







So, confession time: It is more difficult to keep up a weekly column than I originally thought it would be. When I took this on, I noticed that many of the weekly columns had burned out, and I decided to show these layabouts what a real weekly column looked like. None of this ‘three or four articles and then I’m done’ garbage. Firearms Friday would become a cornerstone of the Glibertarian community; A stalwart pillar representing the foundation of our proud website. Well, to those I privately disparaged, I apologize. It is not as easy to keep up a regular article as I anticipated, even one that has as much depth and variety as a gun themed screed. Nevertheless, I will persist with this as long as I can manage, which means you are stuck with me for the time being. This week, by popular demand, I will look into the business of making your own firearms yourself. Much hullabaloo has been raised and many gallons of digital ink spilled in reference to DIY guns, namely 3D printed guns and so called 80% receivers. Most of this ink has been accompanied by an equally copious amount of feces lining the panties of the writers of these various articles over the idea that anyone, ANYONE AT ALL, could build their own functional firearm in the comfort of their own home or garage with just a few simple tools or an inexpensive printer and a roll of plastic filament. Well, I am going start out up front with some bad news: you aren’t going to pop a working M60 out of your makerbot anytime soon, or probably ever.

Before I drop too many turds into this 3D printed punch bowl (so far this article has enough poop references to be a SugarFree piece) lets back up a bit and define some of these ideas more clearly. First off: What makes a gun a gun? Obviously it requires a specific quantity and type of parts as well as certain mechanical abilities, but at what point is it no longer just a pile of steel and wood? Legally, in America a gun is defined as the part designated as the frame or receiver. Every other part of the gun, including the barrel, trigger, stock, etc. is merely a part and can be bought and sold as freely as a toaster. The receiver, however, is always considered a firearm regardless of it’s functionality. It must be engraved with a unique serial number and is subject to all rules and regulations regarding working firearms. This means that you can buy all of the parts necessary to build a gun without any sort of paperwork or background check, except for the receiver which must be purchased either from a gun store (thus requiring a background check) or face to face from another resident of your home state (subject to local restrictions). At some point, some wise ass got to building a receiver, stopped before he drilled the last hole, and said “So this doesn’t count as a gun, right? LOL!” This pissed the ATF off, I’m sure, at which point they declared that almost a receiver IS a receiver, and then probably shot the guy’s dog. Well eventually people started asking questions about this ‘almost a receiver’ crap. Is a halfway finished receiver still a gun? How about a solid block of raw billet? The ATF realized they needed a concrete point at which a receiver was actually considered a firearm. They came out with a set of guidelines concerning what machining and manufacturing operations constituted a finished receiver, and guns meeting this definition were considered ‘finished’. You can take a piece of metal up to that point and it’s still just a piece of metal, but if you go one cunt hair over that line it is considered a receiver and you better have your papers in order. This is known as the 80% rule (considering most guns are black they probably should have called it the 4/5ths rule) and it is where the term ‘80% receiver’ comes from. By far the most common 80% receivers are for AR 15s, but you can also get them for AKs, 1911s, Glocks, and a whole slew of other guns.

So what does this mean for you? Well, it means you can buy one of these 80% receivers, finish it at home using a mill and/or other tools, buy the rest of the parts online, and build yourself a working baby killing death machine without any kind of background check or paper trail. At least, that’s what some people with an above average supply of tinfoil say. I personally am not so sure (more on that later). Confession #2, I have absolutely no working experience with 80% lowers or 3D printed firearms. I do, however, have some experience with CNC milling and additive manufacturing (3D printing), so I am aware of what is involved and what each is capable of. There are 2 common materials used in 80% AR lowers: polymer and aluminum. Polymer is not as strong or as stiff but is much lighter and much easier to shape. Polymer80 is the most well known of polymer AR lowers, and they sell a kit which will let you make a polymer lower using a drill press and a dremel. They also make 80% Glock frames as well. The other option is aluminum. Aluminum is much stronger but also heavier and not as forgiving to machine. 80% Arms has a kit for finishing an aluminum lower using a routing tool commonly used for woodworking. If you already have one then this is probably your best bet, or you can pick one up for about $80. An aluminum lower is going to take much longer to complete than a polymer one, but the end result should be much better quality. The initial cost for these kits are relatively high, but once you have them you can purchase more 80% lowers for cheap and finish them up for essentially free.

The big problem, however, is that these kits take a) time, b) a workspace, and c) a modicum of skill. Some people lack one or more of these items, making an 80% build problematic. Fortunately, there is a solution. For those of you on here who have not heard of Cody Wilson, shame on you. Turn your libertarian card in at the door, you just failed the purity test. Cody Wilson is basically the ancap equivalent of Che Guevara. At the age of 24, he founded a company called Defense Distributed. I am pretty sure he picked that name only because ‘Fuck the Police’ was already being used. His first order of business was to develop and release CAD models of a fully functional 3D printed handgun called the liberator, which I will discuss a little later. This caused such an uproar that the government forcibly took down and banned the files, citing ITAR infringement. He is currently suing the state department over the matter. Not one to rest on his laurels, he started his next big project, called the ghost gunner. The name comes from the term ‘ghost gun’, which California state senator Kevin De Leon made famous in a hilariously incoherent cringe inducing speech he made on the subject. The ghost gunner is a purpose built CNC mill specifically designed to machine AR lowers. Simply drop in an 80% lower of your choice, push a few buttons, and in about 2 hours a finished, working AR lower pops out. For a mere $1500, you too can crank out as many unregistered, untraceable AR lowers as your little heart desires. If $1500 seems a bit steep, I can assure you it is a pittance compared to what a traditional CNC mill will run, and the added software which makes finishing lowers as easy as running your microwave is a nice bonus.

I can already hear some of (((you))) now “$1500?! I can’t afford that! Isn’t there a cheaper way of doing it?” I’m glad you asked. For those of you that can’t afford the wonderful ghost gunner mentioned above, there is a slightly more economical option. With a suitable 3D printer and good quality polymer, you can, in fact, print an AR lower. There are working examples on the internet, and a decent 3D printer runs in the $200-$500 range. Now, don’t think it’s going to be as simple as pushing a button, or that you will get a working lower on your first try. I know from my experience with 3D printing that it is usually a trial and error process, and that it takes a very long time to print anything. Don’t expect to it to look great or be terribly durable either. I expect no more than a few thousand rounds out of a printed lower, tops. It does work however, and if you break it you can always print another one.

But there is a flaw with all of this. Ostensibly the point of making your own gun is to keep da gubmint from knowing about your ballistic proclivities. But does making an AR lower yourself actually do that? Technically Uncle Sugar is forbidden from maintaining a database of firearms purchases. I highly doubt anyone here actually believes that they do not, myself included. If we concede that the government is willing to break its own explicit laws to keep track of gun owners, however, then our logic eats itself. Remember that these lowers are not functional firearms themselves. You still have to buy quite a few components and assemble them. Unless you pay cash (or bitcoin) for every part of your gun and all of your ammo, then you’re already on the list. What about 3D printing, you ask. What about it? The only working gun that I am familiar with that can be 100% printed is the liberator, which is a single shot 380 pistol with no rifling. Half the time these explode when they are fired…. not exactly military grade. There are metal 3D printers, but they are hundreds of thousands of dollars and you can’t simply order one off of Amazon. In short, 3D printing is simply not a viable strategy for building a working gun, at least at the moment.
So, if you’re doing this to try to stay below the radar, then you’re probably better off simply buying a gun off of armslist from a private seller. If, however, you’re doing it cause you’re worried about a gun ban at some point down the road and you want your instruments of insurrection… well, you’re still boned, because I really doubt you’re going to be able to run down to Cabelas and pick up a lower parts kit and a barreled upper, no matter how many lowers you crank out. If you’re just doing it for funsies and to put a middle finger to the law, then have at it, my devious little anarchists! There is way too much ground to cover on this one topic in just a short article like this, so I highly recommend you do your own research if you’re interested in making your own guns.

Before I go, there is one upcoming product that I do want to mention, because I believe it is going to have a serious impact on the future of 80% firearms. Most of you are familiar with the Sig P320, but for those that are not, it is a striker fired handgun that was recently selected as the new issue sidearm for the US army, and probably all of the military will be issuing it in a few years. What makes the P320 unique is that the registered part of the gun, the part that makes it a gun, is not the frame. The P320 is built on a removable stamped steel chassis that allows you to change out grips and slides quickly and easily with no tools. You can switch out a broken frame for a new one in the field, or simply change your full sized pistol into a compact or subcompact one in a few minutes. A company called Ghost Guns (notice a pattern?) recently announced that they are releasing an 80% receiver for the P320. This has vast implications for a multitude of reasons. First off, the receiver of a P320 is remarkably simple. From looking at the videos released by ghost guns, a person should be able to finish a P320 80% lower with nothing more than a file and a hand drill, something most people already have and almost anyone can afford. Secondly, because the fire control group is removable as a single unit, that means that there is nothing limiting the chassis from being used in other guns. Imagine if a company released a rifle body that took AR magazines and used the P320 chassis as the trigger. Someone could buy one of these 80% kits, make themselves a P320 chassis, then install it into this rifle and have a working fighting gun, without ever doing a background check or even leaving the house. That is just one possibility for this system. I believe that we could be seeing the beginning of a whole new future for firearms development, and it is quite an exciting prospect.
America, in general, is a great place for libertarians. It is not perfect, of course, but to my knowledge, it is the only place on earth you can legally buy an ounce of weed and an AR 15 in the same day (although you may not want to publicly declare it since the weed is still federally regulated). In particular, our gun laws are some of the most permissive in the world, for better or worse, and we can own damn near anything we like. Our silencer laws, however, bite ass. For those that just woke up out of an extended coma or are learning English as a second language, silencers are long tubes you screw or clamp onto the muzzle of a gun which reduce the deafening boom accompanying a shot down to a more manageable level. They are also called suppressors or mufflers, the latter being probably the most accurate description since they function very much like the muffler of a car. They are primarily used for safety and comfort, since it is much nicer to not go deaf from your hobbies, and ear muffs can be uncomfortable and ineffective, along with other downsides. “Those sound like great inventions” you’re probably thinking. They are. Too bad they are damn near illegal here.

