In negligence claims over child welfare, bus fight, Mass. high court opines on qualified, sovereign immunity

Two immunity cases ended with different outcomes for public officials in the Massachusetts high court on two successive Fridays, and the cases illustrate different theories of immunity.

In a case decided on March 21, social workers with the Massachusetts Department of Children and Families (DCF) asserted qualified immunity in the death and severe injury of two children, each about two years old. The Supreme Judicial Court (SJC) considered the immunity analysis but decided ultimately that, immunity notwithstanding, the workers had not legally caused the harm the children suffered.

In a case decided March 14, the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority (MBTA) asserted sovereign immunity in the serious injury of a passenger who was beaten by a bus driver with known anger management issues. The SJC decided that the state agency was not entitled to sovereign immunity as codified by a provision protecting the state from liability for the acts of third parties.

Mass. DCF Worcester West Area Office
From Mass. DCF, purported © 2025
Commonwealth of Massachusetts, asserted fair use.

Qualified Immunity 

However much the state defendants prevailed in the first case, the court's recitation of the facts reveals a deeply disturbing record of irresponsibility on the part of DCF. A woman with four foster children was correctly suspected of having a live-in boyfriend with a record of an open armed robbery charge, three assault and battery charges, and multiple restraining orders. That would be prohibitive of foster placements were the facts confirmed, so DCF planned to monitor the home closely. For unknown reasons, officials dropped the ball, and inspections were too few and too infrequent.

The horrifying 2015 accident that took the life of one child and severely injured another occurred overnight when one of the children reached for "and adjusted the thermostat on an electric heater, which was on the wall above the crib, causing the children's room to overheat," the court wrote. Another child in the room died, and the child who manipulated the thermostat "was found to be in critical condition, suffering from respiratory failure, seizures, hyperthermia (a high temperature), and hypotension (low blood pressure)." The foster parent called 911, and the critically injured child was taken to the hospital. She survived but remains impaired, and her representatives were the plaintiffs in the instant case.

In a civil rights action under federal law, 42 U.S.C. § 1983, DCF officials claimed qualified immunity. The court coherently explained how the doctrine works generally and in this context:

Government officials are entitled to qualified immunity from § 1983 claims for damages if "their conduct does not violate clearly established statutory or constitutional rights of which a reasonable person would have known...." Littles v. Commissioner of Correction [Mass. 2005]. The determination of qualified immunity follows a two-part test:

"The first prong asks whether the facts alleged or shown by the plaintiff make out a violation of a constitutional right; the second prong asks whether that right was clearly established at the time of the defendant's alleged violation. [T]he second step, in turn, has two aspects. One aspect of the analysis focuses on the clarity of the law .... The other aspect focuses more concretely on the facts of the particular case and whether a reasonable defendant would have understood that his conduct violated the plaintiffs' constitutional rights" .... Penate v. Sullivan ... (1st Cir. 2023)....

Under the first prong, "'substantive due process' prevents the government from engaging in conduct that 'shocks the conscience'" .... United States v. Salerno [U.S. 1987]. In the foster care context, courts apply one of two standards to determine whether government conduct is conscience-shocking. The first ... is the "deliberate indifference" standard.... Under this standard, a plaintiff must show that a government actor "exhibited deliberate indifference to a known injury, a known risk, or a specific duty." ....

Alternatively, under the second standard, ... a plaintiff must show that a State actor's professional decision constitutes such a "substantial departure from accepted professional judgment, practice, or standards" that the decision was not actually based on such judgment.

The court did not resolve the difference between the two standards, however, because the case was resolved on a different basis. Notwithstanding qualified immunity, a plaintiff in a civil rights case, just like in a state tort case, must prove proximate, or legal causation, and the plaintiffs here could not.

DCF misconduct might have been a scientific cause of the accident. However, the reason DCF was investigating the foster care home was the suspected presence of man, a co-caretaker, with a problematic criminal record. Scientific causation might be proved if the plaintiff could prove that proper DCF investigation would have resulted in the removal of the man from the home. But that flub did not legally cause the accident, the court opined, because the accessibility of the thermostat to the crib and the child's consequent tampering with it had nothing to do with the presence of the man in the home.

The conclusion is sound, though it leaves one to wonder whether there yet has been any reckoning at DCF, or among public officials and legislators if under-resourcing is to blame.

It would not have made any difference here, but, collaterally, it's worth noting that the very existence of qualified immunity as a defense to civil rights actions has been an issue in play in recent years. I explained in 2 Tortz: A Study of American Tort Law (Lulu 2024 rev. ed.):

Of unlikely constitutional compulsion, qualified immunity has come into question in recent years, especially amid high-profile incidents of police violence. Some states and localities have adopted statutes and ordinances limiting or eliminating qualified immunity for police. At the federal level, U.S. Supreme Court Justices Clarence Thomas and Sonia Sotomayor both have criticized qualified immunity. Justice Thomas criticized qualified immunity as unsupported by the text of the Constitution or statute, and Justice Sotomayor criticized the doctrine for failing to punish official misconduct. See N.S. v. Kansas City (U.S. 2023) (Sotomayor, J., dissenting from denial of certiorari); Hoggard v. Rhodes (U.S. 2021) (Thomas, J., respecting denial of certiorari); James v. Bartelt (U.S. 2021) (Sotomayor, J., dissenting from denial of certiorari); Baxter v. Bracey (U.S. 2020) (Thomas, J., dissenting from denial of certiorari). Nevertheless, thus far, the Court has upheld the doctrine. Since the murder of George Floyd by a police officer in Minneapolis in 2020, U.S. Rep. Ayanna Pressley (D-Mass.) and U.S. Sen. Ed Markey (D-Mass.) have persistently but unsuccessfully championed bills to abolish qualified immunity in § 1983 actions.

