U.S. v. Tainewasher (9th Cir. - Oct. 10, 2025)

There's a ton of value in Judge Graber's dissent here, particularly about what it means (or does not mean) for a district court to have committed "plain error." Definitely worth reading.

On the merits, personally, I'm fairly confident that the defendant here did indeed actually commit at least one drug offense, and not merely attempt to do so via Facebook. Here are the relevant messages:

"[O]n April 23, 2020, Tainewasher received a Facebook message from “Trigger Tre” stating, “I really need em ill get em off yu fasure,” and asking, “Do yu have em or not[?]” Tainewasher replied, “No I don’t . . . I was selling them for someone I will have more later.” A few days later, on April 29, 2020, Tainewasher messaged Trigger Tre that she “got pills.” Trigger Tre replied, “Rn?” (meaning right now), to which Tainewasher replied, “Yea.” 

On April 27, 2020, Tainewasher received a message from another individual asking if she “ha[d] any blk” (a term for heroin). She replied that she could “get you some,” which she would “[t]rade for shards” (a term for methamphetamine). On April 28, 2020, Tainewasher wrote back that, “I have dark” (a term for heroin), and the two messaged about the logistics of a meet-up. 

And on June 9, 2020, Tainewasher received a message from yet another individual, who asked, “U know where I could get a ball of shards[?]” (a term for 3.5 grams of methamphetamine). Tainewasher replied, “Yea I’ll have it in a bit.” Approximately one hour later, Tainewasher responded, “I have it,” and “[o]n my way.”"

Was there police surveillance or other evidence of the underlying transaction(s)? No. But I'm fairly confident that, yes, at least one drug deal actually went down. (Particularly the last one.)

Now, am I certain of that fact beyond a reasonable doubt? Probably not. Which is Judge Graber's principal point.

But, FWIW, I would bet a lot of money that it did, in fact, actually happen.

De Meo v. Cooley LLP (Cal. Ct. App. - Oct. 8, 2025)

I'm always interested in published opinions that involve lawsuits against lawyers. Doubly so when the case involves a lawsuit against a big law frim -- here, against Cooley. And triply so when the opinion is written by the 4/1 down and arises down here in San Diego.

Hence my particular interest in this opinion earlier today. Which, as an added bonus, involves core issues of legal ethics, which is a particular interest and expertise of mine.

Justice Irion's opinion affirms the trial court's grant of summary judgment to Cooley, and her analysis seems exactly right to me. A huge problem for the plaintiff is that he admitted at his deposition that Cooley "made clear" to him that it believed (perhaps accurately) that it did not represent him, and that he was instead represented solely by his own lawyer. Once you say that in your deposition, you're hard pressed to submit a contrary (inadmissible) declaration that, as here, contradicts your deposition testimony. No representation, as a general matter (albeit with important exceptions), means no duty.

It also hurts plaintiff that their declaration from their legal ethics expert got excluded below, as well as how the plaintiff (and his counsel) attempted to address that issue on appeal. Here's what the Court of Appeal says on that front: (Plaintiff's legal ethics expert was a California lawyer, Edward McIntyre.)

"To support his contention that Cooley owed him a fiduciary duty, De Meo also relies, in extremely general terms, on the McIntyre Declaration. 

De Meo has not pointed us to any specific item in the McIntyre Declaration that he wants us to consider in support of his appeal. Instead, De Meo’s opening appellate brief refers, sweepingly, to paragraphs 138 through 202 of the McIntyre Declaration and states, without elaboration, that “McIntyre’s opinions demonstrate the existence and breach of fiduciary duty, along the same lines as the issues discussed” in the section of De Meo’s brief that discusses the manner in which Cooley allegedly violated the Rules of Professional Conduct. We are not required to search the record to develop De Meo’s arguments for him. (Meridian Financial Services, Inc. v. Phan (2021) 67 Cal.App.5th 657, 684 [“The reviewing court is not required to develop the parties’ arguments or search the record for supporting evidence and may instead treat arguments that are not developed or supported by adequate citations to the record as waived.”].)

 However, even if De Meo had identified any particular part of the McIntyre declaration that he wants us to consider, Cooley filed objections to large portions of the McIntyre Declaration, and the trial court sustained all of those objections. De Meo contends that the trial court erred in sustaining Cooley’s objections to the McIntyre Declaration. However, De Meo fails to develop the argument by directing us to any specific objections that he believes were improperly sustained. Instead, in a cursory argument, De Meo contends that the trial court erred, across the board, in sustaining all of Cooley’s objections."

That's not good enough. Which means, in the end, that summary judgment gets affirmed.

Did Cooley, in my view, make a mistake? Definitely. For one thing, no way should it have talked to De Meo without his lawyer present (and without the lawyer's consent) during the transaction. That's arguably (indeed, typically) a violation of the ethical rules, and it also led (in my view) directly to the lawsuit here. It also left Cooley open to De Meo claiming that Cooley told (or implied to) him that it was his lawyers. Cooley's just lucky that De Meo said what he did in his deposition. Had De Meo not done so, this case could easily have gone the other way.

Lesson of the day: Don't talk to a represented party without the other lawyer's consent (and, hopefully, presence).

People v. Molina (Cal. Ct. App. - Oct. 2, 2025)

Be nice to your kids. Otherwise they might put you in a home like this one (in Riverside):

"On January 24, a relative of a Secure Hands resident called the police after the relative visited the facility. When the responding officers entered the facility, they were overcome by the smell of human waste. The officers found one woman lying in fecal matter on a bare box spring. She had Alzheimer’s disease and was unable to move on her own or speak. She was unclothed except for a soiled adult diaper, and there was a mattress next to her that had feces and urine all over it. A second woman was trapped under another mattress in the same room. The second woman was also unclothed except for an adult diaper, which was saturated with feces and urine, and tears were streaming from her eyes. She appeared weak and asked for water; she said that she had not had water for days. The officers found a male resident in another room who appeared to be having a seizure.

The officers found Michael in a third room. He was screaming for food and said that he had not eaten in awhile. He also said that he had limited mobility and could not get out of bed that day. The pad on his bed was soaked with urine, and he reported that the pad had not been changed in days. Michael told the officers that someone came to care for him a few days per week, but that person had not been there for awhile. The person bathed him and changed his bed pad, but if she did not visit, the pad could go days without being changed."

There's additional disgusting stuff in the opinion as well. The place was a nightmare.

Fortunately, at least one person went to jail. Though, in this case, for only four months.

