Discrimination is a Comparative Injustice: A Reply to Hellman

In Two Concepts of Discrimination, Professor Hellman lucidly and systematically explains the difference between comparative and noncomparative conceptions of discrimination.[1] Although other legal scholars and philosophers have addressed the distinction between comparative and noncomparative justice,[2] she profitably applies the distinction to current controversies about the meaning and scope of antidiscrimination norms in statutory and equal protection law. Her approach is largely conceptual and interpretive, identifying the categories and reasoning that courts and legal scholars have employed. However, she also critiques aspects of that reasoning.

Hellman believes that her analysis illuminates a number of issues in contemporary constitutional discrimination jurisprudence. In her view, it explains why the supposed clash between equal protection doctrine and Title VII’s disparate impact approach is illusory, why equal protection doctrine is ambivalent about whether irrational government action is constitutionally problematic, and why equal protection and due process reasoning should only sometimes be combined.

There is much to admire in Hellman’s article. She carefully elucidates important conceptual and doctrinal distinctions, demonstrates a subtle and insightful appreciation of the complexities of equal protection doctrine, and is scrupulously fair in enunciating arguments that she ultimately rejects.

This Essay offers some friendly criticisms of her approach. I share her belief that the distinction between comparative and noncomparative justice is critical for understanding constitutional doctrine.[3] I disagree, however, about how, and even whether, that distinction should apply to antidiscrimination norms. And I do not believe that her analysis fully succeeds in explaining the three contemporary issues that she highlights.

A. The Distinction Between Comparative and Noncomparative Injustice

A comparative conception of injustice asserts that whether X has been unjustly treated depends on how others have been (or would have been) treated. A noncomparative conception asserts that whether X has been unjustly treated does not depend on the treatment of others. Hellman applies this distinction to the moral and legal problem of wrongful discrimination, arguing that courts and scholars have employed both conceptions here as well.

Why does this distinction matter? For several reasons, according to Hellman (with which I largely agree). First, for purposes of understanding the scope and content of the right, a comparative right is defined by reference to how others are treated. Second, as a substantive matter, deeper egalitarian norms explain why this formal or structural feature matters morally or legally. Here, Hellman “proposes” that the relevant substantive value is the duty to treat people “as equals.”[4] This, she suggests, is the substantive value upon which our equal protection doctrine actually relies.[5] However, as we will see, appealing to this particular substantive understanding of the norm underlying equal protection is more controversial than Hellman may realize.

Third, Hellman points out that comparative and noncomparative rights entail different remedies.[6] A comparative injustice can be remedied either by leveling up or by leveling down (or, I would add, by any intermediate remedy that corrects the inequality[7]), while remedying a noncomparative injustice requires leveling up, in the sense of giving the aggrieved person what she is entitled to. Thus, if a judge is sentencing two individuals A and B whose participation in a crime is identical in all relevant respects, but the judge has discretion to give any sentence between five and ten years, the judge commits a comparative injustice if he sentences A to five years and B to ten years. The inequality can be remedied either by increasing A’s sentence to ten years or by decreasing B’s to five (or by imposing any equal, intermediate sentence). But if, in a different, noncomparative case, a judge sentences C to seven years when, as a matter of statutory or constitutional law, C is entitled to a five-year sentence, the only proper remedy is to impose the five-year sentence.

I agree that different remedies flow from comparative and noncomparative rights,[8] but I think that Hellman’s account overstates the difference. If a noncomparative right actually creates a moral or legal entitlement to a particular treatment (as in the example of C’s sentence), then of course it follows that only that treatment satisfies the right. But not all noncomparative rights create specific entitlements. In the sentencing example, suppose the judge has discretion to sentence C to between three and five years, and further suppose that a sentence within that range is consistent with C’s noncomparative right to be punished according to his just deserts. Then, any sentence within that range respects C’s noncomparative rights (both C’s right that the sentencing judge respect the statutory limits and C’s right to be treated according to C’s just deserts). And conversely, a comparative right can create a specific entitlement. For example, if a person violates the Age Discrimination in Employment Act or the Equal Pay Act, the remedy requires leveling up.[9]

Although it should not be controversial that some constitutional and legal rights are concerned with comparative injustice and others with noncomparative injustice, what is controversial is Hellman’s central claim in this article—that the wrong of discrimination can be explicated either as comparative or noncomparative. By definition, wrongful discrimination refers to unjustified distinctions between persons. How can this wrong be understood as noncomparative? The very basis of the complaint is the claimed injustice of differential treatment. As Hellman notes, “[T]he independent [noncomparative] conception of discrimination makes the term ‘discrimination’ lose its moral resonance.”[10]

But Hellman is on solid ground in reporting that some scholars and judges do appear to characterize the wrong of discrimination as noncomparative. This is especially true, she notes, of many advocates of an “anticlassification” approach to racial discrimination, an approach that treats differential treatment in favor of minorities (such as affirmative action) with as much suspicion or disfavor as differential treatment that burdens minorities.[11] Those who take this stance sometimes claim that it is wrongful for a decision maker (such as a government, university, or employer) to consider race in any way in making a decision about allocating benefits or burdens. And, at first blush, a right not to have race considered in a decision affecting you looks like a noncomparative right: We need not examine how others are treated in order to determine whether your right was violated.

Nevertheless, I believe that it is implausible to characterize a supposed right to be free of race-based or gender-based decision making as a noncomparative right. At the same time, the reasons why this characterization might seem plausible deserve careful attention, for they reveal a greater complexity in the structure and justification of comparative rights than first appears.

Let us examine more closely the claim that a right to have race ignored is a noncomparative right. How would this claim arise? A white applicant to a university complains that he was rejected while a minority applicant with the same qualifications was admitted. This, of course, is a complaint of unfair comparative disadvantage. Take away that disadvantage and the complaint evaporates. The complaint is not that race was considered simpliciter. It is that race was considered to the complainant’s detriment.[12]

I suspect that Hellman finds a comparative account of the “color-blind” principle to be unpersuasive because she finds the principle itself unpersuasive. However, the question she is addressing is not normative (whether the principle itself is justifiable), but interpretive (how advocates of the principle explain and justify it). Many advocates of the principle do interpret it as a comparative principle, forbidding (or subjecting to serious scrutiny) any classification that disadvantages persons on the basis of race, and it is indeed a coherent exemplar of a comparative right. Other advocates worry that permitting racial preferences will aggravate racial and social divisions,[13] will stigmatize the recipients as inferior,[14] or will require the use of offensive racial criteria reminiscent of Nazi criteria for identifying Jews.[15] These, too, are justifications based on the comparative conception of discrimination, for they focus on the perceived undesirable, inegalitarian effects of permitting race-conscious programs. Although I ultimately share Hellman’s view that the “color-blind” principle is not the best understanding of our constitutional doctrine or of the egalitarian norms that should govern us, these are entirely different questions.

We have seen that the typical complaint against programs of racial preference depends on the complainant suffering a detriment relative to the preferred group. But can we imagine a case in which a racial classification is employed yet members of a particular race are not disadvantaged? Suppose that in 2017, the IRS requires blacks to file taxes on April 1, and whites on April 15. The following year, whites must file on April 1, and blacks on April 15, and so on for future years. This policy does seem troublesome, and perhaps it does reflect a noncomparative right not to have race employed as a criterion in government decision making.[16] However, the difficulty of constructing an example of this sort suggests two things. First, I seriously doubt that the principal concern of those who object to affirmative action programs is the mere use of race. Rather, they are disturbed by the favorable treatment of minority applicants relative to white applicants in securing a competitive position (such as a job or admission to a university). Second, even in this unusual IRS example, the reason that the use of an explicit racial classification is troublesome is, at least in part, a concern about unjustified inequality. The social significance of racial categories in American history cannot be overstated. In light of that tragic and divisive history, employing racial categories for administrative convenience when so many other, less divisive categories could just as easily be used is problematic: It demonstrates indifference to that history and might perpetuate and aggravate racial divisions. In short, I believe that the deeper explanation for our unease at employing racial categories, even those that do not create winners and losers, is an egalitarian, comparative principle.

To be sure, some advocates of the color-blind or anticlassification view articulate another rationale for their view: the principle that citizens should be treated as individuals, rather than as members of a racial group. Hellman reminds us that this was an important rationale for Justice Lewis Powell’s famous and dispositive opinion in the affirmative action case Regents of the University of California v. Bakke.[17] Hellman characterizes this rationale as noncomparative. I demur. The rationale is comparative, because it rests on the impropriety of treating a person as equal to others in the same (racial) category. At the same time, the underlying claim of comparative right here is not to equal treatment or treatment as an equal. Rather, the claim is to be treated differently from others in the category, in accordance with and in proportion to one’s individual (nonracial) characteristics.[18]

Like Hellman, I believe that the supposed right to individual treatment is not the best explanation of opposition to preferential treatment programs. Opponents surely do not believe that the state is generally disabled from using rational but imperfect proxies for relevant qualities, such as minimum age requirements for driving or voting, or grade point averages and standardized test scores as criteria for university admission.[19] Rather, they judge the use of racial categories to be especially problematic. Nevertheless, if someone truly believes that using overinclusive categories or failing to consider a wide range of individual characteristics is an affront to justice, it is important to see that this belief presupposes a comparative conception of justice.[20]

Following her discussion of the supposedly noncomparative right to be free from race-based classifications, Hellman turns to a different right that, she claims, is grounded in a noncomparative conception of the wrong of discrimination—the right to be free from gender stereotyping.[21] She rightly points out that in many gender discrimination cases, the Supreme Court focuses not on whether a law relies on a generalization that is too loose or inaccurate, but instead on the content of the generalization, and whether the gender stereotype confines individuals to particular gender roles—assuming, for example, that women are more caring than men and thus more suitable nurses, or that men are better suited for the rough and adversarial educational environment in a military academy. Hellman then asserts: “The antistereotyping principle found in sex discrimination cases rests on the view that each person (male or female) has an independent, noncomparative right to define his or her gender identity for him or herself.”[22]

The assertion does not follow from Hellman’s analysis. The Court has not recognized a general right of an individual to define his or her own identity in all respects. Yes, it is plausible to view the Court’s cases as recognizing the more specific right to define one’s gender identity, but notice that such a right is inherently comparative. It is a right not to be limited to “fixed notions concerning the roles and abilities of males and females”[23] such as “the pervasive sex-role stereotype that caring for family members is women’s work.”[24] One cannot make sense of the wrong of confining individuals to fixed gender roles without appreciating that such roles draw distinctions, presumptively treating men differently from women. Once again, a supposedly noncomparative right turns out to be comparative in structure and content.

To be sure, the right to define one’s own gender identity is a right that all citizens enjoy. But a universal right is not necessarily a noncomparative right. If, as in this instance, the rationale for the right is to avoid comparative injustice, then the right should be characterized as comparative.

B. The Doctrinal Implications of Hellman’s Analysis

In the final sections of her article, Hellman reviews three doctrinal issues that, she argues, reveal the payoff of the earlier analysis. I will suggest that her analysis helpfully illuminates the third issue she examines, but sheds less light upon the first and second.

1. Is Disparate Impact at Odds with Equal Protection?

First, Hellman addresses the question whether disparate impact and equal protection are at odds. Some scholars and judges, she observes, have proclaimed that these doctrines are in serious tension: Title VII’s disparate impact doctrine encourages employers to focus on whether an employment practice produces disparities disadvantaging minorities or women, but equal protection doctrine may prohibit employers from changing their practices for the purpose of reducing disparities. Equal protection might have this implication if it is understood as prohibiting, or subjecting to strict scrutiny, any race-based classification. Much more troubling, Hellman notes, is a further implication of this approach: Even facially neutral programs, such as efforts by schools to reduce the racial achievement gap by offering universal pre-kindergarten or efforts to reduce racial disparities in housing or healthcare, might violate equal protection, because the intent to reduce racial disparities is arguably an illegitimate purpose on this color-blind understanding of the demands of equal protection.

Hellman argues that this supposed tension, asserted by advocates of the anticlassification approach, between equal protection and disparate impact doctrine (and other policies intended to reduce racial disparities) rests on a conceptual mistake. These advocates are improperly combining a legitimate comparative right (the right not to be subject to a policy intended to harm or disadvantage a racial group) with a controversial noncomparative right (the right not to have race taken into account in how one is treated). As she explains:

[T]he claim that awareness of racial impact violates equal protection[[25]] derives from a flawed conflation of the two conceptions of the wrongful discrimination. It takes the prohibition on racial categories from the noncomparative view and the focus on intention from the comparative view and grafts them together to form a hybrid argument that, though full of sound and fury, signifies nothing.

    . . . .

            . . . [T]hese two facets of our doctrine (the focus on intention and the prohibition on racial classification) derive from different, competing accounts of what makes discrimination wrong. They cannot be fruitfully combined.[26]

The focus on intention, she claims, is a plausible comparative right when it means an intent to harm or disadvantage, but not when it means an intent to classify on the basis of race, because “[t]here is simply nothing obviously wrong with intending to classify on the basis of race.”[27]

I agree with Hellman’s conclusion, that equal protection should not be understood to prohibit race-conscious efforts to reduce racial hierarchies or racial disparities, especially when the programs adopted to further these ends are themselves racially neutral. But I do not believe that the conclusion follows from her premises. In the first place, as I suggested above, the right not to have race taken into account is quite plausibly understood as a comparative rather than a noncomparative right. In claiming that there is nothing obviously wrong with intending to classify on the basis of race, Hellman is asserting her own (quite defensible) normative view, but she thereby departs from the interpretive, rather than normative, stance that she otherwise takes in this article. (Note, too, that she could similarly state that there is nothing obviously wrong with classifying on the basis of race; yet she is willing to credit the anticlassification principle as a coherent, though unpersuasive, understanding of the wrong of discrimination.)

Secondly, even if the anticlassification principle is understood as a noncomparative right, Hellman has offered no argument why comparative and noncomparative right claims should not be combined, either in this context or more generally.[28] In many situations, combining these different types of rights is perfectly acceptable. Recall the earlier example in which comparative equality principles provide that defendant A should receive the same sentence as defendant B because their participation in a criminal endeavor is identical. Now suppose the judge has already sentenced A to three years, but the judge then determines that she should have sentenced A to five years. And suppose that a noncomparative principle provides that, once A has been sentenced, A’s sentence may not be increased. Then, the judge could legitimately combine the comparative and noncomparative principles and sentence B to three years.

