Category: News Feeds

An
incarcerated
murder-for-hire
convict
in
a
federal
lawsuit
over
whether
an
animal
sanctuary
can
neuter
a
white
Bengal
tiger
named
Elvis
that
the
plaintiff
used
to
own
is
already
hallucinatory
enough
without
the
case
citations
being
fake.

Joseph
Maldonado
—
better
known
to
everyone
who
Netflix-ed
their
way
through
the
pandemic
as
Joe
Exotic
—
is
currently
housed
at
FMC
Fort
Worth,
where
he

pesters
Donald
Trump
for
a
pardon
and
an
administration
position
at
Fish
and
Wildlife.
But
he’s
also

suing
Black
Pine
Animal
Sanctuary
in
the
Northern
District
of
Indiana
over
the
fate
of
four
tigers
seized
from
Maldonado’s
former
associates
Jeff
and
Lauren
Lowe
back
in
2022.
The
sanctuary
announced
plans
to
neuter
Elvis,
one
of
the
white
Bengals,
prompting
Maldonado,
through
counsel
Roger
Roots,
to
file
a
federal
suit
under
the
Endangered
Species
Act.

Fast
forward
to
Chief
Judge
Holly
Brady’s
February
27

show
cause
order.
Judge
Brady
ran
her
own
research
on
Maldonado’s
work
in
the
case
and
discovered
a
plethora
of
made
up
cases.
The
complaint
anticipates
the
standing
challenge
(which
the
court
had
flagged
in
a
prior
iteration
of
this
same
case)
by
citing
a
case
that…
doesn’t
exist.

The
Court
searched
for
that
case
with
that
citation,
but
the
case
number
leads
to
an
unrelated
debt
case
and
the
Westlaw
identifier
returns
no
result
at
all.
And
while
a
case
with
that
name
exists
with
a
different
case
number,
there
is
no
order
for
that
date
and
no
order
that
makes
any
reference
to
standing
beyond
the
fact
that
the
defendants
never
challenged
or
even
brought
up
the
Plaintiff’s
standing.

Twice
more,
Judge
Brady
notes,
counsel
cited
cases
that
“technically
exist
but
cannot
be
found
at
his
provided
citation,
have
no
order
on
his
cited
date,
and
apparently
do
not
support
what
he
represents
to
the
Court.”
The
footnote
catalogues
two
such
entries.
A

PETA
v.
Wildlife
in
Need
cite
that
resolves
to
a
Western
District
of
Virginia
criminal
matter,
and
a

PETA
v.
Tri-State
Zoological
Park
cite
that
resolves
to
an
SDNY
employment
case.

The
opposition
brief
is,
in
Brady’s
words,
“an
extensive
affair
which
at
times
reads
more
like
a
legal
treatise
on
the
ESA
as
opposed
to
a
legal
brief.”
Which
is
judicial
speak
for
“I
ain’t
reading
all
that
—
I’m happy
for
u tho. Or
sorry
that
happened.”
The
brief
lists
various
“ESA
injuries”
with
supporting
caselaw,
and
the
caselaw
—
the
caselaw
that
actually
exists
—
doesn’t
support
the
propositions.

For
instance,
he
cites

In
Defense
of
Animals
v.
National
Institutes
of
Health,
543
F.
Supp.
70
(D.D.C.
2008),
for
his
assertion
that
“Loss
of
scientific
data,
interruption
of
research,
or
inability
to
continue
long-term
animal
studies
constitutes
injury-in-fact”
and
that
“[c]ourts
emphasize
that
scientific
frustration
is
a
valid
injury
even
without
direct
physical
access.”
(ECF
No.
17
at
15).
But
not
only
is

In
Defense
of
Animals
a
Freedom
of
Information
Act
case
with
no
reference
or
connection
to
the
ESA,
the
opinion
does
not
mention
standing,
scientific
injuries,
or

anything
that
would
support
Maldonado’s
proposition. 

And
it
keeps
going
like
that.
One
case
described
as
“Conservation
and
scientific
professionals
have
standing
when
mistreatment
of
animals
disrupts
their
work,”
actually
concluded
that
a
circus
elephant
handler
didn’t
have
an
injury-in-fact
just
because
he
wanted
to
work
with
the
elephants
again.
As
Judge
Brady
wrote,
“while
other
ESA
cases
might
support
his
contention
about
standing
for
emotional
injuries,
the
case
he
chose
was
explicitly
not
among
them.”

This
raises
the
obvious
2026
question:
did
counsel
use
generative
AI
to
produce
this
filing?

While
these
cases
and
citations
were
not
fully
fabricated,
as
is
often
the
story,
the
inaccuracies
and
misrepresentations
nevertheless
bear
much
resemblance
to
other
instances
in
which
pro
se
litigants
or
attorneys
have
relied
on
generative
AI
to
produce
their
filings,
in
part
or
in
full.

See,
e.g.,

Jones
v.
Kankakee
Cnty.
Sherriff’s
Dep’t,
164
F.4th
967,
969
(7th
Cir.
2026)
(“To
our
eye,
the
error
has
all
the
hallmarks
of
a
so-called
AI
“hallucination,”
a
circumstance
where
an
AI
large
language
model
generates
an
output
that
is
fictional,
inaccurate,
or
nonsensical.”).
Although
these
aren’t
quite
the
typical
hallmarks
of
AI
hallucination,
the
legal
misrepresentations,
nonexistent
citations,
and
length
policy
sections
altogether
are
too
fishy
for
the
Court
to
believe.
There
is
something
rotten
in
the
Northern
District
of
Indiana,
and
it’s
not
the
fish
being
fed
to
Maldonado’s
former
tigers.

As
we

noted
recently,
humans
are
fully
capable
of
producing
this
kind
of
slop
without
Claude
or
ChatGPT’s
help.
As
Brady
explains,
“But
even
if
Maldonado’s
counsel
did
not
use
AI
for
his
filings,
the
Court
is
deeply
concerned
by
these
blatant
misrepresentations
of
law.”

We
are
now
past

1,000
documented
AI
hallucination
cases
globally.
Sullivan
&
Cromwell
—
the
firm
that
represents
OpenAI
—

just
had
to
file
an
emergency
letter
explaining
why
its
Prince
Global
Holdings
brief
was
riddled
with
hallucinated
citations.
Gordon
Rees
is
now
a

serial
offender.
Butler
Snow
got

three
lawyers
kicked
off
a
case.
Courts
are
losing
patience.

The
lawyer
responded,
pinning
responsibility
on
a
paralegal
filing
a
non-final
draft.
“Although
he
does
not
directly
address
the
use
of
AI
for
the
filings,
that
use
can
be
read
between
the
lines,”
wrote
Judge
Brady
in

her
opinion.
Ultimately,
the
attorney
received
a
$1,500
fine
and
a
bar
referral.

Elvis…
not
as
lucky.

(Order
to
Show
Cause
on
next
page…)

---

Joe
Patrice is
a
senior
editor
at
Above
the
Law
and
co-host
of

Thinking
Like
A
Lawyer.
Feel
free
to email
any
tips,
questions,
or
comments.
Follow
him
on Twitter or

Bluesky
if
you’re
interested
in
law,
politics,
and
a
healthy
dose
of
college
sports
news.
Joe
also
serves
as
a

Managing
Director
at
RPN
Executive
Search.

