The Court described the factual basis for finding that the City’s decision not to use the test scores was disparate treatment discrimination against those testtakers — the 17 whites and two Hispanic who would have been promoted if the test scores were used:

“When the examination results showed that white candidates had outperformed minority candidates, the mayor and other local politicians opened a public debate that turned rancorous. Some firefighters argued the tests should be discarded because the results showed the tests to be discriminatory. They threatened a discrimination lawsuit if the City made promotions based on the tests. Other firefighters said the exams were neutral and fair. And they, in turn, threatened a discrimination lawsuit if the City, relying on the statistical racial disparity, ignored the test results and denied promotions to the candidates who had performed well. In the end the City took the side of those who protested the test results. It threw out the examinations.”

The Court later describes why those facts support, as a matter of law, a finding of disparate treatment discrimination:

“The City’s actions would violate the disparate-treatment prohibition of Title VII absent some valid defense. All the evidence demonstrates that the City chose not to certify the examination results because of the statistical disparity based on race—i.e., how minority candidates had performed when compared to white candidates. . . . Whatever the City’s ultimate aim—however well intentioned or benevolent it might have seemed—the City made its employment decision because of race. The City rejected the test results solely because the higher scoring candidates were white.”

In sum, because the City knew the distribution by race of the test scores and knew that if the scores were used to promote firefighters to lieutenant and captain positions, no African American testtakers and all but two Hispanic testtakers would not get promoted to fill the openings that then existed.  (Over the two year lifetime of the test, three African Americans might be considered for promotion to lieutenant if there were new openings.) While the Court appeared to focus on two racial groups of testtakers – whites and African-Americans — in fact there were six different groups based on three racial groups members which were represented in two groups — those affected favorably by the decision not to use the test scores and those affected unfavorably.

 These are the six different groups:

 1. The  24 African American who, because the City decided not to use the test scores,  now have an improved chance for promotion if some other method is used to make the promotions. The City claims their threat of a disparate impact lawsuit was why it decided not to use the test scores.

2. The three African-American testtakers who might be considered for promotion to lieutenant if there were more openings over the two year life span of the test results. If it was decided not to use the test scores, their chance for promotion probably decline but that would not be known until it was known what the alternative promotion procedures the City might adopt would mean for them.

 3. The 20 Hispanic testtakers who, like the 24 African-American testtakers in group 1, would not have been promoted under the tests.

 4. The 51 white testtakers who did not score high enough to be promoted if the test scores would be used. Like the African-American and Hispanic testtakers in groups 1 and 3, their chances for promotion were improved by the City’s decision not to use the test scores because they had no chance for promotion if the test scores were used.

 5. The 17 white testtakers who did score high enough to be promoted if the test scores were used. With the decision not to use the test scores, their chances for promotion declined. They lost a sure thing and only have some chance for promotion under whatever system the City would decide to use for promotions instead of the test scores.

 6. The two Hispanic testtakers who scored high enough to be promoted if the test scores were used. Like the members of group 5, they have a reduced chance of promotion because they lost a sure thing.    

 In sum, there are six distinct groups involving three different racial groups and two possible outcomes. Each racial group had members in the group that would be treated more favorably if the test scores were used and had members in the group who likely would be treated more favorably if the scores were not used and some alternative selection method was adopted. In other words, the results as to all the testtakers resembles a racial mosaic, with the decisions not made along strict racial lines. This table shows the results as to all six groups: 

                                               Racial Groups

 Based on this, how could the Court conclude, as a matter of law, that the “City rejected the test results solely because the higher scoring candidates were white”? Was it also disparate treatment discrimination against the two Hispanic testtakers who would be promoted if the test scores were used and the three African-American testtakers who had some chance for promotion during the life span of the test results? None of these questions were addressed in Ricci. Why was this solely discrimination against the 17 white testtakers and not anyone else or everyone else?

 The basis for the Court’s conclusion appears to be simply that the City acted with knowledge of the racial impact of using or not using the test scores on all three races, not just the impact on the 17 white testtakers who were the first group to sue. The Court assumed there was no animus against any of the racial groups because there was disparate treatment racial discrimination “[e]ven if respondents were motivated as a subjective matter by a desire to avoid committing disparate-impact discrimination.”

 So, even if the City had subjectively intended to benefit members of the first three groups that included whites, Hispanics and African Americans, its decision not to use the test scores amounts to an intent to discriminate against only one group, the whites who would benefit if the test scores were used. If the City’s decision was disparate treatment discrimination against the white plaintiffs, what is the explanation for it also not being disparate treatment against those members of these two minority groups who were similarly situated to those white plaintiffs? Since those Hispanics and African Americans did not sue, is it simply out of sight, out of mind? 

