By Marcus Fields

          Last Wednesday in Chevron Corp. v. Page, the Fourth Circuit ruled, in a matter of first impression, that decisions on applications for discovery filed pursuant to 28 U.S.C. § 1782 were immediately appealable and affirmed the United States District Court for the District of Maryland’s ruling in favor of Chevron. The Fourth Circuit also determined that it could not hear an appeal from a discovery order on a subpoena filed under Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 45 because it lacked subject matter jurisdiction.

The two discovery decisions at issue on appeal were sought by Chevron as part of a complex history of litigation spanning three decades and taking place in three different countries. The Fourth Circuit notes, and provides an excellent summary of, the extensive history of the conflict between Chevron and certain citizens of Ecuador over alleged pollution by one of Chevron’s acquired subsidiaries.

This history culminated in 2011 when an Ecuadorian court awarded 47 plaintiffs an $18.2 billion judgment against Chevron. Steven Donziger was the lead attorney for the plaintiffs and was assisted by Aaron and Daria Page, the appellants in the present case along with two of the Ecuadorian plaintiffs. Chevron alleges that Donziger, with the help of the Pages, fraudulently obtained the judgment in Ecuador and has pursued efforts to prevent the execution of that judgment. These efforts include appellate proceedings in Ecuador, arbitration against Ecuador at The Hague, and an action against Donziger and others in the United States District Court for the Southern District of New York. In support of these efforts Chevron has filed multiple discovery requests in the United States, including the two at issue here.

In 2011, Chevron issued subpoenas in the District of Maryland to both of the Pages pursuant to Rule 45 requesting various documents for use in Chevron’s lawsuit in the Southern District of New York. After the Pages failed to adequately respond, the District Court of Maryland granted a motion to compel the Pages to turn over certain documents but stayed that motion while the proceedings in New York were stayed for unrelated reasons. In 2013, the district court re-ordered the Pages to produce these documents.

While discovery under Rule 45 was stayed in Maryland, Chevron filed an application in the District Court of Maryland pursuant to 28 U.S.C. 1782 (empowering district courts to order discovery “for use in a proceeding in a foreign or international tribunal.”) Chevron was seeking discovery of the exact same documents from the Pages for use in Chevron’s proceedings in Ecuador and at The Hague. The District Court again ordered the Pages to turn over the documents in question. The Pages timely appealed both decisions which were consolidated into the present case.

After an extensive explanation of background material, the Fourth Circuit conducted an analysis of whether jurisdiction was appropriate for each appeal. In analyzing the appeal of the discovery decision arising out of the Rule 45 subpoena, the court noted the general rule against hearing immediate appeals of discovery decisions. The court determined that this rule applies just as readily to ancillary discovery proceedings, especially when, as in the current case, “the party from whom discovery is sought is not a party to the primary underlying action.” The Fourth Circuit typically requires those wishing to appeal a discovery order to fail to comply with that order, be held in contempt, and then challenge the validity of the order on appeal of the contempt ruling.

The appellants urged the court to find jurisdiction under the so-called Perlman exception which sometimes allows an immediate appeal to prevent the risk of a disinterested third party disclosing potentially privileged information rather than risk contempt. Those holding the alleged privilege may appeal a discovery order in this limited situation on the disinterested third party’s behalf. The Fourth Circuit held that even if it were to adopt the Perlman exception, none of the appellants would meet its requirements as the Pages are  not disinterested parties.   As a result the court dismissed the appeal for lack of jurisdiction.

The issue of “whether a decision on an application for discovery under 28 U.S.C. § 1782 is immediately appealable” is a matter of first impression for the Fourth Circuit. In deciding that such decisions were immediately appealable, the court relied on three main arguments. First, the Fourth Circuit had previously reviewed such a decision in a case in which their power to act was passed sub silentio. While not dispositive, this previous assumption of jurisdiction carries some weight with the circuit court. Second, all other circuit courts that have considered the issue have found subject matter jurisdiction, including two circuit courts dealing with decisions related to the Chevron dispute. Third, the reasons for prohibiting immediate appeals on discovery decisions disappear when there is no underlying action on the merits in the United States.

After determining that it could properly hear the appeal, the Fourth Circuit affirmed the decision below, determining that the district court did not abuse it’s discretion in applying a Second Circuit ruling stating that any privilege pertaining to the documents in question had been waived (referred to as the Donziger Waiver). The Fourth Circuit, held that deciding otherwise would violate the principle of comity and undermine the decisions of United States District Court for the Southern District of New York.

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By Diana Castro

Today, in United States v. Raymond Garfield Butler, the Fourth Circuit denied Butler’s motion for a certificate of appealability and dismissed the appeal from the District Court for the District of Maryland.  The court held that Butler had not made the requisite showing for a certificate of appealability.

Under 28 U.S.C. § 2253(c)(2), a court will not issue a certificate of appealability without “a substantial showing of the denial of a constitutional right.”  When a district court denies relief on the merits, a prisoner must show that reasonable jurists would find that the district court’s assessment of the constitutional claims is debatable or wrong in order to satisfy the 28 U.S.C. § 2253(c)(2) standard.  Slack v. McDaniel, 529 U.S. 473, 484 (2000); Miller-El v. Cockrell, 537 U.S. 322, 336-38 (2003).

In addition to showing that the motion states a debatable claim for the denial of a constitutional right, when the district court denies relief on procedural grounds, the prisoner must show that the dispositive procedural ruling is also debatable.

Butler’s appeal followed the District Court’s denial of his motion attacking sentence and his motion to alter or amend judgment under Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 59(e).  After independently reviewing the record, the Fourth Circuit concluded that Butler had not made the requisite showing, and, thus, dismissed the appeal accordingly.

 

 

By Carol Andrews*

General personal jurisdiction—whereby a state court asserts jurisdiction over a defendant on claims unrelated to the defendant’s activities in the forum state—has long been a doctrine with uncertain parameters.  It was the primary, but untested, form of personal jurisdiction under Pennoyer v. Neff.[1]  The Supreme Court in International Shoe Co. v. Washington[2] recognized general jurisdiction as one of two basic types of jurisdiction under minimum contacts analysis but did little to define it.  Lower courts struggled for decades with general jurisdiction.  In the 1980s, Professors Lea Brilmayer[3] and Mary Twitchell[4] engaged in extensive debate concerning general jurisdiction.  Other scholars weighed in.[5]  Since the 1980s, the Court has been nearly silent on all matters of personal jurisdiction.  In 2011, the Court broke the silence in two new cases: Goodyear Dunlop Tires Operations, S.A. v. Brown[6] and J. McIntyre Machinery, Ltd. v. Nicastro.[7]  Goodyear is only the Court’s third case addressing general jurisdiction.  McIntyre, a specific jurisdiction case, gives insights as to the philosophy of current members of the Court regarding personal jurisdiction as a whole.  In this Article, I use the standards of Goodyear and the policy debate of McIntyre as a springboard for a “fresh look”[8]at general jurisdiction.

In Part I, I review the history of general personal jurisdiction.  General jurisdiction was the usual form of jurisdiction under Pennoyer, but, in the early period, the distinction between unlimited and specific jurisdiction largely was irrelevant.  As the world modernized and disputes more frequently crossed state lines, the breadth of the jurisdiction became a more pressing concern.  Courts developed a variety of theories and fictions, which provided inconsistent results, particularly as to jurisdiction over corporate defendants.  In International Shoe, the Court substituted a new analysis, in the form of the minimum contacts test, and recognized that jurisdiction could be either general or specific.[9]  The new test shifted emphasis to specific jurisdiction and left the role and scope of general jurisdiction relatively uncertain.

In Part II, I explore the policies that underlie general personal jurisdiction.  The lack of a coherent policy rationale has been a persistent academic criticism of general jurisdiction.  Indeed, the Court cannot seem to reach a consensus on the policies underlying any form of personal jurisdiction.  This divide was particularly evident in the differences between Justice Kennedy’s majority opinion and Justice Ginsburg’s dissent in McIntyre.  I use this current debate to frame the Court’s policy statements as to personal jurisdiction as a whole, and I then explore the policies supporting general jurisdiction in particular.  I propose that the best guide to the policies relevant to general jurisdiction are the two factors that the Court set out in International Shoe: the relatedness of the defendant’s forum contacts to the plaintiff’s claim and the extent of those contacts.  I examine why these two factors are critical to the outcome of minimum contacts analysis.  I propose that the two factors help ensure the fairness of personal jurisdiction in four ways: (1) they help achieve reciprocity between the benefits and burdens of acting in a state; (2) they promote predictability; (3) they limit state sovereignty; and (4) they assure a minimum level of convenience.  These four fairness components in turn are useful guideposts for testing the parameters of the two factors themselves—relatedness and extent of contacts.

In Part III, I examine in detail the threshold question of whether a contact is related.  This question marks the dividing line between specific jurisdiction and general jurisdiction.  Because the Court has not addressed the question, courts and scholars have developed a variety of tests for relatedness, ranging from strict legal causation to noncausal similarity.  I evaluate a variety of tests under both the Court’s jurisdiction cases and the four fairness concerns.  I conclude that the proper test for relatedness is one based on causation that requires a “meaningful link” between the defendant’s forum contacts and the plaintiff’s claim.

In Part IV, I develop the many issues that arise in general jurisdiction analysis once the claim is deemed unrelated.  I start with the basic question of the extent of contacts necessary for general jurisdiction.  This has been the source of confusion: courts and commentators for decades labored to apply a vague “continuous and systematic” standard.  I argue that the Court appropriately clarified this standard in Goodyear and announced the test to be the place at which the defendant is “at home.”  I then apply this at-home standard and assess whether several common factual situations meet the standard for general jurisdiction.

I conclude with a capsule summary of the lessons drawn from this new look at general personal jurisdiction.  First, general jurisdiction analysis applies to all claims that have no meaningful causal link to the defendant’s forum state contacts.  Second, general jurisdiction is proper only in the single state (or, very rarely, the very few states) in which the defendant currently is at home.  Both standards strike the proper balance between the plaintiff’s choice of forum and the four fairness concerns underlying jurisdictional analysis—reciprocity of benefit and burden, predictability, sovereignty, and convenience.  Although these standards do not eliminate all uncertainty, they clarify the questions and significantly advance general jurisdiction analysis.

I.  The History and Development of General Personal Jurisdiction

In the Pennoyer era, before International Shoe, the primary bases for personal jurisdiction were general and did not require that the claim relate to the forum state.  As courts extended the Pennoyer bases to fit the modern era, many struggled with the extent of that jurisdiction, whether general or specific.  This struggle was particularly troublesome with regard to corporations.  Courts applied the fictional concepts of corporate presence and implied corporate consent with mixed results.  The Court in International Shoe eliminated some of the confusion by discarding these fictions and substituting a new minimum contacts analysis.  In doing so, the Court recognized that although many exercises of specific jurisdiction would satisfy the minimum contacts test, many exercises of general jurisdiction would not.

A.     General Jurisdiction in the Pennoyer Era

Under Pennoyer, a state court could assert jurisdiction over a defendant if, at the beginning of the suit, the defendant was found and served in the forum state, or if his property in the state was properly attached.[10]  Without physical power over the defendant or his property, the assertion of jurisdiction violated the defendant’s right to due process, and any resulting judgment was void and unenforceable.[11]  This physical power rule had two exceptions—suits determining the marital status of forum citizens and suits in which the defendant consented to jurisdiction—but in all other cases, a state court’s jurisdiction required in-state service on the defendant or attachment of the defendant’s in-state property.[12]

The two primary bases for personal jurisdiction—physical in-state presence of either the person or the property of the defendant—encompassed both specific and general jurisdiction.  If a court had power over the person or his property, it had jurisdiction regardless of whether the suit related to the person’s activities in the state or his property.  The state had power to adjudicate a claim that arose outside the forum.  Only a few forms of jurisdiction under Pennoyer were case specific.  The best example is the marital status exception, which necessarily was limited to marital status.  A state could not assert jurisdiction over an absent defendant on other civil claims solely because his wife was present in the forum state.  Likewise, most forms of consent-based jurisdiction were limited to the particular matter.  If, for example, a person agreed in a contract to forum state jurisdiction over all claims arising from that contract, the resulting jurisdiction was specific to that contract.  These distinctions between limited and general jurisdiction, however, were rarely tested.  Although broad general jurisdiction was theoretically possible in many cases, it often was unnecessary because the suits tended to be local and related to the forum.[13]

This distinction between specific jurisdiction over particular claims and unlimited jurisdiction over any claims proved more problematic as the courts attempted to expand the Pennoyer jurisdictional bases to fit the modernizing world.  As people became more mobile and corporations became a common business form, courts and lawmakers began to more frequently consider the breadth of jurisdiction.  In some applications, the distinctions were easy or obvious.  The treatment of jurisdiction in the early automobile cases is a good example.  The Court permitted state court jurisdiction over absent drivers through theories of express or implied consent, but such jurisdiction was specific and limited to suits arising from the defendant’s driving in the forum state.[14]  The state could not assert jurisdiction over an unrelated contract claim, for example, solely because the absent defendant had once driven in the forum state.

Jurisdiction over corporations was not as easy or obvious.[15]  The conceptual difficulty, which preceded Pennoyer, coincided with the law’s evolving treatment of the corporate structure.  In the early nineteenth century, courts considered corporations incapable of acting beyond the borders of the state in which they were incorporated.[16]  Because a corporation could act only in its state of incorporation, jurisdiction was limited to that state.  By the mid-nineteenth century, courts permitted a corporation to act in another state, outside of its state of incorporation, but only with the other state’s permission.  Most states conditioned this permission on the corporation’s affirmative consent to jurisdiction in the state, usually as part of the formal registration process, through appointment of an in-state agent for service of process.[17]  The Court soon expanded this doctrine to hold that even when a corporation failed to affirmatively consent to jurisdiction, the state could imply consent from the corporation’s act of doing business in the state.[18]  In Pennoyer, the Court recognized this scheme and explained that both express and implied consent provide a basis for jurisdiction over corporations.[19]

After Pennoyer, many courts, including the Supreme Court, suggested an additional or alternative theory of corporate jurisdiction based on corporate presence.  Under the presence theory, a corporation that conducted a certain level of in-state business was deemed to be present and subject to jurisdiction in the state.[20]  Courts and regulators tended to use the term “doing business” to describe the level of in-state activity that would trigger jurisdiction under either the presence or the implied consent theory.[21]  No single theory predominated.  Particular states and courts typically chose to use only one theory—implied consent or presence—but the Supreme Court treated both as proper.  The particular theory, however, tended to impact the jurisdictional consequences of the corporation’s in-state activities, especially as to whether the jurisdiction was general or specific to the in-state activities, and these consequences were far from certain.

In Old Wayne Mutual Life Ass’n v. McDonough[22] and Simon v. Southern Railway Co.,[23] the Court held that implied consent to appointment of a state officer for service of process necessarily was limited to claims arising from the corporation’s in-state activity.  Yet, only a few years later, in Pennsylvania Fire Insurance Co. v. Gold Issue Mining & Milling Co.,[24] the Court held that actual appointment of an agent for service of process could authorize general jurisdiction over claims having no relation to the forum state.[25]  The Court distinguished Old Wayne and Simon as cases of fictional consent: “[W]hen a power actually is conferred by a document, the party executing it takes the risk of the interpretation that may be put upon it by the courts.”[26]

In the corporate presence cases, the Supreme Court did not directly address whether the claim must be related to the corporate defendant’s forum activities.  A few courts held that a corporation’s presence through doing business was analogous to the physical presence of a natural person and, accordingly, permitted the state to exercise general jurisdiction over the corporation.[27]  Commentators of the era also observed that lack of relationship was in fact a critical factor (albeit unstated) in most cases in which the Supreme Court invalidated jurisdiction.[28]

These distinctions created anomalies.[29]  The same level of activities (“doing business”) conferred different levels of jurisdiction depending on whether the court used a theory of implied consent or presence, and under consent theory, a corporation who defied registration statutes could face lesser jurisdictional consequences than a corporation who complied and registered.[30]  Judge Learned Hand called for reform in an influential case cited by the Court in International Shoe.[31]  Judge Hand decried the developing doctrine under which “an outlaw who refused to obey the laws of the state would be in better position than a corporation which chooses to conform” and which confused “a legal fiction with a statement of fact.”[32]

Also bearing on the extent of jurisdiction over out-of-state corporations was a minor line of cases in which the Court used the Dormant Commerce Clause to test jurisdiction that otherwise satisfied the due process limits of Pennoyer.[33]  These cases involved corporations engaged in interstate commerce, usually railroads, where the plaintiff relied upon a form of general jurisdiction under Pennoyer, commonly consent or attachment of in-state property.  Lack of relationship was a key factor.  The only cases in which the Court invalidated state court jurisdiction under the Dormant Commerce Clause involved claims that arose outside the forum state.[34]  The theory was that a state could not unduly burden interstate commerce by asserting jurisdiction, or extracting consent to jurisdiction, over claims unrelated to the state.  The lack of relationship in these cases tended to be extreme, in that even the plaintiff had little or no relation to the forum state.

In sum, in the era immediately preceding International Shoe, the concept of general personal jurisdiction was an integral part of the law of personal jurisdiction.  Yet, its parameters, especially as applied to corporations, were not well understood.  In International Shoe, the Court adopted a new approach, which embraced the concept of general personal jurisdiction but also failed to define it.

B.     General Jurisdiction Under International Shoe Minimum Contacts Analysis

In 1945, the Court in International Shoe v. Washington spoke directly to the confusion regarding the due process limits on corporate jurisdiction.[35]  The Court discarded both the consent and presence theories as unnecessary fictions.  In their place, the Court created a new minimum contacts test for jurisdiction.  The minimum contacts test asks whether the defendant had sufficient minimum contacts with the state so that the assertion of personal jurisdiction would not offend “traditional notions of fair play and substantial justice.”[36]  The aim of the minimum contacts test, according to the Court, is to more directly ask the question that had been at the heart of both the presence and implied consent cases: whether it is fair to subject the corporation to jurisdiction.[37]

To illustrate and give meaning to the new test, the Court collected many of its prior decisions from the Pennoyer era and grouped them into four categories.[38]  According to the Court, the easiest case for finding jurisdiction (what I call the “easy yes” case) was one “when the activities of the corporation [in the forum] have not only been continuous and systematic, but also give rise to the liabilities sued upon.”[39]  At the other extreme, the easiest case against jurisdiction (the “easy no” case) was one where the corporation had “isolated” forum activities “unconnected” to the claim.[40]  The more difficult cases (the two “maybe” cases) for deciding jurisdiction, according to the Court, were those in which the two factors were mixed—extensive but unrelated contacts[41] or isolated but related contacts.[42]  Jurisdiction in either “maybe” case could fail or satisfy the demands of due process, depending on the facts of each case.

The Court now labels the two categories of cases in which the plaintiff’s claim is related to the defendant’s forum state contacts (the “easy yes” case and one “maybe” case) as cases of “specific personal jurisdiction.”[43]  The other two International Shoe categories —cases where the claim is unrelated to the defendant’s forum contacts (the “easy no” case and the other “maybe” case)—are cases of “general personal jurisdiction.”[44]  In all four categories, the Court manipulated two key factors: the extent of the defendant’s contacts with the forum state and the relatedness of those contacts to the plaintiff’s claims.  The Court did not explain why these two factors were important, but the Court’s four illustrations demonstrate their importance.

First, in terms of the number of contacts, extensive contacts by themselves might have been enough for proper jurisdiction in some cases without relatedness (a “maybe” case), but relatedness moved the substantial contacts case to the “easy yes” category.  Likewise, where the defendant had only a few contacts with the forum, the relationship of the contacts to the claim might have been enough to justify jurisdiction (a “maybe” case), but lack of relationship was absolutely fatal to jurisdiction (the “easy no” category).  In other words, relatedness was a positive factor, and lack of relatedness was a negative factor.  Likewise, an extensive amount of contacts was a positive factor, and a low amount was negative.

The Court’s classification scheme also illustrates the relative role of specific jurisdiction, on the one hand, and general jurisdiction, on the other.  Specific jurisdiction is relatively easy to establish—the cases were either in the “easy yes” category or, at worst, in the “maybe” category.  By contrast, general jurisdiction is more difficult, either an “easy no” or a “maybe” case.  Extensive contacts are essential to general jurisdiction but not necessarily enough.  Cases of specific jurisdiction over related claims are more likely to satisfy the minimum contacts test than cases of general jurisdiction.  Indeed, in Goodyear, the Court quoted Professor Twitchell’s observation that “in the wake of International Shoe, ‘specific jurisdiction has become the centerpiece of modern jurisdiction theory, while general jurisdiction plays a reduced role.’”[45]

Not surprisingly, the Court since International Shoe has focused on the more common case of specific jurisdiction, attempting to answer when the “maybe” case of an isolated but related contact satisfies due process and when it does not.  The most important development in the specific jurisdiction cases was the “purposeful availment” factor, first announced in the 1958 case Hanson v. Denckla.[46]  In 1980, the Court in World-Wide Volkswagen Corp. v. Woodson[47] further refined minimum contacts analysis for specific personal jurisdiction by breaking the test into two parts, each correlating to a separate function.[48]  The first prong primarily looks to whether the defendant’s related forum contact was sufficiently purposeful and ensures “that the States through their courts, do not reach out beyond the limits imposed on them by their status as coequal sovereigns in a federal system.”[49]  The second prong “protects the defendant against the burdens of litigating in a distant or inconvenient forum”[50] and balances that burden against other factors, including the forum state’s interest, the plaintiff’s interest in suit in the forum, interstate judicial efficiency, “and the shared interest of the several States in furthering fundamental social policies.”[51]

The Court has been relatively quiet on the question of general jurisdiction.  Until Goodyear, the Court had issued only two holdings regarding whether general jurisdiction was proper under minimum contacts analysis: Perkins v. Benguet Consolidated Mining Co.[52] and Helicopteros Nacionaloes de Columbia, S.A. v. Hall (Helicol).[53]  In Perkins, the Court upheld general jurisdiction in Ohio over a foreign corporation, engaged in mining in the Philippines, that had temporarily moved its limited business operations to Ohio during the pendency of World War II.[54]  Thirty-two years later, in Helicol, the Court rejected general jurisdiction in Texas over a Columbian helicopter charter business, despite the company’s purchase of helicopters in Texas, negotiation of the charter service with the decedent’s Texas employer, and acceptance of checks drawn on a Texas bank.[55]  The defendant in Helicol, according to the Court, did not have the level of general business contacts that the Court found in Perkins.[56]  In Goodyear, twenty-seven years later, the Court rejected general jurisdiction in North Carolina over foreign-national manufacturers that had a “small percentage” of tire sales in North Carolina.[57]  The unanimous Court held that the tire sales were like the contacts in Helicol and fell short of the level of business contacts in Perkins.[58]  North Carolina was not the “home” of the defendants.[59]

The Court has left open many questions regarding general personal jurisdiction.  The biggest void is the threshold question of whether the plaintiff’s claim is unrelated to the defendant’s forum contacts (thereby triggering general jurisdiction analysis), or related (thereby triggering specific jurisdiction analysis under the two-part World-Wide Volkswagen test).  Even assuming an unrelated claim and general jurisdiction analysis, the Court has not entirely settled the question of the necessary extent of contacts.  Although the Court seemingly set an at-home standard in Goodyear, questions remain as to the proper application of this standard.  When is the proper time for judging the extent of contacts?  Does general jurisdiction based on contacts (as opposed to general jurisdiction based on in-state tag service) apply at all to natural persons?  Can a corporation have multiple places in which it is subject to general jurisdiction?  Is the doctrine one of strict categories, or is there some “hybrid” form, or “sliding scale,” of intermediate degrees of relatedness and contacts?  An analysis of the Court’s personal jurisdiction cases, along with the policies underlying jurisdictional analysis, helps answer these questions.

II.  The Policy Rationales for General Personal Jurisdiction

The policies underlying general jurisdiction should help resolve the open questions regarding general jurisdiction.  The problem is that the policies themselves are not settled.  Even with respect to personal jurisdiction as a whole, the Court has cited a wide range of policy concerns, including sovereignty, convenience, predictability, a balance of benefits and burdens, plaintiffs’ interests, judicial efficiency, and substantive policies.  The Court rarely has addressed the particular policies underlying general jurisdiction,[60] and this silence has caused academic commentators and courts to propose various theories and applications of general jurisdiction.

I start my policy analysis by surveying the Court’s various statements of policy in personal jurisdiction cases, almost all of which are specific jurisdiction cases.  I useInternational Shoe and McIntyre as two end points to identify and categorize the policies stated by the Court in the seventy-year lifespan of minimum contacts analysis.  I then turn to general jurisdiction.  My policy analysis focuses on the two factors that the Court listed in International Shoe as critical to the fairness of jurisdiction in its four example cases—relatedness and extent of contacts.  I examine the two factors in light of the Court’s many subsequent jurisdictional policy statements to assess how these two factors impact fairness.  I argue that four “fairness components” explain why these two factors are important to the fairness of jurisdiction.  They help provide a rough reciprocity between benefits and burdens, give some predictability, ensure limits on state sovereignty, and protect against inconvenience.

A.     The Broader Policy Debate as to Personal Jurisdiction

The Court has advanced different rationales for the due process limits on personal jurisdiction.  In the Pennoyer era, the emphasis primarily was state power, or sovereignty.  This was not a perfect fit.  Some Pennoyer bases for jurisdiction, such as consent, were in tension with the power premise.  In the modern era, the Court has vacillated as to the policy reasons underlying personal jurisdiction analysis, emphasizing different policy concerns in different cases.  In International Shoe, the Court spoke foremost in terms of fairness: jurisdiction must comport with “traditional notions of fair play and substantial justice.”[61]  Yet, fairness is a broad concept that can have multiple components.  As I explain below, the Court in International Shoe mentioned several individual fairness concepts—benefits and burdens, orderly administration of laws, federalism, and inconvenience—each of which has become part of the policy debate in the Court’s later cases, includingMcIntyre.

In World-Wide Volkswagen, the Court stated that the International Shoe minimum contacts test served two functions: to protect interstate federalism, in terms of states acting as coequal sovereigns, and to protect the defendant from unreasonable burdens in litigating in a distant forum.[62]  The Court developed a two-part test to serve each function, and, in explaining each prong, the Court cited other fairness concerns.  The first prong requires a nexus between the defendant, the forum, and the claim; predictability, in the form of purposeful availment, is an essential element of that nexus.[63]  The second prong balances the burdens of the defendant against competing interests, including the forum state’s interest, the plaintiff’s interest in that forum, judicial efficiency, and substantive policies.[64]

The individual members of the Court, however, have not agreed on the Court’s articulation of each of these policies or their relative roles.  Justice Brennan, in particular, urged a different assessment of fairness.[65]  For example, he long battled the Court’s purposeful availment standard as being too protective of defendants and ignoring other interests, particularly those of the plaintiff.  Indeed, he joined in dissent from the Court’s original articulation of the purposeful availment standard in Hanson.[66]  Justice Brennan also dissented in World-Wide Volkswagen, arguing that the Court focused too tightly on the defendant and “accord[ed] too little weight to the strength of the forum State’s interest in the case and fail[ed] to explore whether there would be any inconvenience to the defendant.”[67]

The philosophical divide remains among current members of the Court, as demonstrated in McIntyre.[68]  McIntyre was a specific jurisdiction case that tested the purposeful availment standard.  The plaintiff was injured at work in his home state, New Jersey, by a recycling machine manufactured in England by the defendant.[69]  The defendant did not send the machine directly to New Jersey but instead sold it to an intermediary in Ohio.[70]  The case asked whether the manufacturer was subject to jurisdiction in New Jersey given that it targeted a national U.S. market, which necessarily included New Jersey, but did not target any state in particular.  In a six-to-three decision, the Court held that New Jersey could not properly assert jurisdiction.[71]

Justice Kennedy wrote the plurality opinion and was joined by Chief Justice Roberts, Justice Scalia, and Justice Thomas.  Justice Ginsburg, joined by Justice Sotomayor and Justice Kagan, wrote a dissenting opinion.  Justice Breyer, joined by Justice Alito, wrote a narrow opinion concurring in the judgment and did not reach many of the broader policy questions.  The ultimate decision turned solely on the purposeful availment standard, but the opinions by Justice Kennedy and Justice Ginsburg reflect a sharp divide on the fundamental policies underlying personal jurisdiction as a whole.

Justice Kennedy emphasized power and sovereignty as the principal concerns of personal jurisdiction analysis.  He began his discussion by construing the Due Process Clause as generally protecting “an individual’s right to be deprived of . . . property only by the exercise of lawful power.”[72]  As applied to personal jurisdiction, this right, according to Justice Kennedy, requires that the defendant submit to the state’s authority.[73]  A defendant could submit to a state’s authority “in a number of ways”: explicit consent (for all defendants); in-state tag service, citizenship, or domicile (for individual defendants); and incorporation or principal place of business (for corporate defendants).[74]  “Each of these examples reveals circumstances, or a course of conduct, from which it is proper to infer an intention to benefit from and thus an intention to submit to the laws of the forum State.”[75]  In assertions of specific jurisdiction in product cases, Justice Kennedy described the principal inquiry as whether the defendant’s activities manifest an intention to submit to the power of the sovereign.[76]

Justice Kennedy rejected broader fairness explanations for personal jurisdiction.  In particular, he condemned an approach that he attributed to Justice Brennan, based on “general notions of fairness and foreseeability,” as “inconsistent with the premises of lawful judicial power.”[77]  “Freeform notions of fundamental fairness divorced from traditional practice cannot transform a judgment rendered in the absence of authority into law.”[78]

Justice Ginsburg rejected sovereignty as the principal concern of personal jurisdiction analysis,[79] and she characterized Justice Kennedy’s submission theory as aPennoyer-era fiction rejected by International Shoe.[80]  According to Justice Ginsburg, the “modern approach to jurisdiction over corporations and legal entities, ushered in by International Shoe, gave prime place to reason and fairness.”[81]  Although Justice Ginsburg did not limit her assessment of reason and fairness exclusively to the burden on the defendant—her assessment included the convenience of the plaintiff and the forum state’s interest—the burden on the defendant was a dominant factor.[82]  Her focus on the defendant’s burden was reflected by her incredulity at Justice Kennedy’s remark that different personal jurisdiction analysis applies to federal courts because a different sovereign is at issue.[83]  Noting that the defendant’s burden in defending a case in a New Jersey federal court would be the same as that in a New Jersey state court, Justice Ginsburg concluded: “I see no basis in the Due Process Clause for such a curious limitation.”[84]  In other words, according to Justice Ginsburg, because the burden is roughly the same, the propriety of jurisdiction should be the same.

Neither policy view is entirely right or entirely wrong.  Fairness is the fundamental aim of personal jurisdiction analysis.  After all, due process requires due or fair process.  The question is not whether personal jurisdiction must be fair but instead how to measure this fairness.  The Court never has measured fairness by looking solely at the defendant’s burden or convenience.  To be sure, the Court in International Shoe recognized a concern for convenience: “An ‘estimate of the inconveniences’ which would result to the corporation from a trial away from its ‘home’ or principal place of business is relevant” to assess the fairness of personal jurisdiction.[85]  Yet, in the immediately preceding sentence, the Court characterized personal jurisdiction as a broader question that turned in part on federalism concerns: the demands of due process “may be met by such contacts of the corporation with the state of the forum as make it reasonable, in the context of our federal system of government, to require the corporation to defend the particular suit which is brought there.”[86]

Likewise, in World-Wide Volkswagen, the Court recognized both sovereignty and convenience as concerns.[87]  In explaining sovereignty in World-Wide Volkswagen, however, the Court spoke broadly—perhaps too broadly.  It stated that “the Due Process Clause ensures not only fairness, but also the ‘orderly administration of laws.’”[88]  In other words, the Court articulated orderly administration of laws, which it linked to sovereignty, as a concept distinct from “fairness.”  The problem with this statement is not its recognition of sovereignty as a component of personal jurisdiction analysis but instead its characterization of sovereignty as a concept divorced from fairness and therefore, perhaps, a concept divorced from due process.

The Court in International Shoe spoke of “orderly administration of laws” as an aspect of fairness and due process.  It stated that “[w]hether due process is satisfied,” in terms of personal jurisdiction, depends “upon the quality and nature of the activity in relation to the fair and orderly administration of the laws which it was the purpose of the due process clause to insure.”[89]  In Insurance Corp. of Ireland v. Compagnie des Bauxites de Guinee,[90] the Court clarified that the sovereignty component of personal jurisdiction analysis does not arise from Article III but instead arises from the Fourteenth Amendment Due Process Clause.[91]  Importantly,Bauxites did not remove notions of sovereignty from jurisdictional analysis, but rather clarified that sovereignty is itself a component of fairness.[92]  The defendant has a due process right to have states act only within the limits of their sovereignty.  Otherwise, the process would not be fair or reasonable.  Professor Brilmayer concisely captured this point: “[T]he sovereignty concept inherent in the Due Process Clause is not the reasonableness of the burden but the reasonableness of the particular State’s imposing it.”[93]

Although the debate between Justice Kennedy and Justice Ginsburg focused on the relative roles of sovereignty and convenience, both opinions addressed other policies.  One was predictability.  The Court in World-Wide Volkswagen explained that predictability was an element of the “orderly administration of laws” recognized in International Shoe:

The Due Process Clause, by ensuring the “orderly administration of laws,” . . . gives a degree of predictability to the legal system that allows potential defendants to structure their primary conduct with some minimum assurance as to where that conduct will and will not render them liable to suit.

When a corporation “purposefully avails itself of the privilege of conducting activities within the forum State,” . . . it has clear notice that it is subject to suit there, and can act to alleviate the risk of burdensome litigation by procuring insurance, passing the expected costs on to consumers, or, if the risks are too great, severing its connection with the State.[94]

Defining the necessary degree of predictability has been the primary focus of the Court’s specific jurisdiction cases, almost all of which, including McIntyre, turned on the purposeful availment factor.[95]

Neither Justice Kennedy nor Justice Ginsburg in McIntyre objected to predictability as a relevant policy.  They instead debated the type or nature of the required predictability.  Justice Kennedy condemned reliance on “general notions” of “foreseeability” and required a higher degree of predictability than did Justice Ginsburg.[96]  Justice Ginsburg characterized the requirement of purposeful availment as “simply” ensuring that jurisdiction will not be based on “‘random,’ ‘fortuitous,’ or ‘attenuated’ contacts.’”[97]

The distinction between different types of predictability is not new to jurisdictional analysis.  The Court in World-Wide Volkswagen distinguished between different types of predictability or foreseeability and refused to rely upon the mere likelihood that the defendant’s product might enter the forum state.[98]  The key predictability concern in specific jurisdiction cases, according to the Court in World-Wide Volkswagen, is that the defendant, through his actions, must “reasonably anticipate being haled [sic] into court” in the forum state.[99]

Predictability has been the source of controversy in part because the concept has so many dimensions.  The Court has defined the relevant predictability in specific jurisdiction cases as anticipation of amenability to suit, but this standard is unsatisfying.  In some ways, it is circular or, as Professor Brilmayer put it, “incomplete.”[100]  In other words, if a state or court announces that personal jurisdiction may be asserted under certain conditions, the defendant should anticipate suit under those conditions.  This does not render predictability an invalid concern.  Most applications of due process, even those outside the context of personal jurisdiction, value notice or fair warning.  The question is the type or nature of the requisite predictability.

Another policy concern in personal jurisdiction analysis is a quid pro quo or balance theory of fairness.  One justification for jurisdiction is that a defendant who has enjoyed benefits in a state must bear reciprocal burdens in that state.  In International Shoe, the Court explained that when a corporation “exercises the privilege of conducting activities within a state, it enjoys the benefits and protection of the laws of that state” and that the “exercise of that privilege may give rise to obligations.”[101]  Although this policy was not the centerpiece of the debate in McIntyre, Justice Kennedy’s submission theory arguably encompasses it in that a defendant’s submission involves both benefits and burdens.[102]  Justice Ginsburg likewise suggested some notion of reciprocal benefits and burdens when she spoke of the burden of jurisdiction being a “reasonable cost” of doing business.[103]

Finally, Justice Ginsburg emphasized, but Justice Kennedy downplayed, the importance of other fairness factors, such as the plaintiff’s interest in bringing suit in the particular forum and the forum state’s interest in adjudicating the dispute.[104]  The Court has long recognized these and other concerns, including the interests of the interstate judicial system and, sometimes, substantive policies.  In Kulko v. Superior Court,[105] the Court noted a substantive policy to tread lightly and not discourage amicability among divorcing couples.[106]  In Asahi Metal Industry Co. v. Superior Court,[107] the Court stated that both substantive policy and judicial efficiency concerns argued for restraint in disputes between foreign national parties.[108]  In World-Wide Volkswagen, the Court combined all of these concerns as factors to weigh against the defendant’s burden in assessing the overall reasonableness of specific jurisdiction.[109]  Importantly, however, the Court in World-Wide Volkswagen also established that these were secondary concerns, at least in specific jurisdiction cases, to be evaluated only if the defendant purposefully availed itself of forum state benefits.[110]

Thus, on the specific jurisdiction side, the Court has identified a wide range of policy concerns.  For the most part, however, these policy concerns are not freeform elements of specific jurisdiction analysis.  Instead, the Court has developed and prioritized the policies in identifiable tests, such as the purposeful availment standard of the first prong of the World-Wide Volkswagen test and the competing interests of the second prong.  In other words, the Court has explained how the policies translate into a test to evaluate the propriety of specific personal jurisdiction.  Individual members of the Court may disagree as to how the policies influence application of each element of a test, especially the purposeful availment standard, but the Court has set and repeatedly refined the tests for specific jurisdiction.  This is not true for general jurisdiction.

B.     The Four Fairness Concerns Underlying the Related and Extent of Contacts Factors

The lack of guidance from the Court as to general jurisdiction has spurred debate among lower courts and scholars.  Lower courts have used foreseeability and quid pro quo policy arguments to shape tests for general jurisdiction.[111]  The academic policy debate tends to be more wide ranging.  The scholarly debate is best captured by the multiple exchanges between Professors Twitchell and Brilmayer in the 1980s.  Professor Twitchell argued that there was no principled rationale for most exercises of general jurisdiction and that general jurisdiction should be confined to “its most essential function: providing one forum where a defendant may always be sued.”[112]

Professor Brilmayer offered a fuller litany of policies underlying general jurisdiction.  She developed these rationales by analyzing what she described as the “paradigm[] . . . unique affiliations” that permitted general personal jurisdiction: domicile of an individual and, for corporations, the states of incorporation and principal place of business.[113]  Professor Brilmayer identified four theoretical justifications for general jurisdiction in these locations: convenience for the defendant, convenience for the plaintiff, state power, and reciprocal benefits of and burdens on the defendant.[114]  She then applied these policies to test and justify other bases or in her words, proper affiliations, for general jurisdiction.

I agree with both Professors Twitchell and Brilmayer on different points.  I agree that general jurisdiction should be limited to a defendant’s home, but I offer a broad fairness rationale for that conclusion.[115]  My policy rationales come closer to mirroring those of Professor Brilmayer, except that I derive and justify them in a different manner.  Rather than looking at the end result—assumed examples of general jurisdiction—I look at the two factors that the Court in International Shoeidentified as being crucial to analysis of general and specific jurisdiction: relatedness and extent of contacts.

Before the Court struggled to develop and apply different policy concerns in its specific jurisdiction cases, the Court in International Shoe identified the factors of relatedness and extent of contacts as crucial to the fairness of jurisdiction.[116]  An analysis of these two factors reveals four concerns that influence the fairness of jurisdiction: reciprocity, predictability, state sovereignty, and convenience.  The relatedness and extent of contacts factors are important to fairness because each helps to (1) ensure a rough reciprocity between benefits and burdens, (2) promote predictability, (3) limit state sovereignty, and (4) guard against inconvenience.  These are not tests but instead broad explanations of what makes jurisdiction fair or unfair.

Reciprocity is shorthand for a relative balance between the forum state benefits that the defendant enjoys and the forum burdens that he must bear in the form of adjudicative jurisdiction.  In other words, because a corporation received benefits from the state, it is fair for the corporation to bear burdens in the state in the form of jurisdiction over it, but only burdens that are roughly equal to the benefits.  It is a variation on a quid pro quo theory of fairness.  Reciprocity does not require an exact balance but is instead a rough measure to help assure fairness.  A system is fair when the benefits and burdens of that system are proportionate.

Both the relatedness and extent of contacts factors help achieve reciprocity.  First, as to the relatedness factor, the Court in International Shoe explained that because relatedness helps achieve a balance of benefits and burdens, it helps ensure fairness: “[S]o far as those obligations arise out of or are connected with the activities within the state, a procedure which requires the corporation to respond to a suit brought to enforce them can, in most instances, hardly be said to be undue.”[117]  In other words, because the claim over which the forum state asserts jurisdiction (the burden) is related to the defendant’s forum activities (the benefit), the burdens and benefits are proportionate, and the procedure is not “undue” or unfair.[118]

Reciprocity also helps explain the extent of contacts factor.  In this context, a concern for reciprocity asks whether the contacts are so extensive and the benefits so great as to justify great burdens in the form of general jurisdiction.  Under general jurisdiction, a defendant is subject to jurisdiction on any and all claims, no matter where the claims arose.  The potential burden, in terms of jurisdiction over claims, is unlimited.  The Court in International Shoe did not specify this balance, but it did describe the target balance point: “[I]nstances in which the continuous corporate operations within a state [are] so substantial and of such a nature as to justify suit against it on causes of action arising from dealings entirely distinct from those activities.”[119]  Mere continuity or multiplicity of contacts is not enough.  Indeed, the Court began this sentence with the point that “continuous activity of some sorts within a state is not enough.”[120]  The benefits must be substantial enough that they offset almost unlimited burdens, in the form of general jurisdiction on any claim, arising anywhere.  If the defendant received few benefits from the forum state, it would be unfair to impose unlimited or extensive burdens.

A second fairness rationale is predictability.  Although the Court traditionally uses this rationale to support the purposeful availment standard in specific jurisdiction analysis of related claims, predictability also explains the more fundamental International Shoe factors of relatedness and extent of contacts.  Indeed, in Burger KingCorp. v. Rudzewicz,[121] the Court noted that the “‘fair warning’ requirement is satisfied if the defendant has ‘purposefully directed’ his activities at residents of the forum, . . . and the litigation results from alleged injuries that ‘arise out of or relate to’ those activities.”[122]

As to relatedness, in order for a defendant to properly structure its behavior, it not only must know that a contact has been made in a particular state (an aim protected through the purposeful availment standard), but it also must have some minimal appreciation of the effect of that contact.[123]  The relationship standard helps give this appreciation.  Without some form of relatedness standard, the defendant would not be able to predict the jurisdictional consequences of its actions.[124]  Any action of any type in a state might open up jurisdiction on a claim arising from other actions elsewhere.  A requirement of relatedness helps the defendant appreciate the claims, or types of claims, subject to specific jurisdiction.

The predictability concern underlying relatedness overlaps with, but is distinct from, the predictability concern underlying the purposeful availment factor.  Relatedness focuses more on the claim, and purposeful availment focuses more on the forum.  An assessment of predictability in either context should take the protection of the other into account.  So, for example, where the purposeful availment standard by itself cannot achieve predictability, relatedness must do so.

In contrast, in general jurisdiction cases, the extent of contacts factor arguably acts alone in providing predictability.  On this side, the question is whether the defendant’s contacts with a particular state are so substantial that it is predictable that the defendant could be sued in that state on any claim arising anywhere in the world.  When a defendant chooses to engage in substantial activities in a state, such as centering its corporate operations there, the defendant might reasonably predict that those activities would expose it to unlimited suits in that state.  Lesser contacts, even continuous ones, would not necessarily give the defendant this appreciation.  The defendant would not anticipate that a low level of contacts with a state would expose it to suit there on any claim arising elsewhere in the world.  In order for general personal jurisdiction to comport with the “orderly administration of laws,” the defendant must have such extensive contacts with the state that it reasonably could anticipate or predict unlimited jurisdiction in the state.

The third general fairness component is sovereignty.  The Court cited sovereignty as a primary concern underlying the purposeful availment factor in both World-Wide Volkswagen[125] and McIntyre.[126]  The key to sovereignty for general personal jurisdiction is that a state has sovereignty both over activities within its borders and over persons who are its “citizens” (in the broad, nontechnical sense of the word).

The relatedness factor protects against a state exceeding its sovereignty, perhaps more obviously than does the purposeful availment standard.  Relatedness helps ensure that the activity at issue in the suit—that over which the state is asserting sovereignty—has some connection to the defendant’s activity in the forum state.  A fair system would permit a state to assert sovereignty, in the form of judicial jurisdiction, over activity conducted within its borders or having an impact there.[127]  By contrast, the fact that a defendant once conducted isolated business in the forum state would not give the state sovereignty over the defendant’s unrelated actions outside the state.[128]

Similarly, sovereignty helps explain the extent of contacts factor.  A state not only has sovereignty over activities within its borders, but it also has sovereignty over its persons or citizens, no matter where they act.  Citizenship in this sense is not necessarily any literal definition used for other purposes, such as a federal court’s diversity subject matter jurisdiction.[129]  Instead, the question in this context is whether the defendant’s contacts with the forum state are so extensive that the state fairly may assert its sovereignty over the person of the defendant, rather than the actions of the defendant.

A fourth policy concern underlying the fairness of jurisdiction is inconvenience.  In the modern era, the Court used convenience as shorthand in specific jurisdiction cases for the balance of the defendant’s burdens in litigating in the forum state against other interests that might argue for jurisdiction, such as the plaintiff’s interests in the specific forum.[130]  Convenience in the context of general jurisdiction reflects somewhat different concerns.  It is a broad notion to help ensure the fairness of general jurisdiction by helping define relatedness and extent of contacts.

One reason that jurisdiction over related claims is relatively convenient is that the evidence concerning the claim is more likely to be found in the forum state.  On the other hand, when the claim is unrelated, the evidentiary convenience is less, but other conveniences emerge when the contacts are extensive.  When the defendant has extensive contacts with the state, the defendant will have little burden in traveling to and defending under that state’s legal system.

This statement of the convenience concern focuses solely on the defendant’s convenience or burdens.  This is not to say that other convenience concerns or interest factors—those under the second prong of the World-Wide Volkswagen two-part test[131]—are entirely irrelevant in setting general jurisdiction standards.  For the most part, the other concerns are either less apt in this context or otherwise addressed.  For example, on the extent of contacts factor, because the claim is unrelated to the forum, the plaintiff has no evidentiary interest in the forum.  The plaintiff might have some interests in the forum—for example, that she perceives the forum as being favorable and otherwise convenient for her—but this interest cannot itself determine jurisdiction.  Otherwise, there would be no limits on jurisdiction.  Instead, this interest properly is a secondary concern that can influence jurisdictional standards when other primary concerns are met.

In sum, these four fairness concerns help explain why the two International Shoe factors are important, and they in turn inform general jurisdiction analysis.  The fairness concerns are not themselves a jurisdictional test.  They are not talismanic standards that must be met in every case.  They instead help guide analysis of the many unanswered questions regarding general jurisdiction, including the two major issues of the degree of relatedness and extent and nature of contacts necessary for general jurisdiction analysis.

III.  Relatedness of Contacts and Claims—The Threshold Question

The biggest void in general jurisdiction analysis is the threshold question of how to determine if a claim is fit for such analysis.  In other words, related claims are subject to the specific jurisdiction two-part analysis set forth in World-Wide Volkswagen, and unrelated claims are subject to general jurisdiction analysis.  What test should decide this essential fork in personal jurisdiction analysis?

In International Shoe, the Court used several different terms to describe relationship and lack of relationship: activities that “give rise to” liabilities, as opposed to activities that are “unconnected,” “unrelated,” or “entirely distinct” from the claims.[132]  Since then, the Court has not defined the necessary degree of relationship, reserving decision on the question.  Lower courts and commentators have developed various tests for relatedness.  Most of these tests involve some element of causation, but some scholars propose a standard that does not rely on causation and instead looks to product or subject-matter similarity.  As I explore below, both the Court’s precedent and policy analysis argue for a midlevel causation test.

A.     Possible Tests for Relatedness

In 1984, the Court in Helicol officially adopted the terminology of general and specific jurisdiction,[133] but it reserved decision on the essential question of how to differentiate the two forms of jurisdiction.  In reserving the decision, the Court highlighted three potential issues: whether “arise out of” and “relate to” were synonymous standards;[134] the connection necessary to satisfy either or both standards;[135] and whether a lesser connection than “arise out of” would suffice for specific jurisdiction.[136]

Lower courts and scholars have attempted to answer these questions.[137]  At one time, the most prominent tests were those developed in a line of vacation travel cases.  Generally, in these cases, the defendant, a business in the travel industry, reached into the forum state, the plaintiff’s home state, to entice the plaintiff to travel to a distant location.  The plaintiff was hurt in the distant locale and sued the defendant in tort in the plaintiff’s home state.  The question was whether the formalization of the vacation, such as a ticket sale or reservation contract, in the plaintiff’s home state, was sufficiently related to the defendant’s allegedly tortious conduct in the vacation locale to support jurisdiction in the plaintiff’s home state.  Some courts answered yes, and others no.

The Ninth Circuit reviewed the conflict in the 1990 case Shute v. Carnival Cruise Lines, Inc.[138]  There, the plaintiffs were injured on a cruise, several hundred miles from their Washington state home, and they sued the cruise company in their home state.[139]  The plaintiffs bought their cruise ticket in Washington.  The defendant had advertised and sold cruise tickets to other Washington residents, amounting to 1.29% of its total cruise ticket sales.[140]  Because these other sales were not sufficient contacts for general jurisdiction,[141] the court explored whether the connection between the ticket sale and the cruise injury claims was sufficient for specific jurisdiction.  If it were, then jurisdiction likely would be proper, given that the defendant knowingly sent the ticket to the plaintiffs in Washington and met the purposeful availment factor.[142]  Thus, the relatedness issue was essential to whether a court in Washington properly could assert jurisdiction over the cruise line on this claim.

The Ninth Circuit observed that some other circuits, including the First, Second, and Eighth Circuits, then used a strict test, often called “proximate cause,” to reject jurisdiction in vacation travel cases.[143]  Under this strict test, the personal injury tort claim was not sufficiently related to the defendant’s forum activities because proof of the claim depended on the defendant’s wrongful actions in the vacation locale, not the advertisements or ticket sales in the forum.[144]  Perhaps a breach of contract or misrepresentation claim would be sufficiently related under this test but not the personal injury claim.  In other words, the personal injury tort plaintiff would not be able to rely on any of the defendant’s forum activities to establish her claim.

The Ninth Circuit in Shute also surveyed vacation travel cases applying a less stringent “but-for” test.[145]  The court concluded that the but-for test was the better test because the proximate cause test was not necessary to protect defendants and was too restrictive of plaintiffs’ forum choices.[146]  It held that the ticket sale in Washington was sufficiently related to the plaintiff’s personal injury claim: without the ticket the plaintiff never would have taken the cruise where she was injured.[147]  The Supreme Court granted certiorari in Carnival Cruise Lines, Inc. v. Shute,[148] and although it heard argument on the relatedness issue,[149] the Court avoided the constitutional question of relatedness by relying on a forum selection clause printed on the back of the cruise ticket.[150]

The question of the proper relatedness standard, of course, extends beyond the vacation cases.  The First Circuit, for example, has announced a test for relatedness in contract suits, under which courts “look to the elements of the cause of action and ask whether the defendant’s contacts with the forum were instrumental either in the formation of the contract or its breach.”[151]  The Federal Circuit has announced a “flexibl[e]” “disjunctive” test for patent cases—requiring that the claim either “arise out of” or “relate” to the defendant’s forum state activities.[152]  Under this test, the Federal Circuit has held that forum manufacture, sale, and use of an offending product are all related to a patent infringement claim, but are not sufficiently related to a patent declaratory unenforceability action.[153]

Academics have pondered the proper test.  Professor Brilmayer has long advocated a “substantive relevance” test.[154]  Under her test, a claim is related if “the applicable rules of law actually make the contact in question one of substantive relevance,”[155] or, put another way, “if the forum occurrence . . . would ordinarily be alleged as part of a comparable domestic complaint.”[156]  Her test is similar to the proximate cause test, and courts have categorized the two tests as one.[157]

A few commentators[158] and courts[159] have advocated liberal tests that do not include any form of causation.  These tests have various names, but, generally speaking, they would apply specific jurisdiction analysis so long as there is a minimal relationship between the contacts and the claim.[160]  Some of these tests could be described generally as requiring a topical or subject similarity.  Professor Twitchell, for example, advocated a similarity test that would apply specific personal jurisdiction analysis when the “defendant’s forum contact is similar to, but not causally related to, the conduct that forms the basis for the cause of action.”[161]

In products liability cases, a similarity test would find sufficient relatedness so long as the defendant sold, in the forum state, a product similar to that at issue in the suit.[162]  That the forum sales had no causal relationship to the plaintiff’s claim would not defeat relatedness.  By contrast, an entirely unconnected claim, such as an employment contract or discrimination suit by an employee in the defendant’s headquarters, likely would not be sufficiently related to the defendant’s product sales in the forum state under this test.

A similarity test arguably might align with that proposed by Justice Brennan in Helicol.  There, although the Court majority did not address relatedness, Justice Brennan refused to concede lack of relationship.  He rejected a formal “arise out of” test and agreed that the claims there “did not formally ‘arise out of [the defendant’s] specific activities’” in Texas.[163]  He argued that the claims at issue were otherwise related, and in doing so, he used terms such as not “wholly unrelated”[164] and “significantly related.”[165]

B.     The Invalidity of a Broad Noncausation Test for Relatedness

Both the Supreme Court’s precedent and the policies underlying general jurisdiction analysis point to a causation test.  Although the Court has not settled the question of relatedness, a close examination of the cases suggests that the Court rejects a noncausation standard.  Likewise, the four fairness policies argue for a causation test.

1.     The Court’s Precedent on Noncausation Relatedness

Most of the Court’s jurisdiction cases are specific jurisdiction cases.  These cases necessarily involve related contacts.  Yet, in these cases, the Court rarely mentions relatedness, let alone the distinctions between causation and noncausation tests for relatedness.  Most of the Court’s specific jurisdiction cases are “easy” in terms of relatedness because the claims arguably satisfy even strict causation tests.  I discuss these cases in more detail below;[166] my point here is that the Court’s specific jurisdiction cases leave open whether a lesser form of noncausation relatedness would suffice.

Some observers cite World-Wide Volkswagen as supporting a similarity test.[167]  They do not base this argument on the plaintiff’s actual claim against the dealer, likely because the plaintiff suffered injury in the forum state of Oklahoma and her claim would satisfy most causation tests for relatedness.[168]  Instead, the argument for a noncausation similarity test builds on the Court’s dictum regarding Audi, the car’s manufacturer.  The Court stated:

[I]f the sale of a product of a manufacturer . . . such as Audi . . . is not simply an isolated occurrence, but arises from the efforts of the manufacturer . . . to serve directly or indirectly, the market for its product in other States, it is not unreasonable to subject it to suit in one of those states if its allegedly defective merchandise has there been the source of injury to its owner or to others.”[169]

The dictum is ambiguous.

On the one hand, the dictum may be an explanation why the Oklahoma court in the actual case would have had jurisdiction over Audi, if it had objected to jurisdiction.[170]  If this is a correct reading, the dictum would suggest a liberal test of relationship, under which similarity in product sales would be enough.[171] In other words, Audi’s marketing and sales of similar cars in Oklahoma would be sufficiently related to plaintiffs’ claims to justify suit against Audi there, even though the plaintiffs bought the actual car elsewhere without regard to any of Audi’s marketing in Oklahoma.  On the other hand, the Court’s dictum may suggest only that Audi would be subject to jurisdiction if its marketing reached an Oklahoma consumer (as opposed to the actual New York plaintiffs) and motivated that Oklahoma consumer to buy the car, which later caused injury in Oklahoma.  This latter interpretation suggests a causal test for relationship.  The sale and the later injury would not have occurred but for Audi’s marketing in Oklahoma.

The Court’s cases outside of the specific jurisdiction context are more informative on the relatedness question.  The Court seemingly rejected a broad similarity standard in Shaffer v. Heitner,[172] a case in which the Court described relatedness as a key concern.  There, the Court held that in-state property by itself was no longer an independent basis for personal jurisdiction and that “all assertions of state-court jurisdiction must be evaluated according to the standards set forth inInternational Shoe and its progeny.”[173]  The Court noted that, under Pennoyer, property could support personal jurisdiction even if the property was “completely unrelated to the plaintiff’s cause of action.”[174]  By contrast, the Court explained in Shaffer that relatedness was “central” under International Shoe: “[T]he central concern of the inquiry into personal jurisdiction” involves “the relationship among the defendant, the forum, and the litigation.”[175]  According to the Court, the defendant’s forum state property is a relevant contact under the minimum contacts test, but the problem is that the property contact is unrelated to the claim.[176]

The Court in Shaffer did not adopt a particular test for relationship, but it did state that the property at issue in the case before it was not sufficiently related.  Shafferwas a shareholder’s derivative action, filed in Delaware state court, that alleged wrongdoing committed by the defendant officers and directors in Oregon.[177]  The property used to support jurisdiction over most of the individual defendants was their Greyhound stock.[178]  There was a form of subject-matter relationship between the defendants’ stock and the claim: both involved the Greyhound Corporation.  The defendants’ stock holdings were more related to the suit than other property that the corporate executives might have owned in Delaware, such as a vacation home.  This minimal relationship was not enough for the Court, which stated that the defendants’ Greyhound stock was “not the subject-matter of [the] litigation, nor [was] the underlying cause of action related to the property.”[179]

The Court’s general jurisdiction cases also seem to reject a standard based solely on similarity.  In Perkins, the Court summarily stated, without analysis of the question, that the “cause of action . . . did not arise in Ohio and does not relate to the corporation’s activities there.”[180]  This sentence is ambiguous.  It uses both “arise” and “relate to” to describe the lack of connection that triggered general jurisdiction analysis.  The facts of the case, however, suggest that the necessary relatedness was something more than topical or subject similarity.

In Perkins, the plaintiff sought dividends and damages due to the defendant’s failure to issue certificates for her stock.[181]  These corporate governance failures had a subject-matter similarity to the defendant corporation’s Ohio activities.[182]  At the time of the suit, Ohio was the center of corporate operations, which included meetings of the board, maintenance of bank accounts, and stock transfer decisions.[183]  Yet, the Court stated that there was an insufficient relationship between these Ohio activities and the claim.[184]  Therefore, the Court seemingly viewed relatedness as connoting something more than mere subject similarity.

In Helicol, a majority of the Court reserved decision on relatedness, but even Justice Brennan’s opinion did not necessitate a test as liberal as noncausal similarity.[185]  To be sure, he suggested a broad test when he stated that the contacts were “not wholly unrelated” to the claim,[186] but the facts of the case did not necessitate such a test in order to find relatedness.  The claim in Helicol might have satisfied a but-for test.  The defendant negotiated in Texas the very charter service that led to the deaths that were at issue in the wrongful death suits.[187]  The plaintiffs could have argued, as in the vacation travel cases, that but for the defendant’s Texas activities, the plaintiffs’ husbands would not have died in the Peru helicopter crash.  Moreover, although Justice Brennan rejected an “arise out of” test, he suggested a form of substantive relevance test by arguing that the actual claims concerned, in part, the pilot’s negligence, which might have been due to improper training in Texas.[188]

In 2011, the Court in Goodyear came close to ending any debate on product similarity as the test for relatedness.  The Court summarily stated that the claim there was unrelated: “Because the episode-in-suit, the bus accident, occurred in France, and the tire alleged to have caused the accident was manufactured and sold abroad, North Carolina courts lacked specific jurisdiction.”[189]  The case was not sufficiently related even though the claim concerned tires and the defendants sold tires in North Carolina.  This would suggest that the Court did not consider mere product similarity to be a sufficient relationship to trigger specific personal jurisdiction analysis.[190]

Yet, on this issue, the Court left the door open, by just a crack.  Elsewhere in the opinion, when discussing the question of the necessary extent of the defendants’ contacts, the Court mentioned that the defendants did not sell the same type of tire in North Carolina as that involved in the bus accident.[191]  This point, perhaps, suggests that a product similarity might be sufficient if it is a very close similarity.  This, of course, begs the question of how similar the product must be.  Professor Brilmayer recognized this “tricky question” raised by a similarity test.[192]  She pondered not only the degree of similarity of the product itself—make, model, and year, for example—but also the similarity of the alleged product defect.[193]  These implementation issues alone might argue against any form of “close similarity” test.

2.     A Policy Assessment of Noncausation Relatedness

A broader policy analysis argues against a noncausation similarity test.  In addition to the practical implementation problems, the four fairness components argue against any form of a noncausation test.  Product cases are good examples to test and illustrate this policy analysis.

First, the benefits and burdens of entering a state would not be reciprocal.  In a product case, a similarity test would expose the seller to all product suits in any state in which it sells a similar product, regardless of the extent of sales in that state.  This is not an entirely unlimited burden, in that the test would not support suits that have no connection at all, such as an employment action, but it would be a severe burden, in the form of broad jurisdiction over all product sales.  The burden would exceed most benefits from forum state sales.  Indeed, if mere product similarity were the test, specific jurisdiction could be founded on a single forum sale of a similar product to another customer, so long as that other sale was purposeful.

Second, a similarity test also fails to give claim-specific predictability.  The defendant does not have an adequate basis on which to predict its amenability to suit as result of product sales.  Even a single sale in the forum state would subject the defendant to jurisdiction there on product claims arising from sales that took place anywhere in the world.  The Court recognized this potential reach in Goodyear, when it warned that under a “sprawling view of general jurisdiction . . . any substantial manufacturer or seller of goods would be amenable to suit, on any claim for relief, wherever its products are distributed.”[194]  Although this statement was in the context of the other general jurisdiction factor—extent of contacts—its warning applies equally to the question of relatedness.

Here, the purposeful availment standard by itself would not adequately protect predictability because the defendant would not appreciate the claims to which its actions subjected it to jurisdiction.  Where the defendant deliberately targeted sales to the forum, the purposeful availment standard is met as to those targeted sales, but that finding does not resolve predictability concerns for the defendant’s other sales outside the forum state.  In these hypothetical product cases, the defendant’s only connection to the current suit is that he deliberately sold a similar product in the forum state.  That lone sale would not give him any basis on which to predict suits by persons other than that single consumer.  In other words, the defendant reasonably could anticipate suit on this sale by this consumer, but that appreciation does not mean that the defendant could anticipate all other products suits by other consumers, no matter where they bought their similar product.  There would be no claim-specific predictability.