Ed.
note:
Welcome
to
our
daily
feature, Quote
of
the
Day.

The
reputational
concern
is
that
it
tells
the
court
you
didn’t
read
the
case
and
you
didn’t
cite
check
your
brief.
Firms
are
now
getting
sanctioned
for
it
so
there
is
an
economic
concern
as
well.
I
think
most
law
firm
leaders
would
agree
that
the
most
significant
issue
is
the
impact
on
the
reputation
and
brand
of
the
firm.

— 
A
law
firm
leader,
in
comments
given
to

Law.com
on
the
condition
of
anonymity,
concerning
Sullivan
&
Cromwell’s
recent

run-in
with
AI
hallucinations
submitted
in
a
court
filing.
The
firm
leader
went
on
to
say
that
“[r]ule
number
one
from
first
year
of
law
school
is
don’t
cite
fictional
cases.”
A
New
York
practice
group
leader
echoed
those
thoughts,
telling

Law.com,
“Somebody
manually
has
to
go
and
look
at
every
case
and
every
quote,
and
make
sure
that
it’s
there.
We
always
do
that.
We
did
that
10
years
ago.
We
did
that
15
years
ago.
I
did
that
as
a
first
year
associate.
In
fact,
I
did
that
in
law
school
when
I
was
on
law
review
and
did
cite
checking.
So,
in
some
ways,
that’s
not
new.
What’s
just
new
is
the
allure
of
the
[AI]
shortcut,
you
know?“

---

Staci
Zaretsky is
the
managing
editor
of
Above
the
Law,
where
she’s
worked
since
2011.
She’d
love
to
hear
from
you,
so
please
feel
free
to email her
with
any
tips,
questions,
comments,
or
critiques.
You
can
follow
her
on Bluesky, X/Twitter,
and Threads, or
connect
with
her
on LinkedIn.

Remember
when
general
counsel
were
the
cavalry?
When
the
corporate
legal
world
was
going
to
save
Biglaw
from
itself
by
threatening
to
yank
business
from
firms
that
couldn’t
put
a
diverse
team
on
the
field?
For
a
hot
minute
there,
it
actually
seemed
to
be
working.

Well.
About
that.

A
new
Bloomberg
Law

report
documents
what
many
of
us
have
suspected:
under
Trump
2.0,
corporate
America
is
walking
away
from
the
diversity
commitments
they
once
dangled
over
their
outside
law
firms
like
a
sword
of
Damocles.
And
in
the
process,
they’re
taking
what
little
hard-won
progress
existed
in
the
legal
profession
and
tossing
it
into
the
nearest
dumpster.

Microsoft,
which
had
one
of
the
longest-running
outside
counsel
diversity
programs
in
Biglaw
history
dating
to
2008,
has
ended
the
initiative.
That
program
tied
bonuses
to
diversity
metrics
on
teams
working
Microsoft
matters,
as
well
as
firmwide
efforts
to
diversify
partner
ranks.
Now?
“We
do
not
offer
incentives
or
bonuses
tied
to
the
workforce
composition
of
our
outside
counsel
or
suppliers,”
a
Microsoft
spokesperson
said,
declining
to
say
when
the
company
made
the
shift.
Cool,
great,
very
brave.

Then
there’s
Meta.
The
Facebook
parent,
which
since
2017
had
required
at
least
a
third
of
lawyers
on
its
matters
to
be
women
or
ethnic
minorities,
announced
in
January
2025
it
was
dropping
diversity
requirements
for
outside
suppliers
entirely.
Poof.

These
weren’t
symbolic
commitments
—
they
were
among
the
most
concrete
mechanisms
in-house
counsel
had
developed
to
actually
move
the
needle.

Back
in
2021,
we
covered
Coca-Cola
GC
Bradley
Gayton’s
landmark
policy
demanding
firms
staff
at
least
30%
of
new
matters
with
diverse
attorneys,
with
at
least
half
that
billable
time
going
to
Black
lawyers,
on
pain
of
fee
reductions
or
removal
from
the
roster
altogether.
It
was
the
most
aggressive
outside
counsel
diversity
mandate
Biglaw
had
ever
seen.

It
lasted
approximately
three
months.

Gayton
was
out
after
only
eight
months
on
the
job
—
shown
the
door
just
weeks
after
rolling
out
the
policy,
with
Coca-Cola
immediately
putting
the
diversity
plan
on
pause.
Nobody
officially
explained
what
happened.
The
CEO
issued
the
corporate
equivalent
of
a
hostage
statement
but
with
a
massive
severance
package,
thanking
Gayton
for
his
service
and
calling
him
“a
strategic
and
results-oriented
leader.”
Gayton
issued
his
own
anodyne
quote
about
the
“privilege”
of
the
work.

The
lesson
corporate
America
apparently
took
from
the
Gayton
episode
wasn’t
“we
need
to
protect
bold
GCs
who
push
for
change.”
It
was
“don’t
be
Bradley
Gayton.”
The
current
Bloomberg
Law
story
is
really
just
that
lesson,
playing
out
at
scale.
Trump
2.0
didn’t
create
the
corporate
retreat
from
outside
counsel
diversity
mandates.
He
just
made
it
socially
acceptable
to
surrender
openly,
instead
of
doing
it
quietly
with
an
eight-figure
severance
check.

The
fear
driving
the
retreat
is
palpable,
even
among
those
who
know
better.
“Even
if
what
they’re
doing
is
quite
popular
and
legally
safe,
if
they’ve
got
the
label
on
it
of
DEI
or
something
that
sounds
like
DEI,
they
think
that
it’s
putting
a
target
on
their
back
because
the
administration
doesn’t
like
DEI,”
said
David
Glasgow,
an
attorney
who
advises
firms
on
their
diversity
measures.
This
is
institutional
cowardice
dressed
up
as
legal
caution.

Paula
Boggs,
the
former
GC
of
Starbucks,
put
it
plainly:
“There
are
law
firms
that
mouthed
a
commitment
to
diversity
and
inclusion
because
they
knew
that
would
make
them
more
palatable
to
companies.
In
the
absence
of
that
pressure
they
feel
no
need
to
engage
in
it
and
make
the
effort.”

Read
that
again.
The
diversity
commitments
that
law
firms
made
to
land
and
keep
corporate
clients
were,
for
many
of
them,
always
just
marketing.

Even
in
2019,
when
over
170
GCs
signed
an
open
letter
to
Biglaw
demanding
statistical
progress
or
threatening
to
take
their
business
elsewhere,
there
were
those
that
suspected
it
was
but
a
momentary
concern.
The
cynics
were
right
then:
a
lot
of
those
firms
just
hoped
the
heat
would
die
down.
Now
it
has.

And
the
data
tells
a
stark
story.
The
share
of
Black
summer
associates
at
law
firms
fell
for
the
third
straight
year
in
2025,
dropping
to
about
8.5%,
according
to
the
National
Association
for
Law
Placement.
The
overall
proportion
of
summer
associates
of
color
fell
to
roughly
38%
—
the
lowest
since
2020.
The
gains
that
GC
pressure
helped
produce
are
already
eroding.
Years
of
progress,
evaporating
in
months.

