To know more about socialized medicine—and our future under Obamacare—check out the Department of Veterans’ Affairs health care scandals. The scandals encompass service failure, egregious cost overruns and delays, and basic failures (such as blood test mixups) that would be comical if not so dangerous.
Obviously, the U.S. Government and the American public owe a debt to our military veterans, but socialized medicine is a poor way to discharge it. Vets are entitled to the best we can offer, not to Soviet-style incompetence.
And the underlying situation is probably far worse than the scandals we know about. Among the bad things I became familiar with when working in socialized institutions (in my case, state universities) were the inefficiencies—not exactly corrupt, but stupid and expensive for the taxpayers—that persist year after year without any outsiders taking notice. In private companies, most of those inefficiencies would dissolve before the demands of market competition. In socialized institutions, they go on and on . . . and on.
The idea that the government has to own facilities in order to provide services is a discredited relic of the past. Other government health services—including Medicare and Medicaid—allow patients to visit private facilities and use private physicians. Great Britain began its government health care system with the socialized delivery model, but has largely abandoned it.
Unfortunately, under Obamacare we are likely to see more socialism rather than less. The problems with the government-run “exchanges” represent only the beginning.
Under pressure of the VA scandals, the Obama administration is permitting vets to opt for free market providers, but the question remains, “Why is it necessary for the government to directly own health care facilities at all?
When I first heard about King v. Burwell, the latest Obamacare controversy before the U.S. Supreme Court, I assumed it was the kind of case in which the legislative intent was clear, but for one reason or another the wording of the statute did not match the legislative intent.
That would have been an interesting case, because it would have given the Court a chance to struggle with age-old “intent vs. text” questions.
It turns out, though, that the legislative intent is unclear—if there was any unified intent at all. And the statute is at least as messy as the evidence of intent.
First as the intent: Whether Congress intended for tax credits to go to citizens of states that had not adopted state insurance exchanges depends on whom you ask. The government now says “yes,” but Obamacare architect Jonathan Gruber was captured in two separate YouTube videos saying “no.” In those videos, he claims that tax credits were to be limited to states that set up their own exchanges as a way of inducing states to cooperate (no exchange, no tax credits). Some in the media assert that a decision for the plaintiffs (limiting credits to insurance purchased on state-created exchanges) would create “chaos”—but if Gruber is right, then that was exactly what Congress wanted.
Now for the text: Reading the record in this case give you some idea of how poorly drafted the Obamacare law is. Section 1311(b)(1) of the statute requires the states to establish exchanges. A provision just a few sections later (1321(b)) tells states they may elect to establish exchanges, and another (1321(c)) provides for federally-created substitutes.
Still another section says that tax credits are available for insurance purchased on “exchanges.” In at least two provisions, the statute inserts cross references that make it crystal clear it means state-created exchanges—not the federally-created substitutes.
But still other provisions seem to assume that state-created exchanges, and therefore the tax credits, will exist in all states. But for this to be so, then the statute’s drafters had to assume that the first section (mentioned above) ordering the states to set up such exchanges was valid. Problem is, that section is clearly unconstitutional: The Supreme Court has ruled several times that the federal government may not simply order a state to adopt a law or perform a task. Whoever wrote that section had never studied elementary constitutional law, or perhaps didn’t care.
There’s another wrinkle: The way the case got to the Supreme Court is that the plaintiffs challenged an IRS interpretation of the statute. Specifically, the IRS read the law as requiring tax credits in all states. Now, as a rule of thumb (under the Court’s Chevron holding), the Court defers to any reasonable executive-branch interpretation of an ambiguous statute. But the traditional legislative grace canon holds that the Chevron rule doesn’t apply in tax-credit cases, because taxation is so central to the legislative (as opposed to the executive) power.
One argument for tax credits in all states, possibly originated by Justice Kennedy, acknowledges that the law’s mandate on states to create exchanges is unconstitutional. It also assumes that interpreting the statute to provide for credits only in states that establish their own exchanges would be unconstitutional as excessive federal “coercion.” This argument therefore concludes that the statute must be construed to provide for tax credits in all states.
There are two problems with this argument. First, if severe financial consequences for state non-cooperation constitute “coercion,” then certain other federal welfare programs, particularly Medicaid, are unconstitutional. It is unlikely that anyone who would advance this argument would really support that result. Second, by universalizing the tax credits, this argument rewards an overreaching federal government by authorizing it to spend even more money and thereby control even more lives than otherwise. It is an elementary legal principle that no one should be rewarded for his own wrong.
When faced with incurable problems in a statute, judges’ time-honored solution is to kick the issue back to the political branches for a solution. (The courts often follow a similar approach in the common law—that is, ruling in a way that forces the parties to negotiate their way out of the problem.)
Deciding the case for the plaintiffs (denying tax credits in states that do not adopt exchanges) will create either (1) a mess intended by Congress or (2) a mess not intended by Congress. Either way, the public anger generated by loss of tax credits will force Congress and the President to work together to clear matters up.
That’s exactly what the Supreme Court should do.
