Digital rights defenders gather in Taipei to tackle mass surveillance, online propaganda, authoritarianism

Culled from my notes, here are some of the most interesting things I heard last week in Taipei at RightsCon, the world's leading summit on digital rights for technology, commercial, civil society, and government sectors.

A dragon towers over the 2025 Taiwan Lantern Festival in Taoyuan.
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

Chinese Surveillance Technology

China is methodical in suppressing conversation around the world about the repression of the Uyghur people, according to representatives of the World Uyghur Congress (WUC). Within days of her speaking at the Hudson Institute, WUC Chair Rushan Abbas said, her sister and aunt in China disappeared. Chinese officials sometimes approach venues hosting conferences that will discuss the Uyghurs and offer them double the price to cancel the conference contract, according to Haiyuer Kuerban, director of the WUC Berlin office. Now governments in England and Germany are keen to buy from Chinese firms such as Huawei the very tech that Chinese authorities use to surveil Uyghur activists and their families, Kuerban said, a perverse reward for the facilitation of human rights abuse.

Linjiang night market bustles in Taipei.
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

If you use a China-based media service such as WeChat even outside China, you might be helping the Chinese surveillance apparatus. Open Technology Fund Fellow Pellaeon Lin explained that censors scan files shared online and "fingerprint" them to tailor the blocking of sensitive content from recipients in China. Scanning and fingerprinting happens on Chinese tech even when when users share content wholly outside China. Chinese users, meanwhile, can't penetrate "the great firewall" as easily as in the past, Lin explained. Authorities can see when a VPN is used, if not the content, and that's reason enough to bring someone in for questioning. Tor is better than a VPN because it wraps and disguises internet traffic within innocent transmissions. But Lin warns, it's a game of cat and mouse; the censors are always refining their methods.

Undersea Infrastructure

Remember that all of these panels took place in Taiwan, so criticism of China carried a grave sort of resonance. While discussion of digital rights naturally suggests the metaphysics of cyberspace, the infrastructure of the infosphere exists very much in the real world. One fascinating panel of experts fretted over the vulnerability of the world's undersea cables. Recent outages, such as the cut cable in the Gulf of Finland at Christmas, concerningly exhibit indicia of human agency. Professor Yachi Chiang, of the National Taiwan Ocean University, said, to my surprise, that Taiwan is located at right about the world's highest-density crossroads of undersea traffic. She's right; you can see it at the Submarine Cable Map by TeleGeography:

Submarine Cable Map CC BY-SA 4.0

The security challenges of this network are massive. About 20% of damage results from natural forces, such as deterioration and shark bites, Chiang said; sharks like to bite cables. About 70% of damage is caused by people. A lot of that is inadvertent, anchoring by fishing vessels. But there's no easy way to determine whether there was a malicious act, much less a nation behind it. In the Christmas incident, Finnish officials have alleged a deliberate anchor drag by a Cook Islands-flagged vessel doing Russia's bidding, NPR reported in December.

Taiwan had five incidents already in 2025, Chiang said, with four domestic lines and one international line disrupted. In one incident, the Taiwan Coast Guard took a vessel into custody and detained the crew. That incident was suspicious, because the boat had irregular routing for fishing and inexplicably bore a changeable nameboard. But the capture was exceptional, only possible because the ship was in Taiwanese waters, Chiang explained. On the high seas, ships bear flags of convenience, and any claim against the vessel must be taken up with the flag nation. Those claims in distant and ill developed bureaucracies go nowhere. So some better coordinated legal response is needed to protect the undersea information infrastructure, Chiang concluded.

Authoritarianism in Africa

While the United States retreats to some amalgam of isolationism and opportunism, China is dominating the developing world technologically. China built more than 70% of the 4G network in Africa, Amnesty International's Sikula Oniala said, and now is working on 5G. Chinese-made TVs are flooding the market, Oniala said, but to work, they must be connected to the internet via their Chinese software, raising specters of surveillance and control.

Starlink deployment over
Rhode Island, February 2025.

RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

Authoritarian impulses in Africa are ever more complemented by Chinese technology and strategies. Governments control the gateways for internet access; last year, protests were met with internet shutdowns in Kenya, Mozambique, Tanzania, Mauritius and Equatorial Guinea, VOA reported. Amid the civil war in Sudan, both sides have used internet shutdowns strategically, cutting off information about unfriendly protests, permitting access when it undermines the enemy, and charging usurious rates for access to vital information, according to Hussam Mahjoub, co-founder of Sudan Bukra, an independent television channel.

While Starlink seems to promise liberation from government gateways, authorities in countries such as Sudan refuse to license the service and are pressuring the company to limit roaming access for accounts opened abroad, such as in neighboring Kenya, Mahjoub said. Worse, Tor Project Executive Director Isabela Fernandes warned, beware the gift bearer. The Bolsonaro regime in Brazil used Starlink data to track down and kill indigenous activists, she said.

Correspondingly, public access to information (ATI, freedom of information, or FOI) law is on the wane. In Kenya, Uganda, and Zimbabwe, mass surveillance is chilling human rights activism. And governments—even Kenya, the ATI law of which, on paper at least, I praised—are following Chinese examples in ATI law, Oniala said, reducing transparency purportedly in the name of national security.

Data Protection in Africa

Even with the best of intentions, African governments hardly can be expected to stand up to tech giants such as Meta, with turnovers that dwarf nations' GDPs, Open Technology Fund Fellow Tomiwa Ilori said. Speaking to African countries' efforts to establish meaningful enforcement of data protection laws, Ilori analogized: "You only get to kill snakes because they don't move together." In other words, African countries must coordinate their efforts. Franco Giandana Gigena, an Argentine lawyer and policy analyst for Access Now, described a similar dynamic in Latin American countries' inability to resist incentives from the U.S. government and American corporations to look the other way on data protection enforcement.

In the vein of collective action, the African Union Convention on Cyber Security and Personal Data Protection came into force in 2023, upon accession by Mauritania. However, the convention, adopted in 2014, already is dated. Ilori suggested it would benefit from optional protocols on extraterritorial application and stronger enforcement, and overall, African people need more education about their rights.

At that, there might be cultural impediments to EU-style data protection. Thobekile Matimbe, a senior project manager for the Nigeria-based Paradigm Initiative, said that the convention perspective on privacy, while inspired by the EU General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR), is more communitarian than individualist. Curiously, the African perspective, which prizes the integrity of the family, for example, over self-determination or the right to dissent, marks the same ground from which the human right of data protection emerged in the European tradition. The problem, Matimbe explained, is that authoritarians invoke the communitarian perspective to subordinate personal freedoms to the purported imperative of national security. That rationalization has seen surveillance deployed in Malawi, for one example, targeting human rights advocates, critics of government, and journalists, Matimbe said.

Disinformation Regulation

The classical dichotomy between true and false no longer works to balance free expression and disinformation regulation, according to Lutz Güllner, head of the European Economic and Trade Office in Taiwan. As Ukrainian journalist and Public Interest Journalism Lab CEO Nataliya Gumenyuk put it, debunking just isn't working anymore.

The problem, Güllner said, is that disinformation can have truth at its core, but the dis arises in the spin. That's why, he said, the EU's new Digital Services Act (DSA) aims not at content, but at manner of presentation: imposing on Big Tech a responsibility to police platforms for manipulative amplification of speech or suppression of others' speech (for example, planting an item of disinformation in a flood of mundane but accurate news). That isn't to say that the DSA strikes the right balance. Dionysia Peppa, a Greek lawyer and senior policy analyst for Beirut-based SMEX, said that the DSA rule on takedown of illegal content does not define "illegal," devolving authority to member states. In a time of right-leaning elections in Europe, states might disagree sharply over politically charged questions, such as when policy criticism of Israel becomes illegal hate speech.