You
want
to
know
what
accelerated
this?
Look
no
further
than
the
Trump
administration’s
systematic
campaign
to
bully
every
diversity
infrastructure
in
the
profession
out
of
existence.

Like
the
FTC’s
decision
to
send
warning
letters
to
42
Biglaw
firms,
threatening
antitrust
liability
for
participating
in
Diversity
Lab’s
Mansfield
Certification
program,
a
program
that
doesn’t
actually
work
the
way
the
FTC
described,
as
actual
antitrust
lawyers
were
quick
to
note.
Didn’t
matter.
The
goal
was
intimidation,
not
accuracy.
And
it
worked:

Diversity
Lab
announced
in
February
2026
that
it
was
pausing
the
Mansfield
certification
program
entirely,
its
operating
funds
“substantially
depleted”
after
clients
began
fleeing.
Biglaw,
famously
brave
when
billing
$2,000
an
hour,
apparently
has
limits.

And
of
course,
into
this
vacuum
strides
Edward
Blum
—
the
man
who
has
made
a
career
out
of
dismantling
every
mechanism
society
has
devised
to
address
historical
inequity
—
to
declare
victory.
“It
is
an
altogether
positive
development
that
law
firm
clients
are
no
longer
specifying
the
racial
makeup
of
the
legal
teams
assigned
to
represent
them,”
said
Blum,
whose
advocacy
group
led
the
suits
that
prompted
the
Supreme
Court
to
strike
down
affirmative
action
in
college
admissions
three
years
ago.
“The
race
or
ethnicity
of
a
lawyer
is
irrelevant.”

Lovely.

The
man
who
has
spent
years
manipulating
the
system
and

manufacturing
plaintiffs
to

achieve
his
political
ends
gets
to
announce
the
end
of
an
era.
When
Blum’s
American
Alliance
for
Equal
Rights

began
suing
Biglaw
firms
over
their
diversity
fellowships
in
2023,

Perkins
Coie,

Morrison
&
Foerster,
and

Gibson
Dunn
all
folded.
By
December
2023,

Blum
was
declaring
there
was
“nothing
left
to
do”
in
the
law
firm
space
because
the
profession
had
surrendered.
Now
corporate
clients
are
doing
the
same
thing.

GCs
are

uniquely
positioned
to
drive
change
because
they
have
leverage
law
firms
can’t
ignore.
But
that
leverage
only
works
if
you’re
willing
to
use
it.
And
right
now,
the
corporate
legal
world
has
decided
the
political
environment
makes
that
leverage
too
costly
to
deploy.

---

Kathryn
Rubino
is
a
Senior
Editor
at
Above
the
Law,
host
of The
Jabot
podcast,
and
co-host
of Thinking
Like
A
Lawyer.
AtL
tipsters
are
the
best,
so
please
connect
with
her.
Feel
free
to
email her with
any
tips,
questions,
or
comments
and
follow
her
on
Twitter @Kathryn1 or
Bluesky @Kathryn1

Most
law
students
have
to
make
it
to
a
Biglaw
firm
before
their
smarts
net
them
their
six-figure
checks.
But
there
are
many
ways
to
put
thinking
like
a
lawyer
to
good
use.
One
lawyerly
talent
—
recalling
strange
bits
of
trivia
at
a
moment’s
notice
—
has
put
a
Seton
Hall
law
student
on
a
path
to
victory
on
Jeopardy!

ABC
has
coverage:

New
Jersey’s
Jamie
Ding
has
become
a
household
name.
Thursday
night,
he’s
going
for
his
30th
straight
win,
an
incredible
stretch
that
is
as
emotional
as
it
is
thrilling.
After
Wednesday
night’s
game,
Jamie
Ding
has
won
a
29-game
total
of
$793,602…The
Princeton
University
alumnus
is
currently
a
law
student
at
Seton
Hall
University.
He’s
also
now
in
5th
place
for
all
time
“Jeopardy!”
wins.

“It’s
weird,”
he
laughs.
“I
still
don’t
believe
it,
but
it’s
also
wonderful.
This
entire
run
has
felt
like
a
just
celebration
of
my
life
and
my
journey.”
With
win
after
win,
Ding
already
secured
a
spot
in
this
year’s
Tournament
of
Champions.

That’s
one
hell
of
an
extracurricular
activity
line
on
the
resume!

Law
Review
and
Trial
team
experience
are
nice
ways
to
spend
your
spare
time
as
you
work
toward
your
JD,
but
they
usually
pay
out
a
lot
less
than
$800k.
And
if
you’re
lucky,
you’ll
still
have
a
chance
to
win
after
graduation
(shouts
out
to

WashU
alum
Alexis
Wiggley’s
Wheel
of
Fortune
win
back
in
February).

Sometimes
we
can
all
use
the
occasional
reminder
that
there’s
more
to
our
futures
than

Biglaw
Burnout.
If
you’re
at
the
point
where
you’re
seriously
considering
something
else,
a
financially
rewarding
game
could
be
just
the
reset
you
need.

‘Jeopardy!’
Contestant
Jamie
Ding
Going
For
30th
Straight
Win
[ABC
11]

---

Chris
Williams
became
a
social
media
manager
and
assistant
editor
for
Above
the
Law
in
June
2021.
Prior
to
joining
the
staff,
he
moonlighted
as
a
minor
Memelord™
in
the
Facebook
group Law
School
Memes
for
Edgy
T14s
.
 He
endured
Missouri
long
enough
to
graduate
from
Washington
University
in
St.
Louis
School
of
Law.
He
is
a
former
boat
builder
who
is
learning
to
swim
and
is
interested
in
rhetoric,
Spinozists
and
humor.
Getting
back
in
to
cycling
wouldn’t
hurt
either.
You
can
reach
him
by
email
at


[email protected]
and
by
Tweet/Bluesky
at @WritesForRent.

Texas
passed
a
law
mandating
that
schools
must
display
the
Ten
Commandments
in
classrooms.
Because
nothing
says,
“we’re
not
establishing
a
religion”
like
forcing
students
to
learn
under
the
watchful
eye
of
a
legislature’s
preferred
scripture.

The
law
inspired
a
swift
legal
challenge
because
the
First
Amendment
is,
to
its
credit,
unambiguous
on
this
point.
And
this
challenge
carried
the
day
until
it
ran
into
a
divided
Fifth
Circuit.
In

Nathan
v.
Alamo
Heights
Independent
School
District,
the
en
banc
Fifth
Circuit

decided
9-8
that,
when
it
talks
about
protecting
the
inviolable
right
of
parents
to
direct
the
religious
education
of
their
own
children
from
state-sponsored
interference,
it
means
the
inviolable
right
of
parents
to
teach
their
kids
about
Texas
Jesus.

And
quite
literally
“Texas
Jesus,”
because
as
noted
by
dissenters,
the
statute
mandates
a
specific
Protestant
translation
of
the
Ten
Commandments
with
substantive
deviations
from
even
other
Judeo-Christian
traditions.

