Opinion ID: 2630898
Heading Depth: 3
Heading Rank: 3

Heading: Application of the Political Structure Doctrine to Section 31

Text: I now discuss why section 31 violates the political structure doctrine. The first step of the inquiry requires consideration of whether section 31, while facially neutral, nonetheless singles out a racial issue for special treatment. ( Seattle, supra, 458 U.S. at p. 471.) The answer is plainly yes. Section 31 prohibits preferential treatment on the basis of race, sex, color, ethnicity, or national origin. (§ 31, subd. (a).) Thus, as with the charter amendment in Hunter, section 31 is explicitly race conscious. In addition, it singles out a racial issue for special treatment inasmuch as it draws a distinction between groups seeking beneficial legislation on the basis of race and sex (i.e., racial minorities and women) and those seeking beneficial legislation on all other bases (e.g., veterans, the economically disadvantaged, in-state residents, local businesses, physically disabled, athletes, etc.). ( Hunter, supra, 393 U.S. at pp. 390-391; see Ballot Pamp., supra, rebuttal to argument against Prop. 209, p. 33.) For example: California (along with many other entities) grants civil service preferences to veterans (see, e.g., Gov. Code, § 18978); cities and counties may grant contracting preferences to locally owned or economically disadvantaged businesses (see, e.g., S.F. Admin. Code, ch. 6, § 6.4; id., ch. 14A); [19] some public school districts grant preferences to children of former students (see, e.g., Mehta, Public Schools Offer Legacy Admissions, L.A. Times (May 16, 2009) p. A3 [discussing school districts' adoption of admission policy giving preference to out-of-district children of former students]). Put another way, section 31 does not purport to regulate the enactment of all preferential legislation in the operation of public employment, public education, or public contracting, but rather only race- and sex-conscious preferences in those arenas. Moreover, there can be no serious doubt that section 31 was enacted `because of, not merely in spite of, its adverse effects upon' race- and sex-based affirmative action, and was therefore effectively drawn for racial purposes. ( Seattle, supra, 458 U.S. at p. 471.) Indeed, the ballot summary and the partisan statements underscore that the measure's central purpose was to effectively eliminate all race- and sex-based affirmative action. (E.g., Ballot Pamp., supra, Legis. Analyst's brief summary of Prop. 209, p. 6; id., argument in favor of Prop. 209, p. 32.) We arrived at the same conclusion in Hi-Voltage. ( Hi-Voltage, supra, 24 Cal.4th at pp. 566-567; id. at pp. 591-592 (conc. & dis. opn. of George, C. J.).) Finally, affirmative action is a racial issue in the same way that the fair housing ordinance in Hunter and the desegregative busing in Seattle were racial issues. ( Seattle, supra, 458 U.S. at pp. 471-472; Hunter, supra, 393 U.S. at p. 391.) That is, although [section 31] on its face treats [Whites and racial minorities, men and women] in an identical manner, the reality is that the law's impact falls on the minority. ( Hunter, at p. 391.) Affirmative action inures primarily to the benefit of the minority, and is designed for that purpose. ( Seattle, at p. 472.) And while racial minorities and women could undoubtedly be counted among both Proposition 209's opponents and supporters, that does not serve to distinguish Hunter or Seattle. ( Seattle, at p. 474.) For our purposes, it is enough that [racial minorities and women] may consider [race- and sex-conscious affirmative action] to be `legislation that is in their interest.' [Citation.] ( Ibid. ) [20] In summary, based on section 31's language, its different treatment of race- and sex-conscious legislation as compared to other legislation in the same area, its avowed purpose, and whom it primarily affects, I conclude section 31 without question singles out a racial issue for special treatment, triggering application of the political structure doctrine. (See Seattle, at p. 474.) [21] The second step of the inquiry requires consideration of whether section 31 constitutes a nonneutral restructuring of the political process, placing higher hurdles in front of those seeking race- and sex-conscious measures as opposed to what those seeking beneficial legislation on all other bases face. ( Seattle, supra, 458 U.S. at p. 474 & fn. 17.) As in Hunter and Seattle, the most obvious