They are perhaps lucky that I was not the judge.

Berkeley People's Alliance v. City of Berkeley (Cal. Ct. App. - Sept. 30, 2025)

Here's an example, in my view, of the empty formality of texualism.

California's Brown Act states that city council meetings should generally be open to the public, but that "[i]n the event that any meeting is willfully interrupted by a group or groups of persons so as to render the orderly conduct of such meeting unfeasible and order cannot be restored by the removal of individuals who are willfully interrupting the meeting, the members of the legislative body conducting the meeting may order the meeting room cleared and continue in session.”

During three Berkeley city council meetings in late 2023 and early 2024, the public was disruptive, so the city council decided to close the meeting. But instead of physically removing the public from the room the city council was initially in, the city council moved to a different room and continued the session without the public. Plaintiffs sued, claiming that the Brown Act required the city council wasn't allowed to move to a new room, and instead had to stay in the same room but clear the public.

The trial court dismissed the lawsuit. The Court of Appeal reverses, holding that this states a claim under the Brown Act. Because the words of the statute expressly say that the city council could "order the [] room cleared and continue in session" but don't expressly say that the city council can move rooms.

To me, that's silly. It matters not one iota what room they're in. The public's excluded. Who cares whether it's the original room or a different one? Moreover, there's good reason to simply move rooms. That way you don't have to physically remove people, with the resulting potential for violence.

Yes, the statute says "order the meeting room cleared and continue in session." But that's what the city council did. It "ordered the meeting room cleared" -- albeit after it had moved to a different room; i.e., eventually, the public was cleared" and "continue[d] in session" (in a different room). The words of the statute weren't violated.

And even if they were, I'd have interpreted the Brown Act pursuant to Section 3533 of the Civil Code, which dictates the statutory maxim that "The law disregards trifles." It's irrelevant whether the initial meeting room is cleared and the meeting continues in that empty room or whether that initial room is emptied only later and the meeting continues in a different room. The public isn't there either way. The difference is a trifle (if that).

Ditto for Section 3511 ("Where the reason is the same, the rule should be the same."), Section 3528 ("The law respects form less than substance."), and Section 3532 ("The law does not require idle acts.").

I would have affirmed. (And were I on the California Supreme Court, I would vote to grant review and reverse. 'Cause the resulting opinion, in my view, literally requires only a half-dozen pages. It's easy..

Kashanian v. National Enterprise Systems (Cal. Ct. App. - Oct. 1, 2025)

Kudos to Justice Rodriquez for publishing this opinion today. The trial court thought that plaintiff didn't have standing to seek statutory damages since he didn't suffer any actual injury, so dismissed the lawsuit. That's clearly wrong. Standing in state court is different than in federal court. (And, even there, statutory damages sometimes themselves create standing.) The statute here allows statutory damages -- in order to deter misconduct -- even absent actual injury. Exactly right.

Ridley v. Rancho Palma Grande HOA (Cal. Ct. App. - Sept. 29, 2025)

Ah, the joys of owning a condo.

Especially when, as here, the building is accidentally built above an abandon, unregistered water well.

Sounds like an absolute nightmare.

Estate of Esche v. Bunuel-Jordan (9th Cir. - Sept. 29, 2025)

There's only one published California appellate opinion thus far today -- this one from the Ninth Circuit. Fortunately, it's somewhat interesting. Equally fortunately, Judge Berzon begins her opinion with a nice summary of both the case and the result, saying:

"On its merits, this case raises troubling questions: Did private health-care providers acting under color of state law violate a patient’s constitutional rights when, without a court order, they forcibly held her in a hospital for a month; subjected her to medical, including psychiatric and prenatal, treatment; did not allow her to contact a lawyer; and then, after her daughter was born, allowed her to leave in so fragile a condition that she died outside near the hospital that night? But we cannot answer those questions today. The district court’s denial of the health-care providers’ good-faith defense to § 1983 liability is not immediately appealable under the collateral order doctrine, so there is no decision within our jurisdiction to review. That conclusion eliminates any basis for our jurisdiction over the cross-appeal brought by the patient’s survivors. We accordingly dismiss these appeals."

The opinion seems definitely correct; it's not a final judgment, and the federal defense at issue is not akin to qualified immunity, so yeah, no appellate jurisdiction. On that (dispositive) point, I wholeheartedly agree.

I had a slightly different reaction than Judge Berzon, though, on the merits.

From the introduction, I thought that I would be heavily sympathetic to the plaintiff. And, in truth, I kinda am. After reading the entirety of the facts, I might have added the word "allegedly" to that introductory paragraph, but overall, it accurately summarizes what plaintiff claims to have transpired.

At the same time, I find it somewhat difficult to reconcile any potential outrage at the hospital's (alleged) initial conduct with any potential outrage at the final result. From Judge Berzon's introduction, I definitely felt like the hospital was not giving the patient very much autonomy. I learned later in the opinion that the hospital (through its psychiatrist) did file a petition to involuntarily hold the plaintiff in the hospital, but the hospital held here there in the interim while the petition was pending. Clearly the better option would have been to get a TRO and a court order for that interim period so, yes, there's a real issue about whether the hospital was justified in holding the plaintiff in the hospital, and treating her there, against her wishes.

But that initial sentiment is somewhat contradicted by the final result -- one that Judge Berzon's opinion distinctly mentions, but that didn't really hit home until the subsequent recitation of the ultimate facts.

Pursuant to the pending petition, the hospital held her there, and treated her, until her child was born, even though he continuously objected and demanded to leave. Once the child was born, however, the hospital finally relented, and granted her the autonomy that she so desperately sought. Two days after the c-section, they told her that if she really wanted to leave, it was 100% against their medical advice, but at that point, if she was absolutely set on declining medical treatment, it was her choice, and when she insisted on leaving, they then dropped the petition and -- again, totally AMA -- let her leave.

Which is when she promptly dropped dead on a porch not far from the entrance to the hospital.

There's a lingering sentiment in me that says you can't have it both ways. You can't complain about not being allowed to leave the hospital and then simultaneously complain about dropping dead after they finally relent and release you. It's one or the other. And the fact that she did, in fact, drop dead shortly after leaving the hospital seems to me a strong argument for not letting her leave the hospital, especially during that period in which she had an about-to-be born child inside of her.

Admittedly, those are all issue that relate to the merits, and a jury will ultimately get to decide whether what the hospital did was justified or not. And, again, the much better practice would have been to get all of this blessed by a judge in advance as part of the involuntary commitment petition.