Filed under: All Postings, ObamaCare, The Founding, supreme court
Chief Justice John Marshall (in office 1801-1835) is often identified with an expansive “big government” interpretation of the Constitution. Fans of big government cite him as an ally; opponents as an enemy.
This view of Marshall is a caricature. It is true that Marshall was a Federalist—he occupied a place on the political spectrum of his day closer to Alexander Hamilton than to Thomas Jefferson. But to say that he subscribed wholly to Hamilton’s constitutional views would be untrue. It is even more inaccurate to claim him as a justice who would uphold the constitutionality of the modern federal regulatory welfare state. Marshall was far more moderate than that.
The caricature of our greatest Chief Justice was created in his own time by his political opponents. In the modern era it has been nurtured by “progressives” who claim Marshall for their version of the Constitution. Among the latter group are Supreme Court justices who quote his words out of context, book authors who omit critical passages from his opinions, and law professors unfamiliar with other things Marshall wrote and with the law and language of his time.
In 2011, I authored an article correcting the record. I also co-authored another with the Independence Institute’s own Dave Kopel, explaining why Marshall would have held Obamacare to be unconstitutional.
Now Dr. Thomas K. Lindsay of the Texas Public Policy Foundation has joined in. A new contribution by Dr. Lindsay relies mostly on my research, but he introduces it to a new and much larger audience. You can read Dr. Lindsay’s essay here.
The Constitution requires the President to “take Care that the Laws be faithfully executed.” This “take Care” language came from 18th century commissions and formal instructions by which higher officials delineated what lower officials were to do. The premier examples were royal instructions to colonial governors, but the Continental and Confederation Congresses used the same language in instructing civil and military officials.
The Constitution’s language is both a grant of enumerated power to the President and a mandatory duty imposed on him.
The Obama administration’s partial refusal to enforce various laws has raised questions of whether the President is violating the Constitution’s command, and thus committing an impeachable offense.
The question can be a difficult one, because everyone recognizes that the President has some discretion in exercise of the executive power. For example, the cost of full enforcement might be far greater than the appropriated funds for enforcement, requiring the President to set priorties. Also, fully enforcing the law against some persons technically in violation can work great injustice.
So is Obama violating his constitutional duty or not? Legal scholar Zachary Price examines this question in a thoughtful, balanced article written for Vanderbilt Law Review.
He concludes that in its partial non-enforcement of marijuana laws, Obama is within the scope of his discretion, although somewhat close to the line. Obama crossed the line, however, in refusing to enforce mandates imposed by the Affordable Care Act (Obamacare) and in granting exemptions from the immigration laws to whole classes of people.
Professor Price finds that the George W. Bush administration also exceeded the scope of its discretion in underenforcing “New Source Review” environmental laws.
Filed under: All Postings, ObamaCare, The Founding, supreme court
But if a “conservative” justice is one who consistently interprets the Constitution in accordance with traditional methods of judging—as the Founders intended for it to be interpreted—then the Court is anything but conservative.
On social issues the Court has been pushing society to the Left. Otherwise, the best description of its jurisprudence is “status quo.” And in this instance, preserving the status quo renders the Court liberal, not conservative.
That is because the status quo the justices are preserving is a body of liberal jurisprudence created in the 20th century when the Court was usually controlled by “progressive” majorities.
The Court’s tendency to protect liberal jurisprudence appears even in cases where the specific outcomes are pleasing to conservatives. In fact, the “conservative” outcomes often are relatively marginal—minor victories—while the jurisprudence that underlies the result is a major triumph for liberals.
Three cases from the Supreme Court term illustrate the point.
The first is the famous Hobby Lobby case, in which the Court ruled that the Religious Freedom Restoration Act (RFRA) protects an employer’s right not to provide abortifacients. I have written elsewhere about a liberal victory in Hobby Lobby that received almost no publicity. But there was another, more important, liberal victory on a point of fundamental principle.
The Hobby Lobby dispute arose from federal regulations of employment and of health insurance purportedly authorized by Congress in the Affordable Care Act (Obamacare). Unlike the “tax” justification for Obamacare’s individual insurance mandate, the supposed constitutional basis for those regulations is Congress’s Commerce Power, contained in the Constitution’s Commerce Clause and Necessary and Proper Clause.
Everyone concedes, at least in theory, that Congress has only the authority the Constitution grants it—Congress’s “enumerated powers.” But properly construed, Congress’s enumerated power to regulate “Commerce” does not encompass employment relations or insurance, except in some peripheral situations. The Supreme Court recognized this consistently for the Constitution’s first 150 years. Indeed, during that time the Court held repeatedly, and unanimously, that most insurance is NOT “Commerce.” It was not until “progressive” justices took control in in the late 1930s and 1940s that the rules changed, and it was not until relatively recently that Congress began systematically to interfere in the insurance market.
A bench consisting of traditional (conservative) justices, therefore, would have held that the Obamacare regulations were outside the federal government’s enumerated powers, and thereby invalid for that reason. Such a court would not have reached the RFRA issue because there was no need to do so.
