theintercept--2020-02-10--How the Supreme Court Could Gut Reproductive Rights Without Ruling on a Single Abortion Restriction

went so smoothly , and she and her husband were so enamored with their newborn son , that the couple decided to try for a second child as soon as possible .
They conceived easily — just as they had the first time around — but then Bindeman miscarried .
That reframed her thinking around pregnancy .
“ It wasn ’ t just , you get pregnant and have a baby , which had been my first experience , ” she said .
“ Well , you can get pregnant and not have a baby , and that can happen @ @ @ @ @ @ @ try again .
Bindeman was anxious during the first trimester , bracing for another miscarriage .
But that didn ’ t happen , and things seemed to be proceeding well .
Then , at the 20-week mark , they received devastating news after a routine ultrasound : The fetus ’ s brain was not developing properly .
If the fetus were to survive to term , it would never develop beyond a 2-month-old — it wouldn ’ t be able to walk , talk , or feed itself .
“ Our lives completely @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
After much conversation and reflection , and after consulting with their doctor , rabbi , and family , the Bindemans decided that they would terminate the pregnancy .
Even though the couple lives in Maryland , which has scant restrictions on abortion and a relative wealth of providers , the Bindemans faced obstacles .
Just weeks earlier , in the spring of 2009 , Dr. George Tiller , a world-renowned abortion provider based in Kansas who specialized in the type of later-term abortion that Julie Bindeman would need , had been assassinated @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
The killing sent a chill through providers across the nation .
As a result , the closest abortion provider the Bindemans could find was in New Jersey , meaning that Julie would have to travel hundreds of miles to a state where she knew no one .
That was unsettling , so in the end , she was forced to terminate her pregnancy in a local hospital via induced labor and delivery as opposed to the dilation and extraction method , which is safer , performed in a clinic , and used @ @ @ @ @ @ @ It was a painful and traumatic experience that took several days , and yet Bindeman still understood that she was fortunate : She had resources and connections and , even though Tiller ’ s murder had spooked local providers , she still lived in a state that respected her right to decide whether or not to continue her pregnancy .
Had Bindeman been living in another state — like Texas , Oklahoma , Mississippi , Missouri , or Alabama , among others — not only would she have had to deal with the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ wanted pregnancy , but she would also have been forced to navigate a hostile legal landscape rife with the kinds of abortion restrictions that have proliferated across a large swath of the country , including arbitrary waiting periods , coercive counseling requirements , and , importantly , gestational abortion bans at 20 weeks — or even earlier .
And , if the state of Louisiana gets its way in a lawsuit currently pending before the U.S. Supreme Court , women in Bindeman ’ s position living in hostile states could have an extra @ @ @ @ @ @ @ get access to the abortion services they need , they may personally have to challenge those restrictions in court .
Louisiana ’ s suit , which the court will consider during oral arguments on March 4 , threatens not only to undo decades of precedent allowing abortion providers to mount legal challenges on behalf of their prospective patients , but also dismantle a century of precedent in other kinds of cases in which plaintiffs similarly seek to vindicate the rights of third parties .
It is the latest salvo in the ongoing effort @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Without ever ruling on the constitutionality of any particular abortion restriction , the Supreme Court , by ruling in favor of Louisiana , could make it practically impossible to challenge states ’ increasingly draconian and punitive restrictions on abortion and ultimately eviscerate reproductive autonomy .
To Bindeman , the notion that she would have been able to navigate the legal system in order to gain her right to an abortion while simultaneously dealing with her medical circumstances is absurd .
“ I didn ’ t have the emotional or cognitive wherewithal ; @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
“ It would have been too much to try to bring the challenge myself.
” When the Supreme Court convenes on March 4 , it will actually be considering two abortion-related challenges arising out of Louisiana .
The first , known as June Medical Services LLC et al .
v. Gee , is the kind of case that has become all too familiar .
The Center for Reproductive Rights is representing a handful of Louisiana providers on behalf of themselves and their patients challenging a 2014 state law that requires all abortion @ @ @ @ @ @ @ miles of clinics where they provide services .
Abortion is a supremely safe procedure and rarely produces the kind of medical complications that necessitate a hospital stay , which is in part why it is so difficult for abortion doctors to obtain hospital privileges unless they have a broader area of practice .
Only one Louisiana abortion provider has admitting privileges .
The Louisiana law is identical to one passed the previous year in Texas that was partly responsible for the closure of half the state ’ s abortion clinics — a consequence @ @ @ @ @ @ @ an email to the Louisiana bill ’ s sponsor , an anti-abortion activist noted that Texas ’ s admitting privileges law had “ tremendous success ” in closing clinics and restricting access to health care .
In upholding abortion rights , the Supreme Court has allowed leeway for states to pass laws that serve to restrict access in various ways , including when a restriction has some legitimate health benefit for women .
After the Center for Reproductive Rights sued Texas on behalf of providers and patients , the state argued that the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and provide continuity of care in the event that something should go wrong — among the same arguments Louisiana subsequently made in defending its law .
The federal district court in Texas disagreed with the state , finding that there was no health benefit and the law placed an undue burden on women seeking abortion .
The U.S. 5th Circuit Court of Appeals disagreed , teeing up the case before the Supreme Court .
In 2016 , the court reversed the 5th Circuit , deciding in a landmark 5-4 opinion in Whole Woman @ @ @ @ @ @ @ law was unconstitutional .
Following that opinion , the district court in Louisiana made similar findings in striking down the state ’ s admitting privileges law .
And despite the Supreme Court ’ s clear mandate in Whole Woman ’ s Health , the 5th Circuit again disagreed with the lower court and upheld Louisiana ’ s law — thus pitching to the Supreme Court the exact question it had resolved a few years earlier .
In the interim , just one thing has changed : There are two new white male judges @ @ @ @ @ @ @ conservative majority .
The fact that the court is now potentially reconsidering Whole Woman ’ s Health makes many people nervous that it may take the opportunity to do additional damage , including by revisiting Roe v. Wade , as a contingent of more than 200 conservative members of Congress has encouraged .
But without saying much at all on the issue of admitting privileges or the underlying right to abortion , the court could nonetheless do devastating and lasting damage to reproductive rights in the way that it decides the second Louisiana @ @ @ @ @ @ @ state , Gee v. June Medical Services LLC et al.
, which attacks a longstanding legal doctrine that allows plaintiffs to assert the rights of a third party that would otherwise face an impediment to vindicating their own rights .
In abortion-related litigation , this has been accepted practice for nearly 50 years , since individual women , such as Julie Bindeman , have a right to access abortion but lack a meaningful ability to assert that right in court — or a means to have that right upheld in a timely way @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for example , has been pending for more than five years .
In order to assert the rights of others , a plaintiff must personally face injury from the regulation at issue and have a relationship with the third party .
There also needs to be some obstacle to the third party raising its own rights .
The courts have long held — including in Whole Woman ’ s Health — that abortion providers satisfy these three conditions when challenging state abortion restrictions .
But now , in briefs filed with the Supreme @ @ @ @ @ @ @ courts have granted standing to abortion providers based on “ unexamined assumptions ” that should be “ abandoned.
” They argue that abortion providers don ’ t have a sufficiently close relationship with their patients — as the state sees it , they don ’ t spend enough one-on-one time with them — and that there is no good reason that a woman couldn ’ t assert her own rights in court .
They shrug off the notion that a woman might fear stigma or other harm in bringing a suit herself .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ are unable to assert their own rights is a legal fiction , ” lawyers for the Louisiana Department of Justice write in their petition , which notes that Roe v. Wade and its related cases were brought by individual women .
Of course , in those cases the women filed suit using pseudonyms like “ Jane Roe ” precisely to protect their identities .
Louisiana also argues that when a health and safety regulation such as the admitting privileges law is at stake , there is an inherent conflict of interest between providers @ @ @ @ @ @ @ from filing suit — after all , the law is meant to protect women from allegedly unfit doctors , they argue .
“ There is no basis to simply assume that women … get ‘ what they want ’ when the court allows a doctor to use women ’ s rights to challenge health and safety standards designed to protect women from those very doctors.
” To allow third-party standing in this case — and others like it — improperly grants abortion providers “ favored ” status , Louisiana argues .
On all @ @ @ @ @ @ @ are lacking , according to Columbia University law professor Gillian Metzger .
For starters , decades of precedent on third-party standing cut against the state ’ s claims .
