Book supports legal privilege for undercover reporting

Truth and Transparency, a recent book by Professors Alan K. Chen and Justin Marceau, is a comprehensive and gratifying tour of the history and law of undercover reporting.

Chen and Marceau teach at the Sturm College of Law at Denver University and have especial expertise in constitutional law, and respectively in public interest law and animal law. In their co-authorship, they examine the social phenomenon of undercover reporting that lies at the intersection of journalism, tort law, and the First Amendment—and often animal law, too.

I know Chen best for his work in opposing ag gag laws: statutes designed to stop and punish journalists, activists, and whistleblowers from investigating and revealing wrongful conduct and animal cruelty in the agricultural industry, especially by way of undercover video recording. Chen has worked against ag gag in Idaho, Iowa, Kansas, and Utah. I've been privileged to sign on to some of the amicus briefs he has coordinated.

Chen and Marceau leave no stone unturned. I was intrigued especially to read about the history of undercover reporting in the United States, the evolution of undercover reporting in its treatment in journalism ethics, and the thorough explication of undercover reporting in tort and First Amendment law.

Upton Sinclair's 1905 The Jungle, a novel based on real-life undercover reporting in the meatpacking industry, was my mind's go-to on the early history of the practice. Apropos of the present Women's History Month, however, it was female reporters such as Nellie Bly who carved out a niche for undercover reporting in the popular imagination in the late 19th century and deserve the most credit for pioneering the genre.

Bly, born Elizabeth Jane Cochran, famously had herself committed to a deplorable New York mental institution in 1887 for 10 days before a New York World lawyer secured her release, per prearrangement. Chen and Marceau recount the stories of Bly and other so-called "girl stunt reporters." They trace the history even further, as well, to antebellum abolitionists determined to expose the horrors of slavery.

Chen and Marceau explore a range of treatments of undercover reporting in journalism ethics, including the qualified permissiveness of the 1996 Code of Ethics of the Society of Professional Journalists, preserved in the more recent 2014 iteration. They observe as well the almost complete prohibition on the practice at National Public Radio, where journalists may engage in deception only when necessary to protect themselves in a conflict zone, and secret recordings may be used in only extraordinary circumstances.

A case that naturally arises throughout the book is the ABC News investigation of hygienic practices at Food Lion in the 1990s (at Reporters Committee). This case was contemporary with my university study of journalism, so was front and center in my class on journalism ethics. Whether or when journalists might engage in deception to get the story is a favorite point of discussion in journalism ethics class. The problem stratifies the need for public trust in journalism across the micro layers of people who are the subjects of stories and the macro layers of readers and the public interest. 

A court in Food Lion ultimately held that ABC journalists could be sued for trespass or breach of loyalty, but awarded only nominal damages. The factual problem for the plaintiffs that precluded a more substantial damages award was that notwithstanding the concealment of their motives, the journalists had been given jobs at Food Lion, and they did their jobs. So from a damages perspective, Food Lion got what it paid for. The appellate court, unlike the trial jury, was unwilling to consider the reputational harm flowing from truthful disclosures, if deceptively obtained, as any kind of compensable loss.

The outcome in Food Lion was consistent with the broad propositions of First Amendment law that there is no right to gather the news, which is why the Freedom of Information Act is a statutory rule, not a constitutional one; and that journalists are not exempt from generally applicable expectations of law, such as honoring contracts, obeying police orders—and not trespassing. As Chen and Marceau observe, the outcome exerted a chill in investigative reporting.

However, the Food Lion rule is hardly absolute, Chen and Marceau also aptly observe. The rule of no-right-to-gather-news has never been wholly true. The courts have given media latitude to test the limits, for example disallowing wiretap liability for receiving probably illegally intercepted communications. And technological advances have complicated the picture. A majority of U.S. circuit courts now, in a post-George Floyd world, have held that the First Amendment protects video-recording police in public places. The proposition seems right, but it doesn't square with the news-gathering rule.

The outcome in Food Lion further hints at a deeper problem in tort law that Chen and Marceau explore: the problem of damages in cases of only notional harm. In contemporary doctrine, a trespass with no infliction of physical harm or loss might entitle a plaintiff to an equitable remedy of injunction, but no more than nominal damages in tort law, thus Food Lion. Though with no damages in the offing, there is no deterrence to deceptive trespass, a logic that likely explains the eventual waning of Food Lion's chilling effect. The problem bleeds into the contemporary debate over the nature of damages in personal privacy violations. 

Journalism exceptionalism resonates as well in the problem of trespass and consent. Food Lion suggests that consent to enter property is vitiated by deception as to one's motive. Chen and Marceau explore opposing academic and judicial views on the question.

In a remarkable work of empirical research unto itself, Chen and Marceau's chapter 6 presents compelling data to show overwhelming public support for undercover reporting to expose wrongdoing. Public support seems to transcend political ideology and even whether the perpetrator of deception is a journalist or activist.

Chen and Marceau argue summatively and persuasively for a qualified legal privilege to protect journalistic deception in undercover reporting. Historical, ethical, and legal authorities all point in the same direction. Even the Fourth Circuit in Food Lion hedged its bets, observing that generally applicable employment law as applied in the case had only an "incidental effect" on news-gathering; in other words, news-gathering was outweighed as a consideration, not shut out.

Technological advances and citizen journalism will continue to generate conflict among conventional norms of property and fair dealing, evolving norms of privacy, and public interest in accountability in private and public sectors. Truth and Transparency is an essential manual to navigate in this brave new world.

Americans chase dream of air passenger rights, while EU consumer protection reaches age of majority

Boarding a flight in Ilorin, Nigeria, in December 2022.
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

A Savory Tort Investigation

The Christmastime Southwest meltdown has prompted tongue wagging in Congress over a "Passenger Bill of Rights" to redress the radical imbalance of market power that has left Americans at the mercy of an oligopolist airline industry for decades.

