That case, no. 2184CV01719 in Suffolk County Superior Court, is pending currently on cross motions for summary judgment.