To
recap,
schools
teaching
kids
not
to
bully
gay
people
equals
bad,
public
schools
teaching
kids
the
Protestant
Old
Testament
equals
good.
Second
graders
can’t
know
that
gay
people
exist,
but
they
must
understand
adultery,
by
gum!

Judge
Stuart
Kyle
Duncan,
last
seen

getting
frazzled
trying
to
answer
questions
from
Stanford
Law
students,
wrote
the
majority
opinion
and
it’s
quite
the
tour
de
farce.
Citing

Kennedy,
the
case
where
the
Supreme
Court
got

caught
falsifying
the
factual
record,
Duncan
rejects
on
point
precedent
for
having
been
decided
under
the
abandoned

Lemon
test.
Could
the
Supreme
Court’s
ahistorical
new
standard
also
prohibit
a
state
law
requiring
the
Ten
Commandments
in
public
schools?

Kennedy
was,
after
all,
in
large
part
dependent
on
the
idea
that
the
school
policy
curbed
a
football
coach’s
free
exercise
rights
—
an
issue
not
implicated
here.
Well,
we’ll
never
know,
as
Duncan’s
analysis
is
that
without

Lemon‘s
three-prong
test
(and,
specifically,
its
emphasis
on
a
law
having
a
secular
purpose),
there
are

no
meaningful
limits
at
all
on
state
promotion
of
religion
as
long
as
no
student
is
forced
into
religious
exercise
or
observance
or
catechized
or
taught
the
text.

One
might
wonder
what
the
point
of
the
law
even
is
if
the
state
is
so
confident
that
students
will
never
even
notice
these
displays.
The
Fifth
Circuit
responds:
shut
up,
nerd.

As
for
infringing
the
free
exercise
rights
of
parents
trying
to
raise
their
children,
the
majority
handwaves
that
students
don’t
have
to
believe
the
display.
I,
for
one,
am
looking
forward
to
the
response
from
the
state
of
Texas
when
a
teacher
hangs
a
Cliff’s
Notes
version
of
Sharia
law
next
to
the
Commandments
and
points
out
that
no
student
is
required
to
believe
it:

To
be
clear,
Sharia
law
is
not
allowed
in
Texas.

Nor
are
Sharia
cities.

Nor
are
“no
go
zones“
which
this
project
seems
to
imply.

Bottom
line.
The
project
as
proposed
in
the
video
is
not
allowed
in
Texas.

https://t.co/5Sw5VdXD31

—
Greg
Abbott
(@GregAbbott_TX)

February
24,
2025

Duncan’s
attempt
to
forge
a
new
explanation
of
the
Establishment
Clause
follows
the
familiar
pattern
of
selectively
citing
secondary
source
quasi-history.
It’s
becoming

a
cottage
industry
for
conservative
former
law
clerks,
without
training
in
the
historical
method,
to
compile
a
string
of
historical
factoids
into
an
article,
publish
it
in
some
student-edited
journal,
and
then
watch
judges
run
with
it
as
though
it’s
historical
scholarship
laying
out
a
definitive
account.

Which,
of
course,
invites
some
tension
when
the
real
historians
show
up
with
receipts.

The
correct
analysis,
as
the
Supreme
Court
has
explained,
is
to
ask
whether
a
challenged
law
shares
the
“hallmarks
of
religious
establishments
the
framers
sought
to
prohibit
when
they
adopted
the
First
Amendment.”
Kennedy,
597
U.S.
at
537;
see
also
Hilsenrath,
136
F.4th
at
491
n.54
(asking
whether
plaintiffs
have
“prov[en]
a
set
of

facts
that
would
have
historically
been
understood
as
an
establishment
of
religion”).

Emphasis
added.

The
district
court
allowed
expert
testimony
from
religious
scholars
and
historians,
a
prudent
decision
if
one
actually
believed
that
the
standard
involves
figuring
out
what
“would
have
historically
been
understood
as
an
establishment
of
religion.”
But
that
testimony
did
not
work
out
for
the
majority’s
preordained
outcome,
and
so
they
needed
Duncan
to
handwave
it
all
away.

What
the
founding
generation
understood
as
an
establishment
of
religion
is
a
legal
question
to
be
decided
by
a
court,
not
a
“fact”
question
to
be
decided
by
experts,
no
matter
how
credentialed.

This
is
a
mere

two
paragraphs
removed
from
the
quote
about
having
to
prove
“a
set
of
facts.”
Beyond
parody.

So
how
can
the
majority
navigate
this
hybrid
not-a-fact-set-of-facts?
As
always,
“JD
Hubris”
comes
to
the
rescue.
For
once
you
have
a
law
degree,
you
can
be
an
expert
in
every
subject!
Indeed,
your
law
school
education
makes
you
even
more
of
an
expert
than
someone
who
devoted
their
entire
professional
career
to
a
subject.

[Judges]
do
so
by
consulting
articles,
books,
and
historical
sources
and
bringing
their
own
independent
judgment
to
bear
on
them—not
by
appointing
an
“expert,”
whose
“findings”
are
insulated
by
clear-error
review
on
appeal.

It’s
the
“IvE
dOnE
mY
oWn
ReSeArCh”
meme
made
flesh.

But,
in
fairness
to
Duncan,
without
committing
the
air
quotes
to
print,
this
sentence
might
read
as
a
serious
person’s
analysis.
We
would
be
remiss
not
to
thank
him
for
being
honest.

Of
course,
he’s
unintentionally
hit
on
the
problem
with
originalism.
In
the
effort
to
disguise
that
they’re
just
reverse
engineering
decisions
to
match
their
policy
priorities,
they
contrived
a
factual
basis
for
their
whole
interpretive
project.
By
dressing
it
up
this
way,
they
tried
to
cynically
borrow
legitimacy
by
claiming
their
philosophy
was
“fact,”
but
they
never
had
a
plan
to
deal
with
the
reality
that
factual
questions
invite
the
need
for
historians
who
practice
with
the
sort
of
intellectual
rigor
that
eludes
Duncan.

This
is
where
he
should
retreat
to
some
sort
of
neo-textualism
and
try
to
argue
—
somehow
—
that
a
state
law
forcing
public
schools
to
display
the
Ten
Commandments
does
not
amount
to
an
official
expression
of
religion.
Instead,
he
tries
to
square-peg-round-hole
reject
the
factual
record
in
a
case
about…

a
set
of
facts.

Plaintiffs
would
rely
on
this
practice
to
resolve
“fact
issues”
about
the
Ten
Commandments’
role
in
American
history.
But
they
confuse
the
kind
of
facts
experts
can
help
determine
(so-called
“adjudicative
facts”)
from
facts
that
are
decided
by
courts
(so-called
“legislative
facts”).
See,
e.g.,
Moore
v.
Madigan,
702
F.3d
933,
942
(7th
Cir.
2012)
(distinguishing
“‘legislative
facts,’
which
.
.
.
bear
on
the
justification
for
legislation,
as
distinct
from
facts
concerning
the
conduct
of
parties
in
a
particular
case
(‘adjudicative
facts’)”
(citing
Fed.
R.
Evid.
201(a))).
As
Judge
Posner
has
explained,
“Only
adjudicative
facts
are
determined
in
trials,
and
only
legislative
facts
are
relevant
to
the
constitutionality
of
[a
challenged
law].”