A second example from the Supreme Court term just past is the campaign finance decision in McCutcheon v. Federal Election Commission. This case invalidated a congressional effort to limit the total amount any person could donate to all candidates combined. The basis for the decision was the Free Speech Clause of the First Amendment. Media outlets have described this case also as a “conservative” triumph.
Yet a truly conservative court would never have reached the First Amendment issue because in presuming to regulate campaigns, Congress again exceeded its enumerated powers. The Constitution does confer on Congress authority to regulate the “Manner of holding [congressional] Elections.” But this constitutional grant does not extend to regulation of campaigns.
The scope of the constitutional grant is quite clear from the historical record, as I explained at length a 2010 article cited last year by Justice Thomas, the only member of the Court who consistently interprets the Constitution in the traditional (”conservative”) manner. Congress’s authority to regulate “the Manner of holding Elections” refers strictly to voting mechanics. For example, Congress may specify whether we vote by open or secret ballot and whether a candidate needs a majority to win or can win by a plurality. But the Constitution leaves regulation of campaigns to state laws governing defamation, corrupt practices, and so forth.
The Supreme Court did not hold that “Manner of Election” included campaigns until a “progressive” majority did so in 1941. The Court’s accompanying opinion was based on little or no inquiry into the real meaning of the constitutional language.
Yet in McCutcheon the justices (and the parties) accepted that suspect holding without question, and proceeded immediately to the First Amendment issue.
The third example from the term just ended is NLRB v. Noel Canning, which unanimously invalidated some of President Obama’s “recess appointments.” The Constitution’s Recess Appointments Clause is an enumerated power of the President that grants him the prerogative, without Senate consent, “to fill up all Vacancies that may happen during the Recess of the Senate.” The Court needed to decide (1) whether the “Recess” meant only the intersession recess or encompassed other breaks as well, and (2) whether for a vacancy to “happen” it had to arise during the recess or could merely continue into a recess.
The Founding-Era record is crystal clear on both questions: A “Recess” means only an intersession break and the vacancy must arise then. A traditional (“conservative”) bench would have so found. And, in fact, four justices did so find—relying on an article I wrote earlier this year that documented the Founders’ understanding at length.
But the majority did not follow the Recess Appointments Clause as the Founders understood it. Rather, it applied a sort of balancing test of the “living constitution” variety. President Obama lost only because he had violated even that flaccid and malleable standard.
The result was a small conservative victory, but at great cost: That cost was a complete revision and a serious weakening of an important constitutional check-and-balance—yet another example of the fundamentally liberal jurisprudence of a Court that many in the national media insist on calling “conservative.”
Filed under: All Postings, ObamaCare, The Founding, supreme court
Two years ago, the Supreme Court declared Obamacare’s penalty for failure to purchase conforming insurance to be a “tax.” Several plaintiffs subsequently sued in federal court arguing that the penalty is invalid for violating the Constitution’s Origination Clause. The Origination Clause says that “All Bills for raising Revenue shall originate in the House of Representatives; but the Senate may propose or concur with Amendments as on other Bills.”
The argument of the plaintiffs is that the Affordable Care Act and its taxes originated in the Senate, and that the tax/penalty is therefore void. (A 1990 Supreme Court case does strongly suggest that taxes originating in the Senate are void.) Thus far, those lawsuits have been unsuccessful, but they have provoked much commentary.
H.R. 3590 initially was a 6-page bill addressing (1) a federal income credit and (2) acceleration of certain estimated corporate income tax payments. The bill probably would have had little revenue effect, and may even have cost money. After H.R. 3590 passed the House, the Senate gutted it entirely and inserted 2,076 pages of Obamacare. The Senate voted for H.R. 3590 in that form, and transmitted it to the House, which likewise approved it.
As readers of this site know, I have my own political views, but I do my best to conduct objective research. And I insist on reporting my results whether I personally like them or not. In January, I began an independent research project to determine if the Origination Clause lawsuits have merit. The answer turns out to be both “yes” and “no.”
There are several key issues involved:
* The Constitution’s Origination Clause applies only to “Bills for raising Revenue.” What does that phase mean?
* Was the original H.R. 3590 a “Bill for raising Revenue?”
* If it was, then the Senate had power only to “propose or concur with Amendments as on other Bills.” What is an “Amendment” as the Constitution uses the word? Was the complete replacement of the text of H.R. 3590 an “Amendment?”
The most commonly-used sources for recovering original constitutional meaning are the records of the 1787 Philadelphia Convention, the debates in the state ratifying conventions, and orations and publications (such as The Federalist) issued in advance of ratification. I found, as some other scholars have, that this material was insufficient to explain the scope and meaning of the Origination Clause.
I often have to venture well beyond the sources customarily used, and that was the case here. The origination rule came from the British Parliament, so I examined 50 years of parliamentary debates, as well as historical works on Parliament. I read 18th century treatises on the topic. I examined the legislative records of American colonies. I also examined the legislative records of the Continental, Confederation, and first Federal Congresses. Finally, I studied the origination rules in the newly-independent American states (14 of them, counting Vermont). This required perusing early state constitutions and legislative records. I disregarded materials generated too late to have influenced the founders.