Third, the forum state exceeds its sovereignty when it asserts jurisdiction over claims that are merely similar to activities within its borders, as opposed to causally connected to the forum conduct.  The state may have an interest in regulating the safety of similar products sold within its borders, but its sovereignty should not extend to products sold and causing injury outside its borders.  Otherwise, a state would be justified in reaching out to any activity committed anywhere, based solely on the fact that a similar act was committed within its border.[195]

Finally, convenience does not argue strongly for jurisdiction based solely on product similarity, as opposed to a causal link.[196]  The defendant’s burden of travel may not be great, given its earlier ability to sell products in the state, but presumably the case would have no evidentiary advantage.  Neither the claim-related evidence nor the defendant-related evidence would be located in the state.

In sum, a relatedness standard based on similarity, as opposed to some form of causation, is not the proper test.  It does not have support in the Court’s jurisdiction precedent, and a policy analysis argues against it.  In practice, rejection of this standard will work little change.  The First Circuit summarized the prevailing view in 1996: “Most courts share [an] emphasis on causation, but differ over the proper causative threshold.  Generally courts have gravitated toward one of two familiar tort concepts—’but for’ or ‘proximate cause.’’[197]  Few courts have applied a similarity test of a single sale in its pure form, in that they typically do not base jurisdiction solely on similarity without regard to at least an intermediate level of forum activities.  I discuss this blended form of jurisdiction below in Part IV.E.

C.         The Proper Causation Test for Relatedness

That mere similarity is not an adequate test for relatedness does not solve the issue.  It leaves the question of the proper causation test.  The lower courts use different tests with many labels, all requiring some sort of causal connection between the claim and the defendant’s forum contacts.  I contend that the proper causation test is a midlevel causation test, perhaps best described as “meaningful link.”  The terminology, however, is not as important or as instructive as the proper application of the test.

1.     Causation Relatedness in the Court’s Specific Jurisdiction Cases

A useful first step is to ask what sort of connection was enough in the Court’s specific jurisdiction cases.  These cases necessarily involve related claims, and although the Court rarely mentioned the question of relatedness, the facts of the cases may suggest a pattern or test for relatedness.  The common element in these cases is injury.  In virtually all of the Court’s specific jurisdiction cases, the plaintiff suffered all or part of her injury in the forum state.

The easiest cases in which to locate injury are the product liability cases.  In World-Wide Volkswagen, the plaintiffs were injured in a car accident while driving in Oklahoma.[198]  In Asahi, the primary plaintiff was injured in California, and the third-party indemnity plaintiff incurred damages in California in the form of defense costs and settlement funds.[199]  In McIntyre, the plaintiff was injured at work in New Jersey.[200]  Even in the Court’s other cases, those involving intangible injury and economic loss, some injury occurred in the forum state.  In two defamation cases—Keeton v. Hustler Magazine, Inc.[201] and Calder v. Jones[202]the Court recognized that the plaintiff incurred at least some reputational injury in the forum state.  In Burger King, a breach of contract and trademark case, the Court noted that the plaintiff, Burger King, suffered injury in the forum state.[203]

Several insights can be drawn from this role of the place of injury.  First, forum state injury satisfies the Court’s conception of relatedness.[204]  Although some interpretations of the strict tests suggest that injury alone may not suffice—under a theory that a wrongful act must occur in the forum state[205]—this view is incorrect.  Unlike causation in tort cases, the causation tests for jurisdictional relatedness do not necessarily look for the cause of the injury.  These tests in essence look to the cause of the claim.  The claim arises out of the injury.  The injury is an essential element of the claim.[206]

Second, a corollary of the first, the underlying wrongful conduct need not occur inside the forum.  In all of the listed cases, all or part of the defendant’s allegedly wrongful actions occurred in states other than the forum state.  In World-Wide Volkswagen, for example, the dealer’s alleged wrongful act—the sale of the car—occurred in New York, not Oklahoma.  This means that relatedness does not require that all elements of the claim occur in the forum state.  Indeed, most articulations of even the stricter tests, such as the substantive relevance test, require that only one of the operative elements occur in the forum state.[207]

Third, although the Court’s specific jurisdiction cases were brought in the state of injury, place of injury is not the sole standard for relatedness.  The place of the defendant’s wrongful conduct also is a related contact.  The wrongful act is a proximate cause of the claim or is at least substantively relevant to the claim.  InGoodyear, the Court phrased the place of wrong as an alternative when it stated that the case was one of general jurisdiction because neither the injury nor the manufacture-sale of the tire occurred in North Carolina.[208]

Finally, the Court’s specific jurisdiction cases demonstrate the difference between the predictability underlying the relatedness standard and that underlying the purposeful availment standard.  The place of injury, when divorced from the underlying wrongful conduct, as it is in most product cases, is unpredictable.  Yet, injury was enough to trigger specific jurisdiction analysis in the Court’s product cases.  The explanation is that the relatedness standard promotes claim-specific predictability while the purposeful availment standard protects forum predictability.  In other words, in a product case, the relatedness standard gives predictability as to the types of claims subject to specific jurisdiction, and the purposeful availment ensures that the defendant appreciate the location.

In a product case, where a plaintiff chooses to file suit in the state in which the defendant manufactured the product, the defendant gains both claim-specific and forum-specific knowledge when it commits the act of manufacture.  In cases where injury occurs in a state different from manufacture, the relatedness requirement ensures the claim-specific knowledge—claims arising from that injury, as opposed to claims not related to that injury—and the purposeful availment standard ensures that the defendant knowingly sought out that particular forum.  Together, they ensure that the defendant has sufficient appreciation and notice of the jurisdictional consequences of his actions.

By contrast, a broad similarity test for relatedness would not give sufficient claim-specific predictability, and the purposeful availment standard would not fill the void.  Purposeful availment analysis would ask if this forum contact was purposeful, and the answer often would be yes.  The defendant purposefully sold similar products in the forum state.  The purposeful availment standard ensures that the defendant knows that he made contact with a particular state, but in this context, it does not tell him the jurisdictional consequences of his contact.  The purposeful availment standard, acting alone, would not give sufficient predictability.  Relatedness, by contrast, can fill the void and give claim-specific predictability.

2.     The But-For, Proximate Cause, and Meaningful Link Causation Tests

Because the Court’s specific jurisdiction cases all have fact patterns in which a key element of the claim—the injury—occurred in the forum state, they leave open whether that element is necessary or whether a lesser form of connection also would pass constitutional muster.  The lower courts have used a wide variety of terms to describe the possible causation tests.  The terminology often confuses the issue.  Yet, some common elements can be found.

First, the but-for test, if unrestrained, is too broad.  This test asks whether, “but for” the defendant’s forum state contacts, the underlying events of the plaintiff’s claim would have occurred.  A hypothetical based on International Shoe demonstrates its potential reach.  A Washington state consumer wants to bring a products suit against the International Shoe company in Colorado based on the fact that the company sent shoe crates on a train, which started in St. Louis and traveled through Colorado on its way to Seattle.  In a broad sense there is some historical connection: but for the train ride through Colorado, the plaintiff never would have received her shoes and been injured by them.[209]

Such an unrestrained but-for test would fail a policy analysis, for many of the same reasons that a similarity test fails.  Carried to its extremes, such a test would not achieve reciprocity.  Using the train hypothetical, the company enjoyed benefits from Colorado by sending its product through the state.  The jurisdictional burden of defending in Colorado, however, would not be reciprocal to that benefit.  The jurisdictional burden would extend to all products the company ever sent on a train through Colorado, no matter where the products were sold or caused injury.[210]

By the same token, the company could not predict the types of claims as to which it would be amenable to suit in Colorado.  The company would have claim-specific predictability as to suits directly arising from an event in Colorado—a negligence suit alleging that the shoe company improperly loaded a box car that caused injury in Colorado.  But that would not extend to any and all claims concerning any product that the company ever sent by train through Colorado.

Colorado would have sovereignty over the activities within its borders if, for example, the product caused injury while on the train in Colorado, but Colorado has no sovereignty on the products once they leave its borders without causing any harm in Colorado.  Finally, convenience would not be served because there would be no evidentiary connection between Colorado and the claim of defective manufacture in Missouri and injury in Washington.

Few, if any, observers would endorse an unrestrained but-for test.  The First Circuit rejected a pure but-for test, explaining that it had “no limiting principle” and encompassed “every event that hindsight can logically identify in the causative chain.”[211]  Even the Ninth Circuit, which adopted the but-for test in Shute,[212]recognized that the test could be too broad.  It elected to remedy any case of a “too attenuated” connection through the reasonableness prong of the World-Wide Volkswagen test, as opposed to a “restrictive” reading of the relatedness standard.[213]

On the other end of the causation spectrum is the proximate cause test.  It can be pushed too far in the other direction.  In strict applications, the test would find insufficient relatedness simply because the defendant’s forum contacts are contractual and the plaintiff’s claim is based in tort.  Even the First Circuit, once “the main proponent of the proximate cause standard,” concluded that “strict adherence to a proximate cause standard in all circumstances is unnecessarily restrictive.”[214]

Whatever the terminology, many (but not all) courts seem to be moving toward the center.  This is best seen in the vacation travel cases.  As noted in Shute, at one time, the circuit courts were markedly split in their holdings in these cases.[215]  Today, the test terminology still differs, and the holdings sometimes differ, but the differences usually are more attributable to factual variations than to the nature of the relatedness test.

The vacation travel cases are good illustrations because they have an intermediate connection between the claim and the defendant’s forum state contacts.  The defendant formalized the transaction, through a ticket sale or booked reservation, in the plaintiff’s home state.  The defendant did not merely advertise its cruise ship or resort in the forum state; it acted specifically with regard to this plaintiff in his home state and formalized a business relationship in that state, the forum state.

The Third Circuit in O’Connor v. Sandy Lane Hotel Co. found relatedness in a vacation case, under what it described as a “meaningful link” standard.[216]  There, a resort in Barbados engaged the plaintiff in his home state of Pennsylvania and there formed a contract for spa services in Barbados.[217] The court permitted jurisdiction over the resort in Pennsylvania on the plaintiff’s claim that the resort had negligently injured him in performing the spa treatments.[218]  The court emphasized the policies of predictability and reciprocity:

With each purposeful contact by an out-of-state resident, the forum state’s laws will extend certain benefits and impose certain obligations. . . .  Specific jurisdiction is the cost of enjoying the benefits. . . .  The relatedness requirement’s function is to maintain balance in this reciprocal exchange.  In order to do so, it must keep the jurisdictional exposure that results from a contact closely tailored to that contact’s accompanying substantive obligations.  The causal connection can be somewhat lower than the tort concept of proximate causation . . . but it must nonetheless be intimate enough to keep the quid pro quo proportional and personal jurisdiction reasonably foreseeable.[219]

The Third Circuit disclaimed use of a proximate cause standard: “Our relatedness analysis . . . requires neither proximate causation nor substantive relevance. . . .  It is enough that a meaningful link exists between a legal obligation that arose in the forum and the substance of the plaintiffs’ claims.”[220]  On the other hand, it used but-for causation as only an initial screen.[221]  The spa reservation was not only a but-for cause of the later spa injury, but, the court emphasized, it also created duties of reasonable care and was therefore a “meaningful link” between the defendant’s forum contact and the claim.[222]

Other courts have used this “meaningful link” phrasing.  A key case is Nowak v. Tak How Investments, Ltd.,[223] in which the First Circuit, a former proponent of the “proximate cause” test,[224] relaxed its standard somewhat in a vacation case.  There, the defendant operated a hotel in Hong Kong, and the plaintiff’s wife drowned in the hotel pool.[225]  The plaintiff, a Massachusetts resident, sued the hotel in Massachusetts.  The defendant hotel had solicited the long-term business of the plaintiff’s Massachusetts employer.[226]  The defendant negotiated a contract in Massachusetts, under which the employer agreed to make the defendant hotel the exclusive hotel for its employees when traveling to Hong Kong.  The First Circuit concluded that these Massachusetts contacts were sufficiently related to the plaintiff’s wrongful death claim: “While the nexus between [the defendant’s] solicitation of [the employer’s] business and Mrs. Nowak’s death does not constitute a proximate cause relationship, it does represent a meaningful link.”[227]

This is the correct result.  An intermediate, “meaningful link” test is consistent with the four fairness components when applied to vacation travel cases.  First, reciprocity is met.[228]  When an out-of-state travel destination, such as a hotel, makes formal arrangements with a forum state resident in the forum state, the hotel enjoys benefits from the forum state.  The hotel both solicited and secured business in the forum state.  That the injury and literal cause of the injury occurred elsewhere does not remove the hotel’s forum state benefit.  Jurisdiction in the forum on the injury claim would be proportional to the benefits received from the forum.

Likewise, jurisdiction is sufficiently predictable.  When a hotel knowingly engages a forum state resident in the forum state, the hotel can reasonably anticipate that it might be subject to suit on any claim arising out of that business relationship.  The plaintiff’s subsequent injury at the hotel is a foreseeable incident of that business relationship.  That the relationship in the forum state is contractual in nature, rather than tort, does not affect the foreseeability of the injury that might arise out of the business relationship.[229]

Application of the sovereignty concern is more difficult.  The forum state arguably has some sovereignty over the claim because the business relationship began in the forum.  Yet, the sovereignty argument underlying relatedness focuses primarily on the state having sovereignty over activities that occur in its borders, and the underlying wrongful acts in the typical vacation case occurred outside the forum state.  But the same argument could be made in any case in which only injury occurs in the forum state.  If a state’s sovereignty were limited to the actual wrongful actions, injury would not be enough.  To be sure, injury is a more significant element than the formalization of the initial business relationship, but the state arguably has sovereignty going forward from the initial formalization, just as it does going backwards from the injury.

Convenience is mixed, at least when viewed solely from the perspective of the defendant.  The initial contact and ticket sale or reservation would not be critical items of evidence.  Indeed, for the defendant, little, if any, evidence would be located in the forum state.  Some evidence regarding the plaintiff himself, presumably some of his postinjury evidence, would be in the forum state if it were the plaintiff’s home state.  The plaintiff personally would find it more convenient to litigate there.  Nevertheless, on balance, the four fairness concerns are adequately served, and an intermediate causation test would be fair to the defendant.

Not all courts have moved to the middle ground in the vacation cases, and some still deny specific jurisdiction.[230]  Oldfield v. Pueblo De Bahia a Lora, S.A.[231] is a recent example.  There, the plaintiff, from his home in Florida, booked a room reservation and charter fishing trip with a resort in Costa Rica.[232]  The plaintiff was injured on the fishing trip in Costa Rica and sued the resort in Florida, alleging vicarious liability for the charter boat captain’s negligence.[233]  The Eleventh Circuit held that the reservation contact was too “tenuous” to provide foreseeability and therefore was not sufficiently related to the plaintiff’s negligence claims.[234]  This is too narrow a reading of foreseeability and relatedness.

The Eleventh Circuit relied at least in part on the fact that the fishing captain was not an employee of the resort.[235]  That reliance is misplaced.  Whether the resort was legally responsible for the boat captain’s actions was a question of liability, not jurisdiction.  The relevant point for jurisdictional analysis was the plaintiff’s allegation that the resort was legally responsible, in part due to the resort’s exchanges with the plaintiff in Florida regarding the chartering of the boat.  The jurisdictional question is whether that exchange, which occurred in the forum state of Florida, was sufficiently related to the plaintiff’s claim for the resort to be legally responsible for the captain’s negligence.  The answer should be yes.  Indeed, the contact likely would be substantively relevant in that the plaintiff almost certainly would rely upon the resort’s booking of the charter trip to support his claim that the resort is responsible for the fishing captain’s negligence.  The charter reservation may not be a technical element of the claim, but it is a but-for cause that has a relevant and meaningful connection to the plaintiff’s claim.

The problem with a too-strict test is not fairness to the defendant.  It would not be unfair to the defendant to insulate it from jurisdiction under a strict test.  The problem instead is that a strict relatedness standard unnecessarily limits the plaintiff’s forum choice.  In cases where a relatedness test, such as a similarity test, would not comport with the four fairness rationales, the fact that the plaintiff would find the forum desirable or convenient does not argue for a finding of relatedness.  However, where an intermediate relatedness standard adequately serves the four fairness concerns, a stricter test is not necessary.  The concern for the plaintiff and available forums now would come into play and argue for the intermediate test, as opposed to a stricter test.  In this sense, these other interests—those of the plaintiff—play a role similar to that in the second prong of the World-Wide Volkswagen test.[236]

Thus, an intermediate, meaningful link test is the better test.  The question of how to apply a meaningful link test necessarily will require case-by-case development, similar to that of the purposeful availment standard.  The foregoing analysis, however, offers some parameters.  First, if the forum state contact constitutes a substantive element of the claim—injury or wrongful act—relatedness always will be met.  Second, but-for causation is essential but not sufficient.  For all cases in between, the four fairness factors will guide application of the standard to test whether the claim is sufficiently related to the contact to make specific jurisdiction fair.  There will be hard cases.

I offer here a difficult case for consideration.  In this “hard case” hypothetical, the defendant advertises in the forum state, but the plaintiff, a forum state resident, both bought the product and was injured in another state.  This advertising case hypothetical assumes that the advertising is not itself a substantive element of the claim.  In other words, the plaintiff is not claiming that the advertisement fraudulently induced him.  If he were making such a charge, then the case would be related.  On the other hand, this hypothetical assumes some but-for causation.  If the advertising had no causal connection to the plaintiff’s purchase, there would be no relatedness.  The plaintiff would have been injured even without the defendant’s forum state advertising contacts.  The forum state advertisement passes the initial screen of but-for causation but is not a substantive element of the claim.  Is this a significant enough connection?  Is it a meaningful link?  The four fairness policies give some guidance in this analysis.

The policy analysis is aided by focusing on the difference between this advertising example and a vacation travel case such as O’Connor.[237]  In this hypothetical, the defendant did not have any plaintiff-specific knowledge or formalize a business relationship with the plaintiff in the forum state.  It merely advertised to an unknown forum state audience that happened to include the plaintiff.  The difference—between general advertising and a plaintiff-specific relationship—is likely enough to tip the scale toward a finding of unfairness.

Analysis of three of the four fairness factors—reciprocity, sovereignty, and convenience—in the advertising hypothetical is similar to those in the vacation travel case.  Reciprocity likely is met.  The defendant’s advertisements in the forum state resulted in a benefit—the plaintiff’s purchase of the defendant’s product.  Jurisdiction in the forum would be a burden proportionate to that benefit.  Sovereignty is weak, as it was in the vacation case, because none of the activities at issue—the product defect and injury—occurred in the forum state.  But, just as with the vacation travel case, the advertising is the start of the relationship that led to the injury, albeit one step removed.  Convenience again is weak in that the conduct and injury evidence are largely located in another state.

The key difference in the advertising hypothetical is predictability.  In the vacation travel case, the defendant had a knowing relationship with the plaintiff in the forum state and could assume that all such relationships might lead to suit in the state.  In the advertisement example, because there is no known relationship in the forum state, the defendant would have to assume jurisdiction in the forum state on any claim brought by any person who ever was influenced by advertising in the forum state.

This is a close case.  I conclude that, on balance, the policy concerns argue against a finding of relatedness based on mere advertising.  The primary weakness is predictability, a key concern of the Court in specific jurisdiction cases.  Purposeful availment here would not protect predictability in that courts would find the advertisement—the related contact—to be purposeful.  The defendant knowingly and deliberately targeted its advertisements to the forum state.

This hypothetical is difficult in part because, in most applications, it presents a question of blended or intermediate jurisdiction.  It not only raises the foregoing question of relatedness, but it also implicates the extent of contacts factor.  A defendant rarely posts a single advertisement.  Because advertising is a close case on relatedness, and because it usually involves multiple contacts, this hypothetical raises the question of the fairness of jurisdiction in cases where there are intermediate amounts of both relatedness and extent of contacts.  I address this form of blended or hybrid jurisdiction below, in Part IV.E.  Here, the question is narrowly focused solely on relatedness.  Does a single forum state advertisement, by itself, have a sufficient connection to a product claim that arises from manufacture, sale, use, and injury in another state?  I conclude no.[238]

There are seemingly infinite variations and applications of the meaningful link test.  Many standards, including constitutional standards such as the purposeful availment element, turn on subtle factual distinctions.  Indeed, the Court in International Shoe warned that “the criteria by which we mark the boundary line between those activities which justify the subjection of a corporation to suit, and those which do not, cannot be simply mechanical or quantitative.”[239]

In sum, a causation standard best differentiates between specific and general jurisdiction.  The proper test would impose a but-for test as an initial screen and also require some form of meaningful link between the plaintiff’s claim and the defendant’s contacts with the forum state.  The four fairness concerns should guide courts in determining whether that but-for cause is sufficiently meaningful.  This meaningful link test is consistent with the Court’s precedent.  It avoids the problems of an unrestrained but-for test and adequately serves the four fairness components.  Yet, it also avoids the sometimes too restrictive applications of the proximate cause test and thereby gives plaintiffs a greater choice of forums.

IV.  General Jurisdiction Over Unrelated Claims—Extent of Contacts and Other Questions

Having decided that a claim is unrelated and thus mandates general jurisdiction analysis, several other questions remain.  The basic question is the extent and nature of the forum state contacts necessary to justify exercise of general jurisdiction.  For years, courts and commentators struggled to apply a test asking whether the defendant’s forum state contacts were “continuous and systematic,”[240] the phrase used in International Shoe to describe the “maybe” case of general jurisdiction.  The Court in Goodyear brought some resolution by clarifying that the defendant’s contacts not only must be “continuous and systematic,” but they also must be such that the defendant is at home in the forum state.[241]  The Court gave some guidance in applying the test when it rejected general jurisdiction based on a low amount of sales in the forum state.  Nonetheless, uncertainty remains as to the proper application of the at-home standard, including the timing of the contacts, general jurisdiction over natural persons, and general jurisdiction over corporations in states where they have varying degrees of business contacts.  I analyze these and other questions under the Court’s precedent and the four fairness concerns.  I conclude that general jurisdiction is very narrow—limited to the few places, most often only a single place, where the defendant currently is at home.

A.     “At Home”—The Proper Test for Extent of Contacts

Prior to Goodyear, the Court issued only two holdings addressing the extent of contacts necessary to justify jurisdiction on unrelated claims.  In the 1952 case Perkins v. Benguet Consolidated Mining Co., the Court held that an Ohio state court properly could assert general jurisdiction in a shareholder’s claim against a Philippine mining company that had halted operations during World War II and moved its scaled-back office to Ohio.[242]  The Court stated that the issue was one of fairness, referring to International Shoe’s multiple “[a]ppropriate tests” (the four case examples listed in International Shoe).[243]  The Court explained that the case was in the category where the defendant’s contacts were “so substantial” that they justified suit on causes of action entirely distinct from the forum activities.[244]  The defendant’s president “carried on in Ohio a continuous and systematic supervision of the necessarily limited wartime activities of the company.”[245]  The company in essence had relocated in Ohio for the duration of the war.

Thirty-two years later, the Court returned to the issue in Helicol.[246]  There, the defendant operated a helicopter charter service in South America, and one of its helicopters crashed in Peru, killing American oil pipeline workers.[247]  Their widows sued in state court in Texas.  The defendant had purchased helicopters in Texas, sent some of its staff for training in Texas, negotiated the particular charter service with the decedents’ employer in Texas, and taken payment from checks drawn on Texas banks.[248]  The Court held that these contacts were not enough to support jurisdiction in Texas over the case at hand, where the plaintiffs conceded that the claim was unrelated to Helicol’s Texas contacts.[249]  Unlike the Ohio contacts in Perkins, Helicol’s contacts did not show a continuous and systematic business presence in Texas.[250]

Perkins and Helicol by themselves did not give much clarity with regard to general jurisdiction analysis.  They affirmed the legitimacy of general jurisdiction under the International Shoe minimum contacts analysis, but they provided only marginal guidance in determining the extent of contacts necessary to support jurisdiction over unrelated causes of action.  They used vague references to “general business” contacts to describe the necessary basis for general jurisdiction.  In terms of their actual holding, the two cases were relatively far apart with respect to the extent of contacts at issue.[251]

In 2011, the Court in Goodyear did not completely resolve the question, but it significantly advanced the analysis by setting an “at home” standard for the continuous and systematic contacts necessary for general jurisdiction.  The Court declared that “[a] court may assert general jurisdiction over foreign (sister-state or foreign-country) corporations to hear any and all claims against them when their affiliations with the State are so ‘continuous and systematic’ as to render them essentially at home in the forum State.”[252]

In Goodyear, the defendants were separately incorporated foreign subsidiaries of the Goodyear Tire and Rubber Company,[253] based and operating in Turkey, France, and Luxembourg.  The three foreign defendants’ only contact with North Carolina was “a small percentage” of their total tire sales.[254]  The Court held that these sales were insufficient to support jurisdiction in North Carolina on an unrelated claim.[255]

Importantly, the Court clarified that the mere presence of continuous and systematic contacts was not, by itself, sufficient for general jurisdiction.  It stated that “[a] corporation’s ‘continuous activity of some sorts within a state,’ International Shoe instructed, ‘is not enough to support the demand that the corporation be amenable to suits unrelated to that activity.’”[256]  This is an important point because courts and commentators often applied this International Shoe phrase—continuous and systematic—as the sole test of general personal jurisdiction.[257]

The Goodyear clarification is not a new standard but is instead the correct reading of International Shoe.  The Court in International Shoe used this phrase to describe the “maybe” case of jurisdiction (continuous and systematic contacts unrelated to the suit), just as it used other terms to describe the “maybe” case for specific jurisdiction (isolated or casual contacts that give rise to the suit).[258]  These were merely “maybe” cases.  Just as “related” is an essential threshold for specific jurisdiction but not the sole question (i.e., among other things, the contacts must be purposeful), “continuous and systematic” is essential for general jurisdiction but not necessarily sufficient.

The Court in Goodyear used Perkins as the “textbook” case to clarify the “sorts” of continuous and systematic activities that would satisfy due process.[259]  “Unlike the defendant in Perkins, whose sole wartime business activity was conducted in Ohio, petitioners are in no sense at home in North Carolina.”[260]  Elsewhere, the Court described the “paradigm” case for general jurisdiction over corporations as the place “in which the corporation is fairly regarded as at home.”[261]  The Court thus adopted an at-home test for the “continuous and systematic” contacts necessary to establish general jurisdiction.

The at-home standard narrows Perkins from its potentially wide reach.  Prior to Goodyear, Perkins was susceptible to a broad reading.  In terms of quantity, the Ohio activities were relatively minor and few in number when compared either to the defendant corporation’s mining operations in the Philippines prior to World War II or to the normal business activities of many domestic corporations.[262]  Although the Court in a dictum in Keeton described the forum in Perkins as the defendant’s “principal, if temporary, place of business,”[263] the Court in Helicol used a more open-ended phrase, describing the defendant in Perkins as having “continuous and systematic general business contacts” in Ohio.[264]  That phrase could result in general jurisdiction in almost every state for many major corporations.  In Goodyear, the Court reined in that description by using the at-home standard and by stating that the defendant in Perkins “had ceased activities in the Phillippines” and “[t]o the extent that the company was conducting any business during and immediately after the Japanese occupation . . . , it was doing so in Ohio.”[265]  The new Goodyear language has a tighter focus than that of Helicol.  A corporation might have “general business contacts” in several states, but it is “at home” in very few states, and, likely, in only a single place, as in Perkins.

The at-home standard is a good fit with the four fairness principles.  First, if a defendant has so many contacts with a state that it is at home there, the great benefits of those contacts  will be reciprocal to the burden—unlimited jurisdiction.[266]  Second, suits are predictable in the defendant’s home state.  Because the defendant is at home in the state, it can expect to be sued there on any act it did anywhere in the world.  Third, although the state may not have sovereignty over the activities that occurred in another state, it has sovereignty over persons who make the state their home.[267]  Finally, a defendant can conveniently defend an action from its home, even if the claim arose elsewhere.  The defendant will be familiar with the legal system, culture, and infrastructure of his home state.

The Court in Goodyear did not develop a multipart test for general jurisdiction as it did for specific personal jurisdiction in World-Wide Volkswagen.[268]  Once a claim is unrelated and subject to general jurisdiction analysis, the sole question becomes whether the defendant is “at home” in the forum state.  There is no second “reasonableness” prong.  But that does not mean that courts cannot look to broader fairness policy in making the at-home assessment.  Indeed, I contend that the four fairness concerns, derived from International Shoe, appropriately should guide courts in applying the at-home standard.  I use those four fairness factors below to define and apply the at-home standard in a variety of contexts.

B.     Timing of the Contacts for General Jurisdiction “At-Home” Analysis

One element of general jurisdiction assessment is the timing of the contacts.[269]  Which contacts, in terms of their timing, are relevant to general jurisdiction analysis?  The Court has not directly addressed this timing issue, but, previously, many lower courts looked to a period of years immediately preceding and including the filing date.[270]  A period of years may be appropriate in some cases, but the primary focus should be current contacts at the time plaintiff filed suit.  This is especially true in light of the Goodyear at-home standard.

To be sure, the Court in Perkins did not look at one particular date in isolation but instead looked at the broader period in which the defendant had been operating in Ohio.[271]  The point of this inquiry, however, was whether the defendant had a general business presence or, in the terms of Goodyear, whether it was then at home in Ohio.  A period of a few years might help assess whether the defendant is now at home in a particular state, but former contacts, which are now terminated, should be largely irrelevant.[272]

The timing element necessarily differs for general and specific jurisdiction.[273]  Specific jurisdiction is claim specific, so it properly looks at all of the events that relate to the claim, even though those contacts may be long terminated.  General jurisdiction, by contrast, is defendant specific.  It is not based on the activity at issue in the suit but instead is based on the defendant’s general activities in the state.  It is the current activity that makes unrelated jurisdiction fair.

General jurisdiction based solely, or even primarily, on former, terminated contacts with the forum state would not satisfy the four fairness concerns.  It would not advance reciprocity.  Although the defendant once had a great deal of forum benefits, he no longer has any.  It would not be proportional to hold a defendant amenable to suit for all time solely because he once had extensive contacts with the state.  It would not be predictable.  The defendant would have to assume that he would be subject to suit in any state in which he once had extensive contacts, no matter how long ago.  The state of his former home would no longer have sovereignty over him.  That a state once had sovereignty over its resident does not mean that the state retains that sovereignty for all time.  Finally, although the defendant might find defense of a suit in his former home state more convenient that some other states—he would be familiar with the legal system and culture of his former home—such convenience would not be significantly greater than that in any other state with which the defendant is generally familiar.  He still would have the burden of traveling to and defending in a state that has no relationship to the claim.

Before Goodyear, lower courts often addressed this timing question in the context of deciding the breadth of jurisdictional discovery, and they typically allowed discovery over a period of multiple years.[274]  Goodyear made such broad discovery less essential.  Formerly, the focus on the jurisdictional discovery in lower courts often was the defendant’s sales and other business activities in the forum state to determine whether they were “continuous and systematic.”  The examination now should focus on where the defendant is at home.  That inquiry need not focus exclusively on a single day, but it likely does not need to cover a period of multiple years.  In sum, the proper test for the extent of contacts is whether the defendant is now at home in the forum state.

C.     General Jurisdiction Over Natural Persons

Because the Court’s discussions of general jurisdiction based on contacts all involved corporate defendants, the question arises whether the doctrine applies at all to natural persons.[275]  Justice Scalia raised this question in Burnham v. Superior Court.[276]  After noting that the only holding (at that time) that had applied general contacts-based jurisdiction was Perkins, involving a corporate defendant, Justice Scalia said, “It may be that whatever special rule exists permitting ‘continuous and systematic’ contacts . . . to support jurisdiction with respect to matters unrelated to activity in the forum applies only to corporations, which have never fitted comfortably in a jurisdictional regime based primarily on ‘de facto power over the defendant’s person.’”[277]  He is only partially correct with regard to the history.  It is true that, under Pennoyer, general personal jurisdiction over natural persons usually arose solely from in-state service, and the expansion of general jurisdiction based on forum activities typically applied to corporations.[278]  However, the Court in Milliken v. Meyer[279] also expanded general jurisdiction to apply to absent individuals who were domiciled in, but served outside, the forum state.[280]

Moreover, nothing about International Shoe or the minimum contacts test requires this limitation.  International Shoe itself involved a corporate defendant, but the Court subsequently applied specific minimum contacts analysis to individual defendants.[281]  General jurisdiction based on contacts is an integral part of minimum contacts analysis,[282] and it seemingly should apply to individuals, just as the specific jurisdiction component does.  The Court in Goodyear assumed general jurisdiction over individuals, albeit in a dictum,[283] and Justice Kennedy’s opinion in McIntyre (in which Justice Scalia joined) did the same.[284]

Having said this, general jurisdiction based on an individual’s extensive contacts with a state may be a largely academic point.  This is because the Court permitted general jurisdiction over natural persons based on in-state service in Burnham.[285]  In any situation in which an individual defendant has significant enough contacts with a particular state to be at home there and warrant general jurisdiction, the plaintiff usually can avoid and render moot any minimum contacts analysis by serving the defendant in that state.

The question nevertheless remains as to the nature of an individual’s contacts that would support general jurisdiction.  The Court largely answered this question inGoodyear by defining the place as where the defendant is at home.  However, dictum in Goodyear also described an individual’s domicile as the “paradigm forum” for proper general jurisdiction.[286]  In most cases, domicile would describe the home of a natural person.  “Domicile,” in most applications, best captures the essence of a person being at home, as opposed to a case, for example, where a person merely visited the state on a frequent basis.[287]  But, in a few cases, even “domicile” is not the proper at-home state for a natural person.

That domicile is an adequate basis on which to base general jurisdiction is a very common proposition.  It was one of Professor Brilmayer’s paradigm cases of unique affiliations.[288]  The doctrine has historical pedigree.  In Milliken v. Meyer, the Court held that the state of a defendant’s domicile properly could assert personal jurisdiction even if the defendant were absent and could not be served in the state.[289]  Although the case predated International Shoe, the Court in International Shoe cited Milliken for the minimum contacts test itself, quoting Milliken’s “traditional notions of fair play and substantial justice” language.[290]

The historical pedigree might cause Justice Scalia and others to conclude that domicile, like in-state service in Burnham, is an automatic basis for general jurisdiction, consistent with due process, independent of minimum contacts analysis.[291]  A majority of the Court, however, has not adopted the historical pedigree argument.[292]  Moreover, even Justice Scalia’s reasoning arguably does not extend to a technical domiciliary.  In Burnham, Justice Scalia avoided Shaffer’s holding that all assertions of jurisdiction must be assessed under minimum contacts analysis by arguing that the Shaffer mandate applied only to absent defendants, not persons in the state at the time of service.[293]  General jurisdiction based on domicile, rather than in-state service, almost certainly would connote an absent defendant.  Thus, even under Justice Scalia’s logic in BurnhamInternational Shoe minimum contacts analysis should apply to determine if general jurisdiction based on domicile satisfies due process.

Domicile is a legal term used to fix one’s location for a wide variety of purposes, including federal diversity subject matter jurisdiction and many aspects of choice of law.  First-year law students learn that the legal tests for domicile—usually phrased as physical residence coupled with an intention to remain in that place indefinitely[294]—can have odd results, fixing domicile in some cases where a person has not had any contact for years.  A good example is the diversity case of Mas v. Perry,[295] commonly included in Civil Procedure casebooks.[296]  There, a woman kept the domicile of her childhood home of Mississippi, even though she had been married and living elsewhere for years and had no intention of returning to Mississippi.[297]  She kept her domicile because she had yet to reside in a new state in which she intended to remain indefinitely.  The court held that “[u]ntil she acquire[d] a new domicile, she remain[ed] a domiciliary, and thus a citizen, of Mississippi.”[298]  Mississippi would have remained her domicile even if she had not had any contact with Mississippi for several years.

Not all courts would reach the same result on the domicile issue,[299] but the holding in Mas demonstrates that domicile is not always a fair basis for general jurisdiction.  The problem is that domicile, in some applications, prioritizes intent, or more aptly lack of intent, over contacts.  Justice Kennedy spoke of intention to submit to a state’s authority in McIntyre,[300] but he did not base jurisdiction on the failure to form an intention to stay elsewhere.  In the Mas example, Mrs. Mas had no intention to submit to Mississippi’s authority.  To the contrary, she had an intention not to return to Mississippi.  She simply had not decided where else she wanted to live indefinitely.

Under the four fairness concerns, it would not be fair to make Mrs. Mas return to Mississippi to defend a claim unrelated to the state.  Mrs. Mas had not received benefits from Mississippi in years, so the burden of continuing broad jurisdiction there would not be reciprocal.  She could not predict that she would have to return to Mississippi to defend a claim concerning her activities in another state.  Mississippi had no sovereignty over a citizen who left the state years before and had never returned.  Mississippi, as her childhood residence, would not provide convenience in her adulthood, years after leaving the state.

This is not to say that the place that qualifies as a domicile for most persons will not be proper for general jurisdiction.  In most cases, jurisdiction will be proper in the state where the person is domiciled.  But, because it is a technical legal term, loaded with an intent element, “domicile” is not an appropriate shorthand for the place at which general jurisdiction is proper for a natural person.  The Goodyear Court coined a better term: “at home.”

D.    General Jurisdiction Over Corporations

There is no question that general jurisdiction properly applies to corporations, and the test now seems to be clarified—where the defendant corporation is at home. Goodyear gives some guidance on the proper application of the at-home standard, but it obviously did not settle every application.  The Court in dictum cited two places where general jurisdiction properly would apply to corporations—the place of incorporation and the principal place of business.[301]  In addition, in its actual holding, the Court rejected the very low percentage of sales present there as a proper basis for general jurisdiction.[302]  This leaves many questions, including the propriety of jurisdiction where the corporate defendant has an intermediate level of business contacts falling short of principal place of business.  I contend that a reasonable summary of the proper places for general jurisdiction can be taken from Goodyear—incorporation and principal place of business are proper bases for general jurisdiction, but sales are not.  Indeed, all other business contacts, including mere registration to do business, fall short of the standard for general jurisdiction.[303]

1.     Incorporation and Principal Place of Business

The Court in Goodyear identified the paradigm at-home states of a corporation as the states of its incorporation and principal place of business.[304]  Like domicile, these descriptions of jurisdiction are both common and rooted in history.  They describe citizenship for purposes of federal diversity subject matter jurisdiction, but unlike domicile, these terms also properly describe places in which a corporate defendant has sufficient contacts to justify general jurisdiction.  General jurisdiction fairly may be asserted against a corporation in the state in which it is incorporated and the state in which in maintains its principal place of business.  This conclusion, however, stems from the nature of the contacts associated with incorporation and principal place of business, not any technical legal conclusion.

The state of incorporation is the easiest case.  At one time, it was the only state in which a corporation could be sued.[305]  More importantly, the state of incorporation would pass modern minimum contacts analysis for general jurisdiction.  The corporation is at home in its state of incorporation even if it has no offices and does no business there.  That state is in essence the birth state of the corporation, and it is a birthplace that the corporation never left.  The corporation continues as an entity solely because of the laws of the state of its incorporation.

General jurisdiction in the state of incorporation is consistent with the four fairness rationales.[306]  The corporation arguably gets more benefits from this state than any other.  It owes its very existence to this state.[307]  Extensive burdens in the form of unlimited jurisdiction would not be disproportionate.  The corporation easily could predict this state as the state of general jurisdiction.[308]  The state has sovereignty over entities it creates.  Finally, the state is a convenient place in which to defend suits, even unrelated suits.  The corporation’s personnel may have some travel burden, but they are intimately familiar with the laws and court system of the state.

The state of a corporation’s principal place of business—at least as currently defined by the Court for purposes of subject matter jurisdiction—also passes theGoodyear at-home test.  “Principal place of business” is a term of art by which Congress defined a corporation’s state of citizenship for purpose of federal diversity subject matter jurisdiction.[309]  Courts for years struggled to define this statutory term.  In 2010, the Court in Hertz Corp. v. Friend[310] settled on a “nerve center” test defining principal place of business as “the place where a corporation’s officers direct, control, and coordinate the corporation’s activities.”[311]

The Hertz test has no direct application to general jurisdiction, which is a question of due process, not a question of federal statutory subject matter jurisdiction.  Yet, in every case, the state of a corporation’s nerve center under Hertz also should qualify as the corporation’s home for purposes of general jurisdiction.[312]  Unlike “domicile,” a term laden with an artificial intent element, the Hertz test for principal place of business turns on the corporation’s actual activities.  The activities thatHertz finds decisive—direction, control and coordination of the corporation’s overall activities—appropriately capture the place at which a corporation is at home.

This would be true even in the “anomaly” cases cited by the Court in Hertz.[313]  The Court recognized that application of the nerve center test in some applications would put the principal place of business in a state that did not predominate in terms of the corporation’s workforce or business operations.  As an example, the Court described a corporation with the bulk of its business activities visible to the public taking place in New Jersey but with officers in New York City.[314]  The Court concluded that the nerve center, and thus the principal place of business for diversity purposes, would be New York.[315]

The Hertz nerve center standard, even in this anomaly case, satisfies the four fairness concerns as applied to general jurisdiction.  The corporation receives significant benefits from the place in which its core operations are directed, controlled, and coordinated.  Even if the corporation has most of its other operations in another state, the corporation could not function absent this direction.  The officers of the corporation could predict that the entity would be subject to suit in this state.  It is where they personally are centered.  This state has sovereignty over the corporation because it is the state from which all actions of the corporation flow.  Finally, convenience is met.  The corporate officers have chosen this state as their base.  They are familiar with the state’s laws and legal system, and, to the extent they must personally participate in the defense, this state is the most convenient for them.  It is their home as well as that of the corporation.

This anomaly case, however, suggests a very limited exception where a corporation might have more than one home based on business contacts (as opposed to incorporation).  In cases where the vast bulk of operations are in a single state other than the nerve center, the corporation might be at home in two states—the nerve center state and the operations state.  Few corporations would qualify for this additional state in which they are at home.  In the anomaly case, the operations state is an additional state because the corporation always would be at home in its true nerve center, regardless of where its operations occur.  This extension of an additional home state would not apply to corporations that have operations spread out across the nation.  In these cases, the only at-home state for general jurisdiction would be the nerve center state.

This narrow extension of the at-home finding is limited and would not include states that might satisfy alternative tests for principal place of business.  In particular, I would reject the test used by the lower court in Hertz, which found Hertz’s principal place of business to be California because California, due to its relative population and size, constituted the vast majority of its business.[316]  I explain this reasoning more in the next two Subparts, but I state the proposition here to clarify my conclusion that the corporation is at home, for purposes of general jurisdiction, in its principal place of business.  That place is usually only a single state, but in rare cases, it may include two states.

2.     Sales in the Forum State

Courts and commentators long have struggled with whether sales alone are sufficient to support general jurisdiction, and, if so, what amount or proportion of sales is necessary for general jurisdiction.[317]  In a previous article, I devoted substantial discussion to these questions.[318]  Goodyear brought some closure to this issue when the Court rejected general jurisdiction based on the sales.[319]  However, because the North Carolina sales there constituted only a “small percentage” of the defendants’ total sales, some questions remain as to larger volumes of sales.[320]  I contend that forum state sales, no matter how substantial, are never, by themselves, sufficient to make the defendant “at home” for purposes of general jurisdiction.

Prior to Goodyear, the Court had provided only dictum regarding forum sales and general jurisdiction.  The Court stated in Keeton v. Hustler Magazine Co. that the defendant’s sales of 10,000–15,000 magazines every month in New Hampshire were not enough to support general jurisdiction there.[321]  Although the New Hampshire sales were a very low percentage of Hustler’s national sales,[322] the sales arguably could have met a vague “continuous and systematic” standard because they were regular, monthly sales.  Yet, they did not put Hustler at home in New Hampshire.

Lower courts were divided as to whether sales volume alone could support personal jurisdiction.[323]  Many refused to base general jurisdiction on even relatively large amounts of sales.  In Bearry v. Beech Aircraft Corporation,[324] for example, the Fifth Circuit reversed a finding of general jurisdiction where the defendant sold $250 million in airplane products in the forum.[325]  Likewise, the Ninth Circuit in Shute rejected general jurisdiction based on forum cruise sales of only 1.29% of the defendant’s total cruise sales.[326]  Yet, other courts before Goodyear based general jurisdiction on a low relative amount of sales in the forum state.[327]

Scholars debated these issues.  Professor Brilmayer argued that general jurisdiction properly could be based on “substantial local [forum state] activities,” but she did not specify the nature of those activities—sales, local offices, or manufacturing.[328]  She argued that the adequacy of the forum state activities should not be based on their amount relative to the corporation’s activities in other states but instead should be based on their absolute quantity in the forum state.[329]  Professor Twitchell argued for a more narrow interpretation of the proper places for general jurisdiction and noted that courts tended to look at comparative sales volumes “because they lack any better guide.”[330]

A policy analysis argues against ever basing general jurisdiction on mere sales volume.  First, this standard would not help achieve reciprocity.  The defendant has a defined set of benefits—whatever the sales volume in the state—but almost unlimited burdens in defending all possible claims, by all plaintiffs, on all matters worldwide.  Second, a sales standard would give little predictability.  The defendant would have to assume that it was subject to jurisdiction on all possible claims, even unrelated employment or antitrust suits, merely because it regularly sold a certain product in the state.  The state would have a weak sovereignty interest.  The actual activity underlying the claims necessarily occurred elsewhere, and the defendant is far from being a forum citizen.  The state has sovereignty over that defendant’s particular sales in the state, but those sales alone do not give the state a legitimate sovereignty interest in every activity that the defendant does anywhere in the world.

Considerations of convenience are mixed.  They do not argue strongly against general jurisdiction based on sales alone, but they also do not argue for it.  On the one hand, the defendant found access to the state to be sufficiently convenient to distribute its products there.  On the other hand, the fact that the defendant was able to sell its product in the forum state does not mean that defense of an unrelated suit is convenient.  By definition, the claims do not derive from the defendant’s forum activities, so relevant evidence is unlikely to be located in the state.  Unlike the defendant’s home base, sales alone do not necessarily mean that the defendant has ease and familiarity with the state’s entire legal system and culture.

This analysis would be true for all levels of sales.  Admittedly, when the defendant has a significant amount of sales, it gets greater forum benefits, but balance is not achieved because the burdens would be unlimited.  The seller would have to face suit on any claim arising anywhere in the world.  As I explore more fully in the next Subparts, reciprocity needs a significant, arguably unique, relationship to offset these burdens.  Mere sales, no matter how significant, do not create this unique connection to a state.  Similarly, a high volume of sales would not make suits on other nonsales matters predictable.  Nor would such sales give the state any greater sovereignty interest over these outside matters.  Convenience might begin to tilt with a greater volume of sales, creating greater familiarity with the legal system and forum state culture, but convenience alone does not outweigh the other fairness considerations.  In sum, although the fairness concerns are not as compelling for a high volume of sales as they are with low volumes, such as those in Keeton and Goodyear, the concerns, on balance, do not support general jurisdiction based solely on any level of sales.  The state would have fairly extensive specific jurisdiction on claims arising from the high volume of in-state sales.

3.     “Doing Business” and Corporate Registration

I next address whether there is any significance of the corporation “doing business,” or registering to do business, in the forum state.[331]  To some degree, this issue is redundant of the above analyses of principal place of business and sales volume.  However, because these terms seem to have special significance to the Court and others, I separately analyze whether either “doing business” or registration is an adequate basis for general jurisdiction.

In many jurisdiction cases, the court’s statement of the pertinent contacts of the corporate defendant include whether the defendant was “doing business” in the forum state or registered to do business there.  The implication is that these places might support general jurisdiction.  The Court in Rush v. Savchuck[332] stated this explicitly, albeit in dicta, where it said that the defendant insurer was “‘found,’ in the sense of doing business, in all 50 States” and that its “forum contacts would support in personam jurisdiction even for an unrelated cause of action.”[333]  In Goodyear, the Court stated that “[i]n contrast to the parent company, Goodyear USA, which does not contest . . . jurisdiction over it, petitioners are not registered to do business in North Carolina.”[334]  I contend that neither “doing business” nor registration, by itself, confers general jurisdiction.  General jurisdiction is limited to the one or two states in which the corporation is at home.

The “doing business” standard has a long history, but that history does not answer whether “doing business” is itself enough for general jurisdiction.  In thePennoyer era, courts often used this standard to determine whether corporations who had not registered were nonetheless subject to jurisdiction in the state through a theory of implied consent or fictional presence.[335]  Satisfaction of that standard resulted in general jurisdiction in some cases but only specific jurisdiction in others, depending on the court and theory of jurisdiction.  Indeed, this was one of the anomalies of the Pennoyer-era standards that the Court in International Shoeattempted to eliminate.  The Court substituted the minimum contacts analysis and used the “maybe” case of general jurisdiction as a shorthand to describe all of these cases.  It would be a distortion of the historical role of the “doing business” standard to conclude that it automatically confers general jurisdiction.

A preliminary consideration is defining what activities constitute “doing business” in the state.[336]  It is a very broad standard, as it was in the Pennoyer era.[337]  It may connote merely that the defendant has sales in the forum state.  It also may mean that the defendant is engaged in marketing and advertising, which likely would occur whenever a corporation has any regular sales in a state.  General jurisdiction should not follow from this form of “doing business” for the same reasons that I outline in Part IV.D.2 for sales volume.  “Doing business” also might connote corporate offices and facilities in the state.  Such operations might rise to the level of a “nerve center” principal place of business, and if so, the corporation would be at home in that state, subject to general jurisdiction.  However, if the contacts fall short of the principal place of business standard, the fact that they may be described as “doing business” does not confer general jurisdiction.

Take as an example a corporation such as McDonald’s.  Before Goodyear was decided, Professor Glannon argued that, because the corporation has a very strong physical presence in most states, through its numerous employees and restaurants, McDonald’s has “continuous and systematic” contacts in these states and is subject to general jurisdiction in all such states.[338]  This is too broad a standard.  Under Goodyear, the question is not whether McDonald’s has “continuous and systematic” contacts in these states but instead is whether it is at home in the states.  I answer no.  Merely doing business in a state should not confer general personal jurisdiction for many of the same reasons that a large quantum of sales should not.  The mere fact that the defendant has many physical properties and employees, in addition to sales, in the state does not render that state the home of the corporation.

I contend that the at-home standard is necessarily limited.  That phrase suggests a single place or very few places.[339]  The Court in Goodyear focused on the singular nature of the defendant’s Ohio contacts in Perkins.[340]  It described the defendant as doing business in Ohio and in no other place.[341]  Some scholars before Goodyear advocated for a single place, similar to home, for general personal jurisdiction.[342]  Professor Twitchell, for example argued for a single place of general jurisdiction in order to provide a single predictable forum in which the defendant always may be sued.[343]

Although I agree that general jurisdiction is necessarily limited and narrow, I do not agree that the rationale underlying general jurisdiction is the need for an available forum.  General jurisdiction is not a doctrine of jurisdiction by necessity.[344]  I acknowledge that this rationale can be seen in Perkins,[345] but Helicolconfirms that there need not be an available forum.[346]  Texas was the closest state for general jurisdiction, but the Court rejected it.[347]  There apparently was no state in the nation in which the South American defendant would be subject to general jurisdiction.  Likewise, under the facts stated in both Goodyear and McIntyre, there likely is no state in which any of the foreign national defendants are subject to general jurisdiction.[348]

I instead justify the narrow reach of general jurisdiction under the four fairness concerns.  I contend that a single home is the proper standard, not because the aim is to provide a single forum but rather because, in almost all circumstances, only a single place satisfies the four fairness aims of general jurisdiction.

To achieve reciprocity, the benefits of the forum state must be very high to offset the unlimited burdens of general jurisdiction.  Indeed, the burden of unlimited jurisdiction is quite high, prompting the question whether any amount of business can offset that burden.  Professor Stein used this point—the unlimited burdens of general jurisdiction—to argue that reciprocity is not a legitimate policy concern underlying general jurisdiction.[349]  In a similar vein, Professor Twitchell questioned whether reciprocity or quid pro quo theory properly applied to general jurisdiction.[350]  She acknowledged that reciprocity was important to specific jurisdiction because relatedness keeps the risks proportionate to the benefits, but she observed that there was no equivalent proportionality for activities based on general jurisdiction.[351]  She based this observation on the fact that courts regularly exercise general jurisdiction over defendants with no physical presence in the forum state.[352]

I argue that reciprocity does in fact have a proper role in general jurisdiction analysis.  The potential breadth of the burdens imposed by general jurisdiction does not undermine reciprocity as a fairness concern but instead argues for limiting the locations for general jurisdiction to unique or special places.  Reciprocity helps demonstrate why lower courts were incorrect in asserting general jurisdiction on “doing business” contacts.  Reciprocity demonstrates why the Supreme Court correctly limited general jurisdiction to the home state.  In order to achieve even a rough reciprocity, there must be something special about the benefits.  For example, in Perkins, the defendant had a relatively low level of business activity, in terms of sheer quantity, but Ohio was unique to the corporation.  During the war, it owed its existence to Ohio.

A standard based on a single at-home state, as opposed to one embracing multiple states of doing business, also promotes predictability.  The corporation would know that it is subject to general jurisdiction in one state and that, in all other states, it would be subject to specific jurisdiction only on suits related to its conduct in those other states.  The at-home standard easily identifies the state of general jurisdiction.  The business knows its jurisdictional exposure based on where it chose to base its operations.  Without such a limitation, the corporation would have to guess as to which intermediate levels of business would expose it to unlimited jurisdiction.

The sovereignty concern also argues for a narrow reach of general jurisdiction.  A state does not have sovereignty over all of a corporation’s activities solely because the corporation chose to conduct some, or even a significant amount, of its business there.  To be sure, the state would have a great deal of sovereignty over a corporation that conducts a significant amount of business within its borders—because the amount of the activity is significant—but the state’s sovereignty would extend only to that particular business, in the form of specific jurisdiction.  To justify jurisdiction over a case entirely unrelated to that state, the state must have sovereignty over the person of the defendant.  Professor Stein and others have defined this to be a “citizen-like affiliation”: “There is something different about the authority that one’s home state has toward members of its political community.”[353]  I agree with the concept, if not the literal term “citizen.”  The special sovereignty concern is precisely what “home” conveys.

Finally, for the corporation to enjoy full convenience in defense of unrelated claims, the suit must be brought in the corporation’s unique home state.  By definition, the corporation already must transport the case-specific evidence to the home state, but it should not also have to transport its home conveniences to another state.  In sum, the corporation should not be subject to general jurisdiction based merely on it “doing business” in the forum.

The term “doing business” may be jurisdictionally significant in another way because it often connotes that the corporation is registered to do business in the state.  Many state registration statutes use the term “doing business” as the triggering event requiring registration.[354]  These statutes have a long history.  In thePennoyer era, states and courts used registration statutes as a means to get a corporation to formally consent to jurisdiction.[355]  Because the typical triggering condition was “doing business,” courts borrowed that term to imply consent or find fictional presence when the corporation had not formally registered and consented to jurisdiction.

Perhaps due to this historical connection between “doing business,” registration, and jurisdiction, many modern observers conclude (or assume) that registration to do business automatically confers jurisdiction.  This is perhaps why so many corporate defendants, such as the Goodyear parent company, do not challenge jurisdiction.  This likely is a mistaken assumption, even as to Goodyear USA.[356]

First, most corporate registration statutes do not state the jurisdictional repercussions of registration.[357]  In a tradition dating back to the Pennoyer era, most registration statutes require merely that the corporation name an in-state agent for service of process and do not mention “jurisdiction.”[358]  A few states interpret this appointment of an agent only as a means of facilitating service (notice) where jurisdiction is otherwise proper under minimum contacts analysis.[359]  Some hold that the local registration statute confers jurisdiction but only specific jurisdiction over claims arising out of the corporation’s in-state activities.[360]  In these states, mere registration would not confer general jurisdiction over a registering corporation.

Some states, however, interpret their registration statutes as conferring general jurisdiction.[361]  They do so on one of two theories.  First, a very few cite toBurnham and use a theory of tag jurisdiction over corporations based on the corporation’s appointment of an in-state agent for service.[362]  This almost certainly is not a proper view.[363]  Burnham involved in-state service on a natural person, and Justice Scalia suggested that tag jurisdiction is limited to natural persons.[364]  Even under Pennoyer, where service was the primary means of securing jurisdiction, corporate jurisdiction was based on theories of implied consent or presence through business activities, not the mere fact of in-state service.[365]  The Court in the Pennoyer era repeatedly held that in-state service on a corporate agent was not enough to confer jurisdiction where the corporation otherwise did not do sufficient business in the state.[366]  In International Shoe itself, the defendant’s salesman was served in the forum, but the Court based jurisdiction on contacts, rather than in-state service.[367]  Similarly, in Perkins, the defendant’s president was served in Ohio while acting in his corporate capacity, but the Court based general jurisdiction on the corporation’s forum contacts, not in-state service.[368]

Most courts that rely on corporate registration to confer general jurisdiction do so on a second theory of consent, rather than a minimum contacts analysis.[369]  A consent theory changes the constitutional inquiry.  First, it shifts any due process analysis from minimum contacts to the validity of the consent.  Under Bauxites, consent is a proper basis for jurisdiction, independent of International Shoe minimum contacts analysis.[370]  This raises the question whether registration is a valid form of consent.  This topic is beyond the scope of this Article, in which I focus on general jurisdiction based on the defendant’s contacts, but a few scholars have argued that forced consent to general jurisdiction through a corporate registration statute may violate due process.[371]

Even if consent through registration were to survive due process scrutiny, it would face problems under the Dormant Commerce Clause.  I hope to more fully develop this question in a later article, but I briefly discuss it here to give some context to the question.  In the period immediately preceding International Shoe, the Court used the Dormant Commerce Clause to invalidate some exercises of general jurisdiction.[372]  Since then, the doctrine rarely has been invoked in the context of personal jurisdiction, but some commentators have raised Dormant Commerce Clause concerns with registration statutes.[373]

The court suggested this concern in Bendix Autolite Corp. v. Midwesco Enterprises.[374]  Bendix was a Dormant Commerce Clause challenge to a state law that forced out-of-state corporations to choose between registration-consent to general jurisdiction[375] and the statute of limitation defense.[376]  The Court found that the law impermissibly burdened interstate commerce.[377]  The Court’s analysis focused primarily on the loss of the statute of limitation defense,[378] but Ohio’s requirement that the corporation consent to general jurisdiction, as opposed to specific jurisdiction, was critical to the Court’s holding.  The Court stated that the “designation of an agent subjects the foreign corporation to the general jurisdiction of the Ohio courts in matters to which Ohio’s tenuous relation would not otherwise extend.”[379]  Importantly, the Court described general jurisdiction as a “substantial burden”[380] and concluded that the “extraction” of the consent through waiver of the limitation defense was “an unreasonable burden on commerce.”[381]

Scholars and lower courts do not agree on the impact of Bendix on corporation registration statutes.[382]  In the aftermath of Bendix, most states no longer force corporations to choose between consent to general jurisdiction and waiver of the statute of limitation defense.  Registration statutes nonetheless remain coercive and punish nonregistration through fines and forfeiture of the right to bring suit in local courts.[383]  In sum, it is safe to conclude that corporate registration does not always confer general jurisdiction even under these other (not contacts-based) theories.  Nor should registration by itself satisfy the at-home standard for general jurisdiction.

E.     “Sliding Scale” or “Hybrid” Forms of Jurisdiction

Finally, some courts and commentators have suggested that jurisdiction is proper in cases that fall between the definitions or categories of specific and general jurisdiction.  They object to strict characterization of a case as falling in one category or the other.  They suggest either a “sliding scale” or “hybrid” approach.  Professor Richman proposes a sliding scale theory,[384] and Professor Simard a hybrid form of jurisdiction.[385]  The theories vary slightly, but both would find proper jurisdiction in fact patterns that are “near misses” on both the relatedness and extent of contacts factors.

The sliding scale approach argues that jurisdiction may be fair where the claim is somewhat related to the defendant’s forum contacts so long as the defendant also had a moderate amount of forum contacts.[386]  An example is a products liability claim based on the defendant’s regular sale of similar products in the forum state.  The plaintiff bought and was injured by the product in a second state, but the defendant regularly sells similar products in the forum state.  The relationship of the claim to the forum contacts—product similarity—would fall short of the meaningful link causation test, and the extent of the defendant’s forum state contacts—regular sales—would fall short of the at-home standard.  Yet, the claim is not entirely unrelated, as would be an employment claim filed by a corporate headquarters employee.  Likewise, the contacts are not few or isolated but are instead many and regular.  The sliding scale theory argues that the combination of the two intermediate levels on both elements makes jurisdiction fair.

A real life example of the sliding scale approach is Shoppers Food Warehouse v. Moreno,[387] decided en banc by the Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia.[388]  There, the plaintiff, a resident of the District, fell in a Maryland grocery store and brought suit against the store in the District of Columbia.[389]  The court found personal jurisdiction based on the fact that the Maryland store had advertised “extensively and over a substantial period of time in the District’s major circulation newspaper.”[390]  The court held that the plaintiff’s claim had a “discernible relationship” to this advertising.[391]  The court did not consider whether the advertising actually caused the plaintiff to go to the defendant’s store in Maryland.  In other words, it did not base its finding of jurisdiction on any form of causation test.  Instead, the court found it sufficient that plaintiff’s claim was the type of claim that would be foreseeable to the defendant.[392]  On the other element of extent of contacts, the court stated that a lesser level of contacts, such as a single or sporadic advertising, would not be sufficient for jurisdiction.[393]  Under the court’s ruling, the intermediate level of both factors—relatedness and extent of contacts—made jurisdiction fair.

The Moreno court was explicit about its intermediate approach, but, in practice, a sliding scale theory might explain the holdings of many courts which find general jurisdiction.[394]  For example, in Metropolitan Life Insurance Co. v. Robertson-Ceco Corp.,[395] where the Second Circuit purported to base general jurisdiction on less than one percent of sales, the claim was loosely related to the defendant’s forum contacts, a product similarity.[396]  The claim concerned curtain walls installed in Florida but which the defendant also sold in the Vermont forum.[397]  The court likely would not have based jurisdiction on an obviously unrelated claim—for example, an employment contract claim brought by an employee at the defendant’s headquarters located in another state.  Likewise, the court likely would not have found jurisdiction over an out-of-state consumer claim if the defendant had only a single, though similar, sale in the forum state.[398]  Yet, the court never formally made these distinctions and instead found jurisdiction seemingly based on a theory of general jurisdiction.

The hybrid theory has a slightly different focus and involves a case where the defendant has both a related nonpurposeful contact and a purposeful nonrelated contact.  It is demonstrated by a hypothetical based on the manufacturer Audi in World-Wide Volkswagen.  The hypothetical assumes the actual claim at issue inWorld-Wide Volkswagen—the plaintiffs’ claim of injury in Oklahoma by an allegedly defective Audi car sold to them in New York.  The hypothetical asks whether Audi, which did not contest jurisdiction in the actual case, would have been subject to jurisdiction under minimum contacts analysis.  The problem assumes that Audi regularly sells in Oklahoma cars similar to the car that the Robinsons alleged caused them injury in Oklahoma.