Don't get your hopes up. In the United States, airlines have been playing cat and mouse with regulators since the mail took to the air in the 1920s. And the cat has never been enthusiastic about the chase. 

Passenger protection from exploitative practices in the airline industry has been a congressional dog whistle since overbooking became a business model in the 1960s. Ralph Nader took on the issue, along with so many others, in the 1970s. We've swung back and forth between transparent pricing and the piling on of surprise fees enough times to make you use your sick bag. Over the years, more passenger bills of rights have died in Congress than we have airlines. Well, that's a low bar, but you take my point.

As in all things when corporatocracy clashes with simple equity in the marketplace, the European Union is doing a better job than the United States to level the playing field. The crown jewel of more robust European consumer protection is Regulation 261/2004, which has been on the job for almost twenty years. When flights are delayed or canceled, EU 261 requires compensation to customers in cold, hard cash.

The circumstances that lead to an EU 261 payout are well circumscribed. But when it happens, an airline feels the pinch. The regulation pertains upon delay or cancellation, EU guidance explains (bold in original), when:

• the flight is within the EU and is operated either by an EU or a non-EU airline;
• the flight arrives in the EU from outside the EU and is operated by an EU airline; or
• the flight departs from the EU to a non-EU country operated by an EU or a non-EU airline.

Here is the compensation schedule, per passenger:

• Type 1: €250 for a delay of two-plus hours, or €125 if re-routed to arrive fewer than four hours late, for flights of 1,500 kilometers or less.
• Type 2: €400 for a delay of three-plus hours, or €200 if re-routed to arrive fewer than four hours late, for intra-EU flights of more than 1,500 kilometers and for all other flights between 1,500 and 3,000 kilometers.
• Type 3: €600 for a delay of four-plus hours, or €300 if re-routed to arrive fewer than four hours late, for all other flights.

There need be no compensation when the delay can be attributed to a cause extrinsic to the carrier, such as weather. A passenger's receipt of compensation, including non-monetary assistance, pursuant to the law of a non-EU country precludes an EU claim.

Cash compensation is a welcome recognition that airline passengers suffer real costs when flights are delayed or cancelled—more than what is covered by a meal voucher or even, when necessary, an overnight stay. Ours is now a world of nonrefundable reservations for hotels, cars, and tours. Travel insurance is becoming a must, and yet another expense. Vacation time meanwhile is increasingly scarce, especially for Americans.

Meaningful compensation incentivizes airlines to work smarter. For example, scheduling departures too tightly, failing to anticipate mechanical needs, or simply de-prioritizing the correction of problems all become decisions with bottom-line consequences.

The outer jurisdictional limits of EU 261 are not spelled out on the face of the regulation, but European regulators and courts largely have construed silence expansively. EU 261 claims are not limited to EU citizens and airlines, as long as an EU country can exercise jurisdiction. EU 261 has an exception for "extraordinary circumstances," but courts have construed the exception narrowly, excluding technical problems. Court rulings in the late 2010s led to the application of EU 261 to U.S. carriers operating international connections to and from the EU.

At the same time, compliance has been a mixed bag. The fuzziness at the margins of EU 261 application, along with the reality that not all domestic authorities have been prepared to invest fully in enforcement, has afforded airlines room to fudge fulfillment of their obligations.

In the event of a maloccurrence, airlines are obliged to make passengers aware of their EU 261 rights, and passengers file claims with the airlines, not with regulators. The airlines can be less or more forthcoming with notifications and the ease with which consumers can file claims. There are reports, moreover, of airlines simply not paying what's owed. As a result, a cottage industry has arisen of intermediary companies that facilitate consumer claims in exchange for significant contingency fees.

As an American citizen traveling to, from, and through the EU, I’ve made some EU 261 claims in recent years, since the regulation expanded to reach foreign flight legs. I tested different options to make my claims, and I promised to share some outcomes.

No-Coverage Cases

It’s first important to articulate unfortunately ever more common passenger experiences that are not covered by EU 261—and, needless to say, precipitate no consumer protection in U.S. law.

My fellow Lagos-bound passengers and I wait in Paris.
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

CLAIM DENIED by Air France: EU transit.  In December 2022, I traveled from Boston, Massachusetts, to Lagos, Nigeria, via New York and Paris.  Because of a mechanical problem, after several hours’ delay, the connection from Paris to Lagos was canceled and rescheduled for the following day.  My booking was with Delta; KLM owned the itinerary; and the canceled connection was operated by Air France. EU 261 charges the operator with responsibility. Air France provided a €15 meal voucher and overnight accommodation, including a shuttle after quite a long wait. Such intermediate compensations do not preclude EU 261 awards.

Air France denied the type-3 compensation claim I filed directly with the airline. An Air France agent wrote:

I am really sorry to have to inform you that the EU Regulation 261/2004 does not apply when flight departs from a point outside the EU or EEA and travels to a final destination outside EU or EEA, via a connection in an airport in the EU or EEA.

Since your flight departs from Boston and arrives in Lagos via New York and Paris, we regret our inability to accede to your request for compensation on this occasion.

To be clear, every leg of this journey was a different "flight," with its own flight number; this was not a continuation "flight." My itinerary originated and terminated outside the EU. At the same time, Air France's interpretation of "flight" in EU 261 seems consistent with my other claim experiences. I suppose Air France was obliged to pay compensation to passengers who originated in Paris; I don’t know. I was not given any particular notice of EU 261 rights; maybe passengers originating in Paris were.

NO CLAIM against Air France: Advance cancellation. In November 2022, I traveled from Boston, Massachusetts, to Kraków, Poland, via Amsterdam.  I booked through Egencia; Air France owned the itinerary; KLM operated the connection to Kraków.

