New York City has always been known as the site of change, ambition, and hope. Now, it faces a profound crisis: New York City cannot house its people. The city’s towering skyline hides a grim reality—shelter, the most basic human necessity, has become a luxury beyond reach for many. This housing crisis casts a shadow not only over current residents but also over the thousands who dream of calling the city home. Forbes projects that by 2032, New York City will fall short by 500,000 housing units. New York City hardly stands alone; this problem prevails across the United States.

The Roberts Court has handed down a slew of consequential decisions since Donald Trump came into office, with the most recent critical cases being Snyder v. United States (2024) and Securities Exchange Commission v. Jarkesy (2023). These decisions represent a shifting attitude towards white-collar criminal prosecution––one where the onus is on prosecutors and regulatory agencies to go above and beyond, while financial criminals can more easily get away with their fraudulent acts. In Snyder, the Court ruled on the issue of bribing public officials; it held that there is a difference between bribes and gratuities, or tips, so the federal bribery statute cannot apply in the case of gratuities given for past actions that were never stipulated in a quid pro quo agreement. Similarly, in Jarkesy the Court sidestepped Congress and held that securities fraud cases must be heard by an Article III court with a jury instead of in an administrative hearing, as it typically would through the SEC. All in all, the Roberts Court has similarly decided in Percoco v. United States (2023), Kelly v. United States (2020), and McDonnell v. United States (2016). The Roberts Court has established a position of leniency towards white collar criminals, as demonstrated by its Trump-era rulings which limit the scope of prosecutorial authority and narrow interpretation of fraud statutes.       

In 2024, the Clean Water Act (CWA) returned to the forefront of environmental law amid a new legal controversy within the Supreme Court. On October 16, the City and County of San Francisco challenged the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) in the Supreme Court over a pollution discharge permit reissued by the agency. This case comes in the aftermath of the Supreme Court’s decision in Loper Price Enterprises v. Raimondo (2024) to overrule the precedent of Chevron Deference, which allowed courts to defer the interpretation of ambiguous statutes to relevant agencies. In the past, the CWA has faced four separate challenges related to the definition of “waters of the United States” (WOTUS), representing a larger trend of reigning in the Act’s jurisdiction. Ultimately, the Supreme Court’s decisions in these cases were made with deference to the agency’s ecological judgments. However, ongoing questions regarding the scope of the CWA in the absence of Chevron Deference have become increasingly prevalent at the Supreme Court. Most recently the Supreme Court addressed these questions in the case of The City and County of San Francisco v. Environmental Protection Agency (2024). The Supreme Court’s pending decision, if based in legal precedent, will likely further restrict the agency’s interpretation of the law. This can potentially leave many formerly regulated waters unprotected by the CWA, with significant consequences for both water quality and flood prevention.

In 2020, the presidential election garnered the highest voter turnout in the 21st century, with an increase in ballots from 2016 to 2020 that totaled 17 million. Additionally, 69% of voters in 2020 used nontraditional voting methods, such as mail-in and early voting. With the outcome of the 2024 presidential election looming, the accessibility of nontraditional voting methods, specifically absentee ballots, is in danger as legislators and political groups seek to restrict these methods operating under the pretense of protecting election security, removing errors and delays, and the claimed “illegality” of these methods. Conservatives in states like Missouri and Pennsylvania have led legal challenges to limit widespread access to absentee ballots as statistics show Democrats are more likely to vote by mail. Recent state-level cases reveal attempts to suppress absentee ballot access, a development facilitated by the Supreme Court’s unsubstantiated ruling in Shelby County v. Holder (2013). The holding in this case disproportionately affects marginalized communities in the form of stricter ID requirements and more stringent mail-in conditions, especially in areas with historically low voter turnout.