This hypothetical has an underlying sliding scale fact pattern—regular sales of similar products—but it adds another factor—the plaintiff’s injury in the forum state.  Under a hybrid theory, the addition of this factor might justify jurisdiction even where the two factors are not at the intermediate levels essential for jurisdiction under a sliding scale theory.  The key is that a purposeful unrelated contact combines with a nonpurposeful related contact.  Under the hybrid theory, this combination makes jurisdiction fair.

A hybrid theory might explain aspects of Justice O’Connor’s opinion in Asahi.[399]  In Asahi, Justice O’Connor refused to find purposeful availment in a product suit based solely on the manufacturer’s putting that product into the stream of commerce.[400]  She wanted something more: “an action of the defendant purposefully directed toward the forum State.”[401]  Justice O’Connor listed “additional conduct” that might “indicate an intent or purpose to serve the market in the forum,” including advertising in the forum, establishing channels for advice to customers in the state, and marketing a product through a distributor in the forum.[402]  At least some of these additional acts are not causally related to the claim.  For example, advertising the valve in California likely did not cause the consumer-plaintiff to buy the valve or the motorcycle.  Similarly, the Taiwanese company probably would have purchased valves from Asahi, regardless of whether Asahi advertised in California.

It is difficult to discern the import of Justice O’Connor’s statements.  One reading supports the hybrid theory.  In other words, jurisdiction is fair where there is both unrelated activity that is not causally related but which is purposeful (the additional factors she listed) and related activity that is not purposeful (the actual valve that caused injury in California).  Another reading is narrow and addresses only the purposeful availment factor.  Justice O’Connor’s list of additional conduct could be read not as a list of contacts that would make an otherwise insufficient contact fair but instead as a list of evidence indicating whether the related contact—the valve at issue—was purposefully directed to California.

The Court elsewhere has not endorsed any blending of the two forms of jurisdiction.  The Court’s listing of the four cases of jurisdiction in International Shoe could be read as an attempt to untangle the two forms.[403]  In Helicol, the Court addressed only general jurisdiction, refusing to consider any other form.[404]  Most recently, in Goodyear, the Court articulated general and specific jurisdiction as two distinct categories: “Opinions in the wake of the pathmaking International Shoedecision have differentiated between general or all-purpose jurisdiction, and specific or case-linked jurisdiction.”[405]

Moreover, policy analysis argues against jurisdiction based on either a sliding scale or hybrid theory.  First, as to a sliding scale theory, an intermediate level as to both essential elements does not make jurisdiction fair.  As I set out above, mere similarity in product is not a sufficient relationship on which to base specific jurisdiction, and on the extent of contacts factor, sales and advertising, alone, are not enough for general jurisdiction.  The sliding scale or hybrid theories would be a partial “fix” in that they would rein in some otherwise potentially extreme forms of jurisdiction.  In other words, a court would assert jurisdiction only over similar product sales, not entirely unrelated employment suits, and do so only where there is at least a moderate level of sales, not a single sale or advertisement.  Yet, the fix likely is not good enough.[406]

The benefits of even moderate levels of sales volume would not be reciprocal to the burden of having to defend all product claims based on all worldwide sales of that or similar products.  The defendant still would not have fair warning of its potential exposure to suit in the forum, even if limited to product liability.  Rather, it would have to assume that any steady stream of product sales would expose it to suit there on all product claims arising anywhere in the world.  In this case, the state still would be asserting authority over activities that occur exclusively outside its borders.  There would be little or no evidentiary concern in the forum because the products were sold and caused injury elsewhere.

The hybrid theory also fails this policy analysis.  The combination of unrelated-but-purposeful contacts and related-but-not-purposeful contacts does not make jurisdiction fair.  In the Audi hypothetical, the car sales are not by themselves enough to justify jurisdiction, for the same reasons that a sliding scale theory fails the policy analysis.  The question is whether the addition of the related contact—injury in the forum state—makes it fair.  A requirement of the forum-state injury narrows the extent of jurisdiction significantly over the typical sliding scale fact pattern.  Jurisdiction would extend to a much smaller group of claims—only those brought by plaintiffs who happen to be injured in the state.  This smaller sphere lessens some but not all of the policy concerns.

The mere fact that the potential for suit is smaller means that the burdens of jurisdiction do not as significantly outweigh the benefits.  In addition, the state would have a sovereignty interest over the injury, and some evidentiary convenience would come from the in-state injury.  But this injury remains an unpredictable fortuity, which is precisely why the Court found no purposeful availment and no jurisdiction in the actual World-Wide Volkswagen case.[407]  Amenability to suit would travel with the product, a concept repeatedly rejected by Court.[408]  To find jurisdiction on these facts would mean that all sellers of products would have to assume jurisdiction on any product they sold anywhere.

In sum, an assertion of jurisdiction that is otherwise unfair is not made fair by making modest adjustments in either the degree of relationship or the extent of local contacts.  The four fairness concerns demonstrate that the claim must be either sufficiently related or the contacts must be sufficiently extensive.  Jurisdiction is fair only when there either is a meaningful causal relationship between the claim and the defendant’s forum contacts or enough contacts to make the defendant at home in the forum state.

Conclusion

General jurisdiction warranted a “fresh look.”  Although the doctrine has historical pedigree, it has long been ill-defined.  In breaking its twenty-year silence on personal jurisdiction in 2011, the Court provided a good occasion for another look at general jurisdiction.  McIntyre captures the jurisdictional policy debate among the current members of the Court and thus provides a useful springboard for examining the policies underlying personal jurisdiction as a whole and general jurisdiction in particular.  The unanimous decision in Goodyear clarifies the proper standard for general jurisdiction—“at home” as opposed to merely “continuous and systematic.”  Although neither case settles the policy questions or standards for general jurisdiction, they both advance understanding of the issues.

As reflected in the debate between Justice Kennedy and Justice Ginsburg in McIntyre, the Court has proposed a wide range of policies underlying personal jurisdiction.  The fundamental policy aim is fairness, but fairness in the context of personal jurisdiction is not limited to either the sovereignty concern advocated by Justice Kennedy or the litigation convenience noted by Justice Ginsburg.  Fairness can and should include a number of considerations.  The Court has developed and debated these policy considerations in the context of specific jurisdiction but not general jurisdiction.

I propose that International Shoe itself provides essential guidance in the form of the two factors critical to minimum contacts analysis—relatedness and extent of contacts.  Understanding why and how these two factors impact the fairness of personal jurisdiction both informs general personal jurisdiction as a whole and defines the factors themselves.  I contend that the factors impact the fairness of jurisdiction in four ways: they help achieve reciprocity between the benefits and burdens of entering a state; they give predictability to the consequences of entering a state; they limit a state’s sovereignty to either actions or persons in its borders; and they assure a level of convenience.  This understanding in turn helps define the parameters of the factors themselves.

The threshold question of relatedness is the most difficult.  I propose that a midlevel causation test best fits both the Court’s jurisprudence and the four fairness policies.  This test would require a meaningful link between the plaintiff’s claim and the defendant’s forum state contacts.  In other words, general jurisdiction properly applies to all claims that do not have a meaningful causal link, and specific jurisdiction analysis, in the form of the two-prong World-Wide Volkswagentest, applies to claims that have this meaningful link.  This meaningful link test would not demand that a formal element of the claim occur in the state, but it would require some connection greater than mere unrestrained but-for causation.  By requiring this degree of relatedness before specific jurisdiction analysis applies, this test gives a rough reciprocity between forum benefits and jurisdictional burdens, gives the defendant a reasonable degree of predictability, limits state power to matters over which it has legitimate sovereignty, and assures some litigation convenience.

The second question of the extent of contacts necessary for general jurisdiction was made easier by Goodyear.  General jurisdiction is proper only in the state, or states, in which the defendant is currently at home.  The standard is not whether the defendant has “continuous and systematic” contacts with a state but is instead whether the defendant is currently at home in the state.  This at-home standard applies to natural persons, but, contrary to the Court’s dictum, it does not always align with legal domicile.  As to corporations, the state of incorporation and principal place of business (under a Hertz “nerve center” definition) always will constitute the home state.  These places usually will be the only home states for purposes of general jurisdiction.  Sales and other business activities in the state, including high volumes of sales, physical operations, “doing business,” and statutory registration, are not by themselves enough to support general jurisdiction.  Because the burdens of general jurisdiction are unlimited, only the unique affiliation of home achieves reciprocity between forum benefits and burdens, gives sufficient predictability for unrelated suits, limits state power to persons legitimately within the state’s sovereignty, and gives a sufficient measure of litigation convenience.

Just as with many other constitutional doctrines, courts must develop the standards through case application.  These two standards—“meaningful link” and “at home”—will give courts a better starting point for general jurisdiction analysis, and the four fairness concerns will aid the courts in interpreting and applying the standards.  Courts should strive to apply both standards in a manner that helps achieve reciprocity, protects predictability, limits sovereignty, and promotes convenience.  These four policy aims are rooted in International Shoe itself.  They explain the fairness of general personal jurisdiction.



          *   Douglas Arant Professor of Law, The University of Alabama School of Law.

      [1].   95 U.S. 714, 722 (1877), overruled in part by Shaffer v. Heitner, 433 U.S. 186 (1977).

      [2].   326 U.S. 310, 316 (1945).

      [3].   See generally Lea Brilmayer et al., A General Look at General Jurisdiction, 66 Tex. L. Rev 721 (1988) [hereinafter Brilmayer et al., General Look]; Lea Brilmayer, How Contacts Count: Due Process Limitations on State Court Jurisdiction, 1980 Sup. Ct. Rev. 77 (1980) [hereinafter Brilmayer, How Contacts Count]; Lea Brilmayer, Related Contacts and Personal Jurisdiction, 101 Harv. L. Rev. 1444 (1988) [hereinafter Brilmayer, Related Contacts].

      [4].   See generally Mary Twitchell, The Myth of General Jurisdiction, 101 Harv. L. Rev. 610 (1988) [hereinafter Twitchell, Myth]; Mary Twitchell, A Rejoinder to Professor Brilmayer, 101 Harv. L. Rev. 1465 (1988) [hereinafter Twitchell, Rejoinder].  See also Mary Twitchell, Why We Keep Doing Business with Doing-Business Jurisdiction, 2001 U. Chi. Legal F. 171, 172–79 (2001) [hereinafter Twitchell, Doing Business].

      [5].   See generally Patrick J. Borchers, The Problem with General Jurisdiction, 2001 U. Chi. Legal F. 119 (2001); Sarah R. Cebik, “A Riddle Wrapped in a Mystery Inside an Enigma”: General Personal Jurisdiction and Notions of Sovereignty, 1998 Ann. Surv. Am. L. 1 (1998); Mark M. Maloney, Specific Personal Jurisdiction and the “Arise From Or Related To” Requirement . . . What Does It Mean?, 50 Wash. & Lee L. Rev. 1265 (1993); Charles W. Rhodes, Clarifying General Jurisdiction, 34 Seton Hall L. Rev. 807 (2004); Flavio Rose, Related Contacts and Personal Jurisdiction: The “But For” Test, 82 Calif. L. Rev. 1545 (1994); Linda Sandstrom Simard, Hybrid Personal Jurisdiction: It’s Not General Jurisdiction, or Specific Jurisdiction, but Is It Constitutional?, 48 Case W. Res. L. Rev. 559 (1998) [hereinafter Simard, Hybrid Jurisdiction]; Linda Sandstrom Simard, Meeting Expectations: Two Profiles for Specific Jurisdiction, 38 Ind. L. Rev. 343 (2005) [hereinafter Simard, Two Profiles]; Allan R. Stein, Styles of Argument and Interstate Federalism in the Law of Personal Jurisdiction, 65 Tex. L. Rev. 689 (1987); Diane P. Wood, Adjudicatory Jurisdiction and Class Actions, 62 Ind. L.J. 597 (1987).  I joined the debate by analyzing general jurisdiction tests and policies as applied to national class actions.  See generally Carol Rice Andrews, The Personal Jurisdiction Problem Overlooked in the National Debate About “Class Action Fairness,” 58 SMU L. Rev. 1313 (2005).

      [6].   131 S. Ct. 2846 (2011).

      [7].   131 S. Ct. 2780 (2011).

      [8].   I draw inspiration for this term from Professor Brilmayer’s seminal article, A General Look at General Jurisdictionsupra note 3.  I am not alone in my review of McIntyre and Goodyear.  The South Carolina Law Review held a symposium in October 2011, in which Professor Brilmayer and other scholars addressed the cases.  See generally Lea Brilmayer & Matthew Smith, The (Theoretical) Future of Personal Jurisdiction: Issues Left Open by Goodyear Dunlop Tires v. Brownand J. McIntyre Machinery v. Nicastro, 63 S.C. L. Rev. 617 (2012).  Professor Stein examined the implications of Goodyear on general jurisdiction.  See generallyAllan R. Stein, The Meaning of “Essentially at Home” in Goodyear Dunlop, 63 S.C. L. Rev. 527 (2012).  Meir Feder, counsel in the Goodyear case, also addressed its impact.  See generally Meir Feder, Goodyear, “Home” and the Uncertain Future of Doing Business Jurisdiction,  63 S.C. L. Rev. 671 (2012).

      [9].   Int’l Shoe Co. v. Washington, 326 U.S. 310, 316 (1945).

    [10].   Pennoyer v. Neff, 95 U.S. 714, 722–24 (1877), overruled in part by Shaffer v. Heitner, 433 U.S. 186 (1977).  The Court based its holding on general principles of law because the judgment preceded enactment of the Fourteenth Amendment, but the Court also stated that due process would test the limits of proper jurisdiction thereafter.  Id. at 733.

    [11].   Initially, courts applied Pennoyer to enforcement of judgments in subsequent proceedings, but the Court later held that a judgment entered without jurisdiction was itself a violation of due process.  See Riverside & Dan River Cotton Mills v. Menefee, 237 U.S. 189, 196–97 (1915) (“[T]he fact that because unobservedly or otherwise judgments have been rendered in violation of the due process clause and their enforcement has been refused under the full faith and credit clause affords no ground for refusing to apply the due process clause and preventing that from being done which is by it forbidden and which if done would be void and not entitled to enforcement under the full faith and credit clause.”).

    [12].   Pennoyer, 95 U.S. at 733 (holding that, “[e]xcept in cases affecting the personal status of the plaintiff, and cases in which that mode of service may be considered to have been assented to in advance,” a defendant must be personally served in the state or his property must be brought under the control of the court).

    [13].   See Twitchell, Mythsupra note 4, at 614–18 (describing “the [e]arly [s]tatus of [g]eneral [j]urisdiction” and noting the legal and practical considerations that tended to make actions local).

    [14].   See Hess v. Pawloski, 274 U.S. 352, 356 (1927) (allowing implied appointment of agent for service of process in suits arising out of driving in Massachusetts); Kane v. New Jersey, 242 U.S. 160, 167 (1916) (permitting actual appointment of in-state agent for service on suits arising out of driving in New Jersey).

     [15].  See generally Gerard Carl Henderson, The Position of Foreign Corporations in American Constitutional Law 77–100 (photo. reprint 1999) (1918) (tracing early history and development of jurisdictional principles about corporations).

    [16].   See, e.g., Bank of Augusta v. Earle, 38 U.S. (13 Pet.) 519, 588 (1839) (“[A] corporation can have no legal existence out of the boundaries of the sovereignty by which it is created.”); see also Philip B. Kurland, The Supreme Court, the Due Process Clause and the In Personam Jurisdiction of State CourtsFrom Pennoyer toDenckla: A Review, 25 U. Chi. L. Rev. 569, 578 (1958).

    [17].   In 1855, the Court stated this common condition: a “corporation created by Indiana can transact business in Ohio only with the consent, express or implied, of the latter State,” and “[t]his consent may be accompanied by such conditions as Ohio may think fit to impose,” including in-state service of process.  Lafayette Ins. Co. v. French, 59 U.S. 404, 407 (1855).

    [18].   Id. at 407–08; see also R.R. Co. v. Harris, 79 U.S. 65, 81 (1870) (“[A corporation] cannot migrate, but may exercise its authority in a foreign territory upon such conditions as may be prescribed by the law of the place. . . .  If it does business there it will be presumed to have assented and will be bound accordingly.”).

    [19].   The Court stated:

Neither do we mean to assert that a State may not require a non-resident entering into a partnership or association, within its limits, or making contracts enforceable there, to appoint an agent . . . in the State to receive service of process and notice in legal proceedings instituted with respect to such partnership, association or contracts . . . and provide, upon their failure, to make such appointment . . . that service may be made upon a public officer designated for that purpose . . . .

Pennoyer v. Neff, 95 U.S. 714, 735 (1877), overruled in part by Shaffer v. Heitner, 433 U.S. 186 (1977).

    [20].   See St. Louis Sw. Ry. Co. v. Alexander, 227 U.S. 218, 226–28 (1913) (considering various “doing business” standards for determining “the presence of the corporation within the jurisdiction of the court”).

    [21].   See Kurland, supra note 16, at 584 (noting that the application of either the consent or the presence doctrine “created difficulties, for whichever was chosen it became necessary to determine whether the foreign corporation was ‘doing business’ within the state, either to decide whether its ‘consent’ could properly be ‘implied,’ or to discover whether the corporation was ‘present’”).  See generally Henderson, supra note 15, at 84–100 (discussing the two competing theories of implied consent and actual presence).

    [22].   204 U.S. 8, 21 (1907) (rejecting jurisdiction over an Indiana insurance company that did business in Pennsylvania because “it cannot be held that the company agreed that the service of process upon the insurance commissioner of that commonwealth would alone be sufficient to bring it into court with respect to allbusiness transacted by it, no matter where, with, or for the benefit of, citizens of Pennsylvania”).

    [23].   236 U.S. 115, 130 (1915) (“[The] power to designate by statute the officer upon whom service in suits against foreign corporations may be made relates to business and transactions within the jurisdiction of the state enacting the law. . . . [T]he statutory consent to be served does not extend to causes of action arising in other states.”).

    [24].   243 U.S. 93 (1917).

    [25].   Id. at 95–96.

    [26].   Id.

    [27].   See, e.g., Tauza v. Susquehanna Coal Co., 220 N.Y. 259, 268 (1917) (quoting Phila. & Reading R.R. v. McKibbin, 243 U.S. 264, 265 (1917)) (“[T]he jurisdiction does not fail because the cause of action sued upon has no relation in its origin to the business here transacted. . . .  The essential thing is that the corporation shall have come into the state.”); see also Kurland, supra note 16, at 582–83 (“A foreign corporation is amenable to process to enforce a personal liability, in the absense of consent, only if doing business within the State in such manner and to such extent as to warrant the inference that it is present there.”).

    [28].   Note, What Constitutes Doing Business by a Foreign Corporation for Purposes of Jurisdiction, 29 Colum. L. Rev. 187, 190–91 (1929) (“Few courts consider directly where the cause arose . . . .  [W]hile courts continue to talk in the traditional jargon . . . whether the cause of action arose in the forum is more often than not the determinative factor.”).

    [29].   See generally Henderson, supra note 15, at 96–100; Kurland, supra note 16, at 584–86.

    [30].   See Kurland, supra note 16, at 579–80.

    [31].   Smolik v. Phila. & Reading Coal & Iron Co., 222 F. 148, 150–51 (S.D.N.Y. 1915); see Int’l Shoe Co. v. Washington, 326 U.S. 310, 318 (1945) (citing Smolik, 222 F. at 151).

    [32].   Smolik, 222 F. at 150–51.

    [33].   See, e.g., Davis v. Farmers’ Co-op Equity Co., 262 U.S. 312, 317–18 (1923) (holding that the Dormant Commerce Clause forbade Minnesota from asserting jurisdiction over a Kansas railroad on a claim that was brought by a Kansas corporation and that arose in Kansas and noting that although the case resembled two cases in which the Court previously had upheld jurisdiction, “in both cases, the only constitutional objection asserted was violation of the due process clause”).

    [34].   See id. at 316–17 (noting that the statutory authorization of jurisdiction might withstand commerce clause scrutiny if, among other things, “the transaction out of which [the claim] arose had been entered upon within the [forum] state” (internal quotation marks omitted)); see also Missouri ex rel. St. Louis, B. & M. Ry. Co. v. Taylor, 266 U.S. 200, 207 (1924) (upholding jurisdiction against a commerce clause challenge and distinguishing Davis, in part based on possibility that the suit at issue in Taylor concerned negligence in the forum state).  That a cause of action arose outside the state, however, did not necessarily mean that the Court would invalidate the assertion of jurisdiction as unreasonably burdening interstate commerce.  The Court also looked at other factors, including party residence.  SeeHoffman v. Missouri ex rel. Foraker, 274 U.S. 21, 22–23 (1927) (upholding Missouri state court jurisdiction over a claim that arose in Kansas where the defendant was incorporated in Missouri).

    [35].   The Court did not address the Dormant Commerce Clause theory.  It cited the Davis case but limited its discussion of jurisdiction to the proper due process test for corporate jurisdiction.  Int’l Shoe, 326 U.S. at 318.

    [36].   Id. at 316 (quoting Milliken v. Meyer, 311 U.S. 457, 463 (1940)).

    [37].   Id. at 316–17 (stating that “presence” in its prior decisions was “used merely to symbolize those activities of the corporation’s agent within the state which courts will deem to be sufficient to satisfy the demands of due process”); id. at 318 (stating that some of its earlier jurisdiction decisions were “supported by resort to the legal fiction that [the corporation] has given its consent to service and suit, consent being implied from its presence in the state through the acts of its authorized agents” and that “more realistically it may be said that those authorized acts were of such a nature as to justify the fiction”).

    [38].   Id. at 311–19.  The Court in Goodyear recounted these four categories and described them as giving “specific content to the ‘fair play and substantial justice’ concept” of International Shoe.  Goodyear Dunlop Tires Operations, S.A. v. Brown, 131 S. Ct. 2846, 2853 (2011).

    [39].   Int’l Shoe, 326 U.S. at 317 (“‘Presence’ in the state . . . has never been doubted when the activities of the corporation there have not only been continuous and systematic, but also give rise to the liabilities sued on, even though no consent to be sued or authorization to an agent to accept service of process has been given.”(citations omitted)).

    [40].   Id. (“Conversely it has been generally recognized that the casual presence of the corporate agent or even his conduct of single or isolated items of activities in a state in the corporation’s behalf are not enough to subject it to suit on causes of action unconnected with the activities there. . . .  To require the corporation in such circumstances to defend the suit away from its home or other jurisdiction where it carries on more substantial activities has been thought to lay too great and unreasonable a burden on the corporation to comport with due process.” (citations omitted)).

    [41].   Id. at 318 (“While it has been held . . . that continuous activity of some sorts within a state is not enough to support the demand that the corporation be amenable to suits unrelated to that activity, . . . there have been instances in which the continuous corporate operations within a state were thought so substantial and of such a nature as to justify suit against it on causes of action arising from dealings entirely distinct from those activities.” (citations omitted)).

    [42].   Id. (“[A]lthough the commission of some single or occasional acts of the corporate agent in a state sufficient to impose an obligation or liability on the corporation has not been thought to confer upon the state authority to enforce it, . . . other such acts, because of their nature and quality and the circumstances of their commission, may be deemed sufficient to render the corporation liable to suit.” (citations omitted)).

    [43].   The Court adopted this terminology in Helicopteros Nacionales de Columbia, S.A. v. Hall (Helicol), 466 U.S. 408, 414 n.8 (1984), based on an influential article by Professors Arthur von Mehren and Donald Trautman: Jurisdiction to Adjudicate: A Suggested Analysis, 79 Harv. L. Rev. 1121, 1144–64 (1966).

    [44].   Helicol, 466 U.S. at 414 n.9.

    [45].   Goodyear Dunlop Tires Operations, S.A. v. Brown, 131 S. Ct. 2846, 2854 (2011) (quoting Twitchell, Myth, supra note 4, at 628).

    [46].   Hanson v. Denckla, 357 U.S. 235 (1958).  “[I]t is essential in each case that there be some act by which the defendant purposefully avails itself of the privilege of conducting activities within the forum State, thus invoking the benefits and protections of its laws.” Id.at 253.

    [47].   444 U.S. 286 (1980).

    [48].   Id. at 291–92; see Richard D. Freer, Personal Jurisdiction in the Twenty-First Century: The Ironic Legacy of Justice Brennan, 63 S.C. L. Rev. 551, 565 (2012) (observing that World-Wide Volkswagen “brought clarity” on several fronts, including that “the International Shoe test consists of two parts: contact and fairness”); see also Adam N. Steinman, The Lay of the Land: Examining the Three Opinions in J. McIntyre Machinery, Ltd. v. Nicastro, 63 S.C. L. Rev. 481, 485 (2012) (concluding that World-Wide Volkswagen “presaged a two-step approach to personal jurisdiction that crystallized during the 1980s”).

    [49].   World-Wide Volkswagen, 444 U.S. at 292.

    [50].   Id.  I have reversed the order of the two functions, as originally stated by the Court.  The Court considers the sovereignty function to be the crucial first inquiry:

Even if the defendant would suffer minimal or no inconvenience from being forced to litigate before the tribunals of another State; even if the forum State has a strong interest in applying its law to the controversy; even if the forum State is the most convenient location for the litigation, the Due Process Clause, acting as an instrument of interstate federalism, may sometimes act to divest the State of its power to render a valid judgment.

Id. at 294 (citing Hanson, 357 U.S. at 251, 254).  Five years after World-Wide Volkswagen, the Court explained that the first “contacts” prong was the “constitutional touchstone.”  Burger King Corp. v. Rudzewicz, 471 U.S. 462, 474 (1985).

    [51].   World-Wide Volkswagen, 444 U.Sat 292 (citation omitted).

    [52].   342 U.S. 437 (1952).

    [53].   466 U.S. 408 (1984).

    [54].   Perkins, 342 U.S. at 447–49.

    [55].   Helicol, 466 U.S. at 416–18.

    [56].   Id.

    [57].   Goodyear Dunlop Tires Operations, S.A. v. Brown, 131 S. Ct 2846, 2852 (2011).

    [58].   Id. at 2856–57.

    [59].   Id. at 2857.

    [60].   See Feder, supra note 8, at 674–75 (noting the “striking paucity of theory” underlying the Court’s general personal jurisdiction cases).

    [61].   Int’l Shoe Co. v. Washington, 326 U.S. 310, 316 (1945) (internal quotation marks omitted).

    [62].   World-Wide Volkswagen Corp. v. Woodson, 444 U.S. 286, 291–92 (1980); see supra notes 48–51 and accompanying text

    [63].   See  World-Wide Volkswagen, 444 U.S. at 291–92.

    [64].   Id. at 292.

    [65].   See generally Freer, supra note 48 (discussing Justice Brennan’s views on personal jurisdiction).

    [66].   Hanson v. Denckla, 357 U.S. 235, 258–59 (           1958) (Black, J., dissenting) (arguing for jurisdiction in cases in which the forum state has a significant interest, unless jurisdiction would impose a “heavy and disproportionate burden on a nonresident defendant”).

    [67].   World-Wide Volkswagen, 444 U.S. at 299–300 (Brennan, J., dissenting).

    [68].   Goodyear did not add much to the underlying policy debate.  It was a unanimous decision in which the Court primarily applied standards for general personal jurisdiction rather than explore the policies underlying the standards.

    [69].   J. McIntyre Mach., Ltd. v. Nicastro, 131 S. Ct. 2780, 2786 (2011).

    [70].   Id.

    [71].   See id. at 2785, 2791, 2794.

    [72].   Id. at 2786.

    [73].   Id. at 2787.

    [74].   Id.

    [75].   Id. (citation omitted).

    [76].   Id. at 2788.

    [77].   Id. at 2789.

    [78].   Id. at 2787.

    [79].   “[T]he constitutional limits on a state court’s adjudicatory authority derive from considerations of due process, not state sovereignty.”  Id. at 2798 (Ginsburg, J., dissenting).

    [80].   “[I]nvocation of a fictitious consent, the Court has repeatedly said, is unnecessary and unhelpful.”  Id. at 2799 (citing Burger King v. Rudzewicz, 471 U.S. 462, 472 ( 1985)); McGee v. Int’l Life Ins. Co., 355 U.S. 220, 222 (1957)); see also Steinman, supra note 48, at 497 (characterizing Justice Kennedy’s submission theory as a “long-discarded framework” of implied consent).

    [81].   McIntyre, 131 S. Ct. at 2800 (Ginsburg, J., dissenting).

    [82].   She followed her statement of “reason and fairness” with a litany of questions laden with convenience concerns:

The modern approach to jurisdiction over corporations and other legal entities, ushered in by International Shoe, gave prime place to reason and fairness.  Is it not fair and reasonable, given the mode of trading of which this case is an example, to require the international seller to defend at the place its products cause injury?  Do not litigational convenience and choice-of-law considerations point in that direction?  On what measure of reason and fairness can it be considered undue to require McIntyre UK to defend in New Jersey as an incident of its efforts to develop a market for its industrial machines anywhere and everywhere in the United States?  Is not the burden on McIntyre UK to defend in New Jersey fair, i.e., a reasonable cost of transacting business internationally, in comparison to the burden on Nicastro to go to Nottingham, England to gain recompense for an injury he sustained using McIntyre’s product at his workplace in Saddle Brook, New Jersey?

Id. at 2800–01 (Ginsburg, J., dissenting) (footnotes omitted); see also Steinman, supra note 48, at 507 (noting that Justice Ginsburg’s argument in McIntyresounded in both prongs of the World-Wide Volkswagen test).

    [83].   “Because the United States is a distinct sovereign, a defendant may in principle be subject to the jurisdiction of the courts of the United States but not of any particular State.”  McIntyre, 131 S. Ct. at 2789 (plurality opinion).  According to Justice Kennedy, this conclusion was a “corollary” of the principle that “personal jurisdiction requires a forum-by-forum, or sovereign-by-sovereign, analysis.”  Id.

    [84].   Justice Ginsburg stated:

The plurality suggests that the Due Process Clause might permit a federal district court in New Jersey, sitting in diversity and applying New Jersey law, to adjudicate McIntyre UK’s liability to Nicastro. . . .  In other words, McIntyre UK might be compelled to bear the burden of traveling to New Jersey and defending itself there under New Jersey’s product liability law, but would be entitled to federal adjudication of Nicastro’s state-law claim.  I see no basis in the Due Process Clause for such a curious limitation.

Id. at 2800 n.12 (Ginsburg, J., dissenting) (citation omitted).

    [85].   Int’l Shoe Co. v. Washington, 326 U.S. 310, 317 (1945) (quoting Hutchinson v. Chase & Gilbert, Inc., 45 F.2d 139, 141 (2d Cir. 1930)).

    [86].   Id.

    [87].   See supra notes 48–51 (discussing World-Wide Volkswagen Corp. v. Woodson, 444 U.S. 286 (1979)).

    [88].   World-Wide Volkswagen, 444 U.S. at 294 (quoting Int’l Shoe, 326 U.S. at 319).

    [89].   Int’l Shoe, 326 U.S. at 319.

    [90].   456 U.S. 694 (1982).

    [91].   Id. at 702.

    [92].   Id. at 702–03 & n.10.

    [93].   Brilmayer, How Contacts Countsupra note 3, at 85; see also Feder, supra note 8, at 685–88 (exploring the role of due process in limiting a state’s sovereignty in the context of personal jurisdiction).

    [94].   World-Wide Volkswagen Corp. v. Woodson, 444 U.S. 286, 297 (1980) (citing Int’l Shoe, 326 U.S. at 319Hanson v. Denckla, 357 U.S. 235, 253 (1958)).

    [95].   E.g., J. McIntyre Mach. Ltd. v. Nicastro, 131 S. Ct. 2780, 2783 (2011) (discussing the importance of purposeful availment to the finding of personal jurisdiction).

    [96].   See Steinman, supra note 48, at 492–93 (discussing the foreseeability elements of Justice Kennedy’s opinion in McIntyre and noting that the “idea is nothing new”).

    [97].   McIntyre, 131 S. Ct. at 2801. (Ginsburg, J., dissenting) (quoting Burger King v. Rudzewicz, 471 U.S. 462, 475 (1985)).

    [98].   World-Wide Volkswagen, 444 U.S. at 296–97.

    [99].   Id. at 297.

   [100].   Brilmayer, Related Contactssupra note 3, at 1462; see also Rose, supra note 5, at 1587 (noting that if all limits on personal jurisdiction were abolished, it would be “perfectly predictable and foreseeable” to be subject to suit in all places).

   [101].   Int’l Shoe Co. v. Washington, 326 U.S. 310, 319 (1945).

   [102].   See McIntyre, 131 S. Ct. at 2787–88 (discussing a party benefitting from the laws of a state as well as submitting itself to an otherwise foreign sovereign).

   [103].   Id. at 2800–01 (Ginsburg, J., dissenting) (“Is not the burden on McIntyre UK to defend in New Jersey fair, i.e., a reasonable cost of transacting business internationally, in comparison to the burden on Nicastro to go to Nottingham, England . . . .”).

   [104].   Compare id. at 2800, with id. at 2783–84, 2789 (plurality opinion).

   [105].   436 U.S. 84 (1978).

   [106].   Id. at 94.

   [107].   480 U.S. 102 (1987).

   [108].   Id. at 115.

   [109].   World-Wide Volkswagen Corp. v. Woodson, 444 U.S. 286, 292 (1980).

   [110].   See id. at 294; see also Steinman, supra note 48, at 507 (noting that plaintiff and state interest factors were secondary considerations under “the prevailing jurisdictional framework” set by World-Wide Volkswagen and that Justice Ginsburg’s approach in McIntyre “does not draw such a stark boundary between the two inquiries that crystallized during the 1980s”).

   [111].   E.g., O’Connor v. Shady Lane Hotel Co., 496 F.3d 312, 323 (3d Cir. 2007) (using quid pro quo and foreseeability policies to frame a test for relatedness); see also infra notes 216–22 and accompanying text (discussing O’Connor).

   [112].   Twitchell, Mythsupra note 4, at 635–36, 667; see also Twitchell, Doing Businesssupra note 4, at 172, 178–81 (describing the “[b]affling [r]ationale” of general jurisdiction based on “doing business”).

   [113].   Brilmayer et al., General Looksupra note 3, at 728–35; see also Cebik, supra note 5, at 33–36 (developing theories of general jurisdiction based on assumption that residence or domicile is a proper basis).

   [114].   Brilmayer et al., General Looksupra note 3, at 730–35.

   [115].   See infra Part IV.A.

   [116].   See text accompanying supra notes 41–44.

   [117].   Int’l Shoe Co. v. Washington, 326 U.S. 310, 319 (1945).

   [118].   See Rose, supra note 5, at 1561–64 (describing this policy concern as embodying several principles: “proportionality” of benefits and burdens, nonaffiliation—by which defendants can sever or avoid contact—and “consent/exchange”); Twitchell, Doing Businesssupra note 4, at 175 (“A quid-pro-quo justification works well for specific jurisdiction” because “the scope of the risk of being subject to jurisdiction in the state is proportionate to the scope of the defendant’s forum-related activities”).

   [119].   Int’l Shoe, 326 U.S. at 318.  To some extent, reciprocity overlaps with predictability.  See O’Connor v. Shady Lane Hotel Co., 496 F.3d 312, 322 (3d Cir. 2007) (“The animating principle behind the relatedness requirement is the notion of a tacit quid pro quo that makes litigation in the forum reasonably foreseeable.”); see also infra notes 216–22 and accompanying text (discussing O’Connor, 496 F.3d 312).

   [120].   Int’l Shoe, 326 U.S. at 318; see supra note 41 (quoting Int’l Shoe, 326 U.S. at 318).

   [121].   471 U.S. 462 (1985).

   [122].   Id. at 472 (emphasis added) (quoting Helicopteros Nacionales de Colombia, S.A. v. Hall (Helicol), 466 U.S. 408, 414 (1985)).

   [123].   See uBID, Inc. v. Godaddy Grp., Inc., 623 F.3d 421, 429 (7th Cir. 2010) (quoting RAR, Inc., v. Turner Diesel, Ltd., 107 F.3d 1272, 1278 (7th Cir. 1997)) (arguing that relatedness helps give people “confidence that ‘transactions in one context will not come back to haunt them unexpectedly in another’”).

   [124].   Oldfield v. Pueblo De Bahia Lora, S.A., 558 F.3d 1210, 1223 (11th Cir. 2009) (“[F]oreseeability constitutes a necessary ingredient of the relatedness inquiry.”).

   [125].   World-Wide Volkswagen v. Woodson, 444 U.S. 286, 291–93 (1980).

   [126].   J. McIntyre Mach.         Ltd. v. Nicastro, 131 S. Ct. 2780, 2787 (2011).

   [127].   See Brilmayer, How Contacts Countsupra note 3, at 86 (“[T]he most convincing justification [for a related standard] is the State’s right to regulate activities occurring within the State.”).

   [128].   Id. (arguing that if a test of substantive relevance is adopted, then state attempts at regulation of non-dispute-related activities “would be either arbitrary and capricious or discriminatory”).

   [129].   Professor Brilmayer uses a variety of terms to connote this standard, including “insider.”  Id. at 86–87.

   [130].   See, e.g.McIntyre, 131 S. Ct. at 2804 (Ginsburg, J., dissenting) (arguing that specific jurisdiction considers the “litigational convenience and the respective situations of the parties” in order to “determine when it is appropriate to subject a defendant to trial in the plaintiff”s community”; Burger King Corp. v. Rudzewicz, 471 U.S. 462, 476–78 (1985) (stating that preventing great inconvenience to the defendant and providing the plaintiff with a convenient forum in which to litigate his claims are both factors in establishing specific jurisdiction).

   [131].   See supra notes 50–51 and accompanying text.

   [132].   Int’l Shoe Co. v. Washington, 326 U.S. 310, 317–18 (1945); see supra notes 39–42 (quoting Int’l Shoe, 326 U.S. at 317-18).

   [133].   Helicopteros Nacionales de Columbia, S.A. v. Hall (Helicol), 466 U.S. 408, 414 nn.8–9 (1985); see supra note 43 (noting adoption of the terminology).

   [134].   Helicol, 466 U.S. at 415 n.10.

   [135].   Id.

   [136].   Id. at 415–16 n.10.

   [137].   Some judicial opinions addressing relatedness are in the context of the local long-arm statute, but these inquiries usually, though not always, merge into the constitutional issue of relatedness.  See, e.g., Nowak v. Tak How Invs., Ltd., 94 F.3d 708, 713–14 (1st Cir. 1996) (addressing whether the court’s prior opinions were constructions of long-arm statutory or constitutional requirements of relatedness); infra notes 223–27 (discussing Nowak, 94 F.3d at 711, 716).

   [138].   897 F.2d 377 (9th Cir. 1990), rev’d on other grounds, 499 U.S. 585 (1991); see infra text accompanying notes 148–50 (discussing Supreme Court ruling).

   [139].   Shute, 897 F.2d. at 379.

   [140].   Id. at 381; see infra Part IV.D.2 (discussing this aspect of the extent of contacts factor).

   [141].   Shute, 897 F.2d at 380–81.

   [142].   Id. at 381–83.

   [143].   Id. at 383.

   [144].   Id.       

   [145].   Id. at 385–86.

   [146].   Id.

   [147].   Id. at 386.

   [148].   499 U.S. 585, 589 (1991).

   [149].   See Proceedings Before the Supreme Court of the United States at 2–11, 22–36, Carnival Cruise, 499 U.S. 585 (1991) (No. 89-1647), 1991 WL 636293, at *3–11, *22–26 (oral argument concerning relationship issue).

   [150].   Carnival Cruise, 499 U.S. at 589 (“Because we find the forum-selection clause to be dispositive of this question, we need not consider [the relatedness issue].”).

   [151].   Phillips Exeter Acad. v. Howard Phillips Fund, Inc., 196 F.3d 284, 289 (1st Cir. 1999).

   [152].   Avocent Huntsville Corp. v. Aten Int’l Co., 552 F.3d 1324, 1330, 1337 (Fed. Cir. 2008) (quoting Inamed Corp. v. Kuzmak, 249 F.3d 1356, 1362 (2001)) (internal citations omitted).

   [153].   Id. at 1336.

   [154].   See generally Brilmayer, How Contacts Countsupra note 3; Brilmayer, Related Contacts, supra note 3.

   [155].   Brilmayer, Related Contacts, supra note 3, at 1455.

   [156].   Brilmayer, How Contacts Countsupra note 3, at 82.

   [157].   See, e.g., Shoppers Food Warehouse v. Moreno, 746 A.2d 320, 333 (D.C. 2000) (en banc) (“These tests have sometimes been described as one test: substantive relevance/proximate cause.”); see also Maloney, supra note 5, at 1282–83 (characterizing the proximate cause and substantive relevance tests as the same).

   [158].   See, e.g., Rhodes, supra note 5, at 886–90 (proposing a three-prong test for general jurisdiction that would ask first whether the defendant’s forum activities are analogous to the in-state activities of a forum domiciliary); Rose, supra note 5, at 1589 (arguing for a substantive relevance test with two exceptions, including a similarity test in product cases); Simard, Hybrid Jurisdictionsupra note 5, at 599 (arguing that jurisdiction should exist if the defendant has forum contacts that are similar to those underlying the plaintiff’s claim).

   [159].   See Moreno, 746 A.2d at 334–35  (surveying cases applying broad, noncausation tests).

   [160].   See O’Connor v. Sandy Lane Hotel Co., 496 F.3d 312, 319 (3d Cir. 2007) (noting that noncausation tests require a “substantial connection” or “discernible relationship” between the contacts and the claim, but, “[u]nlike the but-for test, causation is of no special importance”).

   [161].   Twitchell, Mythsupra note 4, at 660.

   [162].   Id. at 660–61.

   [163].   Helicopteros Nacionales de Colombia, S.A. v. Hall (Helicol), 466 U.S. 408, 425 (1984) (Brennan, J. dissenting).

   [164].   Id. at 426.

   [165].   Id. at 425.

   [166].   See infra Part III.C.1.

   [167].   See Twitchell, Mythsupra note 4, at 661 (arguing that jurisdiction over Audi in World-Wide Volkswagen was justified on product similarity, not extent of contacts).

   [168].   World-Wide Volkswagen Corp. v. Woodson, 444 U.S. 286, 288 (1980); see infra Part III.C.1 (discussing the role of injury under relatedness tests).

   [169].   World-Wide Volkswagen, 444 U.S. at 297.

   [170].   Audi did not contest jurisdiction.  Id. at 288 n.3.

   [171].   This hypothetical presents a question under a hybrid theory, which I discuss infra Part IV.D.

   [172].   433 U.S. 186 (1977).

   [173].   Id. at 212.

   [174].   Id. at 209; see supra Part I.A (discussing Pennoyer v. Neff, 95 U.S. 714 overruled in part by Shaffer, 433 U.S. 186).

   [175].   Shaffer, 433 U.S. at 204.

   [176].   Id. at 207–09.

   [177].   Id. at 189–90.  The action charged that the defendants violated their duties to Greyhound by causing the company to be held liable for civil damages in excess of $13 million and a large criminal fine in antitrust suits.  Id. at 190 & n.2.

   [178].   Id. at 191–92.  Delaware law provided that Delaware was the physical location of stock issued by Delaware corporations and that shares of stock could be sequestered as a means of asserting jurisdiction over absent defendants.  Id. at 193–94.

   [179].   Id. at 213.

   [180].   Perkins v. Benguet Consol. Mining Co., 342 U.S. 437, 438 (1952).

   [181].   Id. at 439.

   [182].   See Borchers, supra note 5, at 124 (describing Perkins and stating that “one can now easily imagine an argument that the corporation’s Ohio activity . . . as related to the claims in the case”).

   [183].   Perkins, 342 U.S. at 447–48.

   [184].   Id. at 448–49.

   [185].   See supra notes 163–65 and accompanying text.

   [186].   Helicopteros Nacionales de Columbia, S.A. v. Hall (Helicol), 466 U.S. 408, 426 (1984) (Brennan, J., dissenting).

   [187].   Id. at 410–11 (majority opinion); see also id. at 426 (Brennan, J., dissenting) (arguing that the “negotiations that took place in Texas led to the contract in which Helicol agreed to provide the precise transportation services that were begin used at the time of the crash”).

   [188].   Id. at 426 (“[T]he helicopter involved in the crash was purchased by Helicol in Texas, and the pilot whose negligence was alleged to have caused the crash was actually trained in Texas.”).

   [189].   Goodyear Dunlop Tires Operations, S.A. v. Brown, 131 S. Ct. 2846, 2851 (2011).

   [190].   See Pervasive Software Inc. v. Lexware GMBH & Co. KG, No. 11-50097, 2012 WL 2948543, at *11–12 (5th Cir. July 20, 2012) (rejecting personal jurisdiction based on the defendant’s website sales to other forum consumers).

   [191].   Goodyear, 131 S. Ct. at 2852 (“[T]he type of tire involved in the accident . . . was never distributed in North Carolina” and defendants instead sold in North Carolina “typically custom ordered to equip specialty vehicles such as cement mixers, waste haulers, and boat and horse trailers.”).

   [192].   Brilmayer, Related Contactssupra note 3, at 1460.

   [193].   Id. at 1459–60.

   [194].   Goodyear, 131 S. Ct. at 2856.

   [195].   Cf. BMW of N. Am. v. Gore, 517 U.S. 559, 572–73 (1996) (invalidating a punitive damages award that punished extraterritorial conduct that was lawful where it occurred and did not harm forum citizens).

   [196].   See Brilmayer, Related Contactssupra note 3, at 1461 (arguing that a similarity test would not promote “either litigational or party convenience”).

   [197].   Nowak v. Tak How Invs., Ltd., 94 F.3d 708, 714 (1st Cir. 1996); see infra notes 223–27 and accompanying text (discussing Nowak, 94 F.3d at 711, 716); see also Licciardello v. Lovelady, 544 F.3d 1280, 1285 n.3 (11th Cir. 2008) (“[I]t is not enough that there be some similarity between the activities that connect the defendant to the forum and the plaintiff’s claim.”); Seymour v. Parke, Davis & Co., 423 F.2d 584, 587 (1st Cir. 1970) (holding that a New Hampshire court could not assert jurisdiction over a drug maker in a product liability claim brought by a Massachusetts consumer of drugs purchased in Massachusetts, even though the defendant advertised and solicited orders for the same drug in New Hampshire).

   [198].   World-Wide Volkswagen Corp. v. Woodson, 444 U.S. 286, 288 (1980).

   [199].   Asahi Metal Indus. Co. v. Superior Court, 480 U.S. 102, 105–06 (1987).

   [200].   J. McIntyre Mach., Ltd. v. Nicastro, 131 S. Ct. 2780, 2786 (2011).

   [201].   465 U.S. 770, 776–77 (1984).

   [202].   465 U.S. 783, 789–90 (1984).

   [203].   Burger King Corp. v. Rudzewicz, 471 U.S. 462, 480 (1985) (“[T]he defendant’s refusal to make the contractually required payment in Miami, and his continued use of Burger King’s trademarks and confidential business information after his termination, caused foreseeable injury to the corporation in Florida.”).

   [204].   Justice Ginsburg in McIntyre stated that “the State in which the injury occurred would seem most suitable for litigation of a products liability tort claim.” McIntyre, 131 S. Ct. at 2798 (Ginsburg, J., dissenting).  That the claim is related does not mean that the place of injury is a permissible forum.  The case must pass the purposeful availment test.

   [205].   Cf. Shute v. Carnival Cruise Lines Inc., 897 F.2d 377, 385 (9th Cir. 1990) (pondering whether the proximate cause test would “compel the conclusion that [product] claims arise from negligence in manufacturing and design, rather than from forum-related activity”), rev’d on other grounds 499 U.S. 585 (1991); see also supra notes 138–49 and accompanying text (discussing Shute, 897 F.2d 377).

   [206].   See Brilmayer, Related Contactssupra note 3, at 1453–58 (listing injury as a substantively relevant event).

   [207].   Id. (describing application of the substantive relevance test and emphasizing that it is met by the occurrence of a single event).

   [208].   Goodyear Dunlop Tires Operations, S.A. v. Brown,131 S. Ct. 2846, 2851 (2011); see supra note 189 and accompanying text (quoting Goodyear, 131 S. Ct. at 2851).

   [209].   Professor Brilmayer gave the example of a car accident case in which the defendant’s act of driving through the forum state is a but-for cause, even though the trip originated elsewhere and the accident occurred in another state. Brilmayer, Related Contactssupra note 3, at 1445–46; see Brilmayer, How Contacts Count,supra note 3, at 83–84 (California case variation).  Professor Brilmayer still argues that but-for causation is not a proper jurisdictional test.  See Brilmayer & Smith,supra note 8, at 628 (noting the “undesirable consequence” of “causality in the strict, but-for sense”).

   [210].   uBID, Inc. v. GoDaddy Grp., Inc., 623 F.3d 421, 430 (7th Cir. 2010) (arguing that but-for causation would be “vastly overinclusive” and that the “tacit quid pro quo would break down”).

   [211].   Nowak v. Tak How Invs., Ltd., 94 F.3d. 708, 715 (1st Cir. 1996); see also Peter Hay et al., Conflict of Laws 407 (5th ed. 2010) (arguing that the “‘but for’ test is so potentially broad as to collapse the distinction between specific and general jurisdiction” and the “mere fact that the contact ultimately led to other events that produced the dispute . . . is not sufficient to qualify it as related”).

   [212].   Shute v. Carnival Cruise Lines, Inc., 897 F.2d 377, 385 (9th Cir. 1990), rev’d on other grounds, 499 U.S. 585 (1991).

   [213].   Id.

   [214].   Nowak, 94 F.3d at 715.

   [215].   Shute, 897 F.2d at 383–85; see supra notes 143–47 (discussing the Ninth Circuit’s analysis of other circuits approaches).

   [216].   O’Connor v. Sandy Lane Hotel Co., 496 F.3d 312, 324 (3d Cir. 2007).

   [217].   Id. at 315–16.

   [218].   Id. at 323–25.

   [219].   Id. at 323 (citations omitted).

   [220].   Id. at 324 (citations omitted).

   [221].   Id. at 322 (noting that the but-for test “at least makes an attempt to preserve the distinction between general and specific jurisdiction” and “provides a useful starting point for the relatedness inquiry”).

   [222].   Id. at 323–24 (noting that the defendant, through its Pennsylvania contacts, formed a contact for spa services and “acquired certain rights” and “accompanying obligations”).

   [223].   94 F.3d 708 (1st Cir. 1996).

   [224].   See Shute v. Carnival Cruise Lines, Inc., 897 F.2d 377, 383 (1988), rev’d on other grounds, 499 U.S. 585 (1991); supra note 211.

   [225].   Nowak, 94 F.3d at 711.

   [226].   Id.

   [227].   Id. at 716.

   [228].   See O’Connor v. Sandy Lane Hotel Co., 496 F.3d 312, 323–24 (3d Cir. 2007) (discussing “the reciprocity principle” of the meaningful link test).

   [229].   The Ninth Circuit rejected a tort-contract distinction in Shute:

Logically, there is no reason why a tort cannot grow out of a contractual contact.  In a case like this, a contractual contact is a “but for” causative factor for the tort since it brought the parties within tortuous “striking distance” of one another.  While the relationship between a tort suit and a contractual contract is certainly more tenuous than when a tort suit arises from a tort contact, that only goes to whether the contact is by itself sufficient for due process, not whether the suit arises from the contract.

Shute, 897 F.2d at 385 (citing Prejean v. Sonatrech Inc., 652 F.2d 1260, 1270 n.21 (5th Cir. 1981)).

   [230].   See O’Connor, 496 F.3d at 319 & n.7 (describing cases that apply “a purer, more rigid” version of the proximate cause test).

   [231].   558 F.3d 1210 (11th Cir. 2009).

   [232].   Id. at 1214.

   [233].   Id.

   [234].   Id. at 1223.

   [235].   Id. at 1223–24.

   [236].   See text accompanying supra note 64 (discussing the second prong).

   [237].   See supra notes 216–22 (discussing O’Connor v. Sandy Lane Hotel Co., 496 F.3d 312 (3d Cir. 2007)).

   [238].   Cf. Lingo v. Harrah’s Entm’t, Inc., No. 10–7032, 2011 WL 2621396, at *4 (E.D. Pa. July 1, 2011) (distinguishing O’Connor, 496 F.3d 312, which arose out of a contract, and finding that a Nevada hotel advertisement mailed to Pennsylvania was not sufficiently related to plaintiff’s injury in Nevada).

   [239].   Int’l Shoe Co. v. Washington, 326 U.S. 310, 319 (1945).

   [240].   See generally Robert C. Casad & William B. RichmanJurisdiction in Civil Actions, § 2-5[3][a] (3d ed. 1998); Eugene F. Scoles et al., Conflict of Laws 348–52 (3d ed. 2000) (discussing “continuous and systematic” contacts).

   [241].   Goodyear Dunlop Tires Operations, S.A. v. Brown, 131 S. Ct. 2846, 2853–54 (2011).

   [242].   Perkins v. Benguet Consol. Mining Co., 342 U.S. 437, 447–48 (1952).

   [243].   Id. at 445.

   [244].   Id. at 446.

   [245].   Id. at 448.

   [246].   Helicopteros Nacionales de Colombia, S.A. v. Hall (Helicol), 466 U.S. 408 (1985).

   [247].   Id. at 409–10.

   [248].   Id. at 410–12.

   [249].   Id. at 417–19.

   [250].   Id. at 416.

   [251].   See Scoles et al., supra note 240, at 350 (stating that Perkins and Helicol provided “some guidance at the margins” and that there are “literally infinite numbers of factual permutations falling between the two cases”).

   [252].   Goodyear Dunlop Tires Operations, S.A. v. Brown, 131 S. Ct. 2846, 2851 (2011).

   [253].   Goodyear USA, the parent company, also was a named defendant, but it did not contest North Carolina’s jurisdiction over it.  Id. at 2852.  The Court declined to consider whether all Goodyear defendants should be treated as a “single enterprise” because the plaintiffs “forfeited” this contention by not raising it in the lower court.  Id. at 2857.

   [254].   Id. at 2852 (“tens of thousands out of tens of millions”).

   [255].   Id. at 2851 (“A connection so limited between the forum and the foreign corporation, we hold, is an inadequate basis for the exercise of general jurisdiction.  Such a connection does not establish the ‘continuous and systematic’ affiliation necessary to empower North Carolina courts to entertain claims unrelated to the foreign corporation’s contacts with the State.”).  A key aspect of the Court’s analysis was its rejection of the lower court’s misapplication of “stream of commerce” theory, a concept used in specific jurisdiction cases to test purposeful availment, to justify its exercise of general jurisdiction over the defendants:

The North Carolina court’s stream-of-commerce analysis elided the essential difference between case-specific and all-purpose (general) jurisdiction.  Flow of a manufacturer’s products into the forum . . . may bolster an affiliation germane to specific jurisdiction. . . .  But ties serving to bolster the exercise of specific jurisdiction do not warrant a determination that, based on those ties, the forum has general jurisdiction over a defendant.

Id. at 2855 (citations omitted).

   [256].   Id. at 2856 (quoting Int’l Shoe Co. v. Washington, 326 U.S. 310, 318 (1945)).

   [257].   See supra note 240.

   [258].   Int’l Shoe, 326 U.S. at 317–18.

   [259].   Goodyear, 131 S. Ct. at 2856 (citation omitted).

   [260].   Id. at 2857.

   [261].   Id. at 2853–54 (citing Brilmayer, Related Contactssupra note 3, at 728).  Justice Ginsburg, the author of the opinion in Goodyear, again used the at-home standard in her opinion in McIntyre when describing general personal jurisdiction.  Id. at 2797 (Ginsburg, J., dissenting) (“[A]ll agree, McIntyre UK surely is not subject to general (all-purpose) jurisdiction in New Jersey courts, for that foreign-country corporation is hardly ‘at home’ in New Jersey.”).

   [262].   Compare Perkins v. Benguet Consol. Mining Co., 342 U.S. 437, 447–48 (1952) (listing the defendant’s activities in Ohio), with Perkins v. Benguet Consol. Mining Co., 95 N.E. 2d 5, 7–11 (Ohio Ct. App. 1950) (per curiam) (indicating that the defendant’s principal place of business was not in Ohio), aff’d, 98 N.E. 2d 33 (Ohio 1951), cert. granted, 34 U.S. 808 (1951), vacated, 342 U.S. 437 (1952).

   [263].   Keeton v. Hustler Magazine, Inc., 465 U.S. 770, 779 n.11 (1984) (citing Perkins, 342 U.S. at 448).

   [264].   Helicopteros Nacionales de Colombia, S.A. v. Hall (Helicol), 466 U.S. 408, 415–16 (1984) (“We thus must explore the nature of Helicol’s contacts with the State of Texas to determine whether they constitute the kind of continuous and systematic general business contacts the Court found to exist in Perkins.”).

   [265].   Goodyear, 131 S. Ct. at 2856.

   [266].   See Cebik, supra note 5, at 35–36 (arguing that residents “look to the state for the enforcement of their rights and duties–if not through the courts then through the general administration of the laws”).

   [267].   See Brilmeyer et al., General Looksupra note 3, at 732.

   [268].   World-Wide Volkswagen Corp. v. Woodson, 444 U.S. 286, 291–92, 294–98 (1980); see supra note 45.

   [269].   See generally Todd David Peterson, The Timing of Minimum Contacts After Goodyear and McIntyre, 80 Geo. Wash. L. Rev. 202 (2011) (discussing relevant timing of jurisdictional contacts).

   [270].   See Metro. Life Ins. Co. v. Robertson-Ceco Corp., 84 F.3d 560, 569–70 (2d Cir. 1996) (holding that the trial court erred in limiting its jurisdictional inquiry to the year that the suit was filed and explaining that a reasonable period for examining the defendant’s contacts might entail several years); Pac. Emp’rs Ins. Co. v. AXA Belgium, S.A., 785 F. Supp. 2d 457, 461, 468–69 (E.D. Pa. 2011) (applying general jurisdiction analysis of contacts over a nine-year period).

   [271].   Perkins v. Benguet Consol. Mining Co., 95 N.E. 2d 5, 6 (Ohio Ct. App. 1950) (noting that the defendant’s bank accounts in Ohio had been active for five years), aff’d, 98 N.E. 2d 33 (Ohio 1951), cert. granted, 34 U.S. 808 (1951), vacated, 342 U.S. 437 (1952).

   [272].   See Potts v. Dyncorp Int’l, LLC, 465 F. Supp. 2d 1254, 1258–59 (M.D. Ala. 2006) (stating that the individual defendant’s prior residency and contacts with Alabama were “no longer . . . relevant”).

   [273].   See Simard, Hybrid Jurisdictionsupra note 5, at 581–82 (discussing the timing difference); see also Peterson, supra note 269, at 204 (discussing the difference in timing between specific and general jurisdiction).

   [274].   See Metro. Life, 84 F.3d at 569 (allowing discovery for six years prior to filing suit); Birnberg v. Milk St. Residential Assoc., No. 02 C 978, 2002 WL 1162848, at *4 (N.D. Ill. May 24, 2002) (rejecting the plaintiff’s request for jurisdictional discovery over nineteen years but permitting discovery for a five-year period).

   [275].   See Patrick J. Borchers, J. McIntyre Machinery, Goodyear, and the Incoherence of the Minimum Contacts Test, 44 Creighton L. Rev. 1245, 1268 (2010) (noting the “pressing” question of “whether contacts-based general jurisdiction applies at all to individuals”).

   [276].   495 U.S. 604 (1990).

   [277].   Id. at 610 n.1 (citations omitted).

   [278].   Some assertions of jurisdiction over corporations, however, were specific based on their forum state activities.  See supra Part I.A (discussing uncertain jurisdictional repercussions of corporate in-state activity in the Pennoyer era).

   [279].   311 U.S. 457 (1940).

   [280].   Id. at 462.

   [281].   See Burger King Corp. v. Rudzewicz, 471 U.S. 462, 471–73 (1985) (applying minimum contacts analysis to an out-of-state, natural person defendant); Kulko v. Superior Court, 436 U.S. 84, 96–97 (1978) (assessing the nature of an individual defendant’s activities in California in a family law dispute).

   [282].   Some scholars characterize the general jurisdiction analysis as distinct from “minimum contacts” analysis.  See, e.g., Thomas D. Rowe, Jr., Beyond Minimum Contacts: Other Bases for Jurisdictionin Civil Procedure (3d ed. 2012) (Chapter Nine, Section D) (placing the topics of general jurisdiction and the minimum contacts analysis into separate chapters).  Compare World-Wide Volkswagen Corp. v. Woodson, 444 U.S. 286, 294 (1980) (establishing what some observers call the first prong of the World-Wide Volkswagen test—i.e., the “minimum contacts” prong), with Int’l Shoe Co. v. Washington, 326 U.S. 310, 316–17 (1945) (articulating general jurisdiction as part of its minimum contacts test), and Goodyear Dunlop Tires Operations, S.A. v. Brown, 131 S. Ct. 2846, 2853–54 (2011) (framing general jurisdiction as part of the minimum contacts analysis).

   [283].   Goodyear, 131 S. Ct. at 2854–55.

   [284].   J. McIntyre Mach., Ltd. v. Nicastro, 131 S. Ct. 2780, 2787 (2011).

   [285].   Burnham v. Superior Court, 495 U.S. 604, 615 (1990).

   [286].   Goodyear, 131 S. Ct. at 2853; see also McIntyre, 131 S. Ct. at 2787 (listing citizenship and domicile as examples of general jurisdiction over natural persons).

   [287].   See Giraldo v. Drummond Co., No. 2:09-CV-1041-RDP, 2012 WL 2358306, at *7 (N.D. Ala. June 20, 2012) (rejecting discovery as to an individual defendant’s visits to Alabama—potentially as many as sixty-one visits in seven years—because, even if true, those visits would not subject the defendant to general jurisdiction in Alabama under the Goodyear standard); Red Strokes Entm’t, Inc. v. Sanderson, No. 3:12-CV-0008, 2012 WL 1514892, at *6–7 (M.D. Tenn. May 1, 2012) (rejecting general jurisdiction in Tennessee over a California resident who regularly transacted entertainment business in Nashville).

   [288].   Brilmayer et al., General Look, supra note 3, at 729.

   [289].   Milliken v. Meyer, 311 U.S. 457, 462 (1940).

   [290].   Int’l Shoe Co. v. Washington, 326 U.S. 310, 316 (1945) (quoting Milliken, 311 U.S. at 463).

   [291].   Justice Scalia’s opinion in Burnham relied extensively on the fact that in-state personal service was an established form of personal jurisdiction at the time of the adoption of the Fourteenth Amendment.  Burnham v. Superior Court, 495 U.S. 604, 610–11 (1990).

   [292].   In Burnham, only three justices joined Justice Scalia’s opinion.  Id. at 607.

   [293].   Id. at 620–21; see supra notes 175–79 (discussing Shaffer v. Heitner, 433 U.S. 186 (1977)).

   [294].   See Scoles et al., supra note 240, at 251.

   [295].   489 F.2d 1396 (5th Cir. 1974).

   [296].   See, e.g., Joseph Glannon et al., Civil Procedure: A Coursebook 51 (2011); Richard L. Marcus et al., Civil Procedure: A Modern Approach 851 (5th ed. 2009).