Deciding to benefit, or not to disadvantage, most of the testtakers be they African-American, Hispanic or white inevitably, for the Court, supports drawing the inference, as a matter of law, that the City acted with an objective intent to discriminate solely against the comparatively small group of whites who were disadvantaged by that decision. Apparently, what got the City in trouble with the Supreme Court was that the City acted, knowing the racial consequences of its decision not to use the test. Of course, the City also had to know that its decision would also disadvantage some Hispanic and African-American testtakers as well as the white plaintiffs and that it would also be to the advantage of members of all three racial groups who would get a new chance to be promoted under whatever alternative promotion system the City might adopt.

Can support for this objective intent rule be found in the Title VII systemic disparate treatment cases where plaintiff establishes liability by proving the existence of an explicit, written employment policy that expressly discriminates? For example, in Los Angeles Department of Water & Power v. Manhart, plaintiffs proved that the defendant had an employment policy requiring all women to contribute more for their pensions than all men. That policy was drawn with all women on one side of the classification and all men on the other. That is not the situation in Ricci since members of all three groups fall on both sides of the line and there is no express policy to discriminate.  In International Union, UAW v. Johnson Controls, the Court found that an express employment policy excluding all fertile women but no fertile men from jobs making batteries was systemic disparate treatment even though non-fertile women and all men were not disqualified. This is not Ricci since not all members of one racial group were on one side of the line as the men were in Johnson Controls and, again, there was no express policy drawing any racial division. Those cases give little support to the idea that disparate treatment liability can be found without an express classification and with impact that leaves members of all racial groups on both sides of the line.

It is also not clear that the systemic disparate treatment cases based on statistical evidence proving the employer had an intentionally discriminatory employment practice support the holding in Ricci. In Teamsters and Hazelwood School District, the statistics established intent, even in the absence of proof that no African Americans were, respectively, over-the-road truckers or school teachers. In the situation of an “inexorable zero” of African-American truckers in Teamsters and the statistically significant absence of African-American teachers in Hazelwood is quite different from the statistics in this case where disparate treatment was found even though the white plaintiffs were only 25% of all the whites who took the test. Looking at the statistics alone, it would seems to be unlikely to support drawing an inference of intentional race discrimination against the members of any of the six groups without drawing the same inference as to the members of each of the six groups. That would not be disparate treatment discrimination.

There is support in the cases for the proposition that simply being conscious of the race or gender of the affected individuals does not support drawing an inference of intent to discriminate sufficient to support a claim of disparate treatment discrimination. Justice O’Connor, in her concurring opinion in Price Waterhouse v. Hopkins, made it clear that intent to discriminate cannot be found solely on the fact that the race or gender of the person affected by the decision is known to the decisionmaker:

“Race and gender always ‘play a role’ in . . . a benign sense that these are human characteristics of which decisionmakers are aware and may comment on in a perfectly neutral fashion. For example, . . mere reference to ‘a lady candidate’ might show that gender ‘played a role’ in the decision, but by no means could support a rational factfinder’s inference that the decision was made ‘because of’ sex.”

Similarly, in the context of equal protection law, the Court, in Personnel Administrator of Massachusetts v. Feeney, found that an absolute preference for hiring military veterans at a time when men were 98% of the veterans was not intentional discrimination against all women other than the 2% of veterans who were women even though the vast majority of women would be disqualified if even one veteran applied for the job:

“’Discriminatory purpose,’ however, implies that the decisionmaker . . . selected or reaffirmed a particular course of action at least in part ‘because of,’ not merely ‘in spite of,’ its adverse effects upon an identifiable group.”

The concurring opinion of Justice Alito in Ricci argues that the motive for the City deciding not to use the test was the mayor’s fear of the consequences of local, racialized politics aimed at him: “[W]ere the exams certified, the Mayor would incur the wrath of [Rev. Boise] Kimber and other influential leaders of New Haven’s African-American community.” Assuming that avoiding the wrath of some members of the community was what drove the decision not to use the test, the City’s announced reason for not using the tests of trying to avoid disparate impact liability seems like a pretext. But, a pretext for what? It is hard to conclude that it is a pretext for discrimination against some of the testtakers. Giving in to political pressure to benefit African-American does not equate with an intent to discriminate against some but not all white, Hispanic and African-American testtakers “because of” their race. Justice Alito’s reasoning is at odds with Hazen Paper Co. v. Biggins, where the Court, in an age discrimination case, held that an illegitimate, even unlawful, intent to discriminate to deny the plaintiff his pension simply was no evidence of age discrimination. Of course, decisions can be motivated by more than one factor, but where is the evidence of another factor other than racial politics or the subjective intent to not disadvantage African American testtakers? If anything, Justice Alito has inadvertently provided a defense in this case that the City did not think to present. Perhaps its best defense would have been to admit that the City gave into political pressures. That may be a lot of things, but it is not evidence of an intent to discriminate “because of” race against the 17 white testtakers who sued first. Whether or not what he claims was the motivation for the City’s action is true, Justice Alito’s position does not support finding the City acted with intent to discriminate against the 17 Riccii plaintiffs.