A month after my purchase, but still a month before the departure, KLM canceled the connection to Kraków. KLM rebooked me on another flight, lengthening my layover by five hours and putting me late into Kraków. Air France offered a full refund, in the alternative, but refused to book me on another carrier that would arrive earlier into Kraków.

Patriotic illumination aboard an Air France flight.
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

The problem here was that I had paid more for a morning arrival in Kraków, because I had to work there that day. I could have booked for the midday or later arrival with another carrier for less money at the time I purchased, had I wanted to. I chose the SkyTeam Alliance specifically for the early arrival. In the month since the purchase, the alternatives had risen exorbitantly in price as international itineraries. I could still buy a replacement connection to Kraków for midday arrival from another carrier, but Air France also refused to release me from the KLM connection. If I failed to appear for the KLM connection, Air France would cancel my ticket home.  I had no choice but to accept the change and miss most of my work day.

KLM claimed that it canceled the morning connection—a month in advance—because of a "mechanical problem." Apparently, no regulation requires an airline to tell the truth. I rather believe that KLM canceled the flight because SkyTeam's multiple flights to Kraków were undersold.

I could not make an EU 261 claim, because airlines are permitted to make whatever changes they please more than seven days before departure. This is a big gap in consumer protection, because passengers have no ability to rebook with another carrier so close to the departure date.

I did complain to the U.S. Department of Transportation (DOT), because it is impermissible, even under U.S. regulations, for a carrier to cancel a flight merely because it's undersold. Unfortunately, this rule is rarely enforced, because it's so easy for a carrier to point to another reason for the cancellation. KLM continued to claim mechanical failure, never explaining how that hurdle could not be overcome with a month's advance notice.

DOT took no action, but entered my complaint in its "industry monitoring system." I suppose this is the same system through which, a mere 16 years after Southwest began A-B-C boarding, it seems finally to have dawned on federal regulators that maybe children should not be forced to sit next to strangers. That would have been a nice policy change to have had when my daughter was growing up.

NO CLAIM against Turkish Airlines: Airport change.  This is an older matter, but I’m throwing it in here because it's a variation on the problem of advance cancellation that might well happen to other people in today's tight market. 

In November 2020, I was to travel from Boston, Massachusetts, to Khartoum, Sudan, via Istanbul, on Turkish Airlines.  Within a week of departure, Turkish canceled my Boston flight and rebooked me on a departure from New York JFK. That’s not an easy or costless transit, from my home to JFK: a four- to five-hour drive each way, or a slow train with multiple transfers. Turkish refused any compensation, offering only complete cancellation as an alternative, and that only when I asked.

This was not an EU 261 matter, because there was no point of contact with Europe.  If the same thing happened, though, with a transit in Europe, EU 261 would not have applied, at least according to the reasoning of Air France in the above-described claim denial. If Turkish made such a change for an EU-bound flight, I hope that EU 261 would apply. I wonder what would happen if Turkish changed the airport, but not the flight number; that's not a delay or a cancellation.

I'll never find out, because I now exclude Turkish Airlines from my fare searches. I suggest you do the same.

Coverage Cases

CLAIM SETTLED with SATA Air Açores: Delayed flight within EU. In July 2022, I traveled within Portugal, from Lisbon to Terceira Island, on SATA Air Açores. Because of a mechanical failure, my 4:15 p.m. departure was delayed to 9:55 p.m. SATA gave me a €10 food voucher. I incurred some additional expense having to get a nighttime transfer on the island, and I lost some daylight leisure time.

My SATA rights notice.

Lisbon to Terceira maps out at 1,555 kilometers, so just over the threshold for a type-2 claim. When I received the voucher at the airport, the agent also gave me a well copied notice of rights in paper. The notice was in Portuguese with no translation.  In Portuguese, the notice accurately described the three types of EU 261 events, but conspicuously omitted any numerical amounts of compensation. In late July, I filed a €400 claim directly with SATA via email.

In September, SATA responded via email with a counteroffer: €300. I accepted. SATA sent me a form to provide my banking information for a wire transfer. I did so, but SATA wrote subsequently to say that it couldn't get the transfer to go through—foreign payers often struggle to align their parameters with U.S. bank data—and that it would send a check. In November, I received a paper check in the mail for US$322.

I accepted the SATA offer because I thought it was more than fair, even though I was entitled to €400 under EU 261. SATA implicitly acknowledged as much by offering more than €250. But my roundtrip ticket with SATA had cost me only €255. And I didn't feel there was any misfeasance on SATA's part. There was no indication that the mechanical failure could have been anticipated; airport agents acted quickly and efficiently to reschedule; and SATA tasked the flight to another plane the same day, if later. Overall, I remained happy with SATA service, despite my lost time. I don't know what SATA would have done had I refused the offer and insisted on €400.

CLAIM PAID by American Airlines: Delayed flight in United States. Also in July 2022, I traveled from Lisbon, Portugal, to Boston, Massachusetts, via Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. I booked on Egencia, and American Airlines operated all flights. The connection from Philadelphia to Boston was delayed more than three hours, but less than four.

Had American Airlines not made such a mess of this delay, I probably would not have thought to apply for EU 261 compensation. This was the kind of straightforward poor customer service that, sadly, Americans have simply come to expect. The delay seemed to have resulted from the unavailability of crew. Passengers actually boarded the plane, and then we were ordered to deboard and return to the terminal. Gate agents offered conflicting explanations. They seemed to be arguing with each other. The tension was contagious, and information was scarce. Space around the gate was overcrowded. The scene was chaotic, ugly, and frustrating.

It's not immediately apparent that EU 261 applies. The flight was a domestic connection; there were passengers on board with no passports. This was the inverse of the Air France claim-denial situation I described above. My point of origin in the EU was dispositive, even when the problem arose on a domestic connection in the United States. My American citizenship was immaterial. The relevant facts under EU 261 were that my itinerary started in the EU, and I arrived more than three hours late to my final destination.