“ They frame it as , ‘ Third-party standing here is an example of abortion exceptionalism.
’ But actually , third-party standing here is pretty standard , ” she said .
“ It ’ s the effort to deny third-party standing here that would be exceptional.
” Metzger is one of seven federal courts scholars who have signed onto a friend-of-the-court brief that aims @ @ @ @ @ @ @ history , scope , and application of third-party standing .
Metzger argues that standing is a distinct question divorced from the strength of the case and that Louisiana “ collapses ” these two things “ in a way that is problematic.
” By claiming that there is a conflict between providers and patients when it comes to the admitting privileges law , the state presumes that it is correct in its assertion that the law actually protects women ’ s health .
Historically , she notes , such regulations “ rarely actually do @ @ @ @ @ @ @ crucial point , according to Metzger : The providers also have a right they seek to vindicate .
“ The idea is that I may not have direct reproductive rights that I ’ m asserting here , but I have a right , as a doctor , to only be subjected to … a rule or statute that is constitutionally valid , ” she said .
In other words , the rights of doctors and patients are intertwined and can not be uncoupled .
So if a regulation of doctors is meant to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ access abortion , it is unconstitutional .
Therefore , as Metzger and her colleagues put it in their brief , if “ a statute violates women ’ s due process rights , then it is not a valid rule of law and physicians should not be subject to penalties pursuant to it.
” “ In this context , you can ’ t separate these out , ” Metzger emphasized .
“ It ’ s the very application of the regulation to the doctors that ’ s also injuring the women.
” It isn @ @ @ @ @ @ @ could be impacted by a reversal of course on the application of third-party standing .
Third-party standing has been accepted in a variety of other contexts , including when the relationship between the plaintiff and the third party is tenuous .
In a seminal 1976 case , a beer vendor was allowed to rely on the rights of her potential customers in challenging an Oklahoma law .
In criminal cases , defendants have been granted standing to assert the equal protection rights of potential jurors who were rejected for service based on race @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the rights of potential homebuyers of color targeted by racist neighborhood covenants , and teachers have been allowed to fight for the due process rights of students and their families .
How these types of cases might be impacted by a ruling in favor of Louisiana isn ’ t clear .
But , if the court were to carve out some exception to the general rules on third-party standing to single out and deny abortion providers the ability to challenge regulations , Metzger said the immediate impact would be that the challenge to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ be dismissed for a lack of jurisdiction .
That would unravel five years of litigation and require an entirely new lawsuit to be filed .
And if doctors aren ’ t allowed to bring suit , then individual women would have to carry the weight and likely only after the law has taken effect .
“ If you work that through , how are women affected by the regulation ?
Well , they ’ re affected if there are not available doctors , ” Metzger said .
“ So it may have to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to lose the ability to get access to a doctor before you can sue.
” Since 2014 , when Louisiana ’ s admitting privileges law was enacted , lawmakers in states across the country have passed a total of 278 abortion restrictions , according to Elizabeth Nash , senior state issues manager for the Guttmacher Institute .
The Center for Reproductive Rights , Planned Parenthood , and the American Civil Liberties Union have challenged these restrictions in dozens of pending cases , nearly all of which involve third-party standing .
Why the Supreme @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s third-party standing challenge isn ’ t entirely clear .
Indeed , over five years of litigation , the state never raised the issue of standing until the underlying case was accepted for the high court ’ s review .
And that in itself is unusual , because the court would ordinarily rely on the fact-finding of the lower court and subsequent review by the appeals court before deciding whether to get involved .
( In its brief to the court , the Center for Reproductive Rights argues that Louisiana ’ s silence @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that the state waived its right to mount a challenge now .
The Supreme Court is being asked to decide who is right on this issue . )
But there is one member of the court who has expressed clear disdain for allowing third-party standing in abortion cases : Justice Clarence Thomas .
A staunch opponent of abortion rights , Thomas wrote a dissent in the Whole Woman ’ s Health case that chastised the majority for allowing standing to groups it “ favored.
” The court “ has erroneously allowed doctors and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ right of women seeking abortion , ” he wrote in 2016 .
And , as Louisiana has done in its counter-petition to the court , Thomas has said there is no reason individual women can not come to court to vindicate their own rights .
None of the other justices joined Thomas ’ s dissent .
Nonetheless , the court could have accepted the case as a nod to Thomas .
Or it could be that the court wants to reassert its authority to decide when and if it will hear a particular @ @ @ @ @ @ @ subverted the Supreme Court ’ s Whole Woman ’ s Health decision in order to allow the Louisiana regulation to stand , thus pushing back on the high court .
( Another friend-of-the-court brief penned by a group of constitutional law scholars urges the court to reassert its authority over the circuit courts . )
Metzger suggested that the court may have accepted the third-party standing dispute as something of a “ off-ramp , ” a case that it could decide without having to weigh in directly on the admitting privileges question .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ she said .
In deciding not to disrupt precedent by revisiting Whole Woman ’ s Health , the court would be deciding instead to disrupt precedent on third-party standing .
“ That would have a huge impact and totally overturn a lot of litigation that has been going forward on the reliance of a very well-established doctrine , ” Metzger said .
“ It ’ s not like you ’ re being institutionally consistent.
” As Julie Burkhart sees it , Louisiana ’ s challenge to the legal standing of abortion providers is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ tactics meant to erode reproductive choice .
Burkhart is the founder and CEO of Trust Women , which runs several abortion clinics across the country .
She worked with Dr. George Tiller for years , and her clinic in Wichita , Kansas , is in the same building that housed Tiller ’ s practice until his murder in 2009 .
She ’ s concerned about what a change to the precedent could mean for her and her patients .
“ Putting the burden on women who are seeking abortion services is unrealistic , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s difficult , it ’ s challenging for individuals to bring suit .
And then we ’ re also dealing with pregnancy : You have a pregnancy , and as we all know , pregnancy doesn ’ t stop.
” She said that Trust Women and providers like it across the country have decades of experience and routinely act as advocates for their patients .
“ That ’ s certainly one of the ways that we seek to represent our patients , not only by giving them the high-quality medical care they deserve @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the judicial system and in the legislature , ” she said .
“ Medical practices , physicians being able to bring suit on behalf of their patients is commonplace , ” she said .
“ It ’ s not something extraordinary .
This is the way we operate , and it ’ s not broken.
” Not long after Julie Bindeman terminated her pregnancy , she and her husband conceived again .
She was heavily monitored by doctors who were watching out for any sign that something was wrong with the fetus .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ same brain deformity .
Again , the couple was crushed and decided to terminate the pregnancy .
This time around , Bindeman was able to find a local abortion provider and undergo a standard termination .
Talking to her doctor , Bindeman expressed feelings of isolation — she ’ d lost three pregnancies in a row ; she didn ’ t know anyone like her .
The doctor connected Bindeman with a woman who ’ d faced similar loss .
The two talked for hours , became friends , and ultimately both carried @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and her husband now have three children .
She reflects on all the ways in which her doctors advocated for her : staying late to see her , pulling strings to help make arrangements , connecting her to others she could confide in .
Bindeman , a licensed psychologist , says it ’ s similar to what she does for her patients .
“ As a provider , I fight for my patients too , ” she said .
“ I do it because it ’ s what people need.
” And she @ @ @ @ @ @ @ do for their patients in court .
“ The idea that a physician can ’ t advocate for their patient is ridiculous .
”

Julie Bindeman’s first pregnancy went so smoothly, and she and her husband were so enamored with their newborn son, that the couple decided to try for a second child as soon as possible. They conceived easily — just as they had the first time around — but then Bindeman miscarried. That reframed her thinking around pregnancy. “It wasn’t just, you get pregnant and have a baby, which had been my first experience,” she said. “Well, you can get pregnant and not have a baby, and that can happen really early.”
The couple decided to try again. Bindeman was anxious during the first trimester, bracing for another miscarriage. But that didn’t happen, and things seemed to be proceeding well. Then, at the 20-week mark, they received devastating news after a routine ultrasound: The fetus’s brain was not developing properly. If the fetus were to survive to term, it would never develop beyond a 2-month-old — it wouldn’t be able to walk, talk, or feed itself. “Our lives completely turned upside down,” Bindeman said.
After much conversation and reflection, and after consulting with their doctor, rabbi, and family, the Bindemans decided that they would terminate the pregnancy. Even though the couple lives in Maryland, which has scant restrictions on abortion and a relative wealth of providers, the Bindemans faced obstacles.