The first case is Gotay v. Creen (Mass. Mar. 21, 2025) (FindLaw). Justice Serge Georges, Jr. authored the unanimous opinion of six justices.

MBTA bus
Mass. Office of Travel & Tourism via Flickr CC BY-ND 2.0

Sovereign Immunity

A different theory of immunity, state sovereign immunity, animated the case decided a week earlier.

At issue in this second case was the puzzling and unique section 10(j) of the Massachusetts Tort Claims Act (MTCA), which attracts more than its fair share of MTCA appellate litigation in the commonwealth. The case arose from an assault on a passenger by an MBTA bus driver with anger management issues.

Relying on facts as favorable to the plaintiff, the court retold the story of the part-time driver who "sometimes engaged in unsafe driving and, on occasion, interacted with the public and his supervisors in a hostile or insubordinate manner," yet after three years was promoted to full time. The court recounted subsequent altercations with a passenger described as "unruly" and then with a police officer in a disagreement over road obstruction.

The instant case arose when a passenger pursued the bus, rapping on doors, trying to get information about routes. Further recounting the plaintiff's facts, the court wrote:

Lost, cold, and frustrated at the prospect of being stranded, [plaintiff] first questioned why the bus driver had not stopped sooner. The driver responded by yelling at [plaintiff] and leaving his driver's seat to confront [plaintiff] at the door. The driver kicked snow from the bottom of the bus at [plaintiff]. [Plaintiff] uttered a profanity. This further triggered the bus driver's anger; as the driver subsequently described it, he just "lost it." Enraged, the driver lunged at [plaintiff], escalating the encounter. For his part, [plaintiff] retreated, but the driver gave chase. When the driver caught up, the driver commenced punching and kicking [plaintiff]. The beating was so severe that [plaintiff] suffered a traumatic brain injury that has left him "permanently and totally disabled from his usual employment."

The plaintiff sued the MBTA for negligence in hiring, promotion, retention, and supervision. The defendant asserted sovereign immunity as codified in the MTCA.

MTCA section 10(j) is Massachusetts's effort to find the fine line between a tort claim that properly blames public officials for tortious misbehavior and a failure-to-protect claim, when public officials are not responsible for the actions of private third parties. Finding this line is a well known problem in tort claims, federal and state. The Massachusetts test has its own peculiar language, which, the abundance of case law suggests, is not necessarily clarifying. The court here quoted its own earlier assessment that the provision "presents an interpretive quagmire."

Section 10(j) holds public officials immune from "any claim based on an act or failure to act to prevent or diminish the harmful consequences of a condition or situation, including the violent or tortious conduct of a third person, which is not originally caused by the public employer or any other person acting on behalf of the public employer."

The test is especially hairy in cases such as this one, when the alleged negligence is on the part of the state as employer, thus one step removed from the misconduct of a state employee. When does negligence on the part of the state employer constitute the "affirmative act" required to circumnavigate 10(j)?

Here, the court decided:

The claims at issue here are based on the MBTA's own failure to exercise reasonable care in its supervision of the bus driver; as we have explained, "where the supervisory officials allegedly had, or should have had, knowledge of a public employee's assaultive behavior, it is the supervisors' conduct, rather than the employee's intentional conduct, that is the true focus of the case." Dobos v. Driscoll ... [Mass. 1989] (affirming judgment against Commonwealth for negligent supervision and training of officer who assaulted civilian)[; s]ee Doe v. Blandford ... [Mass. 1988] (MTCA permitted claims regarding public employer's negligent conduct in hiring, retaining, and supervising guidance counselor who assaulted student independent of alleged vicarious liability for intentional tort of public employee)....

In sum, [section] 10 (j) does not provide immunity to a public employer for its misfeasance in placing an employee with known but untreated anger management issues that manifest in violent and hostile behaviors in a public-facing position. The record on summary judgment here would support a fact finder's reasonable conclusion that the MBTA's affirmative act—its own decision, through its public employees responsible for supervising the bus driver, to schedule the driver to operate the bus route in Lynn, [Mass.,] without training him to manage his anger—originally caused [plaintiff]'s harm.

The decision feels right as measured against the legislature's determination to distinguish truly third-party causes, that is, risks initiated outside the scope of state responsibility, from causes inextricably tied to state responsibility, such as a state employer's responsibility in direct negligence for its agent's misconduct. And I do think this concept of scope of responsibility, or common duty in the parlance of multiple liabilities, can be used to delineate a workable understanding of "not originally caused."

At the same time, I am not persuaded by the court's reasoning that 10(j) jurisprudence has yet drawn a line much more clear than "I know it when I see it."

The second case is Theisz v. MBTA (Mass. Mar. 14, 2025) (Justia). New Orleans-born Justice Dalila Argaez Wendlandt authored the unanimous opinion of four justices, affirming the Appeals Court.

