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November 24th 2004 • Printer version
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An Interview with Robert Tsai
Assistant professor Robert Tsai has been teaching for a short time
only two and a half years. Before joining the UO law faculty, he was an ACLU
litigator working on several controversial First, Fourth and Fourteenth
Amendment cases. TsaiÃs paper Fire, Metaphor and Constitutional
Myth-Making was presented to legal luminaries at the Stanford-Yale
Young Faculty Forum in New Haven, Conn. last June.
He graduated from
Yale Law School only seven years ago, so itÃs quite an accomplishment
to be recognized nationally for his constitutional scholarship so early
in the game.
In this interview with Oregon Lawyer, Tsai talks about metaphor and myth, Taiwan
and Port Townsend, learning and the law.
OL: Where did you grow up, and how early did you know legal scholarship was your
calling?
RT: I immigrated to the United States with my family from Taiwan.
We bopped around a bit in the Bahamas and Vancouver, B.C., before
gaining entry through the Port of Seattle, eventually settling in the
Victorian seaside town of Port Townsend, Washington.
My parents ran a cafe together for over 20 years. I am the first
person on my mother's side to attend college, must less pursue graduate
studies. My father was a refugee from mainland China who worked
himself out of poverty, attended university in Taiwan, and became a
judge. He gave that up so we could have a shot at a brighter life
in America. Indeed, he traded his black robe for a white
apron. My father knew nothing about cooking- - he had to learn
his new trade in a Seattle hotel restaurant. And, before the rest
of us had gained entry to the U.S., he would visit my mother, sister,
and me in Vancouver when he could get away.
I didn't really have a single transformative moment when the light bulb
came on and law became the only possibility for me. The only
thing I was reasonably sure of was that I wanted to become an educator
and scholar ó even early on, I wished to teach, to write, and to be
read.
Toward the end of my time at university I wavered between pursuing a
Ph.D. in history and a J.D. Once I was accepted by Yale's law program, it
became an easy choice since I was aware of the school's reputation as a
kind of graduate school of law and a training ground for
professors. We're very lucky that as law teachers we are able to
enter the academy "on the cheap," so to speak, often with a J.D. and a
few years of practice.
OL: You presented your paper one of only two in constitutional theory
at the high-profile Stanford-Yale Young Faculty Forum. And youÃre one
of the few scholars from a public school and the only one from a
Northwest law school this year. Tell us about the forum.
RT: The forum is intended to identify promising young scholars
in various fields, bring us together, and show us a thing or two about
scholarship at the highest levels. I'm told that this year there were
over 150 papers submitted overall from tenure track law faculty around
the country óthe most in the competition's history.
OL: Your paper has a fascinating title: Fire, Metaphor and
Constitutional Myth-Making. What is the connection between fire and the
Constitution?
RT: In my paper, I call the symbolic processes of law constitutional
myth-making. By that I mean the social process that generates potent
legal myths, metaphors, mantras and story
lines.
Legal doctrines, categories and rules make up the formal features of
lawmaking - but I argue that the symbolic processes play an
instrumental role in the creation of law as well. The
symbolic forms of law can either reinforce or unsettle existing legal
doctrine.
To illustrate my thesis, I trace fire-based language in the First
Amendment area over time. At the turn of the twentieth century,
when the First Amendment was more aspiration than reality,
fire-inspired metaphors facilitated government suppression of speech;
take the familiar example of Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes and a man
falsely shouting fire in a crowded theater."
American institutions had no use for more poetic pro-speech sayings
such as "eloquence may set fire to reason" - also by Holmes.
But in the post-war era, the anti-totalitarianism agenda and extended
period of economic prosperity facilitated the reconfiguration of the
myth of fire. Increasingly, we see fire and speech woven together
to promote expanded First Amendment liberties.
Whereas in the early era, speech is metaphorically described as
"sparks" threatening a wider conflagration, in our own time speech
regulation is more likely to be characterized as a "torch" endangering
our constitutional order. The part of the mythical firefighter, once
played by the government, is today more often played by the Court.
OL: You say your findings have good news and bad news for citizens and our
political system. What do you mean?
RT: As always, these developments offer good news and bad news.
The good news is that the results in legal rulings today are often
protective of speech, and metaphors and legal mantras generally are
useful to help ordinary people understand the intricacies of law.
The bad news is that today's fire-based legal discourse reflects a
dangerously court-centered understanding of our constitutional order -
what I call a juriscentric view of law.
OL: Juricentric- what do you mean by that?
RT: Not only are courts not the best placed to safeguard our rights,
but the hope that "the courts will save us" lets public officials off
the hook and could very well foster a climate in which more rights are
abridged.
I would say that my experience practicing law in the public interest
confirmed two hypotheses I held coming out of law school,
and these lessons inform my scholarship. The primary
point is that courts can only do so much to ensure liberty and
equality. I do not wish to be misunderstood as saying that courts
should stay on the sidelines, for there is much that can and should be
done within the judicial system.
There are many well-intentioned people who think that the courts are
the ultimate bulwark of our freedoms, that we should simply trust
judges to solve our problems. I am not one of them. Rather,
I believe that institutional cooperation, legal culture, and social
mobilization play far greater roles in ensuring liberty and equality
than anything that courts have ever done.
The second hypothesis confirmed during my time in law practice is that
legal change (like death and taxes) is the only thing we can bet on -
law is always on the verge of retrogression or progress.
Stability in law is a moment in time and a frame of mind, not a permanent state
of affairs.
OL: What will you be working on next?
RT: I am working on a book that explores the construction and
perpetuation of free speech culture in the United States. At the core
of the book are the ideas I presented in Fire, Metaphor and
Constitutional Myth-Making.
(fall 2004).
<> A more accessible version called Revolutionary Sparks was published
this fall in Legal Affairs magazine.
Two other articles related to the book project are now on the front
burner. I presented Constitutional Iconography in Chicago at the Law
and Society Association's Annual Meeting, which was organized around the 50th anniversary of Brown v. Board of
Education. Through the years, many have observed the similarities
between law and religion. Few, however, have explored the multiple ways
in which specific symbols are deployed by jurists and litigants to
create and sustain belief in the rule of law. The paper will be published in the
Iowa Law Review as "Sacred Visions of Law."
The second paper focuses on the importance of war imagery to First
Amendment thought. One might think that notions of war have
consistently had a speech-restrictive impact, but that's not so.
We have just as many pro-speech war images as we have pro-regulation
ones. I am very excited about this project, I think it is a
timely one, and I will soon have much more to say about it.
OL: The scholarly life clearly suits you but for those of us who are
prosecutors, public defenders, journalists, judges and investigators
whatÃs it like?
RT: Well, for me - writing scholarship is like struggling with a catchy
tune that pops in your head one day. Day after day, you whistle
it to yourself, walking down the hall, and when it's worked out, you
share it with friends and colleagues, who are hopefully delighted by
your cleverness.
If you are lucky, others may hum the tune a bit ó even those who hate
musicó and ask you whether it goes this way or that, and even to riff
off your jingle.
Someday, you might write a great magnum opus that others demand to be
performed. Critics love it or hate it, but must confront
it. And before you die - if you are lucky - your little tune has become a cacophonous
medley of overlapping wind instruments, strings, and percussion,
enriched by the occasional guest performances of colleagues.
At least that's what I'm after!
E.S. published November 2004. Robert Tsai was interviewed in June.
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