way to answer this question is to examine the impact of Proposition 209's passage on the process for obtaining favorable legislation. Because the practical effect of section 31 is the erection of a steep hurdle in front of those seeking race- and sex-conscious preferential legislation (as compared with those seeking similar legislation on other bases), section 31 obviously work[s] a reallocation of power of the kind condemned [by the high court]. ( Seattle, at p. 474.) Prior to Proposition 209, any person seeking beneficial legislation for any group in the areas of public contracting, employment, or education could petition their government representatives to adopt, amend, or retain such a program. ( Coalition I, supra, 946 F.Supp. at p. 1498.) For example, in matters of public contracting, Public Contract Code section 2000 gave local agencies the discretion, subject to certain limitations, to give bidding preferences to contractors who had complied with affirmative action requirements. (See Monterey Mechanical Co. v. Sacramento Regional County Sanitation Dist. (1996) 44 Cal.App.4th 1391, 1400-1403 [52 Cal.Rptr.2d 395]; Domar Electric, Inc. v. City of Los Angeles (1995) 41 Cal.App.4th 810, 820-822 [48 Cal.Rptr.2d 822].) With the passage of Proposition 209, the decision to permit and create such programs has been withdrawn from the Legislature and from local agencies, and now the adoption of affirmative action programs can only be accomplished via amendment of the state Constitution. Thus, the political mechanisms for seeking race- and sex-conscious legislation have been modified to place effective decisionmaking authority over [such legislation] at a different level of government. ( Seattle, supra, 458 U.S. at p. 474.) On the other hand, the City may continue to grant contracting preferences on other bases (see, e.g., S.F. Admin. Code, ch. 6, § 6.4; id., ch. 14A), and those seeking preferential legislation not involving race or sex continue to have the opportunity to lobby local governmental entities and the Legislature for the expansion of such preferences or the creation of new ones. That section 31's placement in the state Constitution erects a new and formidable barrier to those advocating for race- and sex-conscious affirmative action programs can hardly be doubted. Amending California's Constitution can be accomplished via either of two methods, both of which impose heavy burdens. First, the state Constitution can be amended via passage of another initiative. (Cal. Const., art. II, § 8.) To qualify a ballot measure, sponsors would initially have to obtain signatures equal to 8 percent of the previous gubernatorial vote. ( Ibid. ) To put that in context, to qualify an initiative constitutional amendment for the 2010 ballot, sponsors would have had to collect 694,354 valid signatures. (Cal. Sect. of State, Initiative Guide (2010) [as of Aug. 2, 2010].) Because a number of signatures tend to be disqualified, approximately 50 percent more raw signatures than the threshold amount must be collected ( Coalition I, supra, 946 F.Supp. at p. 1498), and they must be obtained within a 150-day period (Elec. Code, § 336). [22] If enough valid signatures are gathered, the initiative is placed on the ballot at the next statewide election and must obtain the approval of a majority of voters. (Cal. Const., art. II, § 8.) As a second method, the Legislature can amend the state Constitution by securing a two-thirds vote of approval of a proposed amendment by both houses. (Cal. Const., art. XVIII, § 1.) If the Legislature does so, the measure is placed on the ballot and must garner a majority of votes. ( Id., § 4.) If sponsors are able to successfully navigate getting the proposed amendment on the ballot via either process, substantial funds will then be required to run a statewide campaign. ( Coalition I, supra, 946 F.Supp. at p. 1499.) Because of the size of California, such campaigns tend to be very expensive  as of October 1996, for example, the campaign in support of Proposition 209 had spent $3.1 million. ( Ibid. ) As a more recent example, in the November 2008 election, $75 million was spent in support of and against Proposition 8, the initiative to ban same-sex marriage. (McKinley & Goodstein, Bans in 3 States on Gay Marriage, N.Y. Times (Nov. 6, 2008) p. A20.) [23] In light of the substantial hurdles that racial minorities and women (and only those individuals) must overcome in seeking remedial legislation, section 