'American Dream' is still achievable in hot-dog form

My Thanksgiving featured craft beer with some ace Polish law students.

Last week I had the privilege to teach American tort law to a class of Polish law students at Jagiellonian University in Kraków, for the American Law Program of the Columbus School of Law at the Catholic University of America, as I have for many years. Catholic and JU have a summer program in Poland for American law students, too. 

Thursday night I took the students to my favorite craft beer pub in Kraków, Multi Qlti Tap Bar. The beers always are top notch. I had a fruited gose, as well as a hazy IPA called "tank killer," or something like that that seemed appropriate to the times in central Europe.

Multi Qlti has good food, too, hot dogs and fries, with different preparations named after different places. For this Thanksgiving, I thought I'd share the description of the Massachusetts dog, subtitled "American Dream": "Cheese & Bacon Burger in the form of a dog? This is how we broaden our horizons: smoked frankfurter from the grill, crispy bacon, cheddar, honey, cucumber, lettuce, red onion, and BBQ and hamburger sauce."😋

Now that's a positive American food influence. Walking in Kraków, I saw the dark side of American food influence, too. A place called "Mr. Pancake" advertised the "American Pie-Cake." 🤢

Don't worry Poland; I'm sure appetite-suppressing injections are on their way next.

Images: "Massachusetts" from Restaurant Guru, translation by Google; "American Pie-Cake" by RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0, no claim to underlying works.

Hospital's radiology contractor must answer negligence claim over patient death, per third-party doctrine

Saint Vincent Hospital, Worcester, Mass.
Terageorge~commonswiki via Wikimedia Commons CC BY-SA 4.0

A hospital's radiology contractor may be on the hook for failure to provide emergency medical treatment to a patient who died, the Massachusetts Appeals Court ruled last week.

The decision offers a solid analysis of third-party beneficiary doctrine in tort law. Under the doctrine, a duty in common law tort can arise from a contract that benefits a third party. So if B and C contract for the protection of A, an injured A may sue C for for its failure under the contract, even though C had no contract with A and would not otherwise have owed any common law duty to A.

In the instant case, Saint Vincent Hospital (SVH) in Worcester, Massachusetts, had contracted with Saint Vincent Radiological Associates, Inc., (SVRA) for radiology services for SVH patients. The plaintiff-decedent was an SVH patient suffering from an acute gallbladder infection requiring an emergency procedure. SVH did not have staff to do the procedure and transferred the patient to another hospital. The patient died before the procedure could be completed. 

The plaintiff-representative discovered later that an SRVA physician on call for SVH was able to do the procedure. The representative sued SVH and SVRA. The representative settled with SVH, but the representative's negligence claim against SVRA was dismissed for want of duty.

The trial court erred, the Appeals Court decided. Ordinarily, an SVRA doctor might have owed no duty to an SVH patient, any more than any doctor who was a stranger to the patient. However, SVRA had contracted with SVH for the benefit of third parties, namely, patients, such as the decedent. The plaintiff therefore could pursue a negligence claim against SVRA, the Appeals Court agreed, remanding and reinstating the claim.

There remains a question of fact in the case, which might have confused the issue in the trial court, over whether the SVH-SVRA contract provided for SVRA doctors to do emergency procedures, if needed, more than mere radiology consultations. If the scope of the contract was so limited, then there is no basis in the contract for the duty to perform the procedure that could have saved the patient's life. The parties had settled contract claims in the case below, so the courts never had occasion to opine on the scope of the contract.

Another question that will have to be resolved on remand, if the case is tried, is whether the defendant was negligent, that is, breached the standard of care. Even breach of contractual obligation, if that were the case, is not negligence per se under the third-party beneficiary doctrine.

In working out its conclusion, the Appeals Court noted an important additional feature of the doctrine, which is that a contract can only support a duty familiar to common law, assuming there were a social-contractual link between A and C. If a contract imposes some exotic obligation, then the only remedy for breach arises between the contracting parties, B and C, in contract law. Here, though, this requirement is not an impediment. C is a doctor, and A is a patient. The duty relationship is easily recognizable once the contract bridges the social gap.

The case is Brown v. Saint Vincent Radiological Associates, Inc., No. 23-P-771 (Oct. 24, 2024). Justice Gregory I. Massing wrote the opinion of the unanimous panel, which also comprised Justices Shin and D'Angelo.

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.

Trademark feud centers on unsolved double murder

Lizzie Borden House, left; Miss Lizzie's Coffee, right.

A museum and a coffee shop are locked in trademark litigation over the name of an heiress accused of an infamous double murder. (All photos by RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0.)

Last year, Williamsburg, Va.-based US Ghost Adventures, owner-operator of the Lizzie Borden House and Museum in Fall River, Mass., sued Miss Lizzie's Coffee and its owner-operator, Joseph M. Pereira. The coffee shop opened in a house next door to the museum on Second Street in Fall River. US Ghost Adventures accused Miss Lizzie's of infringing on its trademark in "Lizzie Borden" and profiting from consumer confusion over the coffee shop's ownership.

In October, the federal district court, per Judge Leo T. Sorokin, denied the plaintiff a preliminary injunction. US Ghost Adventures appealed, and the matter is now pending in the First Circuit.