2. Why We Are Confused About Rationality Review

Hellman next addresses why courts and commentators are so confused about whether rationality review is toothless or instead has some bite, and, if the latter, about when it has bite. She concludes that the Equal Protection Clause protects individuals from irrational government action under the noncomparative conception of discrimination but not under the comparative conception. Under the latter, she believes, genuine arbitrariness is not a constitutional problem.

Specifically, she reasons that if a law irrationally differentiates—for example, by forbidding opticians from fitting lenses without a prescription but permitting makers of ready-to-wear glasses to fit lenses[29]—then those who are burdened are burdened for no good reason. “If this is a constitutional problem, it is a problem because people have an independent, noncomparative right that state action that burdens their liberty does so for a reason.”[30] However, such irrationality is not, she claims, a comparative wrong.

These claims are surprising and, in the end, unconvincing. To be sure, some laws are irrational and constitutionally problematic for noncomparative reasons. The clearest example would be a law that burdens everyone for no reason. Realistic instances are difficult to conjure up, but suppose a dictator, on a whim, requires everyone (including himself) to stand still for an hour every day. More realistically, suppose that a government official refuses to do his duty unless he is bribed. He does have a reason, but an illegitimate one, for demanding a bribe. And we might reasonably conclude that he wrongs each citizen from whom he demands a bribe, regardless of how he treats other citizens.

But why does Hellman conclude that a similarly arbitrary or illegitimate reason for comparatively unequal treatment is not a distinctive constitutional problem? After all, if the dictator requires only some people to stand still every day, or demands bribes only of some citizens, he has evidently introduced a new problem: the problem of unjust inequality in treatment.

Here is her explanation. In the case of stupid, arbitrary laws that burden some but not all people for no reason (or no good or legitimate reason), the right that is infringed is the noncomparative right not to have your liberty restricted without good reason, not the comparative right not to be treated differently without good reason. Hellman offers the following example. Due to stupidity and with no factual basis, a university gives preference in admissions to students who wear glasses. This policy, she says, restricts the liberty of students without glasses for no good reason and thus rests on a noncomparative right. But the policy does not fail to treat those affected as equals (and thus does not violate a comparative right) because it is simply bad luck that some people with good vision are disadvantaged by this crazy policy, and comparative equality rights are not concerned with mere bad luck.

This explanation is unpersuasive. First, it is not clear that the noncomparative “liberty” interests of university applicants are infringed by irrational policies. Hellman here assumes without argument a broad understanding both of “liberty” and of what counts as an infringement.[31] Second, she also assumes without sufficient argument a narrower understanding of what counts as an infringement of a comparative equality right. Why must any coherent conception of a comparative equality right treat disadvantage due to stupid or arbitrary criteria as “bad luck” for which the decision maker is not responsible? It is hardly a matter of “luck” that students with good vision are disadvantaged by the foolish policy: This effect of the policy is entirely foreseeable, and the decision maker can readily avoid the effect simply by repealing the policy. The “mere bad luck” view is even more implausible in scenarios where the disadvantage is more significant than loss of a chance to be admitted to a university: suppose a judge sentences B to a longer sentence than similarly situated A simply because she dislikes B’s hairdo.

I suspect that the real explanation for Hellman’s willingness to recognize a noncomparative right not to be burdened for no reason and unwillingness to recognize an analogous comparative right not to be disadvantaged for no reason is that, as a normative matter, she is disposed to endorse the first right but not the second. She apparently views the Dworkinian right to be treated as an equal as a right that addresses only relatively serious forms of injustice, not trivial inequalities. In her recent book, she espouses the view that this egalitarian norm is best understood as prohibiting classifications that express denigration of a subgroup of citizens,[32] and foolish and ineffective laws are not demeaning. Hellman’s is a very plausible view of when discrimination is especially wrong. But, for purposes of the interpretive task that she sets for herself in the current article, it is unpersuasive to claim that other forms of discrimination, including irrational differential treatment for insufficient reason, are not genuine violations of comparative equality rights.

The final example Hellman offers in her irrational treatment section is the so-called “class of one” problem. Courts have struggled with the question whether, if the government intentionally treats a single citizen B differently from, and less favorably than, the way the government treated another, similarly situated citizen A in the past, this violates equal protection—for example, the government requires an easement from B but not from A as a condition of granting a permit. Hellman characterizes this as a question of the noncomparative right of B not to be treated irrationally. But the issue in these cases is comparative: whether the difference in treatment is irrational. There is typically no question in these cases that the government could rationally (and constitutionally) have decided in the first instance to impose the same burden on A that it later imposed on B. It is thus difficult to see why she believes this category of cases exemplifies a noncomparative rather than comparative right.

To be sure, rational basis tests are controversial. It is a difficult and important question whether, when legislation does not infringe fundamental rights and does not employ suspect or quasi-suspect traits, constitutional constraints should be completely, extremely, or only modestly deferential.[33] But the question is not resolved by whether we characterize the constraint as comparative or noncomparative. A comparative right can be robust or deferential,[34] and the same is true of a noncomparative right.

3. When Should Equal Protection and Due Process Analysis Be Combined?

The final payoff that Hellman identifies from her analysis is how to make sense of cases, including the recent cases of Lawrence v. Texas[35] and Obergefell v. Hodges[36], that combine equal protection and due process analyses. Here, I find Hellman’s approach illuminating. As she explains, a comparative view of the wrong of discrimination treats equal protection as requiring a comparative analysis, while due process requires a noncomparative analysis. In Skinner v. Oklahoma,[37] for example, the comparative view treats procreative capacity as a fundamental interest that requires strict scrutiny if it is differentially burdened, but not simply because it is burdened. By contrast, on a noncomparative view of discrimination, both equal protection and due process require noncomparative analysis. On this view, the problem in Skinner is the noncomparative burden, apart from how others are treated. Similarly, the undifferentiated emphasis on “dignity” in some recent Supreme Court cases is problematic on the comparative view of discrimination, because the term might encompass either a comparative right (to be treated with respect in a nondemeaning way) or a noncomparative right (to have control of one’s own destiny including one’s sexual autonomy).[38] But this lack of differentiation is not problematic on the noncomparative view, because both the Equal Protection and Due Process Clauses focus on whether the claimant has an independent entitlement to be treated in a particular way. On the noncomparative view, Hellman explains, the fact that some are burdened and others are not “may make the underlying rights deprivation salient but it isn’t what makes it wrong.”[39] In the recent Obergefell opinion, for example, although the court refers to both equal protection and due process analysis, its references to equal protection are largely in service of identifying the important liberty interest at stake when gay citizens are denied the right to marry.

Although I largely agree with this analysis, conceiving of a noncomparative right as creating an “independent entitlement” can be misleading for reasons already noted. A noncomparative right does not invariably create an unconditional entitlement. Rather, the entitlement is sometimes conditional, especially when the decision maker has discretion whether to provide the benefit (or alleviate the burden) in question. For example, statutes burdening the fundamental interest in a meaningful appeal of a state criminal conviction can be understood as problematic for noncomparative reasons without assuming that there is a constitutional right to such an appeal. The wrong is still noncomparative if the injustice of conditioning an appeal on the ability to pay a fee does not depend on how others are treated. On this view, such a fee requirement is akin to a requirement that forbids all defendants, rich or poor, from furnishing a trial transcript to the appellate court.[40] Thus, the noncomparative view espoused by Justice Harlan in equal protection-fundamental interest cases could apply even in cases where the interest at issue is constitutionally optional.[41] Similarly, state governments are free to decide to get out of the business of recognizing marriages entirely, leaving “marriage” as a religious rather than secular, civil law category. In that sense, the right to marry is constitutionally optional. But once the state recognizes marriage and permits significant social, legal, and economic benefits to flow to married persons, it has a noncomparative duty not to deny that status to persons unless it has a very weighty reason to do so.

Finally, the Obergefell opinion, although focused on the denial of the freedom to marry, also emphasizes egalitarian concerns, including the concern that excluding gays from marriage demeans and stigmatizes them. And it is telling that the court’s actual holding is framed in comparative terms: “[T]he State laws challenged by Petitioners in these cases are now held invalid to the extent they exclude same-sex couples from civil marriage on the same terms and conditions as opposite-sex couples.”[42] Insofar as states are free to impose a significant range of conditions and restrictions upon marriage, and insofar as states differ considerably from one another in the nature and scope of these restrictions, we must conclude that the noncomparative right to marry, although rhetorically important in Obergefell, is not a complete explanation of the scope of the Court’s ruling.

Conclusion

Despite my disagreements with Professor Hellman about how one should draw the distinction between comparative and noncomparative injustice and about the implications of that distinction, I share her view that the distinction is crucial in identifying the scope and content of, and the justifications for, specific legal rights not to suffer discrimination. Any satisfactory account of the wrong of discrimination must attend to the important questions she raises in this perceptive and original article.

 


[1]Deborah Hellman, Two Concepts of Discrimination, 102 Va. L. Rev. 895, 897 (2016).

[2]See, e.g., Joel Feinberg, Noncomparative Justice, 83 Phil. Rev. 297, 298 (1974); Kent Greenawalt, “Prescriptive Equality”: Two Steps Forward, 110 Harv. L. Rev. 1265, 1266 (1997); Raleigh Hannah Levine & Russell Pannier, Comparative and Noncomparative Justice: Some Guidelines for Constitutional Adjudication, 14 Wm. & Mary Bill Rts. J. 141, 188 n.152 (2005); Derek Parfit, Equality or Priority?, in The Ideal of Equality 81, 81–125 (Matthew Clayton & Andrew Williams eds., 2000); Peter Westen, The Empty Idea of Equality, 95 Harv. L. Rev. 537, 551–52 (1982).

[3]See Kenneth W. Simons, Equality as a Comparative Right, 65 B.U. L. Rev. 387, 450, 461 (1985) [hereinafter Simons, Comparative Right]; Kenneth W. Simons, The Logic of Egalitarian Norms, 80 B.U. L. Rev. 693, 709–10, 763 (2000) [hereinafter Simons, Logic].

[4]Hellman, supra note 1, at 901–03. This formulation, the right to be treated “as an equal,” derives from Professor Ronald Dworkin and his notion of the right to be treated with equal concern and respect. See Ronald Dworkin, Taking Rights Seriously 227 (1977) (“If I have two children, and one is dying from a disease that is making the other uncomfortable, I do not show equal concern if I flip a coin to decide which should have the remaining dose of a drug. This example shows that the right to treatment as an equal is fundamental, and the right to equal treatment, derivative. In some circumstances the right to treatment as an equal will entail a right to equal treatment, but not, by any means, in all circumstances.”).

[5]Hellman, supra note 1, at 902 n.18.

[6]Id. at 917.

[7]See Simons, Logic, supra note 3, at 711.

[8]One important complication here is that the appropriately flexible remedy depends on the nature of the comparative right. For example, because it is comparatively unjust to exclude black citizens from a public swimming pool, it might seem that the injustice can be remedied either by admitting both blacks and whites or instead by closing the pool. See Palmer v. Thompson, 403 U.S. 217, 227 (1971). However, it is also plausible to characterize the action of denying a benefit to both blacks and whites for an impermissible racist reason as a comparative injustice, as Hellman recognizes. See Hellman, supra note 1, at 917 & n.61; Simons, Comparative Right, supra note 3, at 431–33.

[9]The Age Discrimination in Employment Act, 29 U.S.C. § 623 (2012), provides: “It shall be unlawful for an employer” to discriminate against an employee because of the employee’s age or “to reduce the wage rate of any employee in order to comply with this chapter.” The Equal Pay Act, which addresses certain forms of sex discrimination in employment, similarly forbids leveling down as a remedy. Equal Pay Act of 1963, 29 U.S.C. § 206(d)(1) (2012) (“[A]n employer who is paying a wage rate differential in violation of this subsection shall not, in order to comply with the [nondiscrimination] provisions of this subsection, reduce the wage rate of any employee.”).

[10]Hellman, supra note 1, at 909.

[11]Id. at 914–17.

[12]Hellman states:

The anticlassification approach isn’t focused on the comparison between two cases—on the fact that X, a white applicant, is rejected while Y, a comparable black applicant, is accepted. Rather the focus of the anticlassification approach is on the single case and the fact that race was a factor that affected its outcome.

Id. at 917. But, in order for race to “affect the outcome,” it must be the case that some individuals were advantaged or disadvantaged by race relative to others. Moreover, it is difficult to believe that most critics of affirmative action and other preferential treatment programs are unconcerned with the fact that nonpreferred applicants lose a benefit that preferred applicants obtain.

[13]Justice Powell raises this concern in his opinion in Regents of the University of California v. Bakke, 438 U.S. 265, 298–99 (1978), discussed below: “Disparate constitutional tolerance of [benign as opposed to invidious racial] classifications well may serve to exacerbate racial and ethnic antagonisms rather than alleviate them.” Similarly, in the Supreme Court’s most recent affirmative action decision, the dissent characterizes the use of racial criteria as “noxious” and “pernicious.” Fisher v. Univ. of Tex. at Austin, No. 14-981, slip op. at 32, 51 (U.S. June 23, 2016) (Alito, J., dissenting).

[14]See Grutter v. Bollinger, 539 U.S. 306, 373 (2003) (Thomas, J., dissenting).

[15]See Fullilove v. Klutznick, 448 U.S. 448, 534 n.5 (1980) (Stevens, J., dissenting) (“[T]he very attempt to define with precision a beneficiary’s qualifying racial characteristics is repugnant to our constitutional ideals. . . . If the National Government is to make a serious effort to define racial classes by criteria that can be administered objectively, it must study precedents such as the First Regulation to the Reichs Citizenship Law of November 14, 1935 . . . .”). Justice Stevens then describes the Nuremberg laws, which defined “Jew” according to such criteria as parentage, marriage, and belonging to a Jewish religious community. Id. at 534–35 n.5.

[16]This example bears some similarity to Professor Paul Brest’s famous example of a school principal instructing black students to sit on the left side of the auditorium and white students on the right side for purportedly aesthetic reasons. In Hellman’s view, such an order demeans black students. Deborah Hellman, When is Discrimination Wrong? 25–27 (2008).

[17]438 U.S. at 299.

[18]For discussion of the comparative right to proportional treatment, see Simons, Comparative Right, supra note 3, at 437–46.

[19]See Hellman, supra note 16, at 116, 136–37.