You see, about 80 years ago, a bunch of politicians decided to take their first really big shit on the second amendment, and boy did they deliver. It’s called the National Firearms Act. You may have heard me talk about it once or twice, and I promise I will mention it again in the future because you will never love a woman (or man, if that’s your bag) as much as I hate that piece of legislation. The NFA put a de facto ban on a whole bunch of fun, useful, and constitutionally protected items, including silencers. The silencer regulation was particularly painful because it affects all silencers, for all guns, for all reasons. There is absolutely no way you can own or possess one without going through the NFA. There’s no decibel threshold for what constitutes a silencer, either. If it reduces the sound signature of a firearm in any noticeable way, it is considered a silencer. You literally cannot legally make your gun quieter. I don’t think it’s difficult to grasp how infuriatingly asinine it is to prohibit an item that is dangerously loud from being made safer to use. What really puts the corn kernels in this shit sandwich is that, by itself, a silencer is completely harmless. They’re regulating ownership of an overpriced piece of sewer pipe. In terms of lethality, it’s somewhere above a metal spatula and below a large flashlight.

The thinking (and I use that word as loosely as possible) behind it is that criminals use silencers to muffle their murderous gunshots during crimes, thereby delaying or avoiding police intervention. Sounds reasonable, right? Except that it’s 100% horseshit. A silencer doesn’t actually silence anything, it simply reduces the sound of the gunshot down to hearing safe levels, and even with a silencer many guns still do require hearing protection. A silenced gun is still about as loud as a chainsaw or an ambulance siren. I don’t hear any morons in congress talking about making those louder for safety. Imagine if a law was introduced severely restricting mufflers on passenger vehicles in order to reduce collisions. It would be laughed right out of Congress, but change ‘cars’ to ‘guns’ and suddenly it’s common sense regulation!
To put this in perspective, a number of countries with significantly more restrictive firearm laws not only allow but encourage ownership and usage of silencers on firearms. Places like Norway, New Zealand, and Poland have essentially no restrictions at all on silencers, and even the gun hating utopia of the UK is relatively lax in their silencer ownership laws. When you’re doing worse than the UK at something gun related, you know you’ve got problems.

There is, however, some hope on the horizon. a few years ago some politicians got together and introduced the Hearing Protection Act, a name which puts a big trollish grin on my face every time I read it. The HPA would take silencers out of the purview of the NFA and treat them like a gun, requiring only a 4473 and a background check to purchase. It had fairly broad support in Congress, but never went anywhere because chocolate Jesus would have vetoed it on the spot. That all changed when Big Donny Sixgun came to town, though. With orange being the new black, the HPA has a real shot at getting passed. That shot got a little bit louder (or is it quieter?) recently when some clever fellow in Congress (oxymoron, I know) decided to roll all of the major provisions of the HPA into an otherwise boring little piece of paper called the ‘Sportsmen Heritage and Recreational Enhancement Act’ or SHARE Act. I wonder how much they pay people to come up with names for these bills. Is that where greeting card writers go after they’re promoted? Anywho, the bill was scheduled for a hearing on Wednesday, but some fucking dicknose bernie bro douche canoe had to go and put bullet holes in a couple of politicians that morning, and the hearing has been canceled until further notice. So, if that was your ultimate goal, you fuckstick, then mission accomplished. I am going to break my foot off in your ass when I see you in hell.
As far as I can tell, there is no other plausible explanation for his actions in retrospect.
Many of you watched the hearing as I did. Hell, I think it was watched by half of America (not including John McCain apparently). And its hard for me to comprehend how there are any true winners or losers here from either a legal standpoint other than maybe Loretta Lynch losing some footing as being above partisanship when it comes to her department’s handling of the Clinton private email server investigation.

But what should be attacked vigorously by any responsible authority tasked with oversight or any media talking head is Comey’s ability to be a man and do his job with any form of integrity whatsoever. Because he completely contradicted prior sworn testimony today by suggesting that Trump was attempting to influence him. And that he should have carried himself differently many times with interactions with the President in regards to how he reacted and how he reported (or failed to report) what he perceives months later as attempts to coerce or manipulate the FBI head into dropping investigations.
I’m sure there is some sense of being awe-struck by someone being summoned to the White House. I would like to think I’d be immune to that, but you never know. But the head of the nation’s federal law enforcement apparatus should never be of that mindset unless he is feeling guilty about something. He has spent his life climbing into situations and relationships that are complicated and him being somehow cowed by a President he believes is acting in an unprofessional and borderline-illegal way defies common sense.

Which leads me to my personal opinion: Comey is changing his tune because he feels like he was wronged. He deliberately leaked government property to a friend so they could be sent to the media. He allowed erroneous leaks to remain in the news in order to damage a President he didn’t care for. He contradicted prior sworn testimony in an attempt to change the public narrative on meetings that he considered “notingburgers” until he was fired to “possible attempts at coercion” in the aftermath of that termination.
Whatever your thoughts about Donald Trump are, whatever you think his relationship with the Russians was, and whatever you think the Democrats are attempting to accomplish here, one thing should be taken away by anybody with an ounce of brains: Comey is gutless or Comey is grinding his axe. I’ve made my decision. Please discuss yours in the comments.
Things were different in many ways a century ago, but in one respect it was like all places at all times: there were insurance agents.

Robert T. Cheek of St. Louis, Missouri, was one of those insurance agents, selling policies in his hometown for the Prudential Insurance Company. In the 1910s, after many years of what he obviously considered faithful service, he left his job and began looking for work with another insurer. He asked his former employer, Prudential, for a letter describing his work and the reasons he left.
Prudential refused to provide such a letter. Without such a “service letter” from his prior employer, Cheek had trouble getting another job in the insurance field. Insurance, as he claimed, was pretty much what Cheek knew, and he didn’t want to go into another line of work where he didn’t have so much experience. He thought he was being blacklisted.
So he sued Prudential in a state court in St. Louis. In that part of the case which is relevant for our purposes, Cheek said that Prudential had violated Missouri’s “service letter” statute. Missouri law required that an employee who had worked 90 days or longer for an employer could demand that his ex-boss provide a letter saying that he used to work for that boss, and explaining why he doesn’t work for that boss any longer.
States like Missouri which passed these “service letter” laws were concerned about employer blacklists. If an employee had crossed his ex-boss, the boss might just decide not to help that employee get new work. But if the boss was forced to give a service letter, the employee could obtain information about his work history, without which new employers might not want to take a chance on him. And if the ex-boss gave the former employer a bad reference, the employee could sue for defamation.
The trial court in Missouri threw out Cheek’s suit. Sure, Prudential hadn’t given Cheek a “service letter,” but it didn’t have to do so. Anyone, even an insurance company, has the right to free speech, which includes the “right of silence” – that is, the right not to talk.
Precedents from other states, like Georgia, indicated that service-letter statues violated the freedom not to speak, and therefore violated the freedom of speech as constitutionally guaranteed by state constitutions. Of course, a company didn’t have the right to lie about former employees – that would be defamation. But if an employer didn’t want to talk about an ex-employee, it shouldn’t be forced to talk.
Cheek took the case to the Supreme Court of Missouri, which in 1916 gave Cheek a victory and upheld the “service letter” law. Those other courts which had talked about a constitutional right to silence were simply out of harmony with the up-to-date enlightened principles of 1916. After all, all that the service letter law demanded was that a company give truthful information about former employees who had worked for them for three months or more. Disclosing accurate information – how could mandating that violate any company’s rights? The court spoke of the legislative struggle against blacklisting, and how the service letter law was a modest tool to help victims of that iniquitous practice.
Now it was Prudential’s turn to appeal, all the way to the United States Supreme Court. To defend his position, and the Missouri service letter law, Cheek had Frederick H. Bacon as his attorney.

