Band 24, Heft 1

There is something missing in existing discussions of domination. While republican theory, antisubordination theory, and critical legal theory each have contributed significantly to our understanding of domination, their focus on structural relationships and group subordination can leave out of focus the individual wrongs that make up domination, each of which is an unjustified exercise of power by one person over another. Private law (supported by private law theory) plays an important role in filling out our pictures of domination and the role of the state in limiting it. Private law allows us to recognize domination in wrongs by one person against another, and it has the potential to articulate the state-enforced boundaries on domination as well as a framework for thinking through inevitable compromises between the aspiration to nondomination and other basic interests of a liberal state. We can understand employment law as continuous with private law, that is, attempting to vindicate a nondomination principle in the context of employment by regulating specific acts of employers. Alternatively, we might understand employment relationships to define group membership, commonly recognized along class lines. In that case, employment law is not about individual nondomination but about mitigating class subordination. It might do this in service of the antisubordination principle, or in order to ensure that employees are capable and ready to exercise the responsibilities of democratic citizenship. While these various purposes largely coincide, there are points of normative divergence which sometimes require that we prioritize one or other function of employment law over the others.

This Article explores the idea that the moral standards of relational or interpersonal justice can be used to lay the foundations for a theory of justice in work, rather than relying on principles of justice developed for society as a whole in philosophical theories of distributive justice. It is argued that a rich and distinctive scheme of interpersonal justice can be developed by using a method of internal critique and by focusing on two distinctive features of contracts of employment. Because they are incomplete by design, like other relational contracts, contracts of employment depend for their success on a broad obligation of performance in good faith. Contracts of employment also usually function within organizations which provide the source of customary norms of associational justice that govern relations between members of the firm. These principles of associational justice include rewards based on desert, a strong egalitarian principle, protection from unjustified exclusion, and a right to have a voice in the affairs and the direction of the organization.

Contract and employment law have grown apart. Long ago, each side gave up on the other. In this Article, we reunite them to the betterment of both. In brief, we demonstrate the emancipatory potential of contract for the law of work. Today, the dominant contract theories assume a widget transaction between substantively equal parties. If this were an accurate description of what contract is, then contract law would be right to expel workers. Worker protections would indeed be better regulated by—and relegated to—employment and labor law. But contract law is not what contract theorists claim. Neither is contract law what the dominant employment theorists fear—a domain that necessarily misses the constitutive place of work in people’s life-plans and overlooks the systemic vulnerability of workers to their employers. Contract, we contend, is not work law’s canonical “other.” Rightly understood, contract is an autonomy-enhancing device, one founded on the fundamental liberal commitment of reciprocal respect for self-determination. From this “choice theory” perspective, the presumed opposition between employment and contract law dissolves. We show that many employment law doctrines are not external to contract, but are instead entailed in liberal contract itself. Grounding worker protections in contract theory has two salutary effects. First, it offers workers more secure protection than that afforded by their reliance on momentary public-law compromises. Second, it reveals contract’s emancipatory potential for all of us—not just as workers, but also as widget buyers. Contract can empower, and employment can show the way.

Tort law does many things—it determines substantive rights, decides what counts as violating these rights, recognizes rights of repair, and grants rights of redress. Two non-instrumentalist conceptions of tort law appear to dominate how we are supposed to understand and discharge these tasks. One conception takes tort law to be the law of wrongs, whereas the other conception identifies tort law with the law of victim recourse. I argue that both conceptions (including a combination of both) mischaracterize what tort law does and what it should be doing. By contrast, the conception I shall defend—viz., the conflict theory of tort law—takes the basic task of tort law to be identifying the value of the conflict to which it responds (or which it shapes). In fact, there are three types of conflicts: inherently valuable, tolerably valuable, and valueless. Each type of conflict calls for a qualitatively different response by the law of torts. The conflict theory, I argue, changes the way we understand and determine the rights, duties, liabilities, and remedies that arise in and around tort law. I demonstrate this claim in connection with the tort of battery and then extend the analysis to capture the tort law of workplace and, in particular, trespass law as it applies to nonconsensual access to the workplace by organizers and by workers.