Even insofar as EU 261 applied, I wasn't sure what type of claim mine was. The overall travel distance, the "flight," defined by itinerary, was more than 5,000 kilometers. But the "flight," defined by a leg with unique flight number, from Philadelphia to Boston was less than 500 kilometers. 

Under the circumstances, I expected that if I made a claim, American would deny it. After all, I might notionally be entitled to make a claim under European law, but where would I enforce? The U.S. DOT barely enforces U.S. regulations; it's not likely to expend resources to enforce foreign law. The relevant EU jurisdiction was Portugal. But would I, a non-European, have standing before a Portuguese regulatory authority? 

With so much uncertainty, I was inclined to let the matter drop. But over the next couple of days, I became angry again that American never reached out with any kind of apology for its mess. What the heck, I thought. At least filing a 261 claim would let me vent.

At the same time, because I seriously doubted that I would see a dime, I decided to try using an intermediary. After reading some reviews, I chose AirHelp, a 10-year-old startup from Berlin that is now global. AirHelp promises to make the claims process easy, and it did. In late July, I uploaded my documents and provided a short description of what happened. I got to vent.

AirHelp kept me apprised of my claim status. It sent me an email saying it had determined that I had a valid claim for €300. That seems right, using the itinerary as the measuring stick to reach type 3, and acknowledging that the delay in the end was under four hours. AirHelp said that it would make that demand of American Airlines. Thereafter, AirHelp periodically let me know that it was still waiting to hear back.

To my surprise, in mid-November, AirHelp told me that American had agreed to pay €300. AirHelp sent me an invoice showing that it was deducting its 35% contingency fee of €105. AirHelp sent me a check for the difference in U.S. dollars, $201.38. The fee was hefty, but maybe not bad for a claim I never thought would be honored.

✈     ✈     ✈

In sum, EU 261 is a powerful accountability tool, even if, 18 years on, it leaves some wide gaps in consumer protection. Americans should have at least as good a mechanism at their disposal. Our airlines meanwhile are fighting against accountability, trotting out the usual "be careful what you ask for" warning that our mere expectation of market equity will make air travel unaffordable. Seems to me that if American consumers are going to lose either way, misery loves company.

Sponsored in the present U.S. Congress by Senators Richard Blumenthal (D-Conn.) and Ed Markey (D-Mass.), the "Passenger Bill of Rights" now pending as S. 178 calls for a ticket refund and re-routing, even on another carrier, for delays of one to four hours, and, additionally, $1,350 cash compensation for delays of more than four hours.

I'm sure the check's in the mail.

Judge excoriates city in public records row

Worcester, Mass., City Hall
(Mass. Office of Travel & Tourism CC BY-ND 2.0 via Flickr)

In a remarkable opinion in January 2022, the Massachusetts Superior Court excoriated the city of Worcester, Massachusetts, for failure to comply with a newspaper's public records request investigating police misconduct.

In 2018, GateHouse Media, owner of the Worcester Telegram & Gazette and a subsidiary of Gannett, filed a Massachusetts freedom of information act (FOIA) request for files related to investigations of Worcester police in civil rights matters. The Telegram's interest was spurred by Worcester attorney Hector E. Pineiro, who was upset by police interaction with his son.

The city resisted production of the records because, it argued, they were part of ongoing litigation involving police officers. The Massachusetts FOIA has no litigation exemption per se, but officials shield some records under the deliberative process exemption, relating to policy positions still in development. The city grossly over-relied on that strategy, the court concluded in June 2021 after a rare FOIA trial.

GateHouse Media persisted with its case even after shaking lose the records, demanding that the city be permanently enjoined from similar baseless argument in the future and be charged with punitive damages. In January, the Superior Court, per Justice Janet Kenton-Walker, substantially sided with GateHouse, finding that the city had acted in bad faith and needlessly protracted the litigation and costs for years.

Not only did the city rely erroneously on the text of statute, Justice Kenton-Walker opined, it "cherry-picked certain language from ... cases, taking it out of context." And the city had an ugly history with the same issue. The court explained:

[T]he court cannot ignore that [the city] originally took [its] position in spite of the fact that the city was one of the parties to, and thus aware of, Worcester Telegram & Gazette Corp. v. Chief of Police of Worcester (Mass. App. Ct. 2003). In that case, the Appeals Court held that materials in a "Worcester police department internal affairs file ... compiled during an investigation of a citizen complaint," were public records. That court stated explicitly that "[i]t would be odd, indeed, to shield from the light of public scrutiny as 'personnel [file] or information' the workings and determinations of a process whose quintessential purpose is to inspire public confidence" (emphasis added).

The court declined to award an injunction, reasoning that the threat of litigation should provide sufficient deterrence. "Simply put, the court expects the city to follow the law now and in the future," the judge wrote.

But the court did order the city to pay $5,000 in "punitive damages." That's at the top of a range allowed by state law when public officials act in bad faith. The money goes to the state Public Records Assistance Fund, rather than to the plaintiff.

According to the Telegram in February, Pineiro said that "he believes the city fought 'tooth and nail' to avoid producing the records because it did not want the public to see a police internal disciplinary process he labeled a 'sham.'"

The city wrote in a statement, the Telegram reported, that it would "move on" and not appeal.

The case is GateHouse Media, LLC v. City of Worcester, No. 1885CV1526A (Mass. Super. Ct. Jan. 26, 2022).

BU prof's death was tragic accident; investigation shows bad policy, but not criminal negligence

A Savory Tort Investigation

I've posted for public download [no longer posted; contact me for file] files of the investigation into the matter of Boston University (BU) Professor David K. Jones, who died on September 11, 2021, when he fell through a rusted stairway near a Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority (MBTA) station.