Bacon, a Michigan native who practiced law in Missouri, had written a textbook on insurance law. Perhaps Cheek hired Bacon because of the attorney’s knowledge of the insurance industry, although this was not a specifically insurance-oriented case, but a broader labor-law case. And, as it turned out, a First Amendment case.
In those days, pretty much anyone with enough money could take their case to the United States Supreme Court. So many people exercised this right that there was a bit of a backlog, which may be why it took until 1922 for the U. S. Supremes to give their opinion in Prudential Insurance Company v. Cheek.
Most of the opinion dealt with the issue of economic freedom – in those days the Supremes still recognized the right of businesses to operate free from arbitrary government restrictions. But Missouri’s service-letter law was not arbitrary, said the majority opinion. Companies just had to provide accurate information about former employees. It wasn’t like Missouri was trying to cartelize the ice business or anything oppressive like that.
But the Supremes still had to deal with Prudential’s argument based on free speech, and the corollary right not to speak. Remarkably, the Supremes had not yet decided, one way or another, whether the First Amendment’s rights of free expression even applied to the states.
In 1907, the Supreme Court assumed, for the purpose of argument, that the 14th Amendment required the states to respect freedom of the press. But Thomas Patterson, said the Court, had abused his freedom of the press by criticizing the decisions of the Colorado Supreme Court in his newspaper, for which the state supreme court could legitimately convict him of contempt. Patterson, owner of the Rocky Mountain News and an influential Democrat, had run editorials and cartoons accusing the Colorado Supremes of acting in subservience to corporate interests when it awarded elections to Republicans and abolished home rule for the state’s cities.
In a case arising out of the First World War, the Supreme Court assumed, for the purpose of argument, that the 14th Amendment required the states to respect freedom of speech. But Joseph Gilbert, said the court, had abused his freedom of speech, and could legitimately be punished by the state of Minnesota for making the following wartime remarks:
We are going over to Europe to make the world safe for democracy, but I tell you we had better make America safe for democracy first. You say, what is the matter with our democracy? I tell you what is the matter with it: Have you had anything to say as to who should be President? Have you had anything to say as to who should be Governor of this state? Have you had anything to say as to whether we would go into this war? You know you have not. If this is such a good democracy, for Heaven’s sake why should we not vote on conscription of men? We were stampeded into this war by newspaper rot to pull England’s chestnuts out of the fire for her. I tell you if they conscripted wealth like they have conscripted men, this war would not last over forty‑eight hours…

(If you’re interested, here is a highly sympathetic biography of Mr. Gilbert.)
In both of those cases the Court had assumed, without deciding, that the states had to respect freedom of expression. The issue hadn’t affected the outcomes of those cases because the Justices didn’t think freedom of expression applied to the insidious activities of Patterson and Gilbert.
Now, suddenly, the Justices decided it was time to make an official ruling: Do the states have to obey the First Amendment? In other words, do the basic rights protected by the Fourteenth Amendment against the states include free expression (subject to common-sense regulations such as suppression of wartime dissent)?
Here’s how the Supremes answered that question in Cheek’s case:
the Constitution of the United States imposes upon the states no obligation to confer upon those within their jurisdiction either the right of free speech or the right of silence….
Cheek won, and Prudential and the First Amendment lost.
Apparently, Cheek was able to get back into the insurance business. When he died in 1926, his death certificate said that at the time of his decease he had been an insurance agent for the “Missouri State Life Co.”
The year before Cheek’s death, the Supremes were back to their old tricks, refusing to say whether states have to respect the First Amendment’s rights of free expression. This was in a case involving a Communist firebrand, Benjamin Gitlow, who had written a manifesto advocating revolution. In a key paragraph, the Court said:
For present purposes we may and do assume that freedom of speech and of the press-which are protected by the First Amendment from abridgment by Congress-are among the fundamental personal rights and ‘liberties’ protected by the due process clause of the Fourteenth Amendment from impairment by the States. We do not regard the incidental statement in Prudential Ins. Co. v. Cheek…that the Fourteenth Amendment imposes no restrictions on the States concerning freedom of speech, as determinative of this question.
Then the Supremes went on to do what they had done in the cases of Patterson and Gilbert – they declared that Gitlow had abused his First Amendment freedoms and could rightly be punished for it, even if the First Amendment applied to the states.

(Gitlow later left the Communist Party and published a memoir entitled I Confess: The Truth About American Communism.)
So it was back to the old drawing board – the applicability of the First Amendment to the states was still officially unresolved.
In two key cases in 1931 (here and here), the Supremes finally decided that the states did have to obey the free-expression guarantees of the First Amendment.
The first of these decisions said that both the federal and state governments have to respect your right to wave a communist flag. The second decision said that the government (whether state or federal) can’t shut down a newspaper as a “public nuisance.”
(Here is a book about the freedom-of-the-press case, Near v. Minnesota).
Neither in their published opinions nor in their private papers through 1931 did the Justices engage in any detailed examination of the question of “incorporation” – whether the states had to obey the First Amendment and if so, why. The Supremes just veered from one side to another, almost as if they were flying by the seat of their pants and not acting on any coherent principle. It was only later, in subsequent cases, that the Justices began working out various rationales for applying the First Amendment to the states (TL;DR version – because free expression is a Good Thing and is Good for Democracy).
A good guess would be that, when the Supremes were unenthusiastic about free expression, they weren’t that interested in imposing it on the states, but when (as in the 1931 cases) they got interested in free expression, they decided it was time to make the states as well as the feds respect that right.
Many states still have service-letter laws to this day. Check your local listings.
Works Consulted
Floyd Abrams, The Soul of the First Amendment. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2017, pp. 60-62.
“Anti-Blacklist Law Upheld,” Iron County Register (Ironton, Missouri), December 7, 1916, http://bit.ly/2rjmnTh
Ruth A. Binger and Tracy R. Ring, “BEWARE – PROCEED CAUTIOUSLY – WHAT THE MISSOURI EMPLOYER SHOULD KNOW ABOUT THE SERVICE LETTER STATUTE AND DEFAMATION.” St. Louis: Danna McKitrick, P.C., Attorneys at Law, WWW.DANNAMCKITRICK.COM, 2003.
Vickie Caison, “Bacon, Frederick H.” Friends of Silverbrook Cemetery, last updated November 22, 2010, http://www.friendsofsilverbrook.org/site4/obituaries/95-bacon-frederick-h
Russell Cawyer, “Texas Has No Enforceable Service Letter Statute,” Texas Employment Law Update, December 2, 2011, http://www.texasemploymentlawupdate.com/2011/12/articles/human-resources/texas-has-no-enforceable-service-letter-statute/
“Robert T. Cheek,” St. Louis, Missouri City Directories for 1910, 1913 and 1916, Ancestry.com. U.S. City Directories, 1822-1995 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2011.
Richard C. Cortner, The Supreme Court and the Second Bill of Rights: The Fourteenth Amendment and the Nationalization of Civil Liberties. Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin Press, 1981.
“Frederick H. Bacon,” Find a Grave, https://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSln=bacon&GSfn=frederick&GSmn=h&GSbyrel=all&GSdyrel=all&GSob=n&GRid=60501380&df=all&
Klaus H. Heberle, “From Gitlow to Near: Judicial ‘Amendment’ by Absent-Minded Incrementalism,” The Journal of Politics, Vol. 34, No. 2 (May, 1972), pp. 458-483
“Labor and Employment Laws in the State of Missouri,” Fisher and Phillips LLP, Attorneys at Law, www.laborlawyers.com.
“Master and Servant: Blacklisting Statute: Failure to Give Service Letter,” Michigan Law Review, Vol. 8, No. 8 (Jun., 1910), pp. 684-685
Ruth Mayhew, “States that Require an Employment Termination Letter,” http://work.chron.com/states-require-employment-termination-letter-24010.html
Missouri State Board of Health, Bureau of Vital Statistics, Death Certificate for Robert T. Cheek, St. Louis, Missouri, c. March 1926 [courtesy of Ancestry.com]
“Online Books by Frederick H. Bacon,” Online Books Page, University of Pennsylvania, http://bit.ly/2r9YTDm
Robert Gildersleeve Patterson, Wage-Payment Legislation in the United States. Washington: Government Printing Office, 1918, p. 75
James Z. Schwartz, “Thomas M. Patterson: Criticism of the Courts,” in Melvin I. Urofsky (ed.), 100 Americans Making Constitutional History: A Biographical History. Washington, DC: CQ Press, 2004, pp. 154-56.
Ralph K. Soebbing,”The Missouri Service Letter Statute,” Missouri Law Review, Volume 31, Issue 4 Fall 1966 Article 2 Fall 1966, pp. 505-515.
I’ve just finished The Campus Rape Frenzy, by K. C. Johnson and Stuart Taylor, Jr. The subtitle – The Attack on Due Process at America’s Universities – should dash any false hopes that this book is a STEVE SMITH adventure. It’s about how the federal government forced – or probably the right word is egged on – colleges to provide inadequate hearings for male students accused of sexual misconduct.
The usual scenario is that Bob
and Betty

two hypothetical students at Hypothetical U, both drink a lot of booze, then get together and have sex.

Later, sometimes much later, Betty decides that she was raped and, after failing to persuade the real-world judicial system of the reality of the crime (or neglecting to report the alleged crime to the real-world judicial system at all), takes the case to the campus “justice” system.
In the name of being Tough on Rapists, the federal government – invoking the anti-sex-discrimination statute, Title IX – has encouraged the campus SJWs who were already pressing for making campus “courts” accuser-friendly. The campus “judges” are students, administrators and faculty who have been trained to view accusers sympathetically and to be on the lookout for those predatory rapists responsible for 1 in 5 or 1 in 4 coeds getting sexually assaulted. These “judges” are warned that the idea of large numbers of false accusations is a myth, and “only” 2%-8% of accused men are actually innocent. These statistics are phony, as the authors show.
Never mind, though – combined with the “judges’” training is their ability to ignore many traditional due-process restraints on their power, restraints which might allow the accused man to throw a wrench or two in the accusation. The “courts” can put the defendant on trial on really short notice, they can limit his right to cross-examine the accuser, invoke the assistance of a lawyer, or present evidence in his own favor (there’s a lot of cases where the texts the “victim” sent at the time of the “rape” are not consistent with the behavior of the victim of such a crime, but the “judges” aren’t always interested in seeing these texts).
Sometimes the trial is conducted by one person hired by the college to conduct and investigation and reach a verdict, without holding a full-dress hearing in front of both parties as in traditional Anglo-American trials. The judge/investigator just interviews the witnesses, gives the accused a (perhaps incomplete) summary of what the witnesses said, and then reaches a verdict.
It almost gets to be like the old joke of the judge who didn’t want to hear the other side because hearing both sides tended to confuse him.
The bottom line is Bob is branded a rapist and suspended or expelled. It’s kind of hard for him to get another college to accept him, and many employers, seeing that the guy was branded a rapist, will be like “don’t call us, we’ll call you.”
So if Bob or his family has enough money he can sue, and maybe win or maybe lose. But any victory, while it benefits Bob, doesn’t necessarily benefit the next guy who comes along accused of rape in the Kampus Kangaroo Kourt.
And if there actually was a rape? In that case only the real-world justice system can impose the prison sentence needed to keep the rapist away from the public for term of years. Throwing an actual rapist out of college and out onto the streets seems a tad lenient, and not entirely safe.

