By Christopher Elmendorf
Professor of Law, UC Davis School of Law
Judge Easterbrook’s opinion upholding Wisconsin’s voter ID requirement asks the right questions.
Earlier this week Rick Hasen blasted Judge Easterbrook’s opinion upholding Wisconsin’s voter ID requirement as cavalier with the facts and “heartless and dismissive” in tone. But in one respect the opinion is extremely helpful: it asks the right questions.
Three questions foregrounded by Easterbrook are particularly important to the future of the Voting Rights Act:
- What limiting principle keeps the Section 2 “results test” from obligating every state to tinker with its election machinery until rates of voter participation by race have been equalized?
- Insofar as Section 2 conditions state obligations on past or present societal discrimination, how does this square with the 14th and 15th Amendments, which by their terms reach only state action?
- To what extent are the “fact” questions in Section 2 cases questions that district judges should try to answer on the basis of expert testimony, as opposed to questions of belief, faith, or policy that ought to be settled by appellate courts as a matter of law?
As this post will explain, Judge Easterbrook’s answers to these questions are not convincing. But unless proponents of robust voting rights protections come forth with better answers—answers that a conservative judge can appreciate—Easterbrook’s opinion is likely to prove a harbinger of things to come at the Supreme Court.
- Does the “results test” of Section 2 obligate states to adjust their election rules so as to equalize rates of voter participation across racial groups?
For Judge Easterbrook this question is rhetorical. An affirmative answer would be “implausible,” he says. Perhaps more to the point, but unstated: an affirmative answer would make Section 2 a powerful voting wars weapon for the Democratic Party. This much conservative jurists are likely to resist.
But what limiting principle would permit a court to strike down Wisconsin’s voter ID law, or Ohio’s or North Carolina’s recent rollbacks of early voting and same-day registration, without also compelling states to adopt every feasible election administration reform that would tend to equalize political participation across racial groups?
Ruling in the Ohio and North Carolina cases, liberal panels of the Sixth and Fourth Circuits suggested that the reach of Section 2 depends on “social and historical conditions.” The argument, in a nutshell, is that blacks and Latinos faced substantial disparate-treatment discrimination in the past; that some societal discrimination continues in the present day; that the lower socioeconomic status of blacks and Latinos is due in part to such discrimination; and that Section 2 therefore obligates the states to remove any barrier to voting which in practice limits participation by low-SES voters relative to high-SES voters. This argument, though plausible as a matter of statutory construction, is less a limiting principle than a principled basis for no limits. There is a history of discrimination against racial minorities almost everywhere.
Judge Easterbrook offered a different and severely limiting principle: Racial inequalities in rates of voter participation violate the results test only if the state has made registration and voting very difficult for a class of citizens, defined by race or color, that is under-represented in the voter turnout statistics.
Easterbrook’s rule is dubious as a matter of statutory construction and ironic to boot. His rule would make the Section 2 redundant with the equal protection clause in election administration cases. Yet when Congress enacted the Section 2 results test, Congress was responding to a Supreme Court decision that read equal protection too narrowly. The whole point of the results test was to sweep more broadly, to provide a cause of action where minorities have formally equal opportunities to participate but too little “voting strength” in practice. It is also clear that the enacting Congress saw racial disparities in voter participation as a Section 2 problem, at least where there’s a pattern of official and societal discrimination.
So if Easterbrook’s limit is bad, and that of the Fourth and Sixth Circuits illusory (though principled), what else might do the job? One possibility is to treat Section 2 as reaching even minor voting barriers with a racially disparate impact, insofar as plaintiffs show that it is at least “significantly likely”—a relaxed evidentiary standard—that the voting requirements at issue (1) were enacted to diminish the number of votes cast by the racial minority, or (2) enable or encourage disparate-treatment discrimination by front-line election administrators, such a poll workers. Section 2 could also reach voting requirements that give electoral effect—via impacts on voter participation—to (3) disparate-treatment discrimination by state actors outside of the electoral realm (e.g. school or prison administrators); or even (4) discrimination in the larger society. However, if the significant likelihood test is to serve as a limit in practice, plaintiffs whose claims are predicated on societal discrimination should probably be expected to differentiate conditions in the defendant jurisdiction from typical conditions elsewhere.
I am not sure how the Wisconsin voter ID case would come out under this approach, but North Carolina’s rollback of same-day registration would clearly be vulnerable. In the latter case, the district court indicated that the question of discriminatory intent under the equal protection clause was close. A factual showing that almost establishes discriminatory intent under the equal protection clause should suffice to establish a “significant likelihood” of subjective discrimination for purposes of Section 2.
