What are debt and expected earnings like for those in non-JD legal education programs?

I recently looked at median debt loads and median earnings for law degree recipients. But the Department of Education data has far more than that.

Non-JD legal education has seen extraordinary growth in the last few years—and it has minimal oversight from the American Bar Association. I’ve wondered about the value proposition of such programs, given what little information we have about them.

The DOE data gives us a few tools to start looking at it. It codes several Classification of Instructional Programs Codes (CIP Codes)—2201 is “Law,” 2202 is “Legal Research & Advanced Professional Studies,” 2203 is “Legal Support Services,” 2299 is “Legal Professions & Studies, Others.” There are other codes that might be law-related (3028 “Dispute Resolution” and 5216 “Taxation” among others), but these CIP Codes include subfields like “Intellectual Property Law” and “Comparative Law.” These map onto the hundreds of non-JD degrees that law schools now offer.

Now, this is all imperfect. Schools may code some of these degrees differently. Some students may pursue these degrees at the same time they pursue a JD, which may skew debt/earnings figures.

But I decided to look at all these CIP Codes for (1) Undergraduate Certificates or Diplomas (specifically, not Bachelor’s Degrees), (2) Post-baccalaureate Certificates, (3) Master’s Degrees, (4) Doctoral Degrees, (5) First Professional Degrees, and (6) Graduate/Professional Certificates. I excluded all 2201 “Law” codes from those in the “Doctoral Degree” or “First Professional Degree” categories, which I included in the recent post and took to be overwhelmingly JDs. From there, I looked at median debt, mean debt, and mean earnings among schools that reported data (a lot did not have reported data). And I included only schools that had a law school. Admittedly, some of these law-related degrees could be run out of the undergraduate or another professional school (particularly 2203 codes). But I still think it’s worth considering non-JD legal education generally at institutions with a law school, even if it’s not all housed within the law school.

Whew. With all those caveats (ed.: so will this even tell us anything?), here we go. The CIPCode is on the left if you want to refer back to it. (Due to size of chart, results may be best viewed on a desktop or on a phone turned sideways.)

CIPCode	Undergraduate Cert. or Diploma	Median Debt	Mean Debt	Median Earnings
2203	Hofstra Univ.	$4,250	$5,535	$40,500
2203	Liberty Univ.	$9,500	$10,802	$29,700
2203	Hamline Univ.	$18,250	$18,726	$42,500
2203	Tulane Univ. of Louisiana	$32,121	$32,076	n/a
2203	Widener Univ.	n/a	$11,989	n/a
2201	Florida Coastal Sch. of Law	n/a	n/a	$22,900
CIPCode	Post-baccalaureat Cert.	Median Debt	Mean Debt	Median Earnings
2203	Loyola Univ. Chicago	$12,500	$15,021	$41,000
2203	Univ. of Richmond	n/a	$14,099	n/a
CIPCode	Master's Degree	Median Debt	Mean Debt	Median Earnings
2202	Temple Univ.	$34,500	$46,331	$65,300
2299	West Virginia Univ.	$34,694	$32,719	n/a
2202	Univ. of Maryland, Baltimore	$36,549	$36,474	n/a
2203	George Washington Univ.	$40,917	$40,941	$54,500
2299	Stevenson Univ.	$41,000	$38,816	$57,200
2202	Seton Hall Univ.	$41,000	$40,013	$94,300
2202	Widener Univ.	$41,000	$42,780	$58,400
2299	Regent Univ.	$41,000	$45,164	n/a
2201	St. Mary's Univ.	$41,000	$48,363	n/a
2202	Univ. of Florida	$41,776	$54,464	$82,000
2201	Northeastern Univ.	$41,963	$40,571	n/a
2202	Univ. of Tulsa	$42,331	$47,479	$49,300
2202	The Univ. of Alabama	$43,300	$58,033	$89,500
2202	Univ. of Washington-Seattle Campus	$47,104	$69,719	$71,300
2202	Univ. of Houston	$49,748	$49,397	$46,000
2202	Arizona State Univ.-Tempe	$49,843	$58,925	$45,000
2202	Arizona State Univ.-Downtown Phoenix	$49,843	$58,925	$45,000
2202	Loyola Univ. Chicago	$50,390	$53,258	$91,400
2202	Southern Methodist Univ.	$52,305	$66,438	n/a
2202	Nova Southeastern Univ.	$54,664	$59,097	$72,300
2202	Washington Univ. in St Louis	$54,824	$59,043	n/a
2299	Drexel Univ.	$55,518	$51,834	n/a
2299	Northwestern Univ.	$57,530	$65,664	n/a
2202	Univ. of San Diego	$58,842	$102,331	$73,500
2202	Emory Univ.	$60,106	$72,124	$61,200
2202	American Univ.	$63,164	$75,197	$58,900
2202	St John's Univ.-New York	$65,187	$73,475	$22,800
2201	Stetson Univ.	$65,823	$103,025	$52,700
2202	Univ. of Southern California	$66,221	$61,765	n/a
2202	Boston Univ.	$67,467	$65,399	$99,200
2202	Univ. of Missouri-Columbia	$67,831	$69,838	n/a
2202	George Washington Univ.	$69,520	$65,770	$77,800
2201	Liberty Univ.	$71,534	$77,325	$36,200
2202	Vermont Law Sch.	$74,768	$111,137	$48,800
2202	Univ. of Miami	$77,634	$102,398	$52,000
2202	Univ. of Denver	$82,000	$121,430	$52,200
2202	Georgetown Univ.	$85,716	$97,566	$110,200
2299	New York Univ.	$85,964	$76,299	$123,200
2299	Univ. of Washington-Seattle Campus	$109,707	$108,071	n/a
2202	The John Marshall Law Sch.	$137,165	$147,635	$72,100
2202	Duke Univ.	$170,276	$164,470	$133,200
2202	Univ. of Georgia	n/a	$32,947	n/a
2202	Florida International Univ.	n/a	$37,821	n/a
2201	Thomas Jefferson Sch. of Law	n/a	$38,367	n/a
2202	California Western Sch. of Law	n/a	$39,374	n/a
2202	Univ. of Oklahoma-Norman Campus	n/a	$41,039	n/a
2201	Univ. of Houston	n/a	$41,104	n/a
2299	Univ. of Arizona	n/a	$41,691	n/a
2299	Arizona State Univ.-Tempe	n/a	$45,168	n/a
2299	Arizona State Univ.-Downtown Phoenix	n/a	$45,168	n/a
2202	Southern Illinois Univ.-Carbondale	n/a	$46,797	n/a
2201	Univ. of the Pacific	n/a	$46,847	n/a
2202	Drexel Univ.	n/a	$48,720	n/a
2201	Wake Forest Univ.	n/a	$49,113	n/a
2299	Univ. of Baltimore	n/a	$53,544	n/a
2202	St. Thomas Univ.	n/a	$56,204	n/a
2202	Tulane Univ. of Louisiana	n/a	$57,043	n/a
2202	Univ. of California-Los Angeles	n/a	$58,858	n/a
2202	Cleveland State Univ.	n/a	$59,314	n/a
2202	Yeshiva Univ.	n/a	$62,442	n/a
2202	Univ. of California-Berkeley	n/a	$64,460	n/a
2201	Loyola Marymount Univ.	n/a	$66,094	n/a
2299	Yeshiva Univ.	n/a	$69,700	n/a
2202	Columbia Univ. in the City of New York	n/a	$77,468	n/a
2202	Golden Gate Univ.-San Francisco	n/a	$82,001	n/a
2299	Univ. of Denver	n/a	$83,102	n/a
2202	Univ. of Missouri-Kansas City	n/a	$84,878	n/a
2202	Univ. of Nevada-Las Vegas	n/a	$85,383	n/a
2201	Univ. of Florida	n/a	$86,052	n/a
2202	Univ. of St Thomas	n/a	$90,741	n/a
2202	Lewis & Clark Coll.	n/a	$92,860	n/a
2202	Univ. of San Francisco	n/a	$93,665	n/a
2202	Loyola Marymount Univ.	n/a	$129,372	n/a
CIPCode	Doctoral Degree	Median Debt	Mean Debt	Median Earnings
2202	Suffolk Univ.	n/a	$105,158	n/a
CIPCode	First Prof. Degree	Median Debt	Mean Debt	Median Earnings
2299	Univ. of Baltimore	$39,950	$36,087	n/a
2299	Regent Univ.	$45,000	$57,134	$44,000
2299	Fordham Univ.	$64,114	$68,720	n/a
2202	Northwestern Univ.	$71,667	$69,973	$96,400
2202	W. Mich. Univ.-Thomas M. Cooley Law Sch.	$130,683	$136,168	$54,500
2202	Vermont Law Sch.	$144,363	$141,223	$45,400
2202	Georgetown Univ.	$146,758	$136,871	$71,200
2202	Georgia State Univ.	n/a	$26,063	n/a
2202	Florida State Univ.	n/a	$30,052	n/a
2202	Univ. of Connecticut	n/a	$39,025	n/a
2202	Fordham Univ.	n/a	$72,230	n/a
2202	Louisiana State Univ. & Ag. & Mech. Coll.	n/a	$93,265	n/a
2202	Golden Gate Univ.-San Francisco	n/a	$99,851	$66,100
2202	Chapman Univ.	n/a	$119,306	n/a
CIPCode	Graduate/Prof. Certificate	Median Debt	Mean Debt	Median Earnings
2203	Univ. of San Diego	$14,654	$15,197	$40,600
2203	Univ. of California-Los Angeles	$16,000	$13,460	$43,500
2203	George Washington Univ.	$28,367	$33,918	n/a
2299	Univ. of Southern California	$122,693	$120,582	$88,600
2299	Tulane Univ. of Louisiana	$128,507	$128,495	$58,700
2201	Oklahoma City Univ.	$132,586	$124,086	$42,900
2202	Univ. of Southern California	n/a	$57,669	n/a
2202	Indiana Univ.-Purdue Univ.-Indianapolis	n/a	$88,775	n/a
2202	Tulane Univ. of Louisiana	n/a	$135,734	n/a
2299	St. Thomas Univ.	n/a	$144,110	n/a