Johnson and Taylor have all sorts of perfectly sensible ideas for reform, but I want to focus on one idea they reject.
Johnson and Taylor indicate that it might be desirable to discourage students from getting drunk and screwing. This might annoy Jimmy Buffett (NSFW), as well as the “don’t blame the victim – teach rapists not to rape” crowd. But such discouragement is a good idea as far as it goes. Rape accusations flourish, as a practical matter, in vaguely-remembered encounters which may be regretted once sober, adding to which is how easy it is (according to university regulations) for alcohol to make consent to sex irrelevant. And current dogma means that if both Bob and Betty are drunk when they have sex, Bob is raping Betty but not vice versa. How colleges reconcile this doctrine with Title IX’s ban on sex discrimination is unclear, but that’s how the system operates.
But Johnson and Taylor don’t go all the way (so to speak). They frown on drunken sex, but they scoff at the idea of discouraging student sex in general. They acknowledge that, given the kind of cases which lead to these “he said/she said” controversies, a good survival strategy might be “celibacy,” but the authors dismiss this as a “nonstarter[]” which “few will find appealing.” College students in the past – often from necessity – often managed not to rut like bunnies while pursuing their studies, but I suppose the idea is that we’re a more sophisticated, liberated, non-taboo-having, healthier people today.

What if colleges simply stopped encouraging student sex? That could make moot the question of how to handle drunken hookups by their students.
Don’t mistake my meaning – I am speaking of the separation of college and sex, not the abolition of sex itself, although of course as you know abolishing sex is the ultimate objective of the Catholic conspiracy.
Colleges can only do so much, and training the horniness out of its students is something which is beyond their capacity. But that doesn’t mean a college should provide boinking facilities for its students. No using dorms as sleepover facilities, fraternity would-be orgies, etc.
When I worked as a student dormitory assistant, checking students into and out of their rooms, I felt like the clerk at a sleazy hotel. My job wasn’t to keep the guys out of the girls’ rooms or vice versa, but to make sure they left their student IDs at my office before going upstairs for their…whatever it was they did (probably not canasta).

Did colleges put up with this sort of thing in the past? No – although students weren’t any less horny than today. College education wasn’t as near-universal as now, you needed some money or enough talent to get a scholarship, but if you had one of these qualifications there were plenty of institutions to choose from. But generally, the colleges at least made an effort to keep the students on the straight and narrow.
Mandatory chapel. Curfews. If the college admitted women (not a given), then there was separation between the sexes, and social events needed chaperones.
Most students wouldn’t put up with that today. But that’s all right, most students don’t need to be at a modern residential college.
We’re in a situation where colleges and universities ought to downsize anyway. A four-year sojourn at a residential college (often involving indebtedness and fairly sketchy post-college plans for promptly paying off that indebtedness) is not an essential part of every young person’s life, if it ever was.
There are some career paths which may require studying at a residential college, some career paths which may call for online education (dropping by the local public library for proctored exams), and some career paths which may call for a good high school education (where it can be found) and/or an apprenticeship.
And there are some people who may still go in for a liberal arts education as defined by Cardinal Newman – learning for its own sake, including the things associated with being a learned person, including theology, the “queen of the sciences.”

In each of these situations, the college can separate itself from enabling its students’ sex lives.
If a student is working on his or her online degree while holding down a job, then their college life and social life will run on separate tracks, for the most part, or if they get together with other students it will be off campus and they’ll have signed all sorts of forms that the college won’t be liable for broken hearts, broken bones, disease, death, etc., resulting from independently developing relationships with other students.
Or if students are taking one of those intensive courses of study which requires a residential program, they should be warned to do their foolishness (if any) while they’re off campus.
And at least in theory, nontraditional-age students supplementing their education, often online or through occasional visits to campus for class purposes, will have homes of their own and any kinkiness they do will be in those homes (and they should ask their spouses first, if any).
And for those few liberal-arts residential colleges which survive the coming shakeup of higher education – those colleges should be unashamedly elitist, recruiting students who are actually committed to a course of study, with socializing with the other sex limited to chaperoned activities like in earlier times.
(If a young man and woman meet at a residential college (or before going) and decide to get married, then of course after their marriage the college should put them in married-student housing.)
I guess the one downside to my scheme would be that it would force the SJW “student life” bureaucrats to get other work.
!["As long as you're looking, can you find [insert name of unpopular sports player]'s talent?" "As long as you're looking, can you find [insert name of unpopular sports player]'s talent?"](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/1/10/Santiago_Ram%C3%B3n_y_Cajal_%288691434507%29.jpg/800px-Santiago_Ram%C3%B3n_y_Cajal_%288691434507%29.jpg)
(Check out Part One and Part Two)
SCENE:
The West. Two cowboys, Bart and Biff, are sitting around a campfire…
BIFF: Well, we’ve amused ourselves quite a bit lighting our own farts, now let’s find some other way to entertain ourselves.
BART: Let’s tell the story of “Gunplay” Maxwell.
BIFF: OK, let’s see…”Gunplay” Maxwell is known as a Western outlaw, but he was actually born James Otis Bliss, the son of a respectable businessman in Massachusetts. I heard tell that when things got too hot for him in the West, Maxwell/Bliss would send his wife and daughter to live with his Bliss relatives in Massachusetts until things cooled down.
BART: But when she wasn’t in Massachusetts, his wife would be with him to help him out in his criminal pursuits.
BIFF: Now, some say that Maxwell was turned down for membership in Butch Cassidy’s gang…

BART: That ain’t the way I heard it. Way I heard it, Maxwell was in on some of Butch Cassidy’s gang’s jobs.
BIFF: When we’re looking at the career of “Gunplay” Maxwell, it looks a lot like that Japanese movie Rashomon.
BART: Never seen it.
BIFF: ‘Course you never seen it, it ain’t been made yet, but you’re supposed to pretend you’ve seen it, so you can look sophisticated.
BART: …says Mr. “Look at me lighting my own farts.”
BIFF: Anyways, the historiographical conflicts have yet to be resolved, but Maxwell was either an outlaw with Cassidy’s gang, or else he was acting just with his own gang, rustling cattle and stuff like that.
BART: And supposedly, one time the cops were out to arrest him, and he was going to turn himself in, but his wife said he was being a wimp so he got away and stayed on the run.
BIFF: And a lot of his jobs were supposedly planned with the help of a local postmaster.
BART: Ha ha, going postal.
BIFF: But the important part of the story takes place in Springville, Utah on May 28, 1898, when an alarm from the bank was linked to a store across the street. Now, the storekeeper hear the alarm go off, but at first he didn’t think anything of it, because there had been a lot of false alarms lately…
BART: But the fact that we’re sitting here talking about it now is kind of a tip-off that it wasn’t no false alarm this time…
BIFF: Yeah, it was the Maxwell gang trying to rob the bank, but the teller had the presence of mind to trigger the alarm.
BART: Yeah, so the townspeople formed a posse.
BIFF: And they killed Maxwell’s companion, but they took Maxwell alive, and he was convicted.
BART: So Maxwell got himself a lawyer and took his case to the highest court in the land.
BIFF: Judge Judy?
BART: No, dummy, the U. S. Supreme Court. Now, the Supremes had previously given a decision that said a trial by jury meant a trial by exactly 12 jurors. Yet Maxwell’s jury, in accordance with the Utah Constitution, had only eight members.