On March 27, 2022, the Legislative Assembly of El Salvador granted President Nayib Bukele’s request to declare a national state of emergency, informally declaring war on gangs in line with the iron fist policies that have dominated Latin American politics for decades. This legislative power is enshrined in the second section of Title II, Chapter I of the Salvadoran constitution, which limits the length of the state of emergency to 30 days. However, as of October 2024, it has been re-declared over twenty-four times. Under it, two percent of the adult population has been incarcerated, with human rights abuses, including arbitrary arrests, suspension of due process and free speech, and alleged prison torture, becoming institutionalized. This same pattern of state of emergency declarations and constitutional and human rights law deterioration has been seen throughout the region, including in Venezuela and Honduras. However, this backsliding can not only be attributed to antidemocratic leaders but also the language of provisions for states of emergency and the broader way in which national constitutions incorporate international laws. These two factors are crucial in determining the survivability of human rights. Serving as a useful counterexample to the Salvadoran case is South Africa’s constitution and case law, which was created in part to address the apartheid regime’s abuse of states of emergency.

As technology permeates every aspect of modern life, the legal frameworks meant to protect individual privacy are struggling to address the rapid advancements in digital tracking and artificial intelligence (AI). The recent dismantling of the Chevron deference has only exacerbated this legal uncertainty by shifting interpretive authority from specialized federal agencies to the state judiciary. The result is a fragmented, inconsistent landscape where outdated privacy laws are being applied by courts ill-equipped to police the complexities of modern technologies. Without uniform federal guidance, businesses are forced to navigate a patchwork of state rulings, while consumers are left vulnerable to privacy breaches. With only 20 out of 50 states having enacted privacy legislation, the removal of Chevron deference will open significant regulatory gaps, as increased legal scrutiny of federal agencies decreases their regulatory power. This leaves the correct application of legislation to court interpretation, creating fragmented privacy protections that harm consumers and businesses across multiple jurisdictions.

Local government is big government. Its allotted power affects every single American. The United States’ municipal governments employ around 14 million people, more than federal and all state governments combined. These mass political bodies are primarily governed by Home Rule or Dillon’s Rule, and evolving legal limitations of both theories define local government authority. The recent Supreme Court decision in City of Grants Pass v. Johnson removes a barrier for local governments looking to expand power, creating a political body that can maneuver legal challenges presented by the Cruel and Unusual Punishment Clause through Home Rule favorability. 

The state of Oklahoma prides itself on being the “Home of Native America” because of its rich Native American history and large sums of reservation land — but what is this historically Native state doing to protect its citizens that live on designated reservation land? The state of Oklahoma was recently overturned in the 2020 court ruling entitled McGirt v. Oklahoma. This case emerged after a member of the Seminole Nation of Oklahoma, who was charged with multiple serious sex crimes, appealed his conviction by claiming that the state of Oklahoma had no jurisdiction in his case because of the location of his crimes — on Native land. In their historic decision siding against the state of Oklahoma, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that, due to upwards of 40% of Oklahoma’s geography being defined as Native reservation land, independent Native governments have sovereign power over criminal cases on their land. The palpable result of this ruling was the revoking of all involvement from state governments. This decision of tribal jurisdiction outraged many Oklahomans because of a skyrocket in criminal activity; Cherokee courts alone saw a rise from 100 criminal cases per year to 4,000 criminal cases per year. In addition to this extreme increase in crime, Oklahomans were outraged because they believed this decision was a breach of the constitutional right for federalism. Article I Section VIII of the Constitution states that power should be divided between central and regional powers. Because the state of Oklahoma would no longer hold any precedent over criminal proceedings, Oklahoma residents felt as if Native governments were being given too much power over these matters with none of the checks and balances that come from divisions of legal power. This poses the concern of whether or not McGirt v. Oklahoma (2020) has a constitutional precedent on the basis of federalism. When analyzing constitutional amendments, revisions of acts passed in favor of tribal jurisdiction, and more recent Supreme Court rulings, it is apparent that the McGirt v. Oklahoma decision is constitutionally in line with the definitions and demands of federalism.

Are new and upcoming artists protected from established artists copyrighting their music without credit, therefore devaluing their derivative works and hindering their career trajectory? 

Copyright protection, derived from Article 1, Section 8, Clause 8 of the United States Constitution, encourages artists to create new works, profit off of these works, and retain exclusive rights, such as the right to control how their work is used or reproduced. Tension arises when an artist wants to create a new work inspired by a produced piece. The courts have heard several cases on this issue, such as Campbell V. Acuff-Rose Music (1994), which determined how the four parameters in the Copyright Act of 1976 can be used to evaluate Fair Use, or if the reuse of original material is legal. However, this is left to the judges' subjectivity as courts rule on a case-by-case basis. Copyright infringement therefore is ruled in some cases, but slips through the cracks in others. Often, exploitation occurs when prominent artists claim that they have fairly transformed an original piece, using legal resources to combat allegations of theft from upcoming artists. 