In a similar vein, Liliana Vitu, chair of the Audiovisual Council of Moldova, talked about the challenges of combatting Russian propaganda in mass media. Banning "primitive propaganda" in "news" and talk shows was easy, she said. The devil lay in entertainment. For example, Russia-originating programs might consistently portray European characters as gay, effeminate, or weak, playing to stereotypes, she explained, while Russian characters appear masculine and strong.

Ukrainian journalists Nataliya Gumenyuk and Angelina Kariakina
talk about The Reckoning Project, which trains conflict journalists
in the preservation of evidence to prosecute war crimes.
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

As mere debunking doesn't work, Gumenyuk described research from The Reckoning Project seeking to figure out how journalists should combat disinformation. Viewers suffer from "compassion fatigue" at all the suffering in the world, she said. So when confronted with fact-based news accounts, such as the appearance of a drowned Syrian boy on a Bodrum beach, or the torture and murder of civilians in Bucha, Ukraine, viewers resisted and complained that journalists are out to manipulate them emotionally. The same viewers, though, proved receptive to people's firsthand accounts in documentaries. Gumenyuk described her astonishment at one study subject's testimony that he trusted the documentary more than the news because journalists were not telling the story. He seemed utterly unaware that the documentary form is a product of journalism and no more or less capable of conveying viewpoint than a news story.

The Reckoning Project, which Gumenyuk co-founded, occupies a compelling position at the junction of journalism and law. Gumenyuk said she tired of seeing reports collected by journalists excluded from war-crime investigations and prosecutions because the journalists did not understand rules of evidence. The Reckoning Project brings together journalists and lawyers to accomplish their complementary missions in seeking truth and justice. Gumenyuk gave as an example the questions a journalist might ask of a witness of atrocities, such as those committed by Russian forces against civilians in Bucha. Ordinarily, a journalist might ask, "How did the Russian soldiers kill this man?" But a leading question yields exclusion of the response as evidence in a legal proceeding. So journalists are trained to ask instead, "Tell me what happened that day."

Apropos of lawyering skills and picking up on the point that tech and its ill-intentioned users evolve faster than law and regulators, Armenian attorney and former head of the Armenian Data Protection Authority Gevorg Hayrapetyan played my tune when he told an audience:

One of the most important disciplines in law is philosophy of law, what law is and what it ought to be. One of the most important steps in developing human rights is recognizing the right.

Data protection, after all, was not a thing until someone thought of it. Maybe that's why it's not a thing in the United States. If we strip black-letter law of theory and policy and dumb down the American law school curriculum to comprise a glorified bar course and skills-training program, then we're headed in the right direction. Right? Asking for a friend.

Time to Save the World

Even were we all so inclined, is there time yet to save the world? Probably not. Law and regulation can't keep up, Güllner said, so the answer has to come from education, to develop people's sensory reflexes to detect disinformation. That will take a generation. "Ask my Ukrainian colleagues," he said. "We don't have that long."

Vitu described complex Moldovan legislation with multi-factor tests to determine whether disinformation conveys falsity and threatens national security. But that took years to develop with civil society stakeholders at the table to protect free expression; propaganda meanwhile grew yet more sophisticated. "Moscow never sleeps," she lamented. 

And Raša Nedeljkov, with the Serbian Center for Research, Transparency and Accountability, summed up the anxiety wracking the world:

A beacon of light for us was U.S. democracy. Now look what is happening.

Maybe that's the silver lining, journalist Tess Bacalla of the Asia Democracy Network suggested: The rest of the world, especially the European Union, will have to step up.

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.

Free torts textbook ready for academic year 2024-25

TORTZ: A Study of American Tort Law is complete and revised for the coming academic year 2024-25.

The two-volume textbook is posted for free download from SSRN (vol. 1, vol. 2), and available in hardcopy from Lulu.com at cost, about $30 per volume plus shipping.

• SSRN volume 1
• SSRN volume 2
• Lulu.com hardcopies

This final iteration of the book now, for the first time, includes its final three chapters: (16) interference and business torts, (17) government liability and civil rights, and (18) tort alternatives.