31's ban on constitutionally permissible race- and sex-conscious measures impermissibly reallocates power. [24] It removes the authority to address [race-and sex-conscious beneficial legislation]  and only [such legislation]  from the existing decisionmaking body, in such a way as to burden minority interests. ( Seattle, supra, 458 U.S. at p. 474.) In the wake of Proposition 209, veterans, the economically disadvantaged, the physically disabled, children of alumni, in-state residents, etc., all may continue to seek, obtain, and benefit from preferential legislation as before. [25] That is, they can approach and lobby their school board, city council, county government, state university, state legislator, or any other public entity to enact legislation or adopt policies. The same is no longer true for those seeking race- and sex-conscious legislation, even when the legislation is narrowly tailored to remedy the effects of past discrimination by a public entity. Thus, the practical effect of section 31 is to restructure the political process in a nonneutral fashion. ( Seattle, at pp. 479-480.) [26] Although I conclude that section 31's ban of race- and sex-conscious affirmative action violates the political structure doctrine, this does not mean that, once adopted, affirmative action measures may never be abolished. As the Supreme Court has repeatedly explained, the doctrine is not violated when enacting governmental entities merely overturn previous policies or when voters simply repeal unpopular legislation at the ballot box. ( Seattle, supra, 458 U.S. at p. 483; Hunter, supra, 393 U.S. at p. 390, fn. 5.) [27] Section 31, however, works more than a mere repeal of beneficial legislation by the enacting entity. ( Seattle, at p. 483.) It burdens all future attempts to obtain race- and sex-conscious remedies by relocating decisionmaking power over such legislation from the public entities that had previously wielded it to a remote level of government, the state Constitution. ( Seattle, at p. 483.) [28] Significantly, section 31's most profound impact is felt in communities where affirmative action does not arouse substantial opposition. ( Seattle, supra, 458 U.S. at p. 483; Hunter, supra, 393 U.S. at pp. 395-396 (conc. opn. of Harlan, J.).) Where a public entity's decision to enact affirmative action would be unpopular, voters could have simply overturned the policy via referendum or election of new representatives  in such instances, section 31's impact is slight. Where affirmative action is relatively uncontroversial, however, section 31's alteration of the process for enacting future legislation imposes direct and undeniable burdens on minority interests. `If a governmental institution is to be fair, one group cannot always be expected to win,' [citation]; by the same token, one group cannot be subjected to a debilitating and often insurmountable disadvantage. ( Seattle, at p. 484.) [29] The majority does not contest that section 31 was enacted because of its effect on race- and sex-conscious affirmative action or that, as a result, section 31's impact falls primarily on minorities. Nor does it dispute that section 31 works more than a mere repeal, but rather imposes significant burdens on future efforts to enact race- and sex-conscious preferential legislation. These facts, I submit, establish a clear violation of the political structure doctrine and require, under controlling United States Supreme Court precedent, invalidation of section 31. The majority concludes otherwise. Its main  indeed its only  argument is that the doctrine does not apply when race- and sex-conscious preferential legislation is at issue. (Maj. opn., ante, at pp. 330-332.) [30] As this distinction finds no support in Hunter or Seattle, however attractive the majority's holding might be to some as a matter of policy, it is incorrect as a matter of law. In reaching its conclusion, the majority misreads and misapplies the high court's political structure doctrine cases, imposing requirements and finding exceptions that do not appear in, and are not supported by, Hunter or Seattle. The majority contends the legislation invalidated in Hunter and Seattle is distinguishable from section 31 in that the former obstruct[ed] equal treatment while the latter ban[s] preferences. (Maj. opn., ante, at p. 330.) In response to the City's argument that race-conscious preferences are as much `beneficial legislation'  the phrase used by the Seattle