I embodied my conclusions in a new, and rather lengthy, article. Here they are:
* The constitutional phrase “Bill for raising Revenue” means a “tax” or a change in the tax code justifiable only under the Constitution’s Taxation Clause. (An exaction for regulating commerce is not a “Bill for raising Revenue.”)
* H.R. 3590 in its initial form was a “Bill for raising Revenue” as the Constitution uses that term. It does not matter that H.R. 3590 in that form was revenue-neutral or revenue-negative. All changes to the tax code are within the origination rule.
* H.R. 3590 properly arose in the House of Representatives.
* The Senate had power to propose “amendments” of H.R. 3590. An amendment could take the form of a compete substitution. In fact, I found a fair number of examples of founding-era legislatures amending measures by complete substitution.
* However, the constitutional word “Amendment” is limited to the subject matter of the original bill. The claim made by some writers that an “Amendment” could include an unrelated substitute turned out to be erroneous.
* In other words, the power of an amending chamber over a revenue bill is less than the power of an originating chamber.
* For constitutional purposes, all “Revenue” is the same subject matter, so it is irrelevant that the Senate’s revisions completely altered the nature of the taxes in H.R. 3590. Thus, because the Supreme Court has held the penalty to be a tax, the penalty was within the power of the Senate to add. Also valid are Obamacare’s other levies, such as the medical equipment tax.
* On the other hand, because the underlying H.R. 3590 was limited to the subject of revenue and any “Amendment” must address the same subject as the underlying bill, the Senate’s addition of regulations and appropriations was not within its power.
I concluded that the Origination Clause lawsuits are attacking the wrong part of the law. The invalid portions of Obamacare under the Origination Clause are not its taxes, but its multitude of appropriations and its regulations on health care providers, employers, insurance companies, and others.
One final observation: In dismissing one of the origination suits late last month, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit held that the Obamacare tax was not a “Bill for raising Revenue” because it was passed for regulatory purposes. But the anterior constitutional test is whether the initial H.R. 3590 was a revenue bill—and it certainly was, according to the constitutional definition.
If the Court of Appeals were correct that the penalty is regulatory, then the penalty would be invalid as outside the Senate’s amendment power.
More importantly, however, the Supreme Court specifically held that congressional regulatory purposes were outside the scope of Congress’s other enumerated powers. Only the Taxation Clause supports the penalty, and it can be preserved only as a tax.
The Hobby Lobby case is being hailed by freedom advocates as a great victory. On balance it certainly it is a victory for those who value personal freedom. But it also contains land mines that may one day prove destructive to freedom.
One of these land mines is how the justices treated the question of whether mandated abortifacient insurance promotes a “compelling government interest.”
In its principal opinion, the Court assumed for purposes of argument that the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) contraceptive mandate serves a compelling government interest. However, five members of the Court – a majority – went farther: Justice Kennedy stated in concurring opinion that the decision’s “premise” was that the federal government had a “compelling interest in the health of female employees.” The four dissenters affirmatively claimed that the mandate furthered “compelling interests in public health and women’s well being.”
The mandate in question was issued under the Affordable Care Act (ObamaCare). In 2011, a federal district judge found that another Obamacare mandate also served a “compelling interest” (Mead v. Holder).
It is a very serious matter when the Supreme Court classifies a law or other government action as serving a “compelling interest.” In the Court’s jurisprudence, most laws promote only “legitimate” interests, and a few promote legitimate interests that are “important” as well. On rare occasions, a legitimate interest is held also to be “compelling.” If a law is deemed “necessary” to advance the compelling interest, the law may actually overrule portions of the Bill of Rights. It also may overrule basic liberties listed elsewhere in the Constitution or in the Religious Freedom Restoration Act.
Although the ObamaCare mandate in Hobby Lobby ultimately did not override the Religious Freedom Restoration Act, the ObamaCare mandate in Mead v. Holder did.
In our federal system, the states enjoy broad powers to regulate to promote health, safety, morals, and general welfare. In other words, states can employ the law for many legitimate purposes. The Court has found that some of these legitimate purposes are compelling. For example, a state vaccination law designed to prevent epidemics may overrule one’s right to refuse vaccination. Similarly, the Court holds that a state’s interest in stamping out racial discrimination is not only legitimate, but compelling.
Still, the number of compelling interests is fairly small. Even state health laws usually are not compelling enough to overrule fundamental rights.
Unlike the states, the federal government is limited to the enumerated powers granted in the Constitution. The Supreme Court has ruled that some of these enumerated powers also serve compelling interests, such as national defense and Congress’s 14th Amendment authority to remedy discrimination by state governments. But federal peacetime economic regulations, like state laws, are almost never “compelling.”
That brings us to ObamaCare. The Affordable Care Act has all sorts of social and health care implications, but (aside from its taxes and spending provisions) it is justified constitutionally as a set of commercial and economic regulations. For example, when arguing that the Supreme Court should uphold ObamaCare, the president characterized it as “a[n] economic issue … that I think most people would clearly consider commerce.” In her Hobby Lobby dissent, Justice Ginsburg likewise cited economic factors to justify the contraceptive mandate.
