Public rights and standing

Owen Smitherman has posted "History, Public Rights, and Article III Standing", forthcoming in the Harvard Journal of Law and Public Policy. The abstract:

For decades, legal academics have complained about a conflict between history and the doctrine of Article III standing. First in Spokeo v. Robins (2016) and then notably in TransUnion LLC v. Ramirez (2021), Justice Clarence Thomas presented a halfway resolution. Thomas grounded Article III standing in a historical distinction between private and public rights. Suits for violations of private rights would require no showing of concrete injury-in-fact. Suits for violations of public rights would require the showing of special damage, a term borrowed from the public nuisance tort.

This Article questions this effective retention of injury-in-fact for public rights actions. In Part I, I explain Justice Thomas’s nuanced approach to Article III standing. In Part II, I investigate old English and early American materials on special damage to flesh out the meaning of Thomas’s requirement for public rights standing. I find a lack of historical consensus on the content of the special damage standard. Some materials go this way, others go that way, and still others another way. The materials do not align on a precise standard, making it difficult, either as a matter of 1788 original meaning or later liquidation, to operationalize Thomas’s special damage requirement. In Part III, I argue that there are good reasons to doubt that the requirement of special damage is constitutionally relevant to the original meaning of Article III. The Framers did not discuss special damage in relation to Article III. The traditional rationale for the specific damage requirement does not have constitutional significance. And it seems implausible that the Constitution incorporated a legal doctrine in such flux without textual indication. In conclusion, I critique the current Court’s lack of attention to original meaning for Article III standing.

Justice Thomas (Stetson University)

The Roman public trust doctrine

I've often expressed impatience with the throwaway references to Justinian (often misconstrued as an adjective!) that are so ubiquitous in discussions of the public trust doctrine. Now comes Bruce Frier's review of Domenico Dursi's Res Communes Omnium. Dalle necessità economiche alla disciplina giuridica (Jovene, 2017) to make some order for those of us for whom Roman law is something of an enigma. Frier writes, explaining his own view (I'm omitting most citations and footnotes):

By the Late [Roman] Republic, the general idea of res communes was already well known in Roman culture. Plautus’ comic play Rudens, thought to date from c.190 B.C., features a fisherman (his occupation is important!) proclaiming that “the sea is unquestionably common to all persons” (mare quidem commune certost omnibus) in a longer speech that emphasizes fish as belonging to their captor.... [T]he concept becomes much more familiar in Latin sources from the Late Republic and Early Empire. Forms of common property are most often the air and the sea, but Cicero adds in the seashore (litus) as well. Although the familiar idea of common property was further elaborated in Early Imperial poetic or Stoic theories on the origin and development of human culture, there is no sign that these theories had any pronounced influence on the law; certainly they lead to no demonstrable legal conclusions.

By the Late Republic, a second cultural element had emerged: a widespread and often expressed disquiet about the startling proliferation of villas along the coast of central Italy and the Bay of Naples.... The architects of these villas, capitalizing on recently-discovered hydraulic concrete, often put down substructures extending beyond the shore and out into the sea — a phenomenon quite commonly referred to in legal texts, and one of particular concern to poets such as Horace who perceived the structures as morally hubristic. More exciting, however, is the discovery that not a few of the maritime villas incorporate fishponds so large that they were plainly intended to produce fresh fish not just for the villa, but for local markets.... [T]hese fishponds may well have brought the villa-owners into direct confrontation with more humble local fishers. 

Free the beach

The Boston Review recently published Andrew Kahrl's "Free the Beach", an essay adapted from his Free the Beaches: The Story of Ned Coll and the Battle for America’s Most Exclusive Shoreline (Yale UP, 2018). Here's an excerpt that digs into the connection between land privatization and racism:

For millennia, beaches have been considered public property. The legal principle of the public trust doctrine, which dates to the ancient Mediterranean world, has long held the seashore as public land. In 1892 the U.S. Supreme Court validated the public trust doctrine with its decision in Illinois Central Railroad v. Illinois, which ruled that land covered by tidal water belonged to the public, with the state acting as a trustee. States were obligated to maintain that trust and protect the public’s right to access the shore in perpetuity.

