Agency discretion and independence are motifs in all three cases. As obvious as it may sound, agencies are meant to be agents. They don’t carry out their own will; rather, they implement Congress’ commands and assist the president in his constitutional duty to faithfully execute Congress’ laws.
Loper Bright Enterprises v. Raimondo
Loper Bright addresses one source of this discretionary dilemma: Chevron deference. That doctrine, named for the 1984 decision that spawned it, requires courts to defer to any “reasonable” agency interpretation of the ambiguities or silences in a law. In practice, Chevron deference enables agencies to often overstep their authority by treating vague language or doubtful gaps in a statute as authorization for actions that the agencies favor but which Congress never intended.In Loper Bright, the National Marine Fisheries Service read one such doubtful gap into the Magnuson-Stevens Fishery Conservation and Management Act and “discovered” a previously unknown power to require small fishing vessels to pay for their federally mandated at-sea monitors who enforce restrictions on methods and amounts of fishing.
To avoid that crippling financial burden, the fishermen argue that Chevron deference lets agencies steal the courts’ power to say what the law is and Congress’ power to write laws, leaving citizens subject to regulators’ whims. Therefore, they contend that the court should overrule Chevron or drastically constrain its application.
Increasingly, the Supreme Court has invoked the nondeferential “major questions” doctrine (which requires agencies to identify a clear congressional statement authorizing decisions of substantial political and economic import) to displace Chevron deference in the most significant controversies such as the COVID-19 vaccine mandate, the eviction moratorium during the pandemic, and (to a lesser extent) the administration’s attempt at student loan cancellation.
Securities and Exchange Commission v. Jarkesy
Loper Bright will have major implications for citizens fighting administrative agencies in courts, but it won’t have much of an effect if citizens can’t get their cases into courts. Agencies prosecute many of their cases before tribunals within the agencies themselves. There, agency employees called administrative law judges decide those cases in the first instance, and other judge employees hear appeals.They also argued that Congress gave the agency too much discretion to choose whether to bring cases to courts or to administrative law judges. Under a seldom-enforced rule called the nondelegation doctrine, Congress can’t give an agency power without setting “intelligible” limits on how the agency can use it. Here, the defendants argued, Congress set no limits at all on the SEC’s ability to decide where to send its enforcement cases.
If, on the other hand, the defendants win their nondelegation claim, the future of agency tribunals would be in more doubt. Besides the SEC, would other agency administrative law judges be implicated? Would administrative law judges be off limits to agencies until Congress amends their statutes? If not, when could agencies use them? These are all questions that need answers.
Consumer Financial Protection Bureau v. Community Financial Services Association of America
While agencies often try to make themselves self-contained governments, sometimes Congress lends them a hand. The Consumer Financial Protection Bureau (CFPB) is the most dramatic example. When Congress created the bureau in 2010, it did everything it could to make sure that the CFPB answered to no one but itself.Relevant to this lawsuit, Congress created an unusual funding mechanism for the CFPB. Whereas most agencies receive their money from congressional appropriations, the CFPB gets to take as much money as it wants (subject to a loose cap) directly from the Federal Reserve.
The CFPB’s challengers—businesses subject to the CFPB’s payday lending rule—allege that the agency’s funding mechanism violates the Constitution’s appropriations clause. That clause says that no money may be drawn from the Treasury except through congressional appropriations. The challengers argue that the CFPB’s choose-your-own-funding scheme isn’t an appropriation within the meaning of that clause. The CFPB retorts that the clause is satisfied because Congress created the scheme.
The challengers have the better argument. The appropriations clause is an indispensable bulwark of the Constitution’s separation of powers that the 111th Congress deliberately sought to avoid when it created the CFPB.
But lurking in the background of this debate over constitutional meaning is another about practical effects. Other agencies have similar, albeit not identical, funding mechanisms, including the Federal Reserve itself. A ruling against the CFPB might undermine those agencies, too, unless the court can draw a legally salient distinction.
Regardless, if the CFPB loses, then everything the agency has done since it was created will be vulnerable to constitutional challenge. For the CFPB to continue operating, Congress will have to step in and reattach a leash to the agency that it really wanted to set free.
These three cases remind us how excessive judicial deference coupled with congressional laziness has created our all-powerful administrative state. Loper Bright gives the court an opportunity to fix its mistake, and the other two cases give it an opportunity to wake Congress up with the only thing that might do the trick: a judicial slap in the face.