Just weeks earlier, in the spring of 2009, Dr. George Tiller, a world-renowned abortion provider based in Kansas who specialized in the type of later-term abortion that Julie Bindeman would need, had been assassinated in a church by an anti-abortion extremist. The killing sent a chill through providers across the nation. As a result, the closest abortion provider the Bindemans could find was in New Jersey, meaning that Julie would have to travel hundreds of miles to a state where she knew no one. That was unsettling, so in the end, she was forced to terminate her pregnancy in a local hospital via induced labor and delivery as opposed to the dilation and extraction method, which is safer, performed in a clinic, and used in 95 percent of later-term abortions.
It was a painful and traumatic experience that took several days, and yet Bindeman still understood that she was fortunate: She had resources and connections and, even though Tiller’s murder had spooked local providers, she still lived in a state that respected her right to decide whether or not to continue her pregnancy.
Had Bindeman been living in another state — like Texas, Oklahoma, Mississippi, Missouri, or Alabama, among others — not only would she have had to deal with the emotional and physical pain of losing a wanted pregnancy, but she would also have been forced to navigate a hostile legal landscape rife with the kinds of abortion restrictions that have proliferated across a large swath of the country, including arbitrary waiting periods, coercive counseling requirements, and, importantly, gestational abortion bans at 20 weeks — or even earlier.
And, if the state of Louisiana gets its way in a lawsuit currently pending before the U.S. Supreme Court, women in Bindeman’s position living in hostile states could have an extra burden to carry: In order to get access to the abortion services they need, they may personally have to challenge those restrictions in court.
Louisiana’s suit, which the court will consider during oral arguments on March 4, threatens not only to undo decades of precedent allowing abortion providers to mount legal challenges on behalf of their prospective patients, but also dismantle a century of precedent in other kinds of cases in which plaintiffs similarly seek to vindicate the rights of third parties.
It is the latest salvo in the ongoing effort of anti-abortion lawmakers to erode reproductive rights. Without ever ruling on the constitutionality of any particular abortion restriction, the Supreme Court, by ruling in favor of Louisiana, could make it practically impossible to challenge states’ increasingly draconian and punitive restrictions on abortion and ultimately eviscerate reproductive autonomy.
To Bindeman, the notion that she would have been able to navigate the legal system in order to gain her right to an abortion while simultaneously dealing with her medical circumstances is absurd. “I didn’t have the emotional or cognitive wherewithal; I was grieving,” Bindeman said. “It would have been too much to try to bring the challenge myself.”
Double Trouble in Louisiana
When the Supreme Court convenes on March 4, it will actually be considering two abortion-related challenges arising out of Louisiana. The first, known as June Medical Services LLC et al. v. Gee, is the kind of case that has become all too familiar. The Center for Reproductive Rights is representing a handful of Louisiana providers on behalf of themselves and their patients challenging a 2014 state law that requires all abortion doctors to have hospital-admitting privileges within 30 miles of clinics where they provide services. Abortion is a supremely safe procedure and rarely produces the kind of medical complications that necessitate a hospital stay, which is in part why it is so difficult for abortion doctors to obtain hospital privileges unless they have a broader area of practice. Only one Louisiana abortion provider has admitting privileges.
The Louisiana law is identical to one passed the previous year in Texas that was partly responsible for the closure of half the state’s abortion clinics — a consequence that Louisiana lawmakers clearly understood. In an email to the Louisiana bill’s sponsor, an anti-abortion activist noted that Texas’s admitting privileges law had “tremendous success” in closing clinics and restricting access to health care.
In upholding abortion rights, the Supreme Court has allowed leeway for states to pass laws that serve to restrict access in various ways, including when a restriction has some legitimate health benefit for women. After the Center for Reproductive Rights sued Texas on behalf of providers and patients, the state argued that the admitting privileges were necessary to protect women and provide continuity of care in the event that something should go wrong — among the same arguments Louisiana subsequently made in defending its law.
The federal district court in Texas disagreed with the state, finding that there was no health benefit and the law placed an undue burden on women seeking abortion. The U.S. 5th Circuit Court of Appeals disagreed, teeing up the case before the Supreme Court. In 2016, the court reversed the 5th Circuit, deciding in a landmark 5-4 opinion in Whole Woman’s Health v. Hellerstedt that the law was unconstitutional.
Following that opinion, the district court in Louisiana made similar findings in striking down the state’s admitting privileges law. And despite the Supreme Court’s clear mandate in Whole Woman’s Health, the 5th Circuit again disagreed with the lower court and upheld Louisiana’s law — thus pitching to the Supreme Court the exact question it had resolved a few years earlier.
Without saying much at all on the issue of admitting privileges or the underlying right to abortion, the court could nonetheless do devastating damage.
In the interim, just one thing has changed: There are two new white male judges on the Supreme Court to solidify a conservative majority. The fact that the court is now potentially reconsidering Whole Woman’s Health makes many people nervous that it may take the opportunity to do additional damage, including by revisiting Roe v. Wade, as a contingent of more than 200 conservative members of Congress has encouraged.
But without saying much at all on the issue of admitting privileges or the underlying right to abortion, the court could nonetheless do devastating and lasting damage to reproductive rights in the way that it decides the second Louisiana case: a counter-petition filed by the state, Gee v. June Medical Services LLC et al., which attacks a longstanding legal doctrine that allows plaintiffs to assert the rights of a third party that would otherwise face an impediment to vindicating their own rights.
In abortion-related litigation, this has been accepted practice for nearly 50 years, since individual women, such as Julie Bindeman, have a right to access abortion but lack a meaningful ability to assert that right in court — or a means to have that right upheld in a timely way. The Louisiana admitting privileges lawsuit, for example, has been pending for more than five years.
In order to assert the rights of others, a plaintiff must personally face injury from the regulation at issue and have a relationship with the third party. There also needs to be some obstacle to the third party raising its own rights. The courts have long held — including in Whole Woman’s Health — that abortion providers satisfy these three conditions when challenging state abortion restrictions.
But now, in briefs filed with the Supreme Court, Louisiana is arguing that the courts have granted standing to abortion providers based on “unexamined assumptions” that should be “abandoned.” They argue that abortion providers don’t have a sufficiently close relationship with their patients — as the state sees it, they don’t spend enough one-on-one time with them — and that there is no good reason that a woman couldn’t assert her own rights in court. They shrug off the notion that a woman might fear stigma or other harm in bringing a suit herself. “The notion that women considering abortion are unable to assert their own rights is a legal fiction,” lawyers for the Louisiana Department of Justice write in their petition, which notes that Roe v. Wade and its related cases were brought by individual women. Of course, in those cases the women filed suit using pseudonyms like “Jane Roe” precisely to protect their identities.
Louisiana also argues that when a health and safety regulation such as the admitting privileges law is at stake, there is an inherent conflict of interest between providers and patients that should preclude the providers from filing suit — after all, the law is meant to protect women from allegedly unfit doctors, they argue. “There is no basis to simply assume that women … get ‘what they want’ when the court allows a doctor to use women’s rights to challenge health and safety standards designed to protect women from those very doctors.”
To allow third-party standing in this case — and others like it — improperly grants abortion providers “favored” status, Louisiana argues.
Illustration: Chiara Ghigliazza for The Intercept
Shifting the Burden
On all these points, Louisiana’s arguments are lacking, according to Columbia University law professor Gillian Metzger. For starters, decades of precedent on third-party standing cut against the state’s claims. “They frame it as, ‘Third-party standing here is an example of abortion exceptionalism.’ But actually, third-party standing here is pretty standard,” she said. “It’s the effort to deny third-party standing here that would be exceptional.”
Metzger is one of seven federal courts scholars who have signed onto a friend-of-the-court brief that aims to set the record straight on the history, scope, and application of third-party standing.
Metzger argues that standing is a distinct question divorced from the strength of the case and that Louisiana “collapses” these two things “in a way that is problematic.” By claiming that there is a conflict between providers and patients when it comes to the admitting privileges law, the state presumes that it is correct in its assertion that the law actually protects women’s health. Historically, she notes, such regulations “rarely actually do that.”
And the state overlooks a crucial point, according to Metzger: The providers also have a right they seek to vindicate. “The idea is that I may not have direct reproductive rights that I’m asserting here, but I have a right, as a doctor, to only be subjected to … a rule or statute that is constitutionally valid,” she said. In other words, the rights of doctors and patients are intertwined and cannot be uncoupled. So if a regulation of doctors is meant to disrupt a woman’s ability to access abortion, it is unconstitutional. Therefore, as Metzger and her colleagues put it in their brief, if “a statute violates women’s due process rights, then it is not a valid rule of law and physicians should not be subject to penalties pursuant to it.”