Each state, however, marked the line separating public land from private property along the shore at a different spot—some drew the line at high tide, others at low tide, still others at the vegetation line—and devised different definitions of what constituted legitimate use of the public’s shore. Some states conceived of the public’s right to the shore in broad terms. Other states hewed closely to the public trust doctrine’s original intent. Massachusetts and Maine, for instance, held that the public’s right to the foreshore applied only to fishing and navigation; that private ownership extended down to the low-water line; and that the recreational use of private property was tantamount to an unconstitutional taking of private property. Connecticut drew the line between public and private property at the mean high-water mark, and its courts recognized swimming and recreation as legitimate uses of public trust lands.

While Connecticut’s supreme court upheld the public status of the foreshore, the actions of shoreline developers, backed by the state legislature, made it increasingly difficult for members of the public to enjoy their beach access rights. Beginning in the 1880s, wealthy families began building summer cottages along remote sections of shore in the state’s eastern half. In 1885 the state legislature granted a charter to a group of families who owned cottages in Old Saybrook. The charter gave the Fenwick Association the power to levy its own taxes and enact zoning restrictions. During the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, other small groups of families successfully petitioned the state legislature for charters to form what came to be known as private beach associations. Many of these early beach associations formed as an expeditious way of meeting the basic needs of summer homeowners in remote, undeveloped areas lacking in basic infrastructure and services. 

Public trust and public access

A while back we noted an H-Environment roundtable on Andrew Kahrl's The Land Was Ours: African American Beaches from Jim Crow to the Sunbelt South. Now Kahrl has turned his attention to the North in Free the Beaches: The Story of Ned Coll and the Battle for America’s Most Exclusive Shoreline (Yale UP, 2018), and Law & History Review has a review by Deborah Dinner. Dinner writes:

On July 4, 1974, a daring, no-holds-barred activist named Ned Coll launched an amphibian assault on an exclusive Beach Club in Madison, Connecticut. Coll’s comrades included more than fifty children from nearby Hartford’s poor, majority African-American housing projects. The children, their mothers, and staff members of Revitalization Corps, an advocacy organization dedicated to racial equality and justice for the poor, were clothed in bathing suits and armed only with laughter, songs, and excitement. Yet the affluent white parents on the beach saw the newcomers’ entry as an ambush and quickly retreated, children in tow, to their private club. The episode constituted one highlight of Coll’s campaign to win public access to the beaches along the shoreline of a state plagued by extreme wealth inequality.

A somewhat obscure common law doctrine—newly and hotly contested in the 1970s—rested at the heart of Coll’s creative protest of the Madison Beach Club. The public trust doctrine...

Digital Library V: A History of the Foreshore and the Law Relating Thereto (1888)

In the common-law world, historical and legal argument are frequently intertwined, a phenomenon reflected in the title of this week's addition to the digital library of historical environmental law, Stuart A. Moore's A History of the Foreshore and the Law Relating Thereto, published in London by Stevens & Haynes in 1888 (available on the Internet Archive and in Gale's The Making of Modern Law).

Moore's work was part of a wave of antiquarian interest in early writings on property rights in the seashore (today this topic would be labeled "public trust doctrine") that seems to have been motivated largely by legal and economic issues at stake during Britain's industrial revolution. So in addition to his treatment of a legal manuscript by the Elizabethan-era mathematician Thomas Digges and other early sources, Moore reproduced in his work "A New Treatise by Sir Matthew Hale, from a MS. in his Handwriting", which Moore believed to be an early version of the influential De Jure Maris and other works by Hale published by Francis Hargrave in the late eighteenth century. And, as Moore explained in his introduction, the whole work was born out of a project to issue a new edition of Robert Gream Hall's Essay on the Rights of the Crown and the Privileges of the Subject in the Sea Shores of the Realm, first published in 1830:

Water rights V: Public rights

(Continuing the series on water rights:)

Whatever property regime applies to water, the public often retains certain rights in the resource. Thus, for instance, in American law, though a river's water may be owned by riparian landowners or appropriators, the federal government retains a "navigation servitude" in the water with which private owners (and states) cannot interfere (Trelease, 1965).

Joseph Sax

Recent decades have seen much discussion of the "public trust doctrine", rules that allow public interests, especially environmental ones, to trump the normal property rules in water. Though the doctrine has its roots in the traditional civil and common law, particularly with regard to tidelands (Selvin, 1980), its modern form was first articulated by Joseph Sax in a highly influential article (1970), in which he argued that the historical doctrine should be developed to encourage courts to subject actions that harm the environment to strict scrutiny. In the field of water rights the doctrine has been applied by American state courts in recent decades to push states to protect environmental values, even when this protection is in tension with private property rights (Craig, 2010). The best-known expression of this trend is the decision of the California Supreme Court in the Mono Lake case, in which the court ruled that longstanding water diversions from the lake by the city of Los Angeles might need to be limited by the state in order to protect ecological values being harmed by the lowering of the lake level. In recent years the doctrine has been adopted in additional countries around the world (Cullet, 2009; Blumm and Guthrie, 2012).