Which law schools have the best and worst debt-to-income ratios among recent graduates?

The Wall Street Journal recently highlighted data disclosures from the Department of Education concerning debt and income outcomes of graduates across a variety of metrics—institutions, majors, degrees, and so on. One intriguing figure is the “debt-to-income” ratio, or how much student debt recent graduates have compared to their earnings. Lower is better. (A slightly better way is to calculate what percentage of your monthly paycheck is required to service your monthly debt payment, or the debt-service-to-monthly-income ratio, but this gives a good idea of the relationship between debt and income.)

I took the raw data file and pulled out all domestic schools that had a concentration in “law” for a “doctoral degree” or “first professional degree.” I then compared the median debt load to the median earnings figures. The Department of Education site defines these figures as follows:

Field of Study Median Earnings

The median annual earnings of individuals who received federal financial aid during their studies and completed an award at the indicated field of study. To be included in the median earnings calculation, the individuals needed to be working and not enrolled in school during in the year when earnings are measured. Median earnings are measured in the first full year after the student completed their award.

These data are based on school-reported information about students' program of completion. The U.S. Department of Education Department cannot fully confirm the completeness of these reported data for this school.

For schools with multiple locations, this information is based on all of their locations.

Field of Study Median Total Debt

The median federal loan debt accumulated at the school by student borrowers of federal loans (William D. Ford Federal Direct Loan Program, the Federal Family Education Loan Program, and Graduate PLUS Loans) who completed an award at the indicated field of study. Non-federal loans, Perkins loans, and federal loans not made to students (e.g., parents borrowing from the federal Parent PLUS loan program) are not included in the calculation. Only loans made at the same academic level as the award conferred are included (e.g., undergraduate loans are not included in the median debt calculation for graduate credential levels). Note that this debt metric only includes loans originated at this school, so this metric should be interpreted as the typical debt level for attending this school alone, not necessarily the typical total debt to obtain a credential for students who transfer from another school. For schools with multiple locations, this information is based on all of their locations.

These data are based on school-reported information about students' program of completion. The U.S. Department of Education Department cannot fully confirm the completeness of these reported data for this school.

That means debt loads can of course be higher if undergraduate loans were factored in. These count Academic Year 2015-2016 & 2016-2017 figures.

A number of elite schools are near the top—despite their high debt levels, they translate into high median incomes among their graduates. A number of lower-cost schools also fare well near the top.

A good rule of thumb is that “manageable” debt loads are those where debt is about equal to expected income at graduation—i.e., a ratio of 1.00 or lower. Only 11 schools meet that definition among median debt and earnings, and a few others are close. Many are significantly higher than that.

