At the Bulwark, Walter Olson offers an interesting post about the trio of cases argued before the Supreme Court this week, characterizing the issue as the “surprise plain meaning” approach to textualism.
The argument is this: If an employer would never fire Ginger for taking a romantic interest in men, but does fire George when it learns that he does so, it has treated him differently because of his sex. Similar arguments can reach the case of an employee’s gender identity.
You might call the phenomenon “surprise plain meaning”—a meaning of the text that the drafters did not intend or notice at the time. Every law student learns about this early on, as with the question of whether a “No Vehicles in the Park” rule covers bicycles, skateboards, or a statue of the general in his Jeep.
And, indeed, every law student learns, or at least used to learn, about the blunt weapon of words, meant to convey one meaning, one purpose, but resulting in unintended applications despite the non-lawyer’s retort, “but you know that’s not what they meant.” That’s why writing law is hard, and why recognizing how words often encompass things not intended, but unavoidable, when they’re later used to apply in way that are entirely within the word’s ambit while being completely beyond the law’s intended reach. It happens all the time. Continue reading