In 1892, Lizzie Borden was tried and acquitted of the axe murders of her father and stepmother. The brutality of the killings and the gender of the accused summed a blockbuster news event in the 1890s—not coincidentally, the pyrite age of yellow journalism—and the public followed the criminal trial breathlessly. No one ever was convicted of the crime, and Borden lived the remainder of her life under a cloud in Fall River social circles. The case has been a font of endless speculation in the popular culture, inspiring books, articles, films, TV shows, video games, songs, and nursery rhymes.

Lizzie Borden House and Museum

Opened to the public in 1996, the Lizzie Borden House and Museum, where the murders occurred and Lizzie lived at the time, features artifacts from the Bordens' life and the crime. The bed-and-breakfast part of the business capitalizes on the reputation of the property as haunted.

In August 2023, Pereira opened the coffee shop in a house adjacent to the Borden House. There is no confusion about what "Miss Lizzie's" refers to. The shop features images of Lizzie, boasts an overall theme of bloody death, and sells small souvenirs related to the Lizzie Borden story. US Ghost Adventures sued in September 2023.

"Hatchet blade" mark
registered to US Ghost Adventures
USPTO

While there is no confusion over the fact that both businesses aim to profit off the Lizzie Borden story, that overlap in itself does not constitute a trademark infringement. The defendants argued in federal district court, and the court agreed, that Lizzie Borden's name and image, and the story of the Borden murders are in the public domain. Trademark specifically protects only the brand name of the Lizzie Borden House and Museum as a hospitality service provider.

(UPDATE, Aug. 7: US Ghost Adventures has registered marks in "Lizzie Borden" and in its hatchet-blade graphic (pictured) for "hotel and restaurant services," which, I admit, comes closer to a coffee shop than mere hospitality. I would still draw the line. US Ghost Adventures also has registered "Lizzie Borden Museum" for "museum services" and the hatchet-blade image for key chains, jewelry, mugs, golf balls, hats, shirts, etc. Search "Lizzie Borden" at the USPTO for full details. HT@ Prof. Anoo Vyas.)

The trademark test for "consumer confusion" about who is the service provider presents, essentially, a frame-of-reference problem. US Ghost Adventures says that its trademark precludes another hospitality service provider from using the Lizzie Borden name, or anything confusingly similar thereto, and a coffee shop is a hospitality business. The defendants argued, and the court agreed, that a coffee shop is a sufficiently different enterprise from a bed and breakfast as not to induce consumer confusion.

Miss Lizzie's Coffee

It's not that a coffee shop could not infringe the trademark, but that this one has not, the trial court concluded. The plaintiff tried to tighten the connection between the two businesses by pointing to their proximate location and their common uses of hatchets in signs and promotional images. The court found neither proffer convincing. It makes sense to locate any Borden-themed business near the scene of the crime, and the hatchet images the businesses use are different. Lest there be any lingering doubt in a customer's mind, the coffee shop put up a sign avowing its non-association.

(There is some dispute as well about the difference between a hatchet and an axe, which was used in the murder, and which is depicted where. I don't have the bandwidth to, uh, chop through that thicket.)

Notwithstanding the plaintiff's appeal, I think the trial court got it right. Judge Sorokin convincingly suggested by way of example that trademark law does not preclude a business from using the historical name of Sam Adams, as long as the business isn't a brew works. In the same vein, in any close case, I prefer to see trademark law construed as not at cross-purposes with economic development, which Fall River can use. More touristic business floats all boats.

As the appeal unfolds in the First Circuit, an unfortunate and layered backstory is coming to light. For reasons unstated in the record—one might fairly speculate the burden of attorney fees—Pereira discharged his two lawyers, who withdrew from the case in April 2024. In July 2024, Pereira responded pro se to the appellant-plaintiff's brief. 

US Ghost Adventures was able to sue both Pereira and Miss Lizzie's because, according to the allegations, Periera opened the shop about a month before his business registration was formalized. The plaintiff therefore demanded that Pereira personally disgorge ill-gotten profits from that first month.

The problem now on appeal is that a corporation cannot be represented pro se, and Pereira is not an attorney. So his responsive brief, already shaky on legal formalities, cannot represent the position of Miss Lizzie's. The court accordingly ordered that Miss Lizzie's would not be permitted to argue on appeal. In an August 1 reply, the plaintiff then asked the court to decline oral argument entirely, as Pereira inevitably would argue Miss Lizzie's position in violation of the court's order. 

As I said, I think the plaintiff is wrong on the merits, so the First Circuit should affirm. And that would be the safe bet in ordinary circumstances.

But the plaintiff's reply fairly faults Pereira for thin legal arguments in the pro se brief. That puts the appellate court in an awkward position. Even if the plaintiff bears the burden of persuasion on appeal, the First Circuit is looking at a record short on effective counterargument. 

Considering the preliminary disposition of the proceeding in the trial court, the appellate court might err on the side of reversing and remanding, to develop a fuller trial record. The defendants' pro se bind will persist, though, and would threaten an outcome dictated by access to counsel rather than the case on the merits.

There's a deeper layer yet. It happens that Pereira has a troubled history with the law. According to The Standard-Times, in 1996, he "pleaded guilty to stealing more than $119,000 from 15 people after posing as a lawyer and mortgage broker." Appearing as an attorney in a 1993 housing matter, Pereira "was so good, witnesses say, that ... he stood up to a judge, a clerk and another attorney without even raising an eyebrow," The Standard-Times reported in 1995. A veteran attorney said that "he never suspected a thing," and that Pereira "was very polite and seemed pretty knowledgeable about the lead-paint law."