Of course, medians are likely skewed in other ways—the highest-earning graduates likely received the largest scholarships and, accordingly, graduated with the lowest debt. But, the figures are below. I sort by the lowest (i.e., best) debt-to-income ratio. (Due to size of chart, results may be best viewed on a desktop or on a phone turned sideways.)

School	Debt-to-Income Ratio	Median Debt	Median Income
Stanford Univ.	0.77	$120,410	$156,700
Harvard Univ.	0.84	$133,617	$158,200
Duke Univ.	0.85	$138,000	$162,200
Univ. of Pennsylvania	0.86	$149,729	$175,100
Univ. of Chicago	0.86	$146,806	$170,500
Cornell Univ.	0.88	$153,937	$175,200
Northwestern Univ.	0.91	$156,418	$171,900
Brigham Young Univ.-Provo	0.91	$51,250	$56,200
Columbia Univ. in the City of New York	0.92	$165,314	$180,300
Yale Univ.	0.98	$126,398	$128,900
Univ. of Iowa	0.99	$62,249	$62,700
Univ. of Connecticut	1.01	$69,085	$68,600
Washington Univ. in St Louis	1.02	$81,500	$79,800
Univ. of Virginia-Main	1.05	$158,376	$151,500
New York Univ.	1.05	$183,857	$175,800
Univ. of Wisconsin-Madison	1.10	$61,500	$56,000
Georgia State Univ.	1.11	$69,200	$62,400
Univ. of California-Berkeley	1.12	$151,136	$135,400
Temple Univ.	1.14	$69,583	$61,300
Boston Coll.	1.14	$100,594	$88,300
Univ. of Michigan-Ann Arbor	1.14	$145,182	$126,800
Wayne State Univ.	1.16	$67,640	$58,300
The Univ. of Tennessee-Knoxville	1.16	$61,500	$53,000
Univ. of Nebraska-Lincoln	1.16	$59,124	$50,900
Texas Tech Univ.	1.16	$70,006	$60,200
The Univ. of Texas at Austin	1.18	$106,598	$90,100
Vanderbilt Univ.	1.19	$129,030	$108,800
Univ. of Arkansas	1.19	$61,500	$51,700
Mitchell Hamline Sch. of Law	1.21	$64,429	$53,200
Univ. of California-Los Angeles	1.26	$121,453	$96,600
Univ. of North Dakota	1.26	$61,500	$48,800
Univ. of Kansas	1.27	$66,415	$52,100
Univ. of Kentucky	1.28	$69,860	$54,400
Univ. of Mississippi	1.32	$64,300	$48,700
The Univ. of Alabama	1.33	$68,992	$51,900
Purdue Univ. Global-Davenport	1.34	$76,508	$57,300
Univ. of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign	1.34	$90,928	$67,700
Univ. of Houston	1.36	$92,067	$67,600
Boston Univ.	1.37	$110,891	$81,200
Baylor Univ.	1.37	$91,401	$66,800
Univ. of Utah	1.38	$79,768	$57,800
Univ. of Hawaii at Manoa	1.39	$77,849	$56,200
Univ. of Oklahoma-Norman	1.39	$74,250	$53,600
Louisiana State Univ. & Ag. & Mech. Coll.	1.41	$71,422	$50,600
CUNY Sch. of Law	1.43	$78,224	$54,800
Univ. of Nevada-Las Vegas	1.43	$94,197	$65,900
Univ. of Georgia	1.43	$82,480	$57,600
Univ. of Missouri-Columbia	1.45	$71,603	$49,500
Univ. of Southern California	1.45	$129,223	$89,300
Villanova Univ.	1.47	$83,761	$56,900
Univ. of Tulsa	1.48	$75,326	$50,800
Univ. of Florida	1.49	$84,508	$56,900
Univ. of California-Davis	1.49	$99,716	$67,100
Quinnipiac Univ.	1.51	$82,000	$54,300
Washington & Lee Univ.	1.52	$97,276	$64,200
Fordham Univ.	1.53	$151,250	$99,000
Univ. of Arizona	1.53	$81,178	$52,900
The Univ. of Montana	1.54	$76,666	$49,900
Univ. of Cincinnati-Main	1.55	$76,173	$49,300
Indiana Univ.-Bloomington	1.55	$85,162	$55,100
Rutgers Univ.-New Brunswick	1.55	$82,000	$53,000
Georgetown Univ.	1.56	$163,688	$105,000
Univ. of South Dakota	1.61	$79,143	$49,200
Univ. of Wyoming	1.62	$84,032	$52,000
West Virginia Univ.	1.65	$84,227	$51,100
Univ. of Arkansas at Little Rock	1.65	$77,208	$46,800
Coll. of William & Mary	1.65	$98,700	$59,800
Case Western Reserve Univ.	1.65	$82,570	$50,000
Univ. of Memphis	1.66	$76,622	$46,200
Arizona State Univ.-Tempe	1.66	$94,325	$56,800
Massachusetts Sch. of Law	1.67	$75,467	$45,300
Duquesne Univ.	1.67	$84,428	$50,600
Ohio State Univ.-Main	1.67	$97,238	$58,100
Yeshiva Univ.	1.68	$111,031	$66,000
Cleveland State Univ.	1.68	$83,868	$49,800
Washburn Univ.	1.68	$82,194	$48,800
Univ. of New Mexico-Main	1.69	$83,999	$49,600
Pace Univ.	1.69	$102,821	$60,700
Univ. of St Thomas	1.70	$84,261	$49,600
St John's Univ.-New York	1.71	$112,662	$65,900
George Mason Univ.	1.71	$114,383	$66,900
Northern Kentucky Univ.	1.71	$79,951	$46,700
Concordia Univ.-Portland	1.72	$93,755	$54,500
Florida State Univ.	1.73	$81,159	$47,000
Univ. of Notre Dame	1.73	$130,589	$75,500
Univ. of Washington-Seattle	1.74	$109,405	$63,000
Univ. at Buffalo	1.75	$90,928	$52,100
Univ. of California-Irvine	1.75	$119,986	$68,700
Univ. of Akron Main	1.75	$73,756	$42,200
Michigan State Univ.-Coll. of Law	1.75	$90,674	$51,700
Univ. of Oregon	1.76	$88,306	$50,300
Drexel Univ.	1.76	$87,864	$49,800
Univ. of New Hampshire-Main	1.77	$89,700	$50,800
Univ. of Idaho	1.77	$85,550	$48,400
Illinois Institute of Technology	1.77	$104,921	$59,300
Southern Methodist Univ.	1.78	$134,484	$75,600
Univ. of Colorado Boulder	1.80	$101,626	$56,600
Univ. of Southern Maine	1.80	$94,364	$52,300
Humphreys Univ.-Stockton & Modesto	1.81	$89,317	$49,400
Brooklyn Law Sch.	1.81	$119,909	$66,100