But it nonetheless seems difficult to me for one to argue that you should have been left to leave the hospital when, upon actually being released, you promptly (and presumably involuntarily) ceased to exist.

Wolfswinkle v. Gordon (Cal. Ct. App. - Sept. 3, 2025)

As readers may know, I read all of the published opinions from the California Court of Appeal (alongside the Ninth Circuit and the California Supreme Court), but on occasion, I also peruse the unpublished Court of Appeal opinions -- at least the ones down here from San Diego.

After all, you gotta keep up with one's neighbors, right?

So, today, I stumbled across this opinion from earlier this month. Someone -- Tiffany L. Wolfswinkel -- was (allegedly) talking on her cell phone while driving, got pulled over by the cops, the officers noticed that she had watery eyes and slurred speech (plus smelled of alcohol), and placed her under arrest. When they searched her car, they also found two bottles of whiskey, one of which was opened and almost empty. Ms. Wolfwinkel subsequently blew a .25 (twice) when tested for BAC.

Reminder for the day: Don't talk on your cell phone if you're driving while drunk. It gives the police a reason to stop you.

Anyway, Ms. Wolfswinkel loses her license for driving drunk, but appeals, and prevails (!) on a procedural technicality. She then moves to recover her attorney's fees, which the trial court denies, and the Court of Appeal affirms. Albeit in an unpublished opinion.

Which is somewhat fortunate for Ms. Wolfswinkel. Because were I to have a somewhat unique name, I'm not sure that would have made the call to file an appeal and risk a published opinion that permanently reminded the world that I'd been (allegedly) talking on my cell phone while driving with a .25 BAC.

Rosenwald v. Kimberly-Clark Co. (9th Cir. - Sept. 24, 2025)

Judge Smith dismisses this appeal (and the underlying lawsuit) for lack of subject matter jurisdiction, noting that the plaintiff -- who filed in federal court to begin with -- "failed to plead subject-matter jurisdiction in the original Complaint, First Amended Complaint, or SAC. [Indeed, left out entirely both the citizenship of the defendant in this purported diversity case as well as failed to allege any amount in controversy.] We issued two orders outlining our jurisdictional concerns. Yet Plaintiffs’ TAC is far from alleging a viable amount in controversy."

Given these underlying facts, it's perhaps quite generous for Judge Smith to say in the immediately prior sentence that "Plaintiffs are not pro se; they have sophisticated counsel."

Angel Lynn Realty v. George (Cal. Ct. App. - Sept. 23, 2025)

Sometimes a powerful hypothetical is worth a thousand words.

In reversing and remanding the trial court's contrary judgment below, here's what Justice Earl says about the precise issue at hand; i.e., whether you can add an individual to the judgment as an alter ego despite the fact you previously lost your alter ego claim at trial:

Assume Corporation ABC (ABC) borrows $100 from John and fails to repay it. Assume further that ABC has one shareholder—Jane. John sues ABC and Jane to recover the $100, and he alleges Jane is the alter ego of ABC. At trial, John proves ABC owes him $100 but fails to prove Jane is the alter ego of ABC. Instead, the trial court finds ABC and Jane have never comingled funds; Jane has never treated ABC’s assets as her own or diverted its assets to herself to the detriment of creditors; corporate formalities were always observed; and ABC was adequately capitalized and had $1,000 in assets at the time of trial. The trial court also finds no inequitable result would follow if ABC’s corporate separateness from Jane was respected. The trial court enters judgment against ABC (but not against Jane) for $100.

After judgment is entered, Jane decides John will never collect a penny from ABC, and she transfers all of ABC’s assets to herself and dissolves the corporation. If John thereafter moved to amend the judgment to add Jane as a judgment debtor based on an alter ego theory, would collateral estoppel preclude him from doing so on the ground the alter ego issue had already been decided against him? We do not believe it would. Although the alter ego issue was litigated and decided, the relevant facts and circumstances materially changed after the judgment was entered. To put it another way: When the judgment was entered, Jane was not ABC’s alter ego, but based on postjudgment events, she became ABC’s alter ego, and it would be inequitable to continue to respect ABC’s corporate separateness from Jane."

Sounds exactly right to me. Well spoken. 

Brockman v. Kaiser Foundation Hospitals (Cal. Ct. App. - Sept. 29, 2025)

I'm not sure why Harmeet Dhillon is listed as the first counsel of record in this appeal. Or, more accurately, why -- at least according to the docket sheet -- she never substituted out of the case.

Because I'm pretty sure she's been the Assistant Attorney General for Civil Rights for nearly six months already.

I'm fairly confident that you can't retain your position as counsel of record for someone in a civil lawsuit while simultaneously serving as an official in the United States government.

(Put to another side that she apparently maintains her own law firm. Or the irony, at least to some, of her appointment as the head of the civil rights division.)

Mia Familia Vota v. Peterson (9th Cir. - Sept. 22, 2025)

Not surprisingly, many of the conservative judges on the Ninth Circuit voted (unsuccessfully) to take en banc the panel's decision to uphold the district court's preliminary injunction of Arizona's rules that require people to present proof of citizenship in order to vote.

Those various judges explain their respective positions here.

It's now the Supreme Court's turn.

In re A.M. (Cal. Ct. App. - Sept. 19, 2025)

Justice Wiley rightly publishes this opinion. You generally can't take away parental rights just because the parent is in prison. There has to be some harm to the child.

In the case at hand, Father and Mother had joint custody, but then father committed a crime and went to prison. Father arranged for the child to live with his sister, Martha, and that worked out just fine. But one day, Mother picked up the child and refused to return her, and since Mother had joint custody, there was nothing Martha could do about it. So the child was with Mother. Which very much didn't work out -- I'll not recount the many problems there (including, weirdly but insignificantly, that Mother often picked up the child from school "wearing a bathing suit") -- so the court removed the child from Mother.

But at the same time, the court also took away Father's rights, on the theory that he couldn't care for the child while in prison. Hence the child's appeal, since the child wants Father to retain parental rights and loves Father.

The Court of Appeal reverses the decision below and remands for reconsideration in light of whatever events have transpired in the meantime.

As I said, Justice Wiley's opinion is helpful, and seems generally right to me. But I nonetheless wanted to mention a couple of nits that came to mind while reading it.