Thus, despite ObamaCare’s health implications, its constitutional purpose is economics or, more precisely, commerce. ObamaCare’s regulations on insurance companies and employers, such as the contraceptive mandate, specifically are said to rest on the Constitution’s Commerce Clause. This is because the Constitution grants the federal government no enumerated power over health care. The great Chief Justice John Marshall made this very point in his famous opinion in Gibbons v. Odgen, when he wrote that “health laws of every description” were reserved exclusively to the states.
But if, constitutionally, ObamaCare is but a collection of economic regulations – and if peacetime economic interests are virtually never “compelling” – then why is ObamaCare different? Is it just that the ObamaCare is popular among the class of people who serve as federal judges?
The answer is that in this sense, ObamaCare is not different. It is constitutionally similar to many hundreds of other economic regulations enacted by Congress and the states. It is just more comprehensive and much more intrusive.
Now consider the risk to freedom from allowing such a law to be lifted to “compelling” status. That risk extends far beyond the threat to religious liberty. If, for example, providing “free” contraceptives is a compelling interest, then Congress might pass a law forcing companies to produce them. Or if forcing people to buy insurance serves a compelling interest, then federal officials might well demand laws to jail people who try to dissuade others from signing up.
Remember the Supreme Court’s formula: a law necessary to promote a compelling interest can override the Bill of Rights. ObamaCare is barely constitutional – if it is constitutional at all. We must not allow the courts to sanctify it.
Post script: More than two years ago, I predicted that the Supreme Court would dismiss the anti-mandate First Amendment claims and that Mead v. Holder raised the possibility that some judges would treat Obamacare as “compelling.” You read it here first!
The Results Are In: The Obamacare “Penalty” Didn’t Violate the Origination Clause, but Obamacare’s Regulations Did
Filed under: All Postings, ObamaCare, The Founding, supreme court
Is the penalty for not buying insurance in the Affordable Care Act (ACA—Obamacare) unconstitutional as a “tax” that originated in the Senate?
Under the Constitution’s Origination Clause, the answer appears to be “no”—the Senate’s decision to add the penalty to the underlying bill was not a violation of that Clause. But under the same provision, most of the remainder of Obamacare may be unconstitutional.
As I reported in February, I have been involved in a multi-month study into the meaning of the Constitution’s Origination Clause and its implications for the ACA. The Origination Clause is the Constitution’s rule that “All Bills for raising Revenue shall originate in the House of Representatives; but the Senate may propose or concur with Amendments as on other Bills.” My project was provoked by several federal lawsuits that claimed that because (1) the Supreme Court has held that the penalty for not buying insurance is a “tax,” and (2) the ACA law really originated in the Senate, therefore (3) the penalty was unconstitutionally adopted.
Here’s how the ACA became law: First, the House of Representatives passed H.R. 3590, a bill to expand a tax credit and force certain corporations to pay income taxes earlier than previously required. When H.R. 3590 went to the Senate, that body “amended” it to delete all six pages in the bill and insert the 2076-page ACA. This amendment “in the nature of a substitute” included not only the penalty for failing to purchase insurance, but a mass of other new taxes, appropriations, and regulations. The Senate then adopted the revised H.R. 3590 and sent it back to the House, which passed it.
Many people instinctively react against this procedure, but instinctive reaction is not the same as constitutional law. My job was to reconstruct the actual meaning of the Origination Clause, not expound what I would like it to mean. I therefore reviewed the debates over the Clause at the Constitutional Convention and in the ensuing ratification contest. I then turned to 18th century legislative vocabulary, procedures, and practice. This required reviewing 50 years of British parliamentary records; examining several decades of legislative records in 14 American colonies and states; consulting 18th century treatises and other writings; and reviewing the records of the Continental Congress (1774-81), the Confederation Congress (1781-89), and the First Federal Congress (1789-91). Here is what I learned:
* Any measure that alters the tax code to raise or reduce revenue is a “Bill for raising Revenue.” Another way to state it is that any law that can be justified only by the Taxation Clause (I-8-1) rather than by some other enumerated power is a “Bill for raising Revenue.” Thus, the original H.R. 3590 qualified as a “Bill for raising Revenue” as the Constitution uses the term, even though it was revenue-neutral or revenue-negative.
* The Constitution permits the Senate to adopt “Amendments” to “Bills for raising Revenue.”
* The Senate’s “Amendment” of H.R. 3590 was what is called a “complete substitute.” I could find no precedents for complete substitutes in British parliamentary practice, but they did exist in early American practice.
* The constitutional term “Amendments” is broad, but not unlimited in scope. As the Founders used the word, an “amendment” might make virtually any kind of alteration in the underlying bill, BUT it had to address the same subject matter as the underlying bill. This rule also applied to amendments that, like H.R. 3590, were complete substitutes.
* For constitutional purposes, all tax/revenue measures are deemed to address the same subject as all other tax/revenue measures. So even an amendment (or substitute) that completely changes the taxes in the underlying bill is a valid amendment.