BIFF: Those Mormons, amirite?
BART: Sure, the Mormons agreed to put this idea of 8-person juries (with certain exceptions) in the Utah constitution, but it wasn’t strictly the Mormons’ idea. It was the idea of some non-Mormon lawyers who were members of the state constitutional convention, like C. C. Goodwin. In fact, Goodwin was very disparaging of the idea of trial by jury and openly fantasized about abolishing juries altogether.
BIFF: Is that the same C. C. Goodwin who ran the anti-Mormon Salt Lake Tribune? The guy who supported the federal prosecution of Mormon polygamists? Why would the delegates care about what he said? Wouldn’t they do the opposite of what Goodwin wanted?
BART: Danged if I know. When the state constitution was being written in 1895 there seems to have been kind of a truce between the Mormons and their erstwhile oppressors, and this Goodwin fella used to be a judge, so I guess they were willing to listen to his legal expertise…
BIFF: Earth to Mormons: Don’t take advice from your sworn enemies about whether to dilute your constitutional rights! But the U. S. Supremes said that a jury means 12 people, so I guess Maxwell won his case?
BART: No, actually, because even though the Supreme Court said a jury means 12 people, in Maxwell’s case the Supreme Court also said that the states don’t have to have trial by jury. So since Maxwell didn’t have the right to a trial by jury, it didn’t matter how many jurors he had, or even if he had any jurors at all.
BIFF: Well if that don’t beat all! So what did happen to Maxwell?
BART: He got together a bunch of local citizens, including the judge at his trial, who persuaded the parole board to release him. It helped that Maxwell assisted in stopping a jailbreak by other inmates.
BIFF: Do you have a link?
BART: Here.
BIFF: So, was Maxwell rehabilitated?
BART: I dunno, maybe you could say he was rehabilitated…right up until he picked a fight and got fatally shot. Some say he was planning another job at the time.
BIFF: That Rashomon thing again.
BART: But in the 1960s, the Supreme Court admitted that states have to provide jury trials, at least to those accused of serious crimes.
BIFF: So now we all have a right to a 12-person jury?
BART: No, because the Supremes also said around that time that a jury doesn’t need twelve people anymore. Maybe it can be as few as six.
BIFF: So they changed their mind about that, too? But the fewer jurors you have, the less of a cross-section of the community you’ve got.
BART: I think that’s the point.
Book Learnin’ that I Consulted
Erma Armstrong, “Aunt Ada & the Outlaws: The Story of C. L. Maxwell.” The Outlaw Trail Journal, Winter 1997.
Raoul Berger, “Trial by Jury:” Six or Twelve Jurors,” in Government by Judiciary: The Transformation of the Fourteenth Amendment. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1977, pp. 397-406.
“C.L. aka John Carter “Gunplay” Maxwell,” https://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=5459997.
Richard C. Courtner, The Supreme Court and the Second Bill of Rights: The Fourteenth Amendment and the Nationalization of Civil Liberties. Madison: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1981.
“Gunplay Maxwell – Utah Gunfighter and Outlaw.” http://www.legendsofamerica.com/we-gunplaymaxwell.html
Official Report of the Proceedings and Debates of the Convention Assembled at Salt Lake City on the Fourth Day of March, 1895, to Adopt a Constitution for the State of Utah, Volume 1. Salt Lake City: Star Printing Company, 1898.
Charles S. Peterson and Brian Q. Cannon, The Awkward State of Utah: Coming of Age in the Nation, 1896-1945. Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 2015.
Michael Rutter, “Gunplay Maxwell, the Wannabe Gunman,” in Outlaw Tales of Utah: True Stories of the Beehive State’s Most Infamous Crooks, Culprits and Cutthtroats. Guilford, Conn: Twodot Press, 2011, pp. 156-165.
Jean Bickmore White, Charter for Statehood: The Story of Utah’s State Constitution. Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1996.
I intend to take the Smoot-Hawley Tariff, which has been mocked again and again as the very epitome of boringness, and I will make the subject…anyone?…I will make the subject interesting.
To start with, I won’t call it the Hawley-Smoot Tariff, because…anyone?…because my focus is on Smoot, not Hawley. So I’ll put Smoot’s name first.
The Smoot in Smoot-Hawley was Reed Smoot, a Republican U. S. Senator from…anyone?…Utah. We first learned about Senator Smoot in Part One, in which Senator Smoot’s…anyone?…credentials were challenged because of the whole polygamy thing. After the Mormon church, of which Smoot was a leader, dropped the practice of polygamy, the U. S. Senate decided to…anyone?…decided to let Smoot keep his seat in the Senate, to which he was repeatedly re-elected, even after Senatorial elections were taken away from the state legislatures and given to the voters.
Now, class, can anyone tell me what the Smoot-Hawley Tariff was all about? You can? And here I thought you weren’t paying attention. From your spittle-flecked responses, I can see that you can identify the Smoot-Hawley Tariff as a protectionist law passed by Congress in 1930, in the depths of the Depression, and that this law has generally been blamed for making the Depression worse. In the unlikely event there’s anyone here who doesn’t already know this stuff, here’s a Wikipedia article.

Ha ha, seriously, here’s Smoot and Hawley:

The dynamic duo of Smoot and Hawley put forward their protectionist bill in 1929, and it passed in 1930. It is a key event in economic history, and Smoot, a hard worker with one of the best heads for figures in Congress, was proud of his work, even though it didn’t save him from a Democratic sweep shortly thereafter which put him out of the Senate.
But the Smoot-Hawley Tariff has also gotten a good deal of attention in the history of literature. To explain, let’s go back a bit.
Congress tightened up the obscenity laws in 1873, thanks to the lobbying efforts of this man, who was promptly made a postal inspector to help enforce the law. Can you identify him, class?
Yes, it was Anthony Comstock (1844 – 1915).
But this isn’t a history of postal censorship, so let’s move on from Comstock and look at the U. S. Customs.

This kind:

I chose the New York City customs house for my illustration because New York City was a key point of entry for foreign literature coming into the country – or trying to come in (Los Angeles and Chicago were also key ports of entry). Until 1873, Customs officials policed a federal ban on the importation of obscene pictures and photos, but not books. The Comstock Act of 1873, in addition to dealing with the Post Office, added books and pamphlets to the list of obscene material that was to be banned. Local customs inspectors – or sometimes their superiors in Washington – had to read potentially obscene books to decide whether to ban them.

The Comstock law passed despite some grumbling that “I do not know whether it can be left to employees of a custom house to determine with safety what kind of literature or what sort of matter is to be admitted.” This Congressman finally decided to support the bill once he concluded that the decision on whether a work was obscene would be left to the courts, not customs officials.
In practice, judicial review was limited and rarely used, and the final decision on what could be imported was made by Customs officials.
The Smoot-Hawley tariff, as introduced, would have kept the existing Customs ban on obscene books. It looked like a fairly noncontroversial item, continuing the law in force, until Republican Senator Bronson Cutting of New Mexico piped up. Cutting was an arty type of Republican, indignant when he learned that a friend of his hadn’t been able to import D. H. Lawrence’s novel about adultery, Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Lawrence was actually in favor of censoring pornography, he simply didn’t think he (Lawrence) was a pornographer. He was an artist, not the same thing. Cutting agreed.
Senator Cutting [insert pun about “Cutting remarks”] proposed to take away Customs’ power to ban books on obscenity grounds. Such censorship, if it was to exist, should be exercised by the post office and by state and local governments, plus the church and the family. What qualifications did Customs people have in this area?
The Senate, in Committee of the Whole, actually accepted Cutting’s amendment. This took Smoot by surprise, and it shocked him to his core.
Smoot biograper Milton Merrill says that Smoot’s objection to dirty books was not due to some kind of repressed prurience or similar factor. Dirty books were dirty and gross, and it made no difference whether the author was some kind of artist or a good writer. There was also the fact that, as a Mormon whose moral qualifications to sit in the Senate had been attacked, Smoot was extra alert to any opportunity to rebut suspicions of dirty-mindedness.
The humorless Smoot decided to demonstrate the dangers of allowing a flood of porn to enter the country and corrupt the people, especially the youth. From the Customs officials, Smoot got copies of some of the worst porn he could find to show his fellow-Senators, many of whom perhaps were pruriently interested in this legislative documentation.
Smoot was genuinely outraged. The Senator known for his calm and detailed analyses of economic legislation spoke at the top of his voice, denouncing smutty writers like Lawrence as black-hearted villains.
When the Senate, as a Committee of the Whole, reported the bill back to itself, Smoot had a chance to challenge the obscenity provision. He wanted to reinstate the ban on importing obscene books. To be fair, this ban dated back to 1873, and Smoot hadn’t anticipated that his beloved tariff measure would be the vehicle his colleagues chose to make what he deemed a pro-smut gesture. Couldn’t Congress just keep the obscene-books ban which had been in place for over half a century, and go back to the important business of protecting legitimate American industries from unfair foreign competition?
So the poet Ogden Nash was being unjust when, in a much-cited poem, he sarcastically praised Smoot as if the Senator was inventing a new book-banning law:
Senator Smoot ( Republican, Ut. )
Is planning a ban on smut.
Oh root-ti-toot for Smoot of Ut.
And his reverent occiput.
With his outbursts of indignation, Smoot helped turn the Senate back to supporting a customs ban on dirty books. But as an experienced legislator, Smoot knew that his colleagues seemed to believe that Customs was going too far and hurting the importation of genuine, non-obscene literature. To conciliate this skepticism about Customs’ literary capacities, Smoot decided to yield somewhat and allow some reform.
For one thing, Smoot would accept an amendment by which the Treasury Secretary (as boss of the Customs Service) could allow “so-called” classics, even dirty ones, into the country on a non-commercial basis. Smoot also accepted a plan endorsed by, among others, future Supreme Court Justice Hugo Black – former Klansman and currently known as the saner of Alabama’s two Senators (this guy was the other). The Black plan would provide that the final decision on whether an imported book was obscene would be made by a federal court, in a jury trial. That ought to meet the objection that random bureaucrats were making literary decisions – the book would get a full due-process trial.
The Smoot-Hawley Tariff passed with the amendments somewhat softening the Customs ban on obscene books. The first true tests case involved Ulysses.