If doctors aren’t allowed to bring suit, then individual women would have to carry the weight.
“In this context, you can’t separate these out,” Metzger emphasized. “It’s the very application of the regulation to the doctors that’s also injuring the women.”
It isn’t only abortion rights cases that could be impacted by a reversal of course on the application of third-party standing. Third-party standing has been accepted in a variety of other contexts, including when the relationship between the plaintiff and the third party is tenuous. In a seminal 1976 case, a beer vendor was allowed to rely on the rights of her potential customers in challenging an Oklahoma law. In criminal cases, defendants have been granted standing to assert the equal protection rights of potential jurors who were rejected for service based on race. Homeowners have been able to assert the rights of potential homebuyers of color targeted by racist neighborhood covenants, and teachers have been allowed to fight for the due process rights of students and their families.
How these types of cases might be impacted by a ruling in favor of Louisiana isn’t clear. But, if the court were to carve out some exception to the general rules on third-party standing to single out and deny abortion providers the ability to challenge regulations, Metzger said the immediate impact would be that the challenge to Louisiana’s admitting privileges law would be dismissed for a lack of jurisdiction. That would unravel five years of litigation and require an entirely new lawsuit to be filed. And if doctors aren’t allowed to bring suit, then individual women would have to carry the weight and likely only after the law has taken effect.
“If you work that through, how are women affected by the regulation? Well, they’re affected if there are not available doctors,” Metzger said. “So it may have to go into effect, and you have to lose the ability to get access to a doctor before you can sue.”
Since 2014, when Louisiana’s admitting privileges law was enacted, lawmakers in states across the country have passed a total of 278 abortion restrictions, according to Elizabeth Nash, senior state issues manager for the Guttmacher Institute. The Center for Reproductive Rights, Planned Parenthood, and the American Civil Liberties Union have challenged these restrictions in dozens of pending cases, nearly all of which involve third-party standing.
The Court’s Puzzling Logic
Why the Supreme Court has decided to hear Louisiana’s third-party standing challenge isn’t entirely clear. Indeed, over five years of litigation, the state never raised the issue of standing until the underlying case was accepted for the high court’s review. And that in itself is unusual, because the court would ordinarily rely on the fact-finding of the lower court and subsequent review by the appeals court before deciding whether to get involved. (In its brief to the court, the Center for Reproductive Rights argues that Louisiana’s silence on third-party standing over the years means that the state waived its right to mount a challenge now. The Supreme Court is being asked to decide who is right on this issue.)
There is one member of the court who has expressed clear disdain for allowing third-party standing in abortion cases.
But there is one member of the court who has expressed clear disdain for allowing third-party standing in abortion cases: Justice Clarence Thomas. A staunch opponent of abortion rights, Thomas wrote a dissent in the Whole Woman’s Health case that chastised the majority for allowing standing to groups it “favored.” The court “has erroneously allowed doctors and clinics to vicariously vindicate the putative constitutional right of women seeking abortion,” he wrote in 2016. And, as Louisiana has done in its counter-petition to the court, Thomas has said there is no reason individual women cannot come to court to vindicate their own rights. None of the other justices joined Thomas’s dissent. Nonetheless, the court could have accepted the case as a nod to Thomas.
Or it could be that the court wants to reassert its authority to decide when and if it will hear a particular issue. Here, the 5th Circuit subverted the Supreme Court’s Whole Woman’s Health decision in order to allow the Louisiana regulation to stand, thus pushing back on the high court. (Another friend-of-the-court brief penned by a group of constitutional law scholars urges the court to reassert its authority over the circuit courts.)
Metzger suggested that the court may have accepted the third-party standing dispute as something of a “off-ramp,” a case that it could decide without having to weigh in directly on the admitting privileges question. But that logic is also flawed, she said. In deciding not to disrupt precedent by revisiting Whole Woman’s Health, the court would be deciding instead to disrupt precedent on third-party standing. “That would have a huge impact and totally overturn a lot of litigation that has been going forward on the reliance of a very well-established doctrine,” Metzger said. “It’s not like you’re being institutionally consistent.”
What People Need
As Julie Burkhart sees it, Louisiana’s challenge to the legal standing of abortion providers is just another in a long line of tactics meant to erode reproductive choice. Burkhart is the founder and CEO of Trust Women, which runs several abortion clinics across the country. She worked with Dr. George Tiller for years, and her clinic in Wichita, Kansas, is in the same building that housed Tiller’s practice until his murder in 2009.
She’s concerned about what a change to the precedent could mean for her and her patients. “Putting the burden on women who are seeking abortion services is unrealistic,” she said. “It’s difficult, it’s challenging for individuals to bring suit. And then we’re also dealing with pregnancy: You have a pregnancy, and as we all know, pregnancy doesn’t stop.” She said that Trust Women and providers like it across the country have decades of experience and routinely act as advocates for their patients. “That’s certainly one of the ways that we seek to represent our patients, not only by giving them the high-quality medical care they deserve, but also by defending them in the judicial system and in the legislature,” she said.
“Medical practices, physicians being able to bring suit on behalf of their patients is commonplace,” she said. “It’s not something extraordinary. This is the way we operate, and it’s not broken.”
Not long after Julie Bindeman terminated her pregnancy, she and her husband conceived again. She was heavily monitored by doctors who were watching out for any sign that something was wrong with the fetus. At 18 weeks, they discovered the same brain deformity. Again, the couple was crushed and decided to terminate the pregnancy. This time around, Bindeman was able to find a local abortion provider and undergo a standard termination.
Talking to her doctor, Bindeman expressed feelings of isolation — she’d lost three pregnancies in a row; she didn’t know anyone like her. The doctor connected Bindeman with a woman who’d faced similar loss. The two talked for hours, became friends, and ultimately both carried additional pregnancies successfully to term. Bindeman and her husband now have three children.
She reflects on all the ways in which her doctors advocated for her: staying late to see her, pulling strings to help make arrangements, connecting her to others she could confide in. Bindeman, a licensed psychologist, says it’s similar to what she does for her patients. “As a provider, I fight for my patients too,” she said. “I do it because it’s what people need.”
And she sees no difference in what abortion providers do for their patients in court. “The idea that a physician can’t advocate for their patient is ridiculous.”


theintercept--2020-02-10--Young People Have Been Eyeing the New Hampshire Primary Since 2017. They Could Make the Difference.

The core organizers came primarily from the campus fossil fuel divestment movement , which had been funded by the climate group 350.org and tried to pressure institutions to sell off their oil and gas investments .
Heading into the 2016 primary , Yong Jung Cho , a 350 organizer , persuaded many of those divestment activists to focus on electoral politics , arguing that bigger gains could be made in the political arena .
Throughout the 2016 election , youth organizers prowled the state of New Hampshire , registering college students and bird-dogging presidential candidates in the nation ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to turn out young people through the general election , powering Democratic Senate candidate Maggie Hasan over the GOP incumbent , Kelly Ayotte , by just 1,016 votes , and Hillary Clinton over Donald Trump by a margin of 2,736 .
College students were so closely associated with the wins that the Republican legislature has since moved to curb their ability to vote in the state .
But much of that organizing structure that powered 2016 turnout was left behind after the election .
Tom Steyer ’ s NextGen America , which also @ @ @ @ @ @ @ largely decamped .
“ NextGen picked up their bags and left town , ” said one young University of New Hampshire organizer , Dylan Carney .
That left young people trained as activists with no home — but with Trump headed for the White House and a climate emergency barreling down .
In July 2017 , divestment organizers from around the country met in Philadelphia to plot a new strategy , and some from New Hampshire , including Carney , joined .
It was the critical gathering for a group that would eventually @ @ @ @ @ @ @ like , this is exactly what we did for the last 12 months , ” Carney said , referring to the organizing strategy being kicked around by the would-be Sunrise founders .
But , he said , given their connection to New Hampshire — a state that is at once small enough to organize yet positioned to influence the direction of national politics — they decided not to join Sunrise , but to go off on their own locally .
“ We knew our role in this world was to help polarize American @ @ @ @ @ @ @ like a Green New Deal , free college , and Medicare for All.