Univ. of Richmond	1.82	$97,625	$53,500
Northern Illinois Univ.	1.85	$83,660	$45,200
Syracuse Univ.	1.86	$106,000	$57,000
Univ. of Minnesota-Twin Cities	1.92	$112,603	$58,700
Univ. of North Carolina at Chapel Hill	1.94	$107,059	$55,300
Emory Univ.	1.97	$131,738	$66,800
Univ. of Toledo	1.99	$81,546	$41,000
Pennsylvania State Univ.-Dickinson Law	2.00	$96,321	$48,200
Pennsylvania State Univ.-Main	2.00	$96,321	$48,200
Univ. of Missouri-Kansas City	2.02	$99,005	$49,000
Indiana Univ.-Purdue Univ.-Indianapolis	2.02	$109,422	$54,100
Univ. of California-Hastings Coll. of Law	2.04	$137,787	$67,600
Saint Louis Univ.	2.04	$106,638	$52,200
Albany Law Sch.	2.05	$110,549	$53,900
Wake Forest Univ.	2.05	$113,656	$55,400
Univ. of Baltimore	2.07	$109,510	$52,800
Northeastern Univ.	2.08	$107,082	$51,600
Univ. of South Carolina-Columbia	2.11	$102,007	$48,300
Univ. of Maryland Baltimore	2.13	$118,155	$55,400
Univ. of Pittsburgh-Pittsburgh	2.15	$101,186	$47,100
Florida International Univ.	2.16	$104,971	$48,600
Univ. of San Diego	2.16	$134,348	$62,100
Tulane Univ. of Louisiana	2.16	$122,886	$56,800
Gonzaga Univ.	2.18	$109,362	$50,200
New England Law-Boston	2.19	$109,422	$50,000
Southern Illinois Univ.-Carbondale	2.19	$98,215	$44,800
Loyola Univ. Chicago	2.19	$141,244	$64,400
George Washington Univ.	2.20	$163,300	$74,300
St. Mary's Univ.	2.20	$102,500	$46,600
Univ. of Louisville	2.21	$94,503	$42,800
Texas A & M Univ.-Coll. Station	2.23	$119,803	$53,800
Drake Univ.	2.24	$116,863	$52,200
Loyola Marymount Univ.	2.26	$144,200	$63,700
Seton Hall Univ.	2.28	$126,050	$55,200
Univ. of Massachusetts-Dartmouth	2.30	$102,500	$44,500
South Texas Coll. of Law Houston	2.33	$132,415	$56,900
Belmont Univ.	2.34	$120,498	$51,400
Santa Clara Univ.	2.43	$160,558	$66,200
Catholic Univ. of America	2.43	$142,868	$58,900
Suffolk Univ.	2.45	$129,384	$52,900
North Carolina Central Univ.	2.47	$94,358	$38,200
Ohio Northern Univ.	2.52	$100,224	$39,800
DePaul Univ.	2.54	$132,803	$52,200
Southern Univ. & A & M Coll.	2.59	$95,437	$36,800
Southern Univ. Law Center	2.59	$95,437	$36,800
Chapman Univ.	2.61	$148,852	$57,100
Roger Williams Univ.	2.61	$123,384	$47,300
Roger Williams Univ. Sch. of Law	2.61	$123,384	$47,300
Univ. of Denver	2.61	$143,792	$55,000
Regent Univ.	2.62	$118,275	$45,200
Pepperdine Univ.	2.63	$161,300	$61,400
Florida Ag. & Mech. Univ.	2.69	$105,703	$39,300
Hofstra Univ.	2.70	$148,342	$55,000
Touro Coll.	2.70	$150,767	$55,800
Lewis & Clark Coll.	2.76	$134,180	$48,700
Widener Univ.	2.76	$134,806	$48,900
Stetson Univ.	2.78	$137,217	$49,300
Creighton Univ.	2.78	$132,800	$47,700
Western New England Univ.	2.80	$129,662	$46,300
New York Law Sch.	2.82	$167,078	$59,300
Capital Univ.	2.82	$129,089	$45,800
Univ. of Dayton	2.86	$120,274	$42,000
Western State Coll. of Law at Argosy Univ.	2.87	$114,795	$40,000
Argosy Univ.-Orange County	2.87	$114,795	$40,000
Univ. of Miami	2.90	$150,896	$52,100
Marquette Univ.	2.90	$154,154	$53,100
Seattle Univ.	2.96	$155,575	$52,600
Howard Univ.	2.97	$156,563	$52,800
Univ. of the Pacific	2.99	$158,437	$53,000
Samford Univ.	3.02	$135,438	$44,800
Mississippi Coll.	3.04	$128,722	$42,300
Mercer Univ.	3.05	$140,818	$46,200
Nova Southeastern Univ.	3.09	$161,219	$52,100
California Western Sch. of Law	3.10	$147,095	$47,500
Loyola Univ. New Orleans	3.12	$130,522	$41,800
Texas Southern Univ.	3.17	$117,935	$37,200
American Univ.	3.20	$177,226	$55,300
Trinity Law Sch.	3.21	$133,925	$41,700
Trinity International Univ.-Illinois	3.21	$133,925	$41,700
Univ. of Detroit Mercy	3.21	$149,993	$46,700
The John Marshall Law Sch.	3.25	$154,079	$47,400
Campbell Univ.	3.36	$144,330	$43,000
Willamette Univ.	3.43	$154,190	$45,000
Lincoln Memorial Univ.	3.46	$91,323	$26,400
Charleston Sch. of Law	3.62	$154,378	$42,700
Univ. of San Francisco	3.63	$195,820	$53,900
Appalachian Sch. of Law	3.74	$117,964	$31,500
Valparaiso Univ.	3.78	$139,821	$37,000
Univ. of La Verne	3.81	$140,182	$36,800
St. Thomas Univ.	3.82	$149,322	$39,100
Inter American Univ. of Puerto Rico-Sch. of Law	3.84	$99,403	$25,900
Ave Maria Sch. of Law	3.89	$158,206	$40,700
Arizona Summit Law Sch.	4.16	$188,191	$45,200
Elon Univ.	4.23	$160,285	$37,900
Golden Gate Univ.-San Francisco	4.24	$166,264	$39,200
Southwestern Law Sch.	4.30	$193,653	$45,000
Western Mich. Univ.-Thomas M. Cooley Law Sch.	4.50	$162,011	$36,000
Atlanta's John Marshall Law Sch.	4.60	$177,854	$38,700
Savannah Law Sch.	4.60	$177,854	$38,700
Barry Univ.	4.65	$168,309	$36,200
Pontifical Catholic Univ. of Puerto Rico-Ponce	5.09	$97,269	$19,100
Charlotte Sch. of Law	5.11	$188,985	$37,000
Thomas Jefferson Sch. of Law	5.24	$195,892	$37,400
Whittier Coll.	5.31	$196,008	$36,900
Florida Coastal Sch. of Law	5.63	$198,655	$35,300
John F. Kennedy Univ.	6.45	$116,722	$18,100