court  as the antidiscrimination ordinance in Hunter or the race-conscious busing policy in Seattle, the majority declares: We do not think, however, that the term `beneficial legislation' can bear the weight the City would place upon it. (Maj. opn., ante, at p. 330.) [31] The majority's rejoinder is curious; it is difficult to see how race-conscious preferential legislation does not constitute beneficial legislation ( Seattle, supra, 458 U.S. at p. 467) or legislation that is in [minorities'] interest ( Hunter, supra, 393 U.S. at p. 395 (conc. opn. of Harlan, J.)). It is more reasonable to assume the high court understood that beneficial legislation is an expansive phrase and used it intending it be so construed. The majority points to nothing in either Hunter or Seattle to suggest the Supreme Court intended the cramped reading the majority now adopts. To the contrary, there is substantial evidence in those opinions supporting the notion that the high court did intend for its language to be read broadly. For example, the high court discussed minorities' ability to enact legislation in [their] behalf ( Hunter, supra, 393 U.S. at p. 393); the ability of minority groups to achieve beneficial legislation ( Seattle, supra, 458 U.S. at p. 467); minorities' ability `to achieve favorable legislation' ( id. at p. 470, citing Hunter, at p. 394 (conc. opn. of Harlan, J.)); the ability to achieve legislation that is in [minorities'] interest ( Hunter, at p. 395 (conc. opn. of Harlan, J.)); the burden [on] minority interests ( Seattle, at pp. 474, 484); the political achievement of minority interests ( id. at p. 475, fn. 17); and the ability of racial groups to enact legislation specifically designed to overcome the `special condition' of prejudice ( id. at p. 486). That the Supreme Court repeatedly spoke in expansive terms bolsters the City's argument  the political structure doctrine is concerned not with minorities' actual legislative goals, but with their equal and meaningful access to the political process. (See, ante, at p. 346.) [32] The majority's reliance on the preferential nature of the legislation is therefore an inapt basis for distinguishing Hunter and Seattle. Moreover, the majority's efforts to distinguish between initiatives obstructing equal treatment and initiatives banning preferences (maj. opn., ante, at p. 330) elides the fact that section 31's only practical effect is on the narrow group of laws that can survive heightened constitutional scrutiny. (See, ante, at p. 335.) Given that reality, the distinction between the race-conscious affirmative action here and the antidiscrimination law in Hunter, supra, 393 U.S. at page 386, is illusory. [33] Before adopting race-conscious preferential legislation, a public entity must document in some detail the existence of discrimination to provide a `strong basis in evidence ... that remedial action [is] necessary.' [Citation.] ( Croson, supra, 488 U.S. at p. 500.) Thus, the 2003 ordinance at issue here is in a very direct way an antidiscrimination program, in which any preference granted must be strongly justified by the tangible continuing effects of the City's own past discrimination. To withdraw from public entities the ability to engage in this kind of racial antidiscrimination program, and to withdraw from minorities the capacity to advocate for such local antidiscrimination legislation in the future, while at the same time permitting local entities to grant preferences for other groups (without having to make a similar showing of discrimination), is precisely the kind of selective political restructuring that Hunter and Seattle sought to forbid. As an additional rationale for distinguishing section 31, the majority cites two related arguments made by the Ninth Circuit. The first argument is that the Constitution does not require race-conscious measures it barely permits. ( Coalition II, supra, 122 F.3d at p. 709; see maj. opn., ante, at pp. 327-328.) This, of course, is a red herring. No one contends the Constitution requires race- or sex-conscious affirmative action. Nor is that relevant to the inquiry, as neither the adoption of the housing ordinance in Hunter nor the busing policy in Seattle was constitutionally required. Rather, the focus of the political structure doctrine is on nonneutral structural obstacles to constitutionally permitted, not required, legislation in minorities' interest. What the Court did hold is that states may not place political