I
am
once
again
begging
Fifth
Circuit
judges
to
ACTUALLY
READ
THE
CASES
THEY
CITE.
This
came
up
in

Rahimi,
when
Judge
Ho
wrote
a
concurrence
citing
a
pair
of
cases
that

actually
concluded
the
opposite
way.

Here,
Duncan
cites
Judge
Posner
—
hoping
to
bask
in
the
borrowed
glory
of
a
respected
jurist
—
to
categorize
the
historical
record
as
“legislative
facts,”
which,
despite
the
name,
pose
a
question
of
law
and
not
fact.

Except,
that’s
not
what
Posner’s
decision
says.

Moore
v.
Madigan
challenged
an
Illinois
gun
regulation.
Writing
for
the
majority,
Judge
Posner
made
two
separate
conclusions.
Regarding
history,
Posner
wrote
that
the
Seventh
Circuit
could
not
relitigate
the
history
of
the
Second
Amendment
in
light
of

Heller
and

McDonald
—
for
better
or
worse.
“The
Supreme
Court
rejected
the
argument,”
Posner
wrote.
“The
appellees
ask
us
to
repudiate
the
Court’s
historical
analysis.
That
we
can’t
do.”
Posner
does
not
dismiss
the
analysis
of
expert
historians
as
improper
—
he
writes
that
the
matter
is
settled
above
his
pay
grade.

So
what
are
“legislative
facts?”
After
establishing
that
the
Seventh
Circuit
would
not
revisit
the
historical
underpinnings
of
the
Second
Amendment,
Posner’s
opinion
concludes
that
there’s
no
further
evidentiary
issue
for
a
trial
court
to
determine,
because
“The
key
legislative
facts
in
this
case
are
the
effects
of
the
Illinois
law;
the
state
has
failed
to
show
that
those
effects
are
positive.”
Continuing,
Judge
Posner
explains
that,
“Illinois
had
to
provide
us
with
more
than
merely
a
rational
basis
for
believing
that
its
uniquely
sweeping
ban
is
justified
by
an
increase
in
public
safety.
It
has
failed
to
meet
this
burden.”

Note
how
the
“legislative
facts”
were

not
the
history
of
the
right.

The
generous
reading
of
Duncan
invoking

Moore
v.
Madigan
is
that
he’s
just
trying
to
bootstrap
history
onto
this
convenient
category
of
non-fact-facts.
But
to
do
that
requires
characterizing
the
relevant
historical
issue
as
an
assessment
of
the
Framers’
legislative
intent.
But
true
originalists
have
spent
years
telling
us
that
legislative
intent
is
the
wrong
inquiry,
instead
elevating
“original
public
meaning”
or
a
more
vague
concept
of
“history
and
tradition.”
And
they
did
this
for
good
reason:
legislative
intent
narrows
the
paper
trail
too
much.
Expanding
the
historical
inquiry
to
the
public
at
large
makes
it
a
lot
easier
to
cherry
pick
historical
nuggets
from
long-forgotten
pamphleteers
and
sepia-toned
newspapers.

The
downside
is
that
it
requires
judges
to
treat
history
the
way

Richard
Epstein
treats
epidemiology
—
by
declaring,
based
on
pure
legal
intuition,
that
COVID
wouldn’t
kill
more
than
500
people.
Pinning
the
law
to
history
was
supposed
to
provide
a
veneer
of
credibility.
Telling
the
public
that
judges
will
“bring[]
their
own
independent
judgment
to
bear”
on
writing,
or
rewriting,
history
throws
that
out
the
window.
It
is
an
empty
husk
at
that
point,
stripped
of
its
already
flimsy
faux
intellectual
justifications.

(Full
opinion
on
the
next
page…)

---

Joe
Patrice is
a
senior
editor
at
Above
the
Law
and
co-host
of

Thinking
Like
A
Lawyer.
Feel
free
to email
any
tips,
questions,
or
comments.
Follow
him
on Twitter or

Bluesky
if
you’re
interested
in
law,
politics,
and
a
healthy
dose
of
college
sports
news.
Joe
also
serves
as
a

Managing
Director
at
RPN
Executive
Search.

We
are
all
addicts
of
one
kind
or
another.
Whether
it’s
addiction
to
work,
alcohol,
drugs,
sex,
or
something
or
someone,
we
don’t
seem
to
be
able
to
relinquish
whatever
or
whoever
it
is
that
has
us
in
its
grasp.
Social
media
has
already
done
that.
Stories
are
replete
with
lawyers
and
judges
who
don’t
STFU
on
social
media
and
get
themselves
into
a
pack
of
trouble
with
disciplinary
agencies.

Did
you
know
that
there
is

a
12-step
program
for
media
addicts?
This
is
in
addition
to
Alcoholics
Anonymous,
Narcotics
Anonymous,
Overeaters
Anonymous,
Gamblers
Anonymous,
and
other
programs
where
the
goal
is
to
wean
users
off
bad
habits.
Media
Addicts
Anonymous
is
a
12-step
program
for
those
who
are
addicted
to
technology
and
social
media.
(I
am
not
making
this
up.) 

Social
media
addiction
is
indeed
an
addiction.
A
recent
Los
Angeles
Superior
Court
jury
said
so,
finding
Meta
and
YouTube
created
products
as
addictive
as
cigarettes
or
digital
casinos.
It

awarded
the
plaintiff,
who
had
claimed
anxiety
and
depression,
$6
million.
The
jury’s
verdict
validates
a
new
legal
theory:
social
media
sites
and
apps
can
cause
personal
injury.
The
defendants
will
appeal,
while
a
number
of
other
cases,
alleging
the
same
or
similar
theories,
are
set
for
trial. 

So,
given
that
there
has
been,
at
least
at
the
trial
court
level
here
in
California,
a
finding
that
social
media
addiction
is
alive
and
well
in
the
land,
it’s
not
surprising
that
there
is
a
support
group
for
social
media
addicts.
Media
Addicts
Anonymous
brands
itself
as
the
“12
step
recovery
from
the
compulsive
use
of
all
media.”
Its
purpose
is
“to
support
all
forms
of
media
sobriety,
including
abstinence
from
electronic
media,
films,
radio,
newspapers,
magazines,
books,
and
music.”
I
am
not
suggesting
abstinence
from
all
forms
of
media,
but
I
am
suggesting
that
it
wouldn’t
hurt
to
refrain
from
social
media
usage
to
the
extent
that
it
has
negatively
impacted
careers
of
lawyers
and
judges.

A
variety
of
missteps
have
landed
both
attorneys
and
judges
in
disciplinary
penalty
boxes.
The
question
is
always
“what
were
they
thinking?”
The
answer
is
obvious.