The Court appeared to take a giant leap from the fact that the City knew the racial distribution of the testtakers and the racial consequences of using the test to concluding, as a matter of law, that the decision not to use the scores was “because of” the race of one of the six different groups. With whites, Hispanics and African Americans in both groups of those affected positively and negatively by whatever decision that was made, it is hard to see where intent to discriminate because of race against these particular plaintiffs played any role at all.

Should civil rights advocates take Ricci as a progressive step forward?  Ricci does seem to have tremendous potential for changing the approach to proving intentional discrimination to the advantage of plaintiffs: Plaintiff can establish liability simply by proving that (1) the defendant knew the racial or gender consequences of its decision and (2) it then made that decision and (3) the plaintiff suffered an adverse employment impact. The intent to discriminate element, which traditionally has been the hardest to prove, becomes simply a question of the defendant’s knowledge of the racial consequences without more.  Not only is plaintiff’s burden of proving intent vastly simplified, the Court’s approach seems to knock out the linkage, the “because of” race element, that supposedly joins a defendant’s intent to discriminate to an adverse employment action suffered by the plaintiff “because of” the victim’s race. All that is necessary is proof that the defendant knew the race of those affected by the decision and that those adversely affected were of one race or another or, as in Ricci, of as many racial groups that are involved. Go back to the opening quote. Once the racial consequences of the use of the test were known, a huge debate broke out, with some claiming the use of the test was discrimination and others claiming the refusal to use the test was discrimination. The City picked one of those two outcomes and the Supreme Court found it liable for discrimination in making that choice. If the City had picked the other outcome, would not there just be a different group of plaintiffs claiming disparate treatment discrimination?

Let’s see how this works now that the City of New Haven has announced that it will implement the test scores to promote firefighters to the lieutenant and captain openings. Without more evidence, the outcome on all six groups is the same though the valence has flipped: As before some, but not all, white testtakers, Hispanic and African-American testtakers are positively affected by using the test scores and some members of all three racial groups are negatively affected.  Assuming no other proof of subjective intent to discriminate because of race against anyone, is the City nevertheless liable for intentional disparate treatment based against those newly affected by the decision to go ahead using the test scores?  Just as in Ricci, the City will be acting, knowing the racial consequences of its action. Only this time, those who were advantaged when the test scores were not used are now disadvantaged and vice versa. This makes the City damned if it does, and damned if it doesn’t. But, that is the outcome that logical consistency seems to require based on the minimalist grounds relied on to find, as a matter of law, disparate treatment discrimination in Ricci.

We may get to find out how this will be worked out since some African-American testtakers who will be disadvantaged if the City goes ahead with its plan to use the test scores have moved to intervene in Ricci at its implementation phase and have filed EEOC charges that the decision to use the test scores is both disparate treatment and disparate impact discrimination. Further, Briscoe v. City of New Haven involves a claim by an African-American testtaker that the test caused disparate impact because of how the test score were weighted with oral test scores to make the rank order list. Briscoe claims that if the weighting were different, he would be among those promoted.

Some might argue that it is wrong to put the City in the situation of being liable to the Ricci plaintiffs for deciding not to use the test scores and to the new plaintiffs for deciding to use the scores. If the standard is in fact to be “color-blind” in decisionmaking that affects employees, that is, that making a decision knowing its racial consequences is disparate treatment discrimination, the result may seem harsh but it seems logically to follow. Further, holding the City liable to both groups does not put it in the position of having mutually inconsistent obligations: Because of Ricci, those white plaintiffs will get promoted (as will the two Hispanics and, if openings subsequently occur within two years, up to three African Americans as well). Because of a disparate treatment challenge recently brought against the City for now deciding to use the test scores, these new plaintiffs also get a remedy, but it would not include replacing those promoted using the test scores. Since these new plaintiffs have yet to be determined to be qualified for promotion, presumably, the City would be ordered to establish a nondiscriminatory system of promotions. Then, if these plaintiffs successfully wend their way through that process, they would be eligible openings for lieutenants and captains that occur after the time span for the use of the test has passed. Presumably, they would receive as backpay and frontpay the difference between their pay as firefighters and lieutenant or captain salaries which would last until they are promoted into openings as they arise.

