Guest Essayist: Joerg Knipprath

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

Monopolies have long been viewed with suspicion under Anglo-American law. In the 1602 Case of Monopolies, the Court of Queen’s Bench declared void a monopoly grant by Elizabeth I for the importation of playing cards. The court reasoned that monopolies harmed individuals by preventing skilled tradesmen from pursuing their trade. In addition, they harmed the public because the monopolist would raise prices, yet have no incentive to increase or even maintain the quality of the goods. Not long thereafter, in 1624, Parliament passed the Statute of Monopolies, which broadly forbade the practice of issuing royal patents. 

Americans also looked askance at monopolies for the reasons mentioned in the English case. Justice Stephen Field gave voice to this thinking in a powerful dissent in the Slaughterhouse Cases in 1873. Denouncing the Supreme Court’s failure to declare void a Louisiana grant of a slaughterhouse monopoly, Field asserted that, at the time of American independence, it was part of the fundamental law that “every free subject in the British empire was entitled to pursue his happiness by following any of the known established trades and occupations of the country,” which could not be restrained by government-created monopolies. That principle, he argued, was included in the Declaration of Independence among those inalienable rights which constituted liberty and the pursuit of happiness and “which are the gift of the Creator.” Field also invoked the original Constitution and the Fourteenth Amendment, whose texts protected the privileges and immunities of citizens.  He approvingly quoted another case that “it is one of the privileges of every American citizen to adopt and follow such lawful industrial pursuit, not injurious to the community, as he may see fit, … without being restricted by any of those unjust, oppressive, and odious monopolies or exclusive privileges which have been condemned by all free governments.”

Congress responded with the Interstate Commerce Act of 1887. The statute proved to be of little practical impact initially. While the new Act made rates illegal that were not reasonable and prohibited certain unpopular practices, such as rate-fixing and discriminatory rates between long and short hauls, the Act also allowed for exceptions. Moreover, it neither defined what was a reasonable rate nor allowed the Interstate Commerce Commission to set rates. To facilitate the efficient operation of the nationwide railroad system, the Commission generally tried to promote coordination and cooperation between the railroads. It also permitted the railroads to determine when the Act’s exception to the otherwise prohibited price discrimination applied. Not until 1910 was the Commission authorized to set interstate rates for the railroads. The railroads immediately exploited that change to avoid low maximum local rates set by the Texas Railroad Commission by having the ICC set higher rates for interstate shipping and invoking the principle that an interstate railroad cannot discriminate between its local and interstate traffic. 

While there was sympathy for at least some of the coordination by the railroads to stabilize their markets, the monopolizing activities of the industrial combinations had nothing to recommend them in the eyes of the public. The paradigm of monopolistic trusts was the Standard Oil Company, formed and controlled by the brilliant and ruthless John D. Rockefeller. The operation of that trust was the catalyst for the Sherman Act of 1890, an extremely popular law. It was also a vague law that targeted “combinations in restraint of trade” and “monopolizing.” It did not define what those terms meant, which was left to the courts and later statutes to develop. The Supreme Court eventually took a “rule of reason” approach under the Sherman Act to monopolization. The issue became whether a company sought to exploit its market power through unfair practices, such as monopoly pricing, market allocations with competitors, or predatory pricing (for example, temporarily charging below-cost prices) to thwart market entry by potential competitors.

The history of anti-monopoly sentiment might suggest that the Sherman Act was popular because people are opposed to such concentrations for economic reasons, that is, a concern about extortionate pricing, erosion of quality, and lack of innovation, which results from a lack of competition. Or, people supported the law out of an innate and determined sensibility that monopolies represent a broader threat to individual autonomy and liberty, especially among those who were unsuccessful in competing with such an entity. Yet, the Sherman Act’s vagueness and lack of a clear ultimate objective also suggest a panicked response to a phenomenon not then clearly understood, with the Supreme Court and later legislatures left to solve those complexities. The unprecedented size and presence of the trusts in emerging technological applications and at critical points in markets of vital raw materials frightened many. The vulnerabilities and longer-term weaknesses of industrial monopolies in an era of technological change were not yet apparent. Their alleged ability to bend politicians to their will in an age of corruption made them appear invulnerable. To the public, they were leviathans, with the same ominous potential for oppression as the namesake absolutist government described by Thomas Hobbes two centuries earlier.

 

An expert on constitutional law, and member of the Southwestern Law School faculty, Professor Joerg W. Knipprath has been interviewed by print and broadcast media on a number of related topics ranging from recent U.S. Supreme Court decisions to presidential succession. He has written opinion pieces and articles on business and securities law as well as constitutional issues, and has focused his more recent research on the effect of judicial review  on the evolution of constitutional law. He has also spoken on business law and contemporary constitutional issues before  professional and community forums, and serves as a Constituting America Fellow.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Joerg Knipprath

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

Years after the event, John Adams recounted his admission exam to Harvard College: “Mr. Mayhew, into whose Class We were to be admitted, presented me a Passage of English to translate into Latin. It was long, and casting my Eye over it, I found several Words the Latin for which did not occur to my memory. Thinking that I must translate it without a dictionary, I was in a great fright and expected to be turned by [rejected], an Event that I dreaded above all things.” Fortunately, Mayhew kindly permitted Adams to use a dictionary, and the young scholar was on his way. As admission to Harvard also required knowledge of classical Greek, Adams could read and write that language, too. 

