Today, anyone can sue anyone else, regardless of how ridiculous the claim may be. But it wasn't always like this.alwright1/Flickr
The cornerstone of fair government and ordered liberty is "due process of law": the state must define legal obligations in advance and apply them even-handedly. That principle is under assault today from an unusual source: the federal courts. An obscure change to a procedural rule in 1938 delegated to any private person the absolute right to commandeer the power of the state to issue an official court order (a "summons") to any other person to stop whatever they are doing and report to court to spend time and money defending against any charges, no matter how bogus, regardless of whether they have any basis in either law or fact.
Today anyone may sue anyone over anything: the fleeing felon who breaks in, takes hostages, and then sues his victims for allegedly violating their oral contract to hide him from the police; the convict who sues the makers of baking soda for failing to warn it is illegal to use their product to make crack cocaine; the D.C. administrative law judge who sues his dry cleaners for $54 million for losing his pants (and thereby imposes over $100,000 in legal expenses on the store's Korean-born owners).
Some examples may be amusing, but the problem is not. Millions of dollars a year are spent defending against lawsuits that never should have been brought. For example, when several states enacted a requirement that a doctor has to sign a paper saying that someone is actually sick, asbestos lawsuits dropped by an average of 90 percent.
The consequences of abrogating judicial quality control over lawsuits are not just economic; social interactions are also poisoned by the threat that one might be sued over almost anything. Nearly 80 percent of middle and high school teachers have been threatened with lawsuits or accused of rights violations by students. That threat is always in the back of your mind when you stand up in front of a class. As Ben Stein puts it, "In this country, the system of laws is such that a trial lawyer can say any damned thing in a claim letter -- any fantasy, however fictitious -- send it off, and next thing you know, you are shelling out time and money defending yourself against a fantasy. It is a nightmare, only it's real."
It was not always so. Our founders refused to delegate the fearsome power to summon others to court into private hands. When they created the federal courts, they specifically provided in the 1792 Process Act that every court order, including the writ of summons ordering someone to answer civil charges, had to be signed off on by a judge. Throughout the 18th and 19th centuries this federal law was understood as keeping court orders, including the writ of summons in civil cases, "under the immediate supervision and control of the court," in the words of a 1884 federal circuit court. The practice was for the lawyer and the plaintiff to appear before the judge, or the clerk of court, and explain the grounds on which he wished to bring a lawsuit. The court would review the proposed lawsuit and decide whether it was plausible enough to compel the defendant to respond. If it wasn't, the judge would dismiss the case right then and there, without requiring the defendant to spend time and money responding, and the disappointed would-be litigant could appeal.