[20]The short-lived “irrebuttable presumption” due process doctrine reflected this concern about overbroad classifications that fail to treat a person as an individual. See Kenneth W. Simons, Overinclusion and Underinclusion: A New Model, 36 UCLA L. Rev. 447, 514–18 (1989).

    The idea that one should be treated according to all of one’s relevant individual characteristics is, of course, highly impractical. How could a decision maker feasibly measure all those characteristics? This idea also fails to solve the problem of imperfect proxies. Suppose a university admissions office permits applicants to provide any information that they believe is relevant to admission, and the office carefully reviews all of that information. The office would still need to determine criteria of relevance and significance in comparing this applicant to others. But whatever criteria are used can then be criticized as imperfectly furthering or constituting the university’s goals or mission. For further discussion, see Hellman, supra note 16, ch. 5; Simons, Comparative Right, supra note 3, at 439–40.

[21]Hellman, supra note 1, at 918–21.

[22]Id. at 920.

[23]Id. at 919 (quoting Miss. Univ. for Women v. Hogan, 458 U.S. 718, 725 (1982)).

[24]Id. (quoting Nev. Dep’t of Human Res. v. Hibbs, 538 U.S. 721, 731 (2003)).

[25]Here, Hellman frames her conclusion in a misleading and exaggerated way. She objects to “the claim that awareness of racial impact violates equal protection,” id. at 924, and to the argument “that equal protection prohibits the awareness of racial impact that disparate impact requires.” Id. at 900. But no one claims that awareness alone is unconstitutional. Rather, the claim is that actors violate equal protection if they possess that awareness and then engage in intentional efforts to reduce or ameliorate racial disparities. This claim, although still ultimately unpersuasive, is much more plausible.

[26]Id. at 924–28.

[27]Id. at 929.

[28]Indeed, later in the article, Hellman states: “[T]he fundamental interests-equal protection line of cases offers an example of how comparative and noncomparative claims can be fruitfully combined—in a manner that is clear about the distinct values that are in play.” Id. at 944.

[29]Williamson v. Lee Optical, 348 U.S. 483, 488–89 (1955).

[30]Hellman, supra note 1, at 933.

[31]Earlier, Hellman asserts that a “promising candidate” for the source of a noncomparative right not to suffer discrimination is the “right to (some degree of) freedom or autonomy.” Id. at 913–14. I agree that such a right is very often a plausible source, but property rights are another source, as in the “class of one” cases discussed infra.

[32]Hellman, supra note 16, ch. 2; see Hellman, supra note 1, at 905–06.

[33]For a recent argument that the rational basis test should be strengthened to require proof of an actual rather than conceivable permissible purpose and of a meaningful relationship between means and ends, see Erwin Chemerinsky, The Rational Basis Test Is Constitutional (and Desirable), Geo. J.L. & Pub. Pol’y (forthcoming 2016) (manuscript at 10–11), http://ssrn.com/abstrac‌t=2782109 [https://perma.cc/XB27-M7FE].

[34]See Simons, Logic, supra note 3, at 759–61.

[35]539 U.S. 558, 564 (2003).

[36]135 S. Ct. 2584, 2602–03 (2015).

[37]316 U.S. 535, 536 (1942).

[38] See, e.g., United States v. Windsor, 133 S. Ct. 2675, 2692 (finding an injury to a person’s dignity to be a violation of the Fifth Amendment).

[39]Hellman, supra note 1, at 947.

[40]See Simons, Comparative Right, supra note 3, at 470–71.

[41]Hellman, supra note 1, at 948.

[42]135 S. Ct. at 2605 (emphasis added).

Pragmatism and Principle: Intelligence Agencies and International Law

“The hell with international law,” Secretary of State Dean Acheson reportedly said during the Cuban Missile Crisis. “It’s just a series of precedents and decisions that have been made in the past.”[1] Although arising in a different context, Secretary Acheson’s observation also aptly summarizes the traditional attitude of states toward international law and intelligence gathering. Intelligence activities are a prime candidate for legal pragmatism—and especially its skepticism toward doctrine.[2] More than this, as Professor Ashley Deeks asserts in her recent article in this publication,[3] commentators have often contested international law’s precise remit in relation to at least some intelligence activities. Reviewing much of this same literature, I have argued that “the international community seems content with an artful ambiguity on the question.”[4] A more recent assessment points to international law’s “policy of silence” as the starting point in understanding the discipline’s relationship to intelligence gathering.[5]

This uncertainty should not, however, be overstated. It has arisen most often, and most credibly, in relation to true intelligence activity in the narrow sense of information collection. “Intelligence” is the “product resulting from the collection, processing, integration, evaluation, analysis, and interpretation of available information concerning foreign nations, hostile or potentially hostile forces or elements, or areas of actual or potential operations.”[6] International law is usually silent in relation to even the most notorious aspect of intelligence—peacetime spying or espionage, through the covert collection of information outside of an armed conflict. And indeed, in the absence of definitive, subject-matter specific law in the area, analysts have arrived at dramatically different conclusions about international law’s relationship with spying.

For instance, in his review, Professor A. John Radsan partitions the academic commentaries on the topic into three categories: those that regard espionage as illegal; those that see it as “not illegal”; and those that describe espionage as neither legal nor illegal.[7] A fourth approach abandons the debate of whether “intelligence gathering” or “espionage” is per se legal or illegal and instead subdivides the world of intelligence collection into constituent state acts. That is, it disregards a preoccupation with form (“intelligence collection”) and instead examines law governing specific conduct (for example, invasive surveillance, conduct of diplomats, interrogation, and so forth).[8]

But international law is much less agnostic in relation to the exercise by states of physical powers on the territories of other states, or in relation to human beings—conduct that when done secretively may fall within the scope of what is generally called “covert action.” Covert action designed to directly affect or influence people or the course of events often engages primordial rules of international law, particularly those of state sovereignty and the concomitant prohibition on intervention in the affairs of other states. International law has not singled out covert action and imposed redundant injunctions against activities that would already be unlawful if done overtly. But the absence of an extra-special admonishment against covert action does not amount to the same silence identified by commentators in discussing the lawfulness of spying. The surreptitious nature of a state’s conduct does not change its legal status, although it may change the politics surrounding it. There is, therefore, no principled basis to conclude that covert action per se falls into an area in which, to quote the famous S.S. Lotus case, states are permitted a “wide measure of discretion.”[9]

That is not to say that covert action lacks for justifications. One defense of covert action against legal formalism may rely on exceptionalism, urging the virtue of the cause prompting states to exercise covert powers.[10] In this respect, covert action may sometimes be assigned the same label as NATO’s 1999 Kosovo air campaign: illegal, but legitimate.[11] A second, possibly related justification may be simple realpolitik. States will not tarry over legal formalism when supreme security interests are at stake. However, both exceptionalism and realpolitik are unappealing justifications in a multipolar world in which many states may now be in a position to partake in potentially destabilizing covert actions. Moreover, their simple invocation risks abandoning legal formalism without superimposing workable policy guidelines to regulate covert action.

Confronted with this problem, Professor W. Michael Reisman and Judge James Baker have described the “myth system” of international law—that is, its doctrine—and juxtaposed it with the quite different state practice in the area of covert actions.[12] Reconciling the doctrinal myths of international law with this “operational code” means “that determinations of lawfulness in particular cases must . . . use a more comprehensive, consequentialist, and policy-sensitive approach.”[13]

In her article, Professor Deeks takes up this challenge by dividing international law applicable to intelligence activities into two “baskets”: a basket of rules that “is relatively detailed and focuses on protecting individuals”—such as international humanitarian and human rights law—and a basket of state-focused “rules such as respect for state sovereignty and territorial integrity, [that] regulates state-to-state activity.”[14]

She then advocates a hybridized, sliding-scale approach to international law and intelligence activity, urging more robust legal compliance in relation to individual-protecting rules and a policy closer to realpolitik in relation to state-centric rules.[15] Her motivation for doing so is largely pragmatic: If legal formalism wishes to “gain traction among states with robust intelligence capacities, it must allow states to adapt their international law interpretations to the special circumstances engendered by secret state activities, accepting that states require greater flexibility in interpreting some bodies of international law.”[16]

In this Essay, I offer a response to this model and review the rules of international law as they relate to intelligence activities. In Part I, I dissect the concept of “intelligence activities” and distinguish international law as applicable to spying from that relevant to covert actions. I urge that while international law is silent on spying per se, it is engaged by specific activities that rise to the level of intervention in a state’s sovereign affairs and that transgress the bar on the extraterritorial exercise of enforcement jurisdiction. There are, therefore, international norms that may readily be violated by at least some sorts of covert actions, above and beyond human rights principles that protect individuals. Ambiguity exists, but should not be overclaimed.

In Part II, I contemplate the virtues of tempering legal formalism in favor of a sliding scale in the area of international law and intelligence activities. While sympathetic to the necessity for pragmatism, I ask whether the sliding scale may result in the weakening of norms better served by being honored in the breach rather than abandoned in the name of realism.

I. International Law and “Intelligence Activity”

Noting the difficulty of definition, Professor Deeks describes intelligence activity as “both intelligence collection and covert activities undertaken by intelligence services, except for uses of force that would implicate Article 2(4) of the U.N. Charter, such as targeted killings overseas.”[17] This definition sweeps wide, and on its face includes everything that falls short of the threat or use of force against another state’s territorial integrity or political independence prohibited by Article 2(4), from open-source information collection to even covert assassinations. This is especially true if “covert action” is defined in accordance with U.S. law: “[A]n activity or activities of the United States Government to influence political, economic, or military conditions abroad, where it is intended that the role of the United States Government will not be apparent or acknowledged publicly.”[18]

A. A Typology of Intelligence

Most commentators focusing on international law and intelligence activities have defined their subject matter more narrowly than Professor Deeks, confining their topic to spying, “peacetime espionage,” or surreptitious intelligence collection.[19] Here, there is little doubt that international law contains no emphatic prohibitions. Where their discussions touch on covert actions, observers have often been much less equivocal about international law’s uncertainty.[20] Put another way, there is a regularly accepted legal dichotomy between spying and covert activity. On the spying side of that divide, international law is largely silent, promoting efforts to piece together rules from various collateral international law disciplines.[21] There may be instances, for example, where methods of intelligence collection trigger international human rights law,[22] although claims in this area should not be exaggerated.[23] On the covert action side, international law is much more certain, a matter I discuss in the next Section.

B. International Law and Covert Action

The frequent starting point for many discussions of international law and both espionage and covert action is the Lotus principle, a reference to the Permanent Court of International Justice’s 1927 judgment in Turkey v. France.[24] Commentators have pointed to this case in urging, “what is not prohibited is permitted in international law.”[25] And building on this doctrine, Commander Michael Adams has urged the existence of a security-preoccupied jus extra bellum—the “state’s right outside of war.”[26]

But permissiveness as the default position on the exercise of state power does not displace rules that do prohibit, or at least constrain, its exercise. This indeed was the position reached by the International Court of Justice (“ICJ”), confronted with the Lotus principle in the Nuclear Weapons Advisory Case.[27]

1. Sovereignty and Nonintervention

Some covert actions that have consequences on individuals obviously engage human rights principles (for example, detention, disappearances, and torture). Here, however, I focus on a less precise but equally obvious constraint on covert action: sovereignty. Sovereignty contains several ingredients, one of which is the principle of nonintervention—part of customary international law.[28] Professor Deeks correctly observes that the precise content of the broad principles such as sovereignty and nonintervention can be nebulous.[29] There are, however, at least some markers. For instance, in Nicaragua v. United States, the ICJ concluded that, at minimum, the principle of nonintervention

forbids all States or groups of States to intervene directly or indirectly in internal or external affairs of other States. A prohibited intervention must accordingly be one bearing on matters in which each State is permitted, by the principle of State sovereignty, to decide freely. One of these is the choice of a political, economic, social and cultural system, and the formulation of foreign policy.[30]

In the particular context of the Nicaragua matter, the ICJ concluded that prohibited interventions included “methods of coercion,” even when these fell short of use of force.[31] On a similar basis, some commentators have concluded that to constitute unlawful intervention, “the interference must be forcible or dictatorial, or otherwise coercive, in effect depriving the state intervened against of control over the matter in question. Interference pure and simple is not intervention.”[32]

Notably, coercion in this context likely means more than direct, physical compulsion. As one authority describes it, “[c]oercion in inter-State relations involves the government of one State compelling the government of another State to think or act in a certain way by applying various kinds of pressure, threats, intimidation or the use of force.”[33] These strictures would clearly implicate some forms of covert action. Thus, commentators have suggested coercive interference includes manipulation of “elections or of public opinion on the eve of elections, as when online news services are altered in favour of a particular party, false news is spread, or the online services of one party are shut off.”[34]

2. Enforcement Jurisdiction

Noninterference is not the only international rule engaged by covert actions. The Lotus decision itself acknowledges more general boundaries. Right after asserting its famous adage that “[r]estrictions upon the independence of States cannot . . . be presumed,” the court voiced an equally famous observation:

[T]he first and foremost restriction imposed by international law upon a State is that—failing the existence of a permissive rule to the contrary—it may not exercise its power in any form in the territory of another State. In this sense jurisdiction is certainly territorial; it cannot be exercised by a State outside its territory except by virtue of a permissive rule derived from international custom or from a convention.[35]

The exercise of state power is known as “enforcement jurisdiction,” and the prohibition on the imposition of nonconsensual enforcement jurisdiction extraterritorially, that is, on the territory of another state, remains a bedrock principle of international law: “[T]he legal regime applicable to extraterritorial enforcement is quite straightforward. Without the consent of the host State such conduct is absolutely unlawful because it violates that State’s right to respect for its territorial integrity.”[36]

Because enforcement jurisdiction rules do impose definite limitations on the powers states may exercise on the territory of other states, the legality of the covert action depends entirely on its nature. International law certainly precludes nonconsensual, extraterritorial conduct jure imperii—that is, involving the exercise of government functions.[37] And so, it reaches a state’s use of physical force on the territory of another state (such as an arrest and abduction).[38] A state agent entering a foreign territory in his or her official capacity without permission also transgresses this standard.[39] As Professor Simon Chesterman argues, the limitation on extraterritorial enforcement jurisdiction

would clearly prohibit unauthorized entry into territory; it would also extend to unauthorized use of territory, such as Italian claims that CIA agents abducted an Egyptian cleric in Milan in February 2003 to send him to Egypt for questioning regarding alleged terrorist activities. It would also cover the use of territorial airspace to transfer such persons as part of a programme of ‘extraordinary renditions.’[40]