* Given the Supreme Court’s decision that the penalty for not buying insurance is a “tax” (a decision that was erroneous, but is now settled law) the Senate was within the rightful scope of its amendment power by adding the penalty and other taxes to the original H.R. 3950.
* However, the original H.R. 3590 addressed only taxes. The House could have added appropriations or regulations, but it did not. The Senate not only added the penalty/tax. It also inserted appropriations for various purposes and regulations on health care providers, employers, and insurance companies.
*The added regulations did NOT address the same subject (revenue) as the underlying H.R. 3590. It was therefore outside the amendment power of the Senate to add those regulations. From an originalist point of view, those regulations are void as never properly enacted, even though the House voted for them.
* This is true even though the Senate could have originated the regulations itself in a separate bill. When amending a revenue bill, the Senate does not have power as broad as it does when originating its own (non-revenue) bills.
* In addition, the Senate inserted appropriations into H.R. 3590. These probably was also outside the Senate’s amendment power.
A court constrained by the Supreme Court’s Obamacare decision, but otherwise applying the Constitution’s original meaning, should rule as follows: It should uphold the ACA’s taxes, including the penalty for not buying insurance, but strike down the regulations and appropriations in the law.
The Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act (PPACA or “Obamacare”) imposes a sliding-scale financial penalty on people who do not buy health insurance conforming to federal standards. In NFIB v. Sebelius, the Supreme Court upheld the penalty as a constitutional “tax.”
But that may not be the last word on its constitutionality.
A lawsuit brought by Matt Sissel, a self-employed artist, contends that the penalty is void under a provision in the Constitution called the Origination Clause: Article I, Section 7, Clause 1. It reads as follows:
“All Bills for raising Revenue shall originate in the House of Representatives; but the Senate may propose or concur with Amendments as on other Bills.”
As a tax, Sissel argues, the financial penalty is “for raising Revenue.” He then notes how Obamacare was adopted: First, the House passed H.R. 3590, which created a first-time homebuyer tax credit for armed services personnel and “accelerated” certain estimated corporate income tax payments. Next, when H.R. 3590 came to the Senate, that body gutted it and inserted the PPACA instead, which the Senate then passed. Finally, the House passed the new H.R. 3590. So as a practical matter, Sissel says, the Obamacare tax originated in the Senate—not, as constitutionally required, in the House.
If Sissel is right, then the same defect may afflict other levies imposed by Obamacare, such as the one on medical devices.
The case turns on two overarching issues:
(1) Is the penalty for not buying insurance a measure “for raising Revenue?” and
(2) Did the Senate’s action in gutting the original bill and replacing it with Obamacare constitute an “Amendment?”
Only if the penalty was “for raising Revenue” did the Origination Clause apply. Only if the Senate’s changes exceeded the scope of permissible “Amendment” (and thereby constituted an entirely new bill) did Obamacare unconstitutionally arise in the Senate.
In defending the law, the government argues that the penalty, even if the Supreme Court calls it a “tax,” was imposed for independent regulatory reasons, not to raise money. The government also argues that “gut and replace” is a permissible amendment procedure.
In my investigations, I’ve found—at least thus far—that the answer to the first question is a lot easier than the answer to the second.
As to the first question: It is clear that the financial penalty in Obamacare was adopted primarily to regulate the economy pursuant to the Commerce Power (Commerce Clause + Necessary and Proper Clause). If the penalty were valid as a regulatory measure, it would not be “for raising Revenue,” either under the Constitution’s original meaning or under Supreme Court precedent.
The problem for the government, however, is that in NFIB v. Sebelius the Supreme Court held that the penalty was NOT valid as regulatory measure because it exceeded Congress’s Commerce Power. The penalty’s sole constitutional justification was the revenue it could raise—estimated at $4 billion per year by 2017. (Recent revelations about the number of people who are spurning Obamacare-approved health insurance suggests this number may be far too low.)
In other words, the Obamacare penalty for not buying insurance is valid only as a revenue-raising measure, and the NFIB v. Sebelius decision compels the courts to treat it as such.
The second issue is whether the Senate’s action in gutting the original bill and replacing it with something else constituted an “Amendment.” If it was not, then Obamacare’s levies really arose in the Senate, and are unconstitutional.
This is a much harder question to answer. It requires first addressing a number of others:
* What was the understanding of those who ratified the Constitution as to the scope of an amendment?
* If the ratifiers’ understanding on this subject is not clearly ascertainable, then what was the original public meaning of the term “Amendment?” Answering this question requires going beyond the public discussion during the ratification debates and into sources such as 18th century dictionaries and treatises, and the records of contemporaneous legislatures—specifically of the British Parliament, the American colonial assemblies, and the legislatures of the newly independent states.
Previous treatments of these “originalist” questions in law journal articles are distinctly mediocre. This is a common problem because, as I have pointed out elsewhere, most legal scholars are ill-equipped for historical work or too agenda-driven to accomplish it reliably.
Anyway, the questions continue:
* If the scope of “Amendment” requires a subject-matter connection to the original bill, then how much connection is necessary? The original H.R. 3590 was not about health care or health insurance at all. Does that mean that the Senate changes exceeded the scope of “Amendment?”