Adams’ experience was familiar to many leading figures of the American founding, including James Madison, Alexander Hamilton, and Thomas Jefferson. These languages were an integral part of the classical curriculum, which constituted the education of the American elite from academies through colleges. Classical education was civilizational, to inculcate values distilled from the intellectual patrimony bestowed by the ancients. It was the acquisition of practical wisdom, not of practical skills. 

The emphasis on classical languages coincided with a fascination for the cultures from which they sprang. The influence of the ancient Greeks and Romans on the Americans of that time is obvious from the writings during the struggle for independence and the adoption of the Constitution. Americans saw in their society the incarnation of classical ideals in a new order for the ages; “novus ordo seclorum” is a phrase derived from a work by the Roman poet Virgil. The civic virtue fostered by this “proper” education was considered the foundation on which rested the republicanism that was at the core of the American experiment. 

Although eighteenth-century American republicanism was philosophically rooted in the consent of the governed, its political institutions stayed in the hands of a classically trained “natural aristocracy” of virtue and talent. However, change was in the offing. Science, industry, and agriculture were soon to undergo a profound metamorphosis, contemporaneous with a similarly significant transformation of education and the political order. 

The Northwest Ordinance of 1787 famously proclaimed, “Religion, morality, and knowledge, being necessary to good government and the happiness of mankind, schools and the means of education shall forever be encouraged.” Two years earlier, the Land Ordinance of 1785, which regulated the surveying and sale of Western lands, had made it national policy to set aside a one-mile-square parcel of land in each six-mile-square township in new territories for the establishment and funding of public schools to be created by the local towns. In 1787, the Confederation Congress, acting under the 1785 ordinance, granted two townships of 36 square miles each for the establishment and support of a public university in the Northwest Territory. The land would be sold to raise funds for that university. As a result, Ohio University was chartered by that state in 1804.

The technological innovations of the Industrial Revolution and the acquisition of a vast expanse of arable land through the Louisiana Purchase drove a demand for research and advanced training in the practical arts of manufacturing and agriculture. The discovery of mineral wealth in California gold, Nevada silver, and coal and petroleum for industrial use sparked interest in the science and technology of mining. Finally, advances in weaponry, changes in the nature of warfare triggered by the rise of mass armies through the Napoleonic Wars, and the dual challenges faced by the United States of controlling a vast area of land and of fighting the Civil War generated a pressing interest in military science.

These material changes in the lives of Americans coincided with fundamental political change in the era of Jacksonian Democracy. Broad popular participation in politics required an educated public to constrain tendencies to mobocracy, as did a more advanced, complex economy. These influences precipitated a democratization of children’s education through the Common School Movement, starting in Massachusetts in the 1830s, and of higher education through the Morrill Act of 1862. 

The Morrill Act was built on the model of the Land Ordinance of 1785. It granted each state 30,000 acres of federal land for every representative and senator to which the state was entitled. Funds raised from the land sale would establish at least one qualifying state college or support already existing state colleges. These public colleges would focus on agricultural science, mechanical arts and engineering, and military science. It was to be applied science, rather than theoretical science. These topics more likely appealed to students from non-elite backgrounds and reflected the dynamism and pragmatism of 19th-century America. After the Civil War, the Morrill Act also expanded educational opportunity by funding a number of what today are known as Historically Black Colleges and Universities.

The Morrill Act did not replace the influence of elite private universities, just as Jacksonian Democracy and its sequels—the 15th and 19th Amendments for Black and women’s suffrage—did not replace the influence of political elites. The classical curriculum, and with it the quest for civic virtue, was subordinated to the goal of material advancement that improved ordinary Americans’ lives. Expanding the scope of advanced education and making it available to many Americans through public funding, the Morrill Act ultimately promoted American republicanism in harmony with John Adams’ postulation, “Liberty cannot be preserved without a general knowledge among the people.”

An expert on constitutional law, and member of the Southwestern Law School faculty, Professor Joerg W. Knipprath has been interviewed by print and broadcast media on a number of related topics ranging from recent U.S. Supreme Court decisions to presidential succession. He has written opinion pieces and articles on business and securities law as well as constitutional issues, and has focused his more recent research on the effect of judicial review  on the evolution of constitutional law. He has also spoken on business law and contemporary constitutional issues before  professional and community forums, and serves as a Constituting America Fellow.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Joerg Knipprath

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

Rhode Island, in 1842, was the venue of a skirmish grandiosely called the Dorr War, after Thomas Dorr [Door], the leader of the ultimately losing side. That skirmish, in turn, was rooted in the broader political struggle playing out in the United States between adherents to the founding generation’s republicanism and the increasingly emboldened “common people” embracing the ideas and shibboleths [Shi-buh-leth] of Jacksonian Democracy.