   [297].   Mas, 489 F.2d at 1400

   [298].   Id.

   [299].   Professor Glannon’s casebook juxtaposes the Mas case with a similar case in which the court found that the student had changed her domicile.  SeeGlannon, supra note 296, at 42 (reprinting Gordon v. Steele, 376 F. Supp. 575 (W.D. Pa. 1974)).

   [300].   See supra notes 72–75 (discussing Justice Kennedy’s submission theory).

   [301].   Goodyear Dunlop Tires Operations, S.A. v. Brown, 131 S. Ct. 2846, 2854 (2011).

   [302].   Id. at 2857.

   [303].   Sarah Cebik argued for these as the only bases for general jurisdiction:

In general, three circumstances exist in which a forum would be able to assert jurisdiction over a defendant corporation under the minimum contacts test which looks to the limits of state interests in the defendant.  First, the defendant’s state of incorporation will have an interest in the defendant.  Second, the state in which the defendant shapes is corporate policy will have the required minimum contacts.  Finally, the state in which the defendant conducts the core activities of the corporation will have an interest in exercising jurisdiction.  A state does not have an interest in a defendant merely because it registers to do business in the state or is ‘doing business’ there.

Cebik, supra note 5, at 36.

   [304].   Goodyear, 131 S. Ct. at 2853–54.

   [305].   See supra note 16 and accompanying text.

   [306].   See Brilmayer et al., General Looksupra note 3, at 733 (outlining the policy reasons why the state of incorporation is the paradigm basis for general jurisdiction and stating that “the decision to incorporate in a particular state provides a more powerful basis for adjudicatory jurisdiction than does domicile”).

   [307].   See Cebik, supra note 5, at 36–37 (“The state [of incorporation] provides a registered corporation the full array of rights and duties necessary to the corporate existence: the state provides a set of rules which structure corporate governance, the state allows the corporation to issue stock, and the state established the limited liability of investors which is the hallmark of corporations.”).

   [308].   Professor Brilmayer argues that the incorporation process and papers themselves give this notice.  Brilmayer et al., General Looksupra note 3, at 733–34.

   [309].   28 U.S.C. § 1332(c)(1) (2006).

   [310].   130 S.Ct. 1181 (2010).

   [311].   Id. at 1192.

   [312].   Compare Feder, supra note 8, at 692 n.108 (arguing that the Hertz principal place of business standard satisfies the Goodyear at-home standard), withStein, supra note 8, at 546 (urging caution in finding multiple at-home states but rejecting the Hertz test as the single standard for general personal jurisdiction).

   [313].   Hertz, 130 S. Ct. at 1194.

   [314].   Id.

   [315].   Id.

   [316].   Id. at 1186–87.

   [317].   Compare Wood, supra note 5, at 614–15 (arguing that general jurisdiction “should not be found in every state where a defendant has a significant amount of business,” but instead should be “confined to those few places that can legitimately be viewed as . . . [a] corporation’s base of operations”), with Brilmayer et al.,General Look, supra note 3, at 741–43 (arguing that place of incorporation and principal place of business are not the only legitimate places for general jurisdiction and that “the nonunique relationship of continuous and systematic activities . . . satisfies the reciprocal benefits and burdens rationale as well as do unique affiliations”).

   [318].   See Andrews, supra note 5.

   [319].   Goodyear Dunlop Tires Operations, S.A. v. Brown, 131 S. Ct. 2846, 2856–57 (2011); see Charles W. Rhodes, Nineteenth Century Personal Jurisdiction Doctrine in a Twenty-First Century World, 64 Fla. L. Rev. 387, 429 n.258 (2012) (noting that Goodyear caused him to “rethink” his position that a corporation could be subject to general jurisdiction by “by producing goods or services in the state”).

   [320].   See Peterson, supra note 269, at 214–18 (arguing that an “appropriate interpretation of Goodyear” would find general jurisdiction based on “some substantial volume of sales made directly into the forum state”).

   [321].   Keeton v. Hustler Magazine, Inc., 465 U.S. 770, 779 (1984).

   [322].   Keeton v. Hustler Magazine, Inc., 682 F.2d 33, 33 (1st Cir. 1982), rev’d and remanded, 465 U.S. 770 (1984).

   [323].   Scoles et al., supra note 240, at 351 (stating that courts “are severely divided as to whether substantial in-state sales” support general jurisdiction); see also16 James Wm. Moore et al., Moore’s Federal Practice ¶ 108.41[3] (3rd ed. 2012) (stating that “lower courts have evinced a reluctance to assert general jurisdiction over . . . foreign corporations even where the contacts with the forum are quite extensive”).

   [324].   818 F.2d 370 (5th Cir. 1987).

   [325].   Id. at 372–73.  The court relied in part on the fact that the defendant structured the sales to occur in its home state of Kansas in an attempt to shield itself from the general jurisdiction of other states.  Id. at 375–76 (stating that the defendant “has not afforded itself the benefits and protections of the laws of Texas, but instead has calculatedly avoided them”).

   [326].   Shute v. Carnival Cruise Lines, Inc., 897 F.2d 377, 381 (9th Cir. 1988), reversed on other ground, 499 U.S. 585 (1991); see supra notes 138–46 (discussingShute, 897 F.2d 377).

   [327].   See, e.g., Metro. Life Ins. Co. v. Robertson-CeCo Corp., 84 F.3d 560, 566, 570 (2d Cir. 1996) (finding general jurisdiction where the defendant had less than one percent of its total sales in the forum); Ex Parte Newco Mfg. Co., 481 So. 2d 867, 869 (Ala. 1985) (basing general jurisdiction on sales ranging only from $65,000 to $85,000 over a five-year period, even though the defendant structured its sales to occur either through independent agents or through mail from its home state of Missouri); see also Ex Parte United Bhd. of Carpenters, 688 So. 2d 246, 251–52 (Ala. 1997) (reaffirming Newco and permitting general jurisdiction over the defendant union based on ten local affiliates with Alabama membership constituting only one half of one percent of total membership).

   [328].   Brilmayer et al., General Looksupra note 3, at 741–42.

   [329].   Id.

   [330].   Twitchell, Doing Businesssupra note 4, at 187–89.

   [331].   See Feder, supra note 8, at 678–84 (analyzing “doing business” as a basis for general jurisdiction after Goodyear); Rhodes, supra note 319, at 430 (discussing Goodyear and concluding that “[t]he long-standing fiction that ‘doing business’ creates corporate ‘presence’ and supports a corporation’s amenability to general jurisdiction has been vanquished”); Stein, supra note 8, at 547–48 (rejecting registration as a basis for general jurisdiction).

   [332].   444 U.S. 320 (1980).

   [333].   Id. at 330.

   [334].   Goodyear Dunlop Tires Operations, S.A. v. Brown, 131 S. Ct. 2846, 2852 (2011).  The Court continued with a litany of contacts that the defendants did not have—“no place of business, employees, or bank accounts in the State,” no manufacturing, no advertising, and no solicitation of business in North Carolina.  Id.

   [335].   See supra Part I.A.

   [336].   One of Professor Twitchell’s principal objections to general jurisdiction based on “doing business” is its uncertainty and malleability. See generallyTwitchell, Doing Business, supra note 4.

   [337].   See supra Part I.A. (discussing “doing business” determinations before International Shoe).

   [338].   See Glannon, supra note 296, at 259–60; see also Peterson, supra note 269, at 259–60 (noting that before Goodyear, “most scholars” assumed that a company such as General Motors would be “subject to general jurisdiction in every state”).

   [339].   As I set out in Parts IV.C.1 and IV.C.2, a corporation can have more at-home states than literally one–its state of incorporation, and if different, its principal place of business.  Also, in a very few cases, the corporation might have two principal places of business.  However, for ease of reference, I will refer to a single place.

   [340].   Goodyear Dunlop Tires Operations, S.A. v. Brown, 131 S.Ct. 2846, 2856 (2011).

   [341].   Id.

   [342].   See Stein, supra note 5, at 758 (arguing that the test for general personal jurisdiction should be “whether the defendant has adopted the forum as its sovereign” and that the court should not ask about convenience but instead should ask whether the defendant has “for most other purposes treated the forum as its home, notwithstanding its domicile elsewhere”); Wood, supra note 5, at 614 (“The point of general jurisdiction theory is to permit suit in the defendant’s ‘home’—the one or two places where a person or entity has settled.”).

   [343].   See supra note 112 (quoting Professor Twitchell).  Other scholars point out that Professor Twitchell later modified her view to encompass “doing business” jurisdiction.  See Stein, supra note 8, at 532 n.45.  Professor Twitchell did announce a “change of heart,” but she still argued that “the best solution would be for the Supreme Court to recognize, and insist that . . . due process does not permit ‘general’ doing business jurisdiction unless the state has such significant ties with the forum that the court would feel equally justified in deciding a wholly-unrelated claim.”  Twitchell, Doing Businesssupra note 4, at 171, 213.  That conclusion is consistent with a narrow, single place view of general jurisdiction.

   [344].   See Andrews, supra note 5, at 1350–72 (discussing the uncertain validity of the doctrine of jurisdiction by necessity).

   [345].   Perkins v. Benguet Consol. Min. Co., 342 U.S. 437, 447–48 (1952).

   [346].   Helicopteros Nacionales de Colombia, S.A. v. Hall (Helicol), 466 U.S. 408, 419 n.13 (1984).

   [347].   Id. at 418–19.

   [348].   This would not be true for domestic U.S. corporations because they have at least a local state of incorporation.

   [349].   See Stein, supra note 8, at 537.

   [350].   Twitchell, Doing Business, supra note 4, at 175–76.

   [351].   Id.

   [352].   Id.

   [353].   See Stein, supra note 8, at 538, 542.

   [354].   E.g., Del. Code Ann. tit. 8, § 371(b) (2011); M.D. Code Ann., Corps. & Ass’ns § 7-202 (LexisNexis 2007).

   [355].   See supra Part I.A (discussing registration under the Pennoyer doctrine).

   [356].   I previously argued that this mistaken assumption is why so many corporate defendants fail to challenge personal jurisdiction in the states in which they are registered.  See Andrews, supra note 5, at 1331–32, 1360–67.  But see Borchers, supra note 275, at 1267 (arguing that, if Goodyear is read narrowly, it would make the parent corporation’s decision not to challenge jurisdiction “foolish” and that it is “unlikely” that the Court would have failed to affirm jurisdiction over Goodyear USA).

   [357].   See Matthew Kipp, Inferring Express Consent: The Paradox of Permitting Registration Statutes to Confer General Jurisdiction, 9 Rev. Litig. 1, 2 (1990) (collecting statutes and stating that “each state mandates that an agent be appointed” but that “most statutes fail to discuss the effects of appointment on the state’s jurisdiction over the foreign corporation”); see also In re Mid-Atlantic Toyota Antitrust Litig., 525 F. Supp. 1265, 1278 n.10 (D. Md. 1981), modified, 541 F.Supp. 62 (D. Md. 2000) (“[C]onsent statutes are largely obsolete and serve only to confuse matters . . . .”); William L. Walker, Foreign Corporation Laws: A Current Account, 47 N.C. L. Rev. 733, 734–38 (1969) (arguing that the requirement that corporations appoint local agents has no jurisdictional purpose after International Shoe and that registration statutes “have encouraged inappropriate expansions of unlimited general jurisdiction and discouraged worthwhile analysis”).

   [358].   See Model Bus. Corp. Act Ann. § 15.03 (1998) (providing that an application for a certificate of authority to transact business in the state must set forth the name and address of the corporation’s registered agent in the state); see also id. § 15.10 (“The registered agent of a foreign corporation authorized to transact business in this state is the corporation’s agent for service of process, notice, or demand required or permitted by law to be served on the foreign corporation.”).  Very few states have modified their statutes to specify that they have no impact on a foreign corporation’s amenability to suit.  See, e.g., Fla. Stat. § 607.1501(4) (2007) (providing that the requirement of a certificate of authority “has no application to the question of whether any foreign corporation is subject to service of process and suit in this state”).

   [359].   See Freeman v. District Court, 1 P.3d 963, 968 (Nev. 2000) (“[T]he appointment of an agent to receive service of legal process pursuant to [the Nevada foreign insurance corporation registration statute] does not in itself subject the non-resident insurance company to the personal jurisdiction of Nevada courts.”); see also Wenche Siemer v. Learjet Acquisition Corp., 966 F.2d 179, 183 (5th Cir. 1992) (holding that the Texas registration statute may extend only jurisdiction that is otherwise “constitutionally permissible” under independent minimum contacts analysis).

   [360].   See Freeman Funeral Home Inc. v. Diamond S. Constructors, Inc., 266 So. 2d 794, 795–96 (Ala. Civ. App. 1972) (holding that “a statutory agent may be served with process only in cases where the cause of action arose in [Alabama]” because the Alabama foreign registration statute was “enacted to protect the citizens of the state as to causes of action arising within the state and resulting from the doing of business by foreign corporations in this state,” and thus a corporation’s consent to jurisdiction “is confined to transactions or causes of action arising in this state and not those arising in other states”); Gray Line Tours v. Reynolds Elec. & Eng’g Co., 238 Cal. Rptr. 419, 421 (Cal. Ct. App. 1987) (holding that a California statute requiring consent for service on an in-state agent did not confer jurisdiction on suits not arising out of business done in California).  See generally James wm. Moore et al, supra note 323, ¶ 108.41[4] (stating that some statutes are limited to specific jurisdiction and others are interpreted to confer only specific personal jurisdiction).

   [361].   See Casad & Richman, supra note 240, § 3-2[2][a] (surveying interpretations of statutes); Kipp, supra note 357, at 44 (“[O]nly a few states have registration statutes that expressly provide for the assertion of general jurisdiction.”).

   [362].   Allied-Signal Inc. v. Purex Indus., 576 A.2d 942, 944 (N.J. Super. Ct. App. Div. 1990) (applying Burnham and holding that service on the corporate defendant’s registered agent conferred general jurisdiction on unrelated claims).

   [363].   See Wenche Siemer, 966 F.2d at 182 (rejecting the argument that Burnham establishes that service on an in-state agent “automatically subjects the corporation to jurisdiction”); MBM Fisheries, Inc. v. Bollinger Mach. Shop Shipyard, Inc., 804 P.2d 627, 631 (Wash. Ct. App. 1991) (distinguishing Burnham and holding that in-state service on a corporate officer “cannot alone confer general jurisdiction”).  But see Michael H. Hoffheimer, General Personal Jurisdiction AfterGoodyear Dunlop Tires Operations, S.A. v. Brown, 60 Kan. L. Rev. 549, 600–01 (2012) (noting the possibility that Goodyear left open the question of personal jurisdiction through service on an official in-state agent).

   [364].   Burnham v. Superior Court, 495 U.S. 604, 610–11 & n.1 (1990); see supra note 293 (discussing this dictum in Burnham).

   [365].   See supra Part I.A (discussing corporate jurisdiction under Pennoyer).

   [366].   Riverside & Dan River Cotton Mills, Inc. v. Menefee, 237 U.S. 189, 195 (1915) (holding that service on a corporate director who is a forum resident is insufficient to confer jurisdiction); Goldey v. Morning News of New Haven, 156 U.S. 518, 522 (1895) (holding that service on the defendant’s president who was temporarily in forum was insufficient to confer jurisdiction).

   [367].   Int’l Shoe Co. v. Washington, 326 U.S. 310, 312, 320 (1945) (discussing service).

   [368].   Perkins v. Benquet Consol. Mining Co., 342 U.S. 437, 438–40, 445 (1952).  The Court stated that statutes requiring corporations to obtain a license and designate a statutory agent for service are not “conclusive” as to jurisdiction.  Id. at 445.

   [369].   Knowlton v. Allied Van Lines, Inc., 900 F.2d 1196, 1199 (8th Cir. 1990) (interpreting a Minnesota registration statute as conferring general jurisdiction and stating that “[o]ne of the most solidly established ways of giving such consent is to designate an agent for service of process within the State”).

   [370].   Ins. Corp. of Ireland, Ltd. v. Compagnie des Bauxites de Guinee, 456 U.S. 694, 703 (1982) (“Because the requirement of personal jurisdiction represents first of all an individual right, it can, like other such rights, be waived.”).

   [371].   See Brilmayer et al., General Looksupra note 3, at 755–60 (questioning consent to jurisdiction and stating that the “most formidable constitutional issue surrounding general jurisdiction by consent arises when consent derives from a statutorily required appointment rather than from contract”) (footnote omitted); see also Casad & Richman, supra note 240, § 3.2[2][a][ii] (stating that consent through registration statutes “may raise due process problems if the required consent is held to extend to causes of action unrelated to the state and to claims by persons having no connection with the state”); D. Craig Lewis, Jurisdiction over Foreign Corporations Based on Registration and Appointment of an Agent: An Unconstitutional Condition Perpetuated, 15 Del. J. Corp. L. 1, 7 (1990) (arguing that the doctrine of “unconstitutional conditions” bars states from using corporate registration statutes to exact consent not otherwise sufficient under minimum contacts analysis); Rhodes, supra note 319, at 443–44 (arguing that general jurisdiction based on corporate registration is “unfair” and that the issue is “ripe for invalidation by the Supreme Court”).

   [372].   Davis v. Farmer’s Co-Operative Equity Co., 262 U.S. 312, 316–18 (1923) (holding that the Dormant Commerce Clause forbade Minnesota from asserting jurisdiction and noting that the case resembled two cases in which the Court had previously upheld jurisdiction but stating that “in both cases the only constitutional objection asserted was violation of the due process clause”); see supra notes 33–34 (discussing Davis and related cases).

   [373].   Lee Scott Taylor, Note, Registration Statutes, Personal Jurisdiction, and the Problem of Predictability, 103 Colum. L. Rev. 1163, 1189 (2003) (noting that registration-consent statutes might be “obnoxious to the Commerce Clause”); T. Griffin Vincent, Comment, Toward a Better Analysis for General Jurisdiction Based on Appointment of Corporate Agents, 41 Baylor L. Rev. 461, 491–92 (1989) (exploring arguments and concluding that registration-consent may violate the Commerce Clause).

   [374].   486 U.S. 888, 889 (1988).

   [375].   Id. at 894–95 (“[A] designation with the Ohio Secretary of State of an agent for the service of process likely would have subjected [defendant] to the general jurisdiction of Ohio courts over transactions in which Ohio had no interest.”).

   [376].   Id. at 888–91 (“The statute [of limitation] is tolled . . . for any period that a person or corporation is not ‘present’ in the State.  To be present in Ohio, a foreign corporation must appoint an agent for service of process, which operates as consent to the general jurisdiction of the Ohio courts.”).

   [377].   Id. at 894–95.

   [378].   Some scholars have questioned why the Court did not independently condemn this aspect of the Ohio law as a matter of due process.  See Wendy Collins Perdue, Personal Jurisdiction and the Beetle in the Box, 32 B.C. L. Rev. 529, 550–51, 557–58 n.152 (1991) (analyzing Bendix and questioning why “none of the Justices seemed troubled by this extorted waiver of a constitutional right”).

   [379].   Bendix, 486 U.S. at 892–93 (citing World-Wide Volkswagen Corp. v. Woodson, 444 U.S. 286 (1980)).

   [380].   Id. at 893.

   [381].   Id. at 894–95.

   [382].   See Sternberg v. O’Neil, 550 A.2d 1105, 1112–14 (Del. 1988) (relying in part on Bendix to hold that registration-consent remains a viable basis for jurisdiction); see also Lea Brilmayer, Professor, Yale Law School, Consent, Contract, and Territory, The William B. Lockhart Lecture (Mar. 30, 1989), in 74 Minn. L. Rev. 1, 29 & n.86 (1989) (citing Bendix and stating that “[a]lthough the case law on this issue is not entirely clear, such assertions of jurisdiction may be unconstitutional”); Kipp, supra note 357, at 32–33 (arguing that Bendix is ambiguous and that use of registration statutes to infer consent to general jurisdiction is an “anachronism”).

   [383].   Model Bus. Corp. Act § 15.02(a) (1996) (“A foreign corporation transacting business in this state without a certificate of authority may not maintain a proceeding in any court in this state until it obtains a certificate of authority.”); id. § 15.02(d) (providing civil penalties for transacting business without a certificate of authority).

   [384].   See William M. Richman, Jurisdiction in Civil Actions: By Robert C. Casad, 72 Calif. L. Rev. 1328, 1343–46 (1984) (book review).

   [385].   Simard, Hybrid Jurisdictionsupra note 5, at 580–82 (noting problems with sliding scale theory as applied to product similarity cases and arguing for a restrained specific personal jurisdiction approach for “hybrid” cases).  Some observers have used the “hybrid” term to connote other theories of jurisdiction.  SeeTaylor Simpson-Wood, In the Aftermath of Goodyear Dunlop: Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! A Call for a Hybrid Approach to Personal Jurisdiction in International Products Liability Controversies, 64 Baylor L. Rev. 113, 136–40 & n.178 (2012) (proposing an aggregation of contacts across state lines for foreign national corporations under “hybrid” label).  I use the term “hybrid” to describe a blending of the two International Shoe factors—relatedness and extent of contacts.

   [386].   Richman, supra note 384.

   [387].   746 A.2d 320 (D.C. 2000).

   [388].   Id. at 335–36; see also O’Connor v. Sandy Lane Hotel Co., 496 F.3d 312, 320 (3d Cir. 2007) (surveying cases that do not make a “rigid distinction between general and specific jurisdiction” and apply some sort of “sliding scale”).

   [389].   Moreno, 746 A.2d at 322.

   [390].   Id. at 336.

   [391].   Id.

   [392].   Id. at 335–36.

   [393].   Id. at 336.

   [394].   See Twitchell, Doing Businesssupra note 4, at 191–93 (studying hundreds of cases and concluding that in most cases in which the court found general jurisdiction, the claim was somehow related to the defendant’s forum contacts).

   [395].   84 F.3d 560 (2d Cir. 1996).

   [396].   Id. at 569–70; see supra notes 270, 274, 327 (discussing Metro. Life, 84 F.3d at 566, 569-570).

   [397].   Metro. Life, 84 F.3d at 565.  A similar analysis could explain the holding in Ex parte Newco Mfg. Co. v. Southern Ry. Co., 481 So. 2d 867, 869 (Ala. 1985), where the out-of-state claims likewise concerned a product that the defendant sold in the forum state.  See supra note 327 (discussing Newco, 481 So. 2d at 869).

   [398].   See, e.g., Shute v. Carnival Cruise Lines, Inc., 897 F.2d 377, 385 & n.7 (9th Cir. 1990) (noting that, where the defendant has only one contact with the forum state, a closer nexus may be required than in a case where the defendant has “engaged in significant and continuing efforts to solicit business in the forum state”), rev’d on other grounds, 499 U.S. 585 (1991); see also supra notes 138–46 (discussing Shute, 897 F.2d at 379–83, 385–86).

   [399].   Simard, Hybrid Jurisdiction, supra note 5, at 576–77.

   [400].   Asahi Metal Indus. Co. v. Superior Court, 480 U.S. 102, 112–13 (1987).

   [401].   Id. at 112.

   [402].   Id.

   [403].   See supra notes 38–42 and accompanying text.

   [404].   Helicopteros Nacionales de Colombia, S.A. v. Hall (Helicol), 466 U.S. 408, 415 n.10 (1984).

   [405].   Goodyear Dunlop Tires Operations, S.A. v. Brown, 131 S. Ct. 2846, 2851 (2011) (citing Helicol, 466 U.S. at 414 nn.8–9); see also J. McIntyre Mach., Ltd. v. Nicastro, 131 S. Ct. 2780, 2787–88 (2011) (distinguishing between general and specific jurisdiction).

   [406].   Few lower courts have addressed the question of blended jurisdiction, but the Third Circuit rejected it in O’Connor.  O’Connor v. Sandy Lane Hotel Co., 496 F.3d 312, 321 (3d Cir. 2007) (quoting Mary Twitchell, Burnham and Constitutionally Permissible Levels of Harm, 22 Rutgers L.J. 659, 666 (1991)) (“When courts confine general and specific jurisdiction to their separate spheres, potential defendants can anticipate and control their jurisdictional exposure. . . .  Under a ‘hybrid’ approach, by contrast, all factors come together in ‘a sort of jurisdictional stew.’”).

   [407].   See World-Wide Volkswagen Corp. v. Woodson, 444 U.S. 286, 297 (1980).

   [408].   See McIntyre, 131 S. Ct. at 2793 (Breyer, J., concurring) (quoting World-Wide Volkswagen, 444 U.S. at 296) (“[T]his Court has rejected the notion that a defendant’s amenability to suit ‘travels with the chattel.’”); see also Goodyear, 131 S. Ct. at 2856 (rejecting the view that a substantial seller of goods is amenable to suit “wherever its products are distributed”).

By: Kevin J. Lynch*

Introduction

Discovery plays a key role in our modern federal courts.  Discovery can be costly and burdensome, but it also enables settlement, reduces informational disparities between parties, and clarifies issues for trial.  Under the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure, discovery is intended to occur with limited intervention by the court, absent a dispute arising.  However, in cases where a motion to dismiss is filed, judges are routinely asked to stay discovery while that motion is pending.[1]  Because the decision whether or not to stay discovery in this situation is so consequential, this Article examines what judges are doing currently on motions to stay discovery and recommends prescriptions for what judges should do in order to exercise their discretion and promote the goals of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure.

By far the largest driver of litigation costs is the cost associated with discovery,[2] and thus access to discovery can have significant effects on parties and the outcomes of cases.  Discovery can impose significant costs on both parties and may even take up the court’s time if discovery disputes arise.  Some people also take the view that our discovery system allows for “discovery abuse.”[3]  However, despite these costs and burdens, discovery has many benefits as well.  Discovery equalizes information asymmetries, thereby enhancing settlement prospects and also reducing surprises and gamesmanship at trial.[4]  Engaging in discovery allows both sides to more fully assess the strengths and weaknesses of claims and defenses.[5]  The current discovery system is also designed to proceed without the direct involvement of judges unless a dispute arises.[6]

Due to the important costs and benefits of discovery, decisions that affect the scope, timing, or availability of discovery are enormously consequential.  For civil litigation in federal court, district and magistrate judges make many decisions about discovery that affect the cases before them.  They decide the length and number of depositions that may be taken, compel or protect against the production of large numbers of documents and electronic data searches, serve as gatekeepers for expert witness testimony, and even decide whether the parties may take discovery at all until any motions to dismiss have been resolved.  This Article focuses squarely on the last issue, by both developing a framework for understanding the principles and considerations that affect whether a particular judge will stay discovery in a case pending resolution of a motion to dismiss and providing recommendations for how judges should exercise their discretion to control the discovery process.  The principal goal of judges should be to reduce or balance the costs and burdens of unnecessary discovery against those of undue delay.  In determining which test should be applied to achieve those ends, my principal goal is to align the burden on the judges with the risk of error in deciding a motion to stay discovery.[7]

Rule 1 of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure directs that the Rules “should be construed and administered to secure the just, speedy, and inexpensive determination of every action and proceeding.”[8]  Although the Rules go into some (limited) detail as to how judges are to achieve those goals in specific situations, in other areas the Rules are silent.  One such area of particular importance is whether a case should proceed, including the potentially expensive and time-consuming discovery process, when a motion to dismiss is pending.  In this context, the goals create readily apparent tensions.  A speedy determination would ordinarily involve moving quickly to discovery so that the ultimate resolution of the case would not be delayed if the motion to dismiss were denied, at least in part.  At the same time, if a case might be dismissed entirely, or narrowed significantly, by the resolution of the motion to dismiss, then commencing broad-based discovery would add unnecessary expense to the case.  This raises the question: when does a stay of discovery effectively stay justice?  The Rules and appellate decisions make clear this issue is left to the discretion of judges at the trial level.[9]  In exercising this discretion, courts might automatically stay discovery when a motion to dismiss is pending, never stay discovery in that circumstance (or disfavor it), or apply some kind of balancing test to weigh the competing interests and the potential harms due to delay or due to unnecessary discovery.

This Article examines how courts determine whether to stay discovery when motions to dismiss are pending,[10] a critical procedural issue that has heretofore received relatively scant academic interest.[11]  Part II provides background on the costs and burdens of discovery, the various interests at stake, and the judicial role overseeing discovery.  Part III presents the current state of the law by looking at the various standards that courts have explicitly applied when deciding motions to stay discovery.  Part IV develops a framework for understanding and reconciling existing precedent on discovery stays, describing eight primary considerations.  Part IV also lays out a prescription for judges to use in exercising their discretion in this context.  Part V examines the broader issue of “discovery abuse” and specific cases where discovery is automatically stayed while also noting areas for further inquiry into this issue.

I.  Background on Discovery and Its Role
in Federal Civil Litigation

A.     Costs and Burdens Associated with Discovery

Discovery creates a variety of costs and burdens for the parties and for the court.  Attorneys and their clients spend numerous hours preparing, reviewing, responding, and objecting to discovery requests, such as requests for production, interrogatories, and requests for admission.[12]  Depositions are time consuming and costly for the witnesses and the lawyers, and they include costs for court reporters and videographers.  Witnesses have their work and personal lives disrupted by the depositions and associated preparation and travel time.  Expert witnesses can be a major driver of discovery costs, particularly when specialized expertise is required and the experts can command high hourly rates for services.[13]  The parties and the court spend valuable resources on discovery disputes.

Almost anyone would agree that discovery is expensive, at least in complex cases.  The commonly held view is that discovery is too expensive, and that efforts should be made to reform the rules governing discovery, or the practices of attorneys and judges, to reduce the costs and burdens.[14]  Concerns about the costs and burdens of discovery are particularly acute in regard to e-discovery, where the potential volume of discoverable information can be quite large.[15]  Obtaining empirical data on the cost of discovery is challenging,[16] but at least some evidence exists to challenge the assumption that discovery is too expensive and that it is largely a function of the value of the case.[17]  This Article does not attempt to address the normative issues surrounding the appropriate scope and burden of discovery.  Suffice it to say that discovery is typically one of the primary drivers of cost in federal civil litigation.

B.     Incentives at Play Regarding Stays of Discovery

Discovery is costly and burdensome to all involved—plaintiffs, defendants, and courts.  As a result, this creates strong incentives for avoiding what might ultimately become unnecessary discovery, particularly for defendants to delay incurring the expense of discovery.  It is this incentive that most commonly leads to a motion to stay discovery.

Despite the efforts of many to streamline federal court litigation, complaints about undue delays persist.[18]  Particularly if they can avoid the expense of discovery, defendants in federal court litigation already have many incentives to seek delay.[19]  Such delay is particularly troublesome for plaintiffs, as the majority of motions to dismiss across the country are denied, at least in part.[20]  However, plaintiffs may also wish to stay discovery to avoid spending their time and resources until they have clarity on how the judge will rule on a motion to dismiss.

Defendants are typically concerned with avoiding the costs and burdens of discovery when those costs may ultimately prove unnecessary if a motion to dismiss is granted.  However, defendants might also want to avoid a stay of discovery so that the ultimate resolution of the case will not be delayed.  This is particularly relevant when the litigation creates uncertainty for the defendant that it wishes to have resolved expeditiously.

Other parties, such as intervenors or even those not party to the lawsuit, may be affected by the decision to grant or deny a stay of discovery.[21]  The public may also have an interest more broadly in a particular case, either in seeing a speedy or an efficient resolution of the case, or in avoiding unnecessary costs that may be passed onto the public.  And courts, of course, have a strong interest in controlling their dockets and ensuring they can manage their cases effectively.  Discovery is also not cost-free to the courts despite modern discovery rules designed to limit court involvement in discovery disputes.

C.     Judicial Management of the Discovery Process

The Federal Rules of Civil Procedure do not explicitly mention stays, either generally or in the context of discovery.  Instead, judges cite either to a court’s “inherent authority” to manage the cases before it[22] or, in the context of stays of discovery, to the broad language of Rule 26(c),[23] which authorizes “any order which justice requires to protect a party . . . from annoyance, embarrassment, oppression, or undue burden or expense.”[24]  Courts have read the language of Rule 26(c) as enabling them to issue orders staying discovery upon a showing of “good cause” by the moving party or parties.[25]  Courts cite to one of these sources of authority,[26] if anything, when issuing written decisions on motions to stay discovery.[27]

Stays of proceedings in federal court, including stays of discovery, are committed to the discretion of the trial court.[28]  Courts have stated that the mere filing of a motion to dismiss, standing alone, is not sufficient grounds for staying discovery.[29]  In some contexts, however, a stay is more likely, even automatic.  The Supreme Court has specifically addressed discovery in the qualified immunity context, stating that discovery should not be allowed until the threshold question is resolved.[30]  Furthermore, Congress explicitly requires stays of discovery when a motion to dismiss is filed in shareholder derivative suits.[31]

Neither the appellate cases nor the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure go into any detail regarding how a trial court judge should exercise discretion in deciding a motion to stay discovery when a motion to dismiss is pending.  Appellate courts will occasionally overturn a decision on a motion to stay discovery, but those opinions are based on an “abuse of discretion” standard of review.[32]  The Rules do not lay out any specific factors to be considered by judges, although many courts have incorporated a “good cause” requirement.[33]  Also, because many stays of discovery may be decided in the absence of a written opinion, it is not clear what factors, if any, judges are considering in a significant number of cases.

II.  Standards for Deciding Discovery Stays

Close inspection of written opinions from a range of federal courts reveals that no uniform standard for deciding motions to stay discovery exists.  The standards that are applied are context-dependent to be sure.  The standard applied may depend not only on the jurisdiction in which the case is filed, or on the judge hearing the motion, but also on the cause of action, the identity of the parties, the issues raised in the motion to dismiss, and the strength of the arguments in the motion to dismiss.  The considerations that affect decisions on motions to stay discovery are discussed more fully below in Part IV.A.

Furthermore, rare is the appellate case discussing what substantive standard should be applied at the trial court level.[34]  The lack of appellate case law is unsurprising because an order staying or denying a stay of discovery, by itself, is not an appealable final order.[35]  Thus, the bulk of the case law discussing discovery stays is written by district judges or magistrate judges.  Yet even this universe of cases only captures those in which the trial judge issues a written opinion or order.  It is unclear how often judges simply grant or deny motions to stay discovery without issuing a written opinion explaining their decision.[36]  To further complicate matters, the stay of discovery might occur not due to the filing of a motion to stay but rather during the scheduling conference and issuance of a scheduling order.[37]  As a result of these factors, courts within a given circuit might apply different standards in analogous situations, and there can even be variation among judges within the same district court.

Despite this variability, the range of approaches used by federal trial judges appears to be logically constrained to a few key categories.  A court might automatically stay discovery in a case once a motion to dismiss is filed.  On the flip side, a court might never use a pending motion to dismiss as grounds for staying discovery.  In between those two extremes, a judge might instead apply a balancing test to weigh the competing interests, and might even take a preliminary peek at the motion to dismiss as part of this balancing.  Without looking into the strength of the motion to dismiss, a court can balance the interests of parties, the court itself, and others.  By first preliminarily evaluating the motion to dismiss, the court can then more accurately weigh the likelihood of harm due to delay against harm due to unnecessary discovery costs.  These possible approaches will now be discussed in more detail.

A.     Auto-Stay

Outside of a few specific subsets of cases, notably shareholder derivative suits and qualified immunity cases, courts have been hesitant to state that a stay of discovery should automatically be issued while a decision on a motion to dismiss is pending.  At the same time, when a court issues a stay of discovery it will often use language that might imply, even strongly, that a stay of discovery would always be appropriate when a motion to dismiss is pending.

1.     Example—Shareholder Derivative Suits

The example of securities litigation is an interesting one in the discovery stay context, even if the absolute number of these cases is somewhat limited.[38]  In 1995, Congress enacted the Private Securities Litigation Reform Act (“PSLRA”), amending both the Securities Act of 1933 and the Securities Exchange Act of 1934 to add provisions automatically staying discovery during the pendency of a motion to dismiss.[39]  This reform has been referred to as “the culmination of extensive lobbying efforts by accountants, securities firms, and the high-technology industry to curtail what they perceived to be abusive securities class action litigation.”[40]  Proponents of this change argued that “the transaction cost of filing such suits was minimal,” allowing the filing of “strike suits” based on theories of “fraud in hindsight.”[41]  Thus the PSLRA was enacted to discourage such suits and limit their number.

2.     Example—Qualified Immunity

The other set of cases where an auto-stay approach is followed is those in which a defendant raises a defense of qualified immunity.  In this example, it was not Congress, but the Supreme Court, in Harlow v. Fitzgerald,[42] that decided that defendants should not be subjected to the burdens of discovery until such time as their qualified immunity defense was ruled upon.[43]  Although the Court in Harlow was not faced directly with the question of whether discovery should be stayed pending a motion to dismiss,[44] the Court did make the broad statement that “[u]ntil this threshold immunity question is resolved, discovery should not be allowed.”[45]

The Supreme Court recently made a similar pronouncement in another qualified immunity case, Ashcroft v. Iqbal.[46]  In Iqbal, the Court stated that Rule 8 “does not unlock the doors of discovery for a plaintiff armed with nothing more than conclusions.”[47]  The Court further discussed concerns about the “heavy costs” of litigation and rejected the lower courts’ “careful case management” approach for limiting the burdens of discovery.[48]  The Court also noted the concerns of Second Circuit Judge Cabranes, in his concurring opinion, that defendants could be subjected “to the burdens of discovery on the basis of a complaint as nonspecific as [Iqbal’s].”[49]

The Iqbal decision has received significant media and scholarly attention for its impact on pleading requirements under Rule 8(a).[50]  In addition to that debate, the case also has potential consequences relevant to this paper, as Iqbal might impact judges deciding discovery stays as well.[51]  What are courts saying about Iqbal in the context of deciding motions to stay pending resolution of motions to dismiss?  Given the recency of the Iqbal decision, only a relatively small number of cases have directly cited the case in deciding motions to stay.  A recent search of the “ALLFEDS” database on Westlaw produced twenty-seven cases—two appellate cases and twenty-five district court cases—where Iqbal was cited in this context.[52]  Yet even in this limited number of cases, there are indications that at least some courts find that Iqbal supports granting stays of discovery.[53]

As I argue in Part IV.B below, however, I do not believe that judges are required to interpret Iqbal so broadly[54] that it require automatic stays upon the filing of motions to dismiss.  Some courts already have resisted that view,[55] and they were wise to do so.  The automatic stay approach is over-inclusive and therefore results in unnecessary costs and burdens associated with delay.  These costs and burdens can be avoided if judges apply the appropriate balancing test, and the benefits of such an approach outweigh the additional burden imposed by the balancing tests.

3.     Auto-Stay in Other Contexts

Judges might take a similar approach with types of cases they wish to discourage and automatically stay discovery in those cases.  Perhaps, therefore, the basis of jurisdiction for a case can be used to help explain which standard was applied by the judge in deciding a motion to stay discovery, or could help to explain any differences in the frequency of motions to stay being granted or denied in those types of cases.  The type of case at issue might also explain why courts sometimes make what appear to be very broad statements that discovery should not proceed while a motion to dismiss is pending.  One such example is discussed below.

A rule requiring an automatic stay of discovery might be the one most likely to result in a uniform standard within a given jurisdiction, perhaps even across an entire circuit.  One interesting case out of the Eleventh Circuit appears to state just such a standard, at least for Rule 12(b)(6) motions.  In Chudasama v. Mazda Motor Corp.,[56] the court distinguished between pretrial motions turning on findings of fact, such as motions to dismiss for lack of personal jurisdiction, and those which should be decided before discovery.[57]  The court stated:

Facial challenges to the legal sufficiency of a claim or defense, such as a motion to dismiss based on failure to state a claim for relief, should, however, be resolved before discovery begins.  Such a dispute always presents a purely legal question; there are no issues of fact because the allegations contained in the pleading are presumed to be true.  Therefore, neither the parties nor the court have any need for discovery before the court rules on the motion.[58]

This language would seem to indicate, at least in the context of motions to dismiss pursuant to Rule 12(b)(6), that a stay of discovery should always be granted.  TheChudasama case has been followed by subsequent decisions in the district courts and even in the Eleventh Circuit itself,[59] but at other times either the decision was not mentioned in the context of a pending motion to dismiss,[60] or the district court distinguished Chudasama and found that discovery should not be stayed.[61]  Thus, it is not clear that the Chudasama case requires an automatic stay of discovery, even in cases involving Rule 12(b)(6) motions to dismiss within the Eleventh Circuit.

These cases do not preclude other approaches and should not be read so broadly by the lower courts.  An automatic stay rule, especially a blanket rule that applies to all types of cases regardless of other factors, would inevitably cause unnecessary delay in some subset of cases, imposing the burden of that delay on the courts (in terms of a clogged docket) and on the parties (principally on plaintiffs who risk spoliation of evidence and must risk irreparable harm or wait to be compensated for injuries).  While such a bright-line rule is simple and easy to administer, it imposes substantial costs and inserts bias into the system, as will be discussed in more detail below in Part IV.B.2.

B.     Balancing of Interests Without Prejudging

Where competing interests are at play, some form of balancing test provides the best means for judges to reach the result that best takes all sides into account.  The competing interests at play in the discovery stay context involve the costs and burdens associated with unnecessary discovery (typically associated with defendants although plaintiffs bear these as well) and the costs and burdens of delay in both discovery and ultimate resolution of the case (typically associated with plaintiffs although defendants may also have incentives to avoid delay and reduce uncertainty).  These two principal burdens can be weighed against each other to determine whether there is greater risk from delay or from unnecessary discovery, with a discovery stay granted or denied in a way that minimizes the risk.  Other factors may also influence a judge’s decision, such as interests from the court itself, from the public, or from others not party to the litigation.  Thus the typical[62] formulation of this approach is a five-factor balancing test weighing:

(1) the interest of the plaintiff in proceeding expeditiously with the civil action as balanced against the prejudice to plaintiffs if a delay; (2) the burden on defendants; (3) the convenience of the court; (4) the interests of persons not parties to the civil litigation; and (5) the public interest.[63]

In this Article, I will refer to this test as the “balancing of factors” approach.

Courts have put some gloss on these factors, although in general there is not a lot of guidance on how these factors should be weighed against each other.  For example, potential prejudice to the plaintiff might result if there is a risk that evidence will be spoiled during any delay, particularly if the case involves significant witness testimony.[64]  Some courts require that the burden must be an extraordinary burden, so a defendant cannot rely on a generic assertion that discovery will be burdensome, because that is always the case.[65]  Instead, the defendant must show that the case is unusually complex, discovery will be unusually extensive, or something along those lines.[66]  The convenience of the court is sometimes described as reflecting the ability of the court to manage its docket and ensure that cases proceed at an appropriate pace; thus, some courts are hesitant to grant discovery stays when it may be many months before a motion to dismiss is decided.[67]  However, judges typically do not go into great detail on each factor, or how they are to be compared with the other factors.

C.     Preliminary Peek

An alternative balancing approach is to weigh the potential harms if the discovery stay is needlessly granted or denied, not in the abstract but according to the likelihood that the motion to dismiss will be granted or denied.  Thus, a judge will assign more weight to the burdens of discovery if she thinks the motion to dismiss is likely to be granted but more weight to the risks of delay if she thinks the motion to dismiss is likely to be denied.  The amount of weight put on either end of the scale depends upon how confident the judge is that the motion to dismiss will ultimately be resolved the same way as this preliminary determination.  Some courts use the phrase “preliminary peek” to describe this approach,[68] and I will adopt that terminology in this Article.[69]

If the stay is granted, the potential harm is that the motion to dismiss will be denied, in whole or in part, and then discovery will have been delayed, which would therefore delay the ultimate resolution of the case.  This is a particular concern for a plaintiff who ultimately prevails, but either does not or cannot recover for harms incurred during the delay, such as irreparable harm which cannot be compensated for by money damages.  Delays in discovery itself may also prove harmful, as documents are lost or destroyed, witnesses’ memories fade, or witnesses become unavailable.  However, as discussed in Part II.B above, delay may prove harmful not just to plaintiffs, but also to defendants, third parties, or even the public.  The court may also experience harm due to delay in the form of an increasingly clogged court.

On the other hand, the risk of potential harm when a discovery stay is not granted is that the case will ultimately be dismissed, making any discovery burden an unnecessary cost, or that the case will be partially dismissed such that the scope of discovery was unduly broad before the ruling on the motion to dismiss.  This harm could impact not only the defendant forced to bear the expense of discovery, but also the plaintiff who bears his own cost of discovery for a claim that ultimately proves unsuccessful.  The court also may incur costs in terms of managing discovery disputes, holding a status conference, or in other ways expending resources that ultimately could have been conserved.

Some examples are helpful to distinguish the differences between the “balancing of factors” and “preliminary peek” approaches.  Both of these balancing tests consider roughly the same factors, with the preliminary peek test adding one additional factor: likelihood of success of the motion to dismiss.  Thus, while the “balancing of factors” test might give roughly equal[70] weight to the harm from unnecessary delay and to the harm from unnecessary discovery costs, the “preliminary peek” approach will adjust the weight given to the considerations based on their likelihood of occurring.  Suppose, for example, that a case involves a small number of witnesses who may be deposed or who would testify at trial and a reasonable number of documents that are potentially discoverable.  Suppose also that the parties have sufficient resources such that they can bear the costs of discovery without affecting their finances greatly, and that the plaintiff can be fully compensated by money damages in the future.  Under the “balancing of factors” approach, a judge might be expected to deny the discovery stay, finding that the costs imposed by discovery are not unreasonable and they are outweighed by the admittedly small risk of harm through spoliation of evidence and delay.  However, a “preliminary peek” at the motion to dismiss might reveal that the case is very likely to be dismissed, and, under this approach, a judge might find that even the small burden imposed by discovery in this case would be unacceptable given the likelihood that it would be a waste of time and resources.

Suppose instead that discovery in our example case will be quite extensive, with numerous experts submitting testimony and dozens of witnesses to be deposed, but that most of the material evidence is reflected in hundreds of thousands of documents subject to discovery, with little risk that they will be lost or destroyed.  Under a “balancing of factors” approach, the court will now weigh the significant costs and burden associated with discovery against a somewhat greater burden of delay, but still without significant risk of spoliation of evidence.  Furthermore, the court can expect multiple discovery disputes to be presided over.  Thus a judge might be expected to stay discovery, finding that before incurring the associated costs and burdens the motion to dismiss should be decided.  Under a “preliminary peek” approach, however, the same judge might determine that the motion to dismiss merely quibbles around the edges and that the major claims are very likely to succeed.  The only way the entire case could be dismissed is due to a challenge to standing, although standing seems clearly evident in the case.  Thus, the judge might decide to allow discovery to proceed, despite its costs and burdens on the parties and the court, because such discovery is unlikely to prove wasteful and any risk is outweighed by the harms associated with delay.

The “preliminary peek” approach thus allows judges to refine their balancing in a way that allows them to minimize the risk of unnecessary costs and burdens in any particular case.  But this approach does not come without a cost, as the additional factor in the balancing requires the judge to preliminarily review the motion to dismiss and reach a tentative conclusion regarding how it will be resolved.  The “balancing of factors” approach is simpler than the “preliminary peek” approach, but both are more burdensome than a bright-line rule to either stay or deny a stay in all or a subset of cases, because the balancing tests require the judge to consider a variety of factors and exercise her discretion; the balancing tests also require the parties to submit briefs on the relevant factors.  An automatic stay rule, on the other hand, either does or does not apply based on the characteristics of the case, and so it saves both the courts and the parties time and resources.  The various burdens associated with these tests are discussed in more detail in Part IV below, along with the most relevant considerations that can be used to decide which test is most appropriate to apply in a given case.

D.    Disfavored Stay

One final key category is that the court might never stay discovery when a motion to dismiss is pending.  One might expect that this extreme position[71] is unlikely to be found; indeed, I have not found any court going so far as to say that discovery could never be stayed due to a pending motion to dismiss.  However, courts will indicate that stays of all discovery are disfavored,[72] or that more than simply the filing of a motion to dismiss is required to stay all discovery.[73]  Courts might cite a policy that stays of discovery are disfavored and then point out that no “compelling reasons” exist to stay discovery in a given case, without either balancing the interests or taking a preliminary peek at the merits.[74]  This type of approach might be simpler than applying one of the balancing tests, but it is difficult to imagine a judge that would not, or should not, stay discovery in some cases for good cause.

III.  A Framework for Analyzing Requests to Stay Discovery: Factors to Explain Tests Applied and Outcomes
Regarding Discovery Stays

Deducing a pattern to explain what standard will be applied to decide motions to stay discovery, both across different types of cases and across jurisdictions, is a difficult proposition.  Jurisdictions vary greatly in what tests they apply under what circumstances, even within the same circuit.  Courts in the same jurisdiction will apply different tests (either slightly or significantly different) in similar situations.  However, the reported cases explicitly identify a number of characteristics that judges consider that might affect either which standard the courts apply or how they apply the standards.  Based on my review of the available written opinions on discovery stays, I have also identified additional considerations that may impact how judges decide motions to stay discovery.  Some of these factors relate to not just the test that is applied but how the competing interests should be weighed against each other.  Eight of these principal considerations will be discussed in this Article:

(1) The type of case (including the judge’s familiarity with and views regarding it);

(2) The presence of the government as a party;

(3) The likelihood of settlement;

(4) Threshold versus ultimate issues;

(5) Partial versus complete motions to dismiss;

(6) The remedy sought;

(7) The complexity of the case (or specifically the scope of discovery); and

(8) Whether the motion to stay discovery is decided by a district or magistrate judge.

These considerations will be used to both analyze and understand what judges are doing currently on motions to stay discovery as well as to formulate my prescriptions for what judges should do in order to exercise their discretion and promote the goals of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure.  Some of these factors relate to the question of which standard should be applied, while other factors are more properly limited to consideration in a balancing test.

A.     Type of Case

The type of case might be a proxy that judges use to assess whether the motion to dismiss is more or less likely to be granted.  Some judges might be more likely to take an initial look at the motion to dismiss in particular cases where they suspect that the motion to dismiss might have merit.  Thus, courts might not bother to take a preliminary peek in run of the mill contract dispute cases.  In more unusual or complicated cases, or in those cases in which the judge does not have much experience with the parties, the judge would be more concerned about the costs of unnecessary discovery.  Environmental cases are typically complex, and most judges do not have much experience with them, so they might be more inclined to look at the merits of the motion to dismiss in those cases.  This same dynamic could also play out in cases where the judge has significant experience but thinks that the motion to dismiss is more likely to be granted, such as prisoner petitions or pro se cases.

The type of case might also be a proxy for the judge’s view toward particular classes of parties, and so the outcomes of motions to stay discovery might be explained partially by how the judge views the parties and how that influences her exercise of discretion.  This consideration is not explicitly mentioned in the cases, although it seems plausible to expect that it may influence at least some judges.  One related consideration that has been explicitly mentioned is the litigation history of the plaintiff.[75]

The type of case is of course already an explicit factor that leads to application of the auto-stay rule in the specific examples of qualified immunity and shareholder derivative suits discussed previously.[76]  Thus another way to view this factor is as a case-by-case application of the same principle justifying the application of the auto-stay rule.  For particular kinds of cases, judges are more concerned about the risks of harm due to unnecessary discovery costs.  For those cases, judges will be more inclined to look more closely at the risk of such harm and more likely to ultimately grant a stay of discovery to protect against it.

B.     Government as a Party / Public Versus Private Law

Where a government official is a defendant, particularly when immunity is raised in the motion to dismiss, courts are more likely to apply the auto-stay rule or to grant a stay based on a balancing of interests.[77]  However, outside of the § 1983 context, when the government is sued the case is often decided on the administrative record, and so discovery does not become an issue.  I have not found any cases discussing discovery stays where the government initiates the suit, such as in a civil enforcement action.  These cases might provide interesting additional data, however, as to whether judges are more or less likely to defer to the government’s position on a motion to stay discovery.  At least in the immunity context, the presence of the government or a government official as a party does affect the test that is applied.[78]  The government as a party also has the potential to influence the result of any balancing test that is applied if judges are more likely to give greater weight to the burdens of discovery when imposed on government officials who have other important duties.[79]  A closer examination of these public law cases is needed to shed light on the deference judges give to government parties when deciding motions to stay discovery.

C.     Settlement

I have not found any cases discussing the likelihood of settlement as a factor influencing either the outcome of a balancing test or the test that is applied.  However, many judges view facilitating settlement as one of their most important roles,[80] particularly the magistrate judges who typically deal with discovery disputes including motions to stay discovery.  Judges might also see their role as protecting defendants from the harassment of discovery designed to lead to a quick settlement.[81]  Settlement becomes more likely as discovery progresses and the basic facts of the case become more established and known to both sides.[82]  The exchange of documents, deposition testimony, and expert reports might all cause one side or the other to become less confident in his or her chances of success and therefore more open to settlement to resolve the case on their terms.  Additionally, the imminent costs to be incurred through the discovery process can also provide an incentive for parties to come to the table for settlement discussions.  On the other hand, if discovery is stayed while a motion to dismiss is pending, the parties have little incentive to reach a settlement until the motion to dismiss is decided and they can reassess the strength of their respective positions.

Therefore it is entirely plausible that judges might take the probability of settlement into account when deciding motions to stay discovery.  If the judge views the likelihood of settlement to be reasonably high, she might therefore be more likely to allow discovery to proceed in order to encourage an earlier settlement.  If, however, the parties seem to be far from settlement, then a bit more discovery is unlikely to result in resolution of the case.

D.    Threshold Versus Ultimate Issues

Courts sometimes look to whether a “threshold” or “preliminary” issue is at the heart of the motion to dismiss, such as when jurisdiction, venue, or immunity are preliminary issues.[83]  Standing might also be a basis for a motion to dismiss that could cause courts to look more closely into whether a stay of discovery should be granted.[84]  Where these threshold issues are part of the motion to dismiss, courts apply more scrutiny and give greater weight to the concern that discovery burdens would ultimately prove unnecessary.[85]  Judges appear to be more likely to apply an auto-stay rule or take a preliminary peek at the merits of cases when the motion to dismiss raises a threshold issue.[86]  However, where some fact discovery is needed for the plaintiff to establish jurisdiction, courts will typically allow at least limited discovery on that issue.[87]

Why does the presence of a threshold issue matter to judges?  Threshold issues are the types of issues that can completely dispose of an entire case, unlike failure to state a claim motions under Rule 12(b)(6), which may dispose of the entire case but also may dispose of only a claim or a portion of a claim.  Also, because these threshold issues are seen as prerequisites to reaching the merits, courts are more likely to stay discovery because discovery is primarily geared toward the merits of the case.  To the extent that threshold issues require discovery before they can be decided, courts can and do limit discovery to only those threshold issues in order to carefully manage the process and decide the threshold matters without expending resources on merits discovery until it will clearly be relevant.[88]

E.     Partial Versus Complete Motions to Dismiss

A court is unlikely to stay all discovery in a case when the motion to dismiss would only partially dispose of the case.[89]  Thus, one would not expect to find a court that applies the auto-stay standard in all cases where a motion to dismiss is filed.  My research, not surprisingly, has turned up no such cases.  Staying all discovery in a case where a partial motion to dismiss was filed would almost certainly cause unnecessary delay with respect to those parts of the case not subject to the partial motion to dismiss.

Judges who take a more active role in managing discovery will sometimes stay discovery regarding those portions of the case which are subject to a motion to dismiss, provided those portions of the case are discrete and separable from the remaining portions of the case.  It is not uncommon, however, for the same set of documents or the same witnesses to contain information relevant to more than one part of a case, and so it may not be possible to stay discovery with respect to only the parts of the case that are subject to the motion to dismiss.[90]

F.     Remedy Sought

Judges might also take into account the remedy sought by the plaintiff and how that reflects on the various interests that might be affected by delay.  When the plaintiff is seeking only money damages, the risk of harm due to delay is lessened.[91]  My research thus far has not turned up any courts that look to whether there is a risk of irreparable harm, although this could be incorporated into either the preliminary peek or the balancing interests without prejudging approaches.  Of course, the risk of irreparable harm can also be addressed through a preliminary injunction, although a more lenient standard is justified here where the plaintiff seeks not to enjoin action by the defendant but simply to proceed with discovery in the case during the pendency of a motion to dismiss.  As discussed below, I do think that the interests at stake should be considered by judges deciding motions to stay discovery and that this factor justifies greater judicial involvement to ensure that the risks of harm due to delay are appropriately balanced against the risks of unnecessary discovery.

G.    Complexity of the Case (Scope of Discovery)

One consideration that some courts clearly take into account is the complexity of the case and whether a more complex case is likely to have unusually burdensome discovery.[92]  This consideration is explicitly part of both balancing tests, where the judge will look to the potential burdens of discovery in deciding whether or not the motion to dismiss should be decided before discovery commences.[93]  Although this consideration is clearly important, particularly in complex cases, I have ranked it after other considerations because it appears to be less important in influencing the standard that judges apply on motions to stay discovery.[94]  However, as discussed below, I argue that the complexity of the case should impact not just the outcome of the balancing test but also which balancing test should even be applied.  Complex cases pose a greater risk of wasted resources should discovery prove unnecessary, and so this justifies greater judicial involvement to strike the appropriate balance.[95]

H.    District Judge Versus Magistrate Judge

Magistrate judges are authorized pursuant to Title 28, Chapter 43 of the U.S. Code.  Jurisdiction and powers of the magistrate judges are set out in 28 U.S.C. § 636.[96]  Although parties must consent to have a magistrate decide potentially dispositive motions, such as motions to dismiss, magistrates are often given broad authority to manage the discovery process and to decide discovery disputes.  However, as I have already argued, a decision whether or not to stay discovery can have very significant consequences for the parties and can even be outcome-determinative if one party is forced to settle or abandon its case or defense due to the burdens of discovery or the costs of delay.

Particularly for cases where the parties do not consent to have the magistrate decide dispositive motions, it would be potentially problematic to have magistrates “prejudge” the motion to dismiss when deciding whether or not to grant a motion to stay discovery.  A magistrate may deem a motion to dismiss to be without merit, and therefore allow discovery to proceed even if it is particularly burdensome.  Or a magistrate may deem a motion to dismiss likely to succeed, and therefore stay discovery even though it presents a significant risk of spoliation of evidence or would not impose any extraordinary burden on the parties.  In either scenario, the magistrate’s views on the motion to dismiss may differ from the district judge’s views.  Absent consent by the parties, such important decisions are better resolved using a balancing test that does not involve the magistrate prejudging the motion to dismiss.  Indeed, some magistrate judges explicitly disclaim prejudging motions to dismiss when they decide motions to stay discovery.[97]

I have not uncovered any cases where a magistrate states that she applies a different standard than a district judge would apply, however, so it is not clear whether the presence of a magistrate judge has any impact on the test applied or the outcome on motions to stay discovery.  Without conducting an empirical study, it is difficult if not impossible to say at this point whether courts set a different standard based on whether a magistrate or district judge is deciding the motion to stay discovery.[98]  Conceivably the test might vary even within the same jurisdiction, depending on whether the district judge refers the motion to stay discovery to the magistrate or not.  I will argue below, in Part IV.B.3, that magistrate judges should apply a balancing test that does not involve a preliminary peek unless the parties have consented to magistrate jurisdiction.

IV.  A Suggested Approach for Judges Exercising Their Discretion on Discovery Stays

A.     Existing Proposals for Reform

I am aware of at least one proposal to reform the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure that specifically addresses stays of discovery in the motion to dismiss context.  The American College of Trial Lawyers and the Institute for the Advancement of the American Legal System created a Task Force on Discovery and Civil Justice that conducted research, surveyed trial lawyers, and evaluated potential solutions to the problems that cause the federal civil justice system to be expensive, cumbersome, and protracted.[99]  One of the proposed “Pilot Project Rules” from the Task Force directly addresses the issue of discovery stays:

Upon the making of a motion directed to the personal or subject matter jurisdiction of the court or the legal sufficiency of one or more claims for relief, made together with an answer or at the time within which an answer would otherwise be due, the court, at the request of the moving party based on good cause shown, may stay initial disclosures and discovery in appropriate cases for a period of up to 90 days.  The motion must be decided within that 90 day period.[100]

This proposal would make explicit the courts’ authority to stay discovery pending a motion to dismiss, would require good cause to be shown, and, most importantly, would require a resolution of a motion to dismiss within ninety days.  While requiring a ruling on a motion to dismiss within ninety days would greatly streamline the federal judicial system and reduce the risk of prejudice due to delays while discovery is stayed, I have doubts about the practicality of such a rule.  Many federal courts have caseloads that are already excessive, and Congress has not acted to address the issue by adding additional judgeships.[101]  Additionally, there would be no consequences if a judge did not rule on the motion to dismiss within ninety days.  Extending the stay or ending it, while of great significance to the litigants themselves, is not likely provide much incentive to judges to decide the motions any more quickly.  And in some cases, particularly complex cases, we may not want the judge to rush a decision on a dispositive motion.

Beyond the impracticality of requiring decisions on motions to dismiss within ninety days, the proposal merely states that “good cause” must be shown in order for the court to stay discovery.  This might affect a change in those jurisdictions that are most likely to apply an “automatic stay” type of standard, but otherwise would not provide any additional guidance to trial court judges as they exercise their discretion.  I believe that a more important, and practical, aspect of reform involves specifying what standards—and under what circumstances—judges should apply in the exercise of their discretion.

B.     My Proposal

The two primary benefits of my proposal are (1) efficiency and (2) transparency.  The proposal promotes efficiency by laying out a framework to justify the standard to be applied by courts that balances the burdens of that standard against the potential costs and benefits of reaching the “wrong” result.  By focusing greater attention on those cases that pose greater of from either a “false positive” or a “false negative,” my proposal promotes the efficient use of court and party resources.  The proposal promotes transparency by encouraging judges to give explicit consideration to the factors affecting their exercise of discretion and to make their weighing of competing interests known both to the parties and to the broader public.  The proposal remains reliant on the exercise of judicial discretion because judges have the experience and the flexibility to minimize the risks associated with unnecessary discovery costs and undue delay.

Like any standard applied by the courts, rules for deciding motions to stay discovery due to pending motions to dismiss can be either over-inclusive or under-inclusive.[102]  Examine the issues from the perspective of a judge who wishes discovery to proceed unless a stay is necessary to protect a party under Rule 26(c).  From that viewpoint, a standard is over-inclusive if it results in a stay of discovery in cases where discovery should have proceeded without delay, such as when the motion to dismiss is ultimately denied.  A standard is under-inclusive if it results in discovery proceeding for some time, until the motion to dismiss is granted, making the time and resources spent on discovery a waste.  Arguably there is a grey area in the middle,[103] where either (1) discovery should have proceeded, even though the motion to dismiss was ultimately granted, because, for example, there was a significant risk of spoliation of evidence or a significant risk of irreparable harm due to delay; or (2) discovery should not have proceeded, even though the motion to dismiss was ultimately denied, because for example the costs and burdens of discovery were so great that any risk of waste should not be tolerated.