The most famous exercise of covert extraterritorial enforcement jurisdiction was the Israeli abduction of Nazi war criminal Adolph Eichmann in 1960, when Mossad agents covertly snatched Eichmann from Argentina.[41] Argentina’s foreign minister protested, declaring the conduct “contrary to international norms,”[42] while Argentina’s ambassador to the United Nations called the kidnapping an infringement of Argentina’s sovereignty.[43] Argentina submitted a complaint to the UN Security Council, precipitating an unusual resolution from the Council.[44] That resolution declared that acts such as the kidnapping “affect the sovereignty of a Member State,” “cause international friction,” and may “endanger international peace and security.”[45] The Security Council further called on Israel to offer reparations.[46] Following negotiations, Argentina and Israel settled the matter, but also issued a joint communiqué acknowledging the role of Israeli nationals in the breach of Argentine sovereignty.[47]

Eichmann-style abduction constitutes an unequivocal exercise of state powers. Some commentators further assert that because of the limitations on enforcement jurisdiction, states are “also disentitled to carry out investigations in a foreign country, if it is their purpose to pursue and enforce its prerogative rights such as its criminal, administrative or fiscal jurisdiction.”[48] Examples include “gathering information in one State for enforcing revenue laws of another State.”[49] More generally, without consent, a state may not “send its police officers, even if they are in civilian clothes, into foreign States to investigate crimes or make enquiries affecting investigations in their own country. Nor can it allow spies or informers to operate abroad.”[50]

As already noted, there is considerable doubt as to the validity of the last statement concerning spying. There is also a view that noncoercive, peaceful investigations undertaken by one state on the territory of another involving the collection of (at least) information concerning the antitrust and tax activities of its expatriates comply with international law.[51] It stands to reason, however, that the international legality of that investigation becomes more doubtful where the territorial state’s laws are breached in the course of the investigation. As one commentator urges in discussing extraterritorial state action, “the local law should be used to determine whether the pertinent exercise of sovereignty can be viewed as a valid exercise of State authority.”[52]

C. International Law and the Cyber Headache

Until recently, there was an obvious territorial element to covert actions—and indeed, almost all intelligence activity —that eased the assessment of legality. For instance, an agent was either acting physically on the territory of a foreign state, or not.

The communications revolution, however, has changed the physical locus of at least some state action and has therefore created awkward questions for geocentric international law. Does the simple act of a state reaching out from a computer on its own territory to penetrate a server in the territory of another violate the server state’s sovereignty? Does this amount to the exercise of extraterritorial enforcement jurisdiction?

The answers to these questions are not obvious. Certainly, the consequence of the hack may color the assessment of its legality. Considerable analysis has focused on whether a cyber act visiting physical damage on the receiving state constitutes a use of force within the meaning of jus ad bellum rules.[53] More difficult are circumstances when the penetration falls short of physical destructiveness, but involves the more passive co-option of, for instance, foreign government communications networks to monitor communications or spread corrupted data.

Intrusiveness of this sort plausibly amounts to the exercise of state power on the territory of another state, raising sovereignty concerns. In 2007, a Canadian Federal Court judge concluded that intrusive surveillance (presumably involving electronic wiretaps) conducted by the Canadian Security Intelligence Service (“CSIS”) on the territory of another state without its consent would violate that state’s sovereignty.[54] A second judge then distinguished that holding where the intercept, while directed abroad, took place entirely from Canadian soil.[55] It was never entirely clear to this author from the limited public record in this case how an intrusive intercept of a foreign communication could be done within Canada without reaching out (electronically) and hacking communications overseas, in presumptive violation of some foreign law. More significantly, subsequent controversy stemmed from CSIS’s nonobservance of this Canadian territorial expectation. CSIS, in coordination with Canada’s signals-intelligence service, outsourced the intercept function to (unnamed) “Five Eyes” partner intelligence agencies, which include the U.S. National Security Agency.[56] Intrusive surveillance was not, therefore, confined to the territory of Canada and was instead conducted by foreign partners.[57] Moreover, this intrusive surveillance by Five Eyes members was not limited to those agencies’ own territories and involved intrusive surveillance in third-party states.[58] In effect, CSIS had outsourced conduct that the first judge had viewed as inconsistent with international law.

The question of whether invasive (but nondestructive) cyber penetration of this sort truly breaches international law was addressed, in part, in the Tallinn Manual on International Law Applicable to Cyber Warfare.[59] A private project involving international experts, the Manual constitutes the most comprehensive treatment of the topic to date; however, it does not resolve the doubt. In keeping with the discussion above, the Manual urges, “international law does not address espionage per se. Thus, a State’s responsibility for an act of cyber espionage conducted by an organ of the State in cyberspace is not [to] be engaged as a matter of international law unless particular aspects of the espionage violate specific international legal prohibitions.”[60] On the topic of cyber operations going beyond spying, the Manual notes:

            A cyber operation by a State directed against cyber infrastructure located in another State may violate the latter’s sovereignty. It certainly does so if it causes damage. The International Group of Experts could achieve no consensus as to whether the placement of malware that causes no physical damage (as with malware used to monitor activities) constitutes a violation of sovereignty.[61]

Nevertheless, it concluded that “intrusion into another State’s systems does not violate the non-intervention principle . . . even where such intrusion requires the breaching of protective virtual barriers” such as firewalls or the cracking of passwords.[62] The litmus test is the concept of coercion, discussed above.

However, the Manual does not address the supplemental question of whether remote intrusion onto the territory of another state through cyber means constitutes an unlawful exercise of enforcement jurisdiction. At the very least, applying the doctrine discussed above, it seems likely that a cyber intrusion that requires the manipulation of cyber assets in a foreign state (through hacking or otherwise) does constitute an exercise of extraterritorial state power. This is not like remote sensing involving passive sensors located outside the territory of the state. Instead, this involves the transmission of electrical impulses in a manner that changes (and does not simply observe) the status quo in a foreign state. While it is true that the physical intrusion is minimal, I am not aware of any authority demonstrating that the legality of enforcement jurisdiction depends on the scale of the physical presence.[63] Indeed, to the extent that hacking violates local law, the intrusion is probably better described as an “encroachment of high intensity,”[64] an assertion consistent with the observation above on the role of territorial law in determining the legitimacy of the foreign state’s extraterritorial conduct. This is especially the case where, as here, international treaties oblige states to prohibit cyber hacking.[65] This is not, in other words, an idiosyncratic local law.

II. Sliding Scale, Legitimacy, and Legality

From the discussion above, the state of international law in relation to peacetime intelligence activities might best be described as follows:

  • Intelligence collection is not per se regulated by international law, although sufficiently intrusive collection can be tantamount to covert action.
  • Covert action is regulated by international law to the extent it amounts to coercive interference into the affairs of another state or the nonconsensual exercise of state powers on the territory of another state.
  • In both instances, the precise nature of the intelligence activity may trigger application of more specific international rules concerning, for instance, human rights or other specialized regimes implicated by the state conduct at issue.

Ambiguity occasionally exists in the precise application of these rules, but only on the margins. For instance, it is not entirely clear what state conduct constitutes the improper jure imperii. Does it include, for instance, simple investigations? Does it reach cyber intrusions? It seems safe to say, however, that the more kinetic or physical the state conduct and the more inconsistent with territorial state laws, the more likely it is to amount to a wrongful exercise of enforcement jurisdiction. And the more consequential the impact on the foreign state, the more likely it constitutes intervention violating that state’s sovereignty. While greater definitional precision would always be useful, these are workable standards on which any legal advisor adequately apprised of the facts should be able to give advice.

The take-home point is this: To the extent that commentators are inclined to treat intelligence activities as a unique area immunized from international law or subject to some special, more relaxed lex specialis, they exaggerate considerably. The residual question is, however, the one that animates Professor Deeks’s article: Namely, how should international lawyers respond to the reality that states do and will engage in intelligence activities, regardless of the niceties of international law? Building on the projects of other authors who have suggested their own criteria,[66] Professor Deeks’s solution is a “sliding scale” that retreats from legal formalism in an effort to graft principled policy constraints on intelligence activities.[67]

The resulting guidelines hinge on four variables: (1) risk of error and quantum of harm, (2) state or non-state target involved, (3) the specificity of the international rule applicable to the situation, and (4) covert action done in support of a goal for which other, overt activities are permissible (for example, election bribery undertaken to influence policies that could be influenced overtly through foreign assistance).[68] Applying these factors, Professor Deeks urges:

When engaged in intelligence activities that target actors not associated with governments, states should interpret strictly (in favor of the target) international rules that clearly address themselves to the type of harm the intelligence service is contemplating inflicting and that function to minimize the risk that a state will erroneously undertake a particular harmful activity against an individual. In contrast, when states undertake more traditional intelligence activities that primarily implicate the equities of other states, states should be permitted greater flexibility in interpreting relevant international law.[69]

The Deeks model has the significant virtue of incorporating international law into the intelligence activity calculus. It opens the door to a wide margin of appreciation for states where that law is ambiguous, but also where the consequences are less dire. It narrows that margin where the law is more precise, and especially where the conduct affects human rights. In this manner, it offers a way of prying open the door for law to an area of state conduct in which international law has figured modestly, if at all, in state decision making.

However, at its core, the sliding scale “anticipates and accepts gradations of interpretation of international law.”[70] A clear objection to the approach—as to any form of pragmatism—is that it does not operate to give international law primacy in any instance. Unquestionably, the subordination of international law is the way of the world: International law colors state discourse without governing the outcomes of state decisions, at least for matters of high politics. The residual question, however, is whether it should also be the way of the law. It is quite one thing to say that international law is sometimes ignored. It is another to say its content should vary according to a pragmatic calculus.

Professor Deeks’s bet is that an approximation of international law in intelligence activities, leavened by other considerations, is better than an indifference to it. This is a reasonable compromise of real utility to legal advisors fighting a rear-guard action against expediency. But to the extent these compromises are conflated as the rules themselves, this system risks moderating the (ideally, constraining) political risk that accompanies violations of international law. Legal formalism may not reflect the way things are done, but it is often the looking glass through which state conduct is evaluated. As Professor Nigel White argues, international legal rules may be weak compared to contingent preoccupations that drive state security behavior, “but given that the latter is just a short-hand term for power and self-interest, the formal laws remain as constraints, no matter how weak, on power.”[71]

Put another way, international law approximates a grammar of international relations. Like the grammar of any language, it does not dictate precisely what is said. But it does bind how that thing can be said. With grammar (at least in the English language), no central authority dictates its proper form. Instead, that form is decided organically through shared use. It is subject to change, sometimes even radical change, but it is almost always possible to say a particular usage is grammatical or not at any particular point. And those who use the language are then judged on their command of grammar, creating peer incentives toward conformity with generally-accepted usage.

The trouble with pragmatism as a tool for deciding the actual content of international law is that it loosens these “grammatical” constraints, unmooring international relations from any fixed (or at least slowly evolving) shared index of propriety. For its part, a formalist defense of international law in intelligence activities is not (just) a form of rule-bound inflexibility or naïve idealism. It also stems from a policy preoccupation: It is better to protect law, and accept that questions of expediency may deprioritize legality in the calculus conducted by states, than to “collapse[] any distinction between law and politics, between breach and compliance.”[72]

Professor Deeks’s guidelines are compelling policy, but in trying to bridge the gap between what Reisman and Baker call the “myth” and the actual “operational code” of international law, they are inspired by, but merely approximate, doctrine.[73] As such, they are simply a contingent choice. That makes them arbitrary: They are fully mutable as between states and governments. States would differ in the emphases they place on elements of the Deeks calculus—and on whether they accept those elements at all. And as for governments: They come and go, and some may be willing to place a heavier thumb on those variables, thus permitting a wider range of arbitrary state action. International lawyers should, however, always be able to speak clearly to the legality of this conduct, whatever the mood of any given administration.

 


[1]Wilhelm G. Grewe, The Role of International Law in Diplomatic Practice, 1 J. Hist. Int’l L. 22, 26 (1999).

[2]For a leading articulation of legal pragmatism and international law, see Michael J. Glennon, The Fog of Law: Pragmatism, Security, and International Law (2010).

[3]Ashley S. Deeks, Confronting and Adapting: Intelligence Agencies and International Law, 102 Va. L. Rev. 599, 600–01 (2016).

[4]Craig Forcese, Spies Without Borders: International Law and Intelligence Collection, 5 J. Nat’l Sec. L. & Pol’y 179, 204–05 (2011).

[5]Iñaki Navarrete, L’espionnage en Temps de Paix en Droit International Public, 53 Canadian Y.B. Int’l L. (forthcoming 2016) (manuscript at 17) (on file with the Virginia Law Review Association).

[6]U.S. Dep’t of Def., JP 1-02, Dictionary of Military and Associated Terms 114 (2010) (as amended through Feb. 15, 2016), http://www.fas.org/irp/doddir/dod/jp1_02.pdf [https://perm‌a.cc/EN7S-YFZP].

[7]A. John Radsan, The Unresolved Equation of Espionage and International Law, 28 Mich. J. Int’l L. 595, 595 (2007).

[8]See Forcese, supra note 4; Navarrete, supra note 5.

[9]S.S. Lotus (Fr. v. Turk.), Judgment, 1927 P.C.I.J. (ser. A) No. 10, at 18–19 (Sept. 7).

[10]To some extent, exceptionalism drives aspects of W. Michael Reisman & James E. Baker, Regulating Covert Action: Practices, Contexts, and Policies of Covert Coercion Abroad in International and American Law (1992).

[11]Indep. Int’l Comm’n on Kos., The Kosovo Report: Conflict, International Response, Lessons Learned 4 (2000).

[12]Reisman & Baker, supra note 10, at 48.

[13]Id.

[14]Deeks, supra note 3, at 604.

[15]Id. at 605–06.

[16]Id. at 606.

[17]Id. at 600 n.1 (internal punctuation omitted).

[18]50 U.S.C.A. § 3093(e) (West 2014).