The public trust doctrine continues to receive support from many commentators, but it has also been criticized. On the one hand, it has been argued that the doctrine places undue reliance on an inflexible, property rule as applied by the judiciary, while environmental protection should be sought from progressive legislation (Lazarus, 1986). On the other, the doctrine has been criticizes as historically without basis, undemocratic, and invasive of private property rights (Huffman, 1989, 2007).

Next: A human right to water. The full article is here.

Property in water and urban water supply

"New" Jersey City reservoir, c. 1880

Yesterday's This Day in Water History posted an interesting story on a 1919 fine handed down to Jersey City for using too much water, but both the original report and the commentary reflect some misunderstandings. The blog quotes an editorial on "Public Control of Water" from the Municipal Journal of June 14, 1919:

Water companies and departments have appealed to consumers from time to time to restrict consumption in order to avert a water famine in the city, and meters are used largely to prevent waste; but we believe it is something new to impose a penalty for excessive consumption. As told last week, Jersey City, N. J., has been fined by the state $22,285 for using from the Rockaway river more than the 100 gallons per day per capita which had been allotted to it. 

The Israeli (and Ottoman and Islamic) public trust doctrine

Chapter heading from the Hebrew translation of the Mejelle by Frumkin

Zafrir Rinat, Haaretz's environment reporter, recently wrote about the story of Moshe Puterman's arrest for entering a municipal beach without paying the admission fee, and the court decision which might be thought of as a foundational document of an Israeli public trust doctrine:

One day in 1959, Puterman and a few friends went to the seashore in Herzliya. As was usual at that time, the municipal attendants demanded that they pay in order to enter. But Puterman was fed up with paying, and he snuck in – with the attendants hot on his heels.

“There was a scuffle and I escaped, but they caught me and I was taken into custody,” he recalled recently. “I told the attendants that this was a public area and that they were acting like thieves. It upset me to pay for something that should have come to me by right.”

Puterman was convicted in Tel Aviv Magistrate’s Court for refusing to pay and for resisting the attendants with force. He was ordered to pay a fine. But he did not let the matter rest there.

“My lawyer was the late Avraham Socholovsky, who was also a personal friend,” Puterman told me. “As we left the courtroom, I asked him, ‘Do we keep going?’ ‘Of course,’ he replied.”

Socholovsky appealed, and Tel Aviv District Court Judge Jacob Gavison overturned the earlier conviction. [see excerpts of the decision below-DS]

*****

The ruling became a precedent that enshrined the public’s right to free access to the seashores. According to attorney Amit Bracha, executive director of Adam Teva V’Din: the Israel Union for Environmental Defense, the verdict led to legislation, in 1964, that prohibits charging an entry fee to beaches where only basic services – lifeguards, toilets, showers – are provided (though a fee can be charged for parking near a beach). It also led to the High Court of Justice decision in a petition filed by the IUED against the Interior Ministry more than 10 years ago. The court then instructed the ministry to order local governments to uphold the law concerning free entry to beaches. Nevertheless, there are a few beaches that still charge an entry fee.

I've translated below some excerpts from Judge Gavison's decision, which, it is worth noting, predates the well-known line of New Jersey beach access cases by a decade (see here, pp. 17-22). (I'd also like to note that Gavison taught law at the Tel Aviv extension of Hebrew University, the predecessor of the institution at which I teach.) Two points of contact with the American public trust doctrine seem interesting:

Sir Matthew Hale and the moral law of stewardship

Today we're fortunate to have an interesting guest post from Erin Drew, of the University of Mississippi English department:

Sir Matthew Hale is frequently credited with a key role in establishing the public trust doctrine in modern environmental law—a claim that has been contested by multiple scholars on the basis of both the legal relevance to American law and whether his claims for public rights in De Jure Maris can be taken as a statement of public trust at all. Whatever Hale’s relationship to public trust doctrine as a principle of law, however, his religious writings show that he relied upon legal metaphors of trusts and stewardship as the basis for moral arguments for the human obligation to care for their environment. References to human stewardship were not uncommon in religious writing of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, but Hale elaborates on the moral implications of the steward’s fiduciary role in a more extensive and legally detailed way than most, emphasizing the human obligation to account to the proprietary “lord,” God, for the responsible and proper use of that which has been entrusted to them.