---

TORTZ TABLE OF CONTENTS

Volume 1

Chapter 1: Introduction

A. Welcome
B. The Fundamental Problem
C. Parameters
D. Etymology and Vocabulary
E. “The Pound Progression”
F. Alternatives
G. Review

Chapter 2: Intentional Torts

A. Introduction
B. Assault

1. History
2. The Restatement of Torts
3. Subjective and Objective Testing
4. Modern Rule
5. Transferred Intent
6. Statutory Torts and Harassment

C. Battery

1. Modern Rule
2. The Eggshell Plaintiff
3. Knowledge of a Substantially Certain Result
4. Common Law Evolution and Battered Woman Syndrome

D. False Imprisonment

1. Modern Rule
2. Problems

E. Intentional Infliction of Emotional Distress (IIED)

1. Dynamic Intent
2. Modern Rule
3. The “Heart Balm” Torts

F. Fraud

1. Fraud in Context
2. Modern Rule
3. Pleading Fraud
4. Exercise

G. The “Process” Torts

1. Innate Imprecision
2. Modern Rule
3. Majority Rejection of Malicious Civil Prosecution

H. “Prima Facie Tort”

1. Origin of Intentional Tort
2. Modern Rule

Chapter 3: Defenses to Intentional Torts 

A. Introduction
B. Defenses of Self, Other, and Property
C. The Spring Gun Case
D. Arrest Privilege and Merchant’s Privilege
E. Consent

1. Modern Rule
2. Scope of Consent
3. Medical Malpractice
4. Limits of Consent

F. Consent in Sport, or Recklessness

1. The Problem of Sport
2. Recklessness

Chapter 4: Negligence

A. Introduction
B. Modern Rule
C. Paradigmatic Cases
D. Historical and Theoretical Approaches to Negligence

1. Origin
2. Foreseeability
3. Custom
4. Augmented Standards
5. Economics

a. Introduction
b. “The Hand Formula”
c. Coase Theorem, Normativity, and Transaction Costs

6. Aristotelian Justice
7. Insurance and Loss-Spreading

E. Landowner Negligence, or Premises Liability

1. Theory of Duty and Standards of Breach
2. Common Law Tripartite Approach
3. Variations from the Unitary Approach in the Third Restatement
4. Applying the Framework, and Who Decides

F. Responsibility for Third-Party Conduct

1. Attenuated Causation, or “the Frances T.  Problem”: Negligence Liability in Creating Opportunity for a Criminal or Tortious Actor
2. Vicarious Liability and Attenuated Causation in the Employment Context: Respondeat Superior and “Direct” Negligence Theories

G. Statutory Torts and Negligence Per Se

1. Statutory Torts
2. Negligence Per Se

a. Introduction
b. Threshold Test
c. Three Mile Island

H. Medical Negligence
I. Spoliation of Evidence

1. Introduction
2. Minority Rule
3. Recognition or Non-Recognition of the Tort Approach
4. Majority Approach

J. Beyond Negligence

Chapter 5: Defenses to Negligence

A. Express Assumption of Risk (EAOR)
B. EAOR in Medical Negligence, and the Informed Consent Tort

1. Development of the Doctrine
2. The “Reasonable Patient” Standard
3. Modern Rule of Informed Consent
4. Causation in Informed Consent
5. Experimental Medicine

