NIED: Law Reviews, Journals, and Bluebooking
As we come to the close of another productive year at BLS, 1Ls once again huddle into the library at 9 AM on a Saturday to pick up their journal writing competition packets. They are not supposed to have any idea of “the law” on their topic, and they are supposed to learn it based upon a limited set of materials, and get it right, or lose. They are not allowed to do outside research, and I seriously question the degree to which “cheating” occurs here, but that is another column for another time.
2Ls this year will remember last year’s painful topic on tax apportionment of franchises that have more than one branch in a state. I came up with a brilliant argument that it was not the mortgage underwriters’ labor that should be taxed by Ford Motor Credit Company, but rather, it should be the labor of the salesmen, who –it is true—do make a sizable part of their wages from commissions of sales (which may have different tax implications), but are responsible for the purchaser’s initial seeking of the loan. The labor they expend over two or three days was far more “valuable” than the underwriters estimated time of twenty minutes to “put the loan together.” Perhaps this was an incredibly stupid conclusion to reach for this case comment, but it appeared to be original, concise, assertive, and reasonably well-cited (I will avoid a deep discussion of the “?’s” I put into my endnotes to stay within my word limit). And then the fateful day came when people began receiving their phone calls. And I slowly realized that, after dropping beneath the 50% mark in the class, and failing to make moot court, I was not going to be on a journal. Being a writer (and having improved from a B to an A in Legal Writing between semesters), the one thing I wanted out of law school more than anything else was denied me, and it hurt.
So I turned away and laughed with derision at the beginning of 2L year, when all I heard for a few weeks were complaints about “pre-emption” and “not knowing what to write about.” I said, “I wanted it as much as anyone, and you got it, so you better shut up.”
Of course I never said that to their face. But law students that complain about not being able to find a topic to write about are a perfect example of the whiny types that flood law schools across the nation: let’s complain about everything that’s not perfectly suited to our needs—because, we’re not supposed to be creative. These students need not concern us, for pre-emption is, again, a much bigger topic. However, law students that complain about the process of becoming a member of a journal and the responsibilities that membership and/or publication entails, may have a good claim for negligent infliction of emotional distress—for few other activities may be as tedious and inconsequential as this.
Bluebooking is the first bane of existence. “The central function of a legal citation is to allow the reader to efficiently locate the cited source.” (THE BLUEBOOK: A UNIFORM SYSTEM OF CITATION, “General Principles of Citation,” at 1 (Columbia Law Review Ass’n et al. eds., 19th ed. 2010)). Great! How about this? “Because of the ever-increasing range of authorities cited in legal writing, no system of citation can be complete. Therefore, when citing material of a type not explicitly discussed in this book, try to locate an analogous type of authority that is discussed and use that citation from as a model. Always be sure to provide sufficient information to allow the reader to find the cited material quickly and easily. (See id.) Even the Bluebook recognizes that its system cannot be comprehensive. One could question why we need a whole other separate citation system apart from those already in existence, but I’d rather ask a more interesting question: what is “authority?”
Just because I earned a J.D. from Harvard, just because I made their Law Review, just because I clerked for a Federal Judge, just because I worked at a white-shoe law firm, just because I published a few articles, and gained some kind of respect in my field, I might seek a career in academia and publish and then I will have become “an authority.” Or, (less hoops) if I become a judge (or a law clerk), and I write an opinion, I become an authority. However, writing about one’s own life has no place in a law review article, even though I may be considered an authority on my own existence. “You’re not allowed to have any original thoughts,” people often say. It’s too likely you come off sounding like an idiot who has not deeply canvassed the law if you don’t cite to authority for every proposition you introduce. And yet, you must do a pre-emption check, and make sure that your topic has never been written about before.
My argument is that all journals should be abolished at every law school except for one Law Review. I mean no disrespect to my friends on the other journals (and indeed, there is no qualitative difference in intelligence, so far as I can tell), but membership is hardly prestigious when 20-25% of the class gets on a journal. When you’re one of the few that’s put in a good faith effort for every honor they could get, and you lose, and lose, and lose, you think you’re doing something wrong.
Memo to disaffected law students: you’re not doing anything wrong. It’s an imperfect system. Once all journals are abolished, we will only produce the amount of articles that we “need.” We won’t have a tidal wave of articles on every conceivable legal topic known to mankind, only to be revised to make an alternative conclusion acceptable when a case like Citizens United comes along.
Me, bitter? Maybe—but I proudly write on my name card, whenever I sneak into a journal event, “NOT A MEMBER OF XXX JOURNAL; FOUNDER OF MEP.” There are other ways to make a positive contribution to this school than to be one of the hundred Bluebook Slaves in your class. If you don’t make it onto a journal you should make fun of everyone who is. Not only will you make yourself feel better, but you will be right that it is all-too-often nothing more than an exercise in extremely-refined masturbation. Better yet—start, or join, a student organization that is devoted to sitting around and making fun of journal articles. Call it the Brooklyn Law School Journal of Rejects, put out one volume per year, and write boldly original articles that are sloppily-blue-booked (because no one really cares about that anyway—see Posner) and written for the Us Magazine crowd—people would dig it.
Maybe a lot of this is coming out wrong but here is my main point: as long as you are proud of what you produce, that is all that matters. If you do make a journal, and you slave away for months on your note, and you find out that, unfortunately, you won’t be getting published, the satisfaction you derive from the process should be your reward. Good luck, 1Ls. If it doesn’t work out for you, join the BLS Journal of Rejects. My 14,000 word, 40-page, 120-footnoted UCWR Employment Law paper gets to be in volume #1. And I also promise to accept ONE failed competition submission from this year. Open notes now being accepted.*
*Submissions are also being accepted for The BLS Advocate
Christopher J. Knorps is a 3L. He enjoys studying bankruptcy law. He runs the blog flyinghouses.blogspot.com. This summer he is in Chicago. Next year he will institute the Monthly Expense Project, serve as an upper class delegate on the SBA, and serve on its career services committee. He will also be filming a Batman remake. Please e-mail him at Christopher.knorps@brooklaw.edu if you have complaints or are interested in participating. You may also start a passive-aggressive comment fight but only if you promise not to be lame or mean about it.