Of course a standard might also turn out to be both over- and under-inclusive, depending on the specific cases it is applied to.  A rule that allows discovery to proceed when the burden of discovery is minimal but not when it is extraordinary is under-inclusive in the simple case that is ultimately dismissed but over-inclusive in the complex case that ultimately survives the motion to dismiss.  A rule that always stays discovery when only money damages are at issue but that never stays discovery when there is risk of irreparable harm would also be both over- and under-inclusive, when the money damages case proceeds or the irreparable harm case gets dismissed.  Any balancing test risks getting the outcome “wrong” in any particular case, and those balancing tests may or may not have a bias toward over- or under-inclusiveness.

Any proposal for changes or an increase in uniformity regarding standards in discovery stay cases should be focused primarily on striking the appropriate balance between over- and under-inclusiveness in the standards.  The goal is not necessarily minimizing the error, because solutions to do so may be either unworkable in practice or may create an additional burden on the courts and the parties.  Thus the inquiry becomes how much error the standards should tolerate, how the error is allocated between the over- and under-inclusive side, and what circumstances justify changes in the standards applied to either decrease the amount of error or to reduce the burden on the courts and the parties.

As noted previously, the “balancing of factors” and “preliminary peek” tests currently applied by various courts largely utilize the same or similar factors in weighing whether or not to stay discovery, with the “preliminary peek” test using the additional factor of the likelihood of success of the motion to dismiss.  This additional factor allows courts to reduce their error rate, such that they reach the “right” result more often.  Courts applying the “preliminary peek” test are less likely to stay discovery when a motion to dismiss will fail or to allow discovery to proceed when the motion to dismiss will succeed.  However this reduction in error rate comes at a cost because the court must take the additional step of prejudging the motion to dismiss.[104]  Additional burden and error are introduced when different judges decide the motion to stay discovery and the motion to dismiss.  Because the other factors that the two tests consider are largely the same, applying one or the other test should not materially impact the bias toward either over- or under-inclusiveness.  Therefore, the decision of which test to apply amounts to a decision of how much risk of error should be tolerated.  Thus a balancing of factors approach is appropriate when the risk is relatively low, such as when the burdens of discovery are not high or the risk of delay can be fully compensated later.  The preliminary peek test becomes appropriate as the risks increase, such as when discovery is particularly complex or the risks of delay become unacceptable.

A blanket rule automatically staying discovery when a motion to dismiss is filed is not appropriate.[105]  Such a rule would be unfair to plaintiffs who wish to proceed with discovery, would impair judges’ ability to effectively control their dockets, and would be inconsistent with the Federal Rules, which allow a judge to stay discovery under Rule 26(c) but require some showing of good cause.  To the extent that the Supreme Court or circuit courts have made statements that would seem to support an automatic stay rule, those opinions are properly seen as limited by their context to cases involving immunity concerns or a particularly high risk of unnecessary and overly burdensome discovery.

Automatic stays of discovery are not even appropriate in limited circumstances, such as is already provided for in qualified immunity or shareholder derivative cases.  The automatic stay in shareholder derivative suits is commonly viewed as an attempt by Congress to limit those suits, and correctly so.[106]  The judge-made rule to stay discovery in qualified immunity suits similarly serves to create additional barriers to bringing an action against government officials.[107]  Yet in both sets of cases, motions to dismiss are denied, resulting in unnecessary delays in discovery.  An automatic stay provision encourages defendants to file motions to dismiss, increasing the likelihood that nonmeritorious motions are filed.  A preliminary peek standard applied to those cases would allow judges to weed out the nonmeritorious motions and allow discovery to proceed while still minimizing the risks of unnecessary discovery in cases that either Congress or the courts have determined are of particular concern.

In addition to increasing the efficiency of the system by focusing judicial resources on the cases involving the most significant risk of harm to either or both of the parties, my proposal also brings additional benefits due to the increase in transparency.  Transparency will be increased as judges make explicit, in writing, which tests they are applying and how they are weighing the competing interests at stake.  This increase in transparency will be helpful to other judges who can rely upon the collective wisdom of their peers when exercising their discretion.  The accretion of judicial precedent on this issue—particularly if the decisions are consistent with each other in applying the same test in similar situations—will lead to greater uniformity of decision making across the country.  This uniformity will increase fairness and will also lessen any risk of forum shopping.

Transparency in decision making on motions to stay discovery will also provide tangible benefits to parties.  When parties know what standards will be applied to motions to stay discovery, they can focus their efforts on identifying the relevant facts and presenting those to the court.  Transparency in terms of how the standards will be applied to specific fact situations will also decrease the number of disputes over discovery stays, particularly in the extreme cases.  As a result, plaintiffs will be less likely to oppose motions to stay discovery when there is no risk of irreparable harm and the costs of discovery will be great, because they will know that the judge is unlikely to allow discovery to proceed.  Conversely, defendants will have less incentive to seek a stay of discovery if they know there is a risk of irreparable harm and their motion to dismiss will not entirely dispose of the case.  Thus, particularly over time, both courts and the parties will expend fewer resources on clear-cut cases, allowing courts to spend more resources managing novel cases or those where the risks of harm are unusually high.

My proposal is that courts should adopt the standard, already in place in some districts, that stays of discovery are generally disfavored and only justified where the movant has demonstrated good cause.  How the court determines what establishes good cause is context dependent.  In some situations, the court should take a preliminary peek at the motion to dismiss and use the likelihood of the motion being granted or denied to balance the risks associated with a stay of discovery.  However, outside of certain clearly-defined contexts, judges should avoid prejudging the motion to dismiss and should instead balance the competing interests without taking a preliminary peek at the motion to dismiss.

Under what circumstances should the judge take a preliminary peek at the motion to dismiss?  The considerations discussed in Part III provide a guide for addressing this question.  The flowchart emphasizes that a disfavored stay is the starting point for judges faced with a motion to stay discovery due to a pending motion to dismiss.  Magistrate judges should only apply the balance of interests test, regardless of other factors of the case.  District court judges should employ the preliminary peek test in those cases where the risk of error is particularly great, due to the complexity of the case, the risk of irreparable harm, or the need to determine threshold issues.  In all other cases, district judges should apply the balancing of interests test.  An automatic stay is only appropriate in the limited circumstances dictated by Congress or the Supreme Court—qualified immunity and shareholder derivative suits.

 

Figure 1: Process for Deciding Which Test to Apply on Motions to Stay Discovery

 

1.     Factors Insufficient to Justify a Preliminary Peek

The following factors are ones that do not, by themselves, justify the additional burden of the preliminary peek test.  Instead, these factors should be considered, if at all, in either balancing test and might weigh for or against a stay of discovery.  Judges should be clear about the extent they rely upon these, or other, factors, for the benefit of the parties and the integrity of the judicial system.  Explicit discussion of the applicable factors will provide clarity to the parties and remove uncertainty around whether a stay will be granted.  This discussion will also provide guidance for parties in future cases to tailor their arguments such that the judges actually receive the most relevant information, thereby reducing judicial speculation as well as the risk of error.

A judge should not use the type of case, even if it is an unusual case for the judge to hear, as a basis for taking a preliminary peek at the motion to dismiss.  Nor should a judge use her view of a particular class of cases as a factor in either balancing test that is applied.  Thus, a judge should not apply her notion of which types of cases are usually meritorious (or not) as a basis for prejudging the motion to dismiss or for granting a stay of discovery.  Instead, the court should balance the interests without prejudging, unless another consideration justifies taking a preliminary peek.  If any additional classes of cases warrant application of an auto-stay rule, that decision should come from either Congress or from the appellate courts, given the conflict that the auto-stay rule creates with the discovery system under the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure.

If the party seeking the stay asserts that the motion to dismiss would completely resolve the case, then the judge should look to the motion to dismiss to confirm whether this is true, but should only consider the likelihood of success of the motion to dismiss if another factor in the case justifies the use of the preliminary peek approach.  Similarly, for motions to dismiss that would only partially dispose of the case, the judge should balance the interests independent of any prejudging of the motion to dismiss.  And furthermore, any stay of discovery that is granted should only affect discovery related solely to the disputed claims.

The status of the government as a party to the action should not affect which standard applies, except in the situation where the government party asserts qualified immunity as a defense.  Many public law cases would involve either an administrative record, and thus limited or no discovery, or the government as a plaintiff.  The standard judges should apply therefore depends not so much on whether the government is a party but on other considerations, such as the complexity of discovery or the ability to preserve evidence.  A government plaintiff, however, should not be treated differently than any other plaintiff for the purposes of deciding a motion to stay, whether the government supports or opposes the stay.

The final factor, settlement likelihood, should not affect the standard that is applied, but it should be included in both balancing tests.  If the court thinks that settlement is relatively likely once the parties proceed to discovery and begin to narrow the scope of issues, then a stay of discovery is less appropriate.  Quick settlement will help reduce the burdens on courts and will help the parties avoid the costs of delay and uncertainty.  And if the parties are indeed likely to settle the case, then the risk of error in deciding the motion to stay discovery becomes lower.  Therefore, the additional burden created by the preliminary peek is not justified by the settlement likelihood but instead must be justified by another factor in the case.  Both approaches can take account of settlement likelihood when weighing the costs and burdens of discovery against those of delay.

2.     Factors Sufficient to Justify a Preliminary Peek

Because I argue that the presumptive test to apply in deciding motions to stay discovery should be a balancing of factors without prejudging the motion to dismiss, certain conditions must exist in a given case to justify application of the more intensive preliminary peek approach.  Any one of the factors discussed below is sufficient, but not necessary, to justify application of the preliminary peek test.  The only factor I have identified as necessary for the preliminary peek approach is discussed in the next Subpart.

Where the motion to dismiss involves threshold issues such as jurisdiction, venue, immunity, or standing, the judge should take a preliminary peek at the motion to dismiss to inform the balancing of harms that might result from a grant or denial of a stay.  For those cases where jurisdiction is challenged, a preliminary peek at the motion to dismiss will also enable the judge to allow discovery on matters relevant to establishing whether jurisdiction is proper, so that any stay that is entered would apply only to matters unrelated to jurisdiction.

The remedy sought would also affect what standard should be required to show good cause.  There is greater risk of harm due to delay when a plaintiff seeks equitable relief because delay might result in irreparable harm.  In such a case, the party seeking to stay discovery, typically (but not exclusively) the defendant, would need to show that he is likely to prevail on the motion to dismiss and make the discovery unnecessary.  This can be seen as the converse of the preliminary injunction standard, where the defendant’s actions are only enjoined if the plaintiff can show she is likely to prevail on the merits.  Here, the defendant (typically) can only avoid discovery and thereby delay the case if he can show that he is likely to prevail on the motion to dismiss.  Where a party is seeking only money damages, the interest is not irreparable,[108] and thus the judge need not take a preliminary peek and should instead balance the competing interests without prejudging the motion to dismiss.

Finally, the complexity of the case (as a proxy for the burden of discovery) is another factor that justifies a preliminary peek at the motion to dismiss.  Although the complexity of the case is taken into account under both balancing approaches, the risk of error increases along with the complexity of the case.  Once the case becomes sufficiently complex, it justifies the use of the court’s time to conduct a preliminary peek analysis.  But for standard run-of-the-mill cases without extraordinary discovery needs, the court’s time is better spent applying the balancing of factors test.

3.     One Factor Necessary to Apply the Preliminary Peek Test

The preliminary peek test should only be applied by a judge who will ultimately decide the motion to dismiss.  While the previous factors discussed either were or were not sufficient to justify the application of the preliminary peek test, this final factor is not sufficient but it is necessary.

If a motion to stay discovery is being decided by a magistrate judge and the parties have not consented to have the magistrate decide dispositive motions, then the magistrate should not take a preliminary peek at the merits and should avoid prejudging the motion to dismiss, which must be decided by the Article III judge.  However, if the parties consent to have the magistrate decide their case, then the magistrate may apply the preliminary peek approach, if another consideration justifies it.  A district judge may apply either approach, as justified by other considerations.

Three main reasons support this conclusion.  First, because the parties have not consented to have the magistrate decide dispositive motions such as a motion to dismiss, the magistrate should base rulings on a motion to stay discovery on factors independent of the merits of the motion to dismiss.  This both protects the rights of the parties and also falls within the core competency of magistrate judges, who are primarily responsible for settling discovery and scheduling disputes in civil cases.[109]  Second, the additional burden imposed on the court by evaluating the merits of the motion to dismiss is greater for a magistrate than for a district judge—preliminary review by a district judge can inform the later, ultimate decision, whereas the magistrate’s preliminary review would only assist resolution of the motion to stay discovery.  Finally, the error reduction aspects of the preliminary peek approach are also diminished when different judges decide the motion to stay discovery and the motion to dismiss.  Magistrate judges are more likely to have a different preliminary evaluation of the motion to dismiss than the district judge who will ultimately decide it, and so the benefit of the more burdensome test is reduced.[110]

V.  Broader Issues

A.     “Discovery Abuse”

Any discussion of the costs of unnecessary discovery naturally raises the issue of whether the discovery process can be used strategically to threaten the imposition of burdensome costs on a party in an effort to get it to agree to a less-favorable settlement.  This type of situation is commonly referred to as “discovery abuse.”

Critics of the modern discovery system decry what they term “wild fishing expeditions” that intrude on individual privacy, impose high costs on litigants, and use the discovery process unfairly to pressure parties into settlement.[111]  Concerns over “discovery abuse” are not limited to scholars and practicing attorneys, however, as judges also cite it as a concern or as a justification for their rulings.[112]

However, the view of “discovery abuse” as a common and serious problem is not shared by all.[113]  Indeed, reliable data regarding the costs of discovery are difficult to come by,[114] and instead proponents of reform tend to point to the extreme examples when making their case.[115]  My proposal allows judges to prevent discovery abuses on a case-by-case basis, but it resists the calls by some who seek broader reforms to prevent “discovery abuse.”  Alarms raised over “discovery abuse” do not provide a sufficient basis for expanding auto-stay rules to a broader set of cases.  Instead, by properly focusing judicial attention on the cases that present the greatest risk of “discovery abuse,” my proposal effectively deals with the extreme cases while retaining the default of allowing discovery to proceed in run-of-the-mill cases.  As a result, my proposal need not address the underlying issue of how much discovery is appropriate in given case, leaving that to the parties and the judges to decide.

B.     Existing Auto-Stay Rules

Uniquely compelling circumstances led to the adoption of auto-stay rules for cases involving qualified immunity defenses and shareholder derivative suits.  In those cases, either the Supreme Court or Congress acted to address what was viewed as excessive risk from unnecessary discovery in particular classes of cases.[116]  Lower courts should respect those decisions by enforcing automatic stay rules only in that limited subset of cases.  Outside of these two contexts, judges should appropriately exercise their discretion to decide discovery stays on a case-by-case basis and resist any temptation to broaden the application of automatic stay rules.

The concerns that led Congress to enact the Private Securities Litigation Reform Act[117] are not present in other classes of cases, and certainly not in all civil cases in our federal courts.  Similarly, the extreme facts presented by Iqbal,[118] or even by more ordinary qualified immunity cases,[119] are not present in the vast majority of cases.  Instead, as Professor Hartnett has argued, a broad rule requiring a stay of discovery whenever a motion to dismiss is filed should be rejected.[120]  My proposal would limit the impact of the Iqbal decision’s broad statements regarding discovery prior to resolution of any motions to dismiss, and it would empower judges to stay discovery when appropriate without unduly presenting a barrier to litigants seeking to enforce their rights through the courts.

C.     Difficulties with My Proposal

Although my proposal does not solve all of the difficult issues related to discovery stays and motions to dismiss, it does represent a positive step forward over the current state of the law.  The proposal still relies on district and magistrate judges to exercise their discretion, but such reliance is justified based on the experience that those judges have in managing the discovery process.  Furthermore, this reliance on judicial discretion also allows the system to retain flexibility to address discovery stays on a case-by-case basis to reduce the risk of harm due to either delay or unnecessary discovery costs.

Although reliance on judicial discretion does sacrifice predictability, that concern will be lessened by the greater consistency and transparency under my proposal.  When judges explicitly state what factors they are considering, and how different factors affect their weighing of competing interests, they thereby provide helpful signals to other judges and to parties regarding when a discovery stay is appropriate.

My proposal does not address other concerns related to the length of time taken for motions to dismiss to be resolved.  It does not address the underlying costs of discovery or any methods for increasing the efficiency of that process.

One potential concern is that by encouraging judges to take a “preliminary peek” at a motion to dismiss, this will encourage a “lock-in” effect, such that judges are more likely to confirm their preliminary view of the motion to dismiss, regardless of whether a more considered evaluation later might change their minds.[121]  The lock-in effect has been discussed in other areas of the law,[122] and to a greater extent in the economics literature.[123]  While I believe that this concern does have some merit, nevertheless I think the preliminary peek is appropriate to use in those cases where the risk of harm is relatively high.  Any potential lock-in effect is mitigated by the fact that, properly applied, the preliminary peek test does not require the judge to decide if the motion to dismiss should be granted, but rather simply allows the judge to “tip the scales” on the motion to stay based on a rough assessment of the strength of the motion to dismiss.

One final difficulty is that the Supreme Court explicitly rejected a “careful case management” approach taken by the lower courts to limit the intrusiveness of discovery in Iqbal.  My proposal, arguably, represents an example of the careful case management approach.  However, as discussed above, Iqbal does not preclude my proposal, and should not influence judges to more often apply an auto-stay standard when a motion to dismiss is filed.[124]

Overall, my proposal represents important progress toward improving judicial management of the discovery process in federal civil litigation.  The framework my proposal provides will enable judges to rationally decide what standard is most appropriate based on the particular details of the case before them.  The selective use of the preliminary peek approach will enable courts to reduce the risk of error where that risk is more significant while conserving scarce judicial resources when the risk of error is not as great.  Greater transparency by judges in deciding to grant a discovery stay will also promote consistency and will provide useful guidance to the parties seeking or opposing a discovery stay in their own cases.

Conclusion: Areas for Further Inquiry

My investigation into this issue thus far has raised more questions than it has answered.  How frequently are motions to stay discovery filed subsequent to the filing of a motion to dismiss?  How frequently are discovery stays granted?  Do these frequencies vary by jurisdiction, by judge, or by type of case?  Are discovery stays sought at higher rates in cases or jurisdictions where motions to dismiss are more likely to be either filed or granted?  Conversely, are motions to dismiss more likely to be filed in jurisdictions or in cases where discovery stays are likely to be granted?  To address these and related questions, a closer quantitative analysis of court dockets is required.  I intend to investigate these and other related issues.

A subsequent study will also delve deeper into the impact of the Iqbal decision, going beyond direct citations by judges in deciding motions to stay.  Some studies have already investigated whether Iqbal has impacted the rates of motions to dismiss being filed and their being granted or denied.[125]  One study by staff at the Federal Judicial Center indicates a general increase in rates of filing of motions to dismiss for failure to state a claim.[126]  The same study did not find an increase in the rate of grants of such motions to dismiss.[127]  My research will supplement this work by extending the analysis to cover impacts on the filing of motions to stay and their ultimate success.  I have identified several questions for further study.  Are parties more likely to file motions to stay due to pending motions to dismiss after Iqbal?  Are courts more likely to grant discovery stays post-Iqbal?  To what extent can differences in the likelihood of motions to stay being granted be used to explain any changes in the prevalence of motions to dismiss?


       *   Environmental Law Clinic Fellow, University of Denver Sturm College of Law, [email protected].  I would like to thank those who provided feedback on earlier drafts of this Article, especially Tammy Kuennen, Brittany Glidden, Lindsey Webb, Eric Franklin, Alan Chen, and Beto Juárez, as well as the participants in the 2010 Clinical Law Review Writer’s Workshop.

      [1].   Reliable data regarding the frequency of cases in which a stay of discovery occurs are lacking.  I intend, as discussed below in the Conclusion, to address some of the many empirical questions raised by this issue in the future.  However, given the large number of published and unpublished opinions available by searching Westlaw or other commercial databases, it is reasonable to assume that motions to stay discovery are fairly common in cases where a motion to dismiss is filed.

      [2].   Estimates for litigation costs associated with discovery vary, yet the estimates typically assert that more than half of all litigation costs are due to discovery.  In 1999, the Administrative Office of the U.S. Courts estimated that discovery represented 50% of the litigation costs in an ordinary case, and up to 90% in cases where discovery is actively used.  Judicial Conference Adopts Rules Changes, Confronts Projected Budget Shortfalls, Third Branch (Admin. Office of the U.S. Courts, D.C.) Oct. 1999, at 1, 2–3, available at http://www.uscourts.gov/News/TheThirdBranch/99‑10‑01/Judicial_Conference
_Adopts_Rules_Changes_Confronts_Projected_Budget_Shortfalls.aspx.  The common view is that this percentage has only increased as more information is available through e-discovery.  See, e.g., Shira A. Schiendlin & Jeffrey Rabkin, Electronic Discovery in Federal Civil Litigation: Is Rule 34 Up to the Task?, 41 B.C. L. Rev. 327, 341 (2000) (referring to an “explosion of electronic evidence”); see also Edward D. Cavanagh, Twombly, The Federal Rules of Civil Procedure and the Courts, 82 St. John’s L. Rev. 877, 887 (2008) (noting that courts have authority under the Rules to “rein in potentially expensive e-discovery”).  Some even assert that the costs of litigation exceed the amount in controversy in all but the largest cases.  See Lawyers for Civil Justice, Civil Justice Reform Grp. & U.S. Chamber Inst. for Legal Reform, Litigation Cost Survey of Major Companies 2 (2010).

      [3].   See the discussion at infra Part V.A.

      [4].   John S. Beckerman, Confronting Civil Discovery’s Fatal Flaws, 84 Minn. L. Rev. 505, 513–14 (2000).

      [5].   Id. at 514.

      [6].   See, e.g., Fed. R. Civ. P. 26(f), 37(a)(1).

      [7].   A decision on a motion to stay discovery would be “wrong” or would create “error” when it either stays discovery in a case that ultimately survives the motion to dismiss (a “false positive”) or when it allows discovery in a case where the motion to dismiss is ultimately granted (a “false negative”).

      [8].   Fed. R. Civ. P. 1.

      [9].   Fed. R. Civ. P. 26(c)(1)(A); see, e.g., Brazos Valley Coal. for Life, Inc. v. City of Bryan, 421 F.3d 314, 327 (5th Cir. 2005).

    [10].   Stays of discovery might occur or be requested outside of the context where a motion to dismiss is pending, such as when a motion for summary judgment has been filed or when some nondispostive matter like a denied intervention request has been appealed.  However, for the purposes of this Article, when I refer to “discovery stays” or “motions to stay discovery,” I am limiting my discussion to instances where a motion to dismiss is pending unless otherwise noted.

    [11].   Two recent articles address the subject of discovery when a motion to dismiss is pending, although they do not analyze the standards that judges use to decide whether or not to grant a stay of discovery.  See Edward A. Hartnett, Taming Twombly, Even After Iqbal, 158 U. Penn. L. Rev. 473 (2010); David L. Noll, The Indeterminacy of Iqbal, 99 Geo. L.J. 117, 141–43 (2010) (mentioning a few district court decisions addressing discovery stays).  A search of the JLR database on Westlaw reveals many articles discussing stays of discovery in the securities litigation context, discussed infra Part II.A.1, which is controlled by statute and not the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure, as well as a few other special cases such as antitrust or civil cases with related criminal proceedings pending.  I have been unable to find any broad discussion of stays of discovery in federal civil litigation that examine the standards judges use to exercise their discretion.  Even civil procedure textbooks largely do not cover this topic, and treatises on civil procedure provide only a cursory treatment.  See, e.g., 8A Charles Alan Wright, Arthur R. Miller & Richard L. Marcus, Federal Practice and Procedure § 2046.1 n.15 (3d ed. 2010).  It seems that the first time a young lawyer would encounter this situation is when it comes up in one of her cases, and in that situation the lawyer would not have any good resources to turn to that attempt to make sense of the variety of standards that judges apply, if any are explicitly applied at all.

    [12].   See James S. Kakalik et al., Discovery Management: Further Analysis of the Civil Justice Reform Act Evaluation Data, 39 B.C. L. Rev. 613, 637 (1998) (“The average lawyer work hours per litigant is 232 hours, of which an average of 36%, or 83 hours, is spent on discovery, including discovery motions.”).

    [13].   See Edward Brunet, Debunking Wholesale Private Enforcement of Environmental Rights, 15 Harv. J.L. & Pub. Pol’y 311, 314 (1992) (noting the inevitable increase in discovery costs in environmental litigation due to the need for expert witnesses in this area).

    [14].   See generally Robert D. Cooter & Daniel L. Rubinfeld, Reforming the New Discovery Rules, 84 Geo. L.J. 61, 61–62 (1995) (proposing cost-shifting reform to discovery rules that internalizes discovery costs and promotes efficiency in the discovery process).

    [15].   Scott A. Moss, Litigation Discovery Cannot Be Optimal but Could Be Better: The Economics of Improving Discovery Timing in a Digital Age, 58 Duke L.J. 889, 894 (2009) (noting that “e-discovery can cost tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars in even fairly typical cases”).

    [16].   Judith A. McKenna & Elizabeth C. Wiggins, Empirical Research on Civil Discovery, 39 B.C. L. Rev. 785, 797 (1998).

    [17].   See, e.g., Emery G. Lee III & Thomas E. Willging, Defining the Problem of Cost in Federal Civil Litigation, 60 Duke. L.J. 765, 769–76 (2010).

    [18].   See, e.g., Brookings Inst., Justice for All: Reducing Costs and Delay in Civil Litigation: Report of a Task Force (1989).

    [19].   Delays increase the costs associated with litigation, which discourages injured plaintiffs from filing suit.  Additionally, the notion that “justice delayed is justice denied” rings true for many because delay reduces the value of winning a civil suit, increases the burden of losing, and imposes opportunity costs.  Carrie E. Johnson, Rocket Dockets: Reducing Delay in Federal Civil Litigation, 85 Cal. L. Rev. 225, 230–31 (1997).

    [20].   The monthly percentage of motions to dismiss granted compared to motions to dismiss filed was typically less than 40% and never more than 47% from January 2007 to October 2009.  See Motions to Dismiss, Admin. Office of the U.S. Courts (Apr. 13, 2010), http://www.uscourts.gov/uscourts
/RulesAndPolicies/rules/Motions%20to%20Dismiss_042710.pdf.

    [21].   An interesting example can be seen in some of the litigation that has arisen out of the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico.  An environmental group challenged the Department of Interior’s position that excluded individual offshore drilling projects from a complete review under the National Environmental Policy Act.  A stay of discovery was sought by both the environmental group and the Department of Interior in order to give them time to narrow the claims through settlement discussions.  Plaintiff’s and Federal Defendants’ Joint Motion for Stay, Center for Biological Diversity v. Salazar, No. 1:10-cv-00816-HHK (D.D.C. Aug. 17, 2010), ECF No. 29.  Industry groups opposed the stay based on their desire to see the uncertainty created by the litigation resolved as quickly as possible.  Intervenors’ Response to Joint Motion for Stay, Center for Biological Diversity v. Salazar, No. 1:10-cv-00816-HHK (D.D.C. Aug. 20, 2010), ECF No. 31.  The court granted the stay until October 29, 2010, but this situation shows how the interests of parties who are not plaintiffs or defendants might be implicated in decisions on discovery stays.  See Plaintiff’s and Federal Defendants’ Joint Motion for Extension of the Temporary Stay at 2, Center for Biological Diversity v. Salazar, No. 1:10-cv-00816-HHK (D.D.C. Sept. 28, 2010), ECF No. 40.

    [22].   Justice Cardozo stated:

[T]he power to stay proceedings is incidental to the power inherent in every court to control the disposition of the causes on its docket with economy of time and effort for itself, for counsel, and for litigants.  How this can best be done calls for the exercise of judgment which must weigh competing interests and maintain an even balance.

Landis v. N. Am. Co., 299 U.S. 248, 254–55 (1936).

    [23].   See, e.g., String Cheese Incident, LLC v. Stylus Shows, Inc., No. 1:02-CV-01934-LTB-PA, 2006 WL 894955, at *2 (D. Colo. Mar. 30, 2006).

    [24].   Fed. R. Civ. P. 26(c).

    [25].   See, e.g., Wood v. McEwen, 644 F.2d 797, 801 (9th Cir. 1981); In re FirstEnergy S’holder Derivative Litig., 219 F.R.D. 584, 587 (N.D. Ohio 2004).

    [26].   Conceivably, a court could also issue an order staying discovery in a case sua sponte, although I have not come across such a situation, at least in the general context.  However, it is not difficult to conceive of situations where this might occur, such as when a magistrate judge issues a report and recommendation on a motion to dismiss or is faced with a motion to compel or for a protective order.  The court’s own interest in avoiding presiding over discovery disputes, the public’s interest, or the court’s dim view of a case’s prospects for surviving the motion to dismiss might all support a court in issuing a stay of discovery of its own accord.

    [27].   Stays of discovery also need not be granted after a written motion is filed with the court or even after an oral motion.  Stays of discovery can effectively be determined by judicial approval of a scheduling order that either keys discovery deadlines off of resolution of the motion to dismiss, or simply sets deadlines sufficiently far out that the parties need not commence discovery until after the motion to dismiss has been decided.  Stays of this kind will almost always be affected without a written opinion from the court explaining the reasons why a stay was or was not granted in a particular case.  Such reasons could conceivably be discussed by the magistrate judge during the scheduling conference, although I expect that in most of those instances, only the judge knows what factors, if any, were considered in reaching her decision.

    [28].   See, e.g., Jarvis v. Regan, 833 F.2d 149, 155 (9th Cir. 1987).

    [29].   See, e.g., Tamburo v. Dworkin, No. 04 C 3317, 2010 WL 4867346, at *1–2 (N.D. Ill. Nov. 17, 2010).

    [30].   Harlow v. Fitzgerald, 457 U.S. 800, 818 (1982); see also Ashcroft v. Iqbal, 129 S. Ct. 1937, 1953–54 (2009).

    [31].   See Private Securities Reform Act of 1995, Pub. L. No. 104-67, § 101(a), 109 Stat. 737, 741 (codified as amended at 15 U.S.C. 77z-1(b) (2006)).

    [32].   See Steinbuch v. Cutler, 518 F.3d 580, 588–89 (8th Cir. 2008).  Only in rare cases will appellate courts overturn a stay of discovery.  See, e.g., Clinton v. Jones, 520 U.S. 681, 693–96, 706–09 (1997) (failing to grant then–President Clinton immunity for unofficial conduct and finding that “a lengthy and categorical stay takes no account whatever of the respondent’s interest in bringing the case to trial”).

    [33].   See, e.g., Ameritel Inns v. Moffat Bros. Plastering, L.C., CV 06-359-S-EJL, 2007 WL 1792323, at *2 (D. Idaho June 20, 2007); Feldman v. Flood, 176 F.R.D. 651, 652 (M.D. Fla. 1997).

    [34].   Professor Hartnett has pointed this out as well: “Not only do district courts have broad and largely unreviewable discretion regarding the scope of discovery prior to a decision on a 12(b)(6) motion, but that discretion is frequently exercised in chambers, with scant (if any) explanation of the basis for the decision.”  Hartnett,supra note 11, at 514.  I have conducted my own preliminary research to find appellate cases that discuss both discovery stays and motions to dismiss in the same paragraph.  Out of 5918 cases returned from a search of the ALLFEDS database in Westlaw using the terms “‘motion to dismiss’ & stay! /2 discovery” (as of March 9, 2012), only 626 cases were in the Courts of Appeals and 7 in the Supreme Court.  I have not yet conducted an analysis to determine what portion of those appellate decisions resulted in the court overturning the district court’s decision as an abuse of discretion, but based on my initial review of the cases, I suspect it will be extremely low.

    [35].   See, e.g., O’Donnell v. United States, 112 Fed. App’x 36, 37 (Fed. Cir. 2004) (finding that appeal of an order staying discovery pending resolution of a motion to dismiss does not fall under the collateral order doctrine for interlocutory appeals).

    [36].   I am aware of at least two cases where this occurred, based on my experience in clinical practice, and I assume that motions to stay are frequently decided by other courts without issuing a written opinion.  When no record of the judge’s reasoning exists, it is impossible to say what standards were applied.  Whether a more complete record would indicate greater or lesser uniformity of standards is not known.  It is theoretically possible to determine just how frequently a motion to stay is decided without a record of the judge’s reasoning, based on a review of docket entries in the PACER database, but such analysis is outside the scope of this Article.

    [37].   The parties might agree to stay discovery until the motion to dismiss is decided.  I am aware of at least one such case, in which I am an attorney of record.  SeeJoint Motion to Vacate Scheduling Conference and Requirement that Parties Submit Confidential Settlement Statements at 2, WildEarth Guardians v. Pub. Serv. Co. of Colo., 805 F. Supp. 2d 1134 (D. Colo. 2011) (No. 1:09-cv-01576).  The judge however might also decide a conflict between the parties in issuing a scheduling order, and this could be the equivalent of deciding a motion to stay.  However, a judge is even less likely to issue a written order explaining his decision making with regard to a scheduling order than the same judge would be in deciding a motion to stay discovery.

    [38].   According to the 2010 Annual Report of the Administrative Office of U.S. Courts, 1105 of 282,895 cases commenced during the twelve-month period ending September 30, 2010, were classified as “Securities, Commodities, and Exchanges” cases based on federal question jurisdiction.  Admin. Office of the U.S. Courts, Judicial Business of the U.S. Courts 144 tbl.C-2 (2010), available at http://www.uscourts.gov/uscourts/Statistics/JudicialBusiness/2010
/JudicialBusinespdfversion.pdf.  That amounts to less than one-half of one percent of all federal cases.

    [39].   Congress did however leave courts with the discretion to lift the stay when necessary to preserve evidence or prevent undue prejudice to a party.  15 U.S.C. § 77z-1(b)(1), 78u-4(b)(3)(B) (2006).

    [40].   Richard H. Walker et al., The New Securities Class Action: Federal Obstacles, State Detours, 39 Ariz. L. Rev. 641, 641 (1997).

    [41].   Hillary A. Sale, Heightened Pleading and Discovery Stays: An Analysis of the Effect of the PSLRA’s Internal-Information Standard on ‘33 and ‘34 Act Claims, 76 Wash. U. L. Q. 537, 552–53 (1998) (internal quotation marks omitted).

    [42].   457 U.S. 800 (1982).

    [43].   See id. at 818; see also Hartnett, supra note 11, at 511 (noting that the Supreme Court has not extended auto-stay beyond qualified immunity).

    [44].   Indeed, that case involved “extensive discovery” and the appeal was made following a ruling on motions for summary judgment.  Harlow, 457 U.S. at 802–06.

    [45].   Id. at 818.

    [46].   129 S. Ct. 1937 (2009).

    [47].   Id. at 1950.

    [48].   Id. at 1953.

    [49].   Id. at 1945 (citing Iqbal v. Hasty, 490 F.3d 143, 179 (2d Cir. 2007) (Cabranes, J., concurring)).  Both Judge Cabranes and the Supreme Court noted that this concern was in the context of a defendant who was a high-ranking government official, entitled to assert qualified immunity, who was dealing with “a national and international security emergency unprecedented in the history of the American Republic.”  Id. at 1953 (quoting Hasty, 490 F.3d at 179 (Cabranes, J., concurring)).  This national security issue may well provide sufficient justification for lower courts to limit the applicability of the statements from Iqbal to other contexts that do not implicate terrorism.

    [50].   See, e.g., Robin J. Effron, The Plaintiff Neutrality Principle: Pleading Complex Litigation in the Era of Twombly and Iqbal, 51 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 1997 (2010); Adam Liptak, Case About 9/11 Could Lead to a Broad Shift on Civil Lawsuits, N.Y. Times, Jul. 21, 2009, at A10; Lyle Denniston, Analysis: New Obstacles to Wartime Challenges, SCOTUSblog, (Jul. 4, 2009, 4:09 PM), http://www.scotusblog.com/2009/07/analysis‑new‑obstacles‑to‑wartime‑challenges; see also Iqbal Project, Public Justice, http://www.publicjustice.net/Key
-Issues-Cases/Access-To-Justice/Iqbal-Project.aspx (last visited Mar. 9, 2010) (noting that some defendants now argue that many statements are too conclusory to satisfy the new pleading standards).  As of March 2012, a search of the JLR database on Westlaw returns 219 entries that contain either “Twombly” or “Iqbal” in the title, and surely far more discuss those cases in some detail.

    [51].   The Supreme Court’s pronouncements in Iqbal, particularly the statements about the high burden of discovery and the suspicion with which claims are viewed pending motions to dismiss, have the potential to (1) encourage judges to more often automatically stay discovery; (2) balance harms after a preliminary peek at the motion to dismiss; and (3) alter the balance among the five factors (discussed infra at Part II.B) for resolving a motion to stay without prejudging the motion to dismiss.  An expansive reading of Iqbal could lead courts to place more emphasis on the burdens of discovery on defendants or on the potential for expending resources (by the defendants or the court) on discovery activities and disputes in a case that ultimately may be dismissed.  This would have the effect of diminishing the interests of plaintiffs in proceeding expeditiously with their cases in the balancing of factors.  Judges, particularly the magistrate judges who typically decide motions to stay, may be influenced by their own views of the likelihood of success of the motions to dismiss.  Such assessments of the motions to dismiss would amount to courts essentially adding a sixth factor to the balancing test, perhaps doing so without acknowledging its potentially significant impact.  Whether courts will ultimately alter their approaches to resolving a motion to stay—either explicitly citing to Iqbal or giving effect to the decision in an unacknowledged manner—remains to be seen.  More time is needed for the effects of Iqbal to become fully apparent in lower court decisions and in briefing by litigants.  The risk, however, is present and very real.  And as I argue in Part IV.B, a better approach is to disfavor a stay unless a good cause can be shown.

    [52].   The ALLFEDS database was queried using the search terms “iqbal /p stay /p discovery.”  This search was last run on March 9, 2012, producing the twenty-seven relevant matches.

    [53].   Indeed, the one circuit court decision available to date agreed that the district court properly stayed discovery while a motion to dismiss was pending, noting that “[i]n certain circumstances it may be appropriate to stay discovery while evaluating a motion to dismiss where, if the motion is granted, discovery would be futile.”  Mann v. Brenner, 375 Fed. App’x 232, 239 (3d Cir. 2010) (citing Iqbal, 129 S. Ct. at 1954).  One magistrate judge in the Southern District of Ohio has authored three of the twenty-one cases citing Iqbal in this context, and he has noted that “[t]he Supreme Court’s recent decision in [Iqbal] will undoubtedly give the Court more opportunities to consider” whether “to stay discovery during the pendency of some type of defensive motion.”  Charvat v. NMP, LLC, No. 2:09-cv-209, 2009 WL 3210379, at *1 (S.D. Ohio Sept. 30, 2009).  The same magistrate stated that Iqbal “breaks no new ground” on this issue.  Id.  Other courts have reached the conclusion that Bell Atlantic Corp. v. Twombly, 550 U.S. 544 (2007), and Iqbal do not require a stay of discovery every time a motion to dismiss is filed.  See, e.g., Tamburo v. Dworkin, No. 04 C 3317, 2010 WL 4867346, at *2 (N.D. Ill. Nov. 17, 2010).  However, the extent of the ultimate effect of Iqbal remains largely unknown at this time and will remain so until sufficient time passes for the lower courts to react to the decision.

    [54].   For a contrary view, see generally Scott Dodson, New Pleading, New Discovery, 109 Mich. L. Rev. 53, 72–88 (2010) (arguing that presuit discovery should be limited in order to “counteract the information asymmetry and overscreening caused by Twombly and Iqbal”).

    [55].   See, e.g., Solomon Realty Co. v. Tim Donut U.S. Ltd., Inc., No. 2:08-cv-561, 2009 WL 2485992, at *3 (S.D. Ohio Aug. 11, 2009).

    [56].   123 F.3d 1353 (11th Cir. 1997).

    [57].   Id. at 1367.

    [58].   Id. (footnote omitted) (citation omitted).

    [59].   E.g., Redford v. Gwinnett Cty. Judicial Cir., 350 Fed. App’x 341, 346 (11th Cir. 2009) (citing Chudasama and finding that the magistrate did not abuse discretion in staying discovery).

    [60].   See, e.g., Moore v. Shands Jacksonville Med. Ctr., Inc., No. 3:09-cv-298-J-34TEM, 2009 WL 4899400, at *1–2 (M.D. Fla. Dec. 11, 2009) (citing Chudasamabut then applying the “preliminary peek” test to determine whether stay should be granted); McCabe v. Foley, 233 F.R.D. 683, 685 (M.D. Fla. 2006) (citingChudasama but saying that challenges to the legal sufficiency of a claim should “often” be resolved before discovery begins, and then applying the “preliminary peek” test).

    [61].   See, e.g., Gannon v. Flood, No. 08-60059-CIV, 2008 WL 793682, at *1 (S.D. Fla. Mar. 24, 2008) (noting that Chudasama “does not indicate a broad rule that discovery should be deferred whenever there is a pending motion to dismiss”); S.K.Y. Mgmt. L.L.C. v. Greenshoe, Ltd., No. 06-21722-CIV, 2007 WL 201258, at *1–2 (S.D. Fla. Jan. 24, 2007) (distinguishing Chudasama because this case was “a straightforward commercial case” and instead conducting preliminary review of legal issues in motion to dismiss).

    [62].   In some cases the court will not explicitly discuss all of these factors, but may instead only note a few factors that the court deems to be particularly relevant.  It is not clear whether the court is actually considering, but dismissing as irrelevant, the other factors, or whether the court is only looking at the factors that it mentions in its written decision.  Some courts have listed different factors as well:

In considering whether a stay of all discovery pending the outcome of a dispositive motion is warranted, a case-by-case analysis is required, since such an inquiry is necessarily fact-specific and depends on the particular circumstances and posture of each case.  To assist in this determination, the Court is guided by the following factors, none of which is singly dispositive: the type of motion and whether it is a challenge as a “matter of law” or to the “sufficiency” of the allegations; the nature and complexity of the action; whether counterclaims and/or cross-claims have been interposed; whether some or all of the defendants join in the request for a stay; the posture or stage of the litigation; the expected extent of discovery in light of the number of parties and complexity of the issues in the case; and any other relevant circumstances.

Hachette Distrib., Inc. v. Hudson Cnty. News Co., 136 F.R.D. 356, 358 (E.D.N.Y. 1991).

    [63].   Springfield Twp. v. Kuss, No. CIV. A. 93-1629, 1993 WL 430421, at *1 (E.D. Pa. Oct. 21, 1993); see also Avalonbay Cmtys., Inc. v. San Jose Water Conservation Corp., No. 07-306, 2007 WL 2481291, at *2 (E.D. Va. Aug. 27, 2007); In re Mid-Atlantic Toyota Antitrust Litig., 92 F.R.D. 358, 359 (D. Md. 1981); Golden Quality Ice Cream Co. v. Deerfield Specialty Papers, Inc., 87 F.R.D. 53, 56 (E.D. Pa. 1980).

    [64].   Jackson v. Denver Water Bd., No. 08-cv-01984-MSK-MEH, 2008 WL 5233787, at *1 (D. Colo. Dec. 15, 2008) (staying case could result in delay and attendant “adverse consequences such as a decrease in evidentiary quality and witness availability”).

    [65].   See, e.g., Hoxie v. Livingston Cnty., No. 09-CV-10725, 2010 WL 822401, *1 (E.D. Mich. Mar. 4, 2010) (“The wheels of justice would surely grind to a halt if discovery were stayed pending dispositive motions and based on such generic allegations of undue burden and expensive.”); Standard Bank PLC v. Vero Ins., Ltd., No. 08-cv-02127-PAB-BNB, 2009 WL 82494, at *2 (D. Colo. Jan. 13 2009) (“Parties always are burdened when they engage in litigation, whether the case ultimately is dismissed; summary judgment is granted; the case is settled; or a trial occurs.  That is a consequence of our judicial system and the rules of civil procedure.  There is nospecial burden on the parties in this case.” (emphasis added)).

    [66].   S.K.Y. Mgmt. L.L.C. v. Greenshoe, Ltd., No. 06-21722-CIV, 2007 WL 201258, at *1 (S.D. Fla. Jan. 24, 2007) (distinguishing from other cases where there was a risk of “needless and extensive discovery”).

    [67].   See Roueche v. United States, No. 09-cv-00048-WDM-BNB, 2010 WL 420040, at *2 (D. Colo. Feb. 1, 2010) (noting “the general interests of controlling the court’s docket and the fair and speedy administration of justice”); Simpson v. Specialty Retail Concepts, Inc., 121 F.R.D. 261, 263 (M.D.N.C. 1988) (noting that motions to stay “are not favored because when discovery is delayed or prolonged it can create case management problems which impede the Court’s responsibility to expedite discovery and cause unnecessary litigation expenses and problems”).

    [68].   See, e.g., Feldman v. Flood, 176 F.R.D. 651, 652–53 (M.D. Fla. 1997) (“[I]t is necessary for the Court to ‘take a preliminary peek’ at the merits of the motion to dismiss to see if it appears to be clearly meritorious and truly case dispositive.”); Simpson, 121 F.R.D. at 263 (“It may be helpful to take a preliminary peek at the merits of the allegedly dispositive motion to see if on its face there appears to be an immediate and clear possibility that it will be granted.”).

    [69].   An analogy to the test for a preliminary injunction is readily apparent.  In both cases, the court looks to make a preliminary assessment of the merits when also considering the potential harm that might result if the requested relief is not granted.  However, the discovery stay context is, appropriately, treated differently because of the nature of the interests at stake.  First, in the discovery stay context, the risk of harm cuts both ways, or at least the court gives consideration to harm on both sides of the issue.  Second, likelihood that the motion to dismiss will be denied is not necessary for discovery to proceed.  Thus, the discovery stay example is closer to the “sliding scale” approach to preliminary injunctions favored by the Ninth Circuit, but even so, discovery stays present unique issues not involved when a preliminary injunction is sought.  However, the similarities are not irrelevant, and indeed I argue in Part IV, infra, where there is a risk of irreparable harm due to delaying discovery (analogous to the requirement for irreparable harm for a preliminary injunction), then the court should apply a preliminary peek in order to reduce the risk of error.

    [70].   Judges do not explicitly say whether they give equal weight to both sides of the balancing, and indeed it is not difficult to imagine that some or all judges might put more weight on one side of the scale or the other, based on their experience on the bench, views regarding the costs of discovery, or views toward particular types of cases or particular parties.  But presumably they do attempt to roughly balance the competing interests at least somewhat evenly.  However, because the costs of discovery do not share a common metric with the risk of spoliation of evidence or of irreparable harm, judges are essentially comparing apples to oranges, and thus the balancing involves a significant amount of judicial discretion that can be expected to vary from case to case and from judge to judge.

    [71].   While extreme, this position would have a sound basis in the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure, which do not provide for a stay of all discovery, but instead allow for courts to issue a protective order upon a showing of good cause.  Fed. R. Civ. P. 26(c)(1).  However, the Rules do not specifically address any number of actions that courts take on a regular basis, and regardless, I agree with Justice Cardozo’s pronouncement that deciding whether to stay discovery is part of a court’s “inherent authority” to manage the cases before it.  Landis v. N. Am. Co., 299 U.S. 248, 254–55 (1936).

    [72].   See, e.g., Jackson v. Denver Water Bd., No. 08-cv-01984-MSK-MEH, 2008 WL 5233787, at *1 (D. Colo. Dec. 15, 2008) (“Generally, it is the policy in this district not to stay discovery pending a ruling on motions to dismiss.”); Steil v. Humana Health Care Plans, Inc., No. CIV. A. 99 2541 KHV, 2000 WL 730428, at *1 (D. Kan. May 1, 2000) (“The District of Kansas generally disfavors motions to stay discovery.”).

    [73].   See, e.g., Turner Broad. Sys., Inc. v. Tracinda Corp., 175 F.R.D. 554, 556 (D. Nev. 1997) (“[A] pending Motion to Dismiss is not ordinarily a situation that in and of itself would warrant a stay of discovery.”).

    [74].   See Steil, 2000 WL 730428, at *1 (“Absent some compelling reason, the Court will not stay discovery.”).

    [75].   As an example, a judge in Florida cited the plaintiff’s status as a serial litigator, and one who regularly loses motions to dismiss, as part of the basis for granting a motion to stay discovery in the case.  Moore v. Shands Jacksonville Med. Ctr., Inc., No. 3:09-cv-298-J-34TEM, 2009 WL 4899400, at *2 (M.D. Fla. Dec. 11, 2009).

    [76].   See supra Part II.A.

    [77].   See, e.g., Ashcroft v. Iqbal, 129 S. Ct. 1937, 1953 (2009); see also Dynamic Image Techs., Inc. v. United States, 221 F.3d 34, 38 (1st Cir. 2000) (noting that “uncontrolled discovery poses a special threat” when directed at federal government officials and that “compelling public policy reasons support stringent limitations on discovery pending resolution of threshold jurisdictional questions”).

    [78].   See supra Part II.A.2.

    [79].   Iqbal, 129 S. Ct. at 1953.

    [80].   See generally Marc Galanter, The Emergence of Judge as Mediator in Civil Case, 69 Judicature 257 (1986); Marc Galanter & Mia Cahill, “Most Cases Settle”: Judicial Promotion and Regulation of Settlements, 46 Stan. L. Rev. 1339 (1994).

    [81].   The Seventh Circuit has even referred to “settlement extortion—using discovery to impose asymmetric costs on defendants in order to force a settlement advantageous to the plaintiff regardless of the merits of his suit.”  Am. Bank v. City of Menasha, 627 F.3d 261, 266 (7th Cir. 2010) (discussing one of the purposes of the Private Securities Litigation Reform Act).  Yet on the flip side, defendants routinely use discovery tactically in Title VII employment discrimination cases to force settlements.

    [82].   See, e.g., Maurice Rosenberg, Federal Rules of Civil Procedure in Action: Assessing Their Impact, 137 U. Pa. L. Rev. 2197, 2198 (1989).  Although the utility of the discovery process in promoting settlement is disputed by some, see, for example, William A. Glaser, Pretrial Discovery and the Adversary System 91–101 (1968) (reporting that the available data do not clearly support the commonly-held view that discovery promotes settlement), a recent “natural experiment” that occurred in Taiwan provides evidence to support the settlement-encouraging role of the discovery process in common law systems.  A study of settlement rates both before and after Taiwan implemented discovery practices comparable to those in the United States revealed that settlement rates increased over time following this reform.  See generally Kuo-Chang Huang, Does Discovery Promote Settlement? An Empirical Answer, 6 J. Empirical Legal Stud. 241 (2009).

    [83].   Twin City Fire Ins. Co. v. Emp’rs Ins. of Wausau, 124 F.R.D. 652, 653 (D. Nev. 1989).

    [84].   See Tamburo v. Dworkin, No. 04 C 3317, 2010 WL 4867346, at *1 (N.D. Ill. Nov. 17, 2010) (holding that a stay of discovery is generally appropriate when a party raises a potentially dispositive threshold issue such as a challenge to standing (citing U.S. Catholic Conference v. Abortion Rights Mobilization, Inc., 487 U.S. 72, 79–80 (1988)).

    [85].   Ellis v. Fortune Seas, Ltd., 175 F.R.D. 308, 312 (S.D. Ind. 1997) (holding that a threshold showing of jurisdiction is consistent with the district court’s obligation to control discovery).

    [86].   This statement is not based on any formal analysis at this time, but only on my initial review of a non-representative sample of cases.  A more formal analysis is required to answer such a question, as discussed infra Part V.C.

    [87].   See, e.g., Aponte-Torres v. Univ. of Puerto Rico, 445 F.3d 50, 59 (1st Cir. 2006) (holding that a stay of discovery is appropriate where plaintiff had an adequate opportunity to conduct discovery); Chatham Condo. Ass’n v. Century Village, Inc., 597 F.2d 1002, 1011–12 (5th Cir. 1979) (holding that dismissal for lack of subject matter jurisdiction without ample opportunity for discovery should be rare).

    [88].   See, e.g., Walk Haydel & Assocs., Inc. v. Coastal Power Prod. Co., 517 F.3d 235, 241–42 (5th Cir. 2008) (holding that the court has discretion in type and amount of discovery permitted).

    [89].   See S.K.Y. Mgmt. L.L.C. v. Greenshoe, Ltd., No 06-21722-CIV, 2007 WL 201258, at *2–3 (S.D. Fla. Jan. 24, 2007) (denying defendant’s motion to stay discovery because even if motion to dismiss is successful, remaining claim would result in much of the same discovery); see also Sprague v. Brook, 149 F.R.D. 575, 577 (N.D. Ill. 1993) (“A plaintiff’s right to discovery before a ruling on a motion to dismiss may be stayed when the requested discovery is unlikely to produce facts necessary to defeat the motion.”).  At least one court has even allowed discovery against defendants who asserted qualified immunity in a motion to dismiss because the defendants would also be fact witnesses in remaining claims not subject to the qualified immunity defense.  See Seeds of Peace Collective v. City of Pittsburgh, No. 09-1275, 2010 WL 2990734, at *3 (W.D. Pa. July 28, 2010) (explicitly discussing Iqbal).  However, the opposite view has been taken as well.  See, e.g., Eggert v. Chaffee Cnty., No. 10-cv-01320-CMA-KMT, 2010 WL 3359613, at *3 (D. Colo. Aug. 25, 2010) (citing Iqbal for the proposition that discovery in a suit with multiple defendants should be stayed entirely, even if only some of the defendants asserted immunity).

    [90].   See, e.g., Cohn v. Taco Bell Corp., 147 F.R.D. 154, 162 (N.D. Ill. 1993) (noting that a discovery stay is “particularly inappropriate in this case because . . . defendant’s motion [to dismiss] would not be dispositive of the entire case” and “all of the counts sound in the same alleged basic factual scenario”).

    [91].   This is not to say that there is no harm due to delay.  Particularly when the plaintiff does not have the same resources as the defendant, delay may add to the incentives for plaintiffs to settle or might make it impractical for the plaintiff to continue the lawsuit.  In this way, defendants are sometimes able to wait out plaintiffs who lack sufficient resources.  However, so long as the plaintiff is able to maintain the action and does not face undue pressures to settle for less than the case is worth, delays in cases dealing only with money damages do not prevent the plaintiff from fully recovering those damages.  This is not true in cases where the harm due to delay is irreparable.

    [92].   See, e.g., Computer Assocs. Int’l, Inc. v. Simple.com, Inc., 247 F.R.D. 63, 69 (E.D.N.Y. 2007); Hachette Distribution, Inc. v. Hudson Cnty. News Co., 136 F.R.D. 356, 358 (E.D.N.Y. 1991) (noting the “complexity of the action” as one factor to consider).

    [93].   Roueche v. United States, No. 09-cv-00048-WDM-BNB, 2010 WL 420040, at *1–2 (D. Colo. Feb. 1, 2010) (considering burden of discovery in “balancing of interests” test); Feldman v. Flood, 176 F.R.D. 651, 652–53 (M.D. Fla. 1997) (considering burden of discovery in “preliminary peek” test).

    [94].   One notable exception to this statement is in the Eleventh Circuit, where the court appears to make broad statements in support of an auto-stay rule, but lower courts pulled back from that in part because the Chudasama case was unusually complex and contentious.  See S.K.Y. Mgmt. L.L.C. v. Greenshoe, Ltd., No. 06-21722-CIV, 2007 WL 201258, at *1 (S.D. Fla. Jan. 24, 2007).

    [95].   Disentangling the complexity of a case from the “type of case” as discussed earlier is not necessarily easy.  There may be certain types of cases that are more likely to be more complex, or less complex, for example.  At the least, the type of case will likely have an impact on the type and amount of discovery involved.  SeeMcKenna & Wiggins, supra note 16, at 791.

    [96].   District judges may designate magistrates to “hear and determine any pretrial matter” with listed exceptions that include “motion[s] for injunctive relief, for judgment on the pleadings, for summary judgment” in addition to motions to dismiss for failure to state a claim.  28 U.S.C. § 636(b)(1)(A) (2006).  Magistrate judges may, however, conduct hearings, including evidentiary hearings, and submit proposed findings of fact and recommendations for disposition in any of the listed exceptions.  Id. § 636(b)(1)(B).  Parties may consent to having a magistrate exercise jurisdiction.  Id. § 636(c)(1).

    [97].   See, e.g., Roueche v. United States, No. 09-cv-00048-WDM-BNB, 2010 WL 420040, at *2 (D. Colo. Feb. 1, 2010).

    [98].   To the contrary, I am aware of at least one case where a magistrate judge explicitly applied the preliminary peek test.  Tradebay, LLC v. eBay, Inc., No. 2:11-cv-00702-ECR-PAL, 2011 WL 6182039 at *6 (D. Nev. Dec. 13, 2011).

    [99].   Inst. for the Advancement of the Am. Legal System, 21st Century Civil Justice System: A Roadmap for Reform: Pilot Project Rules 1(2009), available athttp://iaals.du.edu/images/wygwam/documents/publications/Pilot
_Project_Rules2009.pdf.

   [100].   Id. at 5.

   [101].   See, e.g., Press Release, Public Information Office, U.S. Courts for the Ninth Circuit, Justice Kennedy Joins Call for New Judgeships for Eastern California Court (Aug. 20, 2010), available at http://www.ca9.uscourts.gov
/datastore/general/2010/08/30/Justice_Kennedy_CAE_Remarks.pdf (calling attention to remarks from Justice Kennedy that the district needs more judgeships to be authorized by Congress).

   [102].   The debate between rules and standards is an old one that I will not reinvent here.  See e.g., Pierre Schlag, Rules and Standards, 33 UCLA L. Rev. 379 (1985).  As I argue in this Article, I believe that a standard is more appropriate than a rule in deciding motions to stay discovery.  This is consistent with Fed. R. Civ. P. 26(c), which allows judges to issue protective orders to prevent abusive discovery based on a showing of good cause.  Bright-line standards are much more likely to result in consistently over- or under-inclusive results.  Rules that always stay discovery in certain kinds of cases, such as shareholder derivative suits, will consistently err on the over-inclusive side because they will stay discovery in some number of cases where the motion to dismiss is denied (assuming at least some of the cases survive the motion to dismiss).  Rules that never stay discovery in certain cases would be similarly biased toward the under-inclusive side because they would result in “wasted” discovery when the motion to dismiss is granted, although as noted previously no court has taken such a hard-line approach at this end of the spectrum.

   [103].   The size of this grey area could even be quite significant, even for the great proportion of the cases, depending on the tolerance our society and our courts have for error in the discovery stay context.

   [104].   Of course if the judge decides both a motion to stay discovery and a motion to dismiss at the same time, there is no additional burden in applying a “preliminary peek” approach.  Yet deciding the motion to dismiss effectively moots the motion to stay discovery pending resolution of the motion to dismiss, so my analysis is focused instead on those cases where the judge decides a motion to stay discovery sometime before deciding the motion to dismiss.

   [105].   See Hartnett, supra note 11, at 507–13 (pointing out that the Supreme Court has only made such a statement in the context of qualified immunity, and could not make a blanket prohibition on discovery during a pending motion to dismiss in a way that is consistent with the plain text of the Federal Rules).

   [106].   See supra Part II.A.1.

   [107].   See supra Part II.A.2.

   [108].   This is not to say that delay cannot be a serious concern even when a plaintiff only seeks money damages, particularly when there are great resource disparities between the parties and one side can “wait out” the other, who is forced to give up on a potentially successful lawsuit.  However, the risk of harm is lessened because theoretically there is no irreparable harm, and any concerns over resource disparities can also be addressed through application of the balancing test.

   [109].   By this I do not mean that magistrate judges are incompetent to decide motions to dismiss, or even that they are necessarily less competent than district judges to make such rulings.

   [110].   Of course district judges might change their minds between their preliminary assessment and ultimate ruling on a motion to dismiss, so the preliminary peek does not completely eliminate the risk of error in deciding a motion to stay discovery.  However, it is reasonable to conclude that a magistrate judge and district judge are more likely to disagree than a district judge is to change her mind.

   [111].   These are longstanding complaints.  See, e.g., Maurice Rosenberg & Warren R. King, Curbing Discovery Abuse in Civil Litigation: Enough Is Enough, 1981 BYU L. Rev. 579 (citing conclusions of the Pound Conference and challenging the idea that “more is better” in the discovery context); Stephen N. Subrin, Fishing Expeditions Allowed: The Historical Background Of The 1938 Federal Discovery Rules, 39 B.C. L. Rev. 691 (1998).  Debates over discovery abuse continue to this day.  See generally John H. Beisner, Discovering a Better Way: The Need for Effective Civil Litigation Reform, 60 Duke L.J. 547 (2010); Rakesh N. Kilaru, Comment,The New Rule 12(b)(6): Twombly, Iqbal, and the Paradox of Pleading, 62 Stan. L. Rev. 905 (2010).

   [112].   See, e.g., Roadway Express, Inc. v. Piper, 447 U.S. 752, 757 n.4 (1980) (“[M]any actions are extended unnecessarily by lawyers who exploit or abuse judicial procedures, especially the liberal rules for pretrial discovery.”); Herbert v. Lando, 441 U.S. 153, 179 (1979) (Powell, J., concurring) (noting that discovery is “not infrequently exploited to the disadvantage of justice”); Am. Bank v. City of Menasha, 627 F.3d 261, 265–66 (7th Cir. 2010) (referring to the prevention of “settlement extortion” as the purpose of staying discovery); Frank H. Easterbrook, Discovery As Abuse, 69 B.U. L. Rev. 635 (1989).

   [113].   See, e.g., Linda S. Mullenix, Discovery in Disarray: The Pervasive Myth of Pervasive Discovery Abuse and the Consequences for Unfounded Rulemaking, 46 Stan. L. Rev. 1393 (1994).  Additionally, the potential for discovery abuse is not limited only to plaintiffs, as defendants may also engage in tactical use of discovery to harass plaintiffs, bury them in paper, or drive up the costs of litigation.  Such a situation can occur in the employment discrimination context, for example.

   [114].   Reliable quantification of discovery costs is difficult to measure, and most studies that do exist are rather dated and “perhaps more illustrative of the difficulties of such research than of the actual cost picture.”  McKenna & Wiggins, supra note 16, at 797; see also Emery G. Lee III & Thomas E. Willging, Fed. Judicial Ctr, Litigation Costs in Civil Cases: Multivariate Analysis 2 (2010) (“The point is obvious, but we state it for clarity’s sake: the model estimates presented in this section are only as good as the respondents’ reports of costs in the closed cases.”), available at http://www.uscourts.gov
/uscourts/RulesAndPolicies/rules/Duke%20Materials/Library/FJC,%20Litigation%20Costs%20in%20Civil%20Cases%20-%20Multivariate%20Analysis.pdf.

   [115].   See David M. Trubek et al., The Costs of Ordinary Litigation, 31 UCLA L. Rev. 72, 82 (1983).

   [116].   See supra Part II.A.

   [117].   See Walker et al., supra note 40, at 641–42.