Rather
than
calling
out
individuals,
a
little
refresher
on
what
kind
of
topics
on
social
media
can
land
them
in
hot
water:

How
about
violating
ethical
rules
of
client
confidentiality?
What
about
nasty,
rude,
and
unbecoming
conduct
in
social
media
posts?
What
about
making
prejudicial
comments?
Asking
attorneys
who
appear
before
you
to
become
Facebook
friends?
What
about
posting
opinions 
about
cases
in
progress?
What
about
commenting
about
the
conduct
of
lawyers,
the
judge,
jury
members,
and
witnesses?
What
about,
despite
pointed
instructions
to
the
contrary,
jurors
using
social
media
to
do
their
own
investigations?
What
about
taking
to
social
media
to
criticize
taken/not
taken
by
trial
counsel?
The
list
goes
on
and
on.

Where
are
their
brains
when
lawyers
and
judges
post
on
social
media
without
thinking
it
through?
Trying
to
explain,
justify,
or
otherwise
educate
on
social
media
is
a
time
waster,
creating
enormous
and
unneeded
blowback.
How
about
making
every
lawyer
who
wants
to
save
his
professional
license
and
every
judge
who
doesn’t
want
to
get
booted
off
the
court
to
enroll
and
finish
a
social
media
addiction
12-step
program? 

The
Media
Addicts
Anonymous
website
has
some
diagnostic
tools
to
determine
whether
you
are
at
risk
or
already
addicted.
Signs
of
media
addiction
include
anxiety,
isolation,
procrastination,
inability
to
prioritize,
boredom
with
routine
tasks,
and
chronic
lateness.
There
are
other
signs.
Many
of
these
aren’t
necessarily
media
addiction
but
can
be
considered
part
of
the
life
of
a
lawyer
or
bench
officer.
We’ve
all
experienced
some
or
all
of
these
during
various
times
in
our
careers.
But
when
any
of
these
factors
become
excessive,
then
it
may
be
beyond
just
a
habit.

Remember
the
public
service
announcement
about
drugs
and

your
brain
on
drugs?
There’s
evidence
that
a
media
addiction
is
similar
to
alcohol
or
drug
dependency
and

changes
the
brain’s
prefrontal
cortex,
which
is
responsible
for
decision-making
and
social
behavior.

Back
in
1972,
before
smartphones
and
even
cellphones,
there
was
a
hilarious,
almost
prescient
scene
in
the
Woody
Allen
movie,
“Play
It
Again,
Sam.”

Dick:
[On
the
phone]
“Let
me
tell
you
where
you
can
reach
me,
George.
I’ll
be
at
362-9296
for
a
while;
then
I’ll
be
at
648-0024
for
about
15
minutes;
then
I’ll
be
at
752-0420;
and
then
I’ll
be
home,
at
621-4598.
Yeah,
right
George,
bye-bye.”

“Linda:
There’s
a
phone
booth
on
the
corner.
You
want
me
to
run
downstairs
and
get
the
number?
You’ll
be
passing
it.”

We
all
know,
unless
we’ve
been
oblivious
over
the
past
few
decades,
that
alcohol
and
drug
addictions
have
infected
our
profession.
Is
it
time
to
add
social
media
addiction
to
the
list
of behavioral
issues
we
should
be
concerned
about?
Will
AI
addiction
be
next?

---

Jill
Switzer
has
been
an
active
member
of
the
State
Bar
of
California
for
over
40
years.
She
remembers
practicing
law
in
a
kinder,
gentler
time.
She’s
had
a
diverse
legal
career,
including
stints
as
a
deputy
district
attorney,
a
solo
practice,
and
several
senior
in-house
gigs.
She
now
mediates
full-time,
which
gives
her
the
opportunity
to
see
dinosaurs,
millennials,
and
those
in-between
interact
—
it’s
not
always
civil.
You
can
reach
her
by
email
at [email protected].

The AI
for
Lawyer
Moms webinar
has
wrapped,
but
you
can
still
access
the
full
90-minute
session
and
accompanying
materials.

If
you
missed
it
live,
this
is
a
chance
to
see
how
AI
can
support
your
real
legal
work
in
a
practical,
usable
way.

👉Sign
Up
Here

When
you
sign
up
for
the
replay,
you’ll
also
receive
a
exclusive
discount
offer
for
the
next
step:

⚖️ AI
for
Lawyers:
A
Hands-On
Cohort

24
attorneys
·
Three Fridays in
May
2-4
pm
ET.
 
All
sessions
recorded

Here’s
what
it
looks
like
when
this
clicks:

You
open
a
matter
and
Claude
already
knows
how
to
work
it.
Your
client
emails
go
out
faster—and
better.
Your
briefs,
research,
and
marketing
all
move
in
your
voice,
without
starting
from
scratch.

You’re
not
working
more.
You’re
producing
more—and
better.

The
Program

May
1
—
Skills
&
Setup 🧰
Configure
Claude
for
your
actual
practice.
Build
custom
skills
together
and
leave
with
a
shared
library
created
across
the
cohort.

May
8
—
Projects
&
Brand
Voice 📣
Structure
matters
as
projects.
Lock
in
your
voice
so
your
content
sounds
like
you—not
a
machine.

May
15
—
Automation ⚙️
Schedulers,
connectors,
and
workflows
that
keep
working
after
you
log
off.

What
You’ll
Walk
Away
With 👣

• Custom
  skills
  tailored
  to
  your
  practice
• Live
  projects
  built
  on
  real
  matters
• A
  defined
  brand
  voice
  for
  content
  and
  communication
• Automations
  handling
  repetitive
  tasks
• SOPs
  you
  can
  reuse,
  delegate,
  and
  scale
• A
  network
  of
  attorneys
  working
  alongside
  you

This
Is
For
You
If

You
do
serious
legal
work
and
want
AI
to
make
it
faster
and
better—not
just
cheaper—and
you’re
willing
to
build
something
usable
over
three
focused
sessions.

This
is
not
a
passive
training
or
a
one-off
demo.
It’s
working
sessions
where
you
leave
with
systems
in
place.

Real
estate
law
sits
at
the
intersection
of
contracts,
finance,
tax,
and
regulatory
compliance,
making
it
one
of
the
most
practical
and
quietly
influential
areas
of
practice.
Whether
you
end
up
in
Biglaw,
a
boutique
shop,
or
hanging
your
own
shingle,
understanding
how
real
estate
transactions
work
—
from
due
diligence
to
closing
—
isn’t
just
a
niche
skill,
it’s
a
career
advantage.
Because
at
the
end
of
the
day,
someone
has
to
turn
all
that
legal
theory
into
signed
documents,
transferred
assets,
and
actual
dollars
changing
hands.

The National
Jurist’s
preLaw
magazine recently
released
its
specialty
ranking
of
the
best
law
schools
for
real
estate
on
its
Real
Estate
Law
Honor
Roll,
highlighting
schools
for
the
strength
of
their
programs.
Here’s
the
methodology
that
was
used:

preLaw
magazine
grades
law
schools
based
on
the
breadth
of
their
curricular
offerings.
The
scores
are
figured
as
follows:
30%
for
a
concentration,
24%
for
a
clinic,
12%
for
a
center,
12%
for
an
externship,
9%
for
a
journal,
8%
for
a
student
group,
5%
for
a
certificate
and
added
value
for
additional
offerings.

