October 22, 2005
How Eminent Domain Ran Amok
By Carla
T. Main
PAGE
5 OF 5
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In 1998, New
London, Connecticut, was a city in decline. Pfizer came in, bought
up some land, and built a corporate park adjacent to the Fort
Trumbull neighborhood of New London. The city saw this as an opportunity
for salvation. The New London Development Corporation (nldc),
established years earlier, was reactivated and rustled up $73
million from the state. It made a plan to raze some land in Fort
Trumbull to build a hotel, offices, and condominiums that would
serve Pfizer’s guests and employees. There would also be
a marina with restaurants and shopping. There were seven parcels
in the overall plan. Many of the homeowners sold voluntarily.
But some wanted to stay.
From the
outset, IJ was faced with some tough choices. Midkiff,
and most especially the sweeping language of Berman,
seemed to have sealed the fate of the Kelo petitioners.
How IJ approached the briefing and argument of the case is a matter
of some interest, since it is an advocacy organization advancing
a particular political ideology — one that sees no room
for compromise on the question of economic development takings
and looks with great suspicion on all uses of eminent domain.
IJ had first
to decide whether to try to overturn precedent or to work within
precedent by arguing for a change in the constitutional standard.
Under the first strategy, one would argue that Berman
and Midkiff were fundamentally wrong and should be overturned.
The Cato Institute argued, in an amicus brief written
by Professor Richard Epstein of the University of Chicago, that
those cases improperly expanded the public use clause beyond any
plausible understanding of its meaning, conflating it with public
benefit in an improper way. Alternatively, one could primarily
urge the court to adopt a stricter standard of scrutiny than the
one established in 1984 in Midkiff, which held that the
court would not invalidate a takings statute that was “rationally
related to a conceivable public purpose.”
As its primary
argument, IJ asked the court to establish a bright-line rule —
no economic development takings whatsoever — but without
explicitly overturning Berman and Midkiff, in
which the takings benefiting private parties were justified for
public purposes other than economic development.
Judicial
philosophies at the high court have an ebb and flow, with different
alliances favoring “rules” and others favoring “standards”
(or balancing tests) at various points in the court’s history.
As Kathleen M. Sullivan deftly described in her oft-cited article,
“The Justices of Rules and Standards,” the conservative
justices on the modern court, most especially those who have gravitated
toward Justice Scalia, can usually be counted on to favor rules,
while the liberals on the court tend to favor more flexible, fact-sensitive
weighing of interests. She cited Justice Stevens (who would write
the Kelo decision) chiding Justice Scalia, who favored a bright-line
rule in a regulatory takings case: “ ‘[L]ike many
bright-line rules, the categorical rule established in this case
is only “categorical” for a page or two in the U.S.
Reports before it gives way to an exception.’ ”18
When IJ came
before the court in Kelo, its primary task was not to
persuade the conservatives on the bench; they were already predisposed
in the petitioners’ favor. By arguing for a bright-line
rule, IJ was preaching to the choir and alienating the very audience
it most had to persuade.
There is
no doubt that on the day of the oral argument, the bright-line
argument had all the buoyancy of a lead weight. The justices struggled
with how to square such a draconian outcome with the sweeping
language of Berman, which allows for the taking of private
property for turnover to other private parties for purposes as
amorphous as improving the human spirit. Logic led them more than
once to ask why the petitioners’ position would not require
the court to overturn Berman and Midkiff. Justice
O’Connor repeatedly asked for a constitutional test (in
lieu of a bright-line rule). Scott Bullock, arguing for IJ, finally
offered a “reasonable forseeability” test as an alternative
— that is, that project planners should demonstrate some
reasonably foreseeable likelihood of achieving their economic
goal. “That’s a big retreat,” said Justice Breyer,
“and it comes to me that now you’re getting to what
I think is a possible realm of reason here.”