[19]See Christopher D. Baker, Tolerance of International Espionage: A Functional Approach, 19 Am. U. Int’l L. Rev. 1091, 1091 (2004) (describing espionage as “curiously ill-defined under international law”); Gary D. Brown & Andrew O. Metcalf, Easier Said than Done: Legal Reviews of Cyber Weapons, 7 J. Nat’l Sec. L. & Pol’y 115, 117 (2014); Simon Chesterman, The Spy Who Came in from the Cold War: Intelligence and International Law, 27 Mich. J. Int’l L. 1071, 1072, 1074–75 (2006); Ingrid Delupis, Foreign Warships and Immunity for Espionage, 78 Am. J. Int’l L. 53, 53 (1984); Geoffrey B. Demarest, Espionage in International Law, 24 Denv. J. Int’l L. & Pol’y 321, 323 (1996); Dieter Fleck, Individual and State Responsibility for Intelligence Gathering, 28 Mich. J. Int’l L. 687, 687–88 (2007); Forcese, supra note 4, at 180–81; Manuel R. Garcia-Mora, Treason, Sedition and Espionage as Political Offenses Under the Law of Extradition, 26 U. Pitt. L. Rev. 65, 79–80 (1964); Myres S. McDougal, Harold Lasswell & W. Michael Reisman, The Intelligence Function and World Public Order, 46 Temp. L.Q. 365, 368, 394–95 (1973); Navarrete, supra note 5; W. Hays Parks, The International Law of Intelligence Collection, in National Security Law 433, 433–34 (John Norton Moore et al. eds., 1990); A. John Radsan, The Unresolved Equation of Espionage and International Law, 28 Mich. J. Int’l L. 595, 595–96 (2007); Roger D. Scott, Territorially Intrusive Intelligence Collection and International Law, 46 A.F. L. Rev. 217, 223 (1999); Daniel B. Silver, Intelligence and Counterintelligence, in National Security Law 935 (John Norton Moore & Robert F. Turner eds., 2d ed. 2005) (as updated and revised by Frederick P. Hitz and J.E. Shreve Ariail) (describing the status of espionage in international law as “ambiguous”); Jeffrey H. Smith, Keynote Address at the University of Michigan Journal of International Law Symposium: State Intelligence Gathering and International Law (Feb. 9, 2007), in 28 Mich. J. Int’l L. 543, 544 (2007); Glenn Sulmasy & John Yoo, Counterintuitive: Intelligence Operations and International Law, 28 Mich. J. Int’l L. 625, 625 (2007) (arguing that international law “has had little impact on the practice of intelligence gathering”); Quincy Wright, Espionage and the Doctrine of Non-Intervention in Internal Affairs, in Essays on Espionage and International Law 3 (Roland J. Stanger ed., 1962).

[20]See, e.g., Brown & Metcalf, supra note 19, at 116–17 (noting the legal distinction between cyber-spying and “more aggressive activity in this operations space” may be difficult to maintain in practice); Chesterman, supra note 19, at 1073 (“[C]overt action that causes property damage to the target state or harms its nationals might properly be the subject of state responsibility.”); Demarest, supra note 19, at 330 (“Covert action—whether legally supportable or insupportable when conducted—has a relationship to international legal proscription and mandates already defined by customary international law and the United Nations Charter.”); Fleck, supra note 19, at 692–93 (listing a series of covert actions that “can never be justified under customary law because they are gross violations of commonly accepted legal principles” and stating, “[t]he fact that they are committed through clandestine action offers a strong argument against the existence of any alleged opinio juris covering such conduct in international relations between states”); Smith, supra note 19, at 545 (suggesting that while intelligence collection is tolerated by international law, covert action is prohibited). But see Robert D. Williams, (Spy) Game Change: Cyber Networks, Intelligence Collection, and Covert Action, 79 Geo. Wash. L. Rev. 1162, 1178–79 (2011) (suggesting “[t]he status of covert action under international law is at least as uncertain as the status of espionage” but also noting “there is no bright-line rule regarding the legal status of covert actions: some may be lawful, others unlawful”).

[21]See, e.g., Forcese, supra note 4, at 185; Navarrete, supra note 5, at 44. See also discussion in Simon Chesterman, Secret Intelligence, in 4 The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law 66 (Rüdiger Wolfrum ed., 2012) (entry last updated Jan. 2009); Christian Schaller, Spies, in 9 The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law, supra, at 435 (entry last updated Apr. 2009).

[22]See discussion in Forcese, supra note 4, at 180, 186.

[23]Craig Forcese, Creative Ambiguity—International Law’s Distant Relationship with Peacetime Spying, Just Security (Nov. 14, 2013, 8:30 AM), https://www.justsecurity.org‌/316‌8/guest-post-creative-ambiguity-international-laws-distant-relationship-peacetime-spying [https://perma.cc/J5PK-DY73].

[24]S.S. Lotus (Fr. v. Turk.), Judgment, 1927 P.C.I.J. (ser. A) No. 10 (Sept. 7).

[25]Armin von Bogdandy & Markus Rau, The Lotus, in 6 The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law, supra note 21, at 946, 948 ¶ 15 (entry last updated June 2006).

[26]Michael Jefferson Adams, Jus Extra Bellum: Reconstructing the Ordinary, Realistic Conditions of Peace, 5 Harv. Nat’l Sec. J. 377, 406 (2014).

[27]Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons, Advisory Opinion, 1996 I.C.J. Rep. 226, ¶¶ 21–22 (July 8).

[28]Military and Paramilitary Activities in and Against Nicaragua (Nicar. v. U.S.), Judgment, 1986 I.C.J. Rep. 14, ¶ 202 (June 27).

[29]Deeks, supra note 3, at 643.

[30]Military and Paramilitary Activities in and Against Nicaragua, 1986 I.C.J. Rep. 14, ¶ 205.

[31]Id.

[32]1 Oppenheim’s International Law: Peace 432 (Robert Jennings & Arthur Watts eds., 9th ed. 1992).

[33]Christopher C. Joyner, Coercion, in 2 The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law, supra note 21, at 296, 297 ¶ 1 (entry last updated Dec. 2006).

[34]Int’l Grp. of Experts, NATO Coop. Cyber Def. Ctr. of Excellence, Tallinn Manual on the International Law Applicable to Cyber Warfare 45 (Michael N. Schmitt ed., 2013) [hereinafter Tallinn Manual].

[35]S.S. Lotus, 1927 P.C.I.J. (ser. A) No. 10, at 18–19.

[36]Menno T. Kamminga, Extraterritoriality, in 3 The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law, supra note 21, at 1070, 1075 ¶ 22 (entry last updated Mar. 2008).

[37]Guy Stessens, Money Laundering: A New International Law Enforcement Model 280 (2000).

[38]F.A. Mann, The Doctrine of International Jurisdiction Revisited After Twenty Years, in 186 Collected Courses of the Hague Academy of International Law 9, 38–39 (1984).

[39]Alexander Orakhelashvili, Governmental Activities on Foreign Territory, in 4 The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law, supra note 21, at 553, 556 ¶ 15 (entry last updated July 2010).

[40]Chesterman, supra note 21, at 68, ¶ 14; see also Fleck, supra note 19, at 692–93 (arguing that covert actions that “can never be justified under customary law because they are gross violations of commonly accepted legal principles” include “unauthorized entry into a foreign state’s airspace or territory, illegal exercise of jurisdiction on foreign territory, attempts to destabilize the government of another state, and common crimes, such as bribery, blackmail, unlawful entry into residences, or a breach of data protection laws committed in the course of such acts” (footnotes omitted)).

[41]Stephan Wilske, Abduction, Transboundary, in 1 The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law, supra note 21, at 4, 5 ¶ 2 (entry last updated March 2009); Raanan Rein, The Eichmann Kidnapping: Its Effects on Argentine-Israeli Relations and the Local Jewish Community, Jewish Soc. Stud., Spring/Summer 2001, at 101, 105.

[42]Rein, supra note 41, at 106 (citing Letter from Arieh Levavi, then-Ambassador to Argentina, to the Foreign Ministry of Israel (June 2, 1960)).

[43]Id. at 108.

[44]Id. at 109.

[45]See S.C. Res. 138, ¶ 1(June 23, 1960).

[46]Id. ¶ 2.

[47]Rein, supra note 41, at 110–11.

[48]F.A. Mann, The Doctrine of Jurisdiction in International Law, in 111 Collected Courses of the Hague Academy of International Law 1, 138 (1964).

[49]Orakhelashvili, supra note 39, at 556, ¶ 14.

[50]Mann, supra note 48, at 139 (footnote omitted).

[51]François Rigaux, Droit Public et Droit Privé dans les Relations Internationales 321 (1977); cf. Stessens, supra note 37, at 281 (discussing that when it comes to noncoercive measures, the question of incompatibility with international law is not as clear-cut as with coercive measures, but that these are still arguably problematic).

[52]Orakhelashvili, supra note 39, at 556, ¶ 14.

[53]See, e.g., Tallinn Manual, supra note 34, at 42.

[54]Can. Sec. Intelligence Servs. Act (Re), 2008 FC 301, ¶¶ 2, 51, 62, 69, 71 (Can.).

[55]X (Re), 2009 FC 1058, ¶¶ 40–47 (Can.).

[56]X (Re), 2014 FCA 249, ¶¶ 6–11 (Can.).

[57]Id. ¶¶ 6–18.

[58]X (Re), 2013 FC 1275, ¶¶ 102–15 (Can.).

[59]Tallinn Manual, supra note 34, at 1–5.

[60]Id. at 30.

[61]Id. at 16.

[62]Id. at 44–45.

[63]For a discussion of whether a de minimis standard should exist for cross-border electronic searches, see Nicolai Seitz, Transborder Search: A New Perspective in Law Enforcement?, 7 Yale J.L. & Tech. 23, 42–44 (2004–05). But see Navarrete, supra note 5, at 24 (arguing that there should be a de minimis concept associated with the physical intrusion associated with cyber surveillance).

[64]Seitz, supra note 63, at 43.

[65]Council of Europe, Convention on Cybercrime, ch. II, sec. 1, tit. 1, Nov. 23, 2001, C.E.T.S. No. 185.

[66]See, e.g., Reisman & Baker, supra note 10, at 1–2, 136–43. For a different set of guidelines, see Loch K. Johnson, On Drawing a Bright Line for Covert Operations, 86 Am. J. Int’l L. 284, 305–09 (1992).

[67]Deeks, supra note 3, at 667–85.

[68]Id. at 671–75.

[69]Id. at 605.

[70]Id. at 669.

[71]Nigel D. White, Advanced Introduction to International Conflict and Security Law 71 (2014).

[72]Id. at 70.

[73]See supra note 12 and accompanying text.

Changing the Face of Urban America: Assessing the Low-Income Housing Tax Credit

On June 25, 2015, the U.S. Supreme Court held that Low-Income Housing Tax Credit (“LIHTC”) allocations could violate the Fair Housing Act (“FHA”) if used to perpetuate racially concentrated poverty.[1] On the heels of this decision, on July 8, 2015, the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (“HUD”) issued its final rule on the FHA’s Affirmatively Furthering Fair Housing (“AFFH”) provisions, mandating that state and local governments use federal housing money to mitigate racial segregation or face sanctions.[2] This Essay reconciles incongruous concerns that the LIHTC is “creaming the crop” of subsidized tenants (that is to say, serving the working poor as opposed to the poorest), thereby displacing the most marginalized households from central cities, with the recent barrage of accusations that the “poverty housing industry” is only further relegating the poorest to slum, blight, and distress. Celebrating the LIHTC as a successful public-private partnership, this Essay suggests that the LIHTC is changing the face of urban America by investing in both high- and low-poverty neighborhoods, bringing higher-income households into the lowest-income urban tracts and very low-income households into the suburbs. Countering criticisms of the LIHTC as redundant because of demand-side subsidies, this Essay concludes that the LIHTC is fostering a more regional distribution of affordable housing, an outcome unattainable by voucher provision alone.

INTRODUCTION

Today, the largest and most important federal housing program in the United States is the Low-Income Housing Tax Credit program,[3] with a size and scale comparable to public housing and the federal Section 8 program.[4] But, quite unlike public housing and Section 8, the LIHTC is not a deep subsidy. LIHTC projects are not targeted at households with very low incomes, nor do rental payments vary with a tenant’s income. Yet, the LIHTC may still be serving the lowest-income families.

The community-level benefits of LIHTC developments far outweigh those of vouchers alone. The LIHTC has revitalized communities, mobilized a corporate lobby, and attracted ambitious professionals to the affordable housing industry, all to the ultimate benefit of low-income tenants. The public nature of U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development  programs means that they alone cannot achieve such outcomes. HUD needs the LIHTC to withstand political risk and to benefit from the incentive structure that only market mechanisms can provide. “Privatization” is not a singular phenomenon, but rather a complex set of relationships between public, private, and nonprofit entities. The LIHTC typifies the kind of place-based double, or even triple, bottom-line real estate investments needed in American cities today to address social problems while producing developer and investor profits. Rather than criticize the “poverty housing industry” for nefariously profiting from “federally financed ghettos,”[5] and further isolating the poor, this Essay celebrates the LIHTC as a successful public-private partnership that achieves a more regional distribution of affordable housing by moving more American households into lower-poverty, less-distressed areas, both urban and suburban.

