Over the course of my ten-year academic career, I’ve regularly been invited to sign an open letter in support or opposition to a particular cause, or to join a group amicus brief in a particular case. Sometimes these are generic groups (e.g., lawyers, law professors, etc.), and sometimes they purport to represent a collective interest at an institution or of an academic discipline.

It’s been my policy not to sign open letters or group amicus briefs, for any reason and under any circumstances. I thought I’d share why.

The first is a matter of control and ownership of the idea. Too often, the collective work has to be watered down and sufficiently generalized to attain broader support. Specific legal arguments become general platitudes. Interesting avenues of scholarly inquiry become rather bland, repetitive arguments found elsewhere. I’ve often found sole author amicus briefs particularly interesting, and I finally made a foray into this world this year. Controlling the work means offering particular insight. That’s not to say that co-authored amicus briefs or group letters might not be interesting, too. But it’s to say that a “please sign onto this” request generating sometimes thousands of signatories means that it’s not really about the specific contours of what’s being described or advanced.

The second is a matter of easing pressure. Open letters in particular seem (sadly) to signal to the world a false logical argument: those who signed this letter support X, therefore those who did not sign this letter do not support X. This is a particular concern for letters that purport to come from an institution or affinity group. My refusal to sign that letter inevitably can bring heat or criticism from those who observe my lack of signature. (My hope is individual discussion with them is more fruitful; more on that below.) If others truly oppose it on the merits, or simply prefer not to speak up (say, those in positions with less job security than I have), my refusal to sign can help ease pressure for them to know they are not alone.

The third is a matter of persuasiveness. Too often, these collective activities are not about persuasion. They are about signaling to the public one’s support or opposition to a particular cause, or signaling to one’s peers that one is an ally of said cause. Persuasion, I’ve found, is not best found in such demonstrative public acts, but in the careful and often difficult conversations that we may have one on one with each other, or in deliberate dialogue, or in the kind of focused scholarship (too often absent, as my first concern raises) that can help illuminate an issue. Open letters or group amicus briefs are addressing different audiences, and, I think, different modes of persuasion may be preferably for each.

All these reasons are not to cast aspersions on those who do sign such letters or briefs. Some may legitimately conclude that the ideas in many such open letters or group amicus briefs are sufficiently valuable; some may legitimately conclude that the cost of silence is greater than the cost of pressuring non-signatories or stirring divisions; some may legitimately believe that these tools can persuade. For me, however, I’ve found the evidence to come down against them in each case. And it’s simply become easier to have a straightforward rule that I can apply consistently and universally.

I have signed one kind of group letter, however. On three occasions (as of this writing, I think), I signed letters to the Senate Judiciary Committee advocating for a judicial nominee’s confirmation. These aren’t “open letters,” but I’m sure they are a matter of public record if one seeks them out. These were nominees I knew personally and could vouch for, and I treated them like a letter of recommendation. I could agree with everything in the letter about the person’s work, ethic, and character. One I helped draft, two I joined after they were drafted.

I’ve turned down many, many other opportunities, including for recent Supreme Court nominations, to sign onto letters, not the least of which was that I simply had never met the person, much less could vouch for the nominee’s character.

Again, I’m sure others have other views on this matter, and others may reach different conclusions. I hardly think my idiosyncrasies (like, say, having a non-revenue-generating blog) will be the norm. But I thought it would be useful to share my particular views.