In a chapter in his posthumously published Contemplations Moral and Divine entitled “The Great Audit, with the Account of the Good Steward,” Hale uses the Book of Matthew’s parable of the talents to imagine God calling humans to “account” for their use of the “blessings and talents” that God “committed to [their] trust and stewardship, to manage … for they ends they were given.” While the “blessings and talents” Hale discusses are broad and comprehensive, he gives special attention to the implications of human beings’ “stewardship” of creation for their duties to nonhuman creatures. In the section subtitled “Touching Thy Creatures,” Hale writes: “I received and used thy creatures as committed to me under a Trust, and as a Steward and Accomptent for them; and therefore I was always careful to use them according to those Limits, and in order for those Ends, for which thou didst commit them to me.” Hale frames the “Limits” to human control in terms of justice: God “has given us a Dominion over thy Creatures, yet it is under a Law of Justice, Prudence, and Moderation; otherwise we should become Tyrants, not Lords.” That “Law of Justice” requires using the nonhuman world with “Temperance and Moderation,” for the “Support of the Exigencies” of human life, yet with “Mercy and Compassion” for the “Powers of Life and Sense” which non-humans possess. To fail in either temperance or compassion would constitute a “Breach of that Trust under which the Dominion of the Creatures was committed to us, and a Breach of that Justice that is due from Men … to be merciful to [their] Beasts.” Cruelty and mistreatment of other creatures is therefore “a Tyranny inconsistent with the Trust and Stewardship that thou [God] has committed” to humans.

Thus Hale imagines a contractual relationship existing among God, humans, and non-humans, making humans morally responsible for the well-being of present and future generations of beings. Though Hale, like any contemporary moralist, stresses the sinfulness of the “Luxury and Excess … Lusts … vain Glory or Ostentation” that spur humans to mistreat and misuse the non-human creatures in their power, for him the fundamental sin is the violation of man’s fiduciary duties as God’s steward. Thus using creatures to excess is not simply a sin of personal gluttony. It breaks the terms under which God granted humans their limited dominion, by (in this case, literally) eating into God’s resources: whenever eating or drinking, Hale says, “I checked myself, … still remembered I had thy Creatures under an Accompt; and was ever careful to avoid excess or Intemperance, because every excessive Cup and Meal was in Danger to leave me somewhat Insuper and Arrear to my Lord.” The sin of mis- or over-use of God’s creatures, for Hale, lies in the violation of the contract between man and God to care for his creation according to the stipulated terms, and the failure to maintain God’s creation as a steward ought, by taking more from it than can be sustained. Hale believes the power granted to humans as the stewards of the world to be by its very nature subject to a law whose primary purpose is to ensure that justice and happiness is, overall, extended to each creature. That is, after all, the rationale that licenses human sovereignty over the world: that they maintain God’s ideal balance among the competing needs of various creatures for the optimal happiness of all. Only by justly fulfilling the duties laid out for them by God can humans legitimately claim “dominion” over the nonhuman world.

It makes sense for Hale to rely on the language of law and justice to reinforce moral obligations, since as biographer Alan Cromartie points out, Hale’s legal philosophy was based upon the premise of a legislating God who was “the basis of all natural moral knowledge,” as well as the premise that “the rule that all contracts should be kept was much the most important natural law.” In this, Hale was a part of a longstanding tradition of contractarian natural law, which drew moral principles from the nature of the fundamental contract between God the creator and his creations. Not all those who shared Hale’s belief that human beings were the trustees and stewards of God’s gifts extended their obligations to nonhuman creatures, but there is reason to believe that his opinions on that subject had a long and lasting influence on English morality, if not law: “The Great Audit” was excerpted, condensed, and reprinted regularly as a pamphlet from the 1690s to the 1790s, and the sub-section “Touching Thy Creatures” was the longest of the eight sub-sections included in those condensed editions, taking up five of a total of around twenty-five pages.