Trump matches Obama's appellate judicial appointment total in just 2 years, 10 months

The confirmation of Barbara Lagoa to the Eleventh Circuit today was President Donald Trump’s 48th appointment to the federal appellate bench.

Excluding the Federal Circuit,* President Barack Obama appointed 48 federal appellate judges in his entire eight years in office. Mr. Trump has appointed 48 federal appellate judges in just 2 years, 10 months.

There are several overlapping reasons why Mr. Trump has been able to accomplish this.

Senate priorities. This is not only Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell making it a priority to confirm judges. It’s also the fact that the Senate has precious few other priorities at the moment. The Democratic-controlled House is not passing legislation designed for the Republican-controlled Senate to enact or that the two could meaningfully compromise on. That leaves one-chamber activity in the Senate the most useful path forward.

Less emphasis on blue slips and home-state deference. This takes a couple of forms. First, the White House is not necessarily deferring to the preferred nominees of home state senators. That can slow the process if senators have a process to review candidates before sending them to the White House, which then must review the candidates and make a nomination. It can also slow the process if there are bipartisan compromises to make. The White House, however, has not been deferring to home-state preferences—at least, not always, and far less with Democratic-controlled Senate delegations. On top of that, the “blue slip” process—where a home-state senator could refuse to approve of a nominee, and the Senate Judiciary Committee had, at times in history, deferred to what effectively amounted to a home-state veto—was shed (for now) for appellate nominees. That not only allows for the Senate as a whole to consider nominees without one state’s senator blocking the process, but it means district court nominees who do face blue slip treatment aren’t being sent to the Senate as a whole—and that means the Senate prioritizes appellate nominees all the more.

Abolishing filibusters. Before 2013, cloture votes for judicial nominees requires a three-fifths vote (60 Senators) in the Senate under Senate rules. In 2013, due to escalating use of the filibuster in judicial nominations, Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid led an interpretation of the rule that effectively abolished the filibuster for lower-court judicial nominees and required a simple majority vote for cloture (follow by a simple majority vote to confirm the nominee). (It also effectively abolished it for executive branch nominees. Mr. McConnell extended the abolition of the filibuster to Supreme Court nominees in 2017.) That has allowed judicial confirmations to occur more easily than in past years.

Lack of ABA deference. The Bush administration refused to pre-screen candidates with the American Bar Association. The Obama administration returned to that practice, and it withdrew candidates the ABA deemed “not qualified.” That resulted in delays for every nomination to go through ABA screening, and it meant that Mr. Obama saw at least 14 nominees rejected by the ABA, then withdrawn internally rather than sent them to the Senate Judiciary Committee. That also meant he had to find new nominees and effectively start the process over again. Without deferring to the ABA, Mr. Trump can move much more quickly. (I’m not convinced the ABA process adds any value.)

Executive priorities. Mr. Obama was criticized for moving very slowly on judicial nominations. In his first nine months in office, for instance, he made just 23 nominations and just three confirmations—only one to the appellate bench. Compare that to President George W. Bush, who had 95 nominations and eight confirmations in his first term. Mr. Obama had other legislative and executive priorities—including addressing the recession, enacting health care legislation, and seeking to shut down Guantanamo Bay—but he also deferred to the ABA and the Senate, which slowed the process further.

Greater number of vacancies. Mr. Obama saw no nominees confirmed in the last year of his presidency—a combination of Mr. McConnell’s “hardball” tactics in the Senate and Mr. Obama’s inability to seek a third term (and make this a salient campaign issue) due to the Twenty-Second Amendment. Mr. Trump certainly entered office with more vacancies than Mr. Obama (but, as noted, Mr. Obama was slow to nominate in the first place). But undoubtedly Mr. Trump also benefits from the timed retirements that have occurred early in his term from Republican-appointed judges taking senior status, including a number of Reagan administration nominees who are quite senior.

In all, then, there are a variety of reasons why appellate judicial confirmations have proceeded at a breakneck clip. It’s a convergence of a number of factors that give us the present federal judiciary. There are actually only a few vacancies on the federal court of appeals left, all with nominees, and all but one almost assured of confirmation in the next couple of months. District court vacancies—due to the blue slip process, the lower priority of Mr. McConnell, and other reasons—remain significant. What the 2020 election cycle will yield, and its impact on the federal judiciary, remains to be seen.

*The Federal Circuit has a unique and narrow jurisdiction compared to the rest of the federal courts of appeals, which are general appellate courts. You may want to include them—President Obama appointed seven to the Federal Circuit (55 counting the 48 other appellate appointments), and President Trump has nominated zero. I exclude them but would not fault you for including them.

What might a constitutional amendment capping the age of the President look like?

I recently published an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal suggesting that we should consider a constitutional amendment capping the age of the president.

Undoubtedly, the decision to amend the Constitution is significant, and the decision to do so by limiting voters’ choices even more so. The Constitution does limit our choices for president, however—there’s an age minimum of 35, the natural born citizen requirement, and the 14-year residency requirement. The 22d Amendment was enacted to forbid candidates who have served two terms (or 10 years’ service) from taking office—even though the people had just elected Franklin Delano Roosevelt to four terms.

But if voters lack adequate information about candidates’ health (as I argue in the piece), and health-related risks increase significantly with age, we may want to cap the age of the president.

Here’s a proposal for a constitutional amendment:

Section 1. No person shall be elected to the office of the President who shall have attained to the age of seventy-five years on the date on which the term of office begins.