C. “Implied Assumption of Risk” (IAOR)

1. Everyday Life
2. Twentieth-Century Rule
3. Play and Sport
4. Work

D. Contributory Negligence

1. Twentieth-Century Rule
2. Complete Defense
3. Vitiation by “Last Clear Chance”

E. Comparative Fault
F. IAOR in the Age of Comparative Fault

1. The Demise of “IAOR”
2. Whither “Secondary Reasonable IAOR”?
3. Revisiting Mrs. Pursley at Gulfway General Hospital

G. Statutes of Limitations
H. Imputation of Negligence

Chapter 6: Subjective Standards

A. Introduction
B. Gender

1. The Reasonable Family
2. When Gender Matters

C. Youth

1. When Youth Matters
2. Attractive Nuisance
3. When Youth Doesn’t Matter

D. Mental Limitations

1. General Approach
2. Disputed Policy

Chapter 7: Strict Liability

A. Categorical Approach
B. Non-Natural Use of Land
C. Abnormally Dangerous Activities

1. Defining the Class
2. Modern Industry

D. Product Liability

1. Adoption of Strict Liability
2. Modern Norms
3. “Big Tobacco”
4. Frontiers of Product Liability

Chapter 8: Necessity

A. The Malleable Concept of Necessity
B. Necessity in Tort Law
C. Making Sense of Vincent
D. Necessity, the Liability Theory

Chapter 9: Damages

A. Introduction
B. Vocabulary of Damages
C. Theory of Damages
D. Calculation of Damages
E. Valuation of Intangibles
F. Remittitur
G. Wrongful Death and Survival Claims

1. Historical Common Law
2. Modern Statutory Framework

a. Lord Campbell’s Act and Wrongful Death
b. Survival of Action After Death of a Party

3. Problems of Application

H. “Wrongful Birth” and “Wrongful Life”
I. Punitive Damages

1. Introduction
2. Modern Rule
3. Pinpointing the Standard

J. Rethinking Death Compensation

Volume 2

Chapter 10: Res Ipsa Loquitur

A. Basic Rules of Proof
B. Res Ipsa Loquitur (RIL)

1. Modern Rule
2. Paradigmatic Fact Patterns

Chapter 11: Multiple Liabilities

A. Introduction
B. Alternative Liability
C. Joint and Ancillary Liability
D. Market-Share Liability Theory
E. Indemnification, Contribution, and Apportionment

1. Active-Passive Indemnity
2. Contribution and Apportionment
3. Apportionment and the Effect of Settlement

F. Rules and Evolving Models in Liability and Enforcement
G. Review and Application of Models

Chapter 12: Attenuated Duty and Causation

A. Introduction
B. Negligence Per Se Redux

1. The Problem in Duty
2. The Problem in Causation
3. The Problem in Public Policy

C. Duty Relationships and Causation Timelines

1. Introduction
2. Frances T. Redux, or Intervening Criminal Acts
3. Mental Illness and Tarasoff Liability
4. Dram Shop and Social Host Liability
5. Rescue Doctrine and “the Fire Fighter Rule”

a. Inverse Rules of Duty
b. Application and Limits

6. Palsgraf: The Orbit and the Stream

a. The Classic Case
b. A Deeper Dig

D. Principles of Duty and Causation

1. Duty
2. Causation

a. The Story of Causation
b. Proximate Cause in the Second Restatement
c. Scope of Liability in the Third Restatement
d. Proximate Cause in the Third Restatement, and Holdover Rules
e. A Study of Transition: Doull v. Foster

E. The Outer Bounds of Tort Law

1. Balancing the Fundamental Elements
2. Negligent Infliction of Emotional Distress (NIED)

a. Rule of No Liability
b. Bystanders and Borderline NIED

3. Economic Loss Rule

a. The Injury Requirement
b. Outer Limits of Tort Law
c. Loss in Product Liability and the Single Integrated Product Rule

Chapter 13: Affirmative Duty

A. Social Policy
B. The American Rule
C. Comparative Perspectives
D. Bystander Effect, or “Kitty Genovese Syndrome”

Chapter 14: Nuisance and Property Torts

A. Trespass and Conversion
B. Private Nuisance
C. Public Nuisance and the Distinction Between Private and Public
D. “Super Tort”

Chapter 15: Communication and Media Torts

A. Origin of “Media Torts”
B. Defamation

1. Framework and Rules
2. Defamation of Private Figures

a. Defamation Proof
b. Defamation Defense

3. Anti-SLAPP Defense
4. Section 230 Defense
5. Constitutional Defamation

a. Sea Change: New York Times Co. v. Sullivan
b. Extending Sullivan
c. Reconsidering Sullivan

C. Invasion of Privacy

1. Framework and Rules

a. Disclosure
b. Intrusion
c. False Light
d. Right of Publicity
e. Data Protection