* But the original H.R. 3590 was connected to revenue! It would have amended the Internal Revenue Code to create a tax credit. Is this sufficient?
* If not, consider that the original H.R. 3590 not only helped a popular group (armed services homebuyers), but it also “paid for” their benefit by sticking it to an unpopular group (larger corporations). Specifically, the measure “accelerated” estimated corporate income taxes. Instead of larger corporations having to pay 100.25% of their taxes in advance, the original H.R. 3590 would have required them to pay 100.75% in advance. Of course, the corporations would have gotten their excess back eventually. But, as everyone in government knows, estimated tax “acceleration” is really a forced loan that makes cash flow to the government faster so as to create bookkeeping entries that cover other shortfalls. It is a financial stunt to enable politicians to effectively increase taxes by giving the government earlier use of citizens’ money, while enabling those politicians to claim they really didn’t raise taxes. So if this part of H.R. 3590 raised money, is this a sufficient connection with the Obamacare taxes to render Obamacare a mere “Amendment?”
I don’t know. But the investigation continues. Stay tuned.
Filed under: All Postings, ObamaCare, The Founding, supreme court
Does a state have the right to nullify federal statutes the state considers unconstitutional? This depends largely on how you define “nullification.” It also depends on what you mean by “right” and what kind of document you understand the Constitution to be. In other words, it depends on your premises.
Unfortunately, people often discuss—and debate, and attack each other over—the merits or demerits of nullification without making their premises clear. The result is much quarreling among people who are fundamentally on the same side.
Historically, “nullification” was defined quite narrowly. It referred to a formal ordinance of a state legislature or state convention that declared a federal law void within the boundaries of the state. The state might or might not make the ordinance conditional, and it might or might not impose criminal or civil penalties on persons attempting to enforce the federal enactment. We can refer to this as the narrow, or historical, definition of nullification. It is traditionally credited to the Kentucky Resolutions of 1798, drafted by Thomas Jefferson.
Today the term often is used in a much broader sense by advocates, by opponents, and often by the press. So used, it refers as well to other mechanisms a state may deploy to assert its prerogatives against federal overreaching—that is, to other methods of what James Madison called “interposition.” The Tenth Amendment Center often uses “nullification” in this broad way.
Thus, “interposition” (by Madison’s definition) or “nullification” (by a broad definition) can refer to state actions such as:
* State legislative and executive expressions of opinion against a federal measure;
* State lobbying pressure to get the measure changed or repealed;
* State-sponsored lawsuits against federal actions deemed unconstitutional;
* Political coordination among states to promote change or repeal;
* Refusal of states to accept federal grants-in-aid attached to obnoxious conditions;
* Refusal of states to allow their officials to cooperate in the execution of federal programs;
* Refusal of states to render a particular activity that is a federal crime illegal under state law as well (e.g., the use of marijuana in Colorado and Washington); and
* The state application and convention process of Article V.
Constitutional wonks will recall that Madison anticipated most of these in Federalist No. 46, and included the others in later writings.
All of the interposition methods listed above are perfectly legal and constitutional. For example, there is certainly no requirement that a state duplicate federal crimes in its own statute books, and the Supreme Court has said repeatedly (and held expressly in the NFIB v. Sebelius, the Obamacare case) that the federal government may not “commandeer” state officials in service of federal policy.
Clearly, calling these modes of interposition “nullification” does not render them unconstitutional or wrong.
On the other hand, there are methods of interposition that the Constitution does not authorize. In other words, they are extra-constitutional. Nevertheless, the Founders believed that natural law reserves them to the people in some circumstances.
The most dramatic illustration of an extra-constitutional remedy reserved by natural law is the right of armed revolution, which Madison also discussed in Federalist No. 46. He later stressed that the people should resort to extra-constitutional methods only when the constitutional compact has been irretrievably broken.
Both historically and today, the most serious nullification disputes center on whether states enjoy the constitutional prerogative of adopting formal nullification ordinances. In other words: Does a state have the constitutional power to void what it perceives to be an unconstitutional federal law?
Let’s try to isolate some of the issues:
First: It is clear that in the extreme conditions justifying revolution, resistance need not be conducted solely by private individuals or groups. States may participate officially, as the colonies/states did during the years 1775-83. This is the scenario Madison presented in Federalist No. 46. Obviously, in these circumstances a state may declare federal law void within its boundaries. But this power flows from natural law, not from the Constitution (which in revolutionary circumstances, you recall, would have been irretrievably broken).
Second: What of our current situation—that is,when there is no revolution, the union continues, federal laws are still widely obeyed, and the Constitution is still largely in operation? In those circumstances, may a state declare void a judicially-sustained federal law that the state deems unconstitutional? The answer to this question turns largely on your conclusion as to the fundamental nature of the Constitution.
Third: What is that fundamental nature?
The Constitution has been characterized as:
* A compact (i.e., contract) to which only the states are parties, by which the states granted power to federal officials. This is the pure interstate compact theory, expressed in Jefferson’s 1798 Kentucky Resolutions.