First, at the top of page seven, the opinion claims that the child "was not [] affected by the father's criminal activity" (which involved possession of a gun and drugs). I agree that his crime wasn't alone sufficient to terminate Father's parental rights, but it seems wrong to say that the child wasn't affected by his crime. She was. If he hadn't committed a crime, he wouldn't have gone to prison, and the child would have retained his in-person love, affection and companionship. She pretty much entirely lost that once he went to prison. She was accordingly most definitely affected by his crime. It harmed her, and in a way about which we care. (Again, that might not alone be sufficient to terminate parental rights, but it affected her, and I would not say or pretend that it didn't.)

Plus, the fact that Father was in prison almost certainly made it a fair piece harder for him to prevent Mother 's alleged psychosis and drug use from harming the child. Father apparently tried -- or at least started the process -- of trying to get sole custody of the child once Mother took the kid away from Martha. That'd have been great. The trial court found that Father failed to protect the child from Mother while he was in prison, but Justice Wiley's opinion responds that since Mother had joint custody, Father "could not be blamed for failing to do what he lacked the legal right to do" (e.g., stopping Mother from taking the child from Martha). That's true to a degree. 

But Father did have a legal right to request that the court remove joint custody and give sole custody to Father (as he indeed attempted to do). And the fact that he was in prison made such a request more difficult to effectuate -- both practically (because it's tough to file things in prison) as well as effectively (because judges look somewhat less kindly on the prospect of giving sole custody to someone who's in prison and hence can't personally take care of the child). So, in part, yeah, Father can, in fact, perhaps be blamed -- at least a little -- for not doing something that he indeed had a legal right to at least attempt to do.

Lastly, I would have liked to hear more about what seems to be an important undercurrent here. Justice Wiley's opinion contains the following brief mention: "The juvenile court originally detained A.M. only from the mother. However, after noting that a lack of removal from the father might impair Martha’s ability to get funding, at county counsel’s suggestion," there was another hearing, and the court at that point removed the child from Father as well."

If the real reason the trial court removed the child from Father as well was simply to get the child more support, and that worked, well, geeze, I totally understand why it did what it did. (Even if that's perhaps legally erroneous.) Is the ultimate effect of giving Father back his parental rights that this seven-year old child now has less support (e.g., food, money, etc.) than she did before today's Court of Appeal opinion? If so, that radically sucks. And if that's the real reason why Commissioner Marpet (in L.A.) did what he did here, quite frankly, I can both see why, and empathize with, why that happened. Something that the tenor of the Court of Appeal's opinion doesn't really reflect.

So I would very much have liked to hear more about this. I'm not entrenched enough in the dependency space to understand the details. But I definitely want this child to have (1) a parent who loves them and who can at least make arrangements for her care while he's in prison, while (2) simultaneously getting the support she needs. If, for some reason, (1) is inconsistent with (2), I would like someone to explain to me why that's in fact the case. 'Cause it needs to change.

Federal Courts Class (9th Cir. - Sept. 17, 2025)

What I recall about my Federal Courts class in law school was that it was (1) very difficult, and (2) very confusing. And I tried. Hard. (I ended up doing just fine, but still.)

I say that because I had a similar reaction to the two Ninth Circuit opinions published today, both of which directly involved various complicated doctrines that we discussed at length in Federal Courts. 

The first of today's opinions involves Younger abstention alongside constitutional ripeness doctrines in the context of a federal First Amendment challenge to medical disciplinary proceedings brought against various Washington state doctors who published misleading information about COVID during the pandemic. Yikes. Complicated complicated complicated. (But, ultimately, yes, the federal courts abstain over many of the claims and the rest are unripe).

The second opinion involves yet another abstention doctrine -- this time, Colorado River -- and how it  in turn applies to appellate deadlines under Rule 58(c); do you have to file an appeal immediately under the collateral order doctrine, or can you wait until the denial of a motion to vacate the stay, and in either event, when does the appellate clock start ticking in the context of a "text-only" (i.e., no PDF attachment) minute order from the district court? Yet more multifaceted and complicated stuff. (Short answer, by the way: You must appeal immediately.)

In short, my head hurts today in somewhat the same fashion as it did 35 years ago as a 2L in law school.

American Encore v. Fontes (9th Cir. - Sept. 16, 2025)

The Ninth Circuit holds that Arizona can't prohibit election activity that occurs "with the intent or effect of threatening, harassing, intimidating, or coercing voters." 

I'm somewhat surprised at that result. That Arizona provision seems to me quite similar to 18 U.S.C. sect. 594, which makes it a crime to "threatens, coerces, or attempts to intimidate, threaten, or coerce, any other person for the purpose of interfering with the right of such other person to vote or to vote as he may choose." The Ninth Circuit opinion nowhere mentions Section 594, which has been repeatedly upheld by the courts. The substantive language of the Arizona provision -- e.g., "intimidate," "threaten" and "coerce" -- is basically identical to the federal provision. Hence my surprise.

Admittedly, there is one portion of the Arizona provision that seems different, and problematic. The Arizona Secretary of State has provided "examples" of conduct that might violate the Arizona law. Some of those examples seem totally fine to me; e.g., "[b]locking the entrance to a voting location," [d]isrupting voting lines, etc.

But one of those examples is "[u]sing threatening, insulting, or offensive language to a voter or poll worker." Today's Ninth Circuit opinion focuses pretty much exclusively on the "offensive" part of that example, noting -- accurately, I think -- that language that might perhaps be deemed offensive may still be protected by the First Amendment.

Fair enough. I see why one might accordingly enjoin enforcement of that example. But the underlying regulation, which its express focus only on conduct that threatens, harasses, intimates or coerces voters, nonetheless seems fine to me. Personally, I don't think that "offensive" language in fact constitutes a threat or intimidation or coercion, so don't see how it would qualify in the first place. But given the example, why not just sever the unconstitutional example -- which isn't even actually part of the regulation, but rather merely an "example" of ostensibly prohibited conduct?

This is also relevant, I think, to the standing inquiry. I'm sympathetic to the panel's view that there's a potential chill on speech. But given the absence of anyone actually being charged -- or even threatened -- with using "offensive" speech (pursuant to an "example" promulgated by the Secretary of State), is it really plausible that someone's going to be prosecuted for, say, wearing a shirt that says "Israel has a right to exist" (which is one of the hypotheticals in the opinion)? Doesn't seem likely, particularly given the text of the actual regulation. I strongly doubt anyone, in any universe, would think that such a piece of clothing would "threaten" or "intimate" a voter.

So, yeah, the "offensive" example seems wrong (and impermissible), but I'm not sure that enjoining the entire regulation seems appropriate for one erroneous exemplar.