2. Constitutional Privacy and False Light
3. Demonstrative Cases

a. Disclosure and Intrusion
b. Right of Publicity
c. Bollea v. Gawker Media

4. Data Protection, Common Law, and Evolving Recognition of Dignitary Harms

Chapter 16: Interference and Business Torts

A. Business Torts in General

1. Tort Taxonomy
2. The Broad Landscape
3. Civil RICO

B. Wrongful Termination
C. Tortious Interference

Chapter 17: Government Liability and Civil Rights

A. Sovereign Immunity

1. Federal Tort Claims Act (FTCA) and Foreign Sovereign Immunities Act (FSIA)
2. Text and History of the FTCA
3. Discretionary Function Immunity

B. Civil Rights

1. “Constitutional Tort”
2. Core Framework
3. Official Immunities
4. Climate Change

C. Qui Tam
D. Human Rights

1. Alien Tort Statute
2. Anti-Terrorism Laws

Chapter 18: Tort Alternatives

A. Worker Compensation

1. Introduction and History
2. Elements and Causation
3. Efficacy and Reform

B. Ad Hoc Compensation Funds

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.

UK anti-SLAPP bill takes fire

The United Kingdom has an anti-SLAPP bill on the table, and lawyer Gideon Benaim has cataloged objections.

In broad strokes, the bill follows the usual pattern of anti-SLAPP, looking for free speech and public interests on the part of the defendant, which then burdens the plaintiff with proving probable success on the merits out of the gate.

Benaim published his objections on the INFORRM blog, part 1 and part 2. Some of his objections track those that I articulated in 2021 as to American anti-SLAPP statutes. I lamented the unfairness of expecting a plaintiff to meet an extraordinary proof standard such as actual malice as to falsity without the benefit of discovery. The equivalent UK approach expects a plaintiff to overcome a bare public interest defense without the opportunity to probe the publisher's process or motives.

Benaim also points out, as I have, that anti-SLAPP is as likely to be invoked by the powerful against the weak as vice versa; Goliath media giant against aggrieved individual; or, as happened, President Trump against sexual assault complainant Stormy Daniels.

Benaim is a rarity, a plaintiff's lawyer in media torts. Not that everyday aggrieved individuals will be able to score a place on his client list, which includes JK Rowling, Naomi Campbell, Roman Polanski, and Gordon Ramsay.

At least in the United States, at least, the already daunting odds of prevailing in a media tort case against a publisher with expert defense counsel on retainer causes most would-be plaintiffs not to sue at all, no matter how just their causes. They can't find counsel and certainly can't navigate complex media torts pro se. And that's before anti-SLAPP comes into play, threatening a losing plaintiff with having to pay the attorney fees of the media giant's high-dollar representation.

As I've written before, anti-SLAPP works well when it works well. Statutes just aren't drafted to ensure that that's always the case. It looks like the UK is struggling with the same problem.

Naming rape suspects may draw criminal charges for journalists under Northern Ireland privacy law

Bernard Goldbach via Flickr CC BY 2.0

In Northern Ireland, it's a crime for a journalist to identify a rape suspect.

The relevant provision of the country's Justice (Sexual Offences and Trafficking Victims) Act 2022. Attorney Fergal McGoldrick of Carson McDowell in Belfast detailed the law for The International Forum for Responsible Media Blog in October 2023, just after the law took effect.

The law applies to a range of sexual offenses including rape. The prohibition expires upon an arrest warrant, criminal charge, or indictment. If prosecution does not expire the prohibition on identification, it remains in force until 25 years after the death of the suspect. The act amended preexisting privacy law to afford comparable anonymity to victims.

I have deep experience with this issue, and it is fraught. Despite my strong preference for transparency in government, especially in policing, the law has merit.

I was a university newspaper editor back in ye olden days of paper and ink. My newspaper reported vigorously on accusations of sexual assault against a student at our university by a student at a nearby university. The accusations and ensuing criminal investigation gripped the campus.