Without
further
ado,
according
to
preLaw
magazine,
these
are
the
law
schools
that
earned
A+,
A,
and
A-
grades
for
their
real
estate
law
programs:

• Brooklyn
  Law
  School
  (A+)
• University
  of
  Miami
  (A+)
• New
  York
  Law
  School
  (A)
• Cardozo
  School
  of
  Law
  (A-)

Click here to
see
the
rest
of
the
Honor
Roll.

Congratulations
to
all
of
the
law
schools
that
made
the
cut
for
this
important
ranking.

Top
law
schools
for
real
estate
law [preLaw
Magazine
/
National
Jurist]

---

Staci
Zaretsky is
the
managing
editor
of
Above
the
Law,
where
she’s
worked
since
2011.
She’d
love
to
hear
from
you,
so
please
feel
free
to email her
with
any
tips,
questions,
comments,
or
critiques.
You
can
follow
her
on Bluesky, X/Twitter,
and Threads, or
connect
with
her
on LinkedIn.

AI
is
not
waiting
for
the
legal
profession
to
get
comfortable.
It
is
moving
fast,
getting
better,
and
reaching
deeper
into
the
work
lawyers
do
every
day.
It
now
helps
with
drafting,
summarizing,
contract
review,
research
support,
document
analysis,
workflow
management,
and
client
service.
It
is
already
part
of
the
practice
whether
lawyers
welcome
it
or
not.

That
creates
the
question
many
lawyers
ask
in
private.
How
far
does
this
go
before
it
starts
to
replace
us.
Not
just
help
us.
Not
just
speed
us
up.
Replace
us.
The
honest
answer
is
that
AI
will
replace
some
tasks,
reshape
many
roles,
and
change
how
legal
services
get
delivered,
but
it
is
far
less
likely
to
replace
the
full
lawyer
function
where
judgment,
strategy,
persuasion,
and
accountability
still
drive
value.

The
easy
prediction
is
that
AI
will
keep
getting
better
at
the
parts
of
legal
work
that
are
structured,
repeatable,
text
heavy,
and
pattern
based.
That
includes
first
drafts,
issue
spotting,
summarizing
records,
comparing
contracts,
organizing
timelines,
flagging
anomalies,
and
generating
alternative
arguments.
That
progress
will
not
slow
down.
The
tools
will
become
faster,
cheaper,
more
integrated,
and
more
natural
to
use.

That
matters
because
for
years
many
lawyers
assumed
AI
would
only
affect
routine
junior
work.
That
view
now
feels
too
narrow.
AI
is
already
moving
beyond
basic
document
tasks
and
into
work
that
requires
more
nuance,
more
comparison,
and
more
legal
framing.
It
is
climbing
the
ladder
faster
than
many
expected.

So
yes,
some
parts
of
law
practice
will
get
displaced.
The
work
most
at
risk
will
be
the
work
clients
see
as
process,
not
judgment.
If
the
task
involves
sorting,
extracting,
summarizing,
classifying,
redlining,
or
producing
a
solid
first
pass
from
known
inputs,
AI
will
continue
to
close
ground.
That
pressure
will
affect
staffing
models,
training
paths,
billing
structures,
and
client
expectations.

But
law
is
not
only
about
producing
text.
It
is
about
deciding
what
matters.
It
is
about
choosing
what
to
say,
what
to
leave
out,
what
risk
to
take,
what
theme
will
carry
the
day,
what
fact
changes
the
case,
what
witness
will
persuade
the
jury,
what
judge
will
respond
to
a
certain
argument,
and
what
settlement
posture
fits
the
moment.
Those
choices
depend
on
context,
timing,
instinct,
human
behavior,
and
consequences
that
go
well
beyond
the
page.

That
is
why
the
right
way
to
think
about
replacement
is
not
lawyer
versus
machine.
It
is
task
versus
function.
AI
can
replace
parts
of
the
task
stack.
It
can
do
that
in
ways
that
surprise
us.
But
the
lawyer’s
function
remains
broader.
The
lawyer
bears
responsibility.
The
lawyer
owes
duties
to
the
client.
The
lawyer
must
protect
confidences,
supervise
the
work,
communicate
clearly,
and
stand
behind
the
advice.
The
machine
does
none
of
that.

Still,
there
is
a
real
danger
here,
and
it
is
not
only
job
loss.
It
is
cognitive
atrophy.
If
lawyers
rely
on
AI
to
do
the
first
read,
the
first
draft,
the
first
outline,
the
first
strategy
pass,
and
the
first
challenge
to
their
own
position,
they
may
slowly
stop
building
the
mental
muscles
that
made
them
good
in
the
first
place.
That
risk
is
especially
acute
for
younger
lawyers
who
may
mistake
fluent
output
for
sound
reasoning.

That
problem
goes
deeper
than
fake
citations
or
wrong
cases.
The
deeper
concern
is
that
lawyers
may
stop
seeing
what
is
missing.
They
may
stop
testing
assumptions.
They
may
stop
asking
the
next
hard
question.
They
may
stop
struggling
with
the
facts
long
enough
to
find
the
insight
that
actually
matters.
And
in
law,
the
struggle
often
produces
the
strategy.

So
where
is
this
headed
over
the
next
few
years?
The
next
major
step
is
not
just
better
chat.
It
is
AI
that
can
carry
out
sequences
of
work
across
tools,
files,
and
decision
points.
In
plain
English,
that
means
systems
that
do
not
merely
answer
prompts
but
perform
parts
of
a
workflow.
They
will
gather
documents,
summarize
them,
compare
them
to
prior
work,
flag
missing
support,
draft
a
first
product,
and
route
it
for
review.

Once
that
happens
at
scale,
the
profession
will
feel
real
pressure.
Firms
that
treat
AI
as
a
novelty
will
lose
time
and
ground.
Firms
that
treat
it
as
magic
will
create
risk.
The
firms
that
win
will
likely
be
the
ones
that
redesign
work
with
discipline.
They
will
identify
the
right
tasks,
build
review
layers,
test
the
tools,
train
their
lawyers,
and
set
clear
limits
on
what
the
machine
can
do
alone.

Will
there
be
a
point
where
we
need
to
prevent
AI
from
supplanting
us?
In
part,
that
question
answers
itself.
The
profession
already
has
brakes
built
in.
Ethics,
client
duties,
malpractice
exposure,
court
scrutiny,
confidentiality
concerns,
and
the
need
for
accountable
advice
all
slow
full
substitution.
Those
limits
are
not
anti-innovation.
They
reflect
the
fact
that
legal
work
carries
real
consequences
for
real
people
and
businesses.

The
stronger
brake,
though,
may
be
practical
rather
than
regulatory.
Clients
hire
lawyers
in
hard
moments.
They
want
judgment
under
uncertainty.
They
want
a
counselor
who
can
absorb
risk,
weigh
business
realities,
read
people,
negotiate
under
pressure,
and
own
the
recommendation.
AI
may
inform
that
work.
It
may
sharpen
that
work.
It
may
outperform
many
lawyers
on
narrow
slices
of
that
work.
But
replacing
the
full
human
role
requires
trust,
accountability,
and
relational
authority
that
technology
still
does
not
carry
on
its
own.