Customs believed that James’ Joyce’s now-classic work was obscene, but after the Smoot-Hawley Tariff, the publisher, Random House, insisted on taking the case to trial. Waiving a jury, Random House had the issue decided by federal district Judge James Woolsey. Both Woolsey and the literature-friendly Second Circuit appeals court said the book was not obscene and could be freely imported (at least as far as the Customs laws were concerned). Woolsey’s opinion is probably more famous than the more authoritative Second Circuit opinion because Woolsey had a gift for words and Random House put his opinion at the beginning of Ulysses.
The Ulysses case was historic because the influential Second Circuit, followed by other courts, rejected an old English case known as Regina v. Hicklin. In that case, an opinion by Chief Justice Cockburn said that a work could be condemned as obscene based only on isolated passages, based on the assumption that susceptible people might be harmed by these passages without regard to the surrounding material.
(Hicklin wasn’t the alleged pornographer, he was a lower-court judge who had tried to legalize the alleged pornography; the pamphlet in question was issued in the name of the Protestant Electoral Union.)
The Ulysses decision said that in deciding whether a book is obscene it must be looked at as a whole. Just because there were, say, sex scenes in a book didn’t automatically make it illegal – the entire book had to be dirty, not just a few bits and pieces.
Because the Ulysses case was so historic, and was decided under the supposedly literary-friendly provisions of the Smoot-Hawley Act, some people got the impression that winning court hearings for books Customs wanted to ban represented an advance for literature, making censorship tougher. In reality, importers rarely challenged Customs decisions in court, since legal challenges are quite expensive and it would simply be easier, if possible, to cut out the offensive bits designated by Customs.
Customs liberalized its treatment of books (and movies), not because of Smoot-Hawley, but because of a gentleman named Huntington Cairns. A lawyer, litterateur, and later counsel for the National Gallery of Art, Cairns informally advised the Customs service on disputed works, generally erring in favor of letting the works into the country, at a time when the Post Office and many local censors were stricter against alleged porn.
So Smoot’s “concession” wasn’t what protected literature against Customs overreach – maybe Smoot wasn’t as dumb as they thought.
Works Consulted
Paul S. Boyer, Purity in Print: The Vice-Society Movement and Book Censorship in America. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1968.
Milton R. Merrill, Reed Smoot: Apostle in Politics. Logan, Utah: Utah State University Press, 1990.
James C. N. Paul and Murray L. Schwartz, Federal Censorship: Obscenity in the Mail. New York: The Free Press of Glencoe, 1961.
After the newly-founded religion of the Latter Day Saints, under the leadership of Brigham Young (successor to the martyred Joseph Smith), moved to Utah, it presented the federal government with some problems, as soon as the United States had acquired the area from Mexico. Young and other Mormon leaders announced a revelation from God – Mormon men were strongly encouraged (to put it mildly) to marry multiple wives. Joseph Smith had been doing this in private but starting around 1852 the revelation was out in the open.
Mormon theologians and polemicists made clear that their “principle” – polygamy – was far superior to monogamy. The great patriarchs in the Old Testament had done it with God’s approval. Polygamous unions supposedly produced healthy children. Men with many wives were not tempted, like monogamists, to frequent prostitutes or engage in fornication or adultery, thus polygamy was an answer to these social ills.
Opponents of Mormon polygamy – whom historian Stephen Prothero calls “conservatives” although the critics included prominent feminists – denounced polygamy as barbarous, oppressive to women, and a practice which had harmed civilization in other continents.
At first the federal government’s solution to the Mormon question was to make Brigham Young the governor of Utah. After all, Utah was a federal territory, most of its settlers were Mormons, and they’d obey Young.
There was another consideration. To be sure, polygamy was problematic, but should Congress be telling the people of the territories what domestic institutions they should have? Southerners and their Northern Democratic allies said no – thinking of course of slavery. But polygamy was a domestic institution, too, so if Congress started banning it, people might get ideas about banning territorial slavery, also.
Indeed, the Republican platform in 1856 said Congress should ban polygamy and slavery in the territories, calling the two institutions “twin relics of barbarism.”

Democrat James Buchanan defeated the Republican candidate, on a platform of keeping Congress from meddling in the question of territorial slavery. Buchanan did meddle with the Mormons just a little bit in Utah, to the extent of deciding that Utah wasn’t the Papal States, and the religious leader shouldn’t double as the head of the civil government. So Buchanan fired Young as civil governor and replaced him with a non-Mormon.
Mormons referred to non-Mormons as “Gentiles,” and it wasn’t meant as a compliment. Rather than submit to the Gentile governor, the Mormons launched a guerrilla war, but the rebellion was put down with the help of U. S. general Albert Sydney Johnston.

OK, so General Johnston and a bunch of other people waged a Civil War, and for our purposes the result was that most of the Southerners left Congress, leaving a Republican majority which passed laws against both slavery and polygamy, the twin relics, in the federal territories. The Morrill Act of 1862 prescribed punishments for polygamists, but was rarely enforced. President Lincoln, though he signed the law, suggested leaving the polygamists alone, telling a folksy tale about a farmer plowing around a stump which was too big for him to remove. Or maybe Lincoln told the story about the salesman and the farmers’ three daughters – who cares what joke he told, Mormon-majority juries didn’t convict people under the law even if the local officials cared enough to prosecute.
Still, the Mormon leadership wanted a test case to show the polygamy was part of their religious freedom, protected by the First Amendment’s guarantee of the free exercise of religion. So they got a guy named Reynolds to get prosecuted and to appeal his conviction to the U. S. Supreme Court.
The Supreme Court, in Reynolds’ case, decided that Congress could ban polygamy in federal territories. There was no First Amendment right to engage in such a practice – polygamy was a blot on civilization. The true meaning of the First Amendment was spelled out in President Thomas’ Jefferson’s 1802 letter to the Danbury Baptists – the First Amendment erected “a wall of separation between Church & State.” The phrase (which isn’t in the Constitution) is fairly controversial, but for the Mormons the bottom line was that polygamy was on the state’s side of the wall, not religion’s side.

Now it was time to put some teeth in the anti-polygamy laws. It was the 1880s, and Congress wasn’t down with Mormons marrying multiple ladies. So Congress tightened the screws in 1882 and again in 1887. Prosecuting polygamists – both for their multiple marriages and for “unlawfully cohabiting” with their surplus wives – was made easier through keeping polygamists off the juries. Gentile juries began convicting Mormon patriarchs, and the federal pen started looking crowded.

Plus Congress took the vote away from many polygamists, and seized the property of the Mormon church for its defiance of the polygamy law. Some polygamists went underground, trying to evade detection from the sex police. Others went to the recently-established Mormon colonies in Mexico. While I don’t think Mexican law allowed polygamy, there wasn’t the same level of legal repression as in the United States.

The Mormon leaders thought enough was enough. It was time for Utah to be its own state, so that under the Constitution, it would no longer be subject to federal morals laws. The Mormon leadership began a campaign to persuade the public that the whole polygamy thing was exaggerated, and that the Mormons were turning away from the practice. This wasn’t strictly true, but the Mormons had found some new friends, wealthy railway companies and railroad promoters, who were willing to spread the wealth around among newspapers and Congress members to create a favorable climate of opinion for the Mormons. If Utah ended up as a state, these railway interests expected that the government would be dominated by grateful Mormons, happy to pay back their benefactors.
To help with the public-relations campaign, boss Mormon Wilford Woodruff issued a declaration in 1890 suggesting that he would hereafter urge his flock to adhere to the federal antipolygamy laws and not to contract new polygamous marriages.

The new declaration basically indicated a new determination to keep the polygamy on the down low. Men who already had multiple wives (married before 1890) would not be hassled by the church for continuing to cohabit. If men wanted extra wives after 1890, they could go to one of the Mexican settlements – there was nothing in United States law against being a polygamist in Mexico (or keeping extra wives there).
The Mormons and their allies could now claim (with some truthiness) to have gone beyond polygamy. Another step was necessary. Hitherto, the political parties in Utah had been divided between the (Mormon) People’s Party and the (Gentile) Liberal Party. The Mormon leadership decided to make Utah competitive between Democrats and Republicans, dangling before the two major parties the prospect of Senators, Congressmen, and electoral votes. It was a delicate operation, since the traditional Republican support of anti-polygamy laws made Mormons Democratic by inclination – and the leadership wanted a politically-competitive state which neither party could write off or take for granted. So the leaders sent the word out that those of the faithful who hadn’t already become Democrats should become Republicans, thus setting up the needed balance.
These various underhanded tactics worked – Congress agreed in 1894 that if Utah adopted an anti-polygamy state constitution, it could become a state in 1896. The voters complied, and the state of Utah entered the Union in 1896. Polygamy was a crime on the books, but that was a state law, and the state law wasn’t enforced with the same vigor as the old federal anti-polygamy law had been. The railroad interests were disappointed that they didn’t get the keys to the state treasury – they thought they deserved at least that much at the hands of the new Mormon-dominated government in exchange for advocating statehood. But the deed was done.
Then something happened to bring the whole polygamy issue back into unwelcome public attention.
In 1903, the Utah Legislature chose the Republican Reed Smoot for U. S. Senate. Smoot was a successful, hardworking businessman, and a monogamist. He was also one of Mormonism’s 12 Apostles – part of the top leadership of the Mormon Church, and it soon transpired that not all of the church leadership shared Smoot’s personal preference for monogamy.
The Senate provisionally gave Smoot a seat, then its Committee on Privileges and Elections held hearings on Smoot’s qualifications. The issue at hand was whether the top Mormon leadership, of which Smoot was a member, encouraged polygamy.
During about three years of hearings, it transpired that the top Mormon leadership was riddled with polygamy. President Joseph F. Smith – the boss Mormon – had several wives. The practice was still widespread.