On October 8th, 2024, as Hurricane Milton barrelled towards Florida’s Gulf Coast, Tampa Mayor Jane Castor urged her constituents to escape from imminent death. However, at another press conference barely twenty-four hours before Mayor Castor’s statement, Florida Governor Ron DeSantis insisted that "nothing" was inhibiting Floridians from meeting the voter registration deadline of October 7th. This discrepancy was noted by the League of Women Voters of Florida and the State’s NAACP chapter, and the two groups promptly filed an emergency motion to extend the registration deadline. The motion argued that the state government’s refusal to extend the deadline, in light of Hurricanes Milton and Helene, was potentially disenfranchising tens of thousands of Floridians. Yet, this is not a new nor unique case.

The role of the judiciary has become a contentious debate in light of several controversial cases. Professor Richard Garnett asserts,“Judges do not have the power to enact legislation.” This statement, emphasized in the majority opinion of the precedent overturned by the Supreme Court, echoes a broader constitutional question: what powers truly belong to the judiciary? This question has come to the forefront as Dobbs v. Jackson (2022) overturned the landmark decision in Roe v. Wade (1973), which legalized abortion nationwide. The decision ignited debate over the Supreme Court’s role in defining fundamental rights—with some arguing that fundamental rights should be limited to those explicitly enumerated in the Constitution while others believe they can include rights implied by broader principles, such as privacy or dignity. This reveals longstanding tensions within American constitutional law.

In April of 2024, twenty-three state attorneys general signed a petition calling for the United States Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) to cease its use of disparate impact regulations, citing concerns of unlawfulness and “racial engineering.” These disparate impact regulations are a set of administrative rules that prohibit any programs receiving EPA funding from causing disproportionate negative effects towards certain groups of people based on race, color, or national origin. Disparate impact regulations are distinct from, yet exist alongside, regulations that prohibit intentional discrimination. Like other federal agencies with similar policies, the EPA bases these regulations on Title VI of the Civil Rights Act. Title VI contains two relevant provisions: § 601, which bars any programs or activities receiving federal funding from discriminating based on race, color, or national origin, and § 602, which enables federal agencies to effectuate § 601 by implementing policies regulating the behavior of said programs or activities.

In 1998, Congress passed the Children’s Online Privacy Protection Act (COPPA) in response to growing concerns over the dissemination of children’s personal information on the Internet. COPPA set privacy standards for websites directed toward children under thirteen, requiring websites to provide notice about data collection practices and to obtain verifiable parental consent before collecting a child’s personal information. At the time, this legislation was a groundbreaking move to protect children’s privacy in an emerging digital world. However, over two decades later, COPPA has proven inadequate in addressing the complex and evolving landscape of data collection technologies.

Mark Lanier in his closing statement of the landmark opioid litigation trial, Trumbull County v. Purdue Pharma L.P., pulled out a model bridge made of Legos. Lanier argued that one Lego could make the bridge topple down, attributing his anecdote to the many components of the opioid crisis: Though one misstep led to nationwide addiction, all are responsible in some way. Abuse of both prescription opiates and illicitly distributed pain medications has devastated American cities for decades and can be traced back to corporations marketing the “miracle drug” to vulnerable populations. The result of these corporations’ distribution and marketing of opioid products is still prevalent today, with opioid overdose deaths rising from 49,860 in 2019 to 81,806 in 2022. Opioid litigation in recent years has attempted to remedy the loss and damage caused by the epidemic worsened by opioid corporations. By applying public nuisance law, a doctrine not typically used in medical litigation, and targeting the responsibility of specific parties within the opioid distribution chain, plaintiffs may be able to successfully abate billions of dollars in damage.