If the Court has adopted a something like an absolute “color-blind” test of intent to discriminate for Title VII, the only way employers can insulate themselves from disparate treatment liability is to make employment decisions behind a veil of ignorance as to race. Employers may have to follow the lead of symphony orchestras that have come to use blind auditions when selecting new members of the orchestra. If there was no other evidence of discrimination, the effective use of a veil of ignorance would seem to protect the decisions from claims of disparate treatment discrimination since the racial consequences were not known by the decisionmaker when the decision was made. The “cats paw” case that the Supreme Court recently granted cert. on may illuminate this area of discrimination law.

Where did this radical “color-blind” standard of disparate treatment discrimination come from and how can it be? While, during the Sotomayor nomination proceedings, some talking heads and commentators denounced empathy as a factor in judicial decision making, the Ricci majority, and the dissent, exude empathy for the white plaintiffs who did go to great effort and expense to prepare for the exam and thought they won the prize: test scores high enough to result in their promotions to lieutenant and captain positions. The decision not to use the test scores dashed those expectations. Justice Kennedy expressed it this way:

“[A]fter the tests were completed, the raw racial results became the predominant rationale for the City’s refusal to certify the results. The injury arises in part from the high, and justified, expectations of the candidates who had participated in the testing process on the terms the City had established for the promotional process. Many of the candidates had studied for months, at considerable personal and financial expense, and thus the injury caused by the City’s reliance on raw racial statistics at the end of the process was all the more severe.” 

One way of looking at this from a technical point of view is that the Court feels compelled to justify finding that the reduced opportunity for promotion which resulted from the decision not to use the test scores was sufficiently adverse to satisfy the “adverse employment action” element of a disparate treatment discrimination case. Without finding some present impact on these white testtakers, it might be hard to conclude that they had suffered an adverse employment action. Dashing an earned reliance interest does provide an adverse employment action even though nothing has actually happened to these plaintiffs or, in fact, to any of the testtakers. But Justice Kennedy seems to make much more out of this. It appears to be the basis for jumping past the “because of” element of a disparate treatment case so that racial consciousness satisfies the intent to discriminate element which establishes liability when an adverse employment action results from that decision, whether or not that decision was “because of race.” 

Another way of looking at this earned reliance interest issue is as a limit on the scope of application of this newly announced disparate treatment doctrine: The employer does not commit disparate treatment discrimination if its decision that is based on the known racial consequences precedes the creation of reliance interests in anyone. Planning to use some sort of employment practice, such as the written test in Ricci, can include the employer projecting what the racial consequences of that use of that practice might be and revising the plan so as to reduce disparate impact, just as long as all the action takes place before anyone has a reliance interest in the implementation of the employment practice. This meaning seems consistent with Justice Kennedy’s concurring opinion in Parents Involved, as to the ability of school boards to act to establish school attendance policies that take account of the racial populations of the different schools just as long as race is not used to decide the school to which individual students will be assigned. So, not all action when the racial consequences are known constitutes disparate treatment discrimination. But the employer must be “color-blind” when some employees have an established reliance interest. So, perhaps, employers need not establish race-blind procedures to make all employment decisions, as long as no one has any established reliance interest as stake. An important new issue will be, therefore, when reliance interests are created because, once they are, risk averse employers will use race-blind procedures.

Does anyone believe that Ricci is a tremendous progressive step making employment discrimination cases very much easier for plaintiffs? Will a majority of the Court now empathize with the African-American plaintiffs who have challenged the use of the test scores in Ricci as disparate treatment discrimination against them?  If a majority of the Court avoids finding liability as to them, how will they support such a decision, given  the logical consequences of its move toward a color-blind standard of liability in this race conscious society of ours?

Beginning in the late 1980s, when I was in practice, I and other lawyers participated in incubating the market for financial derivatives and securitization transactions. In the beginning, these deals were nowhere near as exciting as the same period’s newly-exciting mergers and acquisitions and finance practices. We would prepare one-off interest rate swap form contracts on a small scale. We would package credit card accounts receivable into pools for sale to investors. But this practice area became increasingly exciting through the 1990s and 2000s as derivatives and securitization deals proliferated and came to form whole departments in law firms, rivaling mergers and acquisitions groups in glamour and revenue.

In the early 1990s, when I entered corporate law teaching, there was much exciting academic work being done, the culmination of what Yale corporate law scholar Roberta Romano heralded as a “revolution” in corporate law scholarship which, in the 1960s and 1970s, at least, had been dull. In that earlier period, the focus, in practice and the academy, was merely on positive, doctrinal law, mostly statutes, and on the old-fashioned duties managers owed to shareholders, often meaning practicing lawyers telling creative clients “no” when innovative ideas would violate longstanding duties.