In the opinion piece, I offer 70, 75, and 80 as possible benchmarks. I like 75 for a few reasons. First, Ronald Reagan was elected at 69, reelected at 73, and left office at 77. Like a two-term limit patterned after George Washington, an age-related requirement closely mirroring Mr. Reagan has a nice practical background. At 75, it’s a number that nicely mirrors 35. (Okay, so I’m too into the aesthetics….) Finally, it requires a president to leave office before turning 80, which starts to feel (?) like an upper bound.

The amendment is patterned off language in Article II and the 22d Amendment. It would allow a 70-year-old to seek two consecutive terms of office, and a 74-year-old to seek one.

It uses the word “elected,” which means, I think, that a vice president could be older, or someone from the cabinet who ascends to the office of president could be older. It simply means those individuals could not be “elected” to the office of President. And it fixes the date of age at the time the term of office begins.

Of course, such a hard number is going to be overinclusive and underinclusive. But if it’s a matter of risk tolerance, it strikes me that this is a pretty good marker.

Some might point to the extremely short life expectancy at the Founding, but I think those figures are deceptive. Life expectancy was short because of infant mortality. If you made it to the age of 21, your life expectancy, particularly among the upper class, was not much shorter than today. Indeed, among our first several presidents, most died late in life—Mr. Washington at 67, John Adams at 73, Thomas Jefferson at 83, James Madison at 85, James Monroe at 73, and John Quincy Adams at 80.

The requirement would undoubtedly alter how presidential campaigns would run. Candidates would recognize that they have a “window,” one that might “close” if they wait too long. But I think having two generations to seek the office of president is a sufficiently long window for most candidates.

I think the office of President is unique because it is a single-headed executive. It might be, of course, that we have concerns about other federal positions. So here are some proposals to add to this amendment.

Section 2. No person shall be elected to Congress who shall have attained to the age of eighty years.

Section 3. No person shall hold the office of judge of the supreme or inferior courts who has attained to the age of eighty-five years. Any judge holding that office who has attained to the age of eighty-five years shall no longer hold that office.

Section 2 would cap the age of members of Congress. It would serve as a soft term limit—much better than the deeply restrictive suggestions proposed recently of things like two- or three-year limits. In the Senate, a person could be elected at 79 and end the term at 85. In the House, it would be 79 and 81.

Right now, there are just two senators over the age of 85 (Dianne Feinstein and Chuck Grassley) and three others over the age of 80. In the House, there are 9 representatives over the age of 80—some elected as far back as 1973, the most recent elected in 1999. It would effectively offer rotation for some members of the House. It also allows a governor to appoint an over-eighty Senator if a vacancy occurs, consistent with the 17th Amendment—that Senator simply couldn’t be elected. It also reduces vacancies that arise from death given that very senior members would not be serving in Congress.

On the federal judiciary side, many federal judges already go “senior” at the age of 65 or so anyway. It would simply pull those—and all other—judges out of active service at the age of 85, which is fairly late in a career anyway. There are concerns that occasionally arise about the age of district court judges in particular, which this amendment would address. It would also compel retirements of Supreme Court justices upon turning 85 (two current justices are over that age). It might lead to younger-than-ever Supreme Court nominees, or strategic timing of retirements… but let’s face it, those are already occurring.

I’m sure many might quibble or wonder about these precise contours. Or maybe you’ve identified weaknesses I haven’t considered. But these are, I think, worth considering.

In today's WSJ: "No Country for Old Presidents"

In today's Wall Street Journal, I have an opinion piece entitled, “No Country for Old Presidents.” It begins:

Should there be an upper age limit on the presidency? Former New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg, 77, may join a crowded and aging field of candidates. Last month Bernie Sanders, 78, was hospitalized with what the campaign called “chest discomfort” and turned out to be a heart attack. In September 2016, Hillary Clinton, then 68, was privately diagnosed with pneumonia. The campaign concealed the diagnosis until she was caught on camera fainting from dehydration.

Mental health is another concern. “Gaffes” on the campaign trail drive observers to wonder whether the slip-ups reflect a candidate’s age and are a sign of some greater health concern. Voters have no way of knowing.

It concludes:

The Constitution sets a minimum age of 35 to serve as president. Maybe it should be amended to set an upper age limit at 70, 75 or 80. Like the 22nd Amendment limiting presidential terms, such an amendment shouldn’t take effect immediately, lest it affect the outcome of the 2020 race. But it’s worth having a conversation about age for future presidential candidates before an age-related crisis strikes a president.

I’ll have more about what a constitutional amendment might look like soon.

Could we improve the law faculty hiring process through blind reads of scholarship?

On the heels of an idea floated by my colleague Professor Rob Anderson: “Why don’t committees do a blind read of everyone’s stuff before looking at credentials? Yeah it takes resources, but you are making a multi-million $ investment for the next 40 years.”

I’ve thought about this over the last several days and wanted to offer a couple of ideas. These are very much working ideas, so feel free to critique!

Here’s the specific problem I’m trying to solve (and I speak generally, so it may not apply to your particular school, committee, or search!). Too often, at the Association of American Law Schools (AALS) Faculty Recruiting Conference (FCR), faculty hiring decisions at law schools are made by shortcuts. We sift through hundreds of applications between August and October, looking at certain cues like law school attended, academic honors, visiting assistant professor position history, elite clerkships, or other CV items that look like prestige and quality. This often leads to a fairly narrow set of candidates who meet the criteria, and it tends to be those from elite socioeconomic backgrounds. It often demands geographic transience and flexibility from applicants, and it can produce inequalities among candidates that could run along race, sex, or class lines.

But even though schools are looking at these proxies, that’s not what law schools actually desire in candidates. They’re looking for faculty who can write, who can produce and engage in good scholarship. They’re looking for good teachers, who can communicate complicated concepts with clarity to law students. These can be challenges to identify early in one’s career, but that’s what schools are looking to identify.

Many candidates—and perhaps most successful candidates—already have something in the way of scholarship, at least one publication, or even a good draft. After screening interviews in October, that’s what would be used as the “job talk” between October and February. Some schools request that paper between August and October, ahead of the screening interview. And now some applicants can upload that paper with their initial application.

But law schools still primarily filter and screen with these cues or shortcuts first. Reading the scholarship comes later. On top of that, the scholarship is now filtered through the bias of those cues, where readers are inclined to think the work is going to be good because, well, they made it through that filter! And if the article has placed in a sufficiently “prestigious” journal (perhaps even the VAP’s institution’s home journal…) the bias in the reader is increased even more.