People v. Millsap (Cal. Ct. App. - Sept. 11, 2025)

I very much understand the Court of Appeal's ruling. It's a death penalty case, and an automatic appeal is accordingly pending before the California Supreme Court. So the Court of Appeal holds that the trial court does not have jurisdiction over a resentencing petition, since that might interfere with the disposition of the automatic appeal in the California Supremes.

Though, as the opinion notes, the murders here transpired in the previous century, the death sentences at issue were imposed a quarter century ago, the briefing in the California Supreme Court took seventeen years, and the California Supreme Court has been "working" on that appeal for the past eight full years.

Given these facts, as a practical matter, I'm not sure that there's a ton of hard work going on with which to interfere anyway.

But I get it. Doctrine. Exclusive jurisdiction. Understood.

U.S. v. Green (9th Cir. - Sept.10, 2025)

Judge Lee's opinion today seems moderate and right to me. Yes, the sentence is long (12+ years), but there's insufficient evidence that it's inordinately long, and the defendant was convicted of attempting to pimp a 16-year old and the statutory minimum is 10 years. Yes, there was some basis for asserting that there might be discriminatory racial prosecution, since all of the San Diego federal juvenile sex trafficking sting defendants were Black, but the sample size was incredibly small (six people) and the district court didn't abuse its discretion in refusing to allow discovery. Those conclusions seem sound to me, and I liked the careful and considerate way Judge Lee wrote the opinion.

I'll add that I thought that the San Diego task force that conducts these online stings seems to be doing a very good job. You can read the opinion for more details. But I was very impressed by the professionalism and effectiveness of the stings. Put up a fake Instagram page of a fake woman with risque photographs and various veiled references to prostitution (e.g., stacks of money, "roses" (which I know from other cases is a euphemism for money paid for sex), crowns, etc.) and let the potential would-be pimps come to you. And then, once they do, slowly reel them in, and then up the ante by saying that you're 16. That latter point will make for huge time in prison.

The one symbol I didn't understand -- which I then had to look up -- was including the number "304" in the Instagram handle. What? How's that a reference to prostitution? Hadn't heard that before. I know from originally being from Virginia that that's the area code for West Virginia, but how's that related?

Oh. Now I get it. Type it into a handheld calculator and turn it upside down and it spells "Hoe".

Like anyone has a handheld calculator these days anyway.

Kruitbosch v. Bakersfield Recovery Services (Cal Ct. App. - Sept. 8, 2025)

About six months after plaintiff's life partner passed away, a co-worker named Lisa Sanders allegedly started showing an interest in him. A lot of interest. As today's opinion explains:

"Sanders began sending plaintiff multiple unsolicited nude pictures and stating she wanted to have sex with him . . . . On March 3, 2023, Sanders went to plaintiff’s home uninvited and brought a[nother female] friend. Sanders indicated to plaintiff she was there to have sex with him . . . . Sanders again indicated she wanted to have sex with plaintiff. Sanders eventually departed plaintiff’s property, but in his driveway she left behind a cucumber with a condom attached. Later that same day, Sanders texted plaintiff and invited him to a hotel room to have sex and stated, “‘I’m at the sleep inn & suites and I have dope … let me know if you want to fuck.’” She also sent plaintiff multiple sexual images, including of her genitals, breasts and buttocks."

I hate days like that.

People v. Roberts (Cal. Ct. App. - Sept. 9, 2025)

Life tip: If you've got a no license, a fake identification on your center console, and a loaded gun and $14,000 in a little black bag, maybe don't go speeding down the 680 in front of a cop.

Just a suggestion.

Jones v. City of North Las Vegas (9th Cir. - Sept. 8, 2025)

Fair warning: I'm about to make a brief but completely inappropriate and insensitive comment.

Here goes:

I bet that the City of North Las Vegas wishes that Kristi Noem had been appointed to the Ninth Circuit and was on this panel.

(The opinion involves the disputed liability of the City for shooting two innocent dogs during its search for a suspect. The Ninth Circuit reversed the district court's dismissal of the lawsuit against the City.  As for Kristi Noem, well, you know.)

Morales v. City & County of San Francisco (Cal. Ct. App. - Sept. 4, 2025)

I agree with Justice Rodriguez that this appeal is frivolous. The sanctions imposed below were entirely justified given the multiple failures to respond to some of the form interrogatories, and appealing their imposition was entirely unreasonable. (Unlike Justice Rodriguez, I don't really care about not briefing one of the three issues listed in the notice of appeal -- that's fairly routine -- and I think it arguable that the appeal of the separate $1,500 sanction is permissible notwithstanding the $5,000 appellate minimum given the other $6,500 sanction. But, yes, with respect to the $6,500 sanction, the appeal is clearly meritless.)

So I'm on board for additional sanctions on appeal.

But two things were interesting.

First, it's unusual for the Court of Appeal to admit that the oral argument flipped its intended outcome. The tentative appellate opinion rejected the appeal on the merits (obviously) but denied to impose additional sanctions. But then the panel heard oral argument and went the other way on sanctions. The oral argument of appellants clearly did not help their cause.

Second, I thought it unfortunate that Justice Rodriguez didn't explain in the opinion how he selected the amount of sanctions imposed. The opinion notes that the San Francisco City Attorney's office asked for nearly $200,000 in sanctions, claiming that this was how much the City spent defending the appeal. To be honest, I was stunned by this request. It should not cost $200,000 to file (1) a single opposition brief, (2) opposing a silly, frivolous (read: easy) appeal, (3) over a dispute involving only $6,500. If the City did, in fact, spend over $190,000 in opposition to the appeal, then I seriously question the oversight (and wisdom) of the Powers That Be in the City Attorney's Office. It shouldn't require (or justify) nearly that much.

My initial reaction, to be honest, was to potentially deny sanctions entirely on the ground that the amount of sanctions requested was itself manifestly excessive.

In the end, the Court of Appeal imposes $30,000 in sanctions. That sounds pretty much exactly right to me.

But it does so without any explanation for this figure. Or any discussion at all between the huge variance between the amount of sanctions requested ($190,000+) and the amount of sanctions imposed ($30,000).

I'd have liked to hear more about this.

Still would.

People v. Sarabia (Cal. Ct. App. - Sept. 4, 2025)

This is an opinion by Justice Wiley, so it's replete with one- and two-sentence paragraphs. One series of paragraphs/sentences reads:

"Sarabia fired more shots through the door at Ramon. 