That
does
not
mean
lawyers
should
feel
safe.
It
means
they
should
feel
challenged.
The
profession
will
likely
divide
between
lawyers
who
use
AI
to
extend
judgment
and
lawyers
who
let
AI
flatten
them
into
commodity
reviewers
of
machine
output.
The
first
group
will
rise.
The
second
group
will
struggle.
The
market
will
not
reward
lawyers
for
doing
slowly
what
a
platform
can
do
quickly.
It
will
reward
lawyers
who
know
where
the
machine
helps,
where
it
fails,
and
how
to
turn
speed
into
better
strategy
and
better
service.

Senior
lawyers
need
to
lead
this
shift.
They
know
what
good
work
looks
like.
They
know
when
a
theory
will
work
and
when
it
will
fail.
They
know
that
the
first
AI
output
often
lands
at
50,
60,
or
80
percent
of
what
they
want,
and
that
starting
there
instead
of
at
zero
can
still
be
a
huge
win.
They
also
know
that
bad
instincts
wrapped
in
polished
prose
are
still
bad
instincts.
That
mix
of
patience
and
judgment
is
exactly
what
firms
need
now.

This
is
not
the
moment
for
senior
lawyers
to
stand
back.
It
is
the
moment
for
them
to
teach
younger
lawyers
how
to
use
AI
without
giving
away
the
craft.
That
means
showing
them
how
to
think
before
they
prompt,
how
to
frame
the
issue,
how
to
test
the
answer,
how
to
rewrite
the
output,
and
how
to
separate
helpful
assistance
from
false
confidence.
Senior
lawyers
have
seen
enough
bad
facts,
weak
arguments,
and
failed
strategies
to
know
that
judgment
rarely
comes
from
convenience.

Law
schools
and
firms
should
respond
the
same
way.
Teach
lawyers
to
think
before
they
generate.
Make
them
outline
before
they
draft.
Make
them
compare
their
own
reasoning
to
the
machine’s
reasoning.
Make
them
explain
the
differences.
AI
should
not
end
legal
thinking.
It
should
reveal
whether
legal
thinking
was
ever
strong
enough
to
begin
with.

So
what
does
replacement
look
like
if
it
comes?
It
will
not
begin
with
robots
taking
over
courtrooms
in
one
dramatic
sweep.
It
will
look
quieter
than
that.
Fewer
hours
on
first
drafts.
Leaner
teams
on
routine
matters.
Smaller
classes
of
junior
lawyers
doing
old
style
grind
work.
More
pressure
on
lawyers
whose
value
rests
only
on
information
retrieval
or
document
production.
More
clients
resisting
payment
for
work
that
AI
now
handles
faster.

But
full
supplanting
is
a
different
claim.
For
the
foreseeable
future,
the
lawyer
who
can
reason,
persuade,
counsel,
supervise,
and
own
the
decision
will
still
matter.
The
profession
may
change
shape.
Some
roles
may
shrink.
New
roles
will
emerge.
The
safest
position
is
not
denial.
It
is
adaptation
with
discipline.

Use
AI
hard.
Learn
it
well.
Build
around
it.
But
do
not
give
it
the
one
thing
clients
still
need
most
when
the
stakes
are
real.
Judgment.
That
is
the
line
we
cannot
cross.
That
is
the
line
that
will
define
whether
AI
strengthens
the
profession
or
slowly
hollows
it
out
from
within.

---

Frank
Ramos
is
a
partner
at
Goldberg
Segalla
in
Miami,
where
he
practices
commercial
litigation,
products,
and
catastrophic
personal
injury. You
can
follow
him
on LinkedIn,
where
he
has
about
80,000
followers.

The
U.S.
Department
of
Justice
is
seeing
numerous
trends
of
fraud
in
the
Affordable
Care
Act
Marketplace
targeting
vulnerable
populations.
At
the

Medicarians
Conference
in
Las
Vegas
on
Monday,
an
official
discussed
how
the
DOJ
is
tackling
this
fraud.

One
example
of
fraud
is
attacking
individuals
who
are
homeless,
unemployed,
dealing
with
mental
health
issues
or
battling
substance
use
disorders,
according
to
Ricardo
Carcas,
assistant
special
agent
in
charge
of
the
Office
of
Investigations.
These
people
are
often
covered
by
Medicaid,
and
they’re
being
targeted
by
what
Carcas
referred
to
as
“street
marketers.” 

These
marketers
falsify
information
to
get
Medicaid
coverage
denied,
then
use
that
denial
to
open
a
Special
Enrollment
Period
and
falsify
income
to
move
people
into
subsidized
ACA
marketplace
plans
with
the
fraudsters
as
agents
of
record.
When
they’re
an
agent
of
record,
they
have
“control
over
that
individual
for
about
a
year
period,”
Carcas
said.

“Throughout
that
year
that
they
are
the
agent
of
record,
they
are
now
changing
these
individuals’
health
plans
on
a
daily,
weekly
and
monthly
basis,
generating
commissions
every
time
that
they
enroll
in
a
new
plan,”
he
stated.
“Obviously,
it’s
a
huge
issue,
because
all
of
this
is
done
without
consent.
These
individuals
have
no
idea
that
their
policies
are
being
changed
on
a
daily,
weekly
and
monthly
basis.”

This
leads
to
care
being
disrupted
and
oftentimes
not
being
covered
due
to
changes
in
insurance.
It
then
affects
access
to
medications
for
mental
health,
opioid
addiction
and
HIV,
as
these
individuals
are
now
“incurring
a
cost
that
they
can’t
afford,”
Carcas
said.

There
are
also
other
examples
of
fraud,
including
people
using
AI
to
deceptively
market
ACA
plans,
he
added.

To
combat
fraud,
the
administration
has
the
Crushing
Fraud,
Waste
and
Abuse
initiative,
which
is
aimed
at
preventing
fraud
in
Medicare,
Medicaid,
the
Children’s
Health
Insurance
Program
and
the
Health
Insurance
Marketplace.
Carcas
noted
that
fraud
in
the
ACA
Marketplace
is
just
part
of
the
problem,
as
traditional
Medicare
is
a
major
focus
for
the
administration
as
well.

He
noted
that
the
administration
has
been
very
“aggressive”
in
targeting
the
bad
actors,
giving
the
example
of
some
individuals
who
were
just
convicted
and
sentenced
to
30
years
in
jail
for
fraudulent
activity.

“There
is
a
price
to
pay
if
you
are
committing
these
crimes,”
he
said.
“Obviously,
we
do
our
due
diligence,
and
we’re
very
methodical
with
our
cases,
and
we
build
these
cases
up
so
when
we
go
to
trial,
we
want
to
make
sure
that
we
have
a
very
high
success
conviction
rate.
Right
now,
we’re
trying
to
get
to
100%.”

Carcas
added
that
people
can
report
fraud,
waste
and
abuse
on
the

Office
of
Inspector
General
website,
and
there
is
also
a
section
for
whistleblowers.

“There
are
only
so
many
of
us,”
he
said.
“There’s
a
lot
more
of
the
bad
actors.
It’s
an
issue
that
we’re
not
going
to
be
able
to
mitigate
ourselves.
…
We
gotta
help
each
other
out
when
it
comes
to
this.”

Photo:
Feodora
Chiosea,
Getty
Images