” Carney and a handful of his colleagues dropped out of school and committed to organizing full time .
“ Instead of Sunrise , we did New Hampshire Youth Movement.
” They had a simple goal : spend the next three years organizing in order to boost youth turnout in the New Hampshire presidential primary by 6 percent , and do the same in the general election .
That would be enough , they figured , to nominate and elected @ @ @ @ @ @ @ So far , they ’ ve identified and registered 12,000 students who didn ’ t vote in 2016 .
The primary could be won with just 60,000 or so votes , given the crowded field , meaning that the youth intervention could prove decisive .
On Tuesday , they ’ ll drive voters at multiple colleges in the state to the polls .
In Iowa , youth turnout made all the difference .
It jumped by something like a third over 2016 levels , providing Sanders the decisive margin he needed to win @ @ @ @ @ @ @ spent 2017 engaged in local legislative activity and turned to elections in 2018 , trying to press Democratic candidates for an open New Hampshire congressional seat to back their issues : free college , a Green New Deal , Medicare for All .
The group , under-resourced and inexperienced , with one full-time employee — Dylan Carney , who is now field director — and two part-timers , had little effect on Chris Pappas , who the party machine elbowed to the nomination .
They backed him in the general and he won @ @ @ @ @ @ @ South Bend Mayor Pete Buttigieg — who has the backing of a Super PAC called VoteVets that has spent millions on television ads in New Hampshire alone — has recently been complaining that Sanders has help from outside groups , by which he means National Nurses United , Sunrise , and Our Revolution .
To that litany , he can add young people in New Hampshire : In 2019 , NHYM was able to raise some half a million dollars and began hiring a dozen field organizers to fan out across college campuses @ @ @ @ @ @ @ organizing enough young people to lift a progressive through the New Hampshire primary and the general election .
The money , Carney said , came from Sunrise , Student Power Network , Alliance for Youth Action , and other sources .
Sunrise endorsed Sanders in early January , followed by NHYM later that month .
Many of the NHYM organizers have put school on hold .
Jackson Brennan , now organizing at University of New Hampshire , said he decided to devote himself to organizing in 2018 .
“ I was struggling pretty @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , and I basically decided the world ’ s on fire , I ’ m drowning in student debt , I ’ m miserable , I might as well start doing this full time , ” he said .
He said that NHYM has been encouraging students to engage in what ’ s known as relational organizing , a tactic also embraced by the Sanders campaign , which simply means urging your friends , roommates , and classmates to vote .
Using an app called Empower , dorm captains are able to identify @ @ @ @ @ @ @ will then be called and texted by NHYM .
Quincy Abramson , 23 , graduated from UNH this May and is the statewide field director for NHYM .
She said that of the roughly 12,000 students the group has obtained pledge cards from , she expects most will turn out to vote , and many will bring roommates and friends .
Though NHYM has organized at every college in the state , she said it will have people on the ground on primary day at New England College , Keane State University , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ New Hampshire , and Dartmouth , and will drive students to the polls at every campus where the administration doesn ’ t block them from doing so .
Over the past few days , the organizers have made some 28,000 calls to potential student supporters , will likely pass 35,000 by Monday night , and are hitting thousands of dorm room doors .
Over the weekend , they set a goal of knocking 8,000 doors , Carney said , and managed to hit more than 6,000 “ I think we ’ ll see @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is a school we ’ re at , ” Abramson said .

Throughout the 2016 election, youth organizers prowled the state of New Hampshire, registering college students and bird-dogging presidential candidates in the nation’s first primary state. They continued working to turn out young people through the general election, powering Democratic Senate candidate Maggie Hasan over the GOP incumbent, Kelly Ayotte, by just 1,016 votes, and Hillary Clinton over Donald Trump by a margin of 2,736. College students were so closely associated with the wins that the Republican legislature has since moved to curb their ability to vote in the state.
The core organizers came primarily from the campus fossil fuel divestment movement, which had been funded by the climate group 350.org and tried to pressure institutions to sell off their oil and gas investments. Heading into the 2016 primary, Yong Jung Cho, a 350 organizer, persuaded many of those divestment activists to focus on electoral politics, arguing that bigger gains could be made in the political arena.
But much of that organizing structure that powered 2016 turnout was left behind after the election. Tom Steyer’s NextGen America, which also provided significant funding for the organizing, largely decamped. “NextGen picked up their bags and left town,” said one young University of New Hampshire organizer, Dylan Carney. That left young people trained as activists with no home — but with Trump headed for the White House and a climate emergency barreling down.
In July 2017, divestment organizers from around the country met in Philadelphia to plot a new strategy, and some from New Hampshire, including Carney, joined. It was the critical gathering for a group that would eventually become Sunrise Movement. “We were like, this is exactly what we did for the last 12 months,” Carney said, referring to the organizing strategy being kicked around by the would-be Sunrise founders.
But, he said, given their connection to New Hampshire — a state that is at once small enough to organize yet positioned to influence the direction of national politics — they decided not to join Sunrise, but to go off on their own locally. “We knew our role in this world was to help polarize American youth around issues they care about, like a Green New Deal, free college, and Medicare for All.” Carney and a handful of his colleagues dropped out of school and committed to organizing full time. “Instead of Sunrise, we did New Hampshire Youth Movement.”
They had a simple goal: spend the next three years organizing in order to boost youth turnout in the New Hampshire presidential primary by 6 percent, and do the same in the general election. That would be enough, they figured, to nominate and elected a progressive as president in 2020.
So far, they’ve identified and registered 12,000 students who didn’t vote in 2016. The primary could be won with just 60,000 or so votes, given the crowded field, meaning that the youth intervention could prove decisive. On Tuesday, they’ll drive voters at multiple colleges in the state to the polls. In Iowa, youth turnout made all the difference. It jumped by something like a third over 2016 levels, providing Sanders the decisive margin he needed to win the popular vote in the state.
The new organization spent 2017 engaged in local legislative activity and turned to elections in 2018, trying to press Democratic candidates for an open New Hampshire congressional seat to back their issues: free college, a Green New Deal, Medicare for All. The group, under-resourced and inexperienced, with one full-time employee — Dylan Carney, who is now field director — and two part-timers, had little effect on Chris Pappas, who the party machine elbowed to the nomination. They backed him in the general and he won the seat in the fall.
Former South Bend Mayor Pete Buttigieg — who has the backing of a Super PAC called VoteVets that has spent millions on television ads in New Hampshire alone — has recently been complaining that Sanders has help from outside groups, by which he means National Nurses United, Sunrise, and Our Revolution. To that litany, he can add young people in New Hampshire: In 2019, NHYM was able to raise some half a million dollars and began hiring a dozen field organizers to fan out across college campuses, with the goal of registering and organizing enough young people to lift a progressive through the New Hampshire primary and the general election. The money, Carney said, came from Sunrise, Student Power Network, Alliance for Youth Action, and other sources. Sunrise endorsed Sanders in early January, followed by NHYM later that month.
Many of the NHYM organizers have put school on hold. Jackson Brennan, now organizing at University of New Hampshire, said he decided to devote himself to organizing in 2018. “I was struggling pretty hard in school, racking up debt, and I basically decided the world’s on fire, I’m drowning in student debt, I’m miserable, I might as well start doing this full time,” he said.
He said that NHYM has been encouraging students to engage in what’s known as relational organizing, a tactic also embraced by the Sanders campaign, which simply means urging your friends, roommates, and classmates to vote. Using an app called Empower, dorm captains are able to identify Sanders supporters they live with, who will then be called and texted by NHYM.
Quincy Abramson, 23, graduated from UNH this May and is the statewide field director for NHYM. She said that of the roughly 12,000 students the group has obtained pledge cards from, she expects most will turn out to vote, and many will bring roommates and friends.
Though NHYM has organized at every college in the state, she said it will have people on the ground on primary day at New England College, Keane State University, Plymouth State University, the University of New Hampshire, and Dartmouth, and will drive students to the polls at every campus where the administration doesn’t block them from doing so. Over the past few days, the organizers have made some 28,000 calls to potential student supporters, will likely pass 35,000 by Monday night, and are hitting thousands of dorm room doors. Over the weekend, they set a goal of knocking 8,000 doors, Carney said, and managed to hit more than 6,000 “I think we’ll see record-high turnout in every town where there is a school we’re at,” Abramson said.