When the Suffolk County (Mass.) DA announced in January that no criminal charges would be filed in the death, I requested the investigative files under state public records law. Record Access Officer Claudia Buruca filled my request promptly and kindly (in May; I'm just getting around to it). The ZIP file I created in Dropbox runs about 97.3 megabytes and includes documents, images, and 911 audio, all appropriately redacted by the DA's office to protect the privacy of the decedent and family.

I wrote about the incident here last October. A professor in the School of Public Health at BU (in memoriam) and husband and father of three in Milton, Mass., Jones was a runner and was out training for a marathon. He mounted a stairway on MBTA property in Boston that connected Old Colony Avenue, below, with Columbia Road, passing overhead. Four treads in the uppermost part of the stairway were missing, and Jones fell through, about 20 feet, to his death.

In reference to the DA's decision on criminal charges, I wanted to know more about why the rusted stairway was accessible to Jones. The file (in accordance with subsequent news reporting) revealed that demolition of the stairway had been planned, but was delayed by confusion over what state agency was responsible. In the meantime, the stairway was blocked at top and bottom. The stairway has been demolished since.

A warning: in the following paragraphs I will describe the evidence dispassionately, and the details might be troubling to some readers, especially if you knew Jones.

All photos are from the investigative file.

It appears that the stairway was well blocked at the top by a jersey wall, fencing, and signage. It was not as well blocked at the bottom. There was a high, temporary fence strung across the alighting threshold. Jones would have to have gone around the fence knowingly and deliberately. But doing so was not hard.

A Google Street View image from November 2020 shows the fence footing sitting well past the stairway corner.

At the left end of the alighting handrail, the fencing was anchored to a vertical steel post, which stood upon a rectangular steel footing. A Google Street View image from the preceding year shows the footing set out well past the end of the stair, so the fencing extended across the threshold and then a prophylactic foot or more. Also, while an apparently older image in the investigative file shows a "Danger / No Trespassing" sign affixed to the fence at the bottom of the stairway, that sign appears to have gone missing by the time of the Google Street View image in November 2020.

Accident-scene images show that the footing had migrated to the corner of the stairway footing and angled to 45 degrees. So a narrow gap between the end of the handrail and the start of the fencing left the stairway more readily accessible. Also, the "Danger" sign still is missing.

Either way, it was never very difficult for a person to squeeze around the end of the fence and onto the stairway. There is video surveillance of Jones walking—not running—up the stairs, and then of him falling. But no camera captured how he circumvented the fence at the bottom, nor what happened when he encountered the gap in the stairs.

I had assumed, based on my own experience as a runner, that Jones had run up the stairs, probably looking up and ahead, and lost his footing at the missing treads. So I was surprised to see that he walked up. Also surprising, about nine seconds, give or take, elapsed between his disappearance from camera view, moving up the stairs, and his falling back through the camera view. That's more time than would have been needed to go the rest of the way. One possibility is that he lost his footing, but was able to hold on to something for a short time before falling. Another possibility is that he saw the gap, tried to circumnavigate it, and failed. There's no way to know.

Whatever the unknown circumstances, personally, I am satisfied that the DA made the right call. The delay in demolition of the stairway, the too easily circumventable fencing, and the missing danger sign significantly and unnecessarily exacerbated the risk of injury or death and evidence bad public policy. But the conditions don't, in my mind, rise to the level of criminal negligence, which involves willful ignorance of an obvious risk of harm—much closer to civil recklessness than to civil negligence. For Jones's part, he had to know that he was taking some risk in circumventing the fencing. And I say that mindful that I've made some bad choices myself in the past, so there but for the grace of God....

Rusted treads that had not yet detached.

Even in the absence of criminal negligence, it would be nice to know that the bad practices of demolition delay, circumventable fencing, and missing danger signs are being addressed by the MBTA. To be fair, the MBTA should be lauded for having closed the stairway before an accident happened in the absence of barriers.

At the same time, why did the staircase rust so to begin with? Ironically, Jones worked as a public health scholar studying social risk factors. Bigger questions loom about our aging infrastructure and who pays the price when it fails.

RIP Andrew Jennings, legendary investigative sport reporter who exposed corruption in FIFA, IOC

Andrew Jennings testifies in a Brazilian legislative probe  of the national football
federation (photo by Waldemir Barreto/Agência Senado CC BY 2.0).

A pause today to take stock of the work of investigative reporter and anti-corruption advocate Andrew Jennings, publisher of Transparency in Sport, who died on January 8.

Jennings was a tireless and cantankerous thorn in the side of Big Sport.  It would be difficult to overstate the role he played in precipitating the sea-changing revelations of corruption in the administration of the Olympics and international football.  He broke new ground with his books, The Lord of the Rings (1992) and Foul! The Secret World of FIFA (2006).  The "fall of the house of FIFA" and boss Sepp Blatter in the 2015 corruption scandal probably would not have happened had Jennings not sewed the seeds a decade earlier.

Jennings was a prolific writer across media, his many books besides.  Notwithstanding a more-than-fair share of earned global acclaim and enmity, Jennings also was a tirelessly supportive colleague in his crusade.  Email to his blog's contact address went directly to him; he personally and kindly answered a query of mine when I was researching on sport accountability.  He penned a foreword and praise for Whatever It Takes: The Inside Story of the FIFA Way, the book (reviewed) by Australian whistleblower (and friend of The Savory Tort) Bonita Mersiades.

Andrew Jennings has been widely memorialized, e.g., Sports Illustrated. His death leaves a gaping hole in the agencies of accountability for the quasi-corporate behemoths of transnational sport.  But his work has shown the world irrevocably that corruption thrives in the dark soil of secrecy.

Latest installment of Trump family litigation saga includes tortious interference claim against media

A leaked Trump 1040 from 2005

Former President Donald Trump has sued his niece, Mary Trump, and The New York Times Co. in the latest installment of intrafamilial litigation related to Mary's 2020 book, Too Much and Never Enough.