So, why not have an opportunity to read scholarship without any of those cues? No resume, no pedigree, no placement information if the article is placed. Just a blind read of articles.

This could take one of two forms.

First, there could be a database, say in July, where prospective academics could upload the article. It would be stripped of their name and whether it was published. Perhaps it would include a few general scholarly fields if schools wanted to winnow their searches. Law school hiring committees could then pull the articles from the database and review them internally. The database would disclose the identity of the author upon request, but not within 14 days of when a law school requested the article (essentially, a forced cool-down period). Schools, now armed with internal blind reviews of scholarship, could identify these candidates in the AALS pool after the FAR distribution occurs.

Second, some volunteer law professors in various fields could offer to do blind review of such articles submitted over the summer. Law professors would assign the article a grade. Articles that “passed,” or that received some sufficiently high enough grade (e.g., 3.5 out of 5 stars) would be publicly identified, with the author. Those with too low a score wouldn’t be identified, which might also mean you simply didn’t submit an article for review.

The second, in some ways, would be something like an NFL “draft grade” for prospective football players leaving college early, where independent evaluators assess their talent and tell them where they’d be projected to go.

The first has the benefit of giving committees the full control over their review processes and needs no recruiting of others to help. The second has the benefit of handling the volume of articles, if many choose to take advantage of the system, and a greater “peer” sentiment.

Of course, these are costly decisions—maybe it’s really all the case that the filtering cues are good at identifying those who go on to be good scholars. Or that it’s not so much that it identifies who good scholars are as it provides a first rough cut, and the material review of scholarship can happen after that first cut.

Really, then, the benefit would be for “diamonds in the rough,” those scholars who lack the pedigree but who may have some real promise as an academic.

It might be that blind scholarship review, especially if it’s gone through a pretty rigorous coaching or polishing through mentors in a VAP or PhD programs, also doesn’t help us a whole lot.

And it might also be the case that it places more pressure on writing something early. But, to be frank, it may be that this ship has sailed, and we really do expect people to have started their writing careers before entering tenure-track academia.

But, here are a couple of potential models. Better than the status quo? One preferable to another? Improvements to be made? A third way?

Does Colorado want to win the state's faithless elector case?

I am reluctant to question the motives of litigators, particular a former law professor (indeed, law dean!) who now serves as the Colorado Attorney General. But I wonder about the state’s recent decision to petition the United States Supreme Court to hear the case arising from the “faithless elector” litigation from the 2016 election.

For background, I covered the earlier litigation here, including the Tenth Circuit’s 2-1 decision finding that Colorado wrongly replaced an elector who attempted to cast a vote for a candidate other than the one he pledged to support before Election Day. The one dissenting judge would have found the claim moot.

There are a number of procedural oddities in the case. For one, Colorado waived sovereign immunity, which seems like a bizarre strategic decision if Colorado wanted to defend the claim.

Colorado also did not argue that the state fell outside the scope of Section 1983 claims, which allows a “person” to be held liable for damages. The majority concluded this claim, too, was “waived.” But if Congress denied a remedy under the statute, a party cannot waive that—the federal judiciary has no power to hear the case.

The dissenting judge pointed out that there was no authority to hear the case. It’s a pretty good argument. So why not take the case to the Tenth Circuit en banc, which may be interested in cleaning up such a conclusion? It would allow Colorado’s faithless elector law to stand.

Indeed, the Eighth Circuit reached a similar result in its claim arising out of a faithless elector in Minnesota—a case the Tenth Circuit never even cited!

So why go to the Supreme Court to argue about the merits of the faithless presidential electors issue? Why do it this way, arguing that the “foundation of our nation is at risk”?

After all, if the Supreme Court looks at this case and sees a moot claim… would it take the case? It’s not clear. The Supreme Court doesn’t just engage in error correction of lower courts. Maybe it would feel compelled to correct the lower court’s decision to avoid the faithless elector precedent from sitting out there. Or, maybe it would simply kick the case because it wasn’t significant enough given the procedural error. (Or, maybe it found no procedural error at all, I suppose!)

I’m not sure why this strategic path was taken. Understandably, the Supreme Court has been asked to hear a challenge in which the Washington Supreme Court upheld fines for three faithless electors in the state—so maybe, I guess, there’s a sense of urgency. It’s easier for the United States Supreme Court to ignore a case that (1) preserves the status quo, (2) affects just one state, and (3) didn’t actually replace an elector. Adding the Colorado case (which found the statute unconstitutional, is precedent for all states in the Tenth Circuit, and actually replaced an elector) is a much riper target to find the state law unconstitutional, the opposite of what defenders of the law would want.

Alternatively, maybe the hope is to resolve this definitively by 2020, and an en banc review may still leave time for review with the United States Supreme Court.

Maybe it’s the juiciness of raising a highly salient election law challenge before the Supreme Court, or maybe it’s a strategic reason I haven’t considered. But it’s a curious one that I thought I’d highlight.

UPDATE: Professor Rick Hasen blogs his thoughts here. He writes: “Here’s one possibility I don’t think Derek covers: Colorado wants definitive Supreme Court precedent allowing states to block faithless electors. If Colorado went to the 10th circuit and won on procedural grounds, that would not resolve the merits of barring faithless electors in the 10th circuit, it would not resolve the issue nationally, and it would make it less likely the Supreme Court would take the Washington case, because there would no longer be a split among the courts.”

Experimentation in reforming legal education

Professor Dan Rodriguez has a terrific and helpful post over at Legal Evolution, Toward evidence-based legal education reform: First, let’s experiment. This comes on the heels of his call for more data to help improve law school decisionmaking.

“Data-driven” is one of the trendiest buzzwords around at the moment, but he points out that we too easily assume the status quo is the most effective form of legal education or that we can’t figure out if it or another form is any good. We need evidence—data, yes, but really means of comparing different kinds of legal education and ascertaining whether one is better than another. I think Professor Rodriguez rightly notes that “internal political difficulty” tends to inhibit experimentation in legal education to a greater degree than accreditation bodies or rankings factors—that is, there’s plenty of flexibility within existing accreditation frameworks that minimally impact USNWR rankings factors, but it’s simply a question of will, desire, priorities, and the like.