Romero ran to a closet. She hid behind the curtain that served as the closet door. 

Sarabia called to her, “Where are you, bitch?” 

Sarabia shot through the curtain into the closet, hitting Romero in the stomach. Despite her wound, Romero kept quiet. She heard Sarabia rustling among things in the room. 

When Sarabia left, Romero called 911. 

Officers found German dead in a pool of blood. 

The officers heard the shower running. They tried to open the door, but it was blocked. Forcing their way in, they found Ramon in a deathlike pose. Paramedics later saved Ramon."

I understand all of that, but I'm not sure what it means to be in a "deathlike pose" (or why that's significant or worthy of inclusion).

I've looked it up, and apparently that term has never heretofore be used in any published (or unpublished) state or federal opinion. Mr. Google says there are some clinical references to the term, but I'm still not sure what the phrase is intended to convey, other than that Ms. Romero was shot and presumably lying in a still position.

Though, as an aside, "Deathllike Pose" might be a good name for a band.

U.S. v. Taylor (9th Cir. - Sept. 3, 2025)

You don't see above-guidelines sentences very often. But from the facts of this case, you can potentially see why the district court (and Ninth Circuit) thought that Mr. Taylor was an understandable exception to the usual rule:

"In October 1995, Taylor robbed four banks across Los Angeles (the “underlying criminal offense”). Taylor pleaded guilty to five counts . . . In April 1996, the district court sentenced Taylor to 147 months of imprisonment for the underlying criminal offense. The court also imposed a five-year term of supervised release for the underlying criminal offense, subject to conditions.

In April 2007, Taylor’s term of supervised release began upon his release from prison. In August 2008, Taylor used a handgun to rob a bank. Taylor was prosecuted in state court, and received 17 years of imprisonment in state custody. In December 2018, while still in state custody, Taylor stabbed another inmate with a knife. Taylor received four years of imprisonment in state custody for charges arising out of the stabbing, to run consecutively with Taylor’s existing 17-year sentence. From 2016 to 2023, Taylor was cited for 17 rules violations while in state custody, some of which involved violence.

In November 2023, Taylor completed his state term of imprisonment and was transferred to federal custody. Previously, the United States Probation Office (Probation) had filed a petition for revocation of supervised release, alleging that Taylor’s August 2008 conduct violated the conditions of his supervised release. In December 2023, Probation amended its petition for revocation of supervised release. Given Taylor’s criminal history, Probation calculated a revocation imprisonment range of 18–24 months. Taylor admitted all allegations in the amended petition. The district court accepted Taylor’s admissions. 

In February 2024, upon revoking Taylor’s supervised release, the district court sentenced Taylor to an above-Guidelines sentence of 60 months of imprisonment, followed by 24 months of supervised release."

Mr. Taylor's been in prison for almost three decades, with the exception of a single year outside -- and he made sure to rob yet another bank (and get caught) promptly upon release. That, plus the stabbing while in prison, plus all the rules violations, does not exactly make a judge think that the guy's rehabilitated at this point.

(And, yes, I know that "rehabilitated" is allegedly a "made up word," at least according to this guy. Still. His allocution was, I suspect, quite a bit more persuasive than Mr. Taylor's.)

People v. Parker (Cal. Ct. App. - Sept. 2, 2025)

Sometimes opinions are fascinating simply because they give insight into other people's personalities; insights that we wouldn't ordinarily see (and/or people with whom we wouldn't otherwise ordinarily interact).

Here's one of those opinions.

I just can't fathom reacting the way he did. I mean, I get it. I've read lots of criminal opinions. I get that people have impulse control issues.

Still.

"Defendant and the victim, Megan Carling-Smith (Megan) met and began dating in 2014 or 2015. They moved into an apartment together in July 2015. In 2018, they made plans to get married. That same year, Megan began looking to buy a home where they could live together. In October 2018, Megan’s offer on a home was accepted, with the closing date set for late November. 

In the early afternoon of November 20, 2018, Megan left the apartment to sign escrow closing papers. Megan asked defendant to accompany her, but he chose to stay home. When Megan returned to the apartment, around 4:00 p.m., defendant was intoxicated. Defendant testified that he had started drinking a little after noon. He drank two pints of liquor, smoked four or five marijuana joints, and consumed prescription pills (Xanax and Percocet) that he had gotten from a friend.

That evening, defendant and Megan argued about defendant’s infidelity. Defendant testified that during the argument, Megan “kept pushing the issue” of his infidelity and “wouldn’t let it go.” They “just kept arguing and arguing about the same thing over and over.” Eventually, he “kind of just snapped.” In a “rage,” he violently beat Megan, repeatedly hitting her in the face and body and strangling her, until she was unconscious. 

Defendant admitted that Megan did not have any weapons, did not threaten him, and did not use any force against him. He did not remember any particular words that Megan said to trigger him: “We were just arguing.” When asked why he reacted as he did, defendant responded, “I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking clearly at all.” “I think it was just the pushing of the issue.” He recalled that Megan did not say anything to him during the attack and that she did not fight back. 

After Megan stopped moving, defendant moved her to the bedroom. She was not responsive, and defendant was scared. At some point, he tried to perform CPR, but “[i]t didn’t really work well.” At 3:48 a.m., defendant searched on the Internet for “how to tell if somebody is actually dead.” Around 7:10 a.m., he searched for “how to check for a pulse.” Around 8:05 a.m., defendant called 911. Defendant lied to the dispatcher and said that Megan had been injured in a car accident the night before and that he had found her unresponsive upon waking that morning. 

When paramedic firefighters arrived, they found Megan’s body on the floor of the apartment. She had bruising, swelling, and trauma to her face. She had no pulse, her skin was cold, and rigor mortis had set in. She was pronounced dead at 8:11 a.m."

As the jury found, that's second degree murder. Affirmed.

McNeil v. Gittere (9th Cir. - Sept. 2, 2025)

When I first started reading this Ninth Circuit opinion, I thought I was going to insult the Nevada Attorney General's Office for blowing the 30-day deadline to file their notice of appeal. After all, it's a very easy deadline to follow, and filing the notice itself is incredibly straightforward.

But once I read on, I realized that such a critique would be misplaced. I understand now exactly why they thought they had more time: because the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure unambiguously gave them 150 days. Yet the Ninth Circuit holds -- for the first time ever, in any court, I believe -- that these appeal rules impermissibly conflict with the underlying statute and are thus invalid.

Good to know.