I. Privatizing Low-Income Housing

The public housing program was born in 1937 as one of the final major pieces of New Deal legislation.[6] Yet public housing construction did not begin in earnest until after World War II.[7] The production of public housing continued to increase from the program’s start until the 1980s.[8] While public housing was originally intended for two-parent middle class families as opposed to the poorest, “[t]he postwar period saw less of the submerged middle class remain in public housing.”[9] The rapid growth of Federal Housing Administration mortgage insurance enabled millions of working- and middle-class families to purchase modest homes in new suburban developments, facilitating “white flight” from city centers.[10] Simultaneously, African Americans in the South were migrating to the rapidly industrializing North in search of economic and social mobility.[11] Facing discrimination in housing markets, very low-income people of color were soon obtaining housing in urban public housing projects.[12] Reflecting this, “the median income of public housing residents fell from 57% of the national median in 1950 to 41% in 1960, 29% in 1970, and less than 20% by the mid-1990s.”[13] The stock of public housing reached its peak in 1994 at approximately 1.4 million units.[14] By 2008, it had declined 19% with a loss of almost 270,000 units.[15] While public housing continues to provide housing to “more than a million households,” its fate is sealed: Active production is rare, while the number of demolitions is significant.[16] And, although the federal government has not built public housing since 1983, the program still faces a severe backlog of repairs and unmet capital needs.[17] Changing the face of urban America, the public housing stock will only continue to contract over time, as the government shifts its resources away from publicly owned housing.[18]

Affordable housing delivery in the United States has evolved toward greater privatization, now constructed and maintained through an assortment of public and private financing tools, most of which public housing is unable to access or leverage.[19] Section 8, the first program to separate federal housing subsidies from the ownership of housing, refers to the voucher program’s statutory authorization under Section 8 of the United States Housing Act of 1937, as amended by the Housing and Community Development Act of 1974.[20] The Quality Housing and Work Responsibility Act of 1998[21] combined the tenant- and project-based rental assistance programs into a single program, the Housing Choice Voucher program, although it is still widely known simply as Section 8.[22]

Under the tenant-based program, a public housing authority (“PHA”) provides a voucher to an eligible family and the family chooses the unit. If the family moves out of the unit, the contract with the owner terminates and the family can move with continued assistance to another unit of choice.[23] Voucher recipients pay toward rent either 30% of monthly adjusted income, 10% of monthly income, the welfare rent, or a PHA minimum rent: whichever is greatest.[24] HUD covers the remaining costs, up to a PHA payment standard.[25] The difference between housing costs in the private market and tenant incomes thus determines the cost to the government of each voucher. About two million families currently receive tenant-based vouchers, including more than one million with minor children.[26]

A PHA can also project-base up to 20% of its available voucher funding.[27] Under the Section 8 project-based rental assistance (“PBRA”) program, a PHA negotiates with a private owner for specific units, and “then refers families from its waiting list to the owner to fill vacancies.”[28] Since assistance is linked to the apartment, if a family moves out of a project-based unit it is not guaranteed continued support. Although Section 8 PBRA is by far the biggest, there are also some smaller PBRA subsidies, such as project-based vouchers (“PBVs”).[29] Unlike with PBRA, families with PBVs are still assisted by voucher payments even when they relocate.[30] PBRA remains an important source of gap financing in today’s affordable housing deals, particularly in the absence of redevelopment funds in California[31] and in the face of further cuts to HUD programs such as the Community Development Block Grant (“CDBG”) and the HOME Investment Partnerships Program.[32] It is likely that many HUD programs will only continue to diminish over time[33] given the “more insistent cries to run government like a business.”[34]

Nevertheless, thanks to the LIHTC, the federal government still has a large and growing footprint in the multifamily affordable housing industry. In fact, the creation of the LIHTC with the Tax Reform Act of 1986[35] marked nothing short of a radical transformation in the provision of subsidized housing, changing the face of urban America. Just as the central city was being cleared of public housing, the LIHTC emerged to drastically change where subsidized housing was being located.

Achieving the long-elusive goal of deconcentrating poverty, the LIHTC fosters a more regional distribution of affordable housing, finally giving low-income families more access to “high-opportunity” neighborhoods. Locating more than one-third of its units in the suburbs, the LIHTC is “meeting, and even exceeding, the . . . [voucher] program in offering opportunities to live in low-poverty suburban settings.”[36] Counterintuitively, the LIHTC is also reducing poverty concentration in high-poverty urban neighborhoods “since [many] residents of tax-credit housing tend to have incomes that are well-above the poverty line.”[37] This is important because “extremely low-income renters are more likely to live in poorer quality neighborhoods.”[38] So-called “gentrification”[39] may in fact create neighborhoods more attractive to minority households.[40] And, although a desire to maximize the amount of LIHTCs received attracts developers to neighborhoods designated as Difficult Development Areas (“DDAs”) or Qualified Census Tracts (“QCTs”),[41] which are often minority and low income, LIHTC neighborhoods are still not as disadvantaged as those with public housing and other project-based federal subsidies.[42] In fact, housing subsidized by the LIHTC is far less likely to be in highly segregated neighborhoods than is public housing.[43] By locating in a wide variety of neighborhoods, then, LIHTC developments may bring both “somewhat higher-income households into very low-income tracts” and “very low-income households into higher-income tracts,”[44] ameliorating poverty’s spatial effects. Perhaps even more significantly, though, beyond the number or quality of units or characteristics of the neighborhoods where these units are built, the LIHTC has overhauled the politics of low-income housing in the United States by gaining credence with profit developers and thus “pushing local politics toward allowing affordable housing rather than opposing it.”[45] Profit developers “are not merely participants” in the program but initiators of the process.[46]

Today, the LIHTC program supports more than 2.5 million units, increasing by about 90,000 to 100,000 units per year, and financing 85,000 subsidized apartments since 2000.[47] Almost all new low-income housing in the United States leverages the LIHTC. It works by encouraging private investors to make equity investments in limited partnership or limited liability company entities that generate tax credits, reducing federal taxes owed dollar for dollar. In return, the units developed have to be rented to households whose initial incomes do not exceed 60% or 50% of the area median income (“AMI”). By applying for LIHTCs, developers agree to set aside either 40% of units for residents earning no more than 60% of AMI or 20% of units for residents earning no more than 50% of AMI.[48] Developers use the equity generated to reduce the debt burden on the properties, thus making it easier to offer affordable rents.[49]

Big banks are motivated to participate in the LIHTC program to receive favorable consideration under the federal Community Reinvestment Act (“CRA”).[50] The CRA was passed by Congress in 1977 and mandates that banks invest resources in the local communities in which they operate.[51] It requires federal regulators to evaluate an institution’s lending in low-income neighborhoods.[52] Fortunately for the development of low-income housing, banks receive positive CRA review for LIHTC investments when they benefit a bank’s assessment area, defined to include where the bank has its main office, branches, and deposit-taking ATMs.[53] For major financial institutions, then, the LIHTC offers a true double bottom-line opportunity.[54] Not only do investors receive a credit that reduces tax liability, plus passive loss benefits, but banks receive credits toward their regulatory ratings under the CRA.[55]

The LIHTC also garners bipartisan support by motivating private-sector investment, and thus reducing reliance on federal grants. Its market-based features please politicians, and the allocation of credits to the states on a per capita basis is supported by Congress. By benefiting more parties than the typical HUD program, the LIHTC has forged a “broad political constituency to advocate for the creation and maintenance of the provision.”[56] Reframing low-income housing’s long-contentious politics, the LIHTC has resulted in “less controversy and more success.”[57]

In fact, the diverse coalition supporting the credit, including housing advocates, financial institutions, nonprofits,[58] and law and accounting firms, has allowed for an enlargement of the credit at a time when comparable spending programs have been constrained. Many members of the American public, and its political leaders, think there is no reason for the federal government to subsidize low-income housing.[59] Criticisms that HUD is too “costly” and “clunky”[60] abound. Yet because of its exclusion from the regular budget process, a tax provision like the LIHTC escapes the annual review required of a direct appropriation.[61] It therefore costs the government in the form of foregone federal tax revenue, but it does not show up as an expense.

II. Creaming the Crop? Refuting Criticisms of the LIHTC

The LIHTC is not a deep subsidy, differing starkly from other forms of federal housing assistance. With most HUD programs, gross rent, defined to include rent and tenant-paid utilities, cannot exceed 30% of actual tenant income.[62] But, with the LIHTC, “maximum unit rents are set at 30% of the applicable income limit under which the unit qualified for tax credits.”[63] Thus, little is actually known about the rent burden of families in LIHTC developments. For example, “[i]f a unit that qualifies as LIHTC at 60% of AMI is occupied by a household with an income lower than that, the maximum rent chargeable does not change.”[64] Tenant advocates are justifiably concerned that tax-credit housing is not reaching the poorest and most vulnerable households.

Since the Internal Revenue Service (“IRS”) does not collect data on LIHTC tenants, very little is known about them. Fortunately, Congress remedied this by recently mandating that the state housing agencies that monitor LIHTC compliance provide HUD with tenant data.[65] However, whether and when these data will become publicly available is uncertain.[66] Until then, the little we do know about LIHTC tenants is based on the small number of studies that presently exist. And LIHTC tenants appear to be much poorer than is popularly assumed.

Unsurprisingly, compared to those living in public housing or Section 8–assisted housing, “a significantly smaller share of LIHTC households have [extremely low incomes],” defined as “at or below 30% of AMI.”[67] While over a full three-quarters of families served by HUD’s largest programs meet this standard, only 45% of LIHTC households do.[68] Nevertheless, the LIHTC is still providing housing for some of the poorest and most vulnerable households, far more than the LIHTC rules require.[69] Approximately 46% of families overall, and more than 70% of extremely low-income families, in LIHTC units are simultaneously receiving some additional form of rental assistance.[70] For example, about 47% of the LIHTC “properties placed in service from 1995 through 2006 house one or more tenants with rental vouchers.”[71] Around 16% of voucher holders are believed to reside in LIHTC developments.[72] This is partly because LIHTC owners, unlike private owners, cannot discriminate based on the source of income and must accept vouchers.[73]

Gap financing from HUD and state and local governments remains imperative if developers are expected to house families with incomes at or below the poverty level.[74] In fact, “rental assistance plays a significant role in allowing LIHTC developments to serve extremely low-income households.”[75] For these reasons, scholars such as David Weisbach contend that the LIHTC should be replaced with more direct spending on tenant vouchers.[76] And, it is true, the late tax scholar Stanley Surrey, known widely as a “dean of the academic tax bar”[77] and “the greatest tax scholar of his generation,”[78] advanced the view that tax expenditures in general are bad tax policy.[79]

According to scholars such as David Weisbach and Jacob Nussim, locating a policy program in the tax code makes sense only if the IRS is a more efficient administrator of that program.[80] This is the case only for programs where measuring income and processing paper predominate, such as welfare benefits.[81] Yet, arguably by political accident, the IRS nonetheless administers the largest supply-side housing program in the United States.[82]

Administration by the IRS may have the unintended benefit of raising the quality of affordable housing, however. Although the IRS does not possess any expertise in housing, over a fifteen-year period it places on investors the risk of recapture of the credits, plus interest.[83] Administration by the IRS thereby effectively privatizes oversight. This provides a needed market check on projects, in turn resulting in higher-quality housing and upgrading the urban environment, possibly by raising property values and spurring commercial activity.[84] Lacking the efficiency and discipline of the private market, HUD is not as adequately staffed or as motivated to provide the same degree of vigilance.

Weisbach nonetheless contends that supply- and demand-side housing subsidies are redundant. And, it is true that, until 1986, the shift to demand-side programs appeared permanent.[85] Even so, much of the criticism of the LIHTC is based on the credit in its infancy.[86] Today, not only have syndication costs decreased, but investors are willing to accept lower returns, due to the stability of the program and in part motivated by the depreciation deductions. There are also growing market types and conditions in which the LIHTC may be more cost-efficient than vouchers, specifically in gentrifying urban communities with high rent.[87]

In fact, the depressed rental housing market of the late 1970s may be the reason for the perceived cost advantages of vouchers.[88] Today, as America’s urban neighborhoods rebound, driving up rents, the cost to the federal government of administering the voucher program continues to grow.[89] The LIHTC may thus be more effective than vouchers both in retaining the original residents of the country’s reviving city centers and in allowing more low-income households to relocate to middle-income suburbs.[90] The LIHTC is also justified as part of an overall community development strategy, which may incur higher costs but triggers neighborhood gains.[91] Extensive investment in affordable housing construction and rehabilitation has been proven to “completely rebuil[d] the urban fabric.”[92]

Since the 1990s, U.S. cities have experienced a revived interest in urban living that is likely not attributable to market shifts alone.[93] Rather, the LIHTC has been a major driver of this urban investment. Bringing higher-income households into the lowest-income urban tracts and very low-income households into the suburbs, the LIHTC is hypothesized to have fostered “place prosperity,”[94] changing the face of urban America.[95] And while a dichotomy is sometimes posed between people-based and place-based policies, “people are place, and place is people.”[96] The widespread regeneration of America’s low-income urban communities has not perpetuated a classic pattern of gentrification. Original residents in the country’s reviving city centers “are much less harmed than is typically assumed.”[97] Nor has urban America’s resurgence disproportionately hurt people of color.[98] Rather, both the voucher and LIHTC programs have grown in importance over recent years, moving more American households into lower-poverty, less-distressed areas.

Despite recent outcry over the retrenchment of federal housing assistance by scholars like Edward Goetz and Lawrence Vale,[99] the reality is that there are far more households assisted by subsidies today than there were in 1997.[100] While in 1997, there were only 699,461 units assisted by the LIHTC program, in 2010, there were 1,971,093.[101] Likewise, while 1,433,000 households received vouchers in 1997, a full 2,300,144 received them by 2010.[102] In total, 6,087,413 households were in assisted housing in 2010, compared to only 4,997,716 in 1997.[103] Homelessness has also fallen since 2007.[104] Rather than “creaming the crop,” then, contemporary federal housing policy is aiding the poorest in consuming existing housing, while offering a smaller “subsidy to assist a less poor population through production of new or fully renovated units,”[105] thereby remedying neighborhood distress.

III. Problematizing the “Ghetto” in the American Cultural Imagination

The LIHTC has long been decried as a tool of gentrification, assisting only the “barely poor” so as to displace the most marginalized from the central city in the name of profit-driven urban “revitalization.”[106] Yet, in the wake of the U.S. Supreme Court’s unexpected decision in Texas Department of Housing and Community Affairs v. Inclusive Communities Project, Inc.[107] and HUD’s attendant Affirmatively Furthering Fair Housing final rule,[108] the LIHTC is now being called out, unfairly, for failing to provide the poor with access to affluent white suburbs and neighborhoods of “opportunity.” This Essay suggests that the LIHTC has fallen victim to a false dichotomy, an urban/suburban, black/white distinction that is more a vestige of “the iconic ghetto and its relation to the white space”[109] than a contemporary reality. Taking the “history of state-sanctioned racial segregation”[110] most seriously, this Essay demonstrates that the LIHTC has mitigated, not exacerbated, the “impact of structural poverty and racism on the inner-city ghetto”[111] by achieving a more regional distribution of affordable housing. While it is clear that federal policymakers have “promulgat[ed], abbett[ed], and perpetuat[ed]” racial segregation and ghettoization, “the Low-Income Housing Tax Credit is not a significant part of this story.”[112]

The Inclusive Communities Project, Inc. (“ICP”), a Dallas-based nonprofit, sued the State of Texas over how LIHTCs were allocated to the city of Dallas. The ICP alleged that Texas had violated the Fair Housing Act by allocating the vast majority of its LIHTCs to “predominantly black inner-city areas” and supporting too few developments in “white suburban neighborhoods.”[113] The Court held that ICP’s claim could proceed under the FHA, and then remanded the case to the district court to decide whether Texas’s distribution of LIHTCs indeed resulted in a disparate impact on racial minorities.[114]

Two weeks later, HUD issued its final rule on the FHA’s AFFH provisions, bolstering the Inclusive Communities decision by requiring that cities use federal housing money to reduce racial disparities, or face penalties.[115] While rightly lauded as important civil rights advances that revived a FHA that has long laid dormant, this Essay contends that both Inclusive Communities and the AFFH final rule rest on an incongruity. The LIHTC cannot coherently be faulted for sanitizing the inner city, “creaming the crop” of subsidized tenants to make way for white gentrification, while at the same time being attacked for catalyzing a “large and lucrative industry” profiting off the status quo by keeping black families out of the white suburbs.[116] Fortunately, this paradox is unraveled, easily, by a quick look at the data on where LIHTC developments are actually being sited, and the inconsistent policy priorities motivating developers’ locational decisions.

