Blinded Law Students
v.
Board of Visitors of the University of Virginia
76 U.Va 22 (2024)
Coleman, J., delivers the opinion of the Court.
While the Sun turned partially black on April 8th, its deadly photons still collided with the eyes of unsuspecting law students. They come before this Court asking for fair compensation. But the University makes two claims to avoid liability for injuries sustained on Grounds and made possible by the sun-exposed area that is Spies Garden. First, Virginia tort law should apply to this action. Second, the students were contributorily negligent by looking at the Sun without protective glasses. We reject both arguments and reinstate the plaintiffs’ complaint. From now on, the Court of Petty Appeals follows a form of Better Law Theory with total disregard as to what the Commonwealth of Virginia does.
On the Day of Black Sun, students eagerly amassed in Spies Garden. The school encouraged this congregation by letting out some classes early, holding others outside, and even canceling a few. Initially, a pesky cloud covered the astronomical spectacle, but eventually gave way to reveal a Sun whose area was approximately 70% covered. While some students marveled at the celestial bodies, others felt the wrath of Apollo—without eclipse glasses, they were permanently blinded. The students come from across the nation and have a variety of domiciles.
Three forces made this tragedy possible. First, students were let out of class. Second, the Student Affairs office ran out of eclipse glasses early in the day. And third, the University has ignored the grave hazard that is Spies Garden.
II
The just cause of these plaintiffs is inhibited by two realities. First, Virginia tort law is a creature of some Victorian nightmare—contributory negligence is still a total defense to tort liability. Worse yet, the Commonwealth follows the First Restatement of Conflict of Laws! Second, and relatedly, Klaxon requires that federal courts follow the conflicts law of the state in which they sit.[1] We address both of these issues in one fell swoop.
III
This Court will not follow Klaxon and will only apply its own version of the Better Law Theory. Klaxon was decided on Erie-type concerns, but these are not issues for us. We have no concurrent jurisdiction with anyone. Parties are forcibly brought before this Court through our fictional setups. This means that there is no risk of unfairness to litigants based on the happenstance of diversity. Rather, we strive for universal unfairness.
IV
Refusing to follow Klaxon is only the first step. Now, we must formulate our conflict of laws doctrine. We choose as a foundation the much-maligned Better Law Theory, but simplify it to only include the final factor: application of the “better rule of law.”[2] So, whenever we are confronted with a potential choice of law problem, we will consider which substantive law yields the better—or funnier—outcome. While some may decry this as arbitrary, this is absolutely the outcome most consistent with our precedent. See Gay Section H Law Weekly Staff v. Lake, 75 U. Va. 16 (2023) (overruled on other grounds) (Lake, C.J., concurring) (“There is nothing more vital to the exercise of justice than committing to the bit.”); see also Pet. R. Civ. Pro. 1 (“We do what we want.”).
Applying that theory to this case, we choose to not apply Virginia tort law. It would be both better and funnier if the school were held liable for exposing students to the Sun’s deadly rays. But rather than apply another state’s law based on the domiciles of the plaintiffs, this Justice feels empowered to create and apply his own Uniform Eclipse Law. The UEL will hold landowners negligent and liable for treble damages if they fail to provide invitees with eclipse glasses and also encourage them to go into open spaces.[3]
We reverse and remand for a consideration of the compensatory damages. When calculating lost wages, the lower court must assume that all who are blinded were going to make partner at their Big Law firms and not retire until age seventy-five.
Allen, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part.
I do not foundationally contest the legitimacy of this Court’s decision to craft its own tort law in response to the unique circumstances of the case at hand—my disagreement stems from their scant consideration of just how this new framework should operate. I would depart from my brethren and sistren on the bench in directing the lower court to find either that contributory negligence precludes recovery for the plaintiffs at bar or comparative negligence would require any damage award be severely curtailed. While law students are not the smartest bunch, even they must understand the risk and consequences of staring at the sun unaided by protective equipment. Though law students can (and do) trace any inconvenience or injury they suffer to the University administration in some way, these students are at least partially at fault, and should be limited in their recovery as a result.
Sandu, J., concurring in the judgment.
While I concur with the ultimate decision of this Court, I write separately to emphasize the role that the clouds present that day played in affecting law student decision-making. Although the day began as a partly-cloudy—even sunny—one, by 3:20 pm, the sky was nearly entirely covered in a thin blanket of clouds, nearly entirely obscuring the eclipsing Sun from view. It was in this context that many law students, searching for a glimpse of a rare celestial phenomenon, chose to look directly at the Sun. Thus, I would argue that even if Virginia tort law were to apply, students should not be found contributorily negligent for injuries sustained during their reasonable reliance on the protection of clouds. If anything, I believe plaintiffs have a good case for promissory estoppel against Zeus and the Water Cycle for causing reasonable reliance on the promise of cloudy weather to the students’ detriment.
Allard, C.J., dissenting.
My brother, Justice Coleman, has once again written a sound opinion and proven himself an able jurist. And yet, I cannot bring myself to join it for one simple yet crucial principle: I am a grumpy and overbearing bastard of a boss. Justice Coleman most-correctly applied this Court’s bit-commitment legal philosophy to the novel conflict of laws issue in this case, and for that, another jurist might commend him. But when I read the majority opinion I saw one thing and one thing only—an attempt to combine his actual legal studies with his writing for this Court. In response to this abhorrent behavior,[4] I must dissent.
For too long, justices of this Court have grown too comfortable incorporating real law into their opinions.[5] In doing so, they forget this Court’s most fundamental principle: We do what we want.[6] Whatever happened to the good old days of squishy, incomprehensible, and unpredictable doctrines, like substantive honor or original public meaning?[7] If we are to uphold our duty as the decider of all the Law School’s pettiest disputes, then we must take great care not to make the law too comprehensible. Litigants before this Court cannot be led to believe that our decisions are well-reasoned, lest they become satisfied with the outcome, leading the wells of pettiness to quickly run dry.
For that reason, I would adopt Justice Coleman’s same Better Law Theory—but on entirely different grounds which I refuse to disclose—and then maybe rule in favor of the Law School anyway just to shake things up a little. We are ungovernable. Amen.
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[1] Klaxon Co. v. Stentor Elec. Mfg. Co., 313 U.S. 487 (1941).
[2] Robert A. Leflar, Conflicts Law: More on Choice-Influencing Considerations, 54 Cal. L. Rev. 1584 (1966). I also thank Professor Collins, though I do so hesitatingly because I don’t want him to reconsider my Conflicts grade after reading this.
[3] To respond to my Brother Allen, this Justice overheard a successful law student express confusion over whether the Sun was in between Earth and Moon or vice versa. This is indicative of the astronomical knowledge of law students. So, we cannot say that it was obvious for the reasonable law student to not look directly at the Sun.
[4] In which I have never dared to engage.
[5] See, e.g., Estate of Big Gobble the Turkey v. Commonwealth of Virginia, 76 U.Va 11 (2023) (talking about things like “the Eighth Amendment,” whatever the hell that is).
[6] Petty Rules of Civil Procedure 1. Is it hypocritical to complain about citing real law and then refer to our FRCP-inspired procedural rules? No. See Rule 1.
[7] Wait shit, one of those is real.