obstacles in the way of laws that favor minorities, nor may they remove such laws wholesale from the political process. All that is constitutionally required is that minorities have the opportunity, on equal terms, to seek `legislation in [their] behalf' within existing channels of government. [Citation.] ( Coalition II, at p. 715 (opn. of Norris, J., on den. rehg.).) Second, the majority suggests that section 31 cannot violate the Constitution, as it is consistent with the `core purpose' of the equal protection clause. (Maj. opn., ante, at p. 332.) The Ninth Circuit put it more lyrically: `[I]t would be paradoxical to conclude that by adopting the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment, the voters of the State thereby had violated it.' ( Crawford, [ supra, ] 458 U.S. at [p.] 535.) ( Coalition II, supra, 122 F.3d at p. 709, fn. omitted.) This is a canard. Section 31 is not coextensive with the equal protection clause. While it is true that the Constitution permits race-and sex-conscious measures only if they can survive heightened scrutiny, section 31 goes further. As the Attorney General puts it, [section 31] closes a door to race- and gender-conscious programs that the Fourteenth Amendment leaves open. And it does so while simultaneously leaving others free to seek preferential legislation on all other bases. This unique burden on the ability of women and racial minorities to achieve beneficial legislation in their interest is what violates the political structure doctrine, and thus the Constitution. ( Hunter, supra, 393 U.S. at pp. 390-391.) [34] Finally, while the majority disclaims the argument (maj. opn., ante, at p. 332, fn. 10), it bears noting that Coalition II questioned the vitality of the political structure doctrine in light of recent decisions by the high court. ( Coalition II, supra, 122 F.3d at pp. 704, 705, fn. 13; see also conc. opn. of Corrigan, J., ante, at p. 344.) [35] I do not perceive the same irreconcilability and am not convinced the Supreme Court's more recent conventional equal protection decisions undermine Hunter and Seattle. (See Amar & Caminker, supra, 23 Hastings Const. L.Q. at pp. 1035-1039.) Whereas more recent Supreme Court cases have restricted the type of affirmative action remedies permitted under the Constitution, they do not undermine the principle that minorities may not be prevented, via nonneutral political restructuring, from seeking beneficial legislation  including constitutionally permissible affirmative action remedies. Moreover, as noted before, our task is to faithfully apply the Supreme Court's precedent, not to prognosticate what it might do if presented with the opportunity to reconsider the doctrine. If a precedent of [the high court] has direct application in a case, yet appears to rest on reasons rejected in some other line of decisions, the [lower court] should follow the case which directly controls, leaving to [the high court] the prerogative of overruling its own decisions. ( Rodriguez de Quijas v. Shearson/Am. Exp., Inc., supra, 490 U.S. at p. 484.) [36] Thus, applying the Supreme Court's decisions in Hunter and Seattle, I conclude section 31's ban on constitutionally permissible race- and gender-conscious remedial measures violates the political structure doctrine, and I would remand the case for consideration of whether section 31 can withstand heightened scrutiny. In so concluding, I fully acknowledge the controversial nature of race- and sex-conscious measures (even when undertaken to remedy past discrimination) and the considerable passions on both sides of the issue. However, as Judge Henderson wisely commented in Coalition I, supra, 946 F.Supp. at page 1490, this case does not call upon this Court to adjudicate whether affirmative action is right or wrong, or whether it is no longer an appropriate policy for addressing the continuing effects of past and present discrimination against racial minorities and women. Such questions, while they are most certainly of vital public policy interest, he beyond the purview of this Court.... [¶] Rather, the substantive issues raised by this action are considerably more narrow, albeit no less important: whether the particular method chosen by Proposition 209 to curtail affirmative action is unlawful because it ... violates the rights of women and minorities to fully participate in our political system .... As I conclude the answer is yes, I dissent from the majority's contrary view.