The most competitive rival candidate in the field, when it comes to youth support, said multiple NHYM organizers, is Elizabeth Warren, while Andrew Yang has something of a following as well. One of the most respected youth organizers in the state, Hannah Bristol, a veteran of NextGen, has spent months organizing for Warren on New Hampshire campuses. Indeed, the Warren organized presence on college campuses, Carney said, far surpasses that of the Sanders campaign. (As Sanders has climbed in the polls over the past few months and Warren slumped, however, it may turn out that Warren organizers ended up registering students who ultimately turn out for Sanders, a victory for the progressive wing of the party, if not Warren herself.)
NHYM operates independently of the Sanders campaign and is barred from coordination by campaign laws, though it has a kindred spirit inside the operation: Cho, who recruited many of the original organizers in 2016, is an organizing director for the Sanders campaign and oversees its efforts to turn out college students.
Witnessing the uptick in voting among young people in 2016, Republicans in the state legislature moved quickly to squash it, passing HB 1264 into law, which requires registered voters also to register their vehicles in the state and obtain a New Hampshire drivers license within 60 days of registering. The law is being challenged by the American Civil Liberties Union as plainly unconstitutional but, more importantly, it is effectively unenforceable, as police officers do not cross-reference drivers for their voter registration status. Instead, the law may be acting as a deterrent to possible voters.
Carney said the issue has come up in conversations with 10 to 20 percent of students, and organizers emphasize that it is a clear signal of just how important their vote is — so important that Republicans are doing whatever they can to stop them. New Hampshire has same-day voter registration, meaning that anyone who lives in the state can register and vote on the day of the primary, and those votes can’t be uncounted, whether the student goes on to register their vehicle in the state or not.
Correction: February 10, 2020, 5:00 p.m.
A previous version of this story included the incorrect caption for the feature image. The story has been updated with the correct caption.


theintercept--2020-02-10--Pete Buttigieg’s Policy Director Has Been Traveling the Country for Months to Meet With “Investors”

Pete Buttigieg’s Policy Director Has Been Traveling the Country for Months to Meet With “Investors” in His Campaign

It ’ s common for campaigns that rely on wealthy donors to lean on surrogates and senior officials to buttress their fundraising operations , but sending the aide in charge of crafting policy on a tour of American mansions is an unusual approach and wipes out the line between policymaking and solicitation of campaign contributions .
Almost all of the invitations typically tout the role of Shah , a veteran of both Google and Goldman Sachs , as the campaign ’ s national policy director .
The presidential campaign of former South Bend Mayor Pete Buttigieg has taken the unusual @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , Sonal Shah , on the road .
For the past several months , she has been headlining high-dollar fundraisers across the country , according to a slew of invitations obtained from a variety of sources .
The news of Shah ’ s intimate involvement in Buttigieg ’ s fundraising comes as his campaign is under fire from both Sens .
Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren for his reliance on wealthy donors to power his campaign ( see , especially , the wine cave ) .
Buttigieg has argued that Democrats would be @ @ @ @ @ @ @ backs if they refused the support of the superrich .
But Buttigieg is not just a passive recipient of big money ; he devotes a significant amount of time and energy to soliciting it — in part by putting his chief policy adviser in the room with high-dollar donors .
Sanders and Warren have argued that relying on wealthy donors blunts the ability of Democrats to go directly after President Donald Trump ’ s corruption .
On ABC ’ s “ This Week ” on Sunday , Warren argued that “ the coalition @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s going carry us over the top.
” “ Last count , he has about 40 billionaires who are contributing to his campaign , the CEOs of the large pharmaceutical industries , the insurance companies , and so forth , ” Sanders told “ Face the Nation , ” referring to Buttigieg .
“ It matters enormously .
That is precisely the problem with American politics.
” The Buttigieg campaign has been sensitive to the charge that he is overly reliant on big money , and has urged its small-dollar donors to give @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the .
average contribution amount .
Shah ’ s months-long road trip is another indication , however , of just how significant high-dollar giving is to his campaign .
In a statement from spokesperson Sean Savett , the campaign did not directly address Shah ’ s close involvement in fundraising effort .
We are proud that more than 800,000 Americans have donated to our campaign and the only promise that any of them will ever get is that Pete will use their donations to defeat Donald Trump .
We don ’ t agree @ @ @ @ @ @ @ issue and what guides our policies is what ’ s best for America .
Pete is from a town that was ravaged by corporate greed and he ’ s proposed a bold , progressive agenda , which includes holding bad actors accountable and paying for our plans with higher taxes on the wealthiest Americans who can afford it .
The stakes in this election are clear and stark and we can ’ t go into this fight with one hand tied behind our backs .
That ’ s why whether you can give @ @ @ @ @ @ @ you are a Democrat , Independent or Republican , we welcome you to our campaign and won ’ t turn you away if you ’ re ready to help rid us of Donald Trump .
Shah ’ s background positions her well to connect with the high-net-worth individuals within the Democratic Party that are powering Buttigieg ’ s bid and are concerned about income inequality , climate change , health disparities , or other social inequities .
While she was a top official at both Goldman Sachs and Google before joining the Obama @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of the corporate wing of the party , Wall Street and Silicon Valley — she worked in the divisions of those firms publicly dedicated to doing social good .
At Goldman , she designed environmental strategy .
At Google , she did global development .
More recently , she became founding executive director of the Beeck Center for Social Impact and Innovation .
The attempt to marshal corporate resources in the service of society is in line with the Buttigieg approach to economic policy and politics , which aims to leave the system @ @ @ @ @ @ @ charitable efforts and social and technological innovation .
The high-dollar fundraisers are often organized around lofty themes , such as the one scheduled for February 21 : a “ conversation about economic equity and justice ” at an undisclosed Baltimore location .
Shah ’ s co-host that evening will be Chike Aguh , billed on the invite as the campaign ’ s policy adviser responsible for its Douglass Plan and the “ Future of Work.
” The Douglass Plan is the campaign ’ s effort at outreach to the black community and was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ high-profile black leaders in South Carolina who had told the campaign that they did not want to be listed as endorsers .
The earliest invite obtained by The Intercept dates to October 2 , and there have been at least 22 additional events held since then , with Shah serving either as solo host or , occasionally , co-hosting with another Buttigieg aide .
Top-level access to the events costs a maximum contribution of $ 2,800 .
All told , Shah has been meeting with high-level donors on at least a weekly basis @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for pancakes in Newton ; cocktails in Tulsa , Austin , Washington , D.C. , Atlanta , or Manhattan ; lunch in Chicago ; or video calls with Shah that investors can buy their way into .
The Buttigieg campaign is in the habit of referring to donations as “ investments.
” The RSVP for many of the fundraisers goes to the email address [ email protected ] .
The fundraising team ’ s titles similarly suggest that there is a return for money invested in the campaign .
Tom Strong-Grinsell , for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ regional investment director , ” handling New York .
Swati Mylavarapu , a Silicon Valley tech executive and startup investor , is the campaign ’ s “ national investment chair.
” Anthony Mercurio , a Hillary Clinton alum , is “ national investment director.
” ( Mylavarapu and Shah joined forces for at least one San Francisco fundraiser , a January 26 event called “ Chefs for Pete , ” with food by chef Alice Waters . )
The link between “ investing ” in a campaign and the policy it advocates @ @ @ @ @ @ @ made against Buttigieg .
“ When you have the heads of large pharmaceutical companies contributing to your campaign , you are not going to aggressively deal with the fact that , in some cases , we pay 10 times for the same exact drugs as our friends in Canada or in Europe pay .
You ’ re not going to take on the collusion and the corruption of the drug companies who are ripping us off .
”

The presidential campaign of former South Bend Mayor Pete Buttigieg has taken the unusual step of sending its national policy director, Sonal Shah, on the road. For the past several months, she has been headlining high-dollar fundraisers across the country, according to a slew of invitations obtained from a variety of sources.
It’s common for campaigns that rely on wealthy donors to lean on surrogates and senior officials to buttress their fundraising operations, but sending the aide in charge of crafting policy on a tour of American mansions is an unusual approach and wipes out the line between policymaking and solicitation of campaign contributions. Almost all of the invitations typically tout the role of Shah, a veteran of both Google and Goldman Sachs, as the campaign’s national policy director.
The news of Shah’s intimate involvement in Buttigieg’s fundraising comes as his campaign is under fire from both Sens. Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren for his reliance on wealthy donors to power his campaign (see, especially, the wine cave). Buttigieg has argued that Democrats would be fighting with one hand tied behind their backs if they refused the support of the superrich. But Buttigieg is not just a passive recipient of big money; he devotes a significant amount of time and energy to soliciting it — in part by putting his chief policy adviser in the room with high-dollar donors.