Beginning in the 1980s, the focus in both turned to innovative deals, especially highly-leveraged hostile takeovers and what courts should do about them. Scholarship studied market behavior, looking empirically at deal effects on stock prices, how quickly and accurately information was absorbed into stock prices, how to measure investment risk and value. Important strands of this scholarship, and resulting law, urged facilitating these debt-financed deals.

In practice and scholarship, intensifying through the 1980s and into the 1990s, transactional and financial innovation was the rage. Corporate lawyers turned innovative, cutting edge, exciting, doing deals, developing new contractual devices for financial products—including those I worked on. Corporate law scholars took up finance theory with alacrity, doing exciting research showing how this innovation worked, with many producers and devotees of this work arguing how law should give it maximal space to flourish (though there were dissenters from this dominant view, including me).

As recently as 2005, Professor Romano, a leading scholar in this dominant style, urged doing more of it, more innovative financial engineering in practice and more finance oriented and exciting research in the academy. Professor Romano urged law schools to develop programs in law and finance to assist promoting this excitement, in practice and research, reporting how her school created a degree program in law and finance to seal the exciting links between law and finance and between cutting-edge law practice and legal scholarship.

Earlier this year, on a corporate law panel at the annual meeting of the Association of American Law Schools, though, Professor Romano said the program had attracted little interest among students. As Matt Bodie reports, panel discussion included talk of how the exciting finance models had failed and yet how problematic it is to design corporate law absent reliable empirical information. Professor Bodie wisely wondered whether these facts and lamentations spelled the end of the “revolution” in corporate law—a “post-post-revolution” period.

That makes me wonder, is it an inherent virtue for corporate law practice and scholarship to be exciting, or is being dull okay? Would the world be better off if more participants in corporate life were as dull as corporate lawyers used to be? Is it okay to tell clients “no, you can’t do that,” or, as I recall one stodgy old Cravath lawyer tell a client back in the late 1980s, “you can do that, but be prepared to go to jail”?

The main thrust of Ricci focused on the disparate impact issue and its implications will likely be worked out in Briscoe v. City of New Haven, a disparate impact case brought against the City because it has now used the test scores challenged in Ricci. In Ricci, the City argued that its decision not to use the test scores was made to avoid the risk of disparate impact liability to the African-American testtakers who would not be promoted if the test scores were used.  The Court conceded, as did all the parties, that the use of the test scores would have resulted in a disparate impact on African-American testtakers. Using the “pass rate,” or cutoff score that was set for the test, less than 80% of the minority testtakers passed. More important, the actual use of the test among those who passed would have excluded from immediate promotion all the African Americans and all but two of the 22 Hispanic testtakers. (Three African Americans might have some chance for promotion if new openings occurred in the future during the life cycle of the test.) With that prima facie case of disparate impact discrimination conceded, the focus moved to the business necessity and job relatedness affirmative defense and the plaintiff’s surrebuttal possibility of showing that an alternative was available that served the interests of the City but resulted in less impact.

Given the posture of the case – using the risk of disparate impact liability as a defense to a disparate treatment claim – the City had the burden to prove that it would not be likely to carry its burden of proving the test’s business necessity and job relatedness or that disparate impact plaintiffs would likely be able to prove an alternative way promote to promote firefighters that had less impact. The Court rejected the arguments that the City had to prove it would actually lose such a disparate impact case or that its good faith belief sufficed. Instead, the City had to have a “strong basis in evidence” for believing it would be liable for disparate impact discrimination. In other words, it should be somewhat easier for the City to win the issue of its potential risk of disparate impact liability than it would be if disparate impact plaintiffs actually had to prove the City liable for disparate impact discrimination.

The major focus of the Court turned to whether the City showed it had a strong basis in the evidence that the test was neither “job related for the position in question [nor] consistent with business necessity.” Long story short, the City had spent a lot of money hiring a test consultant who did an analysis of the lieutenant and captain jobs and then drafted a written test asking questions about information relevant to the jobs. Instead of jumping from job analysis to test writing, the next step should have been, at least under the EEOC’s Uniform Guidelines on Selection Procedures, deciding what kind of test should be constructed, if any, and what strategy should be used to validate the test. Under the classic approach established by the professional standards of industrial psychologists, a pen-and-pencil written test for a job that did not require the workers to take such tests as part of the job would have to be validated using criterion-related validation.