In this Article, I contest on both theoretical and empirical grounds the progressive agenda, as represented by Hanoch Dagan, that seeks to advance the unionization movement in the name of individual autonomy and property. Theoretically, the Article shows that the common-law account of autonomy, which stresses freedom of action from external constraints involving the use or threat of force, provides the best analytical framework, one that undermines the modern progressive case for collective bargaining by workers. The negative account of autonomy applies to all persons; its correlative duties are simple. It applies regardless of the overall level or distribution of wealth. It is scalable from small to large societies. And it forces employers to respect the full range of material and psychological needs in order to recruit and retain their workers. In contrast, the modern progressive alternative imposes no clear correlative duties on employers. It has no obvious way to constrain the dominance of union forces. And its commands are sufficiently complex that they are often not understood by the workers whom they are intended to protect. Empirically, this Article shows that the institutional rigidity of union structures in dynamic markets fails; and it rejects the claim that individual workers are wedded to their current employer, given competitive forces that allow for rapid entry and exit. Given the long-term systematic advantages of the classical liberal model, it is no surprise that unions are generally in decline in major industrial societies.

This Article contrasts two views of the relationship between the fields of work law and private law. The “internal” view, propounded by Hanoch Dagan, would bring work law into the domain of private law by recentering the latter, including property law, around liberal values of reciprocal respect for autonomy. The “external” view locates the law of work in an overlapping but distinct domain that we might call “social law,” where it operates as a set of externally imposed conditions on the activity of employing others. When workers’ rights and interests come into conflict with those of owner-employers, the two views face off on the constitutional terrain of takings. In principle, the internal view might afford a better defense against takings challenges to laws that constrain property owners’ entitlements in the interest of those who work there, for it would redefine the former to reflect the latter. The external view relies more on takings law than property law to accommodate others’ interests when they conflict with traditional property rights. Unfortunately, the U.S. Supreme Court’s recent decision in Cedar Point Nurseries v. Hassid deals a heavy blow to both views. Its neo-Blackstonian conception of property rights rejects the notion that property law itself recognizes workers’ interests and entrenches that conception of property rights within the constitutional law of takings, sharpening the takings sword against social law’s regulation of property rights in the interest of others, including workers. Cedar Point thus underscores and magnifies the challenges that modern U.S. takings law, with its constitutional definition of property rights, poses to the advancement of workers’ rights, whether those are understood as internal or external to property law.

This Article uses a history of the push for job security in the United States during the late 20th century to assess New Private Law (NPL) theory. The history recounts the rise and fall of common law and statutory approaches to replacing at-will employment with termination for just cause only. Applying NPL theory to that history, the Article argues that NPL theorists’ current approach to defining their topic of study and distinguishing it from public law is inconsistent within and across theories. NPL theorists seek to carve out an area of law where interpersonal morality trumps legal economists’ goal of collective welfare maximization. That conceptual project depends on a coherent and consistent approach to distinguishing private from public law. Ultimately, the Article argues, NPL theorists face a more fundamental problem, however. Regardless of how one categorizes the events in this history, it shows that the common law-derived interpersonal morality at the heart of NPL theory may not strengthen worker protections in the ways at least some of its theorists hope.

This Article explores how managerial prerogative shapes disputes over employment classification and reveals a neglected but prominent feature in legal arguments about platform worker rights—the disputed relevance of a platform’s intellectual property rights. In classification disputes, instead of denying that it has a right to control how others perform services for it, the company often concedes its employer-like authority but offers an alternative rationale: managerial prerogative. The company argues, and judges often agree, that its labor control is not the exercise of employer authority but instead reflects a prerogative of enterprise ownership, like a right to protect property and determine product lines. Thus, managerial prerogative both explains labor control and exempts that control from the statutory duties that would otherwise attach under the legal tests. Platform companies appear to have taken notice of such cases and designed their work relationships around property-based rationales. For instance, Uber uses a software “license” in which drivers agree to Uber’s authority as a condition for accessing the app. The license depicts the terms upon which drivers must affirmatively cooperate with Uber to produce transportation as simply the negative duties not to interfere with Uber’s intellectual property. The Article concludes that we must reject appeals to managerial prerogative in employment classification disputes. To assume that a property-based rationale for labor control is inconsistent with employment is to misunderstand the legal basis of employment and the purpose of statutory labor law. The appeals also rely on dubious economic assumptions and conflate property rights with agreements about the use of property.

This Article argues that the duty of good faith in contractual performance offers powerful but neglected resources to empower workers to pursue their legitimate interests and resist mistreatment by employers. The duty of good faith creates a joint authority structure within contractual relationships, vesting co-contractors with equal and joint authority over the meaning, purposes, and, hence, the requirements of their contract. Implementing such an authority structure requires ensuring that the parties to a contract have the communicative space and epistemic resources they need to uncover and develop a common understanding of their contract. In the context of employment, such an authority structure would be transformative. It would require legal recognition of a variety of employee speech rights and protection from termination for reasonable and good faith refusals to perform work, and would offer a legal basis to challenge the scope and enforceability of at-will employment clauses. The duty of good faith could thus supply a common law foundation for rights and obligations commonly associated with labor law.