Legal Theory Lexicon: Hypotheticals
Introduction
The hypothetical (or "hypo") is so familiar to anyone who has received a legal education in the United States that you might ask, "Can there possibly be anything of theoretical interest in the hypothetical?" And in the same vein, "We all know what hypos are."
The purpose of this post is to reflect on the "hypothetical," with the
special purpose of equipping law students with an interest in legal
theory for the task of thinking rigorous and analytically about
hypotheticals, what they are, what they can and can't accomplish, how
to construct them, and how to maneuver around them.
What is a hypothetical?
Merriam-Webster defines hypothetical as "being or involving a hypothesis : CONJECTURAL," and hypothesis
as "an assumption or concession made for the sake of argument" or "a
tentative assumption made in order to draw out and test its logical or
empirical consequences," from the Greek from hypotithenai, "to put under."
In
American law schools, the pure hypothetical is a counterfactual
variation on the fact pattern of an actual case. The hypothetical plays
an important role in the Socratic style of law school teaching.
Here is a very simple example. If the actual case involved a
contract between Ben and Alice, in which Alice agreed in writing to fix
Ben's roof, and Ben agreed to pay Alice $100, Alice did not perform,
and Ben had to pay $200 to another roofer, we might get hypos like the
following:
- What if the agreement had been oral instead of in writing?
- What if the contract price had been $300?
- What if Alice had been a minor?
- What if the contract had not specified a price?
- What if Alice did the job, but the roof still leaked?
- And so on.
The Purposes of Hypotheticals
Why do law professors use hypotheticals?
- As a tool for the explication of legal doctrine.
- As a tool for exploring the moral underpinnings of legal rules
- As a tool for exploring the consequences of legal rules.
Law students quickly become familiar with the first of the three
kinds of hypotheticals. They read a case and learn a rule. The
professor then poses hypothetical variations on the case to test the
student's knowledge of the rule. Typically, the hypo is followed with a
question like, "What result?" But legal education is also about the
normative analysis of legal doctrine, and hypotheticals can also be
used to explore our intuitions about the morality of the law. Such
hypos are frequently end with, "What should the result be?" And the
follow-up question, "That's the rule, but do you think that is the right
result?" Finally, contemporary legal education incorporates a healthy
dose of economic analysis. So, we can add information about prices to
hypos and then ask what consequences a rule will produce if the various
actors are "rational" in the economic sense.
"Beware the hypothetical, my son. The laws that catch, the facts that bite."
Hypos
can be fun, but many law students don't have a good time, when they are
led to contradict themselves by a series of hypos. Having learned not
to contradict yourself, you may then find that by remaining consistent,
you can be led, step by step, to an answer that is consistent but
absurd. If you can adopt a Zen-like attitude to this process, there is nothing wrong with going along for the ride.
Socratic dialog is not a game, and law professors actually need
students to make certain common mistakes in order to get certain points
across. However, there are a number of techniques that law students can learn to become more effective at the hypothetical game.
Lesson Number One: Fight the hypothetical, lose the war!
The
first and most important lesson to learn about hypotheticals is that
you can't get anywhere by fighting the set up. (I will modify this rule
of thumb later on.) One of the first ways that law students begin to
fight back against hypotheticals to resist the "hypothesis." One way to
do this is to fight the facts. "That wouldn't happen." Or "In the real
world, it would happen differently." Fighting the facts only delays the
inevitable. At the worst, you simply get asked the same question again,
"O.K., but for the sake of argument, assume these facts." At the best,
you get another version of the same hypo that works around your factual
objection." As a general rule, don't fight the facts.
Lesson Number Two: Watch for Slippery Slopes
Every
law student learns to recognize the following pattern: the Professor
starts with a fact pattern, where the conclusion is obvious. Then one
fact is varied by degrees. There doesn't seem to be an logical stopping
point, so if the student wants to be consistent, they are lead to an
absurd conclusion. We have a contract between Alice and Ben. Is $100
valid consideration? $10? $1. 1 cent? A peppercorn? Half a peppercorn?
1/100th of a peppercorn? A speck of dust. The atoms that are expelled
when Ben says, I agree? You are on a slippery slope, and you
desperately want to get off! Usually, you will realize that you are on
the slippery slope early on in the sequence of questions. Here are some
ways to get off: (1) Say, "I see were are on a slippery slope here."
Then just go along for the ride, and when you read the bottom, just
say, "Well, I see we are at the bottom of the slippery slope now!" You are playing along with the game, but also showing that you are smart enough to see what is happening.