This was a problem because it was the Progressive era, and reforming society was the “in” thing once again. While the progressives were not so deluded and mad with power lust as to think they could simply pass morals legislation to supersede the laws of the states, there were rumblings about an anti-polygamy amendment to the U. S. Constitution. The Mormon leadership decided that it was time for the other shoe to drop. In 1890 they’d put their polygamous practices on the down-low, no longer advertising them. Now in the early 20th century they stopped polygamy for real.
Fortunately, previous Mormon criticisms of monogamy turned out to be exaggerated. When they became monogamists, Mormon men didn’t rush off en masse to the brothels. To this day, Mormon family life, while subject to imperfections and scandals like anything human, has compared favorably with family life in other communities.
Congress had banned the immigration of polygamists in 1891. In the Progressive era, they banned the advocates of polygamy from immigrating. This caused diplomatic tension with the Ottoman Empire, which was indignant at the idea that Muslims – even monogamist Muslims – might be kept out of the United States merely for believing that the Muslim faith says about polygamy sometimes being OK. In practice, there was no Muslim ban, and only those who actually called for the introduction of polygamy into the U. S. were hit with the ban. In 1990, Congress decided that advocates of polygamy could immigrate here, just so long as they weren’t polygamists themselves.
By this time, all of this had grown irrelevant to mainstream Mormonism, though one still hears of the splinter Mormon sects.
As far as the mainstream Mormons are concerned – that is, most adherents to the religion – a contemporary Mormon apologist summed up polygamy this way: “here are the facts: yes we did and no we don’t.”
As to Reed Smoot, we will meet him again, but for now let me mention the possibly-true story about Senator Boies Penrose, who allegedly said he preferred a polygamist who didn’t polyg to a monogamist who didn’t monag.
Works Consulted
Kathleen Flake, The Politics of American Religious Identity: The Seating of Senator Reed Smoot, Mormon Apostle. Chapel Hill, University of North Carolina Press, 2004.
C. Carmon Hardy, Solemn Covenant: The Mormon Polygamous Passage. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1992.
Edward Leo Lyman, Political Deliverance: The Mormon Quest for Utah Statehood. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1986.
Charles S. Peterson and Brian Q. Cannon, The Awkward State of Utah: Coming of Age in the Nation, 1896-1945. Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 2015.
Stephen Prothero, “The Mormon Question,” in Why Liberals Win the Culture Wars (Even When They Lose Elections). New York: HarperOne, 2016, pp. 99-137.
Thomas Cottam Romney, The Mormon Colonies in Mexico. Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 1938.
Claire A. Smearman, “Second Wives’ Club: Mapping the Impact of Polygamy in U.S. Immigration Law,” Berkeley Journal of International Law
Volume 27, Issue 2, Article 3 (2009).
(For prior installments of this “trilogy,” see Part One, Part Two and Part Three)
On October 7, 1873, the new American ambassador to Japan met emperor Mutsuhito and showed his credentials.
A high-level Japanese delegation, headed by Iwakura Tomomi, the minister responsible for foreign affairs, had in the previous month returned from a lengthy foreign journey, which had included the United States. The Iwakura Mission had sought to alert the West to Japan’s complaints about the “unequal treaties” forced on the country under the prior Japanese regime, the Shogunate.
After the United States “opened up” Japan in 1853-54, the U.S. and several European powers had negotiated treaties with the Shogun’s regime. Many Japanese patriots considered the treaties to be unfair and humiliating. In the 1860s, Japan went through a civil war. The victorious faction had overthrown the Shogunate and established the “Meiji Restoration” regime in 1868. The Meiji government, which ruled in the Emperor’s name, believed its predecessor had been too weak in the face of foreign pressure.
The new American minister plenipotentiary would adopt a conciliatory approach regarding Japan’s grievances.

John A. Bingham was a former member of the U.S. House of Representatives, but the local leaders of Bingham’s own Republican party had denied him renomination the previous year. Bingham had left Congress under something of a cloud. He’d had dubious dealings with the crooked Crédit Mobilier company, and on his way out the door he joined his Congressional colleagues in voting themselves a retroactive pay increase (known as the “Salary Grab”). But despite some grumbling, the Grant administration and the Senate had approved him as minister to Japan.
Bingham had once been an important legislator and prosecutor when America, like Japan, was enduring civil strife in the 1860s. Bingham supported laws to conscript men, suspend habeas corpus, and to take other steps allegedly needed to win the war. During a two-year interval after he had been rejected by the voters in the Democratic surge of 1862, Bingham served as a military prosecutor. His cases included the controversial court-martial of Surgeon General William A. Hammond during the war, and the also-controversial military trial of the alleged Lincoln assassination conspirators at the war’s end.
Accused of violating the Bill of Rights with his wartime actions, Bingham replied that in the dire emergency posed by the war, civil liberties would have to be set aside.
Bingham’s constituents sent him back to the House in time for him to serve in the postwar Congress as it grappled with Reconstruction. Bingham seemed to have been chastened by his defeat in 1862 – a believer in equal rights, he’d been reminded that he could only go so far ahead of his white racist constituents. He began showing comparative caution on race – at least he was cautious in comparison to Thaddeus Stevens, whose unswerving commitment to racial equality, combined with his anger at the ex-Confederates, earned him the title “Radical.”

Re-elected in 1864, Bingham became a member of the powerful committee on Reconstruction when Congress started its postwar deliberations in December 1865. Bingham wanted to keep military rule in the occupied South until the former Confederate states adopted a new constitutional amendment – the Fourteenth. Bingham would at first be content with that, without obliging the states to enfranchise the former slaves. But Bingham, and Congress, ultimately decided that the defeated Southern states would have to reorganize themselves with governments chosen by black and white voters, in addition to ratifying the new Amendment. After taking these steps, the rebellious states would be restored to the Union.
Bingham helped shape the Fourteenth Amendment, particularly its provisions about civil liberties (Sections One and Five), as expressed in language about the privileges and immunities of citizens, due process, and equal protection. Section One was “the spirit of Christianity embodied in your legislation,” Bingham assured his constituents. Concerning the evils which the amendment would prevent, Bingham said:
Hereafter the American people can not have peace, if, as in the past, states are permitted to take away the freedom of speech, and to condemn men, as felons, to the penitentiary for teaching their fellow men that there is a hereafter, and a reward for those who learn to do well.
In this and other remarks, Bingham suggested that the Fourteenth Amendment provided federal enforcement to the Bill of Rights in the states. At one point, Bingham suggested that the 1833 decision in Barron v. Baltimore had simply denied that the feds could enforce the Bill of Rights in the states – the Court had not denied that the states were bound by the Bill of Rights. The Fourteenth Amendment would arm the federal government with the needed enforcement tools.
The Supreme Court indicated that it might ruin everything by requiring civil trials for subversive elements in the ex-Confederacy. To ensure that the U. S. military could punish ex-Confederate obstructionists without a jury trial, Bingham helped strip the Supreme Court of jurisdiction in those sorts of cases. The Supreme Court acquiesced. Bingham thought it would be time enough to allow full constitutional rights after the South had accepted the terms of Congressional Reconstruction.
When President Andrew Johnson tried to obstruct the Congressional Reconstruction program, the House impeached him. Bingham was one of the “managers” (prosecutors) in the impeachment trial, which ended with the Senate acquitting Johnson with a nailbiting margin of one vote.
With the former slaves enfranchised and the Fourteenth Amendment ratified, Congress readmitted the former Confederate states into the Union and restored civil government. Bingham kept an eye on the South, supporting the Fifteenth (voting rights) Amendment and pushing for a bill to prosecute white supremacist terrorists like the Klan. After the Klan prosecutions seemed to cripple that organization, the Reconstruction process, and the transition to a peacetime regime of full constitutional liberties, seemed complete.
Meanwhile, in the year Bingham arrived in Japan, the Japanese government took various reform and modernization measures with a view of catching up with the West. In 1873, the government, in an attempt to bolster its military, adopted conscription. Bingham would be familiar with conscription, which he pushed during the Civil War, but Japanese conscription was initiated in peacetime (though a dissident faction unsuccessfully pushed for a war in Korea in that same year).
1873 also marked Japan’s adoption of the Gregorian calendar and the legalization of the previously-banned religion of Christianity. Bingham would certainly have applauded the latter measure, even though many of the newly-legalized Christians were Catholics, not members of the zealous Presbyterian “Covenanter” denomination to which Bingham belonged. Around the same time that it made Christianity legal, the Japanese government was supervising the building of new shrines for the official Shinto religion, which focused its devotional energies on the Emperor.
As ambassador, Bingham tried to free Japan from the tentacles of the “unequal treaties”…
…agreeing in 1878 that the United States would renounce any rights under these treaties if the European powers could be induced to do so, too. Bingham wished to treat the Japanese government with respect instead of throwing his weight around and stomping through Tokyo like a giant fire-breathing lizard.

In 1878, as Bingham was showing his willingness to get Japan out from the “unequal treaties,” the secretary to minister Iwakura Tomomi published a journal of the Iwakura Mission from a few years before. The secretary, Kume Kunitake, discussed the American part of the delegation’s journey in the first of his five volumes.

The delegates were not exactly giddy as schoolgirls about their 1872 trip through the U. S….