One is that this language sounds so scientific, and it may lead to concerns about institutional review board reviews and the like. But as an exchange on Twitter recently illuminated, labeling them “pilot programs” over experimentation or other overly scientific-sounding phrases may help ease some political concerns.

Additionally, I think it’s worth emphasizing that a lot of what we subjectively believe to be “uniform” is not very uniform at all, which opens up opportunities to treating similarly-students differently within appropriate boundaries. There might be concerns about “experimenting” with a 1L section in the legal curriculum, but, really, 1L professors might have vastly different approaches to a theoretically identical subject, including different exam and grading methodology. Willingness to try “pilot programs” among subsets of law students should extend beyond professors’ academic freedom in the classroom, an acknowledged differentiator among similarly-situated sets of students.

Importantly, Professor Rodriguez highlights the randomized nature of such programs. That’s also essential. Many students opt to take certain things, like bar prep classes, clinics, or externships. That self-selection means that we may lose the ability to identify any independent value those programs may have once bias clouds the results—for instance, self-motivated students may opt for a bar prep class over a fellow student with similar grades who lacks the motivation, and it may tell us less (if anything) if the first student passes the bar but the second doesn’t.

In short, it requires political will and time from invested professors to make some of the changes Professor Rodriguez identifies. Unfortunately, it appears little of significant has happened in legal education, even in the face of dropping bar exam pass rates, in recent years. Some schools and some isolated programs may be doing some things, but even those haven’t been deemed so wildly successful that other schools are racing to replicate them. Let’s hope there’s more movement in the years ahead.

Why "faithless electors" have little power to change the winner of presidential elections

Adam Liptak at the New York Times highlights the request for the Supreme Court to consider “faithless” presidential electors from the 2016 presidential election. The headline (not written by Mr. Liptak): “‘Faithless Electors’ Could Tip the 2020 Election. Will the Supreme Court Stop Them?”

It’s not a great headline. Could faithless electors sow chaos and discord into the 2020 presidential election? Certainly. Could they alter the outcome? That’s another matter entirely….

Below is a chart of “faithless” presidential electors since 1900. (This excludes faithless vice-presidential votes.) It’s tough to make apples to apples comparisons much earlier (or, indeed, even before World War I) because states often printed ballots with individual electors, to the extent voter expectation or reliance is a factor. But this nicely covers recent history.

Year	Faithless winners	Faithless losers	Winner's presumptive margin of victory
1948	1	0	37
1956	0	1	191
1960	0	1	34
1968	1	0	32
1972	1	0	251
1976	0	1	27
1988	0	1	156
2000	0	1	1
2004	0	1	16
2016	2	5	36

It’s worth noting that there have been more “faithless” votes cast from losing candidates (11) than winning candidates (5). (If we included the 3 electors who actively attempted to vote for another candidate in 2016 but were replaced or revoted for the pledged candidate, the margin would rise to 14 to 5.) Even excluding 2016, the margin is 6 to 3. (That said, it’s hard to count the likely mistaken vote of a 2004 Minnesota presidential elector for “John Ewards [sic]” as truly “faithless” for the loser. UPDATE: An elector in 1948 was on two separate slates, one for the Democratic candidate and one for the Dixiecrat candidate, and even though the Democratic candidate won he cast hist vote for the Dixiecrat candidate. One can question whether this is “faithless,” too.) Of course, there are perils in such a small sample size. But it reflects that it’s easier for losing slates of presidential electors to protest or make a “statement” with their faithless vote. That is, there’s essentially no cost for electors of losing candidates to behave faithlessly—their candidate was already going to lose. Winning candidates, however, have much more to lose; we might expect electors to take their role more seriously (and faithfully).

Note, too, that the margin of victory can matter. In each race, I list the winning candidate’s presumptive margin of victory (i.e., how many votes the winner could spare to ensure he received a majority of the vote, and presumptive assuming no electors were faithless). Note that a faithless vote in 1972 was comically inconsequential: Nixon had a 251-vote margin of victory. Of course, 2000 is the opposite: George W. Bush could afford just one defection to retain his majority, as he had just 271 electoral votes and needed 270 to win the election. (Professor Robert Alexander has examined efforts from 2000 and beyond to court faithless electors, particularly in close matchups.) The higher the leverage of the situation, the less likely it’d be that an elector would behave faithlessly.

Win. That’s another caveat. If no candidate secures a majority, the top three receiving vote-getters proceed to the House, where the House votes and each state’s delegation receives one vote. That includes a 269-269 tie, which means, with no majority, those two candidates would go to the House.

Another way, then, to think about the faithless electors is to look at who the faithless electors cast their votes for. Did they try to make the second-place vote-getter (the runner-up) win the election? Or did they cast their vote for someone else?

Year	Faithless winners	Faithless votes cast for runner-up	Runner-up's presumptive margin of loss
1948	1	0	-77
1968	1	0	-79
1972	1	0	-253
2016	2	0	-38

Since 1900, exactly zero faithless electors have cast a vote for the runner-up. Faithless electors have cast a vote for a third-party candidate who placed third, or for a marginal candidate who’d otherwise receive zero electoral votes. They have never in recent history attempted to help the runner-up win the election.

Note how this second examination works. Faithless electors could deprive the winner of a majority. But to deprive the winner of the majority, and to give another candidate the majority (i.e., the power to change the winner) is something else altogether. And we have zero instances of any faithless elector ever attempting to do so.

Of course, past performance is no indication of future performance. But it’s another piece in our examination of presidential electors. Faithless electors would’ve needed astonishing coordination to pull off the feat, and they’re unlikely to be so malleable in the future.

It’s entirely possible that very aggressive courting of presidential electors can deny a candidate a majority. But to court them to change the winner? We have no evidence of that from extensive past practices.

Denying the majority to the winner sends the election to the House. In the 1824 election, the only post-12th Amendment election sent to the House, we saw the House choose the second-place vote-getter (John Quincy Adams) when no candidate received a majority of the electoral vote and Andrew Jackson received a plurality of the vote. It’s not clear how the House might handle an election where a candidate had the presumptive edge in the Electoral College and was denied the majority simply by faithless electors—it’s possible the House would play “constitutional hardball” and exercise its independent judgment; but, more likely, I think, is a vote for the presumptive winner to nullify the effect of the faithless electors. I could be wrong.

But, at best, faithless electors have historically sought chaos, not a different winner. I’ve explained some reason why they’ve done so. And I think it’s a reason we wouldn’t expect faithless elector to “tip” a presidential election.