Survivors of domestic violence find themselves trapped in the painful paradox of experiencing imminent danger in the very places that should offer safety. Legal safeguards, such as court-issued restraining orders, aim to offer protection, yet survivors remain vulnerable—an especially lethal reality when domestic abusers have access to firearms. In United States v. Rahimi (2023), the U.S. Supreme Court examined the contentious intersection between the danger to public safety posed by intimate partner violence and one’s Second Amendment rights. Examining the constitutionality of 18 U.S.C. § 922(g)(8)—a provision of the Gun Control Act that restricts firearm possession by individuals under domestic violence protective orders—requires balancing historical interpretations of firearm laws with the contemporary realities of domestic violence, an issue far more visible and recognized today than in the past.

Every New Yorker has their own subway horror story: being packed like sardines on the 1 train after rush hour, getting stuck in a car without AC for 40 minutes, or encountering that one passenger who’s a little too comfortable talking to strangers. Yet a recent study revealed a more distressing scenario for the millions of commuters who rely on the Metropolitan Transit Authority’s (MTA) services daily: exposure to dangerous levels of air pollution, linked to lung cancer and heart disease. Iron-infused inhalable particles known as PM 2.5 are thrown up into the air as trains screech into stations, creating a toxic environment for waiting passengers. Inside the cabins, outdated air filtration systems struggle to suppress the pollution.

What obligations does a country under war have to democracy? The question remains unanswered for Ukraine. In the case of Ukraine’s 2024 presidential election, the impact of martial law on the democratic process is particularly ambiguous. Currently, Ukraine is an aspiring liberal democracy; however, this contentious position depends on Ukraine’s commitment to upholding the democratic values of its peers. In its attempts to join international institutions such as the European Union (EU) and the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), Ukraine has strived to demonstrate its increasingly democratic governing mechanisms. However, after the escalation of the Russo-Ukrainian War in 2022, the Ukrainian government instituted martial law, which continues to present a dilemma for the Ukrainian people. Despite their understanding that wartime actions require increased legal flexibility, Ukrainian citizens are also entitled to democratic norms and privileges. Accordingly, Ukraine has a legal imperative to hold its 2024 presidential election because the cancellation of its election violates several international covenants and treaties and violates its own martial law due to the unlawful seizure of power.

Historically, the sunshine state has been America’s hotspot for beach-goers and citrus farmers, and now, adding to that list is a new accolade—the epicenter of America’s book ban craze. In 2023, nearly two thousand, seven hundred titles were targeted for restriction or removal in the state, almost double the state with the second-most challenges. The frequency of these bans is likely due to the ease of the removal process which was enacted and implemented by the Florida Senate’s House Bill 1069 (HB 1069). However, it seems some parents are resisting the censorship craze. In June 2024, three Florida parents filed a lawsuit in federal court against the Florida Board of Education. The plaintiffs allege that the State Review Process instituted by HB 1069 violates the First Amendment ban on viewpoint discrimination. These plaintiffs face opposition from state politicians and parent groups, both of which utilize the diction of ‘parental rights’ to establish a basis for their involvement in regulating student curricula. Such uses of ‘parental rights’ usually refer to a nebulous set of rights not defined in any legal context.

“Girlhood” is the decisive period of a young woman’s life in which she learns about her beliefs, the world around her, and most importantly, herself. For many young girls, this phase is propelled by having social experiences, developing familial relationships, and obtaining a consistent education to be properly equipped for the next chapter of their lives. Whether a young girl decides to pursue motherhood or search for an occupation or both, education is a crucial factor in a girl’s development. In Mozambique, going to school is a milestone for many girls and young women due to the social barriers that prevent them from regularly attending school, if at all. Since the country holds the fifth highest rate of child marriage in the world and the highest rate of child pregnancy in East and Southern Africa, many young women are forced to sacrifice their education to raise their family. In failing to provide safe, accessible education to its youth population, particularly its young women, Mozambique has violated the Convention on the Rights of the Child. While the country has attempted to alleviate these obstacles through signing treaties, declarations, and reincorporating alternative policies, these challenges have persisted and further hindered girls’ access to education.

In August 2017, a team of scientists at the Oregon Health & Science University (OHSU) successfully edited the DNA of a human embryo using CRISPR-Cas9, repairing a genetic defect that causes a debilitating disease. The excitement in the room was palpable as they witnessed a historic moment that could change the future of medicine. However, as they celebrated this scientific breakthrough, ethical questions loomed large. What if this powerful tool were used to create so-called “designer babies” or to enhance physical or cognitive traits? Who would regulate such profound capabilities?