- Whither state action?
Objecting to “social and historical conditions” arguments, Judge Easterbrook wrote that Section 2 cannot be treated as a remedy for societal discrimination because societal discrimination does not violate the Constitution. That societal discrimination is beyond the Constitution’s ken (for want of “state action”) is very well established as a general matter. But might voting be different?
Certainly there are some hints that it is. As Ellen Katz has shown, the Waite Court, which rolled back the First Reconstruction in the late 19th century, pointedly sidestepped the question of whether Congress could use its enforcement power under the 15th Amendment to remedy societal discrimination that hinders minority political participation.
In the 1950s, the Supreme Court found state action in racially exclusionary straw poll conducted by a private political club. In the 1970s, the Supreme Court emphasized societal discrimination as it developed racial vote-dilution doctrine under the equal protection clause.
The Court later abandoned the racial vote dilution jurisprudence of the 1970s, but Congress in the 1982 amendments to the VRA provided a statutory remedy for the same injury. And, importantly, conservative judges in subsequent vote dilution cases have argued that there is no constitutional problem with the 1982 amendments so long as plaintiffs must show that white voters discriminate against minority candidates on the basis of the candidates’ race. Seemingly private discrimination by voters stands in for state action. Elsewhere I have argued that this apparent exception to the state-action requirement is no exception at all, once one recognizes that to put in office persons who wield the coercive power of the state is to perform a “public function.”
“Social and historical conditions” may also be relevant to a Section 2 claim not because societal discrimination can violate the 14th or 15th Amendments when it touches the right to vote, but because societal discrimination can create political incentives for elected officials to restrict voting by members of a racial group. If this argument is correct, it answers a question that has perplexed Easterbrook and other judges: Is racially polarized voting germane to “vote denial” claims under Section 2? Many courts and commenters have deemed it irrelevant. But if societal conditions matter for Section 2 because of the incentives they create for legislators and their agents, then racially polarized voting is centrally important to vote denial as well as vote dilution claims.
- Distinguishing “adjudicative” from “legislative” facts?
A few years ago, the Supreme Court upheld Indiana’s photo-ID requirement for voting on the theory that it promotes “public confidence” in the electoral process. Plaintiffs in the Wisconsin voter-ID case said this argument is now a loser because subsequent empirical research found no relationship between voter ID laws and citizens’ confidence that their ballots will be counted. Judge Easterbrook held that the new findings are irrelevant because the relationship between voter ID and public confidence is a “legislative fact,” rather than a fact to be determined on the record in a particular case.
The idea here is that some putative facts are essentially just matters of belief. These “facts” must be settled as a matter of law, or else the law itself will consist of nothing more than district judges applying their personal and quite divergent prior beliefs.
I think Easterbrook was wrong that voter ID / public confidence is such a fact. Questions about causation can in principle be answered with statistics when the question concerns some discrete intervention in the world, and there is a way to estimate counterfactual outcomes—e.g., voter confidence in the absence of the ID requirement.
However, many facts of central importance to Section 2 are quintessentially legislative. Here’s an example: to what extent are current socioeconomic disparities among racial groups due to disparate-treatment discrimination? The Democratic district judge in the Wisconsin voter ID case credited an expert who said race discrimination is mostly to blame. In another case, a Republican judge might rely on conservative scholars who maintain that socio-economic disparities are largely due to differences in human capital, which in turn (some conservatives say) are substantially unrelated to race discrimination.
If we’re going to be honest, we must admit that the accounting-for-socioeconomic-disparities question is one that statistics—and hence experts—probably cannot answer. I see no way to estimate the relevant counterfactual, i.e., the pattern of socioeconomic outcomes that would be observed today if the United States had had no history of race discrimination. Furthermore, judicial answers to the accounting-for-socioeconomic-disparities question implicitly depend on normative judgments about the relevance of discrimination that took places generations ago. Justice Roberts’s famous pronouncement, “Things have changed in the South,” is as much as normative as factual.
This is not to say that all questions about race discrimination and its consequences are unanswerable. Experts can make across-state and over-time comparisons of racial attitudes, for example, and of the “treatment effect” of race in experimental settings.
One could also argue that Section 2 delegates authority to district courts to find legislative facts, rather than reserving these questions to the courts of appeal. But however one comes down on this question, there can be little doubt that voting rights law would be much improved if judges paid a little more attention what can and cannot be learned from statistics. By asking courts to distinguish legislative from adjudicative facts, Judge Easterbrook has taken a small but potentially constructive step in this direction—even if the line he drew was misplaced.