Filed yesterday in Dutchess County, New York, this latest lawsuit (complaint at CNS; Times's own coverage) mainly alleges breach of contract in the earlier settlement of litigation by Mary against Donald over the handling of the estate of Donald's father, Fred, who died in 1999.  I wrote on the course blog for my Trump Litigation Seminar in 2020 about another lawsuit, which is ongoing, by Mary against Donald over the estate of her father, Fred, Jr.; and about a suit by Donald's brother Robert, who died in 2020, which failed to enjoin publication of Mary's book.

The instant complaint alleges that Mary Trump was the source of Trump tax records published by The New York Times in its 2020 exposé.  The bits that interest me are counts of tortious interference with contract and of "aiding and abetting" tortious interference—or the civil equivalent of aiding and abetting, more accurately described as "providing substantial assistance or encouragement"—against the Times.  The complaint alleges that the Times "relentlessly" encouraged Mary to leak the tax records while knowing full well that doing so would breach her confidentiality agreement.

An intentional tort, tortious interference is not confined to business or media, though it's often classified as a "business tort," its usual injury being economic loss.  And it's often included in mass comm law treatments as a "media tort," because it's sometimes deployed against news media.

The paradigmatic case of an interference tort leveled against news media is the threat of Brown & Williamson Tobacco to sue CBS for its 1995 60 Minutes interview with whistleblower-scientist Jeffrey Wigand in violation of Wigand's non-disclosure agreement.  There is a classic scene in the feature film about the matter, The Insider, in which CBS producer Lowell Bergman (Al Pacino) loses his marbles upon admonition by CBS counsel Helen Caperelli (Gina Gershon) that truth is not a defense to interference, rather is an aggravating factor.  "What is this, Alice in Wonderland?" Bergman wonders aloud.  The instant Trump case is compelling for its similarity to the Insider facts.  

Interference as a media tort in the public imagination, or at least the lawyer-public imagination, surfaces periodically.  I wrote about the issue in 2011 when Wikileaks for a while threatened to spill the secrets of big banks.  (That fizzled.)  The high incidence of non-disclosure agreements in settlements of Me Too matters, and the former President's enthusiasm for NDAs combined to fuel another spurtive engagement with the issue in recent years. 

The issue prompts sky-is-falling missives from media because the role of, or any role for, the First Amendment as a defense to tortious interference is fuzzy.  In reality, the problem rarely gets that far.  Without unpacking the nitty gritty, it suffices to say that tortious interference has public policy built into its rigorous heuristic.  It is prohibitively difficult to press the tort against a publisher operating with at least a gloss of public interest.

The Trump complaint tries to circumnavigate that problem by accusing the Times of profit motive in its pursuit and publication of the tax records.  But the history of tort litigation against mass media is littered with failed attempts to drive the stake of profit-making through the heart of the journalistic mission.  Whatever degradations have afflicted mass media in our age of misinformation, no court is going to buy the argument against the Times on that score, at least not on these facts—cf. Palin v. N.Y. Times (N.Y. Times), in which the alleged editorial misconduct is substantially more egregious.

The case is Trump v. Trump, Index No. 2021-53963 (N.Y. Sup. Ct. filed Sept. 21, 2021).

Tenth Circuit affirms injunction of Kansas ag gag law

My dog Rocky (2001-2019) at the Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve, Kansas, 2009
(RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0)

The Animal Legal Defense Fund has prevailed in an ag gag case in the Tenth Circuit, a three-judge panel upholding permanent injunction of the Kansas law.

I wrote recently about ag gag in the Eighth Circuit, where the court sustained a criminal prohibition on entering agricultural facilities on false pretenses.

The Kansas law was impermissibly viewpoint discriminatory, the Tenth Circuit panel held, in its requirement that the offender bear "intent to damage the enterprise conducted at the animal facility."  Because the law criminalized conduct exclusively with reference to the protected expression that would follow from entrance and recording on agricultural property, the court rejected the government's argument on appeal that the statute criminalized only conduct, not speech.

In dissent, U.S. Circuit Judge Harris Hartz—a member of the Judicial Education Advisory Board at the George Mason Law and Economics Center, participant in the Third Restatement of Agency, and once an academic—opined that merely retrenching the statutory definition to intentional deception would render the statute constitutional.  Judge Hartz and the majority found themselves in an R.A.V.-Wisconsin v. Mitchell tug of war, familiar to First Amendment scholars and law students, over whether the statutory intent requirement merely described mens rea or constituted impermissible viewpoint discrimination.

The dissent demonstrates what I wrote last week, that ag gag laws typically fail for overreach, but can be drafted constitutionally, thus, the mixed outcome in the Eighth Circuit.

The case is ALDF v. Kelly, No. 20-3082 (10th Cir. Aug. 19, 2021).  U.S. Circuit Judge Carolyn McHugh affirmed in the majority opinion, which was joined by her fellow Utahn Senior Judge Michael Murphy. Labor organizations, law professors, and a profusion of media organizations, including the Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press and Kansas press and sunshine advocates, lined up as amici against the Kansas law.

'What is truth?': 8th Circuit wrangles over ag gag

The Eighth Circuit reached mixed outcomes yesterday in First Amendment review of the Iowa "ag gag" law, upholding a criminal prohibition on entering agricultural production facilities under false pretenses.

Sausage packing in Chicago, 1893

"Ag gag" refers to laws designed to deter undercover investigative reporting on the agricultural industry, especially by criminalization. On the one side, journalists, public health advocates, and animal rights activists point to a tradition of undercover reporting dating to the Upton Sinclair muckraking classic The Jungle (1906), which exposed labor exploitation in the meat industry.