We learned the identity of both suspect and accuser. We reported the former and concealed the latter. Discussing the matter as an editorial board, we were uncomfortable with this disparity. Having the suspect be a member of our own community and the accuser an outsider amplified our sensitivity to a seeming inequity. We did take measures to minimize use of the suspect's name in the reporting.

These were the journalistic norms of our time. Naming the accuser was unthinkable. This was the era of "the blue dot woman," later identified as Patricia Bowman (e.g., Seattle Times). The nation was enthralled by her allegation of rape against American royalty, William Kennedy Smith. In the 1991 televised trial, Bowman, a witness in court, was clumsily concealed by a floating blue dot, the anonymizing technology of the time.

Smith was acquitted. The case was a blockbuster not only for TV news, but for journalism, raising a goldmine of legal and ethical issues around criminal justice reporting and cameras in the courtroom.

There was no anonymity for Smith. I went to a Society of Professional Journalists (SPJ) conference around this time, and the issues were discussed in a huge plenary session in a ballroom. The crowd exuded self-loathing for the trauma journalism itself had piled on Bowman. Objectivity be damned, many speakers beat the drums for the pillorying of the acquitted Smith.

The calculation in journalism ethics with regard to Smith, and thus to my editorial board, was that police accountability, knowing whom is being investigated, charged, or detained, and public security, alerting the public to a possible threat, or eliciting from the public exonerating evidence, all outweighed the risk of reputational harm that reporting might cause to the accused. Moreover, ethicists of the time reasoned, it would be paternalistic to assume that the public doesn't understand the difference between a person accused and a person convicted.

Then, in my campus case, the grand jury refused to indict. Our reporting uncovered evidence that the accusation might have been exaggerated or fabricated.

Our editorial hearts sank. Had we protected the wrong person?

My co-editor and I discussed the case countless times in the years that followed. We agonized. It pains me still today. Thirty years later, I find myself still retracing the problem, second-guessing my choices. It's like a choose-your-own-adventure where you feel like you're making the right choice each time you turn the pages, yet your steps lead you inevitably to doom.

Idealistically committed as we were at that age to freedom-of-information absolutism, we were inclined to the anti-paternalistic argument and reasoned that probably we should have named everyone from the start and let the public sort it out.

In our defense, a prior and more absolutist generation of norms in journalism ethics prevailed at the time. I was there at SPJ in the following years as leading scholars worked out a new set of norms, still around today, that accepts the reality of competing priorities and evinces more flexible guidance, such as, "minimize harm." Absolutism yielded to nuance. Meanwhile, the internet became a part of our lives, and both publication and privacy were revolutionized.

So in our present age, maybe the better rule is the Northern Ireland rule: anonymize both sides from the start. 

I recognize that there is a difference in a free society between an ethical norm, by which persons decide not to publish, and a legal norm, which institutes a prior restraint. I do find the Northern Ireland rule troublesomely draconian. The law would run headlong into the First Amendment in the United States. Certainly, I am not prepared to lend my support to the imprisonment of journalists.

Yet the problem with the leave-it-to-ethics approach is that we no longer live in a world in which mass media equate to responsible journalism. From where we sit in the internet era, immersed in the streaming media of our echo chambers, the SPJ Code of Ethics looks ever more a relic hallowed by a moribund belief system.

In Europe, the sophisticated privacy-protective regime of the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) is more supportive than the U.S. First Amendment of the Northern Ireland approach. The UK continues to adhere to the GDPR regime since Brexit. The GDPR reflects the recognition in European law of privacy and data protection as human rights, to be held in balance with the freedoms of speech and press. Precisely this balance was at issue in 2022, in Bloomberg LP v. ZXC, in which the UK Supreme Court concluded that Bloomberg media were obligated to consider a suspect's privacy rights before publishing even an official record naming him in a criminal investigation.

McGoldrick wrote "that since Bloomberg most media organisations have, save in exceptional circumstances, elected not to identify suspects pre-charge, thus affording editors the discretion to identify a suspect, if such identification is in the public interest."