The Supreme
Court is a place where vocabulary matters tremendously, and fashioning
the request for relief in the language the court is accustomed
to allows the court to fit the case into its long lines of jurisprudence.
It was clear that the court was frustrated by a lack of familiar
arguments. There was a key point in the oral argument at which
Justice Kennedy, in classic appellate court fashion, made an analogy
to the nineteenth-century railroad cases and to public utility
cases, inviting Bullock to distinguish them. He responded with
an IJ stump speech against economic development takings.
When it came
time for the city’s attorney to speak, he was hardly given
a free pass. It was equally clear that the justices were troubled
by the idea of the government taking from A to give to B simply
because B would pay more in taxes, and they returned more than
once to the issue of just compensation. The city’s attorney,
Wesley Horton, conceded that he did not agree with imposing any
judicial test on an economic development taking, nor did he think
it necessary to confine economic development takings to depressed
areas. “[U]nder your theory of public use, [a city could]
say, yes, we are not doing badly, but we could do better,”
said Justice Scalia. Horton agreed.
In the end,
the court majority rejected the adoption of a higher standard
of review in economic development takings, finding it inconsistent
with the precedent of Berman, which gives deference to
legislative judgment, expressly out of fear that it would create
an impractical system in which such takings would be mired in
litigation to test their “reasonableness” before new
projects could ever begin. Nonetheless, the majority practically
invited state legislatures to pass laws prohibiting such takings:
“We emphasize that nothing in our opinion precludes any
State from placing further restrictions on its exercise of the
takings power. Indeed, many States already impose ‘public
use’ requirements that are stricter than the federal baseline
. . . as a matter of state constitutional law [or] state eminent
domain statutes.”
The dissenters,
led by Justice O’Connor, seemed alarmed by the potential
for cherry-picking of individual properties, as well as by the
facts laid out in the amicus briefs detailing the disparate
impact of such takings on the poor and minorities. O’Connor
argued that the majority’s holding essentially rendered
the public use clause of the constitution meaningless. Picking
up the thread of the Hathcock decision, she distinguished
Berman and Midkiff by reasoning that in those
cases the very acts envisioned by the condemnation statute advanced
the public interest because they eliminated blight and a pernicious
oligopoly, respectively.
A
Groundswell of Takings
The decision
set off a firestorm. Debates about eminent domain have found their
way into local, state, and national politics. The National
Law Journal (August 1, 2005) reported that in the months
following the decision, legislatures in 28 states have introduced
more than 70 bills aimed at curbing local eminent domain powers,
and legislators in five states have proposed constitutional amendments
to prohibit eminent domain for private development. Alabama has
passed a statute prohibiting economic development takings but
making an express exception for “blighted properties”
(which could easily become a loophole). Two federal bills have
been introduced. Each, with variations, would prevent the use
of federal money by states and local governments for eminent domain
projects in which private economic development is the goal; they
would also prohibit the federal government from undertaking such
projects.
The debate
has entered local politics in many strange permutations. For example,
in what can only be regarded as comic relief for those who live
in New Jersey — a state that never met an eminent domain
project it didn’t like — warring gubernatorial candidates
Douglas Forrester (a Republican) and Jon Corzine (a Democrat)
have tried mightily to outdo each other in demonstrations of outrage
over Kelo. The mini-melodrama illustrates just how insular
and tangled up in local intrigue eminent domain abuses can become.
Within weeks of the Kelo decision, Forrester called a
news conference to announce solemnly the creation of a task force
“to study the impact of the court’s ruling.”
He did not wait for its report to denounce an abuse of eminent
domain in the proposal to build a golf course on Petty’s
Island — a project reportedly supported by a New Jersey
Democratic power broker close to Corzine (according to Forrester).
Corzine soon fired back with his own seven-point plan —
which he insisted he had formulated even before the Kelo
case was decided — for ridding New Jersey of the evil of
eminent domain abuse, “except in rare and exceptional circumstances.”