Criterion-related validation would require giving the test, hiring all the testtakers, doing a subsequent evaluation of their job performance and then running a correlation coefficient to determine whether the test scores correlated with their subsequent job performance scores. Since criterion-related validation is not used out in the real world, the City’s test consultant simply argued that the written test was content valid, i.e., that the written test was a sample of the lieutenant and captain jobs even though test taking was not part of the job.

Relying on content validation, even though it technically was inappropriate for this written test, would not be not risky if the City had been sued for disparate impact discrimination. Basically, the lower courts have upheld pen-and-pencil tests as content valid even though the job did not require workers to take pen-and-pencil tests as long as the defendants had spent some real money constructing and administering the tests and the test questions asked about the job. So, given the judicial abandonment of the professional test validation standards and if business necessity and job relatedness were the only issues, the City would have prevailed on its affirmative defense. With the test being held to be validated, the City could use it. So, on the issue of the validity of the written test, it is no surprise that the Supreme Court found as a matter of law that the test was job-related and justified by business necessity. If that was the only issue, the City would lack a “strong basis” in evidence that it faced disparate impact liability if it had used the test results.

But, even if a defendant proves its written test is job-related and justified by business necessity, the plaintiff has one more bite at the apple. That is by showing that the employer refused to adopt an available alternative that had less disparate impact and served the employer’s legitimate needs. The Court did discuss this and, in light of the weak “available alternative” authority that has been developed in the lower courts, it is not surprising that it found that the City lacked a “strong basis” in evidence that potential disparate impact plaintiffs would prevail on their available alternative surrebuttal claim. While shifting the weighting of the written and oral scores to reduce reliance on the written part of the exam would be an alternative that the Court indicated would have reduced the test’s disparate impact, that was not enough to establish that the test was illegal. The Court found that the City produced no evidence to show that a different weighting would be equally valid in determining who was qualified. In other words, an alternative that reduced the impact of the test was a necessary but not sufficient condition for this surrebuttal stage. There would also have to be a strong basis in the evidence that a change in weighting the scores would have adequately served the employer’s interests. While there was some testimony before the City when it was making its decision whether or not to use the test scores that the City of Bridgeport had reduced the disparate impact of its written exams by changing its weighting with an oral score, the City did not have before it any evidence that doing this would serve the City’s legitimate interests. This is a bit debatable since the claim was made that the revised system used by Bridgeport worked just fine. All in all, applying the prevailing lower court authority to this pen-and-pencil exam, it was likely that the City would not have a strong basis in evidence that it would be liable if it used the test scores. In sum, the Court pretty much applied the prevailing authority from the lower courts regarding job-relatedness, business necessity and available alternatives in deciding that the City would have won, not lost, a disparate impact challenge if it had used the test scores for promotion.

This is where the recent, post-Ricci disparate impact claim, Briscoe v. City of New Haven, comes in. Plaintiff, an African American firefighter who took the test at the same time as the Ricci plaintiffs, claims that he would have been promoted if the weighting were changed and that the weighting of 60/40 favoring the written component had a disparate impact on African Americans. Further, he claims the City knew, even before it decided to use a written test for promotions, that using this 60/40 weighting would have a disparate impact. Nothing was done about the weighting issue because it was a longstanding feature of the collective bargaining agreement between the City and the firefighters’ union even thought the existence of that contract obligation would not be a defense to a disparate impact claim. Briscoe’s claim of impact is that, of the 77 candidates for the lieutenant position, he scored the highest on the oral part of the exam, but his overall score using the 60/40 weighting left him 24^th on the list and thus not eligible to be promoted. His complaint alleges:

“The City did not believe that the 60 percent weighting that it required was job related, and it knew that the weighting would have a disparate impact on African-American candidates: for example, on the lieutenant exam immediately preceding the 2003 exam, the African-American candidates as a group performed substantially better than the white candidates on the oral exam, but they were scored much lower overall because of the 60 percent weighting given to the written test.”

The job-relatedness of the written test, as decided in Ricci, is irrelevant to Briscoe’s claim because he focuses on the impact and job-relatedness of the weight given to the written test scores, not the test itself, when those scores were combined with the oral scores to rank order those who would be promoted. The claim relies on Connecticut v Teal, where the Court upheld a disparate impact challenge to part of an overall selection process – the use of a written test – even though there was no disparate impact resulting at the end of the whole selection process. In Teal, African-American plaintiffs had flunked a written exam and so were not eligible to continue further in the selection process. Because of the impact that the written test scores had in the overall process, they could challenge the test even though when the hiring decisions were finally made there was not a disparate impact on African Americans among those hired.  