Pereira's record did not improve subsequently. In 2010, he was sentenced to three to five years' imprisonment after "he pleaded guilty to 13 counts of larceny, one count of practicing law without a license and one count of committing that offense after being convicted of the crime in 1996," Wicked Local reported in 2012. As The Herald News put it upon an arrest in 2019: "Since 1982, Pereira has been arraigned approximately three-dozen times on larceny-related charges. His most recent arrest added another 17 larceny charges to his record." He did beat some charges.

To Pereira's credit, I did not think his response in the First Circuit was as devoid of reasoning as US Ghost Adventures alleged. Albeit in improper form, the appellee's brief more or less rehashed the core arguments in the case. If in proper form, that's what the appellant's brief did, too.

Certainly Pereira's criminal history should have no bearing on the trademark case. The case also, ideally, should not be decided based on either party's access to counsel, though such immateriality of resources is not the way of the American legal system, especially on the civil side.

Whatever comes to pass procedurally, I stand by my assessment of the merits. On Friday morning, I picked up a cup of coffee at Miss Lizzie's.

The appellate case is US Ghost Adventures, LLC v. Miss Lizzie's Coffee LLC, No. 23-2000 (1st Cir. filed Nov. 27, 2023). The case in the trial court is US Ghost Adventures, LLC v. Miss Lizzie's Coffee LLC, No. 1:23-cv-12116-LTS (D. Mass. Oct. 27, 2023) (CourtListener).

Wood wins Rappaport Fellowship

Rebecca Wood
BC Law

Rebecca Wood, a survivor of my 1L torts classes, has won a prestigious Rappaport Fellowship in law and public policy.

Wood became active in politics after the premature birth of her daughter raised urgent questions for her family about the inadequacies of insurance and healthcare in America. Check out her story as told while working on Medicare-for-all legislation with Bernie Sanders in 2017. She testified movingly before the U.S. House of Representatives Ways and Means Committee in 2019. 

Wood enrolled in law school as a Public Interest Fellow to attain a law degree that will arm her for public policy work. She was a pleasure to have in class, because she is insightful and sensitive to the powerful public policy implications of tort law. She will be a formidable force for good, and I'm privileged to be a part of her education.

At Boston College, "[t]he Rappaport Fellows Program in Law and Public Policy provides gifted students committed to public policy careers with opportunities to experience the complexities and rewards of public policy and public service within the highest levels of state and municipal governments." Wood spent the summer as an intern at the Massachusetts Attorney General’s Office.

Town asserting 'full-on assault of stink' wins latest round in nuisance feud with hot-mix asphalt maker

Quarry and asphalt manufacturing facility in England.
Richard Law via Wikimedia Commons GNU 1.2

An asphalt plant that residential neighbors blamed for burning eyes and sore throats is a public nuisance, the Massachusetts Appeals Court affirmed Friday.

There's been much hand-wringing over the use, and argued misuse, or even abuse of public nuisance law in recent years, from me included. The sub-subject is addressed in my recent 2 Tortz (2024 rev. ed.) (SSRN), and a recent book by the insightful Prof. Linda Mullenix sits on my desk, patiently awaiting attention.

But Friday's case is a reminder that sometimes, a public nuisance is just a nuisance.

The defendant's property, in Acushnet, Massachusetts, on the commonwealth's south coast and just 10 minutes from my work, was a quarry since the 1890s and an asphalt plant since the 1950s, the court recounted. Then in 2021, owner P.J. Keating (PJK) started operating a newly constructed hot-mix asphalt plant located closer than its predecessor facility to neighboring residential properties. Subsequently, local resident complained to the Acushnet Board of Health of noxious odor and burning eyes, noses, and throats.

The board ultimately sent two investigators, one its own agent and one a hired expert. Both validated the complaints. The board's agent reported, according to the court, that "the odor was 'horrendous,' lasted throughout his fifteen-minute visit, made his eyes water, and left him feeling dizzy for one-half hour after leaving the site.... He testified that at the home of one resident, he rated the odor as level four [of seven], but at another home he rated the odor as a seven for the duration of his visit, a 'full-on assault of ... stink.'"

PJK provided contrary evidence. PJK told the board that it complied with the toughest regulatory standards, and its activity comported with the property's industrial zoning. PJK cast doubt on the credibility of the complainants, showing that a great many complaints came from relatively few neighbors. And some complaints occurred at times when the plant was not operating, PJK submitted. PJK also submitted expert evidence to argue that any odors or fumes posed no risk to public health.

Some of the disconnect might have resulted from the source of odors or fumes being transport trucks rather than the plant itself, the board expert suggested. When the mixing facility was located deeper in the property, the hot-mix asphalt had more time to cool while it was loaded into the trucks. With the new facility, trucks were loaded and hit the road, close to residences, while the asphalt was still hot.

Either way, the problem before the Appeals Court was not really one of merits. After the Board of Health ordered PJK to cease and desist until it could get its emissions under control, PJK sought and obtained relief in the Superior Court. The Superior Court ruled that the board's decision was arbitrary and capricious and not supported by substantial evidence, so annulled the cease and desist.