Maybe the world isn't the worse for it.

Consumers turn tables against corporate defense in compelled arbitration of information privacy claims

Image via www.vpnsrus.com by Mike MacKenzie CC BY 2.0

Consumer plaintiffs turned the usual tables on corporate defense in the fall when a federal court in Illinois ordered Samsung Electronics to pay millions of dollars in arbitration fees in a biometric privacy case.

In the underlying arbitration demand, 50,000 users of Samsung mobile devices accuse the company of violating the Illinois Biometric Information Privacy Act (BIPA). BIPA is a tough state privacy law that has made trans-Atlantic waves as it fills the gap of Congress's refusal to regulate the American Wild West of consumer privacy.

Typically of American service providers, Samsung endeavored to protect itself from tort liability through terms and conditions that divert claims from the courts to arbitration. The (private) U.S. Chamber of Commerce champions the strategy. Arbitration is reliably defense-friendly. Rumor has it that arbitrators who don't see cases corporations' way don't have long careers. And companies bask in the secrecy that shields them from public accountability. (Read more.)

Resistance to compelled arbitration has been a rallying cause of consumer advocates and the plaintiff bar. For the most part, resistance has been futile. But consumer plaintiffs appear to have a new strategy. The Chamber is not happy.

In the instant case, consumers alleging BIPA violation were aiming for arbitration. Arbitration rules, endorsed by Samsung's terms, require both sides to pay toward initial filing fees, a sum that adds up when 50,000 claims are in play. The consumers' attorneys fronted their share, but Samsung refused. The company weakly asserted that it was being scammed, because some of the claimants were deceased or not Illinois residents, both BIPA disqualifiers.

Samsung must pay its share of arbitration filing fees for living Illinois residents, the district court answered, at least those living in the court's jurisdiction. Many of those consumer claimants were identified with Samsung's own customer records. A few whom Samsung challenged, the claimants dropped from their number. Even when the court pared the list to consumers in Illinois's federal Northern District, roughly 35,000 were still standing.

"Alas, Samsung was hoist with its own petard," the court wrote, quoting Shakespeare. The court opined:

Samsung was surely thinking about money when it wrote its Terms & Conditions. The company may not have expected so many would seek arbitration against it, but neither should it be allowed to “blanch[] at the cost of the filing fees it agreed to pay in the arbitration clause.” Abernathy v. Doordash, Inc., 438 F.Supp. 3d 1062, 1068 (N.D. Cal. 2020) (describing the company’s refusal to pay fees associated with its own-drafted arbitration clause as “hypocrisy” and “irony upon irony”).

The American Arbitration Association, the entity with which the claimants filed pursuant to Samsung's terms, estimated Samsung's tab at $4.125 million when the number was still 50,000 claims.

Attorneys Gerald L. Maatman, Jr., Rebecca S. Bjork, and Derek Franklin for corporate defense firm DuaneMorris warned:

As corporations who employ large numbers of individuals in their workforces know, agreements to arbitrate claims related to employment-related disputes are common. They serve the important strategic function of minimizing class action litigation risks. But corporate counsel also are aware that increasingly, plaintiffs’ attorneys have come to understand that arbitration agreements can be used to create leverage points for their clients. Mass arbitrations seek to put pressure on respondents to settle claims on behalf of large numbers of people, even though not via the procedural vehicle of filing a class or collective action lawsuit. As a result, corporate counsel should carefully review arbitration agreement language with an eye towards mitigating the risks of mass arbitrations as well as class actions.

Samsung wasted no time appealing to the Seventh Circuit. The case has drawn a spate of amici with dueling briefs from the Chamber and associates, favoring Samsung, and from Public Justice, et al., favoring the consumer claimants.

The district court case is Wallrich v. Samsung Electronics America, Inc. (N.D. Ill. Sept. 12, 2023), opinion by Senior U.S. District Judge Harry D. Leinenweber. The appeal is Wallrich v. Samsung Electronics America, Inc. (7th Cir. filed Sept. 25, 2023).