Or (2) When you start to feel a twinge about the hypo, say, "My answer
is still "Yes, but we are starting to enter the gray zone." (If you
want to be fancy, say ". . . but we are starting to enter the penumbra
of the rule." When you think that you've hit a truly hard case, say
"Now, we are definitely in the gray zone. It's really a judgment call
which could go either way." And then when you get to the bottom of the
slippery slope, you can say, "Now, it's clear, the answer is no." This
second strategy is simply the way to make the point that there are
lot's of legal rules that require a "Yes" or "No" answer (they are
bivalent), when the real world is a matter of degrees. Slippery slope
hypos are simply the law professor's way of getting you to see this
phenomenon.
Lesson Number Three: Watch Out for Cold Rules and Hot Facts
This
is a favorite law professor trick. You take a case where the rule is
settled, and then come up with facts that have accidental features that
make the application of the rule morally unattractive. "Starving
babies" are a common device. But should Alice have to pay Ben damages
if Alice has a "starving baby!" Of course not, you say to
yourself, but in fact whether or not Alice's baby is hungry is probably
irrelevant to the legal question whether Alice is liable to Ben for
breach of contract. Again, there are several ways to play this. Here is
the simplest: (1) Simply point out the divergence between your legal
and moral intuitions. "Well, morally speaking, it seems repugnant to
make Alice pay, but I don't see how her financial needs provide her
with a legal defense." Here is another alternative: (2) Try to find the
legal category that fits your moral intuition. In criminal law, the
moral problem may provide the basis for a defense of "necessity."
Obviously, these two strategies can be combined: "Well, morally
speaking, it seems repugnant to make Alice pay, but I don't see how her
financial needs provide her with a legal defense. Maybe, should could
argue that there is a defense of "necessity" to actions for breach of
contract."
Lesson Four: Easy Cases, Hard Cases, and Wild Cases One way to slice the hypothetical pie is into cases that are easy, hard, and wild:
Easy cases
involve a straightforward application of a legal rule. Most hypos are
easy cases. You may make a mistake and learn something about the rule,
but there is nothing funny going on here. Easy cases are the bread and butter of legal education.
Hard cases
involve a genuinely difficult legal problem. Sometimes there is a black
letter rule that covers the facts of a hypo, but sometimes there isn't.
Why not? Many reasons, including: (1) In a common-law system,
there are simply many issues that have never been decided–"novel
questions" where not precedent or rule is binding; (2) Rules sometimes
have "gaps," places where the law simply is unclear because the rule
was not formulated with that sort of case in mind; (3) Rules sometimes
conflict with one another, and unless the conflict has already been
resolved, the result is a "hard case." When you get a hypo that
involves a genuinely hard case, your job is to figure out what the law
should be. In a way, the whole point of the first year of law school is
to give you the tools necessary so that you can argue both sides of a
hard case on your own, without any help from professors, outlines,
treatises, or law review articles. How do you do this? Well, legal theorists disagree about the best method, but you can always make three kinds of arguments:
(1)
Arguments of fit. You can argue for a rule or result on the grounds
that it best fits the legal landscape. Arguments of fit are about
consistency or coherence. Frequently, you make arguments of fit based
on analogies between the rule in situation A (that is settled) and the
rule that should obtain in situation B (where the law is unclear).
(2)
Arguments of principle. You can argue for a rule or result on the
ground that it is fair or that it respects the rights of the parties.
It is fair that Y should recover damages, because Y has a moral right
to the integrity of her body.
(3) Arguments of policy. You can argue for a rule or result on the ground that it will lead to good consequences. What consequences are good?
Deep question! But most people will agree that (1) economic efficiency,
(2) health, (3) savings lives, and (4) human happiness and the absence
of human suffering, are all goods that should be promoted.
Hard cases are the meat and potatoes of law school.
Wild Cases
involve fanciful fact patters or bizarre legal rules. Suppose that on
Mars, the rule is that crime-of-passion murders aren't punished at all,
because the chances of recidivism are so low. Suppose that everyone
over the age of 34 is killed by a mysterious virus, can a 32 year serve
as President, even though the Constitution sets a minimum age of 35.
Wild cases are frequently constructed to serve as "intuition pumps."
That is, the wild case is constructed so as to generate a particular
reaction–an intuition about how the case should be treated. Always be careful about the intuitions generated by wild cases.
On the one hand, the intuitions pumped by a wild case can be
illuminating–they can help you to an insight that you would otherwise
have difficulty grasping. On the other hand, intuition pumps can be
misleading. The set up of the wild case may be cleverly (or
accidentally) designed so that a legally or morally irrelevant feature
of the case is doing the work–pumping the intuition. When you are
questioned about a wild case, you should simply give your
reaction–your gut instinct. But it is also fair to qualify your
answer: "My answer is yes, but this case is so wild that I really don't
feel very sure about my intuitions." Wild cases are the desert of law school.
Conclusion
There is a lot more to learn about hypotheticals (perhaps in a second installment in the Legal Theory Lexicon, but these four lessons should get you started.
(Last updated on March 29, 2009.)
Source: Lawrence Solum