Not to be
outdone by their neighbors across the Hudson, the challengers
in the New York City primary race for Public Advocate —
always a slugfest — were also slinging mud over eminent
domain this summer. In the post-Kelo world, it seems,
it is de riguer for politicians to at least look
as if they despise eminent domain. The incumbent public advocate,
Betsy Gotbaum, was feverishly attacked for publicly supporting
the highly controversial Atlantic Yards project on Brooklyn’s
waterfront (an enormous economic development taking) while at
the same time insisting that she is opposed to such takings. Among
her critics was a city councilwoman who has introduced a bill
to prevent the use of city funds to facilitate such takings. Gotbaum
countered that the powerful and well-funded developer was still
negotiating buyouts with the holdout residents, and besides, the
developer had told her “he didn’t want to use eminent
domain.” That’s a bit like saying that a robber who
puts a gun to a man’s head and takes his wallet did not
obtain it by force since he never actually pulled the trigger.
All of this
nuttiness would be amusing if one could feel certain that it would
lead to some lasting reform. But other forces have been at work
since the Kelo decision. For one thing, there has been
a groundswell of takings activity, as the many development projects
that were put on ice while Kelo was pending before the
high court have now been reactivated. In addition, it is not at
all clear that the many bills introduced in state legislatures
around the country will actually become law. The lobbies against
such bills are many and highly organized: state and local governments,
real estate developers, sports franchises in search of arenas,
the hotel industry, big-box retailers, and many others with an
interest in seeing urban and even rural development in convenient
locations through the use of economic development takings.
On the other
hand, opposition to such projects — and hence support for
pending legislation — is by definition scattered. Its base
is primarily and most fervently composed of people who stand in
harm’s way of such takings. But while the fervor generated
by the decision may have been enough to get the bills introduced,
it may not be enough, with such supporters relatively few in number,
for politicians to take the issue to the mat against powerful
lobbies.
And even
if they are passed, blight removal — an eminent domain category
that traditionally has been as slippery as an eel — can
always surface again as a convenient loophole (as it has in the
Alabama statute). Or legislatures, under pressure from business
lobbies, might fashion some other standard under which to test
the confines of lawful takings.
As for the
homeowners in Fort Trumbull, their fate is still uncertain. The
city, sore winners, slapped a bill for unpaid “rent”
on the Kelo homeowners, reasoning that since petitioners
lost the case, they have effectively been living in city-owned
property for several years now. Connecticut Governor M. Jodi Rell,
a Republican, has called for a moratorium on takings until the
legislature can consider a pending bill on the subject. The city
of New London has become embittered, to say the least. The nldc,
whose executives are not elected, ran through nearly all of its
$73 million and went begging to the city for an additional $4
million in 2003. The city council agreed and then changed its
mind after the nldc demanded that the city immediately bond the
money, which would have meant an even greater tax hike for its
citizens. The council’s relationship with the nldc deteriorated
so badly that after two years of haggling, in March 2005, the
council and nldc entered into mediation workshops with a professional
conflict resolution consultant.
As the Kelo
majority noted, it is now a matter for individual state legislatures
and state courts. While a lot of hot air has been blowing, it
remains to be seen whether Connecticut or other states will reverse
their course as Michigan has done. Political passions, after all,
come and go. It is worth bearing in mind that it took Michigan’s
high court 23 years to reverse itself after what had been one
of the greatest mass uprootings of a civilian population in America
since the 1950s, when Robert Moses used eminent domain as a blunt
instrument to slice the Bronx in half to build the Cross Bronx
Expressway. If we are to be serious about eradicating economic
development takings, it must become an issue that is more than
just a passing political fad.
Carla
T. Main, a former opinion page editor at the National Law Journal,
writes often about law and society. She lives in Jersey City,
New Jersey.
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18 Kathleen M. Sullivan, “The
Justices of Rules and Standards,” Harvard Law Review 106
(November, 1992).