Today's Ninth Circuit's holding is applicable only to appealable interlocutory orders; here, the district court's denial of qualified immunity. Nonetheless, it's important. There are lots of those, and I suspect that lots of governmental bodies have filed their appeals beyond the usual 30-day period.

No more. After today's opinion, it's crystal clear that they've only got 30 days.

Which shouldn't be a problem. Again: it's easy to file the notice. You've just got to know the rule.

I'm fairly confident that everyone intended to give would-be appellants in these circumstances 150 days. So, in a perfect world, Congress would just amend the underlying statute to correspond to the dictates of the Federal Rules of Civil (and Appellate) Procedure. (Or the Supreme Court would grant certiorari and reverse.)

We'll see if any of that happens.

For now, though, remember the rule: 30 days. File quickly.

Childs v. San Diego Family Housing (9th Cir. - Aug. 28, 2025)

The tenants are suing for mold. The lawsuit is procedurally complicated because the property is on a military base here in San Diego, and so at issue are federal removal statutes, enclave issues, derivative sovereign immunity, etc. As a result, the case has bounced around the federal system for the past half decade, only to be remanded today back to state court to start over.

You might be thinking: "Well, if it's a moldy house, I bet it's a pretty terrible piece of property." Maybe. But the house is in an extremely nice location. Check it out.

Emmons v. Jesso (Cal. Ct. App. - Aug. 27, 2025)

You don't see many landlord/tenant disputes in the Court of Appeal, much less published opinions about them. Or at least very few about back rent. Toxic mold, vicarious liability for criminal injuries, and big-ticket issues like that occasionally percolate up, but not $11,000 back rent disputes. At least not often.

But today, yep, a tiny dispute (in the scheme of things) about fourteen months of back rent. Which -- even though it's California -- the Court of Appeal holds that, yes, the tenant owes it. Judgment affirmed.

There's a lot of other stuff in the opinion about relocation expenses, statutes, rent stabilization ordinances, etc., all of which is important. But that's the bottom line.

Pay your rent.

People v. Fletcher (Cal. Supreme Ct. - Aug. 25, 2025)

As I've noted previously, the California Supreme Court is far less fractious than the United States Supreme Court. The opinions of the former are more likely to be unanimous, and when there's a dissenting opinion, it's far less likely to be affirmatively mean in California than in its federal counterpart.

Plus, at least in the modern era, there are far fewer state court opinions that are decided by a single vote (4-3) than corresponding federal court opinions that are 5-4s.

All that's true.

But as they say, for every rule, there are exceptions. Today's California Supreme Court opinion is definitely an exception.

It's not unanimous. It's decided on a 4-3 vote. And the dissent is quite strongly worded.

You can read the entire 79 pages if you would like. But I think the following snippet from Chief Justice Guerrero's opinion gives one a sufficient feel for the rest:

"The majority today holds that a prior conviction for a gang-related felony cannot support an increased sentence under the “Three Strikes” law or the prior serious felony enhancement statute unless the prior conviction satisfies current law defining a gang-related offense. This novel standard is virtually impossible to meet, and it will nullify decades of prior convictions that would otherwise support enhanced sentences for repeat felony offenders. It is also unsupported by the plain language of the relevant statutes and the intent of the voters and the Legislature that enacted them. I cannot agree. . . .

In enacting the Three Strikes law, the electorate ensured precisely this result, that is, a prior conviction for an offense or statutory violation identified as a serious felony would remain a prior serious felony conviction. The electorate locked in the list of serious felonies as of a certain date, thereby ensuring that future legislative enactments could not remove an identified felony from the list. . . . 

The majority eschews this straightforward analysis and embraces an obscure syntactical argument that no party has raised. The majority observes that the statute identifying a gang-related felony as a serious felony offense is phrased in the present conditional tense. [Cite] The majority tepidly explains that this phrasing “suggests an inquiry under current law,” and it contrasts this phrasing with hypothetical phrasing in the past tense. [Cite]

The majority’s reasoning does not withstand scrutiny. To the extent it is meaningful, the present tense phrasing is compelled by its statutory context, which has nothing to do with prior convictions or recidivist sentencing schemes like the Three Strikes law."

I wouldn't be surprised in the slightest to read something with that tenor in the United States Supreme Court. It's far more unusual to hear it from the California Supremes.

But there you have it.

Washington v. County of San Diego (Cal. Ct. App. - Aug. 21, 2025)

When the previous head of the Public Defender's Office down here in San Diego left the job, there was an opening, and in an unusual move, a sitting judge -- Judge Washington -- applied for the position. 

But there is a statute (Government Code Section 27701) -- originally enacted in 1921, and unchanged since 1947 -- that provides: “A person is not eligible to the office of public defender unless he has been a practicing attorney in all of the courts of the State for at least the year preceding the date of his election or appointment.”

Judge Washington was a long-time public defender before he was appointed to the bench, but since he's now a judge, he wasn't a practicing public defender during "the year preceding the date of his election or appointment.” So he couldn't be appointed.

So he sued, claiming that's not what the statute means.

The trial court ruled against him, and today, the Court of Appeal affirms. The statute's unambiguous. It means what it says.

I've now read the statute, as have you. Yep. That's what it says.

It may be a silly law. But there are lots of silly laws, and ones passed in 1921 are definitely no exception.

Sorry about that. But, yeah, the statute applies.

On the upside, at least Judge Washington can now go back to hearing criminal rather than civil cases. (He was reassigned to civil ones since he had a conflict hearing cases brought by the public defender's office while he was seeking to be its head.)

Gonzalez v. Herrera (9th Cir. - Aug. 19, 2025)

The Ninth Circuit decides today that prisoners who earn time credits under the First Step Act can have those credits applies to reduce the time they spend on supervised release rather than being useless.

The opinion creates a circuit split. It also is a big deal, since FSA credits and supervised release are ubiquitous in the federal system. As the opinion itself recognizes, "splits in authority are seldom so stark and consequential." So I wouldn't be at all surprised if and when the Supreme Court takes up a case to resolve this issue once and for all. (Assuming that Congress doesn't respond by amending the statute to make it clear.)

That said, for now, isn't Judge Mendoza's opinion pretty darn persuasive?

People v. Alvarez (Cal. Supreme Ct. - Aug. 18, 2025)

It's an death penalty case, and involves the horrible child abuse murders of an infant and a four-year old. Important on any metric. Accordingly, the various opinions are a combined 159 pages. Hefty reading.