Hardly so, the Appeals Court ruled: "We think it plain that the record contains substantial evidence supporting the board's conclusion that PJK's plant is a public nuisance." The board might have given witness testimony more credit than PJK cared to, but that's the job of the fact-finder. The board received abundant evidence from both sides, so its conclusion was neither arbitrary nor unsubstantiated.

As a point of interest, the court observed that the board's legal determination must be given some latitude. Quoting the state high court from 1952, "[b]oards of health are likely to be composed of laymen not skilled in drafting legal documents, and their orders should be read with this fact in mind. They should be so construed as to ascertain the real substance intended and without too great attention to niceties of wording and arrangement."

At a deeper level, the simple case is indicative of the challenge at the heart of public nuisance doctrine, a division between the powers of the judiciary, resonating in corrective justice, and the powers of the political branches, resonating in distributive justice.  Public nuisance cases are difficult because they put the courts in the position of enforcing amorphous public policy, here, enjoining the operation of a lawful business.

In this vein, it's telling that PJK relied on its full compliance with zoning laws, industrial regulations, and public health and environment laws. The strategy effectively argues that the question presented already has been decided by the political branches, so the courts should not second guess. If residents don't want an asphalt plant next door, the argument goes, their remedy is with the zoning commission. To burden a business beyond substantial regulation is to invite courts to interfere with the economy: not their job.

In another state, that argument might win the day. Massachusetts courts are less solicitous, or more willing to assert regulatory authority, if there is no plain political mandate to the contrary. The court here agreed with the board that just because asphalt-mixing odors and fumes are not regulated, or are regulated only at extremes—in fact, the EPA deregulated asphalt manufacturing emissions in 2003—does not mean there is no risk to public health, nor even that emissions are not carcinogenic.

One need look no farther than PFAS to show that non-regulation is not necessarily indicative of safety.

The outcome here is bad news for a nasty collateral litigation brought by PJK in 2022 against the Town of Acushnet.

The PJK suit in federal court demands $50 million dollars for losses in stalled productivity at the facility. PJK accused the town of regulatory taking through "a series of deliberate, methodical, concerted, and systematic actions to specifically target Plaintiffs and the Property and to stop the legal, longstanding operations on the Property," WJAR reported in January. According to PJK, "the [board agent] has stated that 'the Town hired him "to make PJK's life a living hell."'" 

Currently in discovery, the federal case is Tilcon, Inc. v. Acushnet, No. 1:22-cv-12046 (D. Mass. filed Dec. 2, 2022).

Friday's case is P.J. Keating Co. v. Acushnet, No. 23-P-629 (Mass. App. Ct. Apr. 12, 2024) (temporary state posting). Justice Peter W. Sacks wrote the unanimous opinion of the panel, which also comprised Justices Meade and Massing.

UMass Law inaugurates comparative law study abroad

UMass Law School has announced a two-week study abroad program in Lisbon, Portugal, in partnership with Universidade Católica Portuguesa (UCP), focused on U.S.-EU comparative law.

I'm quick to call out my employer when it does something bone-headed, so I should be willing to give praise when it does something right. This is the latter.

In 28 years of university teaching, I've consistently had to persuade deans that internationalism matters. Some, not always nor wholly to their discredit, have been so absorbed by the burdens of making the world better locally that they have not had the bandwidth to think about other cities and states, much less countries.

Some have just been fools. Like the one in Arkansas who told me that "our students don't care about that" to reject my proposed partnership with a Mexican school when Arkansas had the fastest growing per capita Latino population in the country, a new Mexican consulate was opening in Little Rock, and we supposedly cared about diversity.

It was a shock, then, to find that the new top dean this academic year at UMass Law, Sam Panarella, believes that international engagement is a vital component of being a good law school. Thanks to his leadership in just his first year as dean, 10 students from UMass Law will journey to Lisbon this very year to study the comparative law and policy of U.S. and EU data protection.

Rhode Island and the south coast of Massachusetts, where UMass Law is located, are home to the largest Portuguese-American population in the United States by a wide margin. So the program is a welcome and logical fit for 14-year-old UMass Law School. The program is made possible, especially for students, by generous support from the Center for Portuguese Studies and Culture at UMass Dartmouth, which does important work in its cultural niche.

We plan to repeat the Lisbon program in future years, in other areas of comparative focus, taking advantage of the varied expertise of law faculty at UMass and UCP. There are hurdles to overcome. But I'm hopeful that this is just the beginning of UMass Law's portfolio on international engagement.

Women 'knew their place' turns out to be losing union argument to justify discrimination in port jobs

Herman Melville boarded the Acushnet at New Bedford Harbor in 1841.
RJ Peltz-Steele, 2022, CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

From the Massachusetts Appeals Court today, a reminder that however far we've come, we've yet so far to go.

Specifically, [plaintiff-appellee] Robar alleged that she was passed over for work [at the Port of New Bedford, Mass.] as a forklift operator in favor of men who not only were less qualified than she was, but who—unlike her—lacked a mandatory qualification for the position. When given the opportunity to respond, the union's then-treasurer (later president and business agent), Edmond Lacombe, supplied a written statement that proved unhelpful to the union's defense. Specifically, among other things, he recounted that the women who were hired for the traditionally female positions "did not complain"; rather, "[t]hey, more or less, knew their place when work was issued and accepted the outcome."