   [118].   Ashcroft v. Iqbal, 129 S. Ct. 1937, 1951 (2009) (citing the response of law enforcement officials in the wake of the September 11 attacks).

   [119].   Harlow v. Fitzgerald, 457 U.S. 800, 807 (1982) (discussing the need for qualified immunity to protect presidential aides).

   [120].   See Hartnett, supra note 11, at 513.

   [121].   The comparison to the preliminary injunction test also comes to mind here, where a finding regarding the likelihood of success on the merits might affect the ultimate decision on the merits as well.

   [122].   See, e.g., Clayton P. Gillette, Lock-in Effects in Law and Norms, 78 B.U. L. Rev. 813 (1998).

   [123].   See, e.g., S.J. Liebowitz & Stephen E. Margolis, Path Dependence, Lock-In, and History, 11 J.L. Econ. & Org. 205 (1995).

   [124].   See supra Part V.B.

   [125].   For raw data, see Motions to Dismiss, supra note 20.

   [126].   Joe S. Cecil et al., Fed. Judicial Ctr., Motions to Dismiss for Failure to State a Claim After Iqbal 8–12 (2011), available athttp://www.fjc.gov/public/pdf.nsf/lookup/motioniqbal.pdf/$file/motioniqbal.pdf.

   [127].   Id. at 12–16.  The study did, however, find an increase in rates of dismissals for cases involving challenges to mortgage loans, although this trend may have been due to changes that occurred in the housing market at the same time.  Id. at 12–13.  For a critique of this study, see Lonny Hoffman, Twombly and Iqbal’s Measure: An Assessment of the Federal Judicial Center’s Study of Motions to Dismiss (Oct. 27, 2011) (unpublished manuscript), available athttp://ssrn.com/abstract=1904134

Lynch_LawReview_4.12

By: Benjamin P. Cooper*

Introduction

The Supreme Court’s decisions in Bell Atlantic Corp. v. Twombly[1] and Ashcroft v. Iqbal[2] represent a “philosophical sea change in American civil litigation.”[3]  Although the exact meaning of these cases remains the topic of vigorous debate, there is nearly universal agreement that the decisions have “revolutionized the law on pleading”[4] by shifting from a liberal notice pleading regime to a heightened “plausibility” paradigm[5] in which courts are empowered to dismiss complaints that are insufficiently detailed.[6]

Given the importance of these cases, it is not at all surprising that Twombly and Iqbal have produced a torrent of legal scholarship.[7]  That scholarship has covered a wide array of topics.  Many commentators have criticized the cases,[8] others have attempted to define more precisely what the Supreme Court meant in Iqbal and Twombly,[9] while still others have analyzed the disproportionate impact the decisions are having or may have on particular kinds of cases.[10]

Whatever the approach of these articles, they share one feature: they describe the Iqbal plausibility standard as “novel” in the modern era[11] and nearly devoid of any historical precedent.[12]  This Article challenges that conventional wisdom and argues that, although the post-Iqbal era is revolutionary (in the sense that it marks a sharp break with what immediately preceded it), it is not entirely new.  Rather, the current pleading regime bears a sharp resemblance to the turbulent period from 1983 to 1993, after Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 11 was amended to combat frivolous litigation and before Rule 11 was revised to its current form.  Specifically, the 1983 version of Rule 11 and Iqbal are similar in their motivation, implementation, and effects.

Just as the Supreme Court’s Twombly and Iqbal decisions were motivated by a concern about the costs of litigation,[13] the Advisory Committee amended Rule 11 in 1983 to address “the rising number of civil lawsuits and increasing costs and delay in litigation.”[14]  Under the 1983 version of Rule 11 (unlike the current rule), sanctions were mandatory and generally payable to the other side, the rule contained no “safe harbor provision” by which an attorney could withdraw an allegedly frivolous paper with no penalty, and, most significantly for present purposes, attorneys had to certify that any allegations in the complaint were “well grounded in fact.”[15]  Although the “well grounded in fact” language was directed at the sufficiency of the lawyer’s prefiling investigation and not to the sufficiency of the complaint, courts used the 1983 version of Rule 11 to dismiss complaints that were not sufficiently specific, and thereby “tighten[ed] the liberal pleading regime” set forth in Rule 8(a).[16]  Indeed, commentators criticized the 1983 version of Rule 11 because it “created a risk that the threat of the imposition of sanctions would promote a revival of fact pleading that was antithetical to the spirit (if not the letter) of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure.”[17]  This is precisely what scholars are saying about Iqbal today.[18]

The similarities do not end there, however.  The plausibility standard that is the hallmark of the post-Iqbal era was also used from 1983 to 1993.  Courts in that period examined the “plausibility” of the complaint as a factor in determining whether a complaint was sanctionable under the 1983 version of Rule 11 and, therefore, subject to dismissal.[19]  Thus, through its interpretation of Rule 8 in Iqbal and Twombly, the Supreme Court has achieved something very similar to what the 1983 rulemakers accomplished through Rule 11: courts today, as they did from 1983 to 1993, are using a heightened plausibility standard to review complaints.[20]

Further, the post-Iqbal era is strikingly similar to the 1983–1993 era of pleading in terms of its effects.  As an initial matter, Iqbal, like the 1983 version of Rule 11, has spawned massive amounts of litigation seeking clarification of its meaning and copious amounts of scholarship criticizing the courts for imposing a heightened pleading standard that has led to too many complaints being dismissed early in the litigation.[21]  Further, commentators are condemning Iqbal in a variety of other ways that echo the criticisms directed at the 1983 version of Rule 11.  First, commentators are calling Iqbal a “defendant’s tool,” which is how critics described the 1983 version of Rule 11.[22]  Second, a significant criticism of Iqbal is that it is subjective and gives judges too much discretion, which was a major complaint about the 1983 version of Rule 11.[23]  Third, critics are condemning Iqbal for having a “chilling effect” on plaintiffs, which was a principal criticism of the 1983 version of Rule 11.[24]  Finally, commentators are noticing that Iqbal is having a disproportionate effect on certain kinds of litigation—civil rights and employment discrimination cases in particular—which is the exact same thing that critics were saying about the 1983 version of Rule 11.[25]

That Iqbal has returned us to the 1983–1993 era of pleading is, perhaps, not surprising given the opposition of Justices Scalia and Thomas—two of the five-justice majority in Iqbal—to the 1993 amendment of Rule 11.  In opposing those changes, Justice Scalia wrote that the 1983 version of Rule 11 had been so effective in reducing frivolous litigation that “[t]he proposed revision would render the Rule toothless.”[26]  Justice Scalia was correct that the 1993 amendment severely weakened Rule 11,[27] but now the Iqbal majority has, in many ways, turned back the clock to 1983.

This Article proceeds chronologically.  Part I describes pleading from 1938 until 1983 under the notice pleading regime put in place by the drafters of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure.  Part II surveys the harsh features of the 1983 amendments to Rule 11 and the effect it had on pleading.  Part III details the 1993 amendments to Rule 11 that restored notice pleading.  Part IV discusses the Twombly and Iqbal decisions and the important ways in which they changed pleading.  Part V then explores the significant similarities between the 1983–1993 era of pleading and the post-Iqbal era, including the implications of this historical link.

I.  Pleading from 1938 to 1983

Pleading is often described as the “gatekeeper for civil litigation.”[28]  At the pleading stage, courts decide which cases will survive and proceed to subsequent stages of litigation, including potentially expensive and time-consuming discovery, and which cases will not.  In setting pleading standards, rulemakers concern themselves primarily with balancing two competing concerns: (1) “citizen access to the justice system and merit adjudications based on the full disclosure of relevant information”—which weigh in favor of more liberal pleading standards—and (2) concerns about combating abusive and frivolous lawsuits—which weigh in favor of more restrictive standards.[29]  Efforts to strike the right balance between these goals is the dominant theme in the story of pleading in the modern era, and, as the Iqbal saga shows, that tension continues today.

The primary goal of the drafters of the original 1938 Federal Rules of Civil Procedure was to liberalize pleading standards.  By promulgating those rules, the Supreme Court launched the modern era of notice pleading, ending “centuries of dispute over the words the plaintiff needed to say to start a lawsuit.”[30]  Before the enactment of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure, pleadings had to lay out the issues in dispute and state facts “in considerable detail.”[31]  Moreover, courts frequently dismissed complaints because of technicalities.[32]

By contrast, under the new system of notice pleading, the drafters of the rules made clear that “[n]o technical form[s of pleadings and motions are] required,”[33] and a complaint would be sufficient under Rule 8 if it contained “a short and plain statement of the claim showing that the pleader is entitled to relief.”[34]  The rulemakers showed “just how serious [they] were about simplifying pleading”[35] when they attached forms to the rules that demonstrated “how very little was required of plaintiffs.”[36]  “Form 11 sets forth a vehicular-negligence claim in thirty-seven words, achieving this brevity in part by blessing the use of conclusory terms: ‘[T]he defendant negligently drove a motor vehicle. . . . As a result, the plaintiff was physically injured . . . .’”[37]

In the landmark 1957 case of Conley v. Gibson,[38] the Supreme Court embraced the concept of “notice pleading,” making clear that “the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure do not require a claimant to set out in detail the facts upon which he bases his claim.”[39]  Instead, the Court said, a complaint is sufficient as long as it “give[s] the defendant fair notice of what the plaintiff’s claim is and the grounds upon which it rests.”[40]  Further, the Court uttered its famous statement (which the Twombly Court “retired”): “a complaint should not be dismissed for failure to state a claim unless it appears beyond doubt that the plaintiff can prove no set of facts in support of his claim which would entitle him to relief.”[41]

This notice-pleading standard made “starting a lawsuit unsupported by evidence very easy.”[42]  The “motivating theory” behind this liberal pleading standard was that “the stages subsequent to pleading—disclosure, discovery, pretrial conferences, summary judgment, and trial—could more efficiently and fairly handle functions such as narrowing issues and revealing facts.”[43]

The original drafters of the Federal Rules included Rule 11—a specific provision governing attorney conduct—with the goal of increasing attorney responsibility to the court, but it was essentially a dead letter during this time period and therefore had no impact on Rule 8’s liberal pleading standard.[44]  The earliest version of Rule 11 provided that an attorney’s signature on a pleading or motion constituted a certification that the attorney had “read the pleading, motion, or other paper; that to the best of his knowledge, information and belief there [was] good ground to support it; and that it [was] not interposed for delay.”[45]  Commentators criticized the rule for its lack of detail and clarity—particularly the subjective “good ground to support” language.[46]  This imprecise language created confusion in the courts over the standard of conduct expected of lawyers, the kinds of pleadings and motions that should trigger Rule 11, and the range of available sanctions.[47]  As a result of this confusion, courts rarely imposed sanctions.[48]  Nevertheless, this ineffective rule remained unchanged for forty-five years until the 1983 amendments.

Thus, from 1938 to 1983, particularly in the years following the Supreme Court’s decision in Conley, the simple notice pleading standard held sway.  That changed with the 1983 amendments to Rule 11.

II.  Pleading from 1983 to 1993

Increasing concerns about “costs and delay that often accompany contemporary civil litigation in the federal courts”[49] led to a series of changes to the federal rules in 1983, including substantial changes to Rule 11.[50]  In particular, the Advisory Committee intended the new Rule 11 to address the “rising number of civil lawsuits and increasing costs and delay in litigation, the perceived ineffectiveness of existing sanctions rules in preventing dilatory and abusive practices, and the unwillingness of courts to impose theretofore discretionary sanctions.”[51]  As set forth below, although the changes to Rule 11 were not necessarily directed at pleading, they nevertheless had a dramatic impact on pleading.

The 1983 Amendments to Rule 11 included seven major changes,[52] three of which merit discussion.  First and most importantly, “the significance of the certification requirement was sharpened, and its scope was broadened.”[53]  The new signature requirement provided that the attorney or party

has read the [document]; that to the best of his knowledge, information, and belief formed after reasonable inquiry it is well grounded in fact and is warranted by existing law or a good faith argument for the extension, modification, or reversal of existing law, and that it is not interposed for any improper purpose, such as to harass or to cause unnecessary delay or needless increase in the cost of litigation.[54]

The Advisory Committee suggested a number of criteria for courts to consider in assessing the reasonableness of the attorney’s inquiry.  Of particular note, one of those standards directed courts to consider “whether the pleading, motion, or other paper was based on a plausible view of the law.”[55]

Although this change in Rule 11 was directed at the sufficiency of the lawyer’s prefiling investigation and not at the complaint itself, it also had a dramatic effect on pleading; specifically, it “was quite obviously (albeit indirectly) intended to constrain the sweeping scope of Rule 8(a).”[56]  On its face, the amended Rule 11 was in direct conflict with Rule 8(a).[57]  Rule 8(a)’s liberal notice pleading standard—requiring only that the complaint contain “a short and plain statement of the claim showing that the pleader is entitled to relief”[58]—deliberately “avoids mention of ‘facts’ or ‘causes of action.’”[59]  By contrast, the 1983 version of Rule 11 required that lawyers conduct a prefiling investigation to establish that, among other things, any allegations in the complaint were “well grounded in fact.”[60]  In other words, Rule 8(a) largely deemphasized the need for lawyers to include facts in their complaint—remember that Form 11 stated a vehicular-negligence claim in thirty-seven words—while the 1983 version of Rule 11 required that lawyers investigate the specific factual and legal bases for the complaint.  Thus, the 1983 version of Rule 11 articulated “a standard for avoiding sanctions that require[d] a complaint to specify legal and factual bases to a fuller extent than that necessary to survive a motion to dismiss.”[61]

Rule 11 did not actually change the pleading standard—it cannot, since Rule 8 governs pleading—but the amended Rule 11 did change the way lawyers drafted their complaints.  With the specter of Rule 11 sanctions hanging over their heads, plaintiffs’ lawyers pled with more specificity.  Their fear was warranted.  While some courts rightly rejected the notion that Rule 11 had any impact on the pleading requirements of Rule 8,[62] many courts nevertheless used Rule 11’s “well grounded in fact” language to dismiss complaints that were not sufficiently specific, and thereby “tighten[ed] the liberal pleading regime” set forth in Rule 8(a).[63]  As a result, “Rule 11’s duty of reasonable inquiry seemed to affect the accepted standard for pleading under Rule 8(a).”[64]  This caused commentators to criticize the rule because it “created a risk that the threat of the imposition of sanctions would promote a revival of fact pleading that was antithetical to the spirit (if not the letter) of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure.”[65]

Significantly, in judging whether a lawyer had met his duty of reasonable inquiry under Rule 11, the courts, following the Advisory Committee’s suggested standards, used plausibility as a touchstone.[66]  As the Supreme Court noted, the standard for determining the appropriateness of Rule 11 sanctions is “whether, at the time the attorney filed the pleading or other paper, his legal argument would have appeared plausible.”[67]  Thus, foreshadowing today’s post-Iqbal practice, courts sanctioned lawyers who brought claims that were not “plausible.”[68]

A second significant amendment to Rule 11 was to make sanctions mandatory, so that district courts were required to impose sanctions if they determined that a violation had occurred.[69]  In a third important change, the amended rule explicitly authorized the district court to grant attorneys’ fees and costs for violating the rule.[70]  Indeed, although the 1983 version of the rule authorized the district courts to impose a wide variety of “appropriate sanctions,”[71] attorneys’ fees became the “Rule 11 sanction of choice.”[72]  Thus, in most cases, when a court found that a lawyer had violated Rule 11, it ordered fee-shifting not otherwise available in the American legal system.[73]

These three changes—the new certification standard that put pressure on lawyers to plead with greater specificity, combined with the significant economic incentive to bring a Rule 11 motion and the mandate to the courts to sanction all violations of the rule—”dramatically altered the conduct of lawyers litigating in federal court[]” in several respects.[74]  First, the amendments caused Rule 11’s “invocation and application” to become “pervasive.”[75]  Lawyers, particularly defense counsel, “routinely” filed Rule 11 motions “to force their adversaries to justify the factual and legal bases underlying motions and pleadings,”[76] and courts were therefore inundated with “satellite” Rule 11 litigation.[77]

Second, perhaps most significantly for present purposes, the 1983 version of Rule 11 affected parties’ substantive rights.[78]  Specifically, it “harmed plaintiffs, particularly public interest and civil rights plaintiffs” by “chill[ing] vigorous advocacy.”[79]  Several empirical studies concluded that sanctions were being imposed “disproportionately against plaintiffs, particularly in certain types of litigation such as civil rights, employment discrimination, securities fraud cases brought by investors, and antitrust cases brought by small companies.”[80]  Moreover, the primary focus of sanctions was the complaint,[81] which formed the basis of 50% of the requests for sanctions according to one study,[82] and 57.8% of the requests for sanctions according to another.[83]

This empirical evidence led to widespread criticism that the 1983 version of the rule was having a dramatic chilling effect on plaintiffs’ lawyers by causing them to decide not to bring arguably meritorious cases.[84]  While it is difficult to determine how many attorneys declined to bring meritorious cases because of Rule 11, some studies attempted to analyze that question.  In one 1988 study, 20% of surveyed lawyers reported that they refrained from bringing an arguably meritorious case because they were concerned about sanctions.[85]

In addition to the empirical evidence of Rule 11’s chilling effect,

A great deal of anecdotal evidence exists indicating that a large number of judges, including those who previously were less than zealous in prodding the parties before them, began citing the 1983 version of Rule 11 in pre-trial conferences and other proceedings (on or off the record) in order to remind litigants of their ethical obligations and that monetary consequences might follow violations of the rule.[86]

Similarly, courts frequently warned “plaintiffs whose claims were dismissed with leave to amend that they would be subject to sanctions if the amended complaint did not correct the factual or legal deficiencies that led to dismissal.”[87]

By the early 1990s, some commentators concluded that the courts had begun to apply Rule 11 less harshly, particularly in certain kinds of cases,[88] but the 1983 version of Rule 11 continued to produce a tidal wave of criticism[89] that eventually pushed the rulemakers to amend the rule.

III.  The 1993 Amendments to Rule 11 and the Return to Notice Pleading

In 1993, rulemakers, “motivated by a desire to curb some of the perceived excesses surrounding Rule 11 motion practice under the 1983 version of the rule,”[90] substantially amended Rule 11 to its current form.[91]  As a result of these changes, “[t]here is no doubt that Rule 11 got some of its teeth pulled.”[92]

First, the 1993 amendments made sanctions discretionary rather than mandatory.[93]  This change was “important, because it was a signal to courts and litigants that they should be less zealous in using Rule 11 in cases where there were relatively minor infractions of the rule.”[94]

Second, the amendments added a “safe harbor” provision by which the party seeking Rule 11 sanctions must serve the motion on the offending attorney and allow that attorney twenty-one days to withdraw the offending paper before filing the sanctions motion with the court.[95]  Through this provision, the drafters of the amendments aimed to “mitigate Rule 11’s chilling effect” and “encourag[e] the withdrawal of papers that violate the rule without involving the district court” thereby reducing Rule 11 litigation.[96]

Third, the revisions shifted the purpose of sanctions from compensation to deterrence, thereby “chang[ing] the emphasis with regard to the types of sanctions to be ordered by the district court.”[97]  Specifically, the new rule provides that “[a] sanction imposed under this rule must be limited to what suffices to deter repetition of the conduct or comparable conduct by others similarly situated.”[98]  Thus, the new rule “envision[ed] public interest remedies such as fines and reprimands as the norm” rather than “private interest remedies,” such as attorneys’ fees.[99]  To drive home this point, the Advisory Committee’s note accompanying the amendment states that monetary penalties “should ordinarily be paid into court,” rather than the opposing party, except under “unusual circumstances.”[100]

Fourth, the amendments modified the requirement that the litigant certify that the assertions made in papers presented to the court be “well grounded in fact.”[101]  Instead, the new version specifically allows pleaders to make factual contentions even though the pleader lacks evidentiary support at the time that they are made.  Thus, under the revised signature requirement, the “attorney or unrepresented party certifies that to the best of the person’s knowledge, information, and belief, formed after an inquiry reasonable under the circumstances . . . the factual contentions have evidentiary support or, if specifically so identified, will likely to have evidentiary support after a reasonable opportunity for further investigation or discovery.”[102]

The 1993 amendments achieved their goal of reducing Rule 11 litigation; since their passage, lawyers have filed fewer Rule 11 motions.[103]  As a result, there has been less “satellite litigation” and, moreover, by most accounts, the reduced threat of sanctions has decreased the chilling effect of Rule 11.[104]

Moreover, the changes to Rule 11 lifted the pressure on pleading standards that the 1983 version of the rule had imposed.  “The cases decided under the 1993 version of Rule 11 suggest that the lower federal courts understood that the 1993 amendments were designed to liberalize the rule.”[105]  Courts recognized that they were to “impose sanctions only where the conduct in question reaches a point of clear abuse.”[106]  Indeed, some courts explicitly rejected the notion that Rule 11 could even have any impact on the pleading standard.  As one court stated, “It appears that [the third-party defendant] is asking the court to graft, via [Rule] 11(b), a particularity requirement onto the notice pleading requirements of [Rule] 8(a).  I decline to do so.”[107]

In contrast to the 1983–1993 time period—when courts used Rule 11 to sanction lawyers for failing to plead their claims with sufficient detail by, among other things, dismissing their complaints—courts in the period following the amendment to Rule 11 recognized that a complaint could be insufficient under Rule 8 without being sanctionable.  Indeed, as the Sixth Circuit explained, under the amended Rule 11, a complaint that contains insufficient factual detail—even bare-bones, conclusory allegations—is not ordinarily sanctionable:

Although [the plaintiff] failed to include more than bare, conclusory assertions in her complaint, and thus failed to plead with the requisite specificity necessary to make an actionable claim, she did not fail in this endeavor by a wide margin. . . . As a general proposition, a district court should be hesitant to determine that a party’s complaint is in violation of Rule 11(b) when the suit is dismissed pursuant to Rule 12(b)(6) and there is nothing before the court, save the bare allegations of the complaint.[108]

The Supreme Court’s 2002 unanimous decision in Swierkiewicz v. Sorema N.A.[109] confirmed that liberal notice pleading was the governing standard and “provided a full-throated endorsement” of that standard.[110]  In that employment discrimination case, the Court found the plaintiff’s bald allegation—that his “age and national origin were motivating factors in [the defendant’s] decision to terminate his employment”—sufficient under Rule 8.[111]  In doing so, the Court recognized that this approach to pleading would “allow[ ] lawsuits based on conclusory allegations of discrimination to go forward” but concluded that “the Federal Rules do not contain a heightened pleading standard for employment discrimination suits.”[112]  Heightened pleading, the Court noted, is only required under the circumstances set forth in Rule 9(b).[113]  Confirming that the liberal pleading standard had returned, the Court said that “[g]iven the Federal Rules’ simplified standard for pleading, ‘[a] court may dismiss a complaint only if it is clear that no relief could be granted under any set of facts that could be proved consistent with the allegations.’”[114]

In short, whatever pressure the 1983 version of Rule 11 put on the pleading standard was largely eliminated by the 1993 amendments.  Thus, the 1993 amendments to Rule 11 meant a return to liberal notice pleading, at least until Twombly and Iqbal.

IV.  Twombly and Iqbal

With the exception of the 1983–1993 time period described above, Rule 8(a)’s simple notice pleading standard held sway for fifty years following the Supreme Court’s decision in Conley.[115]  On occasion, lower courts implemented heightened pleading standards,[116] but in Swierkiewicz and other cases, the Supreme Court tamped down those efforts.  Then came Twombly and Iqbal.

A.            Bell Atlantic Corp. v. Twombly

In Twombly, telephone and Internet subscribers alleged that the country’s largest telecommunications firms had engaged in an illegal conspiracy in restraint of trade and therefore violated section 1 of the Sherman Act.[117]  In order to state a claim under section 1 of the Sherman Act, plaintiffs must establish that the defendants’ anticompetitive behavior is a result of a “contract, combination . . . , or conspiracy.”[118]  On this element, plaintiffs alleged parallel conduct by the defendants in great detail, explaining how the defendants had refused to compete against one another and kept other potential competitors out of their markets,[119] but alleged an agreement between the defendants in only a conclusory manner.[120]  Under antitrust law, parallel conduct alone is not illegal if it is the result of independent acts by competitors.[121]

In a 7–2 opinion authored by Justice Souter, the Supreme Court found those allegations insufficient under Rule 8(a).[122]  To satisfy Rule 8, the Supreme Court said that the complaint must contain “allegations plausibly suggesting (not merely consistent with) agreement.”[123]  The Court held that the allegations concerning a “contract, combination, or conspiracy” were “merely legal conclusions resting on the prior allegations” of parallel conduct.[124]  As for the more specific allegations of parallel conduct, the Court emphasized that parallel conduct alone does not violate the Sherman Act.[125]  To the contrary, the Court said that parallel conduct is “a common reaction of firms in a concentrated market” and entirely consistent with “a wide swath of rational and competitive business strategy unilaterally prompted by common perceptions of the market.”[126]  Thus, the Court concluded, “an allegation of parallel conduct and a bare assertion of conspiracy will not suffice.”[127]  “Further factual enhancement” was necessary to cross “the line between possibility and plausibility of ‘entitle[ment] to relief.’”[128]  Significantly, in reaching its conclusion, the Court “retire[d]” Conley’s “no set of facts” language.[129]  As commentators quickly recognized, Twombly “imposed an entirely new test on the pleading stage, instituting a judicial inquiry into the pleading’s convincingness.”[130]

In reaching this conclusion, the Court’s primary motivation appears to have been its concern about the high costs of discovery.  In particular, the Court did not want to permit meritless claims to reach the discovery stage in which plaintiffs could extract significant settlements from defendants in light of the high costs of discovery.  As Justice Souter wrote, “the threat of discovery expense will push cost-conscious defendants to settle even anemic cases before reaching those proceedings.”[131]

B.            Ashcroft v. Iqbal

Twombly sent “shockwaves throughout the legal community,”[132] but many wondered whether it applied “only to complex antitrust claims, while the more lenient notice pleading approach [would continue] to apply more generally.”[133]  In Iqbal, the Court “remove[d] any doubt that Twombly reflects the generally applicable pleading standard in federal court.”[134]

In Iqbal, the plaintiff, a Pakistani Muslim arrested after the September 11, 2001, attacks, filed a Bivens action against federal officials, including Attorney General John Ashcroft and FBI Director Robert Mueller.[135]  The claims against Ashcroft and Mueller rested on the theory that they “each knew of, condoned, and willfully and maliciously agreed” to arrest and detain Iqbal and thousands of other Arab Muslim men and subject them to harsh conditions of confinement “as a matter of policy, solely on account of [their] religion, race, and/or national origin and for no legitimate penological interest.”[136]  The complaint further alleged that Ashcroft was the “‘principal architect’ of the policy” and Mueller was “instrumental in [its] adoption, promulgation, and implementation.”[137]

In a 5–4 decision authored by Justice Kennedy, the Court found that these allegations were not sufficient to survive a motion to dismiss.[138]  In reaching this conclusion, the Court reiterated the principles announced in Twombly: “A pleading that offers ‘labels and conclusions’ or a ‘formulaic recitation of the elements of a cause of action will not do.’  Nor does a complaint suffice if it tenders ‘naked assertion[s]’ devoid of ‘further factual enhancement.’”[139]  Rather, “a complaint must contain sufficient [nonconclusory] factual matter, accepted as true, to ‘state a claim to relief that is plausible on its face.’”[140]

In applying these principles, the Court employed a two-step analysis.  First, it identified the “conclusory” allegations in the complaint—(1) that Ashcroft and Mueller “‘knew of, condoned, and willfully and maliciously agreed to subject [Plaintiffs]’ to harsh conditions of confinement ‘as a matter of policy, solely on account of [their] religion, race, and/or national origin and for no legitimate penological interest”; (2) that “Ashcroft was the ‘principal architect’ of this invidious policy”; and (3) that “Mueller was ‘instrumental’ in adopting and executing it”[141]—and found them fatally flawed under Twombly because they are “bare assertions [that] . . . amount to nothing more than a ‘formulaic recitation of the elements’ of a constitutional discrimination claim.”[142]  Therefore, the Court disregarded these allegations.

Second, the Court returned to the remaining allegation—that the FBI had rounded up many Arab Muslims and subjected them to harsh conditions of confinement—and determined that this assertion did not plausibly suggest “purposeful, invidious discrimination” because the government’s conduct was entirely consistent with good law enforcement:

The September 11 attacks were perpetrated by 19 Arab Muslim hijackers who counted themselves members in good standing of al Qaeda, an Islamic fundamentalist group.  Al Qaeda was headed by another Arab Muslim—Osama bin Laden—and composed in large part of his Arab Muslim disciples.  It should come as no surprise that a legitimate policy directing law enforcement to arrest and detain individuals because of their suspected link to the attacks would produce a disparate, incidental impact on Arab Muslims, even though the purpose of the policy was to target neither Arabs nor Muslims.[143]

Thus, the Court concluded, the plaintiffs’ complaint was insufficient because it needed “to allege more by way of factual content to ‘nudg[e]’ his claim of purposeful discrimination ‘across the line from conceivable to plausible.’”[144]

In reaching this conclusion, the Court explicitly rejected the notion that Twombly should be “limited to pleadings made in the context of an antitrust dispute.”[145]  Specifically, it stated that “[t]hough Twombly determined the sufficiency of a complaint sounding in antitrust, the decision was based on our interpretation and application of Rule 8.  That Rule in turn governs the pleading standard ‘in all civil actions and proceedings in the United States district courts.’”[146]  As in Twombly, the Court seems to have been motivated in large part by the costs of discovery and the need to give trial judges the ability to dismiss lawsuits before they reach discovery.[147]

C.                        Pleading After Iqbal

Courts and commentators continue to debate the precise meaning of Twombly and Iqbal, but there are a few points of general agreement.  First, Twombly and Iqbal are here to stay, at least for the foreseeable future.[148]  Although some commentators suggest that these decisions may not be as significant as they seem,[149] the Supreme Court itself explicitly stated that its interpretation of Rule 8 in Iqbal governs all civil actions in U.S. district courts, not just antitrust and Bivens cases.[150]  And the lower courts are following suit: Iqbal is well on its way to becoming the most cited case of all time.[151]

Second, liberal notice pleading appears dead.[152]  Despite the Court’s insistence to the contrary, Iqbal, with its requirement that the complaint be “plausible” at the pleading stage, makes it more difficult to satisfy Rule 8’s “short and plain statement” standard.  In deciding whether a complaint satisfies this standard, Iqbal requires that courts follow a two-step process.  First, the court is to disregard any conclusory allegations.[153]  Second, the court is to determine whether the remaining nonconclusory allegations, accepted as true, plausibly suggest an entitlement to relief.[154]  The Iqbal decision tells us, moreover, that “plausibility” means more than just a “sheer possibility that a defendant has acted unlawfully.”[155]  In other words, the complaint must “nudge[ ] [plaintiff’s] claims across the line from conceivable to plausible.”[156]  In determining whether the complaint has achieved plausibility, the Court explained, judges are to use their “judicial experience” and “common sense.”[157]

While lower courts are left with the unenviable task of sorting out what constitutes a “plausible” complaint,[158] the primary impact of Twombly and Iqbal appears to be the imposition of “a fact pleading requirement on Rule 8.”[159]  As one commentator explained, the Twombly standard “assesses the factual sufficiency of the allegations.  And, the conclusory/nonconclusory dichotomy of Iqbal forces a plaintiff to detail factual support for her allegations to avoid having her complaint deemed ‘conclusory’ and thus disregarded.”[160]  Thus, the plaintiff’s lawyer needs to go element-by-element and “give a particularized mention of the factual circumstances of each element of the claim.”[161]  Over and above providing detail, in order to be “plausible,” the complaint must also be convincing.[162]

V.  Iqbal and the Resurrection of the 1983 Version of Rule 11

Twombly and Iqbal have transformed pleading and introduced a great deal of uncertainty.  To date, commentators have produced an enormous amount of scholarship offering a wide variety of analyses and perspectives on these cases.[163]  Noticeably, however, that scholarship has described the Iqbal plausibility standard as “novel” in the modern era[164] and identified little historical precedent for the post-Iqbal pleading era.  As set forth in this Part, however, the post-Iqbal period of pleading is not entirely new.  To the contrary, the current era bears a sharp resemblance to federal pleading from 1983 to 1993.  Specifically, the 1983 version of Rule 11 and Iqbal are comparable in their motivation, implementation, and effects.

Both the 1983 version of Rule 11 and Iqbal were motivated by a perceived need to help courts overwhelmed by frivolous cases.[165]  Further, in both cases, the implementation of the new standards created significant uncertainty.  Thus, just as Rule 11 was a focal point of litigation from 1983 to 1993,[166] courts today are flooded with Iqbal motions,[167] and Iqbal, like the 1983 version of Rule 11, has become an extremely popular subject among scholars.[168]

As set forth in detail below, in terms of effects, the current criticisms of Iqbal are exactly the same complaints that were directed at the 1983 version of Rule 11.  First, and perhaps most significantly, commentators complain that Iqbal has tightened pleading standards—just the way that the 1983 version of Rule 11 did (albeit indirectly).  Further, under both pleading standards, plausibility is a touchstone for determining whether a complaint should survive the pleading stage.  Second, this stricter pleading standard has commentators complaining, just as they did in 1983, about a “chilling effect” on plaintiffs and, relatedly, that the courts have taken a decidedly pro-defendant turn.  Third, courts and commentators are noticing that Iqbal is having a disproportionate effect on certain kinds of litigation—civil rights and employment discrimination cases in particular—the same criticism that was leveled at the 1983 version of Rule 11.

A.                        The Heightened Pleading Standard

The most striking similarity between the 1983 version of Rule 11 and Iqbal is that both displaced liberal notice pleading and effectively imposed a heightened pleading standard based, at least in part, on whether the complaint is plausible.

As discussed in Part II, Rule 11 is directed at the sufficiency of the lawyer’s prefiling investigation rather than the pleading itself, but the 1983 version of the rule nevertheless had a dramatic effect on pleading.  Specifically, courts used Rule 11’s prefiling investigation requirement to require more detailed pleading,[169] and many courts used Rule 11 to dismiss complaints that were not sufficiently specific.[170]  Commentators criticized the rule because it “undermine[d] the liberal pleading regime.”[171]  Further, in judging whether a lawyer had met his duty of reasonable inquiry under Rule 11, some courts, following the Advisory Committee’s suggested standards, used plausibility as a touchstone.[172]  While the 1993 Amendments to Rule 11 brought a return of liberal notice pleading, the Supreme Court, through its interpretation of Rule 8 in Iqbal and Twombly, has now returned us to a pleading regime that resembles 1983 in several significant respects.

First and foremost, as previously discussed, Iqbal has replaced the liberal notice pleading standard with a heightened plausibility standard.[173]  In determining whether plaintiffs meet that standard, courts are to examine the nonconclusory allegations in the complaint and decide, based on their “judicial experience and common sense” whether those allegations “nudge[ ] [the plaintiffs’] claims across the line from conceivable to plausible.”[174]  The primary impact of this standard is to “impose a fact pleading requirement on Rule 8”[175] that compels lawyers to go element-by-element and “give a particularized mention of the factual circumstances of each element of the claim.”[176]  Thus, Iqbal, just like the 1983 version of Rule 11, has produced “a revival of fact pleading that [is] antithetical to the spirit (if not the letter) of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure.”[177]

Second, Iqbal, like the 1983 version of Rule 11, has introduced a great deal of subjectivity into pleading.  Under the 1983 version of Rule 11, sanctionable complaints were in the eye of the beholder: “[O]n the same set of facts, almost half of judges surveyed would have sanctioned a complaint as frivolous which the other half determined not to violate the rule. . . . Lawyers sanctioned by the district court for bringing ‘frivolous’ cases, have secured reversals not only of sanctions but also on the merits.”[178]

Iqbal is already under attack for the same reason.  In Iqbal, the Court specifically directed district courts to use their “judicial experience” and “common sense” to determine whether the claim is plausible.  This aspect of the Iqbal decision “obviously licenses highly subjective judgments . . . [and] is a blank check for federal judges to get rid of cases they disfavor.”[179]

Finally, Iqbal has restored the tension between Rule 8 and Rule 11 that existed under the 1983 version of Rule 11.[180]  Rule 8(a)’s liberal notice pleading standard—requiring only that the complaint contain “a short and plain statement of the claim showing that the pleader is entitled to relief”[181]—deliberately “avoids mention of ‘facts’ or causes of action,’”[182] while the 1983 version of Rule 11 required that lawyers conduct a prefiling investigation to establish, among other things, that any allegations in the complaint were “well grounded in fact.”[183]  Courts used the former Rule 11’s investigation requirement to force plaintiffs to plead with more factual detail than Rule 8(a) required.

Although the 1993 amendment to Rule 11 relieved that pressure, Iqbal has now revived it.[184]  As Professors Clermont and Yeazell explained, “[O]ne could have less disruptively attained an equivalent of the Twombly and Iqbal regime by aggressively rereading Rule 11 rather than Rule 8.”[185]  During the period from 1993 (when Rule 11 was amended) until the Court decided Twombly and Iqbal, a plaintiff’s lawyer who filed an insufficiently detailed complaint could sleep well knowing that he generally would suffer nothing worse than a dismissal of the complaint under Rule 12(b)(6).[186]  Indeed, courts consistently held that an insufficiently pled complaint by itself was not sanctionable under Rule 11, and that sanctions should be reserved for more egregious conduct.[187]  Iqbal, however, has thrown that notion into question.  A plaintiff’s lawyer who files an insufficiently detailed complaint today faces the prospect of sanctions under Rule 11, just as he did from 1983 to 1993.[188]  Although we have seen only a few courts in the post-Iqbal era actually sanction plaintiffs for filing insufficiently detailed complaints, there has been a veritable explosion of threatened sanctions,[189] and surely more sanctions will follow.  To illustrate further the way in which courts are conflating Rules 8 and 11, one district judge has been citing Rule 11 alongside Twombly and Iqbal as the standard governing the sufficiency of a plaintiff’s complaint.[190]

Another manifestation of this tension between Rule 8 and Rule 11 is the Supreme Court’s strict reading of Rule 8(a)(2) to require factual detail that seems to conflict with Rule 11(b)(3), which allows pleadings with “factual contentions . . . [that] will likely have evidentiary support after a reasonable opportunity for further investigation or discovery.”[191]  Professor Benjamin Spencer has noted this tension:

By moving from notice pleading to plausibility pleading requiring factual allegations, the Court seems to be precluding the very types of complaints contemplated and permitted by Rule 11(b).  That is, although Rule 11(b) allows for the possibility that the pleader will require discovery to obtain supportive facts, plausibility pleading does not make such an allowance.  Rather, plaintiffs are required to offer such facts at the pleading phase before discovery may occur.[192]

As noted earlier, this feature of Rule 11(b) was put in place in 1993, along with a variety of procedural mechanisms to soften Rule 11.  By undercutting a plaintiff’s ability to plead in this way, Iqbal is taking pleading directly back to the 1983–1993 time period.

B.                        Defendants’ Tools

A major criticism aimed at both the 1983 version of Rule 11 and Iqbal is that they are exclusively defendants’ tools that upset the Federal Rules’ delicate balance between the rights of plaintiffs to gain access to the courts and the rights of defendants to avoid abusive lawsuits.  Commentators frequently complained that the 1983 version of Rule 11 was used primarily by defendants against plaintiffs, even though nothing in the rule compelled this imbalanced application.[193]  Empirical evidence supported this objection.  Contemporaneous studies found that Rule 11 motions were “disproportionately directed at complaints rather than other papers,”[194] which formed the basis of approximately fifty percent of the requests for sanctions[195] and therefore inevitably “affect[ed] plaintiffs more adversely than defendants.”[196]

Critics today are saying the exact same thing about Iqbal.  Professor Georgene Vairo described the cases as “a defendant’s dream come true.”[197]  Another commentator said that Iqbal “is quickly becoming the best thing to happen to the products liability defense bar since Daubert.”[198]  Filing an Iqbal motion provides many benefits to the defense lawyer.  First, of course, the defendant may actually get the case dismissed.  Indeed, the defense lawyer’s professional duty of competence[199] places pressure on him to at least consider an Iqbal motion in almost every case, or at least those cases where the complaint contains any thinly pled allegations.  Arguably, “any defendant’s lawyer, faced with a complaint employing the minimalist pleading urged by Rule 8’s wording and the appended Forms’ content, commits legal malpractice if he or she fails to move to dismiss with liberal citations to Twombly and Iqbal.”[200]  Even an Iqbal motion that is likely to fail has benefits for defendants—the plaintiff’s response to the motion will provide the defendant with a great deal of information about the plaintiff’s case and maybe even lock the plaintiff into a story.[201]

C.                        Chilling Effect

Because complaints were the primary target of Rule 11 sanctions from 1983 to 1993, many commentators complained that the 1983 version of Rule 11 “harmed plaintiffs, particularly public interest and civil rights plaintiffs” by “chill[ing] vigorous advocacy.”[202]  Several empirical studies sought to demonstrate that the rule was preventing attorneys from bringing meritorious cases.[203]  In addition to the empirical evidence, anecdotal evidence suggested that plaintiffs’ lawyers were holding back because of Rule 11.[204]  “Whether it can be classified as chilling or not, lawyers reported a cautioning effect of rule 11.”[205]

Commentators fear that Iqbal will have the same chilling effect.[206]  Although there has not yet been any hard evidence about whether the new pleading standard is deterring lawyers from bringing meritorious cases, there is some anecdotal evidence that courts and defense lawyers are using Iqbal aggressively; this, in turn, may deter lawyers from bringing potentially meritorious cases.

First, in a large number of post-Iqbal cases, courts have cited the heightened pleading requirement imposed by Iqbal and threatened plaintiffs with Rule 11 sanctions if they file complaints that fail to meet that standard.[207]  In the most common scenario in the post-Iqbal world, the court grants a defendant’s Rule 12(b)(6) motion under Iqbal and permits the plaintiff leave to amend the complaint but warns that he should only amend the complaint if he can do so consistent with his obligations under Rule 11.[208]  This veiled (or perhaps not-so-veiled) threat from a judge can certainly make a lawyer think twice about refiling a complaint, and this has become an extremely common occurrence.  In making this threat, courts are directly linking the obligation to plead with specificity under Iqbal’s heightened pleading standard with the plaintiff’s obligation to assert claims only if the lawyer has a good faith basis for doing so under Rule 11(b)(3).[209]  This was precisely the situation from 1983 to 1993, when “courts warned plaintiffs whose claims were dismissed with leave to amend that they would be subject to sanctions if the amended complaint did not correct the factual or legal deficiencies that led to dismissal.”[210]  This practice seemed to be in decline after Rule 11 was amended in 1993 but is now occurring again on a regular basis.

Second, defense firms are openly encouraging clients to challenge complaints, not only via motions to dismiss, but also through Rule 11 motions.[211]

Finally, one court presented with a defendants’ 12(b)(6) motion to dismiss under Iqbal took the unusual step of ordering a preliminary hearing under the little-used Rule 12(i).[212]  The court stated that the hearing would serve dual purposes.  First, the parties could “present the testimony of live witnesses and other evidence limited to the defendants’ objections to the pleadings, specifically the threshold legal issues upon which, under the Twombly and Iqbal plausibility test, the sufficiency of [the plaintiff’s] retaliation claim is grounded.”[213]  “Second, the hearing would serve as an occasion for the Court to probe, in accordance with Rule 11(b), the extent to which some of [the plaintiff’s] conclusory allegations have factual support and were formed after an inquiry reasonable under the circumstances.”[214]  This kind of aggressive approach might make plaintiffs gun shy about filing complaints, though it remains to be seen whether other courts will use this tactic.

In short, it is still too early to know whether Iqbal will have the same kind of chilling effect as the 1983 version of Rule 11, but early signs suggest that it might.

D.            Disproportionate Impact

In still another striking parallel, critics of Iqbal argue that it is having a disproportionate impact on civil rights and employment discrimination cases, which is the same objection that commentators lodged against the 1983 version of Rule 11.[215]

As discussed earlier, one of the most significant complaints about the 1983 version of Rule 11 was that it “harmed plaintiffs, particularly public interest and civil rights plaintiffs” by “chill[ing] vigorous advocacy.”[216]  Moreover, commentators conducted empirical studies, just as they are doing today, to determine whether Rule 11 was being applied more strictly to certain kinds of cases.  And several of those studies concluded that sanctions were being imposed “disproportionately against plaintiffs, particularly in certain types of litigation such as civil rights, employment discrimination, securities fraud cases brought by investors, and antitrust cases brought by small companies.”[217]

Commentators are criticizing Twombly and Iqbal on the exact same ground.  Among the large amount of academic commentary produced in the wake of Twombly and Iqbal are a number of articles—including several empirical studies—expressing concern that Twombly and Iqbal are likely to have or are already having a “disproportionate” impact in certain kinds of cases.[218]  For example, Professor Howard Wasserman has written that “[c]ivil rights is one substantive area in which Iqbal will empower courts to increase scrutiny over pleadings.”[219]  Professor Arthur Miller made a similar prediction before Congress:

Twombly and Iqbal . . . probably will affect litigants bringing complex claims the hardest.  Those cases—many involving Constitutional and statutory rights that seek the enforcement of important national policies and often affecting large numbers of people—include claims in which factual sufficiency is most difficult to achieve at the pleading stage and tend to be resource consumptive.[220]

Similarly, Professor Joseph Seiner has examined the specific effect of Twombly on both employment discrimination claims brought under Title VII and disability discrimination claims brought under the Americans with Disabilities Act (“ADA”).  With respect to the former (conducted after Twombly but before Iqbal), Professor Seiner concluded that Twombly “has already made the pleading requirements more difficult (and certainly more confusing) for Title VII litigants,” and that the district courts are aggressively using Twombly to “rais[e] the bar as to what an employment discrimination plaintiff must plead” to survive dismissal.”[221]  As for claims of disability discrimination, Professor Seiner’s empirical study concluded that courts are 14.1% more likely to grant a motion to dismiss in an ADA claim after Twombly than before.[222]

Professor Seiner’s work only tells us that pleading employment discrimination and disability discrimination claims after Twombly is more difficult than it was before Twombly and does not speak to whether these categories of cases are receiving disproportionate treatment.  Several other empirical studies have studied this issue, however, and suggest that Twombly and Iqbal are already having at least some disproportionate impact on these “disfavored” cases.[223]

The Federal Judicial Center (“FJC”) recently produced the most comprehensive study of Iqbal and Twombly to date.[224]  The FJC study compared motion-to-dismiss activity in twenty-three federal judicial district courts before Twombly (cases filed from October 2005 through June 2006) and after Iqbal (cases filed from October 2009 through June 2010).[225]  The FJC found that defendants filed motions to dismiss in 6.2% of cases after Iqbal compared to only 4% of cases before Twombly, and reported this increase as statistically significant.[226]  With regard to the success of such motions, however, the FJC concluded:

After controlling for identifiable effects unrelated to the Supreme Court decisions, such as differences in caseload across individual districts, we found a statistically significant increase in the rate at which motions to dismiss for failure to state a claim were granted only in cases challenging financial instruments. . . . We found no increase in the rate at which motions to dismiss were granted, with or without opportunity to amend, in other types of cases.[227]

The FJC’s conclusion concerning the dismissal rate was controversial and became a hot topic among commentators, leading some to suggest that the impact of Twombly and Iqbal may have been exaggerated.[228]  Further, the FJC study is being cited by those who believe that no change is necessary in the pleading standard after Iqbal.[229]

Professor Lonny Hoffman has reexamined the FJC study, however, and concluded that the FJC’s overemphasis on statistical significance may cause “some readers to overlook the considerable changes in dismissal practices and outcomes the researchers did observe in comparing dismissal motions and orders before Twombly with motions and orders after Iqbal.”[230]

First, Professor Hoffman emphasizes the FJC’s findings that “after Iqbal, a plaintiff was twice as likely to face a motion to dismiss”[231] and stresses the importance of this finding, remarking that “[t]his sizeable increase in the rate of Rule 12(b)(6) motion activity represents a marked departure from the steady filing rate observed over the last several decades.”[232]  As Professor Hoffman concludes, the fact “[t]hat more motions are being filed carries real consequences for litigants.”[233]  Indeed, “[t]he FJC’s study confirms early predictions that Twombly and Iqbal would incentivize defendants to more frequently challenged the sufficiency of the plaintiff’s complaint.”[234]

Second, Professor Hoffman reexamines the FJC’s data concerning grant rates on motions to dismiss and again notes the FJC’s own data demonstrate important changes: “[O]n average, defendants were more successful in bringing motions to dismiss post-Iqbal.”[235]  On this issue, Professor Hoffman notes that the FJC data show that “in the three largest case categories (Other, Financial Instruments and Civil Rights), it was much more likely after Iqbal that a court would grant a motion to dismiss with leave to amend”—12.8%, 30.5%, and 11.7%, respectively.[236]  Additionally, even the “remaining three categories (Contract, Torts and Employment Discrimination) show smaller but still clearly increasing grant rates”[237]—9.2%, 7.7%, and 5.6% respectively.[238]

In addition to this empirical evidence, anecdotal evidence also supports the view that courts are applying Iqbal particularly harshly in these “disfavored” cases.[239]

VI.  Implications

What are the implications of this dramatic parallel between the pleading landscape today and the pleading landscape under the 1983 version of Rule 11?  Principally, this historical analysis should bring critical data and a fresh perspective to the current debate about Iqbal.  Although some commentators defend the decision[240] or argue that its impact will be minimal,[241] most contend that Iqbal is ill-conceived for the reasons discussed in this Article.  The criticism of Iqbal, however, lacks significant evidence—empirical or otherwise—since we are still very early in the post-Iqbal era.  This is where the comparison to the 1983–1993 time period is useful.  We do not need to spend a lot more time waiting to find out how plausibility pleading will play out in the lower courts.  We have been here before, and we know how it works.

Iqbal’s critics have been calling on Congress to overturn Iqbal, but no action seems imminent.[242]  It took ten years for the rule makers to amend Rule 11 to fix the mischief caused by the 1983 version of Rule 11.  Given what the 1983–1993 time period tells us about plausibility pleading, it should not take that long for policymakers to take action to address the problems caused by Iqbal.

Conclusion

This Article has examined the previously overlooked parallels between pleading under the 1983 version of Rule 11 and pleading in the post-Iqbal era.  In many ways, Iqbal has returned us to 1983.  Courts are judging the sufficiency of complaints based on a heightened plausibility standard.  Critics are complaining that the use of that standard is antithetical to the spirit, if not the letter, of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure and its adoption of notice pleading.  Further, commentators are saying that the plausibility standard is too subjective, gives judges too much discretion, has a chilling effect on plaintiffs, and is disproportionately harming plaintiffs with certain kinds of disfavored claims (civil rights and employment discrimination cases in particular).  In short, the Supreme Court, through its interpretation of Rule 8 in Iqbal and Twombly, has achieved something very similar to what the 1983 rulemakers accomplished through Rule 11.  Policymakers should look to the 1983–1993 experience under the old Rule 11 as a reason to move forward and address the problems with Iqbal.

 


 

Appendix: Granting Leave to Amend Complaint and Rule 11

In the following cases, courts granted a defendant’s Rule 12(b)(6) motion under Iqbal because the complaint was insufficiently detailed and permitted the plaintiff leave to amend but warned that the plaintiff should only amend if he could do so consistent with his obligations under Rule 11.  These cases were selected after a review of the results of a Westlaw search for “Iqbal and Rule 11” during the time period June 2009 to January 2011.

 

 

Singh v. Wells Fargo Bank, N.A., No. C-09-2035 SC, 2009 WL 2365881, at *7 (N.D. Cal. Jul. 30, 2009) (“Plaintiff is strongly encouraged to bring only those claims that have, or are likely to have, evidentiary support.  See [Rule] 11(b)(3).”).

 

Osorio v. United States, No. 08-80459-CIV, 2009 WL 2430889, at *3 (S.D. Fla. Aug. 6, 2009) (“Plaintiff may amend her complaint to attempt to assert a valid claim consistent with this order.  Of course, Plaintiff may only assert such a claim if she has a good faith basis to do so.  See Rule 11(b)(3).  Also, any amendment must ‘contain sufficient factual matter, accepted as true, to ‘state a claim to relief that is plausible on its face’’.  She must allege more than conclusions.” (citation omitted) (quoting Twombly, 550 U.S. at 570)).

 

Floyd v. CIBC World Mkts., Inc., 426 B.R. 622, 633 (S.D. Tex. 2009) (“Plaintiff’s Amended Complaint accordingly has not stated a plausible claim for relief . . . . The Court nevertheless will grant Plaintiff leave to amend if it is able to do so within the strictures of Rule 11.”).

 

Jones v. Premier One Funding, Inc., No. C-09-3858 SC, 2009 WL 4510138, at *5 (N.D. Cal. Nov. 30, 2009) (“Plaintiffs are strongly encouraged to bring only those claims that they believe have evidentiary support.  See [Rule] 11(b)(3).”).

 

Forba Holdings, L.L.C. v. Licsac, L.L.C., No. 09-cv-02305-CMA-MJW, 2010 WL 148267, at *2 (D. Colo. Jan. 11, 2010) (“The Court . . . grants grants Plaintiff leave to file within 21 days an emended compliant that complies with the Twombly/Iqbal plausibility standard.  If Plaintiff cannot, in good faith, file such a complaint . . . the case will be dismissed with prejudice.” (footnote omitted) (citing Rule 11(b)(3))).

 

Weaver v. Derichebourg ICS Multiservices., No. 09 Civ. 1611(LTS)(DF), 2010 WL 517595, at *3 (S.D.N.Y. Feb. 3, 2010) (“The determination of whether Plaintiff can articulate facts sufficient plausibly to state such a claim and comply with Rule 11 . . . will have to abide the filing of the amended complaint . . . .”).

 

Cooke v. Jaspers, No. H-07-3921, 2010 WL 918342, at *6 (S.D. Tex. Mar. 10, 2010)) (“There is no allegation that puts [the defendant] on notice of the basis of the claim or shows the plaintiffs’ entitlement to relief.  The motion to dismiss is granted.  The plaintiffs have leave to amend, consistent with Rule 11 . . . .” (citations omitted)).

 

Smith v. Pizza Hut, Inc., 694 F. Supp. 2d 1227, 1230–31 (D. Colo. 2010) (“The Court . . . [grants] Plaintiff leave to file . . . an amended complaint that complies with the Twombly/Iqbal plausibility standard.  If Plaintiffs cannot, in good faith, file such a complaint, . . . this case will be dismissed with prejudice.” (footnotes omitted) (citing Rule 11(b)(3))).

 

Figueiredo v. Aurora Loan, No. C 09-4784 BZ, 2010 WL 935323, at *1 (N.D. Cal. Mar. 15, 2010) (“It is plaintiff’s obligation to plead facts sufficient to state a plausible claim for relief.  The Court will not presume facts that plaintiff failed to allege in order to defeat a motion to dismiss.  If plaintiff cannot allege that the property was owner-occupied consistent with her obligations under Rule 11, then plaintiff cannot state a cause of action . . . .” *(citation omitted)).

 

Darrow v. WKRP Mgmt., L.L.C., No. 09-cv-01613-CMA-BNB, 2010 WL 1416799, at *3 (D. Colo. Apr. 6, 2010) (“The Court . . . [grants] Plaintiff leave to file . . . an amended complaint that complies with the Twombly/Iqbal plausibility standard.  If Plaintiffs cannot, in good faith, file such a complaint, . . . this case will be dismissed with prejudice.” (footnotes omitted) (citing Rule 11(b)(3))).

 

Goodman v. Merrill Lynch & Co., 716 F. Supp. 2d 253, 262 (S.D.N.Y. 2010) (“[B]efore repleading, plaintiff should carefully consider whether she can allege additional facts that would make her claims plausible rather than possible, keeping in mind the requirements of—and the sanctions authorized by—Rule 11.”).

 

Zendejas v. GMAC Wholesale Mortg. Corp., No. 1:10-CV-00184 OWW GSA, 2010 WL 2490975, at *4 (E.D. Cal. June 16, 2010) (“Defendants’ motion to dismiss any claims . . . for lack of standing is [granted with leave to amend] consistent with Rule 11.”).

 

United States ex rel. Davis v. Prince, No. 1:08CV1244, 2010 WL 2679761, at *4 (E.D. Va. July 2, 2010) (“Simply put, the complaint’s factual allegations do not create a plausible inference . . . . Thus, Count 2 reads as nothing more than a ‘threadbare recital’ of the [legal] elements . . . .  Accordingly, Count 2 is properly dismissed, but relators may re-plead this claim if they can do so consistently with Rule 11.” (citation omitted) (quoting Iqbal, 129 S. Ct. at 1949)).

 

Ravenswood Ctr., L.L.C. v. FDIC, No. 10 C 1064, 2010 WL 2681312, at *4 (N.D. Ill. July 6, 2010) (“We also grant [the plaintiff] leave to file an amended complaint . . . to the extent that it is able to do so consistent with this order and Rule 11.”).

 

Desperado Motor Racing & Motorcycles, Inc. v. Robinson, No. H-09-1574, 2010 WL 2757523, at *4 (S.D. Tex. July 13, 2010) (“The Court, in the interests of justice, grants Defendant leave to amend and re-plead these causes of action if he can do so within the strictures of Rule 11.”).

 

Wedgeworth v. Result Matrix, Inc., No. 02:10cv184-WHA, 2010 WL 2794594, at *3 (M.D. Ala. July 15, 2010) (“In deciding whether to file an amendment to the [complaint] . . . the Plaintiffs should consider whether they can allege [a cognizable claim], consistent with the requirements of Rule 11 . . . .”).

Bonner v. Select Portfolio Servicing, Inc., No. 10-00609 CW, 2010 WL 2925172, at *13 (N.D. Cal. July 26, 2010) (“If he files an amended complaint, Plaintiff’s failure to make a good faith effort to comply with Rule 11 will result in the imposition of sanctions and a referral to the State Bar of California.”).

 

Warner v. Township of S. Harrison, No. 09-6095 (JBS/JS), 2010 WL 3001969, at *5 n.6 (D.N.J. July 26, 2010) (“If Plaintiff believes that he is able to allege that he was an ‘employee’ who suffered an ‘adverse employment decision’ motivated by his political affiliation, and that such a pleading would satisfy counsel’s obligations under Rule 11, then Plaintiff is free to seek leave to file a second amended complaint promptly.” (citation omitted)).

 

La Gorce Palace Condo Ass’n v. QBE Ins. Corp., 733 F. Supp. 2d 1332, 1335 (S.D. Fla. 2010) (“If there are facts to support such a claim consistent with Rule 11 . . . Plaintiff may filed [sic] an amended Count I.”).

 

Bolton v. Fed. Home Loan Mortg. Corp., No. 2:10cv171-WHA, 2010 WL 3270022, at *5 (M.D. Ala. Aug. 17, 2010) (“[S]hould Plaintiff choose to file an amended complaint, he should keep in mind that he must make his allegations within the strictures of Rule 11 . . . .”).

 

Muczynski v. Lieblick, No. 10-cv-0081, 2010 WL 3328203, at *7 (N.D. Ill. Aug. 19, 2010) (“Plaintiff . . . [may] file an amended complaint if he can do so consistent with Rule 11.”).

 

Abdul-Aziz v. Show Dept., Inc., No. 09-cv-7609, 2010 WL 3516157, at *3 (N.D. Ill. Aug. 25, 2010) (“Plaintiff . . . [may] file a Second Amended Complaint if he can do so consistent with Rule 11.”).

 

McGinnis v. GMAC Mortg. Corp., No. 2:10-cv-00301-TC, 2010 WL 3418204, at *6 (D. Utah Aug. 27, 2010) (“[The plaintiff] may file a motion to amend his complaint . . . only so long as his amended complaint . . . complies with Rule 11 . . . .”).

 

Kopperl v. Bain, No. 3:09-CV-1754 (CSH), 2010 WL 3490980, at *4 (D. Conn. Aug. 30, 2010) (“In drafting any amended counterclaim pursuant to this Ruling, the . . . Defendants and counsel must keep in mind the provisions of Rule 11 . . . .”).

 

MacPherson v. Town of Southampton, 738 F. Supp. 2d 353, 375 (E.D.N.Y. 2010) (“Plaintiffs are cautioned . . . that any amendment is subject to scrutiny under Rule 11.”).

 

Ginsburg v. Concordia Univ., No. 4:10CV3064, 2010 WL 3720186, at *5 n.3 (D. Neb. Sept. 14, 2010) (“The court is providing [the plaintiff] an opportunity to cure the noted defects in his complaint provided such amendments can be made within the parameters of Rule 11 and the plaintiff wants to proceed with this case.  However, the plaintiff is hereby notified that attorney fees may be awarded if his claim lacks a factual basis and he nonetheless continues to pursue this litigation.”).

 

 

Miller v. Correctional Med. Servs., Inc., No. 2:10cv583-WHA-WC, 2010 WL 3723998, at *6 (M.D. Ala. Sept. 16, 2010) (“[S]hould Plaintiff choose to file an amended complaint, she should keep in mind that she must make her allegations within the strictures of Rule 11 . . . .”).

 

Garback v. Lossing, No. 09-cv-12407, 2010 WL 3733971, at *5 (E.D. Mich. Sept. 20, 2010) (“The Court will grant [the plaintiff] leave to file an amended complaint, consistent with Rule 11 . . . .”).

 

London v. Aurora Loan Servs., No. C-10-02789 EDL, 2010 WL 3751812, at *5 (N.D. Cal. Sept. 24, 2010) (“The Court cautions Plaintiff that she must comply with Rule 11 in amending her complaint.”).

 

Veltex Corp. v. Matin, No. CV 10-1746 ABC (PJWx), 2010 WL 3834045, at *8 n.12 (C.D. Cal. Sept. 27, 2010) (“In light of the Court’s granting Plaintiff leave to amend . . . however, the Court reminds Plaintiff of its Rule 11(b) obligations with respect to any new allegations pled.”).

 

Shugart v. Ocwen Loan Servicing, L.L.C., 747 F. Supp. 2d 938, 947 (S.D. Ohio 2010) (“The Court reminds Plaintiff’s counsel of its obligations pursuant to [Rule] 11(b)(3) and grants Plaintiff’s request for leave to amend Count Two . . . .”).

 

A-W Land Co. v. Anadarko E & P Co., No. 09-cv-02293-MSK-MJW, 2010 WL 3894107, at *5 n.10 (D. Colo. Sept. 29, 2010) (“Should the Plaintiffs believe they can, within the strictures of [Rule] 11(b)(3), amend the Complaint to state a cognizable claim . . . they may move for leave to do so . . . and the Court will evaluate that motion on its merits.”).

 

Ideyi v. State Univ. of N.Y. Downstate Med. Ctr., No. 09-CV-1490 (ENV)(RML), 2010 WL 3938411, at *8 (E.D.N.Y. Sept. 30, 2010) (“[T]he following causes of action are dismissed without prejudice with leave to replead, provided that plaintiff can do so in compliance with his Rule 8 and Rule 11 obligations . . . .”).