Journalist and professor Brooke Kroeger—who filed an amicus with the Eighth Circuit in the instant case—in her book Undercover Reporting: The Truth About Deception (2012), actually traces the tradition farther back, to reporting on slavery and human trafficking in the 19th century.  For a more recent entry in the genre, check out Michael Holtz's fascinating pandemic-era report, in last month's Atlantic, from inside a Kansas slaughterhouse.

On the other side, private business and advocates for private property rights point to the simple proposition that falsehood is impermissible in commerce and should not be permitted to facilitate trespass and undermine (markedly unidirectional) employee loyalty.

Insofar as the problem boils down to the criminalization of falsity, a fuzziness surfaces in First Amendment fundamentals.  The U.S. Supreme Court has long recited competing mantras on the permissibility of state regulation of falsity.  For example, commercial speech doctrine cuts a wide berth for the regulation of false and misleading expression, allowing free speech and consumer protection law to coexist upon the premise that falsity has no social value.  At the same time, First Amendment doctrine in areas such as defamation law, animated by the Miltonian-Millian philosophy of liberty, tells us that a free marketplace of ideas must allow for the expression of falsity so that truth can be tested and revealed.

The Court tackled this dichotomy in United States v. Alvarez in 2012, striking down part of the Stolen Valor Act of 2005, which criminalized misrepresentation of military honors.  But the Court fractured on rationale.  The plurality applied First Amendment strict scrutiny, and a concurrence would have applied intermediate scrutiny.  No one challenged the negligible scrutiny that abides criminalization of falsity in perjury, for example.  The distinction that upped the ante in Alvarez was the statute's "sweeping, quite unprecedented reach," regardless of context, regardless of motive.  Whereas a perjury prohibition plainly protects the integrity of the judicial process, the Stolen Valor Act pertained "to a false statement made at any time, in any place, to any person," for any reason.

And it was on that distinction that the Eighth Circuit perceived a difference in two provisions of the Iowa ag gag law.  One provision the court, affirming the district court, struck down, concerning the criminalization of false statements on an employment application.  The Iowa legislature, like Congress in Alvarez, overreached.

The proscription of the Employment Provision does not require that false statements made as part of an employment application be material to the employment decision.... [The statute] allows for prosecution of those who make false statements that are not capable of influencing an offer of employment. Plausible scenarios abound: the applicant falsely professes to maintain a wardrobe like the interviewer’s, exaggerates her exercise routine, or inflates his past attendance at the hometown football stadium.

The court reached a different conclusion on the provision prohibiting access to agricultural production facilities upon false pretenses.  That implication of falsity was sufficiently linked to "a legally cognizable harm—namely, trespass to private property"—that the court placed the provision beyond First Amendment review, distinguishing the ag gag law from the Stolen Valor Act.  "The better rule in light of Alvarez is that intentionally false speech undertaken to accomplish a legally cognizable harm may be proscribed without violating the First Amendment."

The opinion has a bit of candy for tortheads, too, in reasoning that even trespass warranting only nominal damages is "a legally cognizable harm."  "Trespass is an ancient cause of action that is long recognized in this country. See United States v. Jones [U.S. 2012]; 3 William Blackstone, Commentaries  ... ," the court began.

[The district] court’s own citation to Black’s Law Dictionary acknowledged that nominal damages are "awarded when a legal injury is suffered but there is no substantial loss or injury to be compensated." Damages, Black’s Law Dictionary (10th ed. 2014) (emphasis added). Nominal damages are not "purely symbolic, a mere judicial token that provides no actual benefit to the plaintiff." Uzuegbunam v. Preczewski [U.S. 2021]. They are, rather, damages paid to a plaintiff that provide redress for an injury. Id.... Even without physical damage to property arising from a trespass, these damages may compensate a property owner for a diminution of privacy and a violation of the right to exclude—legally cognizable harms. See ALDF v. Wasden ... (9th Cir. 2018) (Bea, J., dissenting in part and concurring in part); see also Cedar Point Nursery v. Hassid [U.S. 2021] ("The right to exclude is one of the most treasured rights of property ownership.")....

The complainant in the Iowa case is the Animal Legal Defense Fund (ALDF), which has litigated and is litigating ag gag challenges throughout the country.  (I'm faculty adviser for the Student Animal Legal Defense Fund at UMass Law.)

The first time I testified in a legislative hearing, in my first year of teaching in 1998, I spoke, at the invitation of the Society of Professional Journalists, against an Arkansas ag gag bill.  The bill died in committee.  In the 1990s, an earlier generation of ag gag laws targeted speech about Big Ag as a form of civil or criminal defamation.  That approach was especially vulnerable to First Amendment challenge.

Food Lion Kings Mountain, N.C.
(Mike Kalasnik CC BY-SA 2.0)

At the same time, in the 1990s, the Food Lion case against ABC News, over undercover reporting on food mishandling, was playing out in the courts.  By decade's end, Food Lion prevailed against the ABC defendants for trespass and breach of the employee duty of loyalty, but not for defamation or fraud.  Big Ag learned to reframe ag gag to focus on conduct, rather than speech.  The next generation of ag gag laws aimed to protect private property against trespass, feigning ignorance of First Amendment implications.

Presently, the ALDF is fighting a broad Arkansas ag gag law, in the property-protective vein, enacted in 2017.  On Monday, the day before the Iowa opinion was announced, the Eighth Circuit revived and remanded the ALDF suit in Arkansas.  The district court had dismissed upon an erroneous understanding of First Amendment standing.  The Arkansas law is a model of special interest legislation enacted at the behest of Big Ag power-player Vaught Farms.

The Eighth Circuit opinions in both the Iowa case and the Arkansas case were authored by Judge Steven Colloton, an Iowan.  Judge Colloton had different co-panelists in each case, and both panels generated a dissent.  In the Iowa case, Judge Raymond Gruender, a Missourian reportedly short-listed by President Trump for the Supreme Court, would have upheld the Iowa law in both provisions.  In the Arkansas case, Judge Bobby Shepherd, an Arkansan criticized for upholding Missouri anti-abortion laws to set up a challenge to Roe v. Wade, tracked the erroneous reasoning of the district court on standing.