The Qualified Allocation Plan (“QAP”) is what states use to award the competitive 9% credits.[117] By law, states are to give preference to “projects serving the lowest income tenants”[118] and projects located in QCTs, census tracts with 25% of the population in poverty, or where at least 50% of households have incomes below 60% of area median income, “the development of which contributes to a concerted community revitalization plan.”[119] However, since the LIHTC statute provides no guidance on what constitutes such a plan,[120] “there is wide variation across states in the types of neighborhoods where tax-credit units are sited.”[121]

Since 2002, the allocation of tax credits has “shifted away from high-poverty neighborhoods” and “towards moderate- and low-poverty neighborhoods,” while “a few states have adopted large increases in their prioritization of opportunity areas.”[122] Accordingly, more than one-third of all LIHTC developments are now located in the suburbs.[123] And of the LIHTC units built in suburbs, half are in census tracts with poverty rates of less than 10% .[124] However, the suburbs have grown poorer.[125] Today, poverty is growing twice as fast in suburbs as in cities.[126] Suburbs are also increasingly non-white.[127] As Myron Orfield observes, “[i]f the suburbs were ever a homogeneous bastion of untroubled prosperity, they certainly are no longer.”[128] For these reasons, recent polemics stage a false dualism between those seeking “full integration of poor people, and especially poor minorities, into well-off, largely white [suburban] neighborhoods” and the “poverty housing industry” accused of “justif[ying] the placement of affordable housing in the poorest [urban] sectors by arguing it will encourage neighborhood revitalization and economic growth.”[129]

The voucher program was intended to allow poor families to relocate to high-opportunity neighborhoods, but has failed as an instrument of desegregation since landlords are not required to accept tenants who rely on Section 8.[130] Therefore, the LIHTC has been better able to “penetrate the low-poverty suburbs”[131] and is thus doing more to deconcentrate poverty than its critics allow. Since developers “chase points,” the preference in the LIHTC statute for “projects serving the lowest income tenants” works against a desire for more LIHTC projects in high-income areas.[132] If lawmakers are to maintain the preference for QCTs, the mandate of a “concerted community revitalization plan”[133] must be made more concrete if the LIHTC program is to affirmatively further fair housing by “replacing segregated living patterns with truly integrated and balanced living patterns, transforming racially and ethnically concentrated areas of poverty into areas of opportunity.”[134] Otherwise, the LIHTC program cannot be rebuked for not making inroads into “opportunity” neighborhoods when policymakers themselves are conflicted.

IV. Forging an Industry Based on Public-Private Partnership

Today, public-private partnerships are a significant and growing sector of the urban economy, with the LIHTC a pivotal driver of innovation in housing policy at the federal, state, and local levels. The LIHTC has not only broadened low-income housing’s political constituency, but has enlarged the concept of “value.” This benefits America’s poorest households in ways that a cost-efficiency comparison with HUD programs cannot reveal. Rather than assume that social and financial goals must be in opposition, the LIHTC is a paradigmatic example of what Professor Nestor Davidson calls “the practical mechanisms of [a] private ordering.”[135] By this he means that, by aligning the profit motive of a private client with the goal of providing market-rate shelter to poor families, mitigating the impacts of concentrated urban poverty, the LIHTC expands a real estate transaction’s value beyond simply maximizing overall return.[136] Using private means to achieve public ends, the LIHTC invests the government in the outcome of private transacting with unprecedented vigor.

Scholars like Jon Michaels rightly worry about overreliance on the private sector and the concomitant hollowing out of the federal government. And it is true that American privatization is now a “trillion-dollar phenomenon,” with private actors carrying out more and more public functions.[137] Yet, despite its negative connotations, “privatization” may in reality be a complex set of relationships between government at all levels, financial institutions, and nonprofits, always with conflicting goals. It is precisely this diversity of interests represented by any given LIHTC deal that this Essay suggests is propelling policy innovation by attracting ambitious deal makers motivated by private incentives but also driven by public goals.

Conclusion

Perhaps the LIHTC explains why the face of urban America has changed so drastically since the 1990s. Maybe privatization does not have to pose a challenge to the goal of providing housing to the poorest population. After all, it is at least possible that financial institutions can gain from affordable housing’s transformation while nevertheless improving the lives of poor tenants.

 


[1]Tex. Dept. of Hous. & Cmty. Affairs v. Inclusive Cmtys Project, Inc., 135 S.Ct. 2507, 2525 (2015).

[2]Julie Hirschfeld Davis & Binyamin Applebaum, Obama Unveils Stricter Rules Against Segregation in Housing, N.Y. Times (July 8, 2015), http://www.nytimes.‌com/201‌5/07‌/‌09/us/hud-issuing-new-rules-to-fight-segregation.html [https://perma.cc/YR2F-44‌XU‌].

[3]Alex F. Schwartz, Housing Policy in the United States 103 (2d ed. 2010); Moelis Inst. for Affordable Hous. Policy, What Can We Learn About the Low-Income Housing Tax Credit Program by Looking at the Tenants? 1 (2012), http://furman‌cen‌ter.org‌/file‌s/publicatio‌ns/LIHTC_Final_Policy_Brief_v2.pdf [https://perma.cc/7EEU-G5‌Q4]; Low-Income Housing Tax Credits, HUD USER, http://ww‌w.huduser.org/portal/datasets/lihtc.html [https:‌//perma.cc/6LTR-UC8R] (last visited May 16, 2016). The LIHTC is codified at 26 U.S.C. § 42 (2012).

[4]Katherine M. O’Regan & Keren M. Horn, What Can We Learn About the Low-Income Housing Tax Credit Program by Looking at the Tenants?, 23 Housing Pol’y Debate 597, 597 (2013).

[5]See Op-Ed., The End of Federally Financed Ghettos, N.Y. Times (July 11, 2015), http://www.nytimes.com/2015/07/12/opinion/the-end-of-federally-financed-ghett‌os‌.html?_r=0 [https://perma.cc/2PUU-6NNK].

[6]Schwartz, supra note 3, at 125.

[7]Id. at 126.

[8]Id.

[9]Id. at 129.

[10]Priscilla A. Ocen, The New Racially Restrictive Covenant: Race, Welfare, and the Policing of Black Women in Subsidized Housing, 59 UCLA L. Rev. 1540, 1555 (2012).

[11]See Elijah Anderson, The White Space, Sociology of Race and Ethnicity 10, 11 (2015) (“As blacks arrived and settled in cities, they were typically contained in ghettos . . . .”).

[12]See Schwartz, supra note 3, at 129; Lawrence J. Vale, Purging the Poorest: Public Housing and the Design Politics of Twice-Cleared Communities 17 (2013) (“[P]ublic housing in most large urban centers changed because much of its initial white working-class constituency chose to leave it behind for other housing alternatives . . . .”).

[13]Schwartz, supra note 3, at 129; accord Vale, supra note 12, at 17 (“By 1992, HUD reported that the majority of public housing incomes fell below 20 percent of the median of their metropolitan areas.”).

[14]Schwartz, supra note 3, at 126.

[15]Id.

[16]Kirk McClure & Bonnie Johnson, Housing Programs Fail to Deliver on Neighborhood Quality, Reexamined, 25 Housing Pol’y Debate 3–4 (2014), http://www.tand‌fonli‌n.com/doi/pdf/10.1080/10511482.2014.944201 [https://perma.cc/D7WW-U33X].

[17]Schwartz, supra note 3, at 139; see also Rental Assistance Demonstration, U.S. Dep’t Housing & Urb. Dev., http://portal.hud.gov/hudportal/HUD?src=/RAD [https://p‌erma.cc/UL8S-KPC3] (last visited May 16, 2016) (estimating a $25.6 billion backlog of public housing capital improvements).

[18]McClure & Johnson, supra note 16, at 29.

[19]Criticized as privatization, yet celebrated as “cost-neutral,” HUD’s Rental Assistance Demonstration is a recent attempt to allow public housing agencies to leverage private debt and LIHTC equity investments. Rental Assistance Demonstration, supra note 17.

[20]Pub. L. No. 93-383, tit. II, § 201(a), 88 Stat. 633, 662–66 (codified as amended at 42 U.S.C. § 1437f (2012)); Schwartz, supra note 3, at 177–78.

[21]Pub. L. No. 105-276, tit. V, § 545, 112 Stat. 2518, 2596–604 (codified as amended at 42 U.S.C. § 1437f (2012)).

[22]Schwartz, supra note 3, at 180.

[23]Id.

[24]Lan Deng, The Cost-Effectiveness of the Low-Income Housing Tax Credit Relative to Vouchers: Evidence from Six Metropolitan Areas, 16 Housing Pol’y Debate 469, 488 (2005).

[25]Id.

[26]Deven Carlson et al., The Benefits and Costs of the Section 8 Housing Subsidy Program: A Framework and Estimates of First-Year Effects, 30 J. Pol’y Analysis & Mgmt. 233, 234 (2011).

[27]Project-Based Voucher Program, U.S. Dep’t Housing & Urb. Dev., http://portal.‌hud‌.‌gov/hudportal/HUD?src=/hudprograms/projectbased [https://perma.cc/Y6BH-3MD‌E] (last visited May 16, 2016).

[28]Deng, supra note 24, at 493.

[29]Policy Basics: Section 8 Project-Based Rental Assistance, Ctr. on Budget & Pol’y Priorities 2 (June 1, 2015), http://www.cbpp.org/files/PolicyBasics-housing-1-25-13‌P‌BRA.pdf [https://perma.cc/8G74-RYY3].

[30]Id.

[31]See, e.g., Angela Kopolovich, California Supreme Court Upholds Law Dissolving Redevelopment Agencies, St. Ct. Docket Watch (Federalist Soc’y for L. & Pub. Pol’y Studies), Spring 2012, at 5 (discussing California Redevelopment Ass’n v. Matosantos, 267 P.3d 580 (Cal. 2011), which upheld a state law eliminating redevelopment agencies entirely).

[32]See, e.g., Obama’s FY 2015 Budget Requests $46.7 Billion for HUD Programs, Nat’l Housing & Rehabilitation Ass’n (Mar. 5, 2014), https://www‌.hou‌sing‌online‌.com/201‌4/‌03/05/obamas-fy-2015-budget-requests-467-billion-for-hud-programs/ [https://perma.cc/93‌E3-L6L9] (reporting that President Obama’s fiscal year 2015 budget “reduc[es] funding for the CDBG to $2.8 billion and HOME to $950 million, which combined is $280 million less than [the] 2014 enacted level”).

[33]McClure & Johnson, supra note 16, at 7.

[34]See Jon D. Michaels, Running Government Like a Business . . . Then and Now, 128 Harv. L. Rev. 1152, 1152 (2015) (reviewing Nicholas R. Parrillo, Against the Profit Motive: The Salary Revolution in American Government 1780–1940 (2013)).

[35]Pub. L. No. 99-514, tit. II, § 252(a), 100 Stat. 2085, 2189–205 (codified as amended at 26 U.S.C. § 42 (2012)).

[36]McClure & Johnson, supra note 16, at 10–11, 18 (concluding that the LIHTC performs as well as the Housing Choice Voucher program in “making entry into the suburbs, migrating away from the distress so often found in central-city neighborhoods”).

[37]Schwartz, supra note 3, at 115.

[38]Joint Ctr. for Hous. Studies of Harvard Univ., The State of the Nation’s Housing 29 (2014).

[39]Adam Gopnik, Naked Cities: The Death and Life of Urban America, New Yorker, Oct. 5, 2015, http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2015/10/05/naked-cities [https://perma.c‌c/93DH-MM72] (“[T]he chief way that cities have renewed and restored themselves in recent times is through the process that has the ill-given name of gentrification—ill-given because it is dehumanizing to fix under the label ‘gentry’ the mixture of social types who reenter the urban arena, ranging from real-estate keeners to young gay couples to painters seeking space, just as it is to label a similar mixture of social types an ‘underclass.’”).

[40]See John Buntin, The Myth of Gentrification: It’s Extremely Rare and Not as Bad for the Poor as You Think, Slate, Jan. 14, 2015, http://www.slate.c‌om/arti‌cles/n‌ews_and_politics/politics/2015/01/the_gentrification_myth_it_s_rare_and_not_as_bad_for_the_poor_as_people.html [https://perma.cc/PG4Q-2BCS] (suggesting the real problem is “gentrification” too often bypassing black neighborhoods).

[41]David Black et al., Office of the Comptroller of the Currency, Low-Income Housing Tax Credits: Affordable Housing Investment Opportunities for Banks, Community Dev. Insights, Apr. 2014, at 12 & nn.38–39 (stating that projects in QCTs “with a poverty rate of at least 25 percent or . . . where 50 percent of the households have incomes below 60 percent of the area median income,” or in DDAs with “high construction, land, and utility costs relative to the area median gross income,” may receive a “basis boost” of 30% more eligible costs in the LIHTC calculation).

[42]Schwartz, supra note 3, at 115; McClure & Johnson, supra note 16, at 10.

[43]Alex Schwartz, The Low-Income Housing Tax Credit, Community Development, and Fair Housing: A Response to Orfield et al., 26 Housing Pol’y Debate 276, 277 (2016).