Given the stakes at hand, it's somewhat ironic that the only (partial) dissent is from Chief Justice Guerrero, who writes to express her disagreement with the majority's decision on the $200 parole revocation fine.

An issue in a number of other cases, I'm sure, so definitely worthy of informed resolution.

But the fate of the $200 fine is definitely not the big-ticket item in this case.

In re Subpoena Internet Subscribers (9th Cir. - Aug. 15, 2025)

Here's a good example of a quasi-Streisand effect as applied to precedent.

The studio that owns the rights to the movie The Fall are, like many studios, tired of people pirating the thing. So they decide to catch some people and sue them. They hop on BitTorrent and quickly find some people sharing the thing, and log their IP addresses.

Normally, in situations like this, you just file a John Doe complaint, subpoena the internet provider, get the actual names, and then replace the John Does with the actual defendant and go to town. But the DCMA also contains a more streamlined subpoena process that allows copyright holders to skip the whole "file a lawsuit" part and obtain a quick subpoena by filling out a form, and the statute says the court clerk "shall" issue the subpoena if it's done properly. No need to even involve (or have to convince) a judge or anything like.

The studio discovers that 29 of the (alleged) pirates have IP addresses with Cox, so fills out the forms and asks the federal court for a streamlined DCMA subpoena to Cox that discovers the identities of the alleged pirates. Cox forwards that subpoena (as the DCMA requires) to those 29 people, and -- predictably -- none of them do anything about it.

Except for one.

One guy -- John Doe -- writes a letter back to the Court saying, essentially, "Oops, I'm not a pirate, it's just I didn't put a password on my WiFi. Problem solved now. Never downloaded that movie. Must have been someone else using my WiFi. Please don't tell them my name." The district court interprets that letter as a request to quash the subpoena to John Doe, and asks the studio to respond.

Now, at this point, if I'm the lawyer for the studio, here's what I'd do: Nothing. You've already got the names of 28 alleged pirates -- Cox gave you those already when those 28 never responded. Go to town and sue all 28 of them (or whatever subset you feel like) to make your point. Leave Mr. Active -- John Doe -- out of it.

Sure, we all know he's probably a pirate too, but who cares? Having 28 defendants is as good for your purposes as 29. Probably even better, since the 29th ill probably be a little more pain in the ass than Mr. 29, who got off his duff and bothered to write a letter in response to the subpoena.

But, no, the studio here spends the money to write a whole big motion saying that the subpoena to Cox is valid, the DCMA allows it, blah blah blah. Spending far more money, I'm certain, than a rental of The Fall would possibly cost, as well as more than you're ever going to get from Mr. 29 anyway, since most of the guys I know who pirate movies don't exactly have $150,000 in statutory copyright damages lying around in their couch cushions.

Plus, even that assumes you first win the subpoena motion, and then prevail in your copyright suit against his "no password" defense. And, here, the studio doesn't even get to that latter point, and loses on the first. The district court holds that an internet provider -- Cox -- isn't subject to the expedited DCMA subpeona process because they're just providing the tubes, not actually holding copies of the movie itself.

Now, at this point, if I'm the studio, here's what I am going to yet again do: Nothing. Leave it be. 

It's a Hawaii district court opinion. An unpublished one, at that. Who cares? Let it go. Dominate the defenseless other 28 defendants, make your point, and move on.

But nope. The studio appeals. Spending more time and money trying to get approval for the subpoena for Mr. 29.

Leading to today, at which the Ninth Circuit holds -- in a published opinion -- that, yep, you can't use the streamlined DCMA subpoena process to get subpoena ISPs like Cox.

So, before, you could issue a subpoena, get one entered, get virtually every name you wanted, but you might not get the name of that incredibly rare person who actually bothered to file an objection.

But now, after your appeal, in binding precedent, you -- and the other studio like you -- are categorically precluded as a matter of law from doing so to the 67 million residents of the Ninth Circuit. As well as all of the ISPs in that area, and I assure you, there are quite a few.

Not a sound strategic decision.

But yay for Mr. Doe. Well done. Pirates everywhere owe you a debt of gratitude.

And to personally commemorate this august opinion, and in honor of the Streisand effect, this weekend, I'm definitely not going to watch Fall -- which actually seems like it could potentially be a cool movie -- on a pirate website.

And neither should you.

Gamo v. Merrell (Cal. Ct. App. - Aug. 14, 2025)

This seems right to me. Just because a statute (here, the Consumer Legal Remedies Act) allows for one-way fee shifting if the plaintiff prevails (but not if the defendant prevails), that doesn't categorically bar a defendant from obtaining cost of proof sanctions for an improperly denied request for admission. One's a discovery provision and the other's about the merits. Two different things. For example, you an get cost of proof sanctions even if you lose.

The case here involved the purchase of a Masserati and the disputed value of the plaintiff's trade-in; the dealership gave him $2,000 for it, but the plaintiff said it promised him $6,500. Plaintiff denied RFAs that asked him to admit, for example, that he initialed each page of the written contract. (It seems to me like there's no reason not to admit that one if it's indeed true, but whatever.) Defendant subsequently prevailed at trial. The trial court thought it had no authority to award cost of proof sanctions given the one-way fee provisions of the CLRA, but the Court of Appeal reverses and remands.

I'm on board for pretty much everything that Justice Moore says in the opinion, with one caveat. There are some RFA's that are pretty much case-dispositive; e.g., "Admit that Defendant did not violate the CLRA." None of those were propounded here, but if they were, that might be an entirely different story: I could see an argument that, as to those, a fee award on behalf of a prevailing defendant might be precluded by the underlying statute.

So I would drop a footnote to leave that particular issue open were it me. Again: Doesn't apply here, but I could see it potentially applying in other cases. So no categorical rule.

Nwauzor v. The GEO Group (9th Cir. - Aug. 13, 2025)

Earlier today, Judge Bumatay, joined by Judges Callahan and VanDyke, authored a strongly worded, 27-page single-spaced dissent from the denial of rehearing en banc in this case, which involves the minimum wage applicable to civil immigration detainees. Simultaneously, Chief Judge Murguia, joined by Judge Fletcher, spent a grand total of two and a half pages responding to Judge Bumatay. And Judge Collins, joined by Judges Nelson and Bress, says in single paragraph that he'd have taken the case en banc for the reasons stated by Judge Bennett in his panel dissent.

Those disparate approaches probably speak volumes about various personalities on, and interactions between, some of the current judges on the Ninth Circuit.