Briscoe tries to escape Ricci entirely by making his disparate impact based on fact that the liability of the City is triggered by events that all occurred before the test was administered, before the consequences in terms of the scores of different groups were known and before the City decided not to use the test results because it knew the racial consequences of using the scores. Thus, the argument will be whether or not Ricci has any relevance because Ricci’s focus was at a time after the test had been given, its racial impact was known, including the racial composition of those who would be promoted if the scores were used. In Ricci, Justice Kennedy seems to emphasize that the case focuses on what happened once the test was given.

“Nor do we question an employer’s affirmative efforts to ensure that all groups have a fair opportunity to apply for promotions and to participate in the process by which promotions will be made. But once that process has been established and employers have made clear their selection criteria, they may not then invalidate the test results, thus upsetting an employee’s legitimate expectation not to be judged on the basis of race. . . . Title VII does not prohibit an employer from considering, before administering a test or practice, how to design that test or practice in order to provide a fair opportunity for all individuals, regardless of their race.”

That suggests that when the City was planning to use the written test it was required to look, rather than being restrained from looking, at the potential disparate impact of its subsequent use. In other words, Ricci only comes to bear once a test has been given and the successful testtakers have an established reliance interest in its use.

Assuming that the earlier time frame does makes Ricci irrelevant to his claim, Briscoe focuses his attack on the disparate impact of the weighting of the written and oral scores and not the rest of the test as it was constructed by the test consultant. Again, the complaint alleges that:       

“If the oral exam were weighed 60 percent and the written test 40 percent instead of the other way around, the plaintiff would be ranked ninth instead of 24^th and would be promotable. . . . If the written test were not considered [at all], . . three African-Americans would be in the top 12, and the plaintiff would be at the top of the list.”

Briscoe looks more deeply at the issue of what caused the disparate impact in the City’s promotion process than the simple recognition in Ricci that, at the end of the day, the City’s selection process caused a disparate impact on the basis of race. Based on Teal, the weighting element of the selection would appear to make out a prima facie case of disparate impact discrimination. That was not addressed in Ricci because that case focused on the justification, the job-relatedness, of the written test itself, not how the test results were to be used. 

If Briscoe establishes a prima facie case on the weighting issue, the burden of persuasion shifts to the City to demonstrate that the weighting formula it used was “job related for the position in question and consistent with business necessity.” The only evidence in Ricci about the weighting was whether it was an available alternative, an issue upon which the City failed to carry its burden of persuasion. That does not address the business necessity issue as to the weighting at all. And, even if the City did prove that the weighting formula it used was job related and consistent with business necessity, that should still leave to plaintiff the chance to prove that a different weighting formula was an available alternative that the City knew of and failed to adopt. Just because the City failed to carry its burden on that issue in Ricci, would not seem to bar Briscoe from carrying his burden unless the Ricci Court meant that, as a matter of law, the alternative of changing the weighting was not an available alternative. 

While Ricci seemed to adopt the weakened use of the professional test validation standards to justify a written test as job-related for jobs that did not involve test taking, that decision may not foreclose Briscoe. And, of course, if Briscoe is successful, that will have no negative impact on the Ricci plaintiffs, who have been and will be promoted using the results of the test that the Ricci plaintiffs and Briscoe took. If the City failed to carry its burden of proving that the weighting of the written and oral scores was job-related and consistent with business necessity, Briscoe would be entitled to a remedy. Presumably, the City would be ordered to adopt a new promotion process that would either not result in any disparate impact or, if it did, was job-related and consistent with business necessity. Briscoe would then be subjected to the new process and, if he showed himself to be qualified, would get the first opening for lieutenant after the cycle of use of the Ricci test was completed. He should also receive backpay plus front pay until he gets his promotion, with that determined by the difference between his earnings as a firefighter and what he would have earned as a lieutenant.  If, however, the City proved the test was valid but Briscoe proved on surrebuttal that an alternative was available, Briscoe would have to show that he was qualified if that alternative was used. If he did, he would be entitled to promotion once the Ricci test had run its course and back and front pay until that happens.

Given the success of the Ricci plaintiffs’ disparate treatment claim and assuming Briscoe will be successful on his disparate impact claim, the City of New Haven would appear to be damned for not considering the disparate impact before it set up the promotion procedure and then also damned for trying to take account of that impact once the test was given and the reliance interests of the successful testtakers had been established. But relief to the Ricci plaintiffs is not in conflict with relief to Briscoe: The Ricci plaintiffs get the promotions earned by their test scores and Briscoe would likely get the next opening of a lieutenant slot after the cycle for the use of the test had ended.