[44]Ingrid Gould Ellen & Katherine O’Regan, Exploring Changes in Low-Income Neighborhoods in the 1990s, in Neighborhood and Life Chances: How Place Matters in Modern America 103, 117 (Harriet B. Newburger et al. eds., 2011).

[45]McClure & Johnson, supra note 16, at 12.

[46]Id.

[47]Schwartz, supra note 43, at 277; McClure & Johnson, supra note 16, at 6.

[48]Schwartz, supra note 3, at 105.

[49]Id.

[50]12 U.S.C. §§ 2901–2908 (2012).

[51]Schwartz, supra note 3, at 281.

[52]Id.

[53]Community Reinvestment Act, Partnership for Progress, http://www.fedpart‌ner‌ship.g‌ov/bank-life-cycle/topic-index/community-reinves‌tment‌-act.cfm [https://perma.cc/R63N-Y5PF] (last updated Sept. 6, 2013).

[54]See Alison Lingane & Sara Olsen, Guidelines for Social Return on Investment, 46 Cal. Mgmt. Rev 116, 117 (2004) (conceptualizing “social bottom line” as the social parallel to a firm’s “financial bottom line” and defining the term as “[t]he net social benefit from business operations”).

[55]Black et al., supra note 41, at 2 n.3, 7, 9–12 (discussing passive loss benefits, the CRA, and tax credits).

[56]Clinton G. Wallace, Note, The Case for Tradable Tax Credits, 8 N.Y.U. J.L. & Bus. 227, 269 (2011).

[57]McClure & Johnson, supra note 16, at 12.

[58]Federal law requires that 10% of each state’s annual housing tax credit ceiling be set aside for projects involving nonprofits. 26 U.S.C. § 42(h)(5) (2012).

[59]See, e.g., Josh Barro, Romney Is Right: Abolish HUD, Forbes (Apr. 16, 2012, 10:52 AM), http://www.forbes.com/sites/joshbarro/2012/04/16/romney-is-right-abolish-h‌ud/ [http‌s://perma.cc/M5MN-2MYV].

[60]But see Michaels, supra note 34, at 1177, 1181­–82 (advocating for a celebration of government’s clunkiness as what “enables businesses to run like businesses” (emphasis omitted)).

[61]Wallace, supra note 56, at 271.

[62]O’Regan & Horn, supra note 4, at 599.

[63]Id.

[64]Id. at 605.

[65]Id. at 598; see Moelis Inst. for Affordable Hous. Policy, supra note 3, at 2 (“The Housing and Economic Recovery Act (HERA) of 2008 required state housing finance agencies to begin reporting tenant incomes and rents to HUD.”).

[66]O’Regan & Horn, supra note 4, at 598.

[67]Id. at 602.

[68]Id. at 602–03; accord Moelis Inst. for Affordable Hous. Policy, supra note 3, at 4.

[69]Moelis Inst. for Affordable Hous. Policy, supra note 3, at 4 (“[A]lmost two-thirds of LIHTC units serve households whose incomes fall well below the maximum permitted income levels.”).

[70]Id. at 3; New Study Reveals Incomes and Rent Burdens of LIHTC Households, Nat’l Low Income Hous. Coalition (July 13, 2012), http://nlihc.org/article/new-study-rev‌e‌a‌l‌s-incomes-and-rent-burdens-lihtc-households [https://perma.cc/T4X2-HCT7].

[71]Schwartz, supra note 3, at 113.

[72]McClure & Johnson, supra note 16, at 7.

[73]O’Regan & Horn, supra note 4, at 604.

[74]See Joint Ctr. for Hous. Studies of Harvard Univ., supra note 38, at 32 (“[T]he private sector is simply unable to provide additional low-cost housing without subsidies. For lowest-income renters, government assistance is the only means to secure housing . . . .”).

[75]Moelis Inst. for Affordable Hous. Policy, supra note 3, at 4.

[76]David A. Weisbach, Tax Expenditures, Principal-Agent Problems, and Redundancy, 84 Wash. U. L. Rev. 1823, 1827 (2006).

[77]Obituary, Stanley S. Surrey, 74; Taxation Law Expert, N.Y. Times (Aug. 28, 1984), http://www.nytimes.com/1984/08/28/obituaries/stanley-s-surrey-74-taxation-la‌w-expert.html [https://perma.cc/3WNF-UJ7V] (quoting Louis Loss, Cromwell Professor Emeritus at Harvard Law School).

[78]Erwin N. Griswold, In Memoriam: Stanley S. Surrey – A True Public Servant, 98 Harv. L. Rev. 329, 331 (1984).

[79]Stanley S. Surrey, Tax Incentives as a Device for Implementing Government Policy: A Comparison with Direct Government Expenditures, 83 Harv. L. Rev. 705, 734 (1970).

[80]See David A. Weisbach & Jacob Nussim, The Integration of Tax and Spending Programs, 113 Yale L.J. 955, 957 (2004) (“[T]he tax expenditure decision . . . is solely a matter of institutional design.”).

[81]Id. at 959.

[82]See Doug Guthrie & Michael McQuarrie, Privatization and Low-Income Housing in the United States Since 1986, in 14 Research in Political Sociology: Politics and the Corporation 15, 32–36 (Harland Prechel ed., 2005) (detailing how key interest groups capitalized on opportunities that expanded community development through the LIHTC).

[83]Joint Ctr. for Hous. Studies of Harvard Univ., The Disruption of the Low-Income Housing Tax Credit Program: Causes, Consequences, Responses, and Proposed Correctives 3 (2009).

[84]See Michael Rubinger, Op-Ed., Two Tax Credits That Work, N.Y. Times (July 13, 2013), http://www.nytimes.com/2013/07/13/opinion/two-tax-credits-that-wo‌rk.html?_r=0 [https://perma.cc/ABS9-S6AQ] (suggesting that the LIHTC’s private-sector incentives “lead to greater accountability and superior project performance when compared with federal grant programs”).

[85]From the 1930s to 1980s, there was a decided shift away from supply-side housing programs; the federal government has not built public housing since 1983. In its place, rental assistance was provided in the form of vouchers. However, in 1986, Congress unexpectedly enacted the LIHTC, transforming the low-income housing industry. See generally Guthrie & McQuarrie, supra note 82, at 26–32 (outlining the political history of the LIHTC).

[86]See Schwartz, supra note 3, at 106 (detailing changes between “the years immediately following the establishment of the credit” and after the credit was made permanent); see also id. at 116 (describing “criticisms [that] were leveled during the first years of the program”).

[87]See Edward Glaeser, How to Make San Francisco’s Housing More Affordable, BloombergView (Dec. 13, 2013, 9:33 AM), http://www.bloom‌bergview.‌com/arti‌cles/2‌013-12-13/how-to-make-san-francisco-s-housing-more-affordable [https://p‌erma.c‌c‌/‌CFK2-JHGS] (“In constrained cities, supply-side policies such as the Low-Income Housing Tax Credits are more likely to make an impact.”).

[88]Deng, supra note 24, at 474.

[89]Joint Ctr. for Hous. Studies of Harvard Univ., supra note 38, at 30.

[90]Schwartz, supra note 3, at 115.

[91]See Ellen & O’Regan, supra note 44, at 114–16; see also Rubinger, supra note 84 (arguing that the LIHTC is partially responsible for the “rebirth” of neighborhoods across the United States).

[92]Schwartz, supra note 43, at 281.

[93]Lan Deng, Assessing Changes in Neighborhoods Hosting the Low-Income Housing Tax Credit Projects 37 (Univ. of Mich. Ctr. for Local, State & Urban Policy, CLOSUP Working Paper Series No. 8, 2009), http://closup.umich.edu/files/closup-wp-8-lihtc.pdf [https://perm‌a.cc/XH3G-N42V].

[94]See Louis Winnick, Place Prosperity vs. People Prosperity: Welfare Considerations in the Geographic Redistribution of Economic Activity, in Essays in Urban Land Economics 273, 273 (1966) (coining the term “place prosperity,” but rejecting place-based policies in favor of people-based programs); see also Nestor M. Davidson, Reconciling People and Place in Housing and Community Development Policy, 16 Geo. J. Poverty L. & Pol’y 1, 1–2, 6–7, 10 (2009) (rejecting the people/place dichotomy, observing that “people-based” vouchers’ emphasis on individual mobility “somewhat ironically elevates the centrality of place,” and concluding that “project-based subsidies can alleviate rather than contribute to concentrated poverty and segregation if new construction and subsidies for the preservation of existing housing focus on a diverse set of communities”).

[95]Ellen & O’Regan, supra note 44, at 117.

[96]Davidson, supra note 94, at 1–2 (noting that “[t]he debate about place-based versus people-based approaches has been etched in the evolution of housing and community development policy since at least the post-War era,” and arguing that “this dichotomy is much more illusory than the traditional debate assumes”).

[97]Ingrid Gould Ellen & Katherine M. O’Regan, How Low Income Neighborhoods Change: Entry, Exit, and Enhancement, 41 Regional Sci. & Urb. Econ. 89, 97 (2011).

[98]See Terra McKinnish, Randall Walsh & T. Kirk White, Who Gentrifies Low-Income Neighborhoods?, 67 J. Urb. Econ. 180, 180–81 (2010) (“[T]he demographic flows associated with the gentrification of urban neighborhoods during the 1990s are not consistent with displacement and harm to minority households.”).

[99]See Edward G. Goetz, New Deal Ruins: Race, Economic Justice, & Public Housing Policy (2013) (analyzing the effects of the dismantlement of public housing); Vale, supra note 12 (detailing examples of cleared public housing).

[100] McClure & Johnson, supra note 16, at 7.

[101] Id.

[102] Id.

[103] Id.

[104] Joint Ctr. for Hous. Studies of Harvard Univ., supra note 38, at 31.

[105] McClure & Johnson, supra note 16, at 8.

[106]See generally Op-Ed, Affordable Housing, Racial Isolation, N.Y. Times (June 29, 2015), http://www.nytimes.com/2015/06/29/opinion/affordable-housing-raci‌al-isolation.html [https://perma.cc/C78V-JDTS] (discussing racially discriminatory aspects of the FHA).

[107]135 S. Ct. 2507, 2525 (2015).

[108]Affirmatively Furthering Fair Housing, 24 C.F.R. §§ 5, 91, 92, 570, 574, 576, 903 (2015).

[109]Anderson, supra note 11, at 20.

[110]Id. at 11. By underwriting all-white suburbs “with the explicit requirement that blacks be excluded from them,” the federal government created racial ghettoization to begin with. See Richard Rothstein, The Supreme Court’s Challenge to Housing Segregation, The American Prospect, July 5, 2015, http://prospect.org/article/supreme-courts-challenge-housing-segregation [https://perma.cc/VLA5-2DDU].

[111]Anderson, supra note 11, at 13.

[112]Schwartz, supra note 43, at 276.

[113]Inclusive Cmtys., 135 S. Ct. at 2514.

[114]Id. at 2525–26.

[115]See Davis & Applebaum, supra note 2.

[116]See Gayle Reaves, The Fight for Fair Housing, Texas Observer (Aug. 4, 2015), https://www.texasobserver.org/texas-lawsuits-affordable-fair-housing-inclusive-com‌munities/ [https://perma.cc/T8TQ-3V9W] (intimating that the LIHTC program is “serving a lot of people before it serves poor people”).

[117]States are allocated both competitive 9% LIHTCs, which are capped, and 4% LIHTCs used together with tax-exempt bonds. See Ingrid Gould Ellen et al., U.S. Dep’t of Hous. and Urban Dev., Office of Policy Dev. and Research, Effects of QAP Incentives on the Location of LIHTC Properties, Multi-Disciplinary Research Team Report (2015).

[118]26 U.S.C. § 42(m)(1)(B)(ii)(I) (2012).

[119]Id. § 42(m)(1)(B)(ii)(III).

[120]Historically, most states simply prioritized QCTs in the QAPs and ignored the requirement of a “concerted community revitalization plan.” See Jill Khadduri, Creating Balance in the Locations of LIHTC Developments: The Role of Qualified Allocation Plans, Poverty & Race Research Action Council 10 (2013).

[121]Ellen, supra note 117 , at 13.

[122]Id. at 12, 13. Only since the Housing and Economic Recovery Act of 2008 have states been able to set their own priorities. See Schwartz, supra note 43, at 279.

[123]Kirk McClure, The Low-Income Housing Tax Credit Program Goes Mainstream and Moves to the Suburbs, 17 Hous. Pol’y Debate 419, 434 (2006).

[124]Id. at 437 tbl. 2.

[125]See Elizabeth Kneebone & Alan Berube, Confronting Suburban Poverty in America (2013).

[126]Brad Plumer, Poverty is Growing Twice as Fast in the Suburbs as in Cities, Wash. Post (May 23, 2013), https://www.washingtonpo‌st.com/news/wo‌nk/wp/201‌3/05/‌23/poverty-is-now-growing-twice-as-fast-in-the-suburbs-as-in-the-city/ [https://perma.cc/6E4B-SZ3L].

[127]The Brookings Inst. Metro. Policy Program, State of Metropolitan America: On The Front Lines of Demographic Transformation 61 (2010).

[128]Myron Orfield, Metropolitics and Fiscal Equity, in The City Reader 338, 341 (Richard T. LeGates & Frederic Stout eds., 2016).

[129]See Thomas B. Edsall, Op-Ed, Where Should a Poor Family Live?, N.Y. Times (Aug. 5, 2015), http://www.nytimes.com/2015/08/05/opinion/where-should-a-poor-family-live.h‌tml [https://perma.cc/RWV8-B5T8].

[130]See Alana Semuels, How Housing Policy is Failing America’s Poor, Atlantic (June 24, 2015) http://www.theatlantic.com/business/archive/2015/06/section-8-is-failing‌/396650/ [ht‌tps://perma.cc/KS8Y-73JE].

[131]McClure, supra note 123, at 439.

[132]26 U.S.C. § 42(m)(1)(B)(ii)(I) (2012).

[133]Id. § 42(m)(1)(B)(ii)(III).

[134]Affirmatively Furthering Fair Housing, 80 Fed. Reg. 42,272, 42,353 (July 16, 2015) (to be codified at 24 C.F.R. § 5.152).

[135] Nestor M. Davidson, Values and Value Creation in Public-Private Transactions, 94 Iowa L. Rev. 937, 943 (2009).

[136] Id.

[137] Jon D. Michaels, Privatization’s Pretensions, 77 U. Chi. L. Rev. 717, 724 (2010).