Sanders and Warren have argued that relying on wealthy donors blunts the ability of Democrats to go directly after President Donald Trump’s corruption. On ABC’s “This Week” on Sunday, Warren argued that “the coalition of billionaires is not exactly what’s going carry us over the top.”
“Last count, he has about 40 billionaires who are contributing to his campaign, the CEOs of the large pharmaceutical industries, the insurance companies, and so forth,” Sanders told “Face the Nation,” referring to Buttigieg. “It matters enormously. That is precisely the problem with American politics.”
The Buttigieg campaign has been sensitive to the charge that he is overly reliant on big money, and has urged its small-dollar donors to give in increasingly small numbers to drive down the . average contribution amount. Shah’s months-long road trip is another indication, however, of just how significant high-dollar giving is to his campaign.
In a statement from spokesperson Sean Savett, the campaign did not directly address Shah’s close involvement in fundraising effort.
We are proud that more than 800,000 Americans have donated to our campaign and the only promise that any of them will ever get is that Pete will use their donations to defeat Donald Trump. We don’t agree with all of our supporters on every issue and what guides our policies is what’s best for America. Pete is from a town that was ravaged by corporate greed and he’s proposed a bold, progressive agenda, which includes holding bad actors accountable and paying for our plans with higher taxes on the wealthiest Americans who can afford it. The stakes in this election are clear and stark and we can’t go into this fight with one hand tied behind our backs. That’s why whether you can give $3 or $300, whether you are a Democrat, Independent or Republican, we welcome you to our campaign and won’t turn you away if you’re ready to help rid us of Donald Trump.
Shah’s background positions her well to connect with the high-net-worth individuals within the Democratic Party that are powering Buttigieg’s bid and are concerned about income inequality, climate change, health disparities, or other social inequities. While she was a top official at both Goldman Sachs and Google before joining the Obama administration — spanning the two dominant elements of the corporate wing of the party, Wall Street and Silicon Valley — she worked in the divisions of those firms publicly dedicated to doing social good. At Goldman, she designed environmental strategy. At Google, she did global development. More recently, she became founding executive director of the Beeck Center for Social Impact and Innovation.
The attempt to marshal corporate resources in the service of society is in line with the Buttigieg approach to economic policy and politics, which aims to leave the system largely untouched but divert some resources toward charitable efforts and social and technological innovation.
The high-dollar fundraisers are often organized around lofty themes, such as the one scheduled for February 21: a “conversation about economic equity and justice” at an undisclosed Baltimore location. Shah’s co-host that evening will be Chike Aguh, billed on the invite as the campaign’s policy adviser responsible for its Douglass Plan and the “Future of Work.” The Douglass Plan is the campaign’s effort at outreach to the black community and was rolled out with claims of support from high-profile black leaders in South Carolina who had told the campaign that they did not want to be listed as endorsers.
The earliest invite obtained by The Intercept dates to October 2, and there have been at least 22 additional events held since then, with Shah serving either as solo host or, occasionally, co-hosting with another Buttigieg aide. Top-level access to the events costs a maximum contribution of $2,800.
All told, Shah has been meeting with high-level donors on at least a weekly basis throughout the fall and winter, whether for pancakes in Newton; cocktails in Tulsa, Austin, Washington, D.C., Atlanta, or Manhattan; lunch in Chicago; or video calls with Shah that investors can buy their way into.
The Buttigieg campaign is in the habit of referring to donations as “investments.” The RSVP for many of the fundraisers goes to the email address investment@peteforamerica.com. The fundraising team’s titles similarly suggest that there is a return for money invested in the campaign. Tom Strong-Grinsell, for instance, is the campaign’s “regional investment director,” handling New York. Swati Mylavarapu, a Silicon Valley tech executive and startup investor, is the campaign’s “national investment chair.” Anthony Mercurio, a Hillary Clinton alum, is “national investment director.” (Mylavarapu and Shah joined forces for at least one San Francisco fundraiser, a January 26 event called “Chefs for Pete,” with food by chef Alice Waters.)
The link between “investing” in a campaign and the policy it advocates for is precisely the argument Sanders has made against Buttigieg. “When you have the heads of large pharmaceutical companies contributing to your campaign, you are not going to aggressively deal with the fact that, in some cases, we pay 10 times for the same exact drugs as our friends in Canada or in Europe pay. You’re not going to take on the collusion and the corruption of the drug companies who are ripping us off.”


theintercept--2020-02-10--Pete Buttigieg Repeatedly Dodged a Question About Black Marijuana Arrests in South Bend — Then Invok

Pete Buttigieg Repeatedly Dodged a Question About Black Marijuana Arrests in South Bend — Then Invoked Gangs

Democratic presidential debate on Friday in Manchester , New Hampshire , Pete Buttigieg obfuscated his administration ’ s record on arresting local black residents for marijuana possession .
The issue was raised by Linsey Davis , an ABC correspondent and debate moderator , who asked the former South Bend , Indiana , mayor to explain the increase under his police department of arrests of black people for marijuana possession .
“ Under your leadership as mayor , a black resident in South Bend , Indiana , was four times more likely to be arrested for marijuana possession than a white @ @ @ @ @ @ @ statistics first reported by The Intercept .
“ Now , that racial disparity is higher than the rest of the state — in fact , it ’ s higher than the rest of the nation — and that disparity increased in South Bend after you took office .
When talking about the problem on national terms , you ’ ve called it ‘ evidence of systemic racism.
’ You were mayor for eight years , so weren ’ t you , in effect , the head of the system ?
And how do @ @ @ @ @ @ @ under your leadership ?
” Buttigieg obfuscated , responding with statistics that didn ’ t address Davis ’ s question and avoiding the racial disparity on pot arrests .
“ Well , the reality is , on my watch , drug arrests in South Bend were lower than the national average .
And specifically to marijuana , lower than in Indiana .
But there is no question that systemic racism has penetrated to every level of our system , and my city was not immune .
I took a lot of heat for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ department .
But we ’ ve got to confront the fact that there is no escaping how this is part of all of our policies , ” he said .
“ It ’ s great that everybody ’ s so enlightened about drug policy now when it comes to opioids , but where were you when it came to marijuana , where were you when it came to the crack epidemic in the 1990s ?
” Davis reiterated her original question , pressing him to answer in a way moderators in previous debates @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to respond by saying , “ And again , the overall rate was lower than the national rate.
” Then Davis cut him off to make a correction : “ No , there was an increase , ” she said .
“ The year before you were in office , it was lower .
Once you became in office in 2012 , that number went up .
In 2018 , the last number year that we have record for , that number was still up.
” Buttigieg seemed to concede Davis ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ pot arrests of black people on “ gun violence and gang violence.
” “ One of the strategies that our community adopted was to target when there were cases where there was gun violence and gang violence , which was slaughtering so many in our community , burying teenagers , disproportionately black teenagers .
We adopted a strategy that said that drug enforcement would be targeted in cases where there was a connection to the most violent group or gang connected to a murder , ” Buttigieg said .
The subtext of Buttigieg @ @ @ @ @ @ @ old trope of tough-on-crime politics : that black people commit more crimes .
sent out a fact check following the exchange over Davis ’ s question , saying black residents in South Bend were less likely to be arrested for pot than in Indiana overall .
The campaign did not address Davis ’ s question as to the racial disparity — the fact that Buttigieg ’ s administration not only continued to arrest black people at higher rates than white people for the same thing , but that it got worse under his @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Buttigieg ’ s second term , black people in South Bend were arrested for marijuana possession at a rate lower than the national average — again failing to address Davis ’ s question about the disparity between white and black residents for the same crime .
The campaign was still doing damage control over the weekend after the debate , reaching out to South Bend police for information and distributing that , along with a spreadsheet , to reporters .
Buttigieg himself appeared on two Sunday political talk shows .
After discussing the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ marijuana possession with the police department , the campaign suggested that one possible explanation for the spike was a 2018 change in FBI reporting guidelines , and not an actual increase in arrests .
At the time , local outlet WNDU reported the “ new system will collect more information about each incident , potentially giving the appearance of an increase in crime.
” Overall drug arrests decreased in South Bend consistently from 2010 to 2016 , jumped in 2017 — the year before the reporting change — and more than doubled in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Bend decreased from 245 in 2008 to 107 in 2017 , spiking to 284 in 2018 .