With that result, there would certainly be strong incentives for employers to investigate the potential disparate impact of any employment practices before using it and either modifying it to avoid that impact or be confident that its use can be shown to be job-related with consistent with business necessity with no alternative available to its use. Further, once the employment practice is implemented and there exists identifiable people who have legitimate expectations that their success pursuant to that practice would be followed, then it is likely too late for employers to refuse to honor those expectations. To fail to use the results of the practice would trigger disparate treatment liability unless the employer had a “strong basis in evidence” that it would be liable for disparate impact discrimination. One wonders, of course, whether an employer can prevent the creation of any expectations, or reliance interests, by making it clear from the start that the employer reserves the right not to use the results of the employment practice it uses.

THE LAST LAWYER

By John Temple, author of The Last Lawyer

Unlike many authors who set out to write about hot-button issues, I was not motivated by ideology, but rather by a journalistic impulse — what Tom Wolfe calls the desire to chronicle “the way we live now.”

About 10 years ago, I saw a news brief about a team of lawyers who were flying in to Texas to defend a man who faced a looming execution date. It had never occurred to me that there were lawyers who specialized in last-minute capital appeals. That was a book, I thought. It would have the scope, the ticking-clock narrative, the characters with goals.

In 2004, I began looking for the right setting. I settled on North Carolina. It had a large death row, an organization exclusively devoted to fighting death sentences (the Center for Death Penalty Litigation), and it was within driving distance of my home in West Virginia. I contacted Ken Rose, the executive director of the CDPL, and explained my plan. He helped me arrange a visit to Durham to meet some attorneys who might have a case I could follow. He was clear that he thought the attorney should be someone other than himself.

In May of that year, I drove to Durham and spent the first couple of days interviewing CDPL attorneys, including Ken. None of the other lawyers were litigating cases that seemed quite right for my idea. Meanwhile, I was growing more interested in Ken, a self-effacing, driven man who’d been doing the work for more than a quarter-century. But Ken brushed aside my queries about his own cases.

At Ken’s request, I had carried along a manuscript of my then-unpublished first book, Deadhouse: Life in a Coroner’s Office. I was nervous to give it to him because it was a book about courts and homicide cases, Ken’s area of expertise. I worried he’d find something offensive – or worse, incorrect – and cut off my access.

But he read the manuscript in one night, and the next day, he gave it back to me without much comment. Whatever he’d thought, he had apparently come to a conclusion. He sat back on his couch and said the words I’d been hoping to hear: “You know, I have a case you might be interested in.”

“Tell me about it,” I said.

That was the beginning of my four-and-a-half year journey into the world of capital post-conviction law. But just because Ken was willing to share the story of one of his cases for me didn’t mean that I had gained full access to the case. For the next several months, Ken and his co-counsel and I negotiated an agreement that would give me the detail I needed to write a full and honest account of the case.

We eventually struck a deal. They agreed to give me full access to their case files and allow me to shadow them during strategy sessions and witness interviews.
In exchange, I made several concessions. I agreed not to publish the book until the case had reached some sort of conclusion, whether that meant a reduced sentence, exoneration, or execution. This was difficult because capital post-conviction cases can drag on for decades, and I had not yet earned tenure. It was a gamble, but one I was willing to take, because I simply didn’t want to write a book about an unfinished case.

I also agreed to let the CDPL lawyers read the book before I published it, though I would retain full editorial control. As a former newspaper reporter, I’d been trained to never allow sources to read your work before publication. However, I didn’t think the rationale behind this journalistic tradition applied to a book of this scope. Why not give sources the chance to correct factual errors, I thought, especially when I had retained editorial control on a story that was years in the making? It wasn’t a difficult concession.

After all the years of work, the book is now finished, and we all adhered to our agreement. When I sent Ken Rose the completed manuscript last year, I was very concerned about his reaction. Some parts of the book paint him in an unflattering light, and he’s not a guy who loves the limelight in the first place.

Though he was initially concerned about a few aspects, and clearly uncomfortable in the role of the book’s protagonist, Ken has handled the book’s publication in the most gracious manner. He recently participated in a panel discussion with me at West Virginia University, and has invited me to North Carolina to speak together.

It’s impossible to sum up what I learned over this five-year journey, but from a writer’s standpoint, I’ll offer what I deem to be the biggest lessons. First and above all else, choose a subject that fuels your passion, because when things break down or seem like they might not work out (as was the case for an almost 18-month span during my reporting), you’ll need that inner strength to continue. Second, don’t be afraid to jump outside of your comfort zone. It felt awkward and “unjournalistic” to allow the characters in my book to read the manuscript before publication, but the product was much more accurate as a result. Finally, a little luck can never hurt — and a happy ending is the icing on the cake.