 

Hall v. Dixon, No. H-09-2611, 2010 WL 3909515, at *48 (S.D. Tex. Sept. 30, 2010) (“Any such amendment must be consistent with this Memorandum and Opinion and Rule 11 . . . and must not be futile.”).

 

Burton v. Progressive N. Ins. Co., No. CIV-10-921-W, 2010 WL 4167392, at *7 (W.D. Okla. Oct. 21, 2010) (“[T]he [plaintiffs] should be granted the opportunity to amend their amended complaint in accordance with Twombly, Iqbal, extant Oklahoma law and Rule 11 ‘to frame a ‘complaint with enough factual matter (taken as true) to suggest’ that . . . [they are] entitled to relief’ . . . .’” (third and fourth alterations in original) (citation omitted) (quoting Robbins v. Oklahoma, 519 F.3d 1242, 1247 (10th Cir. 2008))).

 

 

 

 

 

Carter v. Countrywide Home Loans, Inc., No. 3:10cv503-WHA-CSC, 2010 WL 4269149, at *6 (M.D. Ala. Oct. 28, 2010) (“The court will dismiss this Count without prejudice, to allow Plaintiffs an opportunity to amend this claim, if they wish to do so and can, within the requirements of Rule 11 to include allegation of facts showing how they reasonably relied on the alleged misrepresentations and why the two year statute of limitations has not run on the claim.” (citation omitted)).

 

Avant-Garde, L.L.C. v. Mountain Spa Props., L.L.C., No. CV10-1499-PHX-NVW, 2010 WL 4537057, at *6 (D. Ariz. Nov. 3, 2010) (“This denial is without prejudice to a subsequent motion to amend, but the Court emphasizes that, if [plaintiff] chooses to amend, its factual allegations must either (i) ‘have evidentiary support,’ or (ii) be ‘specifically . . . identified’ as facts that ‘will likely have evidentiary support after a reasonable opportunity for further investigation or discovery.’” (second alteration in original) (quoting Rule 11(b)(3))).

 

Kaminski v. BWW Sugar Land Partners, No. H-10-551, 2010 WL 4817057, at *3 (S.D. Tex. Nov. 19, 2010) (“Plaintiffs shall file an amended complaint . . . consistent with Rule 11 . . . .”).

 

Ward v. Ala. Dep’t of Conservation and Natural Res., No. 1:10cv745-WHA-SRW, 2010 WL 5014343, at *6 (M.D. Ala. Dec. 3, 2010) (“The court is not suggesting that the Plaintiff should file an Amended Complaint, or that, if he does, an Amended Complaint will withstand a new Motion to Dismiss.  The Plaintiff is merely being given an opportunity to do so, if he so chooses, and if he can do so considering Rule 11.” (citation omitted)).

 

Ballard v. Chase Bank USA, N.A., No. 10cv790 L(POR), 2010 WL 5114952, at *8 (S.D. Cal. Dec. 9, 2010) (“Counsel is reminded that ‘Rule 11 authorizes a court to impose a sanction on any attorney, law firm, or party that brings a claim for an improper purpose or without support in law or evidence.’” (quoting Sneller v. City of Bainbridge Island, 606 F.3d 636, 638–39 (9th Cit. 2009))).

 

Kucheynik v. Mortg. Elec. Registration Sys., Inc., No. C10-451Z, 2010 WL 5174540, at *5 n.4 (W.D. Wash. Dec. 15, 2010) (“The Court notes that amendment would be futile, unless Plaintiffs can allege facts, subject to Rule 11(b) requirements, that would entitle them to equitable tolling and to cure the factual deficiencies in the complaint.  Nevertheless, the Court is persuaded that the Plaintiffs should be permitted an opportunity to amend at this early stage of the proceedings.”).

 

Cruz Reyes v. United States, No. 08-00005, 2010 WL 5207583, at *7 n.8 (D. Guam Dec. 15, 2010) (“The court is skeptical that Plaintiff can amend his negligence claims and his contract claim in keeping with Rule 11 . . . .”).

 

Lindgren v. Spears, No. H-10-1929, 2010 WL 5437270, at *4 (S.D. Tex. Dec. 27, 2010) (“Spears’s motion to dismiss under Rule 12(b)(6) is granted, without prejudice and with leave to amend, consistent with Rule 11 . . . .”).

 

Meram v. Citizens Title & Trust, Inc., No. 10cv1388 L(POR), 2011 WL 11463, at *5 (S.D. Cal. Jan. 3, 2011) (“The Court will grant plaintiffs’ request for leave to amend, so that plaintiffs may attempt to cure the deficiencies noted herein.  But plaintiffs’ are advised that ‘Rule 11 authorizes a court to impose a sanction on any attorney, law firm, or party that brings a claim for an improper purpose or without support in law or evidence.’” (quoting Sneller v. City of Bainbridge Island, 606 F.3d 636, 638–39 (9th Cit. 2009))).

 

Rashdan v. Geissberger, No. C 10-00634 SBA, 2011 WL 197957, at *7 (N.D. Cal. Jan. 14, 2011) (“Plaintiff is granted leave to amend this claim if she can—in good faith and consistent with the requirements of Rule 11 . . . .”).

 

Mitchell v. Bank of Am., No. 10cv432 L(WVG), 2011 WL 334988, at *3 (S.D. Cal. Jan. 31, 2011) (“[P]laintiffs will be granted leave to file an amended complaint . . . .  Counsel is reminded that ‘Rule 11 authorizes a court to impose a sanction on any attorney, law firm, or party that brings a claim for an improper purpose or without support in law or evidence.’” (quoting Sneller v. City of Bainbridge Island, 606 F.3d 636, 638–39 (9th Cit. 2009))).

 

 


* Assistant Professor of Law, University of Mississippi School of Law.  I would like to thank Stephen Burbank, George Cochran, Scott Dodson, Peter Margulies, Alan Morrison, Farish Percy, Jeff Stempel, Georgene Vairo, Rhonda Wasserman, and Stephen Yeazell for their thoughtful comments on earlier drafts.  I am also grateful to my many colleagues who offered valuable feedback at a University of Mississippi Faculty Workshop as well as those who attended the presentation of this Article at the 2011 Southeastern Association of Law Schools Annual Meeting in Hilton Head, South Carolina.  I would also like to thank the Lamar Order of the University of Mississippi School of Law for its financial support.  D. Eric Schieffer and Patrick Timony provided excellent research assistance.

[1]. 550 U.S. 544 (2007).

[2]. 129 S. Ct. 1937 (2009).

[3]. Access to Justice Denied: Ashcroft v. Iqbal: Hearing Before the Subcomm. on the Constitution, Civil Rights, and Civil Liberties of the H. Comm. on the Judiciary, 111th Cong. 6 (2009) [hereinafter Miller Testimony] (statement of Arthur Miller, Professor, New York University School of Law).

[4]. Kevin M. Clermont & Stephen C. Yeazell, Inventing Tests, Destabilizing Systems, 95 Iowa L. Rev. 821, 823 (2010).  Professor Arthur Miller remarked: “I have spent my whole life with the federal rules, and this is one of the biggest deals I have ever seen.”  Tony Mauro, Groups Unite to Keep Cases on Docket: Plaintiffs’ Lawyers Seek to Stop Dismissals After Iqbal Decision, Nat’l L.J., Sept. 21, 2009, at 1.  Supreme Court practitioner and commentator Thomas C. Goldstein said that “Iqbal is the most significant Supreme Court decision in a decade for day-to-day litigation in the federal courts.”  Adam Liptak, Case About 9/11 Could Lead to a Broad Shift on Civil Lawsuits, N.Y. Times, July 21, 2009, at A10; see also Suzette M. Malveaux, Front Loading and Heavy Lifting: How Pre-Dismissal Discovery Can Address the Detrimental Effect of Iqbal on Civil Rights Cases, 14 Lewis & Clark L. Rev. 65, 80 (2010) (“After over half a century, the pleadings paradigm has undergone a transformation that may fundamentally change the way in which civil actions . . . are initiated and litigated.”); Douglas G. Smith, The Twombly Revolution?, 36 Pepp. L. Rev. 1063, 1063 (2009) (“No decision in recent memory has generated as much interest and is of such potentially sweeping scope as the Supreme Court’s decision in Bell Atlantic Corp. v. Twombly.”).

[5]. A. Benjamin Spencer, Plausibility Pleading, 49 B.C. L. Rev. 431, 431 (2008) [hereinafter Spencer, Plausibility Pleading] (“Notice pleading is dead.  Say hello to plausibility pleading.”); Catherine T. Struve, Procedure as Palimpsest, 158 U. Pa. L. Rev. 421, 421 (2010) (describing Twombly as a “landmark pleading decision”).

[6]. See Iqbal, 129 S. Ct. at 1952.

[7]. See, e.g., Robert G. Bone, Plausibility Pleading Revisited and Revised: A Comment on Ashcroft v. Iqbal, 85 Notre Dame L. Rev. 849 (2010); Robert G. Bone, Twombly, Pleading Rules, and the Regulation of Court Access, 94 Iowa L. Rev. 873 (2009) [hereinafter Bone, Court Access]; Stephen B. Burbank, Pleading and the Dilemmas of “General Rules”, 2009 Wis. L. Rev. 535; Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4; Scott Dodson, Comparative Convergences in Pleading Standards, 158 U. Pa. L. Rev. 441 (2010) [hereinafter Dodson, Comparative Convergences]; Scott Dodson, Pleading Standards After Bell Atlantic Corp. v. Twombly, 93 Va. L. Rev. In Brief 135 (2007), http://www.virginialawreview.org
/inbrief/2007/07/09/dodson.pdf; Richard A. Epstein, Bell Atlantic v. Twombly: How Motions to Dismiss Become (Disguised) Summary Judgments, 25 Wash. U. J.L. & Pol’y 61 (2007); Mark Herrmann, James M. Beck & Stephen B. Burbank, Debate, Plausible Denial: Should Congress Overrule Twombly and Iqbal?, 158 U. Pa. L. Rev. PENNumbra 141 (2009), http:// www.pennumbra.com/debates
/pdfs/PlausibleDenial.pdf; Lonny S. Hoffman, Burn Up the Chaff with Unquenchable Fire: What Two Doctrinal Intersections Can Teach Us About Judicial Power over Pleadings, 88 B.U. L. Rev. 1217 (2008); Allan Ides, Bell Atlantic and the Principle of Substantive Sufficiency Under Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 8(a)(2): Toward a Structured Approach to Federal Pleading Practice, 243 Fed. Rules Decisions 604 (2006); Malveaux, supra note 4; Elizabeth M. Schneider, The Changing Shape of Federal Civil Pretrial Practice: The Disparate Impact on Civil Rights and Employment Discrimination Cases, 158 U. Pa. L. Rev. 517 (2010); Joseph A. Seiner, The Trouble with Twombly: A Proposed Pleading Standard for Employment Discrimination Cases, 2009 U. Ill. L. Rev. 1011; A. Benjamin Spencer, Understanding Pleading Doctrine, 108 Mich. L. Rev. 1 (2009) [hereinafter Spencer, Pleading Doctrine]; A. Benjamin Spencer, Iqbal and the Slide Toward Restrictive Procedure, 14 Lewis & Clark L. Rev. 185 (2010); Paul Stancil, Balancing the Pleading Equation, 61 Baylor L. Rev. 90 (2009); Suja A. Thomas, The New Summary Judgment Motion: The Motion to Dismiss Under Iqbal and Twombly, 14 Lewis & Clark L. Rev. 15 (2010) [hereinafter Thomas, New Summary Judgment]; Suja A. Thomas, Why the Motion to Dismiss Is Now Unconstitutional, 92 Minn L. Rev. 1851 (2008); Elizabeth Thornburg, Law, Facts, and Power, 114 Penn St. L. Rev. Penn Statim 1 (2010), http://www.pennstatelawreview.org/114/114%20Penn
%20Statim%201.pdf; Howard M. Wasserman, Iqbal, Procedural Mismatches, and Civil Rights Litigation, 14 Lewis & Clark L. Rev. 157 (2010).

[8]. See, e.g., Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4.

[9]. See, e.g., Spencer, Pleading Doctrine, supra note 7, at 4 (“In this latest installment of my ongoing project to understand federal civil pleading standards, I turn to an effort to engage in a systematic analysis of contemporary pleading doctrine that will hopefully yield a comprehensive theoretical description of its fundamental components and underlying rationale.”).

[10]. See, e.g., Schneider, supra note 7, at 519–20.

[11]. Kevin M. Clermont, Three Myths About TwomblyIqbal, 45 Wake Forest L. Rev 1337, 1338 (2010) (describing Twombly and Iqbal as “thoroughly novel, quite uncertain, and shakily resting on a foundation laid by a faulty legal process”); see also Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4, at 832 (“No prior model exists to help us understand how to test factual sufficiency now.”); Scott Dodson, Federal Pleading and State Presuit Discovery, 14 Lewis & Clark L. Rev. 43, 44 (2010) [hereinafter Dodson, Presuit Discovery] (“[Twombly and Iqbal] together have transformed federal civil pleading from a seventy-year pleading regime based primarily on notice to a newly-minted ‘plausibility’ regime based primarily on non-conclusory facts.” (footnotes omitted)); Scott Dodson, New Pleading, New Discovery, 109 Mich. L. Rev. 53, 59–60 (2010) (“In [Twombly and Iqbal], the Supreme Court charted a new path in pleadings jurisprudence and established what I call ‘New Pleading.’”); Malveaux, supra note 4, at 80 (“Iqbal has ushered in a new pleading paradigm . . . .”); Adam N. Steinman, The Pleading Problem, 62 Stan. L. Rev. 1293, 1295 (“In Twombly, however, the Supreme Court appeared to endorse a new paradigm—plausibility pleading . . . .”); Struve, supra note 5, at 422 (describing Iqbal and Twombly as a “new approach to pleading”).

[12]. One exception is Professor Suja Thomas who argues that Twombly and Iqbal have caused “the 12(b)(6) dismissal standard [to] converg[e] with the standard for summary judgment.”  Thomas, New Summary Judgment, supra note 7, at 17.  But no commentary has made the comparison set forth in this Article between post-Iqbal pleading and pleading under the 1983 version of Rule 11.

[13]. See, e.g., Bell Atl. Corp. v. Twombly, 550 U.S. 544, 558–59 (2007) (discussing high costs of discovery in antitrust cases).

[14]. Georgene M. Vairo, Rule 11 Sanctions 8 (Richard G. Johnson ed., 3d ed. 2004).

[15]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 11 (1983) (amended 1993) (emphasis added).

[16]. Note, Plausible Pleadings: Developing Standards for Rule 11 Sanctions, 100 Harv. L. Rev. 630, 634 n.18 (1987); see also Liggins v. Morris, 749 F. Supp. 967, 971 (D. Minn. 1990) (“[Inadequately detailed] complaint[s] “will be subject to dismissal for failure to comply with Rule 8 and Rule 11 of the [FRCP].  In addition, the potential application of sanctions in the form of attorney’s fees or other appropriate relief under Rule 11 will be seriously addressed.”); Martin H. Redish & Uma M. Amuluru, The Supreme Court, the Rules Enabling Act, and the Politicization of the Federal Rules: Constitutional and Statutory Implications, 90 Minn. L. Rev. 1303, 1316 (2006) (noting that the 1983 version of Rule 11 served to “constrain the sweeping scope of Rule 8(a)”).

[17]. 5A Charles Alan Wright & Arthur R. Miller, Federal Practice and Procedure § 1332, at 491 (3d ed. 2004); see also Note, supra note 16, at 644–45 (“[T]he [1983 version of] Rule 11 . . . undermine[s] the liberal pleading regime.  In some cases, sanctions imposed under the grounded-in-fact clause threaten simplified pleading and its corollary of liberal discovery.  The grounded-in-fact clause has been construed to demand that both lawyers and judges evaluate the plausibility of claims before they have gained a particularized understanding of the circumstances of those claims.”).

[18]. See, e.g., Dodson, Presuit Discovery, supra note 11, at 51 (noting that the primary impact of Twombly and Iqbal is the imposition of “a fact pleading requirement on Rule 8”).

[19]. See, e.g., Moore v. Keegan Mgmt. Co. (In re Keegan Mgmt. Co. Sec. Litig.), 154 F.R.D. 237, 240 (N.D. Cal. 1994) (noting that under the 1983 version of the rule, for a pleading to be well grounded in fact, “at the time the complaint [was] filed, the attorney [had to] possess evidence, direct or circumstantial, sufficient to support a finding that the allegations [were] reasonably plausible”), rev’d, 78 F.3d 431 (9th Cir. 1996).

[20]. A few commentators have noted the relationship between Iqbal’s plausibility requirement and Rule 11.  Professors Clermont and Yeazell, for example, suggested that the Court “could have less disruptively attained an equivalent of the Twombly and Iqbal regime by aggressively rereading Rule 11 rather than Rule 8.”  Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4, at 849.  Along these same lines, David Noll interprets Iqbal “as an attempt to police the policies underlying Rule 11.”  David Noll, The Indeterminacy of Iqbal, 99 Geo. L.J. 117, 127 (2010).  Specifically, Noll argues that the Iqbal Court “sought to prevent one of the basic problems Rule 11 is directed at—factual allegations ‘without any factual basis or justification.’”  Id. at 127 n.54 (quoting Fed. R. Civ. P. 11 advisory committee’s note (1993)).  Thus, Noll concludes that Iqbal should “be understood to reflect [the Court’s] conclusion that Iqbal lacked reasonable grounds to allege that Ashcroft and Mueller personally acted with a particular purpose.”  Id. at 127.  Others have also noted some connection between Iqbal and Rule 11.  See Bone, Court Access, supra note 7, at 876 (“It makes no sense, for example, to strengthen pleading requirements if the same result can be achieved much better by bolstering Rule 11 sanctions . . . .”); Hoffman, supra note 7, at 1253–54 (“[I]mposing a plausibility requirement at Rule 8(a)(2) is probably close—if not (at least sometimes) equivalent—to the Rule 11(b)(3) proscription against asserting claims for which there is no evidentiary support and no likelihood of evidentiary support after a reasonable opportunity for further discovery.  That is, an allegation that is implausible may also be said to violate Rule 11(b)(3), although neither the majority nor the dissent in Twombly made mention of this possibility.” (footnote omitted)); Bradley Scott Shannon, I Have Federal Pleading All Figured Out, 61 Case W. Res. L. Rev. 453, 480 (2010) (describing Rule 11 as the “elephant in the (court)room”).  None of these commentators, however, have explored the relationship between Iqbal and the 1983 version of the rule.

[21]. See supra notes 7–10 and accompanying text.  For this criticism of the 1983 version of Rule 11, see Paul D. Carrington & Andrew Wasson, A Reflection on Rulemaking: The Rule 11 Experience, 37 Loy. L.A. L. Rev. 563, 566–67 (2004) (“Rule 11 became a celebrated issue. . . . Three excellent books by distinguished authors sought to state or restate the law of Rule 11.  In addition, scores of law review articles were written.  No other single procedure rule in the nation’s history was ever given so much critical attention.” (footnote omitted)).

[22]. See infra Part V.B.

[23]. See infra notes 176–77 and accompanying text.

[24]. See infra Part V.C.

[25]. See infra Part V.D.

[26]. Amendments to the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure, 146 F.R.D. 401, 507 (1993) (Scalia, J., dissenting).

[27]. Charles Yablon, Hindsight, Regret, and Safe Harbors in Rule 11 Litigation, 37 Loy. L.A. L. Rev. 599, 611 (2004) (“There is no doubt that Rule 11 got some of its teeth pulled in 1993 . . . .”).

[28]. Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4, at 824.

[29]. See Miller Testimony, supra note 3, at 9.

[30]. Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4, at 824.

[31]. Id.; see Has the Supreme Court Limited Americans’ Access to Courts?: Hearing Before the S. Comm. on the Judiciary, 111th Cong. 88 (2009) [hereinafter Burbank Testimony] (statement of Stephen B. Burbank, David Berger Professor for the Administration of Justice, University of Pennsylvania Law School) (“Those who drafted the Federal Rules objected to fact pleading because it led to wasteful disputes about distinctions—among ‘facts,’ ‘conclusions,’ and ‘evidence’—that they thought were arbitrary or metaphysical.”); Spencer, Plausibility Pleading, supra note 5, at 434 (characterizing the pre-1938 pleading rules as a “cumbersome and inelegant code pleading system that required the pleading of ‘ultimate facts’ rather than mere ‘evidentiary facts’ or ‘conclusions’” (footnote omitted)).

[32]. Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4, at 824 (“[T]he rulemakers felt that [the older system] asked too much of the pleading stage, which consequently had become the center of legal attention, ended up mired down in battles over technicalities, and provided a vehicle for monumental abuse.”).

[33]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 8(d)(1).

[34]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 8(a)(2).

[35]. Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4, at 824.

[36]. Burbank Testimony, supra note 31, at 89.

[37]. Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4, at 824–25 (alterations in original) (discussing Fed. R. Civ. P. form 11).  Rule 84 provides that “[t]he forms in the Appendix suffice under these rules and illustrate the simplicity and brevity that these rules contemplate.”  Fed. R. Civ. P. 84.

[38]. 355 U.S. 41 (1957).

[39]. Id. at 47.

[40]. Id. (emphasis added).

[41]. Id. at 45–46.  Several commentators have noted that when the Conley Court uttered its famous “no set of facts” phrase, it was talking about the legal sufficiency of the complaint rather than factual sufficiency.  See, e.g., Stephen B. Burbank, Pleading and the Dilemmas of Modern American Procedure, 93 Judicature 109, 113 (2009); Wendy Gerwick Couture, Conley v. Gibson’s “No Set of Facts” Test: Neither Cancer nor Cure, 114 Penn St. L. Rev. Penn Statim 19 (2010), http://pennstatelawreview.org/114/114%20Penn%20Statim%2019
.pdf.  As Professor Couture explained, courts, including the Twombly Court, have “conflate[ed]” the two tests, “treating them as synonymous.”  Id. at 28.  Thus, some commentators have argued that the Twombly Court’s “retirement” of this phrase is not particularly significant.  E.g., id. at 29 (“[T]he ‘no set of facts’ test is not the cancer maligned by the Twombly Court.”).  Because so many courts understand the “no set of facts” test to be about factual sufficiency, however, the Court’s retirement of that language is meaningful at least in the sense that it has signaled to lower courts the need for more detailed factual pleading.

[42]. Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4, at 825.

[43]. Id.; Spencer, Plausibility Pleading, supra note 5, at 434 (“[S]ubsequent stages of the litigation process would enable the litigants to narrow the issues and test the validity and strength of asserted claims.”).

[44]. Vairo, supra note 14, at 4–10.  Before the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure were enacted in 1938, courts had the inherent (and after 1918, statutory) power to sanction lawyers, but traditionally, that power was rarely used.  Id. at 4–5.

[45]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 11 (1938).

[46]. Vairo, supra note 14, at 7.

[47]. Id. at 7–10.

[48]. Id. at 9 (“Sanctions were imposed only in the most compelling situations.”); 5A Wright & Miller, supra note 17, § 1331, at 461 (“By the early 1980’s experience had shown that Rule 11 rarely was utilized and appeared to be ineffective in deterring abuses in federal civil litigation.  A significant contributing factor apparently was the inherent ambiguity of the original rule.” (footnote omitted)).

[49]. Vairo, supra note 14, at 3.

[50]. The other changes involved discovery and case management.  See, e.g., Fed. R. Civ. P. 16 advisory committee’s note (1983) (facilitating “judicial control” over litigation so that cases may be “disposed of . . . more efficiently and with less cost and delay”); Fed. R. Civ. P. 26 advisory committee’s note (1983) (explaining that the 1983 amendments to Rule 26 were intended to address “[e]xcessive discovery and evasion or resistance to reasonable discovery requests”).

[51]. Vairo, supra note 14, at 8 (citing Fed. R. Civ. P. 11 advisory committee’s note (1983)).

[52]. 5A Wright & Miller, supra note 17, § 1331, at 472.

[53]. Id.

[54]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 11 (1983).

[55]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 11 advisory committee’s note (1983) (emphasis added).

[56]. Redish & Amuluru, supra note 16, at 1316.

[57]. See Stephen N. Subrin, Teaching Civil Procedure While You Watch It Disintegrate, 59 Brook. L. Rev. 1155, 1163–64 (1993) (describing Rule 8(a) and Rule 11 as “almost self-contradictory”).

[58]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 8(a)(2).

[59]. Note, supra note 16, at 647.

[60]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 11 (1983) (emphasis added).

[61]. Note, supra note 16, at 634.

[62]. See, e.g., Simpson v. Welch, 900 F.2d 33, 36 (4th Cir. 1990) (“The fact that appellant’s complaint was vague and conclusory does not justify sanctions under Rule 11.”); Frantz v. U.S. Powerlifting Fed’n, 836 F.2d 1063, 1068 (7th Cir. 1987) (“Rule 11 requires not that counsel plead the facts but that counsel know facts . . . .  Rule 11 neither modifies the ‘notice pleading’ approach of the federal rules nor requires counsel to prove the case in advance of discovery.”); Computer Place, Inc. v. Hewlett-Packard Co., 607 F. Supp. 822, 832 n.11 (N.D. Cal. 1984) (“[Rule 11] requires a reasonable inquiry into the facts underlying allegations; it does not increase the requirements of Rule 8.”), aff’d, 779 F.2d 56 (9th Cir. 1985).

[63]. Note, supra note 16, at 634 n.18; see, e.g., Hale v. Harney, 786 F.2d 688, 692 (5th Cir. 1986) (holding that sanctions were an appropriate punishment for failure to meet Rule 11’s “requirement that the pleader’s belief be one ‘formed after reasonable inquiry’”); Liggins v. Morris, 749 F. Supp. 967, 971 (D. Minn. 1990) (“[Inadequately detailed] complaint[s] will be subject to dismissal for failure to comply with Rule 8 and Rule 11 of the [FRCP].  In addition, the potential application of sanctions in the form of attorney’s fees or other appropriate relief under Rule 11 will be seriously addressed.”); Cashco Oil Co. v. Moses, 605 F. Supp. 70, 71 (N.D. Ill. 1985) (“Rule 11 now imposes a more stringent standard on a party’s or its lawyers’ allegations than heretofore, and this Court expects such allegations to have the kind of factual and legal foundation the new standards require.” (citation omitted)); Rodgers v. Lincoln Towing Serv., Inc., 596 F. Supp. 13, 20–21 (N.D. Ill. 1984) (dismissing claims for failure “to make ‘reasonable inquiry’ to see that ‘it is well grounded in fact’” per Rule 11), aff’d, 771 F.2d 194 (7th Cir. 1985).  But see Am. Judicature Soc’y, Rule 11 in Transition: The Report of the Third Circuit Task Force on Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 11, at 95 (1989) (concluding that “Rule 11 motions are not routine” and “Rule 11 has had effects on the pre-filing conduct of many attorneys . . . of the sort hoped for by the rulemakers”).

[64]. Vairo, supra note 14, at 14; see Arthur R. Miller, The Pretrial Rush to Judgment: Are the “Litigation Explosion,” “Liability Crisis,” and Efficiency Clichés Eroding Our Day in Court and Jury Trial Commitments?, 78 N.Y.U. L. Rev. 982, 1007 (2003) (“The strengthening of Rule 11 [in 1983] created a theoretically significant barrier to entering the judicial system.”).  The heightened pleading standard raised a particular problem for plaintiffs in cases in which the defendants controlled the relevant information.  See, e.g., Johnson ex rel. Johnson v. United States, 788 F.2d 845, 856 (2d Cir. 1986) (Pratt, J., dissenting) (describing the “‘Catch 22’ barrier [facing plaintiffs]: no information until litigation, but no litigation without information”).

[65]. 5A Wright & Miller, supra note 17, § 1332, at 491; see Melissa L. Nelken, Sanctions Under Amended Federal Rule 11—Some “Chilling” Problems in the Struggle Between Compensation and Punishment, 74 Geo. L.J. 1313, 1342 (1986) (“[A]s a practical matter lawyers may perceive that greater specificity in pleading is required, if for no other reason than to ward off a motion for sanctions.  Such an outcome would increase the potential chilling effect of the rule’s reasonable inquiry standard by introducing the threat of sanctions for pleadings that otherwise meet the rule 8(a)(2) requirement of a ‘short and plain statement of the claim.’  It would also be at odds with the policy of permitting less-than-certain claims to proceed to discovery—a policy that has survived numerous attacks in the years since the federal rules were adopted.” (footnotes omitted)); Note, supra note 16, at 644–45.

[66]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 11 advisory committee’s note (1983).

[67]. See Cooter & Gell v. Hartmarx Corp., 496 U.S. 384, 403–04 (1990).

[68]. See, e.g., Black Hills Inst. of Geological Research v. S.D. Sch. of Mines & Tech., 12 F.3d 737, 745 (8th Cir. 1993) (“Improperly naming a party in a suit justifies Rule 11 sanctions when ‘joining the party [is] baseless or lacking in plausibility.’”); Pelletier v. Zweifel, 921 F.2d 1465, 1514 n.88 (11th Cir. 1991) (noting that among the factors for the court to consider in determining whether claims are sanctionable is “the plausibility of the argument”); Repp v. Webber, 142 F.R.D. 398, 403 (S.D.N.Y. 1992) (rejecting sanctions where “[p]laintiffs’ arguments have a plausible basis in fact and existing law”); Port Drum Co. v. Umphrey, 119 F.R.D. 26, 28 (E.D. Tex. 1988) (“Undoubtedly, the rule is intended to insure the veracity of allegations and plausibility of legal arguments to a reasonable degree.”); Harris v. Marsh, 679 F. Supp. 1204, 1385 (E.D.N.C. 1987) (“Before a litigation document is filed, its basis in law and fact must be considered.  If counsel or parties initiate litigation or interpose defenses without first considering the plausibility of their contentions, such conduct, even if not intentionally executed in bad faith, nevertheless is sanctionable.” (footnote omitted)), modified, 123 F.R.D. 204 (E.D.N.C. 1988), aff’d in part, rev’d in part sub nom. Blue v. U.S. Dep’t of the Army, 914 F.2d 525 (4th Cir. 1990).

[69]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 11 (1983) (“[T]he court . . . shall impose . . . an appropriate sanction.”); 5A Wright & Miller, supra note 17, § 1331, at 473.

[70]. 5A Wright & Miller, supra note 17, § 1331, at 473.

[71]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 11 (1983) (“[T]he court, upon motion or upon its own initiative, shall impose upon the person who signed it . . . an appropriate sanction, which may include an order to pay to the other party or parties the amount of the reasonable expenses incurred because of the filing of the pleading, motion, or other paper, including a reasonable attorney’s fee.”).

[72]. 5A Wright & Miller, supra note 17, § 1336.3, at 681; Nelken, supra note 65, at 1333 (concluding that courts awarded attorney’s fees as a sanction in ninety-six percent of reported cases in which there was a Rule 11 violation); see also Am. Judicature Soc’y, supra note 63, at 36–40 (discussing the prevalence and appropriateness of Rule 11 as an “expense-shifting” statute).

[73]. Georgene Vairo, Rule 11 and the Profession, 67 Fordham L. Rev. 589, 599 (1998) [hereinafter Vairo, Profession].

[74]. Id. at 589, 599.

[75]. 5A Wright & Miller, supra note 17, § 1331, at 474.

            [76].            Vairo, Profession, supra note 73, at 598.

[77]. Vairo, supra note 14, at 13–14 (discussing concerns about “satellite litigation”).

[78]. Redish & Amuluru, supra note 16, at 1316 (“By effectively expanding the scope of the parties’ burdens at the pleading stage, the 1983 version of Rule 11 dramatically impacted the ability of plaintiffs to enforce their substantive rights . . . .”).

[79]. 5A Wright & Miller, supra note 17, § 1332, at 489; see Vairo, supra note 14, at 14–15 (discussing concerns about chilling effects of 1983 amendments).

[80]. Georgene M. Vairo, Rule 11: A Critical Analysis, 118 Fed. Rules Decisions 189, 200 (1988) [hereinafter Vairo, Critical Analysis]; see Nelken, supra note 65, at 1327 (“[R]ule 11 sanctions issues have tended to recur in certain kinds of cases.  Although civil rights cases accounted for only 7.6% of the civil filings between 1983 and 1985, 22.3% of the rule 11 cases involve civil rights claims.”); Note, supra note 16, at 631 (“Although almost every major lawsuit now includes at least the threat of a rule 11 motion, sanctions are more likely to be imposed in public interest litigation, such as civil rights and employment discrimination cases, than in other types of federal litigation.” (footnote omitted)).  But see Am. Judicature Soc’y, supra note 63, at 69 (finding “less reason for concern” at least in the Third Circuit).  Professor Burbank, the reporter for the Third Circuit study, criticized the work of Professor Vairo and others for relying on reported cases, while Professor Burbank’s Third Circuit study also included unreported cases.  In some instances, however, Professor Burbank’s conclusions were consistent with studies that examined reported cases only.  See infra note 82.

[81]. Vairo, supra note 14, at 16.

[82]. Am. Judicature Soc’y, supra note 63, at 110 (finding complaint at issue in 70 of 140 Rule 11 motions); see also Miller, supra note 64, at 1007–08 (“[T]he 1983 Rule was criticized for having a disproportionate impact, particularly in areas of the law considered ‘disfavored’ by some, such as civil rights cases . . . .”).

[83]. Thomas E. Willging, Fed. Judicial Ctr., The Rule 11 Sanctioning Process 77, 78 tbl.12 (1988) (finding complaint at issue in 44 of 76 Rule 11 motions).

[84]. Miller, supra note 64, at 1008 (“After several years of extraordinary activity under the [1983] Rule, a comprehensive study by the Federal Judicial Center . . . revealed that Rule 11 motions were filed much more frequently by defendants, that defendants’ motions were granted with greater frequency, and that Rule 11 motions were filed disproportionately more often in civil rights cases, although the grant rate was not necessarily higher.” (footnote omitted)); see Townsend v. Holman Consulting Corp., 929 F.2d 1358, 1363–64 (9th Cir. 1991) (en banc) (“Were vigorous advocacy to be chilled by the excessive use of sanctions, wrongs would go uncompensated.  Attorneys, because of fear of sanctions, might turn down cases on behalf of individuals seeking to have the courts recognize new rights.  They might also refuse to represent persons whose rights have been violated but whose claims are not likely to produce large damage awards.  This is because attorneys would have to figure into their costs of doing business the risk of unjustified awards of sanctions.”); George Cochran, Rule 11: The Road to Amendment, 61 Miss. L.J. 5, 11 (1991) (“With no clear distinction having been drawn between a position which is ‘merely losing’ and that which is both ‘losing and sanctionable,’ Rule 11 is a blueprint for conservatism.” (footnote omitted)).

[85]. Willging, supra note 83, at 167 (“Whether it can be classified as a chilling effect or not, lawyers reported a cautioning effect of rule 11.”).

[86]. Vairo, supra note 14, at 42–43.  Another significant criticism of the amended rule was that district courts were applying it “unpredictably.”  5A Wright & Miller, supra note 17, § 1332, at 481.  This inconsistent application of the rule undoubtedly contributed to its chilling effect.  See Cochran, supra note 84, at 9 (“[O]n the same set of facts, almost half of judges surveyed would have sanctioned a complaint as frivolous which the other half determined not to violate the Rule. . . . Lawyers sanctioned by the district court for bringing ‘frivolous’ cases, have secured reversals not only of sanctions but also on the merits.” (footnote omitted)).

[87]. Nelken, supra note 65, at 1329.

[88]. See Carl Tobias, Rule 11 Recalibrated in Civil Rights Cases, 36 Vill. L. Rev. 105, 105–06 (1991) (“As the federal judiciary enters its eighth year of implementing the Rule, courts apparently have improved their application of it by becoming more solicitous of the needs of civil rights plaintiffs and their counsel, in recognition of the important social function that civil rights litigation fulfills in combating discrimination.”).

[89]. See, e.g., Cochran, supra note 84, at 6 (“My concerns are the ones shared by many who have followed the tortuous path taken since 1983: the stifling of creative litigation, the devastating professional and financial consequences to attorneys litigating in good faith, and a new form of time-consuming, destructive satellite litigation which should not be tolerated.”).

[90]. 5A Wright & Miller, supra note 17, § 1331, at 478; see Fed. R. Civ. P. 11 advisory committee’s note (1993) (“The revision . . . places greater constraints on the imposition of sanctions and should reduce the number of motions for sanctions presented to the court.”).

[91]. The Federal Rules of Civil Procedure were subsequently restyled in 2007, but the restyling was not meant to make any substantive changes to the rules.  Fed. R. Civ. P. 11 advisory committee’s note (2007).  Because those changes were merely stylistic, I cite throughout this section to the current version of the rule.

[92]. Yablon, supra note 27, at 611; see 5A Wright & Miller, supra note 17, § 1331, at 478 (“By adding a safe harbor provision and reducing monetary incentives that might encourage private parties to seek sanctions under the rule through its emphasis on the use of fines paid to the court rather than the opposing party, the Rule 11 now in force seeks to reduce the litigation that the prior rule had generated.  In addition, by making the imposition of sanctions discretionary rather than mandatory and emphasizing the importance of a party’s ability to pay as a factor in determining whether to levy sanctions or not, the current rule seeks to protect litigants who have fewer resources and thus prevent the unfair application of the rule.” (footnote omitted)); see also Carrington & Wasson, supra note 21, at 571 (noting that the 1993 amendments sought to lessen the chilling effect on civil rights plaintiffs by adding “both the safe harbor provision protecting counsel from sanctions if the sanctionable filing is timely withdrawn after its defects have been pointed out by the adversary, and the preference for non-monetary sanctions”).

[93]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 11(c)(1) (“If . . . the court determines that Rule 11(b) has been violated, the court may impose an appropriate sanction on any attorney . . . .” (emphasis added)).  See generally 5A Wright & Miller, supra note 17, § 1336.1, at 648 (discussing the transition from a mandatory to a discretionary rule).

[94]. Vairo, supra note 14, at 32.

[95]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 11(c)(2) (“The motion [for sanctions] . . . must not be filed or be presented to the court if the challenged paper, claim, defense, contention, or denial is withdrawn or appropriately corrected within 21 days after service . . . .”).

[96]. 5A Wright & Miller, supra note 17, § 1337.2, at 722.

[97]. Id. § 1336.3, at 689.

[98]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 11(c)(4).

[99]. 5A Wright & Miller, supra note 17, § 1336.3, at 689.

[100]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 11 advisory committee’s note (1993).

[101]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 11 (1983).

[102]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 11(b)(3) (emphasis added).  Notably, Justice Scalia and Justice Thomas disagreed with the amendments, and Justice Scalia wrote a dissenting opinion.  Amendments to the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure, 146 F.R.D. 401, 507 (1993) (Scalia, J., dissenting).

[103]. Miller, supra note 64, at 1009; Vairo, Profession, supra note 73, at 643.

[104]. Vairo, Profession, supra note 73, at 643.  But see generally Danielle Kie Hart, Still Chilling After All These Years: Rule 11 of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure and Its Impact on Federal Civil Rights Plaintiffs After the 1993 Amendments, 37 Val. U. L. Rev. 1 (2002) (examining why the 1993 amendments have not been more successful at reducing the rule’s chilling effects, especially for civil rights plaintiffs); Carl Tobias, Civil Rights Plaintiffs and the Proposed Changes to Rule 11, 77 Iowa L. Rev. 1775 (1992) (analyzing the proposal of the 1993 amendments on civil rights plaintiffs).

[105]. Vairo, supra note 14, at 77; see, e.g., Hadges v. Yonkers Racing Corp., 48 F.3d 1320, 1327 (2d Cir. 1995) (reversing the imposition of sanctions by the district court because, inter alia, the 1993 amendments were meant to liberalize the “standard for compliance”); Weinreich v. Sandhaus, 156 F.R.D. 60, 63 (S.D.N.Y. 1994) (“[C]ourts ‘must strive to avoid the wisdom of hindsight . . . and any and all doubts must be resolved in favor’ of the party that signed the allegedly sanctionable document.” (second alteration in original) (quoting Eastway Constr. Corp. v. City of New York, 762 F.2d 243, 254 (2d Cir. 1985))).

[106]. Vairo, supra note 14, at 78.

[107]. New York v. Solvent Chem. Co., 875 F. Supp. 1015, 1020 (W.D.N.Y. 1995).

[108]. Tafhs v. Proctor, 316 F.3d 584, 594 (6th Cir. 2003); see also Team Obsolete Ltd. v. A.H.R.M.A. Ltd., 216 F.R.D. 29, 44 (E.D.N.Y. 2003) (“The mere fact that the plaintiffs fail to state a claim . . . does not mean that Rule 11 sanctions should be imposed.  ‘Otherwise Rule 11 sanctions would be imposed whenever a complaint was dismissed, thereby transforming it into a fee shifting statute under which the loser pays.’” (quoting Harlyn Sales Corp. Profit Sharing Plan v. Kemper Fin. Servs., Inc., 9 F.3d 1263, 1270 (7th Cir. 1993))); Mover’s & Warehousemen’s Ass’n of Greater New York, Inc. v. Long Island Moving & Storage Ass’n, No. 98CV-5373(SJ), 1999 WL 1243054, at *8 (E.D.N.Y. Dec. 16, 1999) (“That plaintiff’s claims do not survive a motion to dismiss render them neither frivolous nor necessarily untrue; they are merely insufficiently alleged.”).

[109]. 534 U.S. 506 (2002).

[110]. Steinman, supra note 11, at 1301.

[111]. Id. (alteration in original) (quoting Amended Complaint at 37, Swierkiewicz v. Sorema N.A., No. 99-Civ.-12272 (S.D.N.Y. Apr. 19, 2000)); see Swierkiewicz, 534 U.S. at 509.

[112]. Swierkiewicz, 534 U.S. at 514–15.

[113]. Id. at 513.

[114]. Id. at 514 (second alteration in original) (quoting Hishon v. King & Spalding, 467 U.S. 69, 73 (1984)).

[115]. Spencer, Plausibility Pleading, supra note 5, at 436 (“Over the next fifty years, the Supreme Court never wavered from these principles.”); Steinman, supra note 11, at 1302 (“Before Twombly, it was clear that this approach to pleading governed all actions in federal court, except for a discrete number of issues for which a stricter standard was explicitly imposed by statute or rule.”).

[116]. Christopher M. Fairman, The Myth of Notice Pleading, 45 Ariz. L. Rev. 987, 988 (2003) (noting that some lower courts “impose non-Rule-based heightened pleading in direct contravention of notice pleading doctrine”).

[117]. The named plaintiffs represented a massive putative class “consisting of all ‘subscribers of local telephone and/or high speed internet services . . . from February 8, 1996 to present.’”  Bell Atl. Corp. v. Twombly, 550 U.S. 544, 550 (2007) (alteration in original) (quoting Consolidated Amended Class Action Complaint ¶ 53, Twombly v. Bell Atl. Corp., 313 F. Supp. 2d 174 (S.D.N.Y. 2003) (No. 02 CIV. 10220 (GEL))).

[118]. Id. at 548 (alteration in original).

[119]. Id. at 550–51.

[120]. In the complaint, the plaintiffs alleged agreement as follows:

In the absence of any meaningful competition between the [defendants] in one another’s markets, and in light of the parallel course of conduct that each engaged in to prevent competition . . . within their respective local telephone and/or high speed internet services markets and the other facts and market circumstances alleged above, Plaintiffs allege upon information and belief that [the defendants] have entered into a contract, combination or conspiracy to prevent competitive entry in their respective local telephone and/or high speed internet services markets and have agreed not to compete with one another and otherwise allocated consumers and markets to one another.

Id. at 551.

[121]. Id. at 552.

[122]. Id. at 570.

[123]. Id. at 557.

[124]. Id. at 564 & n.9.

[125]. Id. at 565–67.

[126]. Id. at 553–54 (emphasis added).

[127]. Id. at 556.

[128]. Id. at 557 (alteration in original); see also id. at 555 (“Factual allegations must be enough to raise a right to relief above the speculative level . . . .”); id. at 570 (“Because the plaintiffs here have not nudged their claims across the line from conceivable to plausible, their complaint must be dismissed.”).

[129]. Id. at 562–63.

[130]. Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4, at 827.

[131]. Twombly, 550 U.S. at 559.

[132]. Steinman, supra note 11, at 1305.

[133]. Id.

[134]. Id. at 1306.

[135]. Ashcroft v. Iqbal 129 S. Ct. 1937, 1942 (2009).

[136]. Id. at 1944.

[137]. Id. (alteration in original).

[138]. Id. at 1952.

[139]. Id. at 1949 (alteration in original) (citation omitted) (quoting Bell Atl. Corp. v. Twombly, 550 U.S. 544, 555, 557 (2007)).

[140]. Id. (quoting Twombly, 550 U.S. at 570).

[141]. Id. at 1951 (quoting First Amended Complaint and Jury Demand ¶¶ 10, 11, 96, Elmaghraby v. Ashcroft, No. 04 CV 01809 JG SMG, 2005 WL 2375202 (E.D.N.Y. Sept. 27, 2005)).

[142]. Id. at 1951 (quoting Twombly, 550 U.S. at 555).

[143]. Id.

[144]. Id. at 1952 (alteration in original) (quoting Twombly, 550 U.S. at 570).

[145]. Id. at 1953.

[146]. Id. (citation omitted) (quoting Fed. R. Civ. P. 1).

[147]. E.g., id. (“It is no answer to say that a claim just shy of a plausible entitlement to relief can, if groundless, be weeded out early in the discovery process through careful case management given the common lament that the success of judicial supervision in checking discovery abuse has been on the modest side.” (quoting Twombly, 550 U.S. at 559)).

[148]. Clermont, supra note 11, at 1363–71 (debunking the myth that “The TwomblyIqbal Justices Didn’t Really Mean It”).

[149]. See, e.g., Edward A. Hartnett, Taming Twombly, Even After Iqbal, 158 U. Pa. L. Rev. 473, 474–75 (2010); Allan R. Stein, Confining Iqbal, 45 Tulsa L. Rev. 277, 302–03 (2009) (arguing Iqbal was a special case that will not change pleading standards in ordinary cases); Steinman, supra note 11, at 1320–21; see also Noll, supra note 20, at 147–49.

[150]. Iqbal, 129 S. Ct. at 1953; see also Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4, at 840 (noting that the Twombly and Iqbal opinions “are generalized interpretations of Rule 8, not a good-for-this-trip-only reading for antitrust and Bivens cases” (footnote omitted)).

[151]. Steinman, supra note 11, at 1295 n.9; see id. at app.

[152]. Spencer, Plausibility Pleading, supra note 5, at 431–32; see Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4, at 829–30 (“[T]he Court in these two cases added a requirement . . . that goes above and beyond having to give notice.”).

[153]. Iqbal, 129 S. Ct. at 1949.

[154]. See id. at 1951.

[155]. Id. at 1949.

[156]. Bell Atl. Corp. v. Twombly, 550 U.S. 544, 570 (2007); see Iqbal, 129 S. Ct. at 1950–51.

[157]. Iqbal, 129 S. Ct. at 1950.

[158]. See Kasten v. Ford Motor Co., No. 09-11754, 2009 WL 3628012, at *7 (E.D. Mich. Oct. 30, 2009) (“What is not clear going forward from Iqbal, is how much factual content is necessary to give the defendant fair notice, and how much content is necessary to ‘nudge claims’ from merely conceivable to plausible.  There is no roadmap for courts to distinguish between conclusory and well-pled factual allegations, and then determine whether such well-pled facts plausibly give rise to an entitlement to relief.  If, as the Supreme Court suggests, determining plausibility is ‘a context-specific task that requires the reviewing court to draw on its judicial experience and common sense,’ there may be no exacting standard for courts to use in evaluating complaints under [Rule] 8(a).” (citations omitted)); Mark Moller, Procedure’s Ambiguity, 86 Ind. L.J. 645, 645–46 (2011) (arguing that “[f]ew Supreme Court opinions are as deeply inscrutable as” Twombly and Iqbal).

[159]. Dodson, Presuit Discovery, supra note 11, at 51.

[160]. Id.

[161]. Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4, at 830.

[162]. Id. at 832–33 (“[F]or the first time, pleadings must undergo a test not for factual detail, but for factual convincingness.”).

[163]. See sources cited supra note 7.

[164]. See sources cited supra note 11.

[165]. Ashcroft v. Iqbal, 129 S. Ct. 1937, 1953 (2009); see supra Part II.

[166]. Carrington & Wasson, supra note 21, at 567 (“No other single procedure rule in the nation’s history was ever given so much critical attention.”).

[167]. Steinman, supra note 11, at 1295 n.9.

[168]. See Vairo, supra note 14, at 2–3 nn.6–10 (collecting sources).

[169]. Id. at 14 (“Rule 11’s duty of reasonable inquiry seemed to affect the accepted standard for pleading under Rule 8(a) . . . .”).

[170]. Note, supra note 16, at 634 n.18; see, e.g., Gallagher v. Kopera, 789 F. Supp. 277, 278 (N.D. Ill. 1992) (“[A]llegations made on information and belief violate Rule 11.”); Liggins v. Morris, 749 F. Supp. 967, 971 (D. Minn. 1990) (stating that inadequately detailed complaints “will be subject to dismissal for failure to comply with Rule 8 and Rule 11”); Cashco Oil Co. v. Moses, 605 F. Supp. 70, 71–72 (N.D. Ill. 1985) (striking claims sua sponte that contained allegations without “the kind of factual and legal foundation” required by Rule 11); Rodgers v. Lincoln Towing Serv., Inc., 596 F. Supp. 13, 20 (N.D. Ill. 1984) (finding attorney violated Rule 11 by alleging facts without any “reasonable factual basis” for believing them to be true), aff’d, 771 F.2d 194 (7th Cir. 1985).  But see Am. Judicature Soc’y, supra note 63, at 95 (“Rule 11 has had effects on the pre-filing conduct of many attorneys in this circuit of the sort hoped for by the rulemakers and has yielded other benefits.”).

[171]. Note, supra note 16, at 644–45.

[172]. Id. at 649–51.

[173]. See supra Part IV.C; see also Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4, at 829 (“[T]he Court in these two cases added a requirement . . . that goes above and beyond having to give notice.” (footnote omitted)).

[174]. Bell Atl. Corp. v. Twombly 550 U.S. 544, 570 (2007); see Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4, at 826.

[175]. Dodson, Presuit Discovery, supra note 11, at 51.

[176]. Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4, at 830.

[177]. 5A Wright & Miller, supra note 17, § 1332, at 491 (discussing the 1983 version of Rule 11).

[178]. Cochran, supra note 84, at 9 (footnote omitted).

[179]. Liptak, supra note 4 (quoting Professor Stephen B. Burbank); see also Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4, at 840 (“In merely describing the Supreme Court’s new test, we all but established that its meaning is very unclear. . . . Judges will vary in finding nonconclusory allegations of a complaint implausible after considering the specific ‘context’ of the case and applying ‘judicial experience and common sense.’”).

[180]. See Subrin, supra note 57, at 1163–64 (arguing that Rule 8(a) and Rule 11 are “almost self-contradictory”).

[181]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 8(a)(2).

[182]. Note, supra note 16, at 647.

[183]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 11 (1983) (amended 1993).

[184]. Hoffman, supra note 7, at 1253–54 (“[I]mposing a plausibility requirement at Rule 8(a)(2) is probably close—if not (at least sometimes) equivalent—to the Rule 11(b)(3) proscription against asserting claims for which there is no evidentiary support and no likelihood of evidentiary support after a reasonable opportunity for further discovery.”); see also Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4, at 849 n.104 (“As things have worked out, the new toughness under TwomblyIqbal does not mesh easily with the relative leniency under [Rule] 11(b)(3).  On the one hand, a TwomblyIqbal dismissal should not necessarily imply a Rule 11 violation for lack of evidentiary support.  On the other hand, a plaintiff with very little knowledge of the facts apparently could use such specifically identified allegations to circumvent TwomblyIqbal initially, but would then likely fall to a Rule 11 motion.” (citation omitted)).

[185]. Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4, at 849.

[186]. See supra Part III.

[187]. See supra notes 103–08 and accompanying text.

[188]. Compare Bloomfield Condo. Assocs. v. Drasco, No. 08-6159, 2010 WL 2652465, at *4 (D.N.J. June 25, 2010) (sanctioning plaintiff for complaint that contained “no plausible basis [for relief], other than bald assertions”), and Catcove Corp. v. Heaney, 685 F. Supp. 2d 328, 338–39 (E.D.N.Y. 2010) (sanctioning plaintiff for filing a “wholly conclusory Amended Complaint”), with Eastway Constr. Corp. v. City of New York, 762 F.2d 243, 254 (2d Cir. 1985).

[189]. See infra Part V.C.

[190]. Cooney v. BAC Home Loans Servicing, LP, No. 10-4066 (JBS/JS), 2011 WL 2517045, at *2 (D.N.J., June 22, 2011) (citing Twombly, Iqbal, and Fed. R. Civ. P. 11(b)(3) for the proposition that “a complaint must allege, in more than legal boilerplate, [plausible] facts about the conduct of each defendant giving rise to liability”); Sampson v. Sampson, No. 10-2008 (JSB/KMW), 2011 WL 2473389, at *2 (D.N.J., June 20, 2011) (same); T.B. ex rel. J.K. v. Mount Laurel Bd. of Educ., No. 09-4780 (JBS/KMW), 2011 WL 2473327, at *5 (D.N.J., June 20, 2011) (same); Major Tours, Inc. v. Colorel, 720 F. Supp. 2d 587, 603–04 (D.N.J. 2010) (same).

[191]. Fed. R. Civ. P. 11(b)(3); see also Spencer, Plausibility Pleading, supra note 5, at 469 (“[T]he Court’s strict reading of Rule 8(a)(2) is at odds with . . . Rule 11(b)’s allowance of pleadings that depend on future discovery for their validation . . . .”); id. at 485–86 (“One can say then that the Twombly Court’s statement that the plausibility standard would make sure that there is a ‘reasonably founded hope that the [discovery] process will reveal relevant evidence’ in support of the claim steps directly on the toes of Rule 11 because under that rule counsel already are certifying that asserted claims and allegations are warranted by the evidence or are likely to have such support after discovery.” (alteration in original) (footnote omitted)).

[192]. Spencer, Plausibility Pleading, supra note 5, at 471.

[193]. By its terms, the rule applied (and continues to apply) to “[e]very pleading, written motion, and other paper” submitted to the court except discovery materials.  Fed. R. Civ. P. 11 (1983).

[194]. Jeffrey W. Stempel, Sanctions, Symmetry, and Safe Harbors: Limiting Misapplication of Rule 11 by Harmonizing It with Pre-Verdict Dismissal Devices, 60 Fordham L. Rev. 257, 267 (1991).

[195]. Vairo, supra note 14, at 16.

[196]. Stempel, supra note 194, at 267.

[197]. Georgene Vairo, Who Makes the Rules, L.A. Daily J., Aug. 26, 2009, at 6.

[198]. Alison Frankel, Two More ‘Iqbal’ Dismissals Emerge in Product Liability Cases, Am. Law. (Aug. 3, 2009), http://www.law.com/jsp/tal/digestTAL
.jsp?id=1202432731838.

[199]. Model Rules of Prof’l Conduct R. 1.1 (2007).

[200]. Clermont & Yeazell, supra note 4, at 840.

[201]. Id. (“The plaintiff’s response to [an Iqbal] motion will provide a cheap form of discovery for the defendant”).  Although Iqbal remains almost exclusively a defendant’s tool, some courts have applied the heightened pleading standard to affirmative defenses.  See generally Joseph A. Seiner, Plausibility Beyond the Complaint, 53 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. (forthcoming 2012) (collecting cases and arguing in favor of applying the plausibility standard to affirmative defenses).

[202]. 5A Wright & Miller, supra note 17, § 1332, at 489.

[203]. See, for example, the 1988 study conducted by the Federal Judicial Center, Willging, supra note 83, at 174–75.

[204]. Vairo, supra note 14, at 42–43.

[205]. Willging, supra note 83, at 167.

[206]. See, e.g., Carol L. Zeiner, When Kelo Met TwomblyIqbal: Implications for Pretext Challenges to Eminent Domain, 46 Willamette L. Rev. 201, 254 (2009) (“The ‘reinterpretation’ of Conley by the arrival of TwomblyIqbal, and the duo’s new test under [Rule] 12(b)(6), is likely to have a chilling effect on pretext challenges to eminent domain under the federal Constitution.”).  But see Spencer, Pleading Doctrine, supra note 7, at 26 (“Incoherence from the courts has the potential to create an unpredictability that will underdeter frivolous claims . . . .”).

[207]. See, e.g., Golden v. Nadler Pritikin & Mirabelli, No. 05 C 0283, 2010 WL 5373876, at *2 n.3 (N.D. Ill. Dec. 21, 2010) (denying motion to dismiss under Iqbal but warning plaintiff that “[b]efore proceeding, [plaintiff] should strongly consider whether he can do so while upholding his Rule 11 obligations”); Wade v. Fresno Police Dep’t., No. 1:09-CV-0599 AWI DLB, 2010 WL 2353525, at *8 (E.D. Cal. June 9, 2010) (“The court does remind Plaintiff and all parties that under Rule 11 . . . an award of sanctions is appropriate if a parties’ claims, defenses, and/or other legal contentions are frivolous, the factual contentions have no evidentiary support, and the factual denials are not warranted by the evidence, reasonable belief, or lack of information.”); Safeco Ins. Co. of Am. v. O’Hara Corp., No. 08-CV-10545, 2008 WL 2558015, at *1 (E.D. Mich. June 25, 2008) (admonishing counsel to “[p]repare to withdraw without prejudice claims and defenses that are not presently sustainable under Rule 11 in view of evidence in hand”); Knudson v. Wachovia Bank, 513 F. Supp. 2d 1255, 1258 n.1 (M.D. Ala. 2007) (“Should he choose to file an Amended Complaint, [the plaintiff] should keep in mind both that he must make his allegations within the strictures of Rule 11 . . . and that under Bell Atlantic Corp. v. Twombly, a ‘plaintiff’s obligation to provide the ‘grounds’ of his ‘entitle[ment] to relief’ requires more than labels and conclusions, and a formulaic recitation of the elements of a cause of action will not do.’” (alteration in original) (citation omitted) (quoting Twombly, 550 U.S. 444, 555 (2007))).

[208]. See Appendix, infra, for cases in which this has occurred.

[209]. Moreover, in at least a few post-Iqbal cases, courts have sanctioned plaintiffs’ lawyers for filing complaints with facts insufficient to meet the Iqbal standard.  See, e.g., Bloomfield Condo. Assocs. v. Drasco, No. 08-6159, 2010 WL 2652465, at *4–5 (D.N.J. June 25, 2010); Catcove Corp. v. Heaney, 685 F. Supp. 2d 328, 337–38 (E.D.N.Y. 2010).

[210]. Nelken, supra note 65, at 1329; see also Vairo, supra note 14, at 42–43 (noting that judges under the 1983 rule frequently reminded litigants of their Rule 11 obligations and that monetary consequences might follow violations of the rule).

[211]. See, e.g., Caroline Mitchell & David Wallach, Ashcroft v. Iqbal: Taking Twombly a Step Further, Antitrust Chron., Summer 2009, vol. 7, release 2, at 7–8, available at http://www.jonesday.com/files/Publication/6858c3ef-d7e4-4c90
‑ad95‑966de4581eb0/Presentation/PublicationAttachment/c4560553‑6cf8‑4dbf‑a304-a2776e5b7adf/Mitchell-JULY-09_2_.pdf (“In some instances, where allegations in the complaint are obviously wrong or ‘information and belief’ pleadings seem suspiciously thin, defendants may want to challenge the basis for the allegations by serving a Rule 11 motion under the safe harbor provision, to determine how willing plaintiffs are to stand by them.”).

[212]. Kregler v. City of New York, 608 F. Supp. 2d 465, 475–77 (S.D.N.Y. 2009).

[213]. Id. at 475.

[214]. Id.  After the hearing, the district court dismissed the complaint and denied plaintiff leave to amend, though it did not consider sanctioning the plaintiff.  Kregler v. City of New York, 646 F. Supp. 2d 570, 571 (S.D.N.Y. 2009).  On appeal, the Second Circuit, in a summary, unpublished opinion, reversed and held that the plaintiff’s motion for leave to amend should have been granted.  Kregler v. City of New York, 375 F. App’x. 143, 144 (2d Cir. 2010).  In that opinion, the court noted that it “express[ed] no opinion . . . as to the use of [the Rule 12(i)] procedure or the impact of the facts adduced therein.”  Id. at 144 n.1.

[215]. Schneider, supra note 7, at 519 (“[T]he greatest impact of this change in the landscape of federal pretrial practice is the dismissal of civil rights and employment discrimination cases from federal courts in disproportionate numbers.”).

[216]. 5A Wright & Miller, supra note 17, § 1332, at 489; see Miller, supra note 65, at 1007–08 (“[T]he 1983 Rule was criticized for having a disproportionate impact, particularly in areas of the law considered ‘disfavored’ by some, such as civil rights cases, which arguably was tantamount to the feared chilling effect.” (footnote omitted)); supra notes 79–87 and accompanying text.

[217]. Vairo, Critical Analysis, supra note 79, at 200; see also Vairo, supra note 14, at 14–15 (discussing concerns about chilling effects of 1983 amendments); Stempel, supra note 194, at 268 (“There also remains the disturbing although incomplete statistical picture that suggests that civil rights and discrimination claims are more frequently subjected to Rule 11 sanctions.”); Note, supra note 16, at 631 (“Although almost every major lawsuit now includes at least the threat of a rule 11 motion, sanctions are more likely to be imposed in public interest litigation, such as civil rights and employment discrimination cases, than in other types of federal litigation.” (footnote omitted)).

[218]. See, e.g., Schneider, supra note 7, at 520 (“Empirical studies of the effect of Twombly and Iqbal suggest that these decisions have resulted in the disproportionate dismissal of civil rights cases.”); see also Spencer, Pleading Doctrine, supra note 7, at 33–34 (“What characteristics distinguish those claims requiring the pleading of few facts from those requiring additional factual detail?  The key dividing line seems to be between claims that require suppositions to connote wrongdoing and those based on facts that indicate impropriety on their own.  For example, contract claims appear to be the kind of claim for which suppositions are not necessary to state a valid claim. . . . Conversely, products liability, civil conspiracy, antitrust, and civil rights claims . . . are more challenging to allege because each claim requires the proffering of a supposition of some sort to turn what happened into an actionable event.”).

[219]. Wasserman, supra note 7, at 160; see also A. Benjamin Spencer, Pleading Civil Rights Claims in the Post-Conley Era, 52 How. L.J. 99, 103 (2008) (“Twombly will serve as yet another procedural reform that will stymie civil rights claims and other seemingly disfavored actions.”).

[220]. Miller Testimony, supra note 3, at 17–18.

[221]. Seiner, supra note 7, at 1037–38.

[222]. Joseph A. Seiner, Pleading Disability, 51 B.C. L. Rev. 95, 121 (2010).