State ownership of wildlife

A few months ago we noted some blog posts on the decision of the US Supreme Court in Horne v. Department of Agriculture, which seemed to seemed to revive the doctrine that wildlife is state property. Now there's an article: John Echeverria & Michael Blumm, "Horne v. Department of Agriculture: Expanding Per Se Takings While Endorsing State Sovereign Ownership of Wildlife". From the abstract:

In Horne v. Department of Agriculture, the Supreme Court expanded its so-called per se analysis under the Takings Clause to government actions impairing possession of personal property. The Court decided that a New Deal era agricultural program effected a taking by requiring raisin growers to turn over a portion of their crops in certain years to a governmental body that disposes of the raisins in noncompetitive markets. The raisin marketing program, which by law only persists with continuing support from the raisin industry itself, aims to control the market supply of raisins, and thereby elevate and stabilize the prices received by raisin growers. Despite the unusual character of the program, a majority of the Court ruled that certain dissident raisin growers were entitled to prevail on their theory that government "appropriations" of personal property interests in raisins were governed by the same per se takings rule that applies to government appropriations of real property.

***** 

The Horne decision did include an unexpected result of considerable benefit to government defendants, however: the Court distinguished the raisin marketing program from a similar program involving oysters that it upheld against a takings challenge in a 1929 decision. The Chief Justice explained that, unlike raisins, oysters were public property. The Court thereby ratified the venerable but somewhat misunderstood doctrine of sovereign ownership of wildlife. States employ this doctrine, inherited from England and nearly universally adopted by American states, to uphold wildlife conservation regulations and defeat claims of private ownership. Often referred to as the “wildlife trust,” the doctrine is the kind of “background principle” of property law that the Court recognized as defeating claims of takings in its 1992 decision of Lucas v. South Carolina Coastal Commission. 

In this article we examine the Horne decision in some detail. Although the case does extend the Court’s takings jurisprudence to an uncertain extent by applying the per se analysis to personal property, we think the long-term ramifications of the decision lie in the Court’s recognition of the sovereign ownership of wildlife. That doctrine not only will defeat private takings claims but should sanction affirmative regulation of wildlife and protection for its habitat, authorize government actions to recover damages against those harming wildlife and wildlife habitat, and reinforce public standing to enforce the wildlife trust.

Magna Carta and the environment

King John hunting, from Statutes of England (14th century)

Much has been written recently on Magna Carta, now celebrating its 800th anniversary. Jill Lepore's piece at the New Yorker is good; the best is still Tony Hancock's 1959 take.

I was fortunate to attend the recent British Legal History Conference at the University of Reading, as part of which we made an excursion to the meadow at Runnymede where King John signed Magna Carta. The first environmental element in this story is a monument that was never erected at Runnymede, planned to honor William III. Apparently the reason it was not built was that the soft ground of the meadow would not have been able to support it.

William Thomas, Design for a column with a statue of William III
intended to be erected at Runnymede (British Library)

Given the design, we should be thankful for that environmental constraint, but, as usual, the environment didn't get in the way of good ole American ingenuity. Runnymede is now a silly place, with a lot of memorials set up by Americans; the central one, erected by the American Bar Association, looks like a World War II memorial:

American donors also got some very classy plaques:

And the main British contribution to the site just might be a joke:

But enough about Runnymede. Magna Carta itself (here's an accessible English translation) has very little on liberty or what we would think of today as major constitutional issues, and a lot of esoteric clauses ranging from the colorful to the weird to the upsetting. And quite a bit on environmental-legal issues. Take clause 33: "All fish-weirs shall be removed from the Thames, the Medway, and throughout the whole of England, except on the sea coast." As Nicholas Vincent explains at the British Library's website, what's at issue here is the free navigation, or the public trust as we might call it today.

More on Mono Lake

Mono Lake continues to inspire scholarship, with Erin Ryan recently posting "The Public Trust Doctrine, Private Water Allocation, and Mono Lake: The Historic Saga of National Audubon Society v. Superior Ct.". The abstract:

This article tells the epic tale of the fall and rise of Mono Lake — the strange and beautiful Dead Sea of California — which fostered some of the most important environmental law developments of the last century, and which has become a platform for some of the most potentially important developments in the new century. It shares the backstory and legacy of the California Supreme Court’s famous decision in National Audubon Society v. Superior Court, 658 P.2d 709 (Cal. 1983), known more widely as “the Mono Lake case.” Inspired by innovative legal scholarship and advocacy, the decision spawned a quiet legal revolution in public trust ideals, which has redounded to other states and even nations as far distant as India. 