They were not simply sightseers. As Kume’s official journal showed, the delegates wanted to find out what they could about the United States so that they could turn that information to good use in their own country. The publication of the journal in 1878 indicated that the Japanese public was expected to learn these lessons, too.
Readers of Kume’s journal learned that the delegation visited many Western and Northern states, with the visits to the ex-Confederacy limited to Washington’s home in Mount Vernon, VA. Perhaps they wanted to learn from the Civil War’s winners, not its losers. Delegation members studied the schools in Oakland, CA (“a famous educational centre in the western United States”), observed some Native Americans in Nevada (“Their features display the bone structure often seen among our own base people and outcasts”), visited Salt Lake City (“According to Mormon beliefs, if a man does not have at least seven wives he cannot enter Heaven”), visited Chicago in the wake of its recent fire (“said to have been the worst fire since the city was founded”), mixed sightseeing and diplomacy in Washington, D.C., where they reflected on the turbulence of the Presidential election (“Merchants forgot their calculations; women stayed their sewing needles in mid-stitch”), visited the naval academy in Annapolis, MD (“In America, women are not forbidden from entering government buildings”), went to see New York City’s Bible Society and YMCA (“We were suspicious of the tears of those who prayed before a man condemned to death for heresy, whom they acclaim as the son of a celestial king”), checked out West Point (“Those who fail are shamed before their relatives, but, on the other hand, this may serve as a spur to them”), and “attended a concert at the World Peace Jubilee and International Music Festival” in Boston (“Now the world is at peace, with not a speck of dust stirring”).
Kume’s journal frequently paused in its descriptions to inform the readers of the lessons the Japanese should learn from what was being described. After recounting how the delegates were able to hire an American company to ship packages to Japan, Kume added these reflections: “When Japanese merchants think of the West, they imagine some distant galaxy. When western merchants view the world, however, they see it as a single city. With that attitude, they cannot fail to prosper.” Recounting the death of Horace Greeley “of a broken heart” after he lost the Presidential election in 1872, Kume wrote: “This reveals how Westerners are willing to throw their whole heart into the pursuit of their convictions, and if they do not realise them, they are even willing to sacrifice their lives. Without such extreme virtue and endurance, it is hard to expect success in this world.”

Kume’s account of the American Civil War also seemed to point to a moral for the Japanese to follow. After describing the strength of the proslavery forces before the war, Kume’s journal said: “Faced with such determination, the abolitionists looked into their hearts and fought harder.”
Kume described how, after the war, many black people had achieved success in business and politics, thus showing that skin color was unconnected to intelligence. After noting the surge in the establishment of black schools, Kume’s journal added: “It is not inconceivable that, within a decade or two, talented black people will rise and white people who do not study hard will fall by the wayside.” Kume was marking out a path to success for any people whom whites were trying to marginalize.
The North had won the American Civil War in the name of the supremacy of the federal government. But from the standpoint of centralized Japan, the U. S. still had broad respect for states’ rights: “With its own legislature, each state maintaining its autonomy and assumes the features of a genuine independent state within the federal union….the federal government derives its power from the states; the states are not created by the federal government.”
By 1878, when Japanese readers were reading about the lessons of the Iwakura Mission’s American travels, the U. S. had already dropped a notch or two since 1872 when it came to civil liberties. President Rutherford B. Hayes, to shore up support for his contested election victory, agreed to withdraw federal troops from the South at the very time that white terrorism was resuming against the former slaves. The Supreme Court narrowed the scope of the Fourteenth Amendment, denying it the broad liberty-affirming meaning which Bingham had once attributed to it (the process had started with the Slaughterhouse decision shortly before Bingham departed for Japan in 1873).
To nationalists like Kume and his bosses in the Japanese government, civil liberties as such were not a concern. To them, Japan could not afford much Western-style individualism. As Bingham left his post in 1885 – removed from office by an incoming Democratic administration – Japanese leaders were preparing a Constitution which did not exactly embody Bingham’s vision of peacetime civil liberties. That constitution came out in 1889, and it centered political authority in the Emperor, not in the people. Civil liberties were generally subject to being restricted by law. The one similarity with Bingham’s ideas was a provision that the Emperor could operate without regard to constitutional rights during war or “national emergency.”
After his diplomatic service, Bingham told Americans that he was impressed by Japan’s Meiji leadership. Like Bismarck (and like himself, Bingham might have added), the Japanese rulers had centralized and modernized a great country. Bingham did worry about one thing – the propensity of the Japanese leadership for foreign aggression.
In his old age, Bingham fell into poverty and was apparently deteriorating mentally. His friends in Congress proposed to award him a Civil War pension based on his wartime service as a military prosecutor. To sweeten the pill for the now-resurgent Southern Democrats, Bingham’s supporters magnified his clashes with Thaddeus Stevens, whose memory the Southern leaders execrated. Bingham, the scourge of Southern “traitors,” became, in the feel-good glow of retrospect, an apostle of moderation and kindness to the white South. The pension bill was adopted. Bingham died in 1900 at age 85.
What rescued Bingham from comparative obscurity was the debate over the meaning of the Fourteenth Amendment – specifically, the question of whether the Fourteenth Amendment required the states to obey the Bill of Rights – a doctrine known as “incorporation.” Supporters of incorporating the Bill of Rights portray Bingham as a James Madison figure who shaped the Fourteenth Amendment and whose vision was adopted by the people. Opponents of incorporation pay attention to Bingham for the purpose of minimizing his role or portraying him as legally ignorant.
One of Bingham’s key scholarly opponents was Raoul Berger, who referred to Bingham’s “sloppiness” in reasoning, and called him a “muddled thinker, given to the florid, windy rhetoric of a stump orator, liberally interspersed with invocations to the Deity.” Berger said Bingham was “utterly at sea as to the role of the Bill of Rights.”
Berger’s discussion of Bingham was included in his book Government by Judiciary, published in 1977. This book is a key event in the history of originalist Constitutional thought. The book took aim at key Warren Court’s decisions, in which the Court invoked the Fourteenth Amendment to justify remaking state laws regarding criminal justice, legislative apportionment, welfare rights, education, and so on. Berger presented evidence that the Fourteenth Amendment, if read according to intent of the framers of that amendment, did not achieve what the Warren court said it did.
Some of Berger’s claims proved highly contentious, even among his fellow originalists. For instance, Berger said that the Fourteenth Amendment was never meant to abolish segregated schools or to apply the Bill of Rights to the states.
Supporters of the Warren Court, the sort of folks who had loved Berger’s works on impeachment and executive privilege, took issue with Berger’s conclusions on the Fourteenth Amendment.

Conservatives, on the other hand, liked Berger’s main points, and Berger’s book became the jumping-off point for the movement of legal originalism, which conservatives liked because it exposed the bad Supreme Court decisions they opposed as illegitimate.
Ronald Reagan’s Attorney General, Edwing Meese, took up the theme of originalism in the 1980s, including criticism of the incorporation of the Bill of Rights.
![[insert joke with Jar-Jar Binks accent here] [insert joke with Jar-Jar Binks accent here]](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/9e/The_Troika_1981.jpg/429px-The_Troika_1981.jpg)
To many originalists, who liked much of what Berger had to say, attacking the incorporation of the Bill of Rights (and attacking the Brown decision) represented a step too far. It was one thing to criticize made-up rights like welfare rights and the right to abortion, but there was nothing made-up about the Bill of Rights or about its applicability to the states.
Berger’s claim, briefly, was that the relevant provisions of the Fourteenth Amendment had been intended to validate the Civil Rights Act of 1866. This law guaranteed that with respect to certain basic rights (like property ownership and access to the courts), all native-born citizens would have the same rights as white citizens. Thus, so long as the states had the same laws for black people as for white people, it didn’t matter whether they obeyed the Bill of Rights.
Berger’s opponents said, with John Bingham, that the Fourteenth Amendment was intended to force the states to obey at least the rights spelled out in the Bill of Rights, and maybe other rights of citizenship as well.
The debate continues.

(See this article criticizing originalism, and this reply. See also this critique of originalism and this response.)
Berger, who had regarded himself as a good progressive, wasn’t sure he liked the praise he was getting from the likes of Ronald Reagan, but he did not back down, defending his work in speeches and numerous articles – and even in more books.
He died in 2000 at the age of 99.
Works Consulted
Raoul Berger, Death Penalties: The Supreme Court’s Obstacle Course. Harvard University Press, 1982.
___________, The Fourteenth Amendment and the Bill of Rights. Norman, OK: University of Oklahoma Press, 1989.
___________, Government by Judiciary: The Transformation of the Fourteenth Amendment. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1977.
___________, The Intellectual Portrait Series: Profiles in Liberty – Raoul Berger [2000], Online Library of Liberty, http://oll.libertyfund.org/titles/berger-the-intellectual-portrait-series-profiles-in-liberty-raoul-berger (audio recording)
Marius B. Jansen, The Making of Modern Japan. Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2000.
Kume Kunitake (Chushichi Tsuzuki and R. Jules Young eds.), Japan Rising: The Iwakura Embassy to the USA and Europe. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009.
Walter LaFeber, The Clash: A History of U. S. – Japan Relations. New York: W. W. Norton, 1997.
Gary L. McDowell, “The True Constitutionalist. Raoul Berger, 1901-2000: His Life and His Contribution to American Law and Politics.” The Times Literary Supplement, no. 5122 (May 25, 2001): 15.
Gerald N. Magliocca, American Founding Son: John Bingham and the Invention of the Fourteenth Amendment. New York: New York University Press, 2013.
Johnathan O’Neill, Originalism in American Law and Politics: A Constitutional History. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2005.
“Raoul Berger, Whose Constitution Writings Helped To Sink Nixon,” Boston Globe, reprinted in Chicago Tribune, September 28, 2000, http://articles.chicagotribune.com/2000-09-28/news/0009280256_1_executive-privilege-writings-constitutional