[223]. E.g., Patricia W. Hatamyar, The Tao of Pleading: Do Twombly and Iqbal Matter Empirically?, 59 Am. U. L. Rev. 553, 556 (2010) (concluding that motions to dismiss were granted in constitutional civil rights cases at a higher rate (53%) than in cases overall (49%)); see also Kendall W. Hannon, Note, Much Ado About Twombly?  A Study on the Impact of Bell Atlantic Corp. v. Twombly on 12(b)(6) Motions, 83 Notre Dame L. Rev. 1811, 1838 (2008) (concluding that post-Twombly, a civil rights action was 39.6% more likely to be dismissed than the average case).  Additionally, in a recent empirical study, Professor Alexander Reinert sought to determine the impact of Iqbal by looking at a dataset of cases from 1990 to 1999 with “thin” pleadings—presumably those that would be most affected by Iqbal—and comparing their “rate of success to the entire set of litigated cases over the same time period.”  Alexander A. Reinert, The Costs of Heightened Pleading, 86 Ind. L.J. 119, 126  (2011).  Professor Reinert concluded that “thinly pleaded cases are at least as successful as the generality of cases.  Furthermore, for some types of cases, most surprisingly civil rights cases, thinly pleaded cases may achieve an even higher level of success than similar actions supported by more detailed or convincing pleadings.”  Id.

[224]. See generally Joe S. Cecil et al., Fed. Judicial Ctr., Motion to Dismiss for Failure to State a Claim After Iqbal (2011), available at http://www.fjc.gov/public/pdf.nsf/lookup/motioniqbal.pdf/$file/motioniqbal.pdf.

[225]. Id. at 5.

[226]. Id. at 7, 8 tbl.1.

[227]. Id. at 21.

[228]. See, e.g., Howard Wasserman, Reports of Pleading’s Demise May Have Been Exaggerated, PrawfsBlawg (Mar. 29, 2011, 8:46 AM), http://prawfsblawg.blogs.com/prawfsblawg/2011/03/reports-of-pleadings-demise-may-have-been-exaggerated.html.

[229]. See, e.g., Mark R. Kravitz, Advisory Comm. on Fed. Rules of Civil Procedure, Report of the Civil Rules Advisory Committee 53 (2011) (“The FJC study—and the promise of its next study—combines with the review of judicial decisions to suggest there is no urgent need for immediate action on pleading standards.”), available at http://www.uscourts.gov/uscourts
/RulesAndPolicies/rules/Reports/CV05-2011.pdf.

[230]. Lonny Hoffman, Twombly and Iqbal’s Measure: An Assessment of the Federal Judicial Center’s Study of Motions to Dismiss 5–6 (Oct. 27, 2011) (unpublished manuscript), available at http://ssrn.com/abstract=1904134.

[231]. Id. at 16 (citing Cecil et al., supra note 224, at 10 & tbl. 2).

[232]. Id.

[233]. Id.

[234]. Id.

[235]. Id. at 13.

[236]. Id. (citing Cecil et al., supra note 224, at 14 tbl.4).

[237]. Id.

[238]. Cecil et al., supra note 224, at 14 & tbl.4.  Professor Hoffman goes on to offer a variety of criticisms of the FJC’s empirical analysis and concludes that “by emphasizing only whether the effects they observed were statistically significant, but not explaining what that technical terminology means, the study unintentionally confuses readers into thinking that the study proved Twombly and Iqbal were not responsible for the substantively significant changes in dismissal practices and outcomes that were found.”  Hoffman, supra note 234, at 39.  Based on the variety of issues he found with the FJC’s analysis, Professor Hoffman ultimately concludes that “perhaps . . . empirical study cannot resolve all of the policy questions that Twombly and Iqbal raise.”  Id. at 40.

[239]. See, e.g., Miller Testimony, supra note 3, at 18 (“Already, recent decisions suggest that complex cases, such as those involving claims of discrimination, conspiracy, and antitrust violations, have been treated as if they were disfavored actions.”); Schneider, supra note 7, at 533–36 (discussing a number of lower court decisions in which district courts have dismissed civil rights and employment cases).

[240]. See, e.g., Dodson, Comparative Convergences, supra note 7, at 463–71 (arguing that the Iqbal standard makes U.S. pleading practice more similar to that of other countries, and that this presents an opportunity for “valuable comparative study and analysis”).

[241]. See, e.g., Steinman, supra note 11.

[242]. See, e.g., Herrmann et al., supra note 7.

Article in PDF Form

By: Rachael A. Doyle*

Introduction

Congress enacted the Comprehensive Environmental Response, Compensation, and Liability Act (“CERCLA”)[1] to address and remedy the improper disposal of toxic and hazardous wastes.[2]  Since its enactment, CERCLA has been highly criticized for its ostensibly high transaction costs, its strict liability scheme, and the expensive cleanup costs associated with the program.[3]  Yet CERCLA purports to encourage private parties who had no part in improper disposal to clean up hazardous waste in a cost-effective manner and to then seek reimbursement of these response costs from the responsible party.[4]  By bifurcating the issues of liability and damages in a recovery response action, CERCLA seeks to prevent relitigation of issues by allowing for a declaration of liability, relegating the complicated issue of damages to a later stage in the litigation.[5]

Section 113(g)(2)[6] provides for mandatory declaratory relief in a CERCLA action.[7]  Circuits are split on whether a private party plaintiff can seek a declaratory judgment for future liability without successfully proving costs incurred under section 107(a).[8]  This Comment considers the far-reaching consequences of such a prerequisite to declaratory relief.  In order to consider whether a plaintiff can seek declaratory relief based solely on future liability, Part I explores whether such claims are truly ripe, whether the federal courts have subject matter jurisdiction over these claims, and finally, whether a declaratory judgment should be awarded under CERCLA’s declaratory relief provision or under the Declaratory Judgment Act.[9]  Part II presents the United States Courts of Appeals’ divergent approaches to the question of declaratory relief for future liability.  Finally, Part III argues that the statutory language and remedial purposes of CERCLA justify allowing declaratory relief based only on future liability.

I.  CERCLA Procedure: Ripeness, Subject Matter Jurisdiction, and the Declaratory Judgment Act

In CERCLA actions, federal courts have inconsistently applied either the Declaratory Judgment Act or section 113(g)(2), CERCLA’s more specific provision for declaratory relief.  Whether one statute or the other controls is especially important for a plaintiff seeking a declaratory judgment based solely on future liability.  If the Declaratory Judgment Act applies, a plaintiff is unable to obtain declaratory relief because the Declaratory Judgment Act cannot alone confer subject matter jurisdiction on a federal court, and the court must dismiss the claim.[10]  Thus, the plaintiff’s declaratory relief claim must be predicated on CERCLA.  For a federal court to even consider a plaintiff’s request for a declaratory judgment, the court must not only have subject matter jurisdiction; the claim must also be ripe.  As discussed below, federal courts have confused the analysis of ripeness with the discussion of awarding declaratory relief.[11]  First, this Part gives an overview of recovering past response costs under section 107(a) for private plaintiffs, as well as obtaining declaratory relief under section 113(g)(2).  Next, this Part illustrates why plaintiffs continue to argue for declaratory relief pursuant to the Declaratory Judgment Act, and why federal courts continue to muddle their analyses of declaratory relief.

A.            Obtaining Declaratory Relief in a CERCLA Action

CERCLA’s “extensive and far-reaching liability scheme” allows the federal and state governments, private parties, and Indian tribes to “incur[] response costs in dealing with a release or threatened release of hazardous substances.”[12]  When a release does occur, section 107(a)(4)(A)–(D)[13] authorizes recovery of response costs from potentially responsible parties (“PRPs”).[14]  In order to claim cost recovery under section 107(a), a private party plaintiff must establish the following four elements:

(1) the site on which the hazardous substances are contained is a “facility” under CERCLA’s definition of that term, (2) a “release” or “threatened release” of any “hazardous substance” from the facility has occurred, (3) such “release” or “threatened release” has caused the plaintiff to incur response costs that were “necessary” and “consistent with the national contingency plan,” and (4) the defendant is within one of four classes of persons subject to the liability provisions of Section 107(a).[15]

Satisfying these four elements is essential for recovering response costs, and the stakes are high since “CERCLA imposes strict liability for the costs of cleanup.”[16]

CERCLA permits a plaintiff to seek a declaratory judgment for future liability “in any initial cost-recovery action under section 107.”[17]  According to section 113(g)(2), “the court shall enter a declaratory judgment on liability for response costs or damages that will be binding on any subsequent action or actions to recover further response costs or damages.”[18]  Allowing declaratory relief “economizes on judicial time”[19] and encourages prompt remedial action, placing “the costs on those responsible.”[20]  While courts do note that there “is an issue of prematurity” when it comes to the “allocation of the clean-up costs that [a plaintiff] has not yet incurred,” this prematurity does not foreclose consideration of declaratory relief.[21]  However, declaratory relief is not unrestricted; judgments have been limited to the “issue of liability for future response costs” and do not include recoverability of those costs.[22]  Moreover, “a defendant who is declared liable for future response costs may still challenge those costs as unrecoverable.”[23]

After the Superfund Amendments and Reauthorization Act of 1986 (“SARA”),[24] PRPs can seek contribution under section 113(f) “from other parties that have helped create a hazardous waste problem” at the contaminated site.[25]  Section 113(f) allows a PRP to seek contribution from other “PRPs with common liability stemming from an action instituted under § 106 or § 107(a).”[26]  While the standard for seeking contribution is identical to the standard for proving response costs under section 107(a),[27] the statutory language of section 113(f) is “silent on whether declaratory judgments are authorized in contribution actions.”[28]  Circuit courts have typically recognized that declaratory relief is permissible in contribution actions because it “is consistent with the broader purposes of CERCLA.”[29]  These broader purposes include managing the “massive and wasteful” litigation that often results in the environmental context.[30]

Importantly, courts typically refuse to find that future costs are too speculative to support a declaratory judgment.[31]  What is less clear is whether a plaintiff can seek a declaratory judgment for future liability without establishing a prima facie case under section 107(a).  This question first requires consideration of whether the Declaratory Judgment Act controls CERCLA actions.  If only the Declaratory Judgment Act applies—rather than CERCLA’s specific declaratory relief provision—a federal court will not have subject matter jurisdiction to consider the question of future liability unless a plaintiff can prove he is entitled to cost recovery under section 107(a).[32]  Second, this question requires a look at how courts have interpreted the language of section 113(g)(2), which specifically provides for declaratory relief in a section 107(a) cost-recovery action[33] and—by implication of the courts—in section 113(f) contribution actions.[34]  Courts’ divergent interpretations illustrate that the language of section 113(g)(2) is not entirely unambiguous.  As a result, some circuits require a finding of section 107(a) liability as a prerequisite for a declaratory judgment,[35] while others conclude that a declaration of future liability requires no proof of costs already incurred.[36]

B.            The Declaratory Judgment Act’s Relationship to CERCLA Recoverability

While federal courts typically issue declaratory judgments under section 113(g)(2) of CERCLA, plaintiffs consistently argue for a declaratory judgment under the Declaratory Judgment Act.[37]  The Declaratory Judgment Act provides that “[i]n a case of actual controversy within its jurisdiction . . . any court of the United States, upon the filing of an appropriate pleading, may declare the rights and other legal relations of any interested party seeking such declaration, whether or not further relief is or could be sought.”[38]  In contrast to section 113(g)(2), in which there is no language discussing the necessity of a case or controversy, the Declaratory Judgment Act predicates relief on the existence of “a substantial controversy, between parties having adverse legal interests.”[39]

In the context of contribution, the First, Ninth, and Tenth Circuits, “have taken the position . . . that § 9613(g)(2), the declaratory judgment provision of CERCLA, applies to § 9613(f) contribution actions for both past and future response costs.”[40]  The First Circuit, in United States v. Davis, considered the applicability of the Declaratory Judgment Act “only because [it applies], at least by implication, to the availability of declaratory relief under § 9613(g)(2).”[41]  In section 107(a) actions, most courts rely solely on the language of section 113(g)(2) to grant declaratory relief.[42]  Since section 113(g)(2) compels the court to issue a declaratory judgment for future liability,[43] courts usually issue declaratory relief pursuant to this “mandatory” language.[44]  In contribution actions, it is not specifically stated in either section 113(g)(2) or section 113(f) whether declaratory relief is even allowed.[45]  While some courts apply the language of section 113(g)(2) to contribution actions, other courts find that the Declaratory Judgment Act controls for contribution actions because no specific relief is pronounced in the statute.[46]

Why do plaintiffs continue to argue for relief pursuant to the Declaratory Judgment Act when CERCLA specifically provides for declaratory relief in section 113(g)(2)?  For one thing, not all courts have limited the analysis of declaratory relief to the language of section 113(g)(2).  To illustrate this inconsistency, the Ninth Circuit has referenced the Declaratory Judgment Act in their analysis of CERCLA claims, stating that “[j]urisdiction to award declaratory relief exists only in ‘a case of actual controversy.’”[47]  Even in United States v. Davis, the First Circuit considered appellants’ arguments that “there is no case or controversy between the parties.”[48]  Since this “case or controversy” language is prevalent in plaintiff’s requests for declaratory relief in most other contexts, courts tend to consider arguments invoking the Declaratory Judgment Act in addition to those based upon section 113(g)(2).

1. Ripeness

In order for a court to even consider a plaintiff’s claim for declaratory relief, the claim must be ripe—a requirement that may trigger an analysis of the Declaratory Judgment Act’s “case or controversy” language.  This “case or controversy” language is closely linked with an action’s ripeness, and ripeness is particularly relevant when seeking declaratory relief because a court may be reluctant to exercise one of its traditionally discretionary powers without an actual controversy before the court.[49]  The Declaratory Judgment Act requires a “case or controversy” because courts want to resolve actual controversies between parties having adverse legal interests as opposed to issuing advisory opinions.[50]  According to the Supreme Court, the Declaratory Judgment Act is derived from the “case or controversy” requirement of Article III of the Constitution.[51]  Ripeness, a related doctrine, “is about more than just the immediacy of the controversy, but about whether the controversy can be settled now.”[52]  Therefore, courts may also borrow language from the Declaratory Judgment Act when awarding declaratory relief because it helps the courts consider declaratory relief from the perspective of ripeness.

For example, in City of Colton v. American Promotional Events, Inc., the City of Colton appealed a finding by the district court that prohibited awarding a declaratory judgment for future liability without the city showing that “it was entitled to recover any of its past costs.”[53]  The court considered the ripeness question in the CERCLA context.  Relying on precedent, the court found a CERCLA case ripe “when the ‘essential fact establishing [the plaintiff’s] right to declaratory relief—the alleged disposal of hazardous substances . . . has already occurred.’”[54]  The court went on to conclude:

None of these cases imposed any requirement that a party incur recoverablei.e., necessary and [national contingency plan]-compliant—response costs before its claim for declaratory relief is ripe.  Indeed, our cases make clear that so long as there has been a release of hazardous substances, and the plaintiff spends some money responding to it, a claim for declaratory relief is ripe for review.[55]

Another Ninth Circuit case explained that “[a]s soon as [the plaintiff] expended its first dollar, it could have sued . . . and sought a declaratory judgment.”[56]  Thus, once this essential step occurs—an expenditure of any amount, including nominal costs—the case is ripe, and an actual controversy concerning adverse legal interests is established, allowing judicial review.

By considering whether a “case or controversy” is before the court, federal courts are confusing the separate notions of ripeness and declaratory relief.  Ripeness is not based in the Declaratory Judgment Act—it is founded in Article III.[57]  Since section 113(g)(2) makes no mention of a “case or controversy” requirement, the use of such language should be limited to the analysis of ripeness.  As will be discussed below, the Declaratory Judgment Act has no place in CERCLA, except arguably in the context of contribution, and as a result, a “case or controversy” is only required as far as is needed to satisfy the justiciability doctrine of ripeness.

2. Subject Matter Jurisdiction

Not only must a plaintiff establish ripeness, the federal court must also have subject matter jurisdiction over the case.  This is extremely important for a plaintiff who seeks only declaratory relief as to future liability.  The Ninth Circuit’s opinion in American Promotional Events sheds light on the inter-related questions of whether a court has subject matter jurisdiction and whether declaratory relief is awarded based on the Declaratory Judgment Act or on section 113(g)(2).  In American Promotional Events, the court considered whether “the district court’s disposal of [plaintiff’s] CERCLA past response cost-recovery claims deprived the court of subject matter jurisdiction.”[58]  The court pointed out that “the Declaratory Judgment Act does not itself confer federal subject matter jurisdiction,” and that it is considered “an additional remedy in cases in which jurisdiction is otherwise established.”[59]  If a plaintiff cannot prove past recovery costs, but still seeks a declaratory judgment, the plaintiff cannot rely on the Declaratory Judgment Act to confer jurisdiction.

A plaintiff’s declaratory relief claim must be “predicated on CERCLA.”[60]  So long as the plaintiff’s claim is “non-frivolous,” it “suffices to establish federal question jurisdiction, even if that claim is later dismissed on the merits.”[61]  Thus, even though a plaintiff cannot establish section 107(a) cost recovery, the plaintiff should claim declaratory relief pursuant to the federal statute rather than the Declaratory Judgment Act.  Should the court dismiss the plaintiff’s section 107(a) claim, the court can then consider the declaratory judgment claim under the federal statute, even if the section 107(a) claim is dismissed on the merits.  Otherwise, the court is required to dismiss the remaining claim since the Declaratory Judgment Act itself cannot confer subject matter jurisdiction on the court.  This implies that subject matter jurisdiction is not an insurmountable barrier for a plaintiff arguing for declaratory relief, even when that plaintiff fails to prove costs incurred under section 107(a).

3. The Irrelevant Declaratory Judgment Act

When a plaintiff seeks only declaratory relief based on future liability, the plaintiff’s claim must be based on CERCLA itself; otherwise, the court will have to dismiss the claim if it is based on the Declaratory Judgment Act.[62]  As discussed above, courts have inconsistently applied the Declaratory Judgment Act in CERCLA actions.  The American Promotional Events opinion offers the most insight into this problem, considering specifically whether the Declaratory Judgment Act governs CERCLA actions or whether section 113(g)(2) controls.  Even though “Colton’s complaint referred to the Declaratory Judgment Act rather than CERCLA section 113(g)(2),” the Ninth Circuit found that “the latter provision clearly governs this initial cost-recovery action.”[63]  Concluding that section 113(g)(2) qualifies as a “more detailed declaratory relief provision,” the court went on to analyze the plaintiff’s claim for declaratory relief under section 113(g)(2).[64]  This rule was formulated in Hinck v. United States, in which the Supreme Court held that “in most contexts, ‘a precisely drawn, detailed statute pre-empts more general remedies’”—a holding “guided by [the Court’s] past recognition that when Congress enacts a specific remedy when no remedy was previously recognized . . . the remedy provided is generally regarded as exclusive.”[65]  This finding does appear to support the Ninth Circuit’s decision in American Promotional Events that declaratory relief pursuant to section 113(g)(2) should be the “exclusive” remedy, considering that such a remedy did not exist until Congress passed CERCLA.[66]

Despite a plaintiff’s best attempt to use the Declaratory Judgment Act, it is actually in his best interest to argue for declaratory relief pursuant to section 113(g)(2) of CERCLA, especially when the plaintiff is only arguing for a declaratory judgment regarding future liability.  While the court’s willingness to hear claims based on the Declaratory Judgment Act depends upon the jurisdiction, it seems that in most contexts, section 113(g)(2) is the safest way to establish that the federal court has subject matter jurisdiction over the claim.  It appears the Declaratory Judgment Act is most relevant in contribution actions in which the court may not allow declaratory relief to rest upon section 113(g)(2), and therefore, in this context, a plaintiff may want to argue for a declaratory judgment based on both section 113(g)(2) and the Declaratory Judgment Act.  But for private party plaintiffs seeking declaratory relief based only on future liability, the plaintiff should predicate the claim on section 113(g)(2) in order to establish that the federal court has subject matter jurisdiction over the case.

II.  The Dividing Line: Courts’ Conflicting Interpretations of Section 113(g)(2)

In order to establish a prima facie case of cost recovery under section 107(a), a plaintiff must satisfy four elements.  If one of the four elements is not satisfied, a plaintiff recovers nothing.[67]  This Part explores whether a plaintiff also must satisfy these four elements in order to obtain a declaratory judgment for future liability.  Circuit courts are divided on whether proof of past recovery is a sine qua non for obtaining declaratory relief regarding future costs.[68]  The language of section 113(g)(2) does not explicitly require proof of past recovery costs; however, courts have different justifications for this silence, if any justification at all.  With limited statutory guidance, the federal courts are divided on whether allowing a declaratory judgment without proof of past recovery costs is consistent with CERCLA’s overall purpose to prevent relitigation of the same issues.[69]

A.            Requiring Proof of Incurred Costs Under Section 107(a): The American Promotional Events Holding

The most recent and perhaps clearest iteration on this question is found in the Ninth Circuit’s opinion in City of Colton v. American Promotional Events.  In American Promotional Events, the district court held that the city had failed to establish a prima facie case under section 107(a) because it could not show that the response costs were “necessary and consistent with the [national contingency plan].”[70]  The district court ruled that this precluded consideration of declaratory relief for future costs.[71]  While the Ninth Circuit noted that other federal courts of appeals have taken different approaches to this question, it ultimately affirmed, analyzing the question under section 113(g)(2).[72]

The Ninth Circuit first focused on the language of section 113(g)(2).  It postulated that “‘liability for response costs’ must refer to the response costs sought in the initial cost recovery action, given that the sentence later refers to ‘any subsequent action or actions to recover further response costs.’”[73]  According to the court, such a reading permits a declaratory judgment for future cost-recovery actions only when a plaintiff has established cost recovery on “present liability” under section 107(a).[74]  By satisfying the elements of section 107(a), a plaintiff proves to the court that the defendant is presently liable, and therefore, must be declared liable for future response costs.  The court supported this finding by appealing to an “elemental canon of statutory construction,” which states, “where a statute expressly provides a particular remedy or remedies, a court must be chary of reading others into it.”[75]  This canon supports the court’s conclusion that Congress created a statute that expressly grants a remedy for a specific plaintiff—one who has satisfied the elements of section 107(a).  Otherwise, the court reasoned, Congress “could have provided that ‘the court shall enter a declaratory judgment on liability for further response costs.’”[76]  However, Congress did not, and the court found this reason enough to conclude that the language of section 113(g)(2) unambiguously requires a finding of section 107(a) cost recovery.[77]

The plaintiff convincingly argued that “CERCLA’s goal of encouraging private parties to clean up hazardous sites” supports granting declaratory relief solely based on future liability.[78]  Colton argued that precluding consideration of declaratory relief “would discourage private parties from taking future actions to clean up hazardous sites if they failed to comply with the [national contingency plan]” in their past actions.[79]  Yet the court was not persuaded by Colton’s argument because, the court reasoned, encouraging private response is not the exclusive goal of CERCLA.[80]  Rather, CERCLA’s goal is also to “make the party seeking response costs choose a cost-effective course of action” when considering how to clean up the waste.[81]  The court determined that “[p]roviding declaratory relief based on mere assurances of future compliance with the [national contingency plan] would create little incentive for parties to ensure that their initial cleanup efforts are on the right track.”[82]  The court refused to grant premature relief under CERCLA in order to prevent “perverse incentives.”[83]  According to the court, when a plaintiff has failed to show past response costs as consistent with the national contingency plan (“NCP”), granting a declaratory judgment for future liability would ultimately endorse action that is prohibited under section 107(a).[84]

The court also looked into the practicalities of granting declaratory relief in this limited situation.  The court found that it would have to make “complicated determinations” about the allocation of responsibility among the responsible parties, with no assurance that the plaintiff would ever establish that costs incurred were necessary and consistent with the NCP.[85]  Therefore, the court found that “CERCLA’s purposes would be better served” if the plaintiff came “to court only after demonstrating its commitment to comply with the NCP and undertake a CERCLA-quality cleanup.”[86]  Even in the court’s holding, it is difficult to ignore the court’s reprimand of the city for its failure to comply with the NCP and expectation of a declaratory judgment from the court in return.

In order to show why a plaintiff may fail to establish past cost recovery under section 107(a) and still seek a declaratory judgment as to future liability, some elaboration of the facts of American Promotional Events is required.  The City of Colton began examining its municipal supply wells for perchlorate contamination.[87]  These wells drew water from the Rialto-Colton groundwater basin.  The city found “concentrations ranging from about 4 to 10 micrograms per liter.”[88]  The California Department of Health Services (“CDHS”) had an “advisory action level” for perchlorate of four micrograms per liter.[89]  Because the action level was merely advisory, and not enforceable, the CDHS stated that the affected wells could still supply water in their current state.[90]  Colton decided otherwise, and treated the impacted wells for perchlorate contamination.[91]  Four million dollars later, Colton brought suit against industries located along the basin for reimbursement of treatment costs.[92]  The district court concluded that such costs were not necessary “because there was no immediate threat to the public health or environment” based on the unenforceable advisory action level.[93]  Four million dollars, of course, is small change compared to the fifty-five to seventy-five million dollars the basin-wide cleanup was estimated to eventually cost.[94]  Therefore, a declaration of future liability was incredibly important to Colton.

The American Promotional Events opinion offers full insight into a court’s justification for precluding declaratory relief for this particular type of plaintiff.  It displays a complete picture of what is required for a declaratory judgment under CERCLA: ripeness, subject matter jurisdiction, and the prerequisite of satisfying the requirements of section 107(a) to even obtain a section 113(g)(2) declaratory judgment, thereby illustrating the interconnectedness of all three requirements.  It also settles the Declaratory Judgment Act confusion by determining that only section 113(g)(2) applies in a cost-recovery action.  Colton failed to establish section 107(a) liability because its response costs were deemed not necessary and consistent with the NCP; it is important to remember, however, that this is only one of the requirements of section 107(a).[95]  A plaintiff may fail to establish liability if he cannot prove the remaining requirements.  It appears that the Ninth Circuit would still refuse to grant a declaratory judgment for a plaintiff failing to show that, for example, the defendant is within one of the four classes of persons subject to liability.[96]  The opinion does not appear to hinge upon Colton’s failure to comply with the NCP, but rather upon Colton’s failure to prove one of the essential elements under section 107(a).  Yet, one of the most fiercely litigated elements of cost recovery under section 107(a) is the requirement that response costs are necessary and consistent with the NCP, which explains the element’s frequent reoccurrence in the case law.[97]

B.            Other Courts’ Interpretations of Section 113(g)(2)

The Ninth Circuit is not the only court to consider the question of how a CERCLA plaintiff can receive declaratory relief for future liability.  As the Ninth Circuit points out, the Second, Third, and Eighth Circuits have all concluded that section 113(g)(2) applies only after a plaintiff has incurred response costs and comes to court prepared to establish a prima facie case of cost recovery under section 107(a).[98]  While these opinions support the American Promotional Events holding, they offer little insight into why section 113(g)(2) unambiguously applies only when costs have already been incurred under section 107(a).  These opinions are more significant for their holdings rather than for their analyses, as they devote limited attention to policy considerations raised by the private party plaintiffs.

In Trimble v. Asarco, Inc., a putative class brought suit against Asarco—a lead smelter and refinery—for emitting lead and other particulates into the air.[99]  Asarco maintained that these particulates were not adverse to the public’s health.[100]  The district court ruled that it lacked subject matter jurisdiction over the claim because the plaintiffs failed to show that they had incurred response costs necessary and consistent with the NCP since the plaintiffs did not expend any of their own money to investigate the effects of Asarco’s emissions.[101]  The Eighth Circuit reinforced the generally accepted notion that a plaintiff does not have to actually pay for a cost in order to incur it.[102]  An incurred cost “may be based on an existing legal obligation.”[103]  The court found, however, that “the mere possibility, even the certainty, that an obligation to pay will arise in the future does not establish that a cost has been incurred, but rather establishes that a cost may be incurred or will be incurred.”[104]  The court refused to allow a plaintiff to obtain declaratory relief for future liability without having already incurred response costs under section 107(a).[105]

Much like the City of Colton, the Trimble plaintiffs made a policy argument that refusing declaratory relief would ultimately injure the plaintiffs, who would have to spend money or incur debt in order to begin the cleanup process or investigate the waste.[106]  The plaintiffs argued that such a finding would “deny those with the least financial resources access to CERCLA’s benefits.”[107]  But the Eighth Circuit responded that while it “recognize[d] a potential for inequality within the CERCLA private cost-recovery scheme,” it refused to allow this inequality to overcome the court’s interpretation of the statutory language.[108]

In Gussack Realty Co. v. Xerox Corp., the Second Circuit reversed a jury award of $1,083,585 to the plaintiff for future response costs, finding that the award of “a present lump-sum payment of anticipated expenses” was not the “proper remedy.”[109]  The court ruled that only a declaratory judgment is appropriate.[110]  The court then refused to award a declaratory judgment because “[p]laintiffs ha[d] not incurred any compensable expenses under CERCLA.”[111]  Without any more explanation, the court ruled as a matter of law that declaratory relief was unavailable.[112]  The Third Circuit, in United States v. Occidental Chemical Corp., provided even less reasoning for its conclusion that declaratory relief is prohibited when a plaintiff does not satisfy section 107(a).[113]  The lower court had dismissed plaintiff’s claim under section 107(a), and as a result, had also dismissed plaintiff’s claim for declaratory judgment under section 113(g)(2)—the declaratory judgment provision of CERCLA.[114]  The Third Circuit reversed the dismissal of the plaintiff’s section 107(a) claim, noting that “it is understandable that the District Court, having erroneously concluded that Occidental had no liability for EPA’s outstanding past costs . . . dismissed the § 122(g)(2) claim for a declaratory judgment as to future costs.”[115]

These three cases demonstrate that before American Promotional Events there was little discussion and justification for federal court determinations that declaratory relief pursuant to section 113(g)(2) require a showing of costs incurred under section 107(a).  The other side of the conversation has been just as limited.  In each of these cases, plaintiffs have argued against such a finding by looking to the broader purposes of CERCLA, especially encouraging private cleanup by the responsible party.  For some courts, this argument has been persuasive.

C.            Courts Allowing for a Declaration of Future Liability

Both the First and Tenth Circuits have held that private party plaintiffs can obtain a declaratory judgment even when these plaintiffs fail to establish a prima facie case in a past cost-recovery action.[116]  In the First Circuit, the court formulated this rule in the context of contribution.[117]  Since establishing a cost-recovery action for contribution under section 113(f) is identical to establishing cost recovery under section 107(a), obtaining declaratory relief in both contexts will be treated interchangeably.[118]

In County Line Investment Co. v. Tinney, the Tenth Circuit determined that a plaintiff must prove that response costs are consistent with the NCP as an element of a section 107(a) claim.[119]  The court recognized two exceptions to this rule: (1) when “the factual record does not permit a determination of consistency with the NCP at the time the motion for summary judgment is filed”; and (2) when the plaintiff seeks only a declaration as to future liability for “future costs incurred consistent with the NCP.”[120]  Without further elaboration, the court cited two district court cases from New Jersey, discussed below.[121]  It appears that the Tenth Circuit found these exceptions rooted in the fact that the plaintiff can obtain a declaratory judgment as to liability, but in the future, the plaintiff will still have to prove that the future costs incurred were consistent with the NCP.  For a defendant who is declared liable for future costs, there is still an escape hatch—if the future costs are not NCP consistent, then the costs are unrecoverable.

The First Circuit addressed this issue in a contribution action in United States v. Davis.[122]  The court, having concluded that section 113(g)(2) applies in contribution actions, began its analysis by looking at the statute’s plain language.[123]  The court found that nothing in the language of section 113(g)(2) “precludes an interpretation that declaratory relief is available” for “future or past response costs.”[124]  Instead, the court determined that there is a “flexible time line” under section 113(f), in which a “defendant in a [section 107(a)] cost recovery action may initiate a contribution action before its own liability is established.”[125]  This same reasoning would apply to a defendant who has been found liable, and who seeks declaratory relief “before that liability has been fully discharged.”[126]  By comparing section 113(f) with section 113(g)(2), the court looked to the context of the statutory scheme and its purpose to conclude that the statute does not prohibit the award of declaratory relief for future liability only.

Perhaps one distinction can be drawn here—in contribution actions, liability has already been established.  A plaintiff has brought an action against the PRP, and has proven under section 107(a) that costs have been incurred.  As a result, this responsible party has brought a contribution action.  The First Circuit in Davis reasoned that this liable party could obtain declaratory relief for future costs incurred even when the party has not shown that it has incurred past response costs.[127]  The court went on to note that “allocation helps to alleviate the hardship that would be visited upon the [PRP] seeking contribution if that PRP was, in effect, required to finance the entire cleanup operation before getting a determination regarding the shares attributable to the other PRP’s.”[128]  If it is unfair for a liable party to incur all of the costs of the cleanup before obtaining declaratory relief, it appears that it is also unfair for an innocent private party to incur all of the cleanup costs before receiving a declaratory judgment.  Thus, this case indicates that when a liable party—and by logical extension, an innocent party—seeks a declaratory judgment for future liability, the party does not have to prove past response costs.

In two separate cases, the U.S. District Court for the District of New Jersey has also held that proving section 107(a) costs is not a prerequisite to obtaining declaratory relief as to future liability.[129]  In T & E Industries v. Safety Light Corp., the court determined it was precluded from “entering summary judgment as to specific amounts of the costs” incurred when the plaintiff had not proven that the costs were necessary and consistent with the NCP; however, it was not precluded from granting a declaratory judgment.[130]  The court disagreed with the defendant’s argument that such a declaratory judgment “is tantamount to writing a ‘blank check.’”[131]  The defendant was protected, according to the court, by the fact that the plaintiff would still have to prove that these future costs were NCP consistent, reiterating the Tenth Circuit’s justification for awarding declaratory relief.[132]

In Southland Corp. v. Ashland Oil, Inc., the district court again allowed declaratory relief, even when the liable plant had not yet started the cleanup process and was seeking contribution from another PRP.[133]  The court refused to find that the claim was premature.[134]  It supported this finding with the contention that declaratory relief is “consistent with CERCLA’s purpose of encouraging prompt remedial action.”[135]  While CERCLA’s overall purpose of encouraging quick and effective private party cleanup was not compelling enough for the Ninth Circuit, these circuit and district court opinions give some limited insight into why CERCLA’s purposes are better served by awarding declaratory relief for future liability only.

These cases demonstrate that while federal courts have recognized that there is reason to award declaratory relief without first satisfying all of the elements of section 107(a), they have offered very little elaboration on why it should be allowed and when it should be granted.  What is apparent from this case law is the important point that allowing declaratory relief under these circumstances is not without its limitations.  The plaintiff will still have to show that future costs incurred are necessary and consistent with the NCP, a limitation that is not illusory.  By focusing on the remedial purpose of the statute, and searching the plain language of section 113(g)(2) for any sign of the statute precluding the award of declaratory relief based solely on future liability, these federal courts refuse to find that section 113(g)(2) should foreclose the possibility of a declaration of liability.

III.  An Alternative to the American Promotional Events Holding: When Declaratory Relief Should Be Allowed

The potential repercussions of the American Promotional Events holding, the policies and purposes of CERCLA, and the fact that section 113(g)(2) never explicitly prohibits consideration of only future liability together suggest a tenable argument that declaratory relief is permissible for a plaintiff unable to prove section 107(a) costs.  This circuit split illustrates that the conversation has been limited regarding the issue of declaratory relief based only on future liability.  Until the Ninth Circuit devoted an entire opinion to the question, federal courts had given little attention to explaining their holdings.[136]  Plaintiffs seek declaratory relief for future liability for a variety of factual reasons, and placing an unnecessary burden on these plaintiffs, especially innocent parties, discourages private party cleanup and ultimately punishes the wrong party.  Based on both the plain language of section 113(g)(2) and the broader purposes of CERCLA, a plaintiff should be permitted to seek declaratory relief, even if that plaintiff has failed to satisfy the requirements of section 107(a).

A.            The Plain Language of Section 113(g)(2)

The plain language of section 113(g)(2) supports rather than hinders a plaintiff’s argument for a declaratory judgment.  While section 113(g)(2) does not specifically detail who can obtain declaratory relief, it also does not suggest that there is any prerequisite that must be satisfied before receiving a declaratory judgment.  As the First Circuit noted, the statute does not preclude consideration in the context of contribution nor does it preclude consideration of future response costs.[137]  The language simply applies to the issue of “liability for response costs or damages that will be binding on any subsequent action or actions to recover further response costs or damages.”[138]  This is an important limitation: declaratory relief is limited to the issue of liability.[139]  While the defendant is considered liable, this does not necessarily mean the defendant will have to pay.  The plaintiff will still have to prove, at a later time, that these future costs are necessary and consistent with the NCP.

Moreover, the Ninth Circuit’s reading of section 113(g)(2) is somewhat contrived.  By concluding that the declaratory judgment refers to the present action—that is, that the plaintiff must show that it has presently incurred response costs—the court ignores the second half of the clause.[140]  The declaratory judgment “on liability for response costs or damages” may not refer to costs already incurred, but simply to the fact that it “will be binding on any subsequent action or actions to recover further response costs or damages.”[141]  At the very least, this suggests that the language is not clear, and it certainly does not indicate that past costs are a requirement for a declaration of future liability.

The Ninth Circuit also fails to compare section 113(g)(2) with section 107(a) and its purposes.  By adhering to the “elemental canon of statutory construction” that courts should hesitate to read additional remedies into a statute, the court fails to consider the context of the overall statutory scheme.[142]  Just as the First Circuit compared section 113(g)(2) with section 113(f), ultimately concluding that section 113(g)(2) supports the allowance of a declaratory judgment for future liability,[143] section 107(a) should also be considered and compared with section 113(g)(2).[144]  Section 107(a) requires a showing of necessary and NCP-consistent response costs; this purpose is not contravened, however, by allowing a declaration as to future liability since the plaintiff will still have to show that these future costs were necessary and consistent with the NCP.  Thus, there is no reason to require a plaintiff “to come to court only after demonstrating its commitment to comply with the NCP and undertake a CERCLA-quality cleanup.”[145]  A plaintiff who obtains a declaratory judgment can then undertake the CERCLA cleanup, bolstered with some incentive to comply with the NCP, and ultimately still have the burden to show its cleanup was “CERCLA-quality.”[146]  Thus, the plain language of section 113(g)(2) does not preclude consideration of a declaration for future liability only.

B.            Serving the Goals of CERCLA

CERCLA’s broad remedial purposes are best served when the statute is liberally interpreted.[147]  In nearly all of these cost recovery actions the federal courts give a cursory overview of CERCLA’s purposes, ultimately concluding that some other interest overrides them.  But more consideration should be given to CERCLA’s goals.  First and foremost, “CERCLA was intended to encourage quick response and to place the costs on those responsible.”[148]  Declaratory relief supports this central tenet because “all [involved] parties . . . will know their share of costs before they are incurred.”[149]  Thus, when a plaintiff cannot show that past response costs are recoverable, allowing for a declaration of future liability puts the defendant on notice about the potential for future damages or costs.  In CERCLA actions in which plaintiffs struggle to locate PRPs—especially solvent PRPs—a declaratory judgment permits the defendant to plan ahead.[150]  As the Ninth Circuit noted, “The more liability can be limited and quantified, the more practical it is for a party to budget and borrow to finance it.”[151]  Ultimately, this places the costs on the responsible party and allows the PRP to plan accordingly.

Also, “[e]arly determination of a defendant’s liability for as yet unproven CERCLA-cognizable costs . . . can speed the settlement process and thus promote Congress’s goal of encouraging private parties to undertake and fund expedited CERCLA cleanups.”[152]  By refusing to grant a declaratory judgment for future liability, federal courts discourage private parties from further cleanup of these waste sites.  What incentive is there for a plaintiff to continue to clean up the contaminated site when the court has refused to determine future liability?  Congress also intended to prevent relitigation of these issues, and such a goal is distorted when a court requires the plaintiff to come to court again to establish the issue of liability.[153]

This distinction also creates an unfair dividing line between the plaintiff who has expended a nominal and recoverable amount, and the plaintiff who has not expended a recoverable amount or any amount yet.  Allowing a plaintiff to seek a declaratory judgment “[a]s soon as [the plaintiff] expended its first dollar,”[154] is really no different from allowing the same for a plaintiff who has not expended its first dollar (or at least its first NCP-consistent dollar).  Ultimately, the responsible party should be declared liable because that party released a hazardous substance, and allowing that party to evade liability based on the plaintiff’s failure to respond in accordance with the NCP undermines basic notions of fairness.[155]

When a plaintiff does incur future costs that are NCP consistent, and never obtained a declaratory judgment from the court in the earlier action, the plaintiff is forced to shoulder the burden of costs without any assurance that the PRP will be held liable.  Moreover, as the First Circuit articulated in United States v. Davis, distribution of liability helps to alleviate the burden on a plaintiff who would otherwise have to pay for the entire cleanup “before getting a determination regarding the shares attributable to the other PRPs.”[156]  As mentioned earlier, this justification applies more powerfully when an innocent plaintiff is involved in a section 107(a) action.  Why should a private party incur all of the cleanup costs before obtaining a declaration of liability?  What incentive is there for a plaintiff to either begin or finish the cleanup process?  If future costs are not speculative in the context of section 107(a), they are no more so when a plaintiff has not yet incurred recoverable response costs and simply seeks a declaration of liability.[157]  Therefore, the overall purposes and goals of CERCLA are best served by allowing a plaintiff to obtain a declaration of future liability even when that plaintiff has failed to show past response costs under section 107(a).

Conclusion

Obtaining declaratory relief under section 113(g)(2) is mandatory when a plaintiff successfully shows incurred response costs under section 107(a).[158]  This Comment focuses on the fact that there is no requirement in the statutory text of section 113(g)(2) that prohibits plaintiffs from solely seeking a declaration of a PRP’s liability for future costs, especially when those future costs look certain.  While a declaratory judgment is typically awarded at the court’s discretion under the Declaratory Judgment Act, Congress has provided for mandatory declaratory relief in CERCLA actions under section 113(g)(2).[159]  Such a rule allows for expedited responses and settlement, and encourages private parties to clean up according to the NCP after the defendant is declared liable, thereby serving CERCLA’s broader purposes.  It also puts PRPs on notice of their liability and the possibility that they will have to reimburse the private party plaintiff, allowing the PRP to plan ahead.

CERCLA—and specifically the NCP, since it appears to hinder most of these section 107(a) actions—should not encumber a plaintiff’s choice to voluntarily clean up.[160]  Without allowing for the possibility of declaratory relief, there is no incentive for a plaintiff to continue or begin the cleanup process.  Why should an innocent party pay for the entire cleanup process before obtaining declaration of the responsible party’s liability?  The statute does not explicitly require this, nor should the federal courts.  The Ninth Circuit interpreted section 113(g)(2) narrowly, ignoring the important fact that no matter what, at some point, the private party plaintiff will have to show that these future costs were in fact necessary and consistent with the NCP.[161]  There is no blank check for the private party plaintiff, but there should be declaratory relief.


[1]. Comprehensive Environmental Response, Compensation, and Liability Act, Pub. L. No. 96-510, 94 Stat. 2767 (1980) (codified as amended at 42 U.S.C. §§ 9601–9675 (2006)).

[2]. Richard L. Revesz, Environmental Law and Policy 630–31 (2008).

[3]. Id.

[4]. See infra notes 12–15 and accompanying text.

[5]. Amoco Oil Co. v. Borden, Inc., 889 F.2d 664, 667–68 (5th Cir. 1989).

[6]. Section 113(g)(2) is codified as amended at 42 U.S.C. § 9613(g)(2).  However, this Comment will refer to the provision as section 113(g)(2).  Likewise, 42 U.S.C. §§ 9607(a) and 9613(f) will be referred to as sections 107(a) and 113(f), respectively.

[7]. See Reichhold, Inc. v. U.S. Metals Ref. Co., 522 F. Supp. 2d 724, 729 (D.N.J. 2007) (explaining that the entry of a declaratory judgment is mandatory in a section 107(a) cost-recovery action).

[8]. See City of Colton v. Am. Promotional Events, Inc.-W., 614 F.3d 998, 1006–07 (9th Cir. 2010) (describing the current circuit split).

[9]. 28 U.S.C. §§ 2201–2202 (2006).

[10]. See Skelly Oil Co. v. Phillips Petroleum Co., 339 U.S. 667, 671–72 (1950) (finding that the Declaratory Judgment Act does not alter the jurisdictional requirements of federal courts).

[11]. See infra Part I.B.1.

[12]. Richard L. Revesz & Richard B. Stewart, The Superfund Debate, in Analyzing Superfund: Economics, Science, and Law 3, 6–7 (Richard L. Revesz & Richard B. Stewart eds., 1995).

[13]. 42 U.S.C. § 9607(a)(4)(A)–(D) (2006).

[14]. § 9607(a)(1)–(4) (noting that PRPs can include prior owners and operators, generators, transporters, and current owners).

[15]. City of Colton v. Am. Promotional Events, Inc.-W., 614 F.3d 998, 1002–03 (9th Cir. 2010) (citations omitted) (quoting Carson Harbor Vill., Ltd. v. Unocal Corp., 270 F.3d 863, 870–71 (9th Cir. 2001) (en banc), cert. denied, 131 S. Ct. 646 (2010)).

[16]. United States v. Davis, 261 F.3d 1, 29 (1st Cir. 2001).

[17]. Am. Promotional Events, 614 F.3d at 1007.

[18]. § 9613(g)(2).

[19]. PMC, Inc. v. Sherwin-Williams Co., 151 F.3d 610, 616 (7th Cir. 1998).

[20]. Boeing Co. v. Cascade Corp., 207 F.3d 1177, 1191 (9th Cir. 2000).

[21]. PMC, Inc., 151 F.3d at 616.

[22]. United States v. Hardage, 982 F.2d 1436, 1445 (10th Cir. 1992).

[23]. Id.

[24]. Superfund Amendments and Reauthorization Act of 1986, Pub. L. No. 99-499, 100 Stat. 1613 (codified as amended in scattered sections of 42 U.S.C.).  The amendment states: “Section 113 of CERCLA is amended by adding the following new subsection[:] (1) CONTRIBUTION.—Any person may seek contribution from any other person who is liable or potentially liable under section 107(a), during or following any civil action under section 106 or under section 107(a).”  Id. § 113.

[25]. United States v. Davis, 261 F.3d 1, 29 (1st Cir. 2001).

[26]. United States v. Atl. Research Corp., 551 U.S. 128, 138 (2007).

[27]. Davis, 261 F.3d at 29.  But see Atl. Research Corp., 551 U.S. at 139 (noting that the three-year statute of limitations period for contribution actions under section 113(f) differs from the six-year statute of limitations for cost-recovery actions).

[28]. Boeing Co. v. Cascade Corp., 207 F.3d 1177, 1191 (9th Cir. 2000).

[29]. Id.  See also Davis, 261 F.3d at 46 (“The statute does not explicitly provide for declaratory relief for a contribution action [but] nothing in the statute precludes an interpretation that declaratory relief is available in both instances.”).

[30]. Boeing, 207 F.3d at 1191.

[31]. See, e.g., Kelley v. E.I. DuPont de Nemours & Co., 17 F.3d 836, 844 (6th Cir. 1994) (“The fact that future costs are somewhat speculative is ‘no bar to a present declaration of liability.’” (quoting United States v. Fairchild Indus., Inc., 766 F. Supp. 405, 415 (D. Md. 1991))).

[32]. See Consol. Edison Co. of N.Y., Inc. v. UGI Utils., Inc., 423 F.3d 90, 95 (2d Cir. 2005) (holding that subject matter jurisdiction only existed under section 107(a)).

[33]. Sun Co. v. Browning-Ferris, Inc., 124 F.3d 1187, 1192 (10th Cir. 1997).

[34]. See id. at 1191.

[35]. Union Carbide Corp. v. Thiokol Corp., 890 F. Supp. 1035, 1051 (S.D. Ga. 1994).

[36]. Rockwell Int’l Corp. v. IU Int’l Corp., 702 F. Supp. 1384, 1389 (N.D. Ill. 1988).

[37]. See, e.g., City of Colton v. Am. Promotional Events, Inc.-W., 614 F.3d 998, 1007 (9th Cir. 2010) (“Colton’s complaint referred to the Declaratory Judgment Act rather than CERCLA section 113(g)(2) . . . .”), cert. denied, 131 S. Ct. 646 (2010); United States v. Davis, 261 F.3d 1, 47 (1st Cir. 2001) (addressing “appellants’ arguments that the district court’s entry of a declaratory judgment was improper under the Declaratory Judgment Act”); see also Olin Corp. v. Consol. Aluminum Corp., 5 F.3d 10, 17 (2d Cir. 1993); Reichhold, Inc. v. U.S. Metals Ref. Co., 522 F. Supp. 2d 724, 728 (D.N.J. 2007); Mercury Mall Assocs. v. Nick’s Mkt., Inc., 368 F. Supp. 2d 513, 520 (E.D. Va. 2005).

[38]. 28 U.S.C. § 2201 (2006).

[39]. Md. Cas. Co. v. Pac. Coal & Oil Co., 312 U.S. 270, 273 (1941).

[40]. Davis, 261 F.3d at 46.

[41]. Id. at 47.

[42]. See, e.g., Am. Promotional Events, 614 F.3d at 1007–08.

[43]. 42 U.S.C. § 9613(g)(2) (2006) (requiring that “the court shall enter a declaratory judgment” for future liability (emphasis added)).

[44]. Reichhold, Inc., v. U.S. Metals Ref. Co., 522 F. Supp. 2d 724, 729 (D.N.J. 2007).

[45]. See supra notes 24–30 and accompanying text.

[46]. See, e.g., Olin Corp. v. Consol. Aluminum Corp., 5 F.3d 10, 17 (2d Cir. 1993); Reichhold, Inc., 522 F. Supp. 2d at 728; Mercury Mall Assocs. v. Nick’s Mkt., Inc., 368 F. Supp. 2d 513, 520 (E.D. Va. 2005).

[47]. Wickland Oil Terminals v. Asarco, Inc., 792 F.2d 887, 893 (9th Cir. 1986) (quoting 28 U.S.C. § 2201 (2006)).

[48]. United States v. Davis, 261 F.3d 1, 48 (1st Cir. 2001).

[49]. See John F. Duffy, Administrative Common Law in Judicial Review, 77 Tex. L. Rev. 113, 163–64 (1998) (“The injunctive and declaratory judgment remedies are discretionary, and courts traditionally have been reluctant to apply them to administrative determinations unless these arise in the context of a controversy ‘ripe’ for judicial resolution.”).  But see Reichhold, Inc., 522 F. Supp. 2d at 729 (holding that the entry of a declaratory judgment is “mandatory” in a section 107(a) cost-recovery action).

[50]. See Flast v. Cohen, 392 U.S. 83, 96 (1968) (finding the rule against advisory opinions to be rooted in Article III of the U.S. Constitution).

[51]. See Aetna Life Ins. Co. v. Haworth, 300 U.S. 227, 239–40 (1937) (explaining that the “case or controversy” language in the Declaratory Judgment Act “manifestly has regard to the constitutional provision”); Henry H. Gu, The Hatch-Waxman Act and the Declaratory Judgment Action: Constitutional and Practical Implications, 57 Rutgers L. Rev. 771, 785 (2005) (“The Court has observed that the Declaratory Judgment Act of 1934 was adjudged to be constitutional only by interpreting its provision requiring a case of ‘actual controversy’ as confining the declaratory remedy within conventional ‘case or controversy’ limits.”).

[52]. Raymond W. Beauchamp, England’s Chilling Forecast: The Case for Granting Declaratory Relief To Prevent English Defamation Actions from Chilling American Speech, 74 Fordham L. Rev. 3073, 3097 (2006).

[53]. City of Colton v. Am. Promotional Events, Inc.-W., 614 F.3d 998, 1004 (9th Cir. 2010), cert. denied, 131 S. Ct. 646 (2010).

[54]. Id. at 1005 (alteration in original) (quoting Wickland Oil Terminals v. Asarco, Inc., 792 F.2d 887, 893 (9th Cir. 1986)).

[55]. Id.

[56]. Cal. ex rel. Cal. Dep’t of Toxic Substances Control v. Neville Chem. Co., 358 F.3d 661, 668 n.4 (9th Cir. 2004).

[57]. See supra notes 50–52 and accompanying text.

[58]. Am. Promotional Events, 614 F.3d at 1006.

[59]. Id. (quoting Staacke v. U.S. Sec’y of Labor, 841 F.2d 278, 280 (9th Cir. 1988)); see also Skelly Oil Co. v. Phillips Petroleum Co., 339 U.S. 667, 671–72 (1950) (explaining that the Declaratory Judgment Act is a procedural statute, not an independent basis of federal jurisdiction).

[60]. Am. Promotional Events, 614 F.3d at 1006.

[61]. Id. (quoting Cement Masons Health & Welfare Trust Fund for N. Cal. v. Stone, 197 F.3d 1003, 1008 (9th Cir. 1999)).

[62]. 28 U.S.C. § 2201 (2006) (requiring a “case of actual controversy” in order for there to be federal jurisdiction).

[63]. Am. Promotional Events, 614 F.3d at 1007.

[64]. Id.

[65]. Hinck v. United States, 550 U.S. 501, 506 (2007) (quoting EC Term of Years Trust v. United States, 550 U.S. 429, 433 (2007)).

[66]. Am. Promotional Events, 614 F.3d at 1007–08.

[67]. See supra note 15 and accompanying text.

[68]. See Am. Promotional Events, 614 F.3d at 1007.

[69]. See United States v. USX Corp., 68 F.3d 811, 819 (3d Cir. 1995) (“In providing for the recovery of response costs, Congress included language to insure that a responsible party’s liability, once established, would not have to be relitigated . . . .” (quoting Kelley v. E.I. DuPont De Nemours & Co., 17 F.3d 836, 844 (6th Cir. 1994))).

[70]. Am. Promotional Events, 614 F.3d at 1004.

[71]. Id.

[72]. Id. at 1007–09.

[73]. Id. at 1007 (quoting 42 U.S.C. § 9613(g)(2) (2006)).

[74]. Id.

[75]. Id. (quoting Transamerica Mortg. Advisors, Inc. v. Lewis, 444 U.S. 11, 19–20 (1979)).

[76]. Id. at 1007–08.

[77]. Id.

[78]. Id. at 1008.

[79]. Id.

[80]. Id.

[81]. Id.

[82]. Id.

[83]. Id.

[84]. Id.

[85]. Id.

[86]. Id.

[87]. Id. at 1003.

[88]. Id.

[89]. Id.

[90]. Id.

[91]. Id.

[92]. Id.

[93]. Id. at 1004.

[94]. Id.

[95]. See supra note 15 and accompanying text.

[96]. Am. Promotional Events, 614 F.3d at 1007–08.

[97]. The NCP “establish[es] procedures and standards for responding to releases of hazardous substances.”  42 U.S.C. § 9605(a) (2006); see also PMC, Inc. v. Sherwin Williams Co., 151 F.3d 610, 616 (7th Cir. 1998) (finding that the purpose of requiring public comment is to ensure “that the remedial measures undertaken hopefully at the expense of someone else are not excessive or otherwise improvident”); Cnty. Line Inv. Co. v. Tinney, 933 F.2d 1508, 1513 (10th Cir. 1991) (“To be consistent with the NCP for the purpose of cost-recovery under section 107 of CERCLA, [private party] responses must, as appropriate, address the full range of [remedial] alternatives outlined in § 300.68(f), as well as comply with all other [remedy selection] provisions of § 300.68(e) through (i).  Such responses also must provide an opportunity for appropriate public comment.  This public comment must be consistent with § 300.67(d).”); 40 C.F.R. pt. 300 (2010).  But see James R. Deason, Note, Clear As Mud: The Function of the National Contingency Plan Consistency Requirement in a CERCLA Private Cost-Recovery Action, 28 Ga. L. Rev. 555, 577 (1994) (arguing that NCP consistency should be an element of damages and not an element of a plaintiff’s prima facie case for cost recovery under section 107(a)).

[98]. Am. Promotional Events, 614 F.3d at 1007.

[99]. Trimble v. Asarco, Inc., 232 F.3d 946, 950 (8th Cir. 2000).

[100]. Id.

[101]. Id. at 950–51.

[102]. Id. at 958.

[103]. Id.

[104]. Id.

[105]. Id.

[106]. Id. at 958 n.15.

[107]. Id.

[108]. Id.

[109]. Gussack Realty Co. v. Xerox Corp., 224 F.3d 85, 92 (2d Cir. 2000); see also Amoco Oil Co. v. Borden, Inc., 889 F.2d 664, 667 (8th Cir. 1989) (“Because of the complexity of CERCLA cases, which often involve multiple defendants and difficult remedial questions, courts have bifurcated the liability and remedial, or damages, phases of CERCLA litigation.  In doing so, disputed factual and legal issues pertaining only to liability are resolved before deciding the more complicated and technical questions of appropriate cleanup measures and the proportionate fault of liable parties.”) (citations omitted).

[110]. Gussack, 224 F.3d at 92.

[111]. Id.

[112]. Id.

[113]. United States v. Occidental Chem. Corp., 200 F.3d 143 (3d Cir. 1999).

[114]. Id. at 153.

[115]. Id. at 153–54.

[116]. See United States v. Davis, 261 F.3d 1, 46 (1st Cir. 2001); Cnty. Line Inv. Co. v. Tinney, 933 F.2d 1508, 1513 (10th Cir. 1991).

[117]. Davis, 261 F.3d at 14.

[118]. See supra notes 27–30 and accompanying text.

[119]. Tinney, 933 F.2d at 1512 n.7 (noting the important difference between a private party plaintiff and the government, and the “lessened standard of proof under the statute”).  Compare 42 U.S.C. § 9607(a)(4)(A) (stating that the government can recover “all costs of removal or remedial action incurred . . . not inconsistent with the national contingency plan”) (emphasis added), with § 9607(a)(4)(B) (stating that private parties can recover “necessary costs of response incurred . . . consistent with the national contingency plan”).

[120]. Tinney, 933 F.2d at 1513.

[121]. Id.

[122]. Davis, 261 F.3d at 46–47.

[123]. Id. at 46.

[124]. Id.

[125]. Id.

[126]. Id.

[127]. Id.

[128]. Id. at 47 (quoting United States v. Davis, 31 F. Supp. 2d 45, 58 (D.R.I. 1998)).

[129]. See Southland Corp. v. Ashland Oil, Inc., 696 F. Supp. 994, 1003 (D.N.J. 1988); T & E Indus. v. Safety Light Corp., 680 F. Supp. 696, 709 (D.N.J. 1988).

[130]. T & E Indus., 680 F. Supp. at 709.

[131]. Id. at 709 n.15.

[132]. Id.

[133]. Southland, 680 F. Supp. at 1003.

[134]. Id.

[135]. Id. (citing O’Neil v. Picillo, 628 F. Supp. 706, 730 (D.R.I. 1988)).

[136]. See supra Part II.A.

[137]. United States v. Davis, 261 F.3d 1, 46 (1st Cir. 2001).

[138]. 42 U.S.C. § 9613(g)(2) (2006).

[139]. United States v. Hardage, 982 F.2d 1436, 1445 (10th Cir. 1992) (“[T]he entry of declaratory judgment on the issue of liability for future response costs is appropriate.”).

[140]. City of Colton v. Am. Promotional Events, Inc.-W., 614 F.3d 998, 1008 (9th Cir. 2010), cert. denied, 131 S. Ct. 646 (2010).

[141]. § 9613(g)(2).

[142]. Am. Promotional Events, 614 F.3d at 1007–08 (quoting Transamerica Mortg. Advisors, Inc. v. Lewis, 444 U.S. 11, 19 (1979)); see also Dolan v. U.S. Postal Serv., 546 U.S. 481, 481 (2006) (“[I]nterpretation of a word or phrase depends upon reading the whole statutory text, considering the statute’s purpose and context.”).

[143]. United States v. Davis, 261 F.3d 1, 46 (1st Cir. 2001).

[144]. Id.

[145]. Am. Promotional Events, 614 F.3d at 1008.

[146]. Id.

[147]. See, e.g., Steven Ferrey, Inverting the Law: Superfund Hazardous Substance Liability and Supreme Court Reversal of All Federal Circuits, 33 Wm. & Mary Envtl. L. & Pol’y Rev. 633, 703 (2009); Blake A. Watson, Liberal Construction of CERCLA Under the Remedial Purpose Canon: Have the Lower Courts Taken a Good Thing Too Far?, 20 Harv. Envtl. L. Rev. 199, 272–73 (1996).

[148]. Boeing Co. v. Cascade Corp., 207 F.3d 1177, 1191 (9th Cir. 2000).

[149]. Id.

[150]. See Revesz & Stewart, supra note 12, at 7 (“Because significant periods of time—often several decades—can elapse between the disposal of hazardous substances and the cleanup, it is particularly likely that some PRPs will not be found or will be insolvent once they are found.”).

[151]. Boeing, 207 F.3d at 1190.

[152]. Cnty. Line Inv. Co. v. Tinney, 933 F.2d 1508, 1513 n.9 (10th Cir. 1991).

[153]. Kelley v. E.I. DuPont de Nemours & Co., 17 F.3d 836, 844 (6th Cir. 1994) (“In providing for the recovery of response costs, Congress included language to ensure that a responsible party’s liability, once established, would not have to be relitigated . . . .”).

[154]. See Cal. ex rel. Cal. Dep’t of Toxic Substances Control v. Neville Chem. Co., 358 F.3d 661, 668 n.4 (9th Cir. 2004).

[155]. See Deason, supra note 97, at 590 (“Simply stated, a party that causes hazardous waste to be released into the environment is ‘responsible’ for that release regardless of whether it ultimately bears the costs associated with the remedy.”); see also Watson, supra note 147, at 286 (“CERCLA . . . is arguably the most remedial of all federal environmental statutes, since its controlling focus is to remedy the harmful effects of previously disposed hazardous wastes in order to preserve the public health and the environment.”).

[156]. United States v. Davis, 261 F.3d 1, 47 (1st Cir. 2001) (quoting United States v. Davis, 31 F. Supp. 2d. 45, 58 (D.R.I. 1998)).

[157]. See supra notes 21–22 and accompanying text.

[158]. Reichhold, Inc., v. U.S. Metals Ref. Co., 522 F. Supp. 2d 724, 729 (D.N.J. 2007) (holding that the entry of a declaratory judgment is “mandatory” in a section 107(a) cost-recovery action).

[159]. Wilton v. Seven Falls Co., 515 U.S. 277, 282 (1995) (“[D]istrict courts possess discretion in determining whether and when to entertain an action under the Declaratory Judgment Act, even when the suit otherwise satisfies subject matter jurisdictional prerequisites.”).

[160]. See supra Part II.

[161]. See supra Part II.A.1.

* J.D. Candidate, May 2012, Wake Forest University School of Law.  The author would like to thank Professor Richard Schneider and the members of the Wake Forest Law Review for their assistance on this Comment, and her family for all of their love and support.

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