Mono Lake (BPG)

The Mono Lake dispute pitted advocates for the local ecosystem and community against proponents of the continued export of Mono Basin water to millions of thirsty Californians hundreds of miles to the south. The controversy itself spanned decades, but the story leading up to the litigation stretches back more than a hundred years, adding depth and dimension to the tale that is easily missed on a casual reading of the Audubon Society decision itself. It is a case study on the challenges and possibilities for balancing legitimate needs for public infrastructure and economic development with competing environmental values, all within systems of law that are still evolving to manage these conflicts. And at this particular moment in time, commemorating the hundredth anniversary of the Los Angeles Aqueduct that would threaten the lake and the twentieth anniversary of the State Water Board’s ultimate decision to save it, the Mono Lake story is especially worth revisiting.

The public trust in wildlife

John Echeverria's Takings Litigation blog recently (April 24) covered a surprising development in arguments before the US Supreme Court:

Who could have imagined that the takings case of Horne v Department of Agriculture argued in the Supreme Court this past Wednesday might portend revival of the doctrine of public trust ownership of wildlife?  But it might. Really.

The Horne case has to do with whether a federal program forcing raisin growers to turn over a portion of their crop to the government is a "taking", constitutionally requiring compensation. Echevarria explains how the public trust comes into this:

The dramatic surprise in the oral argument on Wednesday came during the discussion of the 1929 chestnut of Leonard v. Earle, a Supreme Court precedent with an uncanny resemblance to the Horne case. The case involved a takings claim based on a Maryland statute that required oyster “packers” to turn over to the State of Maryland, once the oysters had been shucked, 10% of the empty shells. The shells, though surely not as valuable as the innards, had value for roadmaking, as fertilizers, and as animal feed. The State’s purpose in procuring the shells was to arrest the “rapid exhaustion” of Maryland’s oyster beds by using the spent shells to build the depleted beds back up and provide a substrate on which young oysters could grow.  In response to the argument that the statute amounted to a taking, Justice McReynolds wrote:

“From the packer’s standpoint, empty shells are but ordinary articles of commerce, desirable because convertible into money. Their value is not large, and the part taken by the state will be so used as greatly to advantage the business of packing. The purpose in view is highly beneficent, and the means adopted are neither arbitrary nor oppressive. The federal Constitution may not be so successfully invoked by selfish packers who seek to escape an entirely reasonable contribution, and thereby to thwart a great conservation measure generally approved.”

African-American Oystermen circa mid-1800s (oysterharbor.org)

The public trust doctrine in the UK Supreme Court

The Supreme Court of the United Kingdom recently decided a case, R (on the application of Newhaven Port and Properties Limited) v East Sussex County Council, that includes quite a bit of discussion of the public trust doctrine and its history. The doctrine, which, in its basic form, recognizes certain rights of public property in certain waters and beaches, has become a staple of environmental law teaching and scholarship in recent decades, thanks in large part to its revival and adaptation by Joseph Sax.

A bathing machine, of the sort at issue in Blundell v Catterall

While many courts and writers are fond of tracing the doctrine's origins to ancient Roman law and English common law, close followers of the topic will know that the leading English precedent on the topic is the 1821 ruling of the King's Bench in Blundell v Catterall, in which the majority actually ruled against recognition of public rights of access to a private beach (though Justice Best's dissent is probably more often quoted). Now comes the Supreme Court of the UK and examines the history of the doctrine in English law and elsewhere in detail--see, in particular, paragraphs 32-51 and 106-136.

Some of my favorite parts of Lord Carnwath's concurrence:

106. At least since Brinckman v Matley [1904] 2 Ch 313, the decision of the Court of King’s Bench in Blundell v Catterall (1821) 5 B & Ald 268 has been taken as establishing at Court of Appeal level that under English law the public has no general right to go onto the foreshore for the purpose of bathing or other recreation.... Not even the strong dissenting judgment of Best J in the earlier case, the advocacy of a future Lord Chancellor (Buckmaster KC), nor the criticism of three textbook writers cited by him (p 320), were sufficient to persuade the court to revisit the issue, or even to call on opposing counsel. The members of the court were unanimous in their praise for the model judgment of Holroyd J, regarded it seems as “one of the finest examples” of how a judgment should be expressed (p 323)....

107. No doubt because judicial fashions have changed, I confess that I do not find the enthusiasm of the Court of Appeal for the judgment of Holroyd J altogether easy to share. Its erudite analysis of extracts from Justinian, Bracton, and Hale, and of obscure exchanges between the court and counsel in some early English cases, makes rather heavy reading to modern eyes.

