This is heartbreaking news. In law school, Professor Rhode was one of my main mentors and has been ever since. She helped me become a law professor, and researching and coauthoring together shaped my approach as an academic today.
Prof. Rhode's scholarship emphasized the importance of doctrine and theory -- but also empirical reality and policy impact. She wanted to show how the law worked on the ground and how law and the legal profession could be used (and improved) to make the world a better place.
Deborah was a generous mentor and friend. She cared more about my development as a human being than a scholar and voice in the world. She was a strong proponent of prioritizing life over career, which says a lot as she is one of the most-cited legal academics of her generation.
I'll never forget the advice she offered when I went on the teaching market: Prioritize a city and community where your family can thrive, and only secondarily a law school where you can succeed as a teacher, scholar, and leader.
(I took that advice to heart, and fortunately didn't have to choose between those tradeoffs here in Columbus and at Ohio State. And that advice has shaped many of my career decisions since.)
Deborah was always there when I needed support or celebration. For example, she supported me after a difficult first year out of law school -- something I will never forget. She celebrated my marriage (her gift remains on our kitchen table) and the birth of each of our four kids.
Whenever we caught up over the years since I became a law professor, we wouldn't do so in her office or over a meal. Her tradition was for us to go on walks around the university (and the "dish" reserve). Those walks were life highlights.
During the walks, her first questions were always about how my family and I were doing, and only secondarily "what are you working on." (To be sure, she cared a lot about what I was working on.) Those walks were energizing and inspiring. I will so, so miss them.
Deborah, you left the world too soon. But you leave behind an amazing legacy -- in the groundbreaking scholarship you've published, in the trailblazing work you've done as a law prof & leader in the profession, and in the thousands of students & lawyers you've taught & inspired.
I will always be grateful that you invested in me as a young law student back in 2003 (and ever since) and that you lived your life and career in a way that inspired mine (and those of so, so many others). I miss you so much, but am forever grateful for your impact on my life.
My thoughts and prayers go out to the @StanfordLaw community and the countless friends and family who are grieving