Although the Constitution itself is silent on the point, most states in the founding decades required voters to possess a freehold estate in land, or in a few more democratic-minded states, to meet a surrogate standard based on otherwise taxable personal property. The requirement rested on classic republican doctrine generally endorsed by Americans at the time. The broad propertied middle and upper classes were the main sources of public revenue. Thus, they could safely be trusted to act wisely due to their keener interest in the overall effects of public policies and to act more independently because their property insulated them from vote-buying schemes and similar base enticements. Those with “skin in the game” would decide based on reflection and reason, not enthusiasm and passion.

The succeeding generations pushed for broader popular participation in formal political processes. This democratization in the first half of the 19th century led to the elimination in state constitutions of property ownership requirements to vote in state and federal elections. As a result, by mid-century, adult white male citizens generally could vote, as could some free adult Black males. The expansion of the electoral franchise continued over the next two generations, gradually granting a formal right to vote to non-white voters and to women. This historical current swept through Rhode Island as well, albeit in fits and starts. As in other states, the drive for constitutional reform of the electoral franchise was accompanied by demands to reform the framework of representation in the legislature.

At independence, Rhode Island kept its last royal charter as its state constitution, with changes made to reflect its new status. That charter, a generally progressive document for its time when granted by King Charles II in 1663, allowed only specified landowners to vote. Moreover, the charter apportioned representation in the state legislature on a geographical basis, with a specific number, at least two, allotted to each town, more for some larger towns.

Over the nearly two centuries of the charter’s existence, the population of Rhode Island had grown. Even more pressing, the legislature had become malapportioned [mal-uh-por-tioned] because some towns grew more than others as the economy changed due to industrialization. That industrialization also increased the number of landless male adults compared to the relatively stagnant number of qualified landowners, thereby exacerbating popular frustration and sense of disenfranchisement. Those landless adults were not an urban proletariat. Many were financially successful members of the commercial middle and upper classes.

The legislature stubbornly refused to drop the property requirement or to reapportion itself. In reaction, a popular movement, headed by Dorr, developed sufficient mass and political coherence to generate its own constitutional convention in 1841. The convention proposed a new constitution that extended the right to vote to adult white males without a property ownership requirement. It also reapportioned the legislature. This “People’s Constitution” was approved in December 1841 by an overwhelming majority of voters qualified under the new standard, as well as by a majority of voters who met the existing charter’s freehold qualifications.

Both factions held elections in April 1842 for a new legislature and executive offices. Dorr was elected governor in Providence under the People’s Constitution; Samuel King was re-elected in Newport under the Charter. At that point, the Charter government declared the new political structure illegal. After a failed attack on the state’s armory in Providence, the Dorrite movement collapsed. Dorr left the state. The Charter government proceeded to round up leading Dorrites, especially those who had participated in the Providence fracas. The controversy had run its course, at least as to armed conflict.

Dorr and his followers fervently justified their actions as “peaceable revolution” grounded in popular sovereignty. For them, the people, as the ultimate source of legitimacy for a government resting on consent of the governed, could not be controlled in foundational matters of self-government, not even by existing formal procedures for constitutional change.

That idea had gained currency during the latter part of the 18th century. Thomas Jefferson relied on it in the Declaration of Independence. In 1787, when Anti-Federalists challenged the proposed method of ratification in Article VII of the Constitution as violating the procedure prescribed in the Articles of Confederation, James Madison responded that any such deficiency would be overridden if the people, as the supreme authority, approved the Constitution. James Wilson, another delegate to the 1787 convention, likewise declared to the Pennsylvania ratifying convention that the “people may change the constitutions whenever and however they please. This is a right, of which no positive institution can ever deprive them.”

Those same arguments were made in favor of state constitutional conventions during the Age of Jackson. Their opponents claimed that such unbridled majoritarianism would promote instability, anarchy, and disrespect for the law. If one faction could go outside established forms and legitimize constitutional change simply by rousing a majority of the people to its side, so could any other faction. As Daniel Webster urged, such change must occur through formal procedures and within established channels, lest such unrestrained exercises of popular sovereignty threaten personal liberty and political stability. The debate over what, if any, limits exist to how the consent of the governed can be expressed peacefully when the existing order appears unresponsive to fundamental matters of public concern was not formally settled in Rhode Island in 1842. It remains unresolved today.

 

An expert on constitutional law, and member of the Southwestern Law School faculty, Professor Joerg W. Knipprath has been interviewed by print and broadcast media on a number of related topics ranging from recent U.S. Supreme Court decisions to presidential succession. He has written opinion pieces and articles on business and securities law as well as constitutional issues, and has focused his more recent research on the effect of judicial review on the evolution of constitutional law. He has also spoken on business law and contemporary constitutional issues before professional and community forums, and serves as a Constituting America Fellow.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.