Standard Oil and environmental law

The October 2014 issue of Environmental History has a lot of law in it. We'll start with Jonathan Wlasiuk's "A Company Town on Common Waters: Standard Oil in the Calumet". Wlasiuk writes:

Although the twentieth-century American environmental movement was punctuated by the voices of critics within the modernist state, from Aldo Leopold to Ed Abbey, the predominant narrative focuses on calls for federal management of ecosystems that had been controlled by corporations and local governments since the advent of the industrial era. Environmental historians have engaged the debate over whether private or public forces bear responsibility for environmental decline by examining what Christine Meisner Rosen calls “industrial ecology” in search of the business roots of environmental degradation or, less often, rehabilitation. The federal regulatory framework of the EPA and the raft of antipollution legislation that emerged in the 1960s and 1970s was the culmination, not the beginning, of both federal investigations of public health concerns related to industry dating back to the New Deal era and the failure of a cluster of state oversight, local control, and free market solutions. Betsy Mendelsohn has argued that these regulatory precursors are important because they “established the legal setting for the modern environmental law movement that culminated in NEPA in 1969.” A significant chapter in this transition occurred on the Great Lakes in the twentieth century. The industrial ecology of Lake Michigan reveals the failure of market solutions and local control over the environment: corporations found little incentive to protect the quality of common waters and Lake Michigan collected the ecological consequences from polities severed by state boundaries.

This article examines the growth of federal regulatory power by analyzing a turning point in the ecology of the Calumet region on the Illinois-Indiana border and Lake Michigan. In 1889 Standard Oil transferred the heart of its domestic manufacturing empire from Cleveland, Ohio, to Whiting, Indiana, where it constructed the largest oil refinery in the world. Along the lakeshore of northwest Indiana, Standard Oil began an experiment to reorganize its petroleum empire on the principles of scientific management. For nearly eighty years, the company lived the libertarian dream of freedom from government regulation and extended the logic of scientific efficiency to the control of labor and the environment. In private interviews Rockefeller revealed the guiding ethos of his empire: “I shall hail the day when our watchword shall be efficiency, as applied to labor, to people in all positions.” As industry flocked to the Calumet region and reached a critical mass in the early twentieth century, the consequences of industrial efficiency washed down the Calumet River and into the ecology of Lake Michigan.

Chicago Park District employee Philip Saeli sprays
deodorant on dead alewives at Montrose harbor in July 1967.
Bob Langer, photographer. Courtesy of Sun-Times Media.

When water pollution drifted over state boundaries, a growing awareness of the inability of local and even state governments to control industry developed into calls for wholesale reform by midcentury. As Hugh Gorman has argued, postwar federal government mandates redefined corporate efficiency “from a guiding ethic rooted solely in the efficient use of resources to one that recognizes the need to comply with regulations based on environmental objectives.” The corporate ecology of Standard Oil on Lake Michigan reveals how a commitment to technological control and efficiency produced an environmental collapse that transformed Lake Michigan and threatened the public health of millions of Americans. Although the federal government intervened by the late 1960s, their caution in deferring to local, state, and interstate solutions challenges [James] Scott’s characterization of an aggressive “administrative ordering of nature and society.” In the Calumet region, this description better fits the actions of industrial corporations. 

Among other interesting points, here is Wlasiuk putting a renowned court decision on the public trust in context:

Mono Lake at 20

A favorite of environmentalists, environmental law professors, and students is the California Supreme Court's 1983 decision in the Mono Lake Case, applying the public trust doctrine in a particularly emphatic way on the side of ecological values. Anyone who's read the case knows that the court didn't apply the trust in a strong, "property" sort of way, but rather sent the issue back to the administrative agency to reconsider diversions from the lake, giving due weight to the values protected by the trust. So what actually happened afterwards?

On November 17 Berkeley Law will be holding a symposium on the issue, "Mono Lake at 20: Past, Present and Future". Note that the "20" is not since the famous court decision, but the 20th anniversary of the ensuing State Water Resources Control Board’s Decision 1631. Michael Kiparsky explains at Legal Planet:

In 1983 the California Supreme Court directed the SWRCB to amend Los Angeles Department of Water and Power’s water rights to protect Mono Lake and its tributary creeks. In 1994, the SWRCB issued Decision 1631, its landmark decision in the Mono Lake Cases. The decision was the first in the state’s history to integrate the Water Code, Fish and Game Code, and the common law of public trust, to achieve such a result.

The symposium will address a number of fundamental questions. What are the actual results of implementation of D-1631? What does the decision mean for other water rights, as the State Water Board seeks to determine how best to protect public trust uses of the Delta and Central Valley rivers....