* A “compound” compact, created by the people but to which the states are parties. This was apparently Madison’s post-ratification view (see, for example, the equivocal wording about the nature of the Constitution in his Notes on Nullification), and may have underlain his 1798 Virginia Resolution.
* A popular grant: that is, a grant of power from the people—mostly to federal legislators and officials, but in some cases to state legislative authorities (as in the Time, Places, and Manner Clause) or to state legislators (as in Article V). This view was expressed by some of the seven state legislatures that formally repudiated the Kentucky and Virginia Resolutions. It also was Chief Justice John Marshall’s conclusion in the famous case of McCulloch v. Maryland (1819).
You can make the best case for narrow-definition nullification as a constitutional prerogative if you adopt the first of the three alternatives. The basic idea is that if other states have broken the compact by letting their agent (the federal government) run amok, then aggrieved states (compacting parties) have the right to protect themselves.
On the other hand, if you adopt the popular grant theory it is much more difficult to justify nullification. This is because the people, not the states, are the parties. By this analysis, the states may, as agents of the people, protest, sue, and protect their own governmental operations, but they may not void federal actions unilaterally, except by their legislators using their delegated power to amend under Article V.
And if you subscribe to Madison’s mixed theory, then, as Madison pointed out in 1830 and again in 1834, there also are conceptual problems with considering nullification as a constitutional right rather than just a natural law remedy.
Fourth: So, again, we must ask, “Which of the three theories of the Constitution is correct?”—state compact, compound compact, or popular grant?
The answer to this question depends on the dominant understanding of (or meaning to) the people who ratified the Constitution between 1787 and 1790.
The answer does not depend on what Thomas Jefferson or James Madison wrote in the Resolutions of 1798, or on what other states proclaimed when they rejected those Resolutions. Even more clearly, the answer does not depend on what Chief Justice Marshall concluded in 1819, or what Madison, John C. Calhoun, or anyone else said in the 1830s.
Anyone who has made an honest study of the ratification has to offer conclusions on this particular subject with humility. The ratification record can be confusing and the prevailing meaning at the time can be hard to reconstruct. For example, it is not sufficient to note that the Founders referred to the Constitution as a “compact.” This is because they used that word to refer both to governments established by states (confederations) and to governments established among the people alone.
Nor is it sufficient, as do some writers popular among constitutionalists, to focus only the ratification debates within selected states. You have to view the wider picture. Similarly, it is insufficient to rely merely on a few key Founders, such as Madison, Hamilton, or Jefferson. There were 1648 ratifying delegates—not just two or three—and many had important things to say. So did the orators, newspaper writers, and pamphleteers who influenced them. Jefferson was a great man, but his opinions on the meaning of the Constitution have little value, since as our ambassador to France, he did not participate in the framing or ratification.
Nor can you rely only on the express language of the ratification debate. You have to get into the heads of the ratifiers by reading what they read, and understanding their jurisprudence and their customs.
This is not the place to get into the details (this posting is already too compendious). Suffice to say that long study of the ratification record convinced me that most of the ratifiers probably thought of the Constitution as a grant from the American people rather than as a compact among states, pure or compound (as I once thought). I set forth several of my reasons in The Original Constitution: What It Actually Said and Meant.
At this point, I’ll explain just one reason. (But for for another see here.) It has to do with how 18th century English speakers drafted and read legal documents.
The Constitution famously begins with the phrase “We the People.” States are not mentioned. Now, the script and the placement of that phrase was no accident. It followed the custom by which legal documents granting power listed the grantor first. Thus, in royal charters granting rights and privileges to citizens, the king—that is, the grantor—always appeared first in large and ornate script. (A wholly typical example is the royal charter of Dartmouth College.) Although the Articles of Confederation had given that placement to the states, the Constitution afforded it to the people alone.
How do we know the delegates to the ratifying conventions caught the implications of this? Because some of them said so. For example, William Findley, an Anti-Federalist spokesman at the Pennsylvania ratifying convention, observed:
“In the Preamble, it is said, ‘We the People,” and not ‘We the States,’ which therefore is a compact between individuals entering into society, and not between separate states enjoying independent power and delegating a portion of that power for their common benefit.”
And Findley’s leading adversary at the convention, James Wilson, agreed with him on this point.
Anti-Federalists not only understood, they objected vehemently. Patrick Henry, chief Anti-Federalist at the Virginia ratifying convention, demanded to know: “Who authorized [the Framers]to speak the language of, We, the people, instead of, We, the states?”
As events turned out, the delegates elected to represent the people of Pennsylvania and Virginia decided to accept that language. The Virginia delegates even recited in their ratification instrument that “the powers granted under the Constitution [are] derived from the People of the United States.” The delegates in every other state also accepted the “We the People” formulation. Incidentally, among the delegates most responsible for Henry’s defeat on his home ground were two young men named James Madison and John Marshall.
Finally: Once the pure state compact theory falls, it is very hard to justify nullification (narrowly defined) as a constitutional remedy. It remains instead a remedy reserved by natural law for when the Constitution has wholly failed—in other words, in situations justifying revolution.