The union was the defendant-appellant in the case, because its referrals to the employer were de facto selections for hiring. Perhaps needless to say, the court affirmed for the plaintiff on the merits. The court also rejected the union's contention that the National Labor Relations Act preempted enforcement of state labor law, rather finding the subject-matter jurisdiction concurrent.

The case is International Longshoremen Association, Local 1413-1465 v. Massachusetts Commission Against Discrimination (Mass. App. Ct. Apr. 3, 2024) (temporary state posting). Justice James R. Milkey wrote the unanimous decision of the panel, which also comprised Chief Justice Green and Justice Grant.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mass. attorney board rushes to racialize, shun 'overseer,' ignores word's ancient, biblical usages

A proposal published for public comment would change the name of the Massachusetts Board of Bar Overseers to the "Board of Bar Oversight" to avoid connotations of slavery in the term "overseer."

The new name means the "BBO" will keep its popular initialism. The BBO was formed in 1974, so the "overseer" usage originated independently of the negative connotation. It seems what's changed in the last half century is sensitivity to language, for better and for worse.

Frederick Douglass
and grandson Joseph Douglass, 1894
Smithsonian NMAAHC

The BBO stated its reasoning:

The word "overseer" has a pernicious history in our country, tied inextricably to chattel slavery. On southern plantations, an overseer was the slaveowner's delegate in day-to-day governance, trusted to enforce order and obedience. Overseers were the most visible representatives of white supremacy. As defined in the Online Etymology Dictionary, an overseer was "one who has charge, under the owner or manager, of the work done on a plantation." In autobiographies by slaves such as Frederick Douglas [sic] and Solomon Northup ("Twelve Years a Slave"), overseers were described as heartless, brutal and cruel. They were an inevitable and indispensable product of an economy built on human chattel. As noted by University of Louisville president Neeli Bendapudi, "The term overseer is a racialized term. It hearkens back to American slavery and reminds us of the brutality of the conditions and treatment of black people during this time." We agree with this statement.

I don't. To "racialize" is "to give a racial character to: to categorize, marginalize, or regard according to race." I agree that Bendapudi racialized the term. The BBO did not, before now. But therein lies the power of a passive structure, "is ... racialized," allowing one to accuse without responsibility to prove.

The BBO moreover is almost irresponsibly selective in its sourcing. First, the Online Etymology Dictionary is a project of a Pennsylvania writer, Douglas Harper. It's good and interesting to read; I'm not meaning to denigrate Harper's labor of love. But I'm not sure any one person's internet project should be anyone else's first stop for denotation, especially in a legal context. The BBO's sourcing is on par at best with high-school-term-paper standards.

Second, "one who has charge ... of the work done on a plantation" is not exactly what the Online Etymology Dictionary says. Rather, here's the entry in full:

late 14c., "supervisor, superintendent, one who looks over," agent noun from oversee (v.). Specifically, "one who superintends workmen;" especially with reference to slavery, "one who has charge, under the owner or manager, of the work done on a plantation."

So it's not true, even in the source referenced, that "overseer" on its face is defined as, or means, a plantation supervisor. The meaning arises in the especial context of slavery.

Maybe I'm a little sensitive to the whole thing because I once served as an "overseer" in my church. The BBO doesn't mention that the word has any meaning outside of slavery, much less that it has ancient and Biblical origins.

Episkopos (ἐπίσκοπος) in Ancient Greek translates literally as onlooker, or overseer, and that's the word used in the Iliad, the Odyssey, and the Bible. Epi (ἐπί) is a preposition meaning on or upon, and skopos (σκοπός) means to watch or look intently. Skopos is used variously (and in the Iliad) to refer to a lookout, a guardian, or a spy or scout.

In Ancient Greece, an episkopos referred specifically to a kind of imperial agent sent by Athens to distant municipalities to make sure they paid their taxes (Balcer 1977). (An interesting point of historical-comparative legal studies is that having a highly functional tax system is a common feature of successful ancient civilizations, from the Greeks to the Aztecs.) 

In the Iliad (22:255), A.T. Murray translation, Homer refers to the gods as witness to an agreement, using episkopoi (ἐπίσκοποι), the plural, to refer back to the gods. Murray beefed up the translation to say "witnesses and guardians of our covenant," thus articulating the added connotation of safeguarding.

In the Odyssey, also the Murray translation, below, Homer used episkopos more abstractly to indicate a role of authority:

τὸν δ᾽ αὖτ᾽ Εὐρύαλος ἀπαμείβετο νείκεσέ τ᾽ ἄντην:
‘οὐ γάρ σ᾽ οὐδέ, ξεῖνε, δαήμονι φωτὶ ἐίσκω
160ἄθλων, οἷά τε πολλὰ μετ᾽ ἀνθρώποισι πέλονται,
ἀλλὰ τῷ, ὅς θ᾽ ἅμα νηὶ πολυκλήιδι θαμίζων,
ἀρχὸς ναυτάων οἵ τε πρηκτῆρες ἔασιν,
φόρτου τε μνήμων καὶ ἐπίσκοπος ᾖσιν ὁδαίων
κερδέων θ᾽ ἁρπαλέων: οὐδ᾽ ἀθλητῆρι ἔοικας. 