This effort will extend the academic symposia at UC Davis in 1980 and 2011 in several intentional ways. Building on the doctrinal syntheses of the Public Trust Doctrine developed by the scholars at UC Davis, we will seek to move from problem definition towards solutions statements. The symposium will do so by bringing together panelists from multiple perspectives to distill lessons learned from twenty years of concerted effort, placing them in the context of institutional, fiscal, and ecological realities.

In Memoriam: Joseph Sax

Earlier this week the great environmental law scholar Joseph Sax passed away, at age 78. Read the appreciation by Holly Doremus at Legal Planet.

As noted by the New York Times, Professor Sax was perhaps best known for his advancing the concept of "public trust doctrine" as an organizing concept of environmental law. Before Sax "revived and re-invented" (as Carol Rose put it) this now-widespread idea in his seminal article, The Public Trust Doctrine in Natural Resource Law: Effective Judicial Intervention, few had heard of the doctrine. Since then, thousands of articles, briefs, and court decisions in the US and other countries have cited as a matter of course to Justinian and Matthew Hale and argued for the relevance of the doctrine to various environmental issues (Fred Shapiro counts 856 citing legal articles).

As Rose explained in her 1998 symposium article, Sax's 1970 article can be understood as his response to ascendant theories of agency capture of the regulatory process and then-new public choice theory, which provided an explanation of the ability of small but cohesive groups to dominate the policy-making process to the detriment of the wider public interest. The public trust doctrine as advanced by Sax was less about property (as was the original doctrine) than about administrative law: Sax wanted courts to be wary of the regulatory process that often sacrificed public good to private interest.

Sax's passing is an opportunity to reflect on the fact that even ubiquitous and seemingly timeless legal ideas have a history, and that history includes not just formal sources of law, but also scholars and others who mold it and change it to fit changing times. It is also an opportunity to be grateful for the deep and wide body of public-minded scholarship (see Doremus's post) left for us by this giant of the law.

More on "The Mortal Sea"

A while back we re-posted George Conk's review of W. Jeffrey Bolster's award-winning The Mortal Sea - Fishing the Atlantic in the Age of Sail (Harvard UP, 2012). Now Environmental History has a review of the book by Michael J. Chiarappa. From the review:

Desiring “to write the ocean into history,” Bolster connects the fate of the northwest Atlantic's ecosystem to critical European antecedents that have not been fully examined in a transatlantic context. Given the depletion that had occurred in their home waters, sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Europeans gradually brought the northwest Atlantic's abundance—indeed, a stark contrast to the Old World's crippled marine ecosystem—into their commercial orbit. As permanent settlement ensued along the New England coastline, fishing effort began restructuring the sea's biomass by targeting species that were within ready reach—anadromous fish, sea mammals, and waterfowl, as well as nearby stocks of cod and mackerel. Sublime abundance, accompanied by a providential mindset, fueled these early use patterns. But Bolster challenges us not to be overly seduced by this narrative, and instead, to consider the rumblings of a nascent precautionary approach among New Englanders who still had Old World depletion fresh in their minds.

The paradox of precautionary sentiment, of wanting to fish but also wanting to preserve fish, runs throughout The Mortal Sea. In the nineteenth century, more efficient harvesting technology sharpened these debates in both tone and substance as signature sea fishes such as cod and mackerel showed stress, along with their forage base, menhaden. In a political and cultural climate that was hardly inclined to deny fishing rights, competing claims and perspectives devolved along various lines, but one loomed large: whose experience, be it small-scale fishermen, scientists, politicians, or capital-intensive fishing firms, would exert authority and be credibly accounted for in reckoning the increasingly complicated environmental politics of the northwest Atlantic?

The public trust doctrine and origin stories

Michael Blumm and Mary Wood have posted Chapter 1 of their forthcoming The Public Trust Doctrine in Environmental and Natural Resources Law (Carolina Academic Press, 2013) on SSRN. According to the abstract, this casebook has a strong historical component:

The public trust doctrine (PTD) is an ancient property law doctrine which first surfaced in Roman law in the Justinian Code, was revived in medieval England largely through the efforts of Sir Mathew Hale, and became entrenched in American law in the nineteenth century through the process of statehood. In the twentieth century, the doctrine became a favorite of the law professoriate and the environmental community for its potential to recognize public rights in private property. Thus, the doctrine both promotes public access to trust resources and justifies public regulation of them. It also equips the public with the right to challenge governments concerning their management of PTD resources.