I find worth quoting a short concurrence in the Iowa case.  Judge L. Steven Grasz, a Nebraskan, hints at the relationship between ag gag and the bigger First Amendment picture of our contemporary misinformation crisis.

This nation was founded on the concept of objective truth ("We hold these truths to be self-evident...."). And some of our nation's oldest institutions were founded as instrumentalities of the search for truth (Veritas). The quest for truth has not, of course, ended; nor has the clash between the free flow of ideas and the desire to punish untruthful speech that is perceived as harmful. The law has long provided for legal consequences for false speech constituting fraud, perjury, and defamation. The present case, however, presents a new category of deceit which the State of Iowa seeks to penalize. Some see it as investigative journalism. Others see it as lying to further an agenda at the expense of private property rights. In either sense, its punishment presents a legal dilemma between protecting property and protecting speech. While some have always questioned whether truth can be known ("What is truth?"), our task is not to answer that question but simply to determine whether the constitution allows the government to criminally punish falsity in the specific context of the statute before us.

I join the court's opinion in full because I believe it is consistent with current law, as best we can determine it from limited and sometimes hazy precedent. Still, I do so hesitantly as to the Access Provision. The court's opinion today represents the first time any circuit court has upheld such a provision. At a time in history when a cloud of censorship appears to be descending, along with palpable public fear of being "cancelled" for holding "incorrect" views, it concerns me to see a new category of speech which the government can punish through criminal prosecution. Ultimately, the Supreme Court will have to determine whether such laws can be sustained, or whether they infringe on the "breathing room" necessary to effectuate the promise of the First Amendment.

Going forward, a key question will be whether access-by-deceit statutes will be applied to punish speech that has instrumental value or which is tied to political or ideological messages....

In general, public interest constitutional litigation against state ag gag has fared very, very well in the courts.  So the Eighth Circuit distinction on the Iowa access provision bucks the trend, which is not to say the court was mistaken.  To my mind, most of the victories against ag gag, as in the Iowa case, have derived from legislative overreach.  As I told the Arkansas committee in 1998, it is possible to draft an "ag gag" bill that would pass constitutional muster.  But such a statute would substantially duplicate the existing tort law of trespass, fraud, and product disparagement.  And while common law tort accommodates constitutional norms by design, rigid statutes are more prone to invite expensive legal challenge in the application.

The real problem, politically for Big Ag, is that it wants more than tort law gives, or than constitutional law permits.  And for public interest advocates, the problem ultimately is one of policy, not constitutional law.  Legislators must be motivated to choose accountability over campaign donations, and the public must be motivated to care about labor conditions and animal welfare, even when opacity precludes investigation.

These cases also resonate in the vein of transparency and access in the private sector.  As I have written previously, contemporary social and economic woes increasingly arise from private-sector abuse of public trust, and our cramped notion of state action is critically diminishing democratic accountability.

The Iowa case is Animal Legal Defense Fund v. Reynolds, No. 19-1364 (8th Cir. Aug. 10, 2021).  The Arkansas case is Animal Legal Defense Fund v. Vaught, No. 20-1538 (8th Cir. Aug. 9, 2021).

UK court: Long arm of GDPR can't reach California*

Image my composite of Atlantic Ocean by Tentotwo CC BY-SA 3.0

and "hand reach" from Pixabay by ArtsyBee, licensed

*[UPDATE, Jan. 30, 2022:] On December 21, 2021, the Court of Appeal allowed service on U.S. defendants without ultimately resolving the GDPR territorial scope question.  Read more from Paul Kavanaugh, Dylan Balbirnie, and Madeleine White at Dechert LLP.]

A High Court ruling in England limited the long-arm reach of European (now British) privacy law in a suite of tort claims against Forensic News, a California-based web enterprise doing "modern investigative journalism."

The complainant is a security consultant investigated by Forensic News and a witness in the U.S. Senate Intelligence Committee probe into Russian interference in the 2016 U.S. elections.  A British national, he accused Forensic News of "malicious falsehood, libel, harassment and misuse of private information," the latter based on violation of the British enactment of the European General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR).

The extraterritorial reach of the GDPR has been a hot topic lately in privacy law circles, as U.S. companies struggle to comply simultaneously with foreign and burgeoning state privacy laws, such as the California Consumer Privacy Act (CCPA).  

Forensic News has no people or assets in the UK, but the complainant tried to ground GDPR application in the news organization's website, which accepts donations in, and sells merch for, pounds and euros.  No dice, said the court; it's journalism that links Forensic to the plaintiff and to the UK, not the mail-order side show.

The case is Soriano v. Forensic News LLC, [2021] EWHC 56 (QB) (Jan. 15, 2021).  Haim Ravia, Dotan Hammer, and Adi Shoval at Pearl Cohen have commentary.

SCOTUS 'Microsoft' privacy case likely moot, R+C blog reports

It looks like we won't get an answer from the U.S. Supreme Court in the Microsoft privacy case.  For the Data + Privacy Security Insider at Robinson + Cole, Kathleen Porter and Connor Duffy report that the Government and Microsoft agree that the case was mooted by the CLOUD Act, signed into law in March as part of omnibus spending legislation. 

The CLOUD Act gives the Government the authority to compel Microsoft to produce the sought-after data, whether stored at home or abroad, and the Government already has attained a warrant under the new law.  Microsoft's reported statement indicates that the company's position was exonerated insofar as it maintained that the legislature was the appropriate branch of government in which to resolve the matter.

I wrote about Microsoft and the pending Carpenter case for the winter 2017 newsletter of the Privacy, Cybersecurity & Digital Rights Committee of the ABA Section of International Law (published just last month, March 2018).