Then again Euryalus made answer and taunted him to his face: "Nay verily, stranger, for I do not liken thee to a man that is skilled in contests, such as abound among men, but to one who, faring to and fro with his benched ship, is a captain of sailors who are merchantmen, one who is mindful of his freight, and has charge of a home-borne cargo, and the gains of his greed. Thou dost not look like an athlete."

In none of several English versions of this passage did I find episkopos translated directly. Poetically inclined translators such as Murray carried over the subject "captain" with either a pronoun or an implied subject. "Captain" here is "ἀρχὸς," or "chief." So it looks like Homer saw ἀρχὸς and ἐπίσκοπος as functionally equivalent in this context.

The New Testament accordingly uses episkopos several times to refer to church leaders. Indeed, "bishop" in English derives from the Greek episkopos—episcopus in Latin and obispo in Spanish.

Shepherd in 1 Peter 2:25
© Saint Mary's Press, licensed for non-commercial use

The First Epistle of Peter (2:25) (NIV) uses episkopos abstractly, as a metaphor for Jesus: "For 'you were like sheep going astray,' but now you have returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls" ("ἦτε γὰρ ὡς πρόβατα πλανώμενα· ἀλλ᾽ ἐπεστράφητε νῦν ἐπὶ τὸν ποιμένα καὶ ἐπίσκοπον τῶν ψυχῶν ὑμῶν").  

Other usages are more concrete. In Acts 20:28 (NIV), Paul admonishes disciples: "Keep watch over yourselves and all the flock of which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers. Be shepherds of the church of God, which he bought with his own blood" ("προσέχετε οὖν ἑαυτοῖς καὶ παντὶ τῷ ποιμνίῳ ἐν ᾧ ὑμᾶς τὸ πνεῦμα τὸ ἅγιον ἔθετο ἐπισκόπους ποιμαίνειν τὴν ἐκκλησίαν τοῦ θεοῦ ἣν περιεποιήσατο διὰ τοῦ ἰδίου αἵματος"). Similar usages appear in Philippians 1:1, 1 Timothy 3:2, 1 Titus 1:7, and Hebrews 13:17.

The BBO needs to be called out here for shoddy work (really, misspelling Frederick Douglass?) and results-oriented reasoning. The board is myopically intent on sacrificing a word on the pyre of cancel culture—a move indicative more of wanting to look righteous than of wanting to be righteous. I might rather, as a general rule, strive for education and enlightenment, at least as a first-order response.

Yet, as it happens, I agree with the BBO's conclusion and proposal. Despite the board's woke pandering, the risk is significant that "overseer" will import for some hearers a connotation that should be foreign to the board's role. For me, it's not about "racialization"; it's about relationship. 

When I moved to New England and started to learn the ropes of the local legal culture, I bristled at the term "Bar Overseers." To be fair to Massachusetts, I have had the same feeling in other jurisdictions about boards of attorney and judicial "discipline." 

"Overseer" and boy in Yazoo City, Miss., yarn mill, 1911.
U.S. Library of Congress

I fear that these words connote a top-down style of austere supervision, a system of the powerful and the powerless, that does not comport with a profession of mutually supportive equals (dare I say, a brethren, which is and should be gender encompassing). "Overseer" is suggestive of a dramatic power imbalance; the word was used not only in connection with slavery and plantations, but in the context of child labor in the early 20th century.

That doesn't mean that the time never comes when persistent or willful misconduct requires a firm response; the profession owes its highest duty to the public. But using terms such as "overseer" and "discipline" has the unintended consequence of encouraging officeholders to misunderstand their roles. Lawyering and judging are among jobs that endow persons with authority over others, whether through power, like policing, or through access to knowledge. Some people attracted to these jobs are prone to use, or abuse, their power for its own sake. Those same people might gravitate to a job such as "overseer" or arbiter of "discipline" for the wrong reasons.

I was more amenable to the term "overseer" in my church, because the biblical usage is, or should be, utterly alien to abuse of power. Similarly, a church speaks of spiritual "discipline" with only the affirmative connotation of accountability to God. As a church overseer, I felt the weight of guardianship in the term. Being an overseer was a stern reminder of my responsibilities to others and sometimes, too often, of my own duties and failures of spiritual discipline. Anyone truly called to church leadership is humbled by the call, not lured by empowerment.

Even so, when my board of overseers overhauled the church constitution, we changed to "elder" leadership. At the same time, we changed the governance model. We studied and prayed over many church governance models. The Bible says remarkably little about specifics, so the art of church governance becomes part spiritual endeavor and part sociological experiment. We designed a variation on governance that we believed would work well for our congregation, better, at least, than what we had in an aging constitution. 

"Elder" aligned better with our new model, which emphasizes biblical knowledge, experience, and mentorship. There's nothing technically deficient in the term "overseer" for our new model, and we were not afraid of "racialization." It was just semantics. Different Christian writers have committed to different terms, so those terms now carry connotations of the writers' observations and recommendations.

So connotation, like context, matters. And given the connotation of barbarism that even sometimes attaches to "overseer," especially in secular contexts, the BBO's modest proposal is sensible.

I simply would prefer that the proposal were backed by an evenhanded and honest analysis. Then we might be able to say, more modestly, that we are just pushing pause on "overseer": giving its deplorable connotation time to fade in our social consciousness, rather than committing a word of ancient import to the dustbin because of a modern-era abomination.