The campaign said that in the past when officers arrested people on other drug charges , if they had marijuana on them , they might not always report it .
“ In 2018 , the police department changed the way it classified crimes , switching to the National Incident-Based Reporting System ( NIBRS ) , ” campaign spokesperson Sean Savett said in a statement .
“ As a result of the change in classification , the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ began reporting marijuana possession for people who were arrested and charged with other crimes.
” The racial disparity in those arrests persisted though , and in some cases got worse .
The campaign also said marijuana arrests were not the focus of the police department .
The Intercept reported in November that after Buttigieg took office in January 2012 , and during his eight years as mayor , the city ’ s black residents were four times as likely to be arrested for marijuana possession than white residents .
The year before he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ closer to 3.3 times more likely to be arrested for marijuana possession , which increased to more than a fivefold disparity by 2017 , according to data from the FBI .
South Bend ’ s population is around 63 percent white and 26 percent black .
In 2012 , Butttigieg ’ s first year in office , the national arrest rate for marijuana possession among black people was about three times higher than the rate for white people .
In Indiana , the rate was closer to 3.7 .
In South Bend , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ as white people to be arrested for the same thing .
Over the weekend , Buttigieg appeared on Sunday talk shows , telling CNN ’ s “ State of the Union ” : “ All of us are implicated in these problems , and I take responsibility for everything good , bad , and indifferent that we did in our city .
But I also take responsibility for the fact that arrest rates for black residents in my city on drug charges are lower than in the state and around the country .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ get any of us off the hook.
” In its initial campaign response , the Buttigieg campaign generally blamed racial disparities in marijuana arrests on pot criminalization and systematic racism .
The campaign noted Buttigieg ’ s Douglass Plan to address systemic racism , along with proposals to decriminalize marijuana possession and retroactively reduce sentences for incarcerated people who were charged for pot .
Buttigieg ’ s repeated responses in the exchange with Davis point to a major weakness for his campaign , as evidenced by repeated protests by Black Lives Matter activists @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The damage was palpable during the debate itself , both in Davis ’ s correction and her follow-up directed to Buttigieg ’ s rival Sen. Elizabeth Warren , D-Mass .
“ Sen .
Warren , ” Davis said , “ is that a substantial answer from Mayor Buttigieg ?
”

During the eighth Democratic presidential debate on Friday in Manchester, New Hampshire, Pete Buttigieg obfuscated his administration’s record on arresting local black residents for marijuana possession. The issue was raised by Linsey Davis, an ABC correspondent and debate moderator, who asked the former South Bend, Indiana, mayor to explain the increase under his police department of arrests of black people for marijuana possession.
“Under your leadership as mayor, a black resident in South Bend, Indiana, was four times more likely to be arrested for marijuana possession than a white resident,” Davis said, invoking statistics first reported by The Intercept. “Now, that racial disparity is higher than the rest of the state — in fact, it’s higher than the rest of the nation — and that disparity increased in South Bend after you took office. When talking about the problem on national terms, you’ve called it ‘evidence of systemic racism.’ You were mayor for eight years, so weren’t you, in effect, the head of the system? And how do you explain that increase in black arrests under your leadership?”
Buttigieg obfuscated, responding with statistics that didn’t address Davis’s question and avoiding the racial disparity on pot arrests. “Well, the reality is, on my watch, drug arrests in South Bend were lower than the national average. And specifically to marijuana, lower than in Indiana. But there is no question that systemic racism has penetrated to every level of our system, and my city was not immune. I took a lot of heat for discussing systemic racism with my own police department. But we’ve got to confront the fact that there is no escaping how this is part of all of our policies,” he said. “It’s great that everybody’s so enlightened about drug policy now when it comes to opioids, but where were you when it came to marijuana, where were you when it came to the crack epidemic in the 1990s?”
Davis reiterated her original question, pressing him to answer in a way moderators in previous debates have shied away from. Buttigieg began to respond by saying, “And again, the overall rate was lower than the national rate.”
Then Davis cut him off to make a correction: “No, there was an increase,” she said. “The year before you were in office, it was lower. Once you became in office in 2012, that number went up. In 2018, the last number year that we have record for, that number was still up.”
Buttigieg seemed to concede Davis’s point and pivoted to blaming the elevated pot arrests of black people on “gun violence and gang violence.”
“One of the strategies that our community adopted was to target when there were cases where there was gun violence and gang violence, which was slaughtering so many in our community, burying teenagers, disproportionately black teenagers. We adopted a strategy that said that drug enforcement would be targeted in cases where there was a connection to the most violent group or gang connected to a murder,” Buttigieg said.
The subtext of Buttigieg’s remark harkened back to an old trope of tough-on-crime politics: that black people commit more crimes.
The Buttigieg campaign sent out a fact check following the exchange over Davis’s question, saying black residents in South Bend were less likely to be arrested for pot than in Indiana overall. The campaign did not address Davis’s question as to the racial disparity — the fact that Buttigieg’s administration not only continued to arrest black people at higher rates than white people for the same thing, but that it got worse under his watch. The campaign added that during Buttigieg’s second term, black people in South Bend were arrested for marijuana possession at a rate lower than the national average — again failing to address Davis’s question about the disparity between white and black residents for the same crime.
The campaign was still doing damage control over the weekend after the debate, reaching out to South Bend police for information and distributing that, along with a spreadsheet, to reporters. Buttigieg himself appeared on two Sunday political talk shows.
“As a result of the change in classification, the number appeared to increase because the department began reporting marijuana possession for people who were arrested and charged with other crimes.”
After discussing the spike in arrests of black residents for marijuana possession with the police department, the campaign suggested that one possible explanation for the spike was a 2018 change in FBI reporting guidelines, and not an actual increase in arrests. At the time, local outlet WNDU reported the “new system will collect more information about each incident, potentially giving the appearance of an increase in crime.” Overall drug arrests decreased in South Bend consistently from 2010 to 2016, jumped in 2017 — the year before the reporting change — and more than doubled in 2018. Marijuana possession arrests in South Bend decreased from 245 in 2008 to 107 in 2017, spiking to 284 in 2018. The campaign said that in the past when officers arrested people on other drug charges, if they had marijuana on them, they might not always report it.
“In 2018, the police department changed the way it classified crimes, switching to the National Incident-Based Reporting System (NIBRS),” campaign spokesperson Sean Savett said in a statement. “As a result of the change in classification, the number appeared to increase because the department began reporting marijuana possession for people who were arrested and charged with other crimes.” The racial disparity in those arrests persisted though, and in some cases got worse. The campaign also said marijuana arrests were not the focus of the police department.
The Intercept reported in November that after Buttigieg took office in January 2012, and during his eight years as mayor, the city’s black residents were four times as likely to be arrested for marijuana possession than white residents. The year before he came into office, black people were closer to 3.3 times more likely to be arrested for marijuana possession, which increased to more than a fivefold disparity by 2017, according to data from the FBI. South Bend’s population is around 63 percent white and 26 percent black.
In 2012, Butttigieg’s first year in office, the national arrest rate for marijuana possession among black people was about three times higher than the rate for white people. In Indiana, the rate was closer to 3.7. In South Bend, black people were 4.8 times as likely as white people to be arrested for the same thing.
Over the weekend, Buttigieg appeared on Sunday talk shows, telling CNN’s “State of the Union”: “All of us are implicated in these problems, and I take responsibility for everything good, bad, and indifferent that we did in our city. But I also take responsibility for the fact that arrest rates for black residents in my city on drug charges are lower than in the state and around the country. But look, that doesn’t get any of us off the hook.”
In its initial campaign response, the Buttigieg campaign generally blamed racial disparities in marijuana arrests on pot criminalization and systematic racism. The campaign noted Buttigieg’s Douglass Plan to address systemic racism, along with proposals to decriminalize marijuana possession and retroactively reduce sentences for incarcerated people who were charged for pot.
Buttigieg’s repeated responses in the exchange with Davis point to a major weakness for his campaign, as evidenced by repeated protests by Black Lives Matter activists at various events on the trail. The damage was palpable during the debate itself, both in Davis’s correction and her follow-up directed to Buttigieg’s rival Sen. Elizabeth Warren, D-Mass. “Sen. Warren,” Davis said, “is that a substantial answer from Mayor Buttigieg?”
“No,” Warren responded, flatly, to raucous applause.