Unfortunately, not all who desire to make a journal will score well enough to be invited.
However, as a journal member I must stress that you should neither act nor -write- like Mr. Knorps. Those of us on journal are very aware of why Mr. Knorps did not make it onto a journal, and it was not due to having a “brilliant argument” nor due to his class placement (much lower ranked students do write on).
I had the power to trash this comment but I wouldn’t. Violation.
I have serious doubts that you actually read the whole article, or my submission.
That was just plain rude and mean-spirited, I think, which is likely why it was posted with a pseudonym.
What sort of meaningful contribution does Bluebook Slave have to offer? One that makes his/her comment worth posting? We’re all waiting.
And to this I ask what sort of meaningful contribution does this column ever provide? At least the students who worked hard to get on a journal, worked hard to get their note published, and worked hard to make sure all the content of the journals was as perfect as possible, even in an imperfect system are attempting to better themselves and the reputation of this school.
To mock their effort, to be arrogant (because it certainly isn’t very humerous) about the entire process, to go so far as to belittle their stress, simply because Mr. Knorps did not achieve his goal (which is what this reads as)… Now, what does that achieve? What value does that give anyone? More importantly what does this say about the Advocate?
Jackie, thank you for sticking up for me. I will take it from here.
Mr./s. Slave/Anonymous/Synonyms—-
(1) You failed to answer Jackie’s question;
(2) You suggest that students neither ACT nor write like me. I’d like to remind everyone that the competition is OVER and it is to be graded ANONYMOUSLY, and therefore, the way a person ACTS should have NOTHING TO DO with whether or not they are invited onto a journal. Your initial comment was hurtful–and if you were hurt by my column, I’m sorry. I do not intend to be “arrogant” (though I did intend to be “humerous”(sic))–I intended to show all students that did not make a journal that there is nothing wrong with them. This is not, in any way, to suggest that there is something wrong with people that do make the journal (I am friends with about 50% of current journal members–most are normal, nice, intelligent, decent people). Perhaps you are stressed over grading the 1L submissions, because it’s impossible to say WHO qualitatively, will make the best journal member. If this column stressed you out, and made you think more deeply about the criteria by which you grade submissions, then it did its job;
(3) Journal members are “very aware” why I didn’t make it onto a journal? I may be misinterpreting this statement, but it almost makes it seem as if my submission from last year was held up as a model of “failure.” I seriously doubt this is the case. You seem to be judging me on the basis of my writing style in this column–which is quite different from the way I write exams or scholarly essays–and I seriously doubt that all 100 students “on journal” know me well enough to pass judgment on my qualifications;
(4) This one will be long. I knew when I started writing my NIED column that the hate mail would roll right in–and I have felt it from BLSPI (and Lizzie B. felt it from the SBA–though not so directly). However, I never considered this column destructive to the school’s reputation.
This column is about the end goal of transparency. Transparency in the way the school makes its financial decisions regarding student assistance and transparency in the way journals select their members (among other issues–transparency about why students fail to get an interview, or a job offer–transparency about The Curve–etc.).
Perhaps you will remember that the BLS Advocate won the community service award at this year’s SBA Transition Dinner. Clearly, someone on the Advocate is making a meaningful contribution to the school. It may not be me–but their willingness to publish my op-eds shows that they have a welcoming attitude towards all student voices–which you cannot say about any journal. They will only publish the most perfect student voices.
If you think I am not trying to better myself, then you have not read this column closely (or you are referring to one sentence amongst the hundreds, if not thousand, I have written in my 12 pieces this year).
The point of the NIED column is to enumerate the stresses a typical law student faces–it is not to mock anyone’s effort or belittle stress. If you actually read this column closely, you would see that I wrote many things that you might not be so angry about if you didn’t have something personal against me (which, I’m sorry, just seems so obviously to be the case), so I’ll make it easy for you:
Exhibit A
However, law students that complain about the process of becoming a member of a journal and the responsibilities that membership and/or publication entails, may have a good claim for negligent infliction of emotional distress—for few other activities may be as tedious and inconsequential as this.
Exhibit B
Maybe a lot of this is coming out wrong but here is my main point: as long as you are proud of what you produce, that is all that matters. If you do make a journal, and you slave away for months on your note, and you find out that, unfortunately, you won’t be getting published, the satisfaction you derive from the process should be your reward.
As mentioned previously, the point of this particular column was to make students that didn’t make a journal feel better about themselves–perhaps you take issue with the comments about “making fun” of people who are on journals and the dumb articles they write–this is clearly not meant to be taken seriously, and if I am not allowed to be entertaining at all in my column, than I run the risk of producing material that will cause the eyes to glaze over–but the Journal of Rejects IS NOT A JOKE. I PERSONALLY GUARANTEE that if you let me start a Journal of Rejects we could put out just as good a product as any of the other journals at this school;
(5) I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings with this column, but you should at least put your name out there if you’re going to personally attack me the way you have. You really hurt my feelings last night and I spent about 3 hours really upset by what you wrote. I have not personally attacked you in any way, but the entire system, of which you happen to be a part. If you have something personal against me, I challenge you to a duel. Meet me at the flagpole, Wednesday, August 15, 2012, 12 PM. We can hash it out then.