 In June 2022, the United States Supreme Court decided on the case Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, ruling the United States Constitution does not guarantee women the right to an abortion. This landmark holding overturned decades worth of precedent set by Roe v. Wade (1973). Citing the Due Process Clause of the 14th Amendment, the court in Roe recognized a woman’s right to terminate her pregnancy with different standards of availability depending on the trimester. The Court decided Dobbs with a six-to-three vote, six conservative justices in the majority and the remaining three justices fervently dissenting. The decision returned the question of abortion accessibility to the states. 

The digital age fosters ingenious yet unprecedented developments, such as using generative AI to streamline typical human resource processes. More companies are using generative AI to source and select candidates, assess current employees, and determine layoffs. However, under the guise of great efficiency and innovation lies an even greater ethical and legal problem: the use of AI technology to hire, assess, and fire employees creates a system that violates workplace anti-discrimination laws, negatively impacting minority groups.

Artificial Intelligence (AI) is poised to be the next major battleground for antitrust law, and the industry’s unprecedented expansion and high economic concentration pose a unique challenge to existing legal frameworks worldwide. The European Union (EU) stands out as a leader in the regulation of the digital economy, having already passed legislation that limits “gatekeeper” corporations (large digital platforms that provide core services like web browsing) in the form of the Digital Markets Act and bringing numerous suits against Big Tech companies for anticompetitive behavior.

In the past few months, a new tough-on-crime approach to justice has led Louisiana to pass legislation eliminating parole and resuming electric-chair executions — which have not been used since the state moved to lethal injections in 1991 — but in June, the state enacted a new law that threatens to set ethical standards of criminal justice back centuries. As of August 1, 2024, Louisiana is the first state to allow surgical castration as a punishment for sex crimes.

In the rapidly evolving realm of technology, generative Artificial Intelligence (AI) stands out as a revolutionary force, fundamentally altering industries and redefining our understanding of creativity. However, As AI experiences rapid growth and exerts a profound influence across various sectors, legal questions surrounding the patentability of AI-generated works have come to the forefront. This explosion in AI’s creative capabilities comes with a legal conundrum: can AI-generated art and ideas be subject to patent protection?

As of January 2024, the United States government formally recognizes five hundred and seventy four Native American tribes. While this may appear to be an insignificant, bureaucratic tally, federal recognition is actually quite important: in obtaining it, tribes become eligible for specialized benefits and an elevated degree of autonomy. As such, given the coveted nature of these privileges, it should come as no surprise that indigenous communities are in constant legal competition to secure them. In fact, in recent years, nearly every Supreme Court docket in recent memory has included at least one indigenous-related case. Most recently, the Court heard arguments in Arizona v Navajo Nation (2023), which dealt with the United States’ obligation to provide water to the Navajo tribe.

Following the publicized police murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and other Black Americans, there was a nationwide resurgence of Black Lives Matter protests in the summer of 2020. As community members organized marches and other forms of civil disobedience on social media, notably X (formerly known as Twitter), organizers grew concerned that law enforcement officers were using X as a medium to collect information on these protests. Specifically, they claimed that the information would be used in order to arrest participants or quell protests via social media surveillance. Surveillance is “the act of observing another in order to gather evidence” and is a frequent method used by law enforcement to gather evidence for an investigation. With the fears of covert surveillance via social media, Black American community members are now concerned about their privacy rights when engaging in protest, assembly, and expression–acts protected by the First Amendment. Law enforcement’s utilization of X and digital data from other social media sites as a form of surveillance should be considered a violation of the Fourth Amendment’s right to privacy of protestors.

When adopting their new constitution in 2008, Ecuador became the first country to recognize the legal personhood of nature, or Pachamama. Specifically, Chapter 7 “Rights of Nature” ensures the “maintenance and regeneration of [nature’s] life cycles, structure, functions and evolutionary processes” and calls for “[a]ll persons, communities, peoples and nations” to protect this right. This clause in the Constitution has provided a legal pathhood for the conservation of nature; theoretically, any person can act as a representative of Ecuador’s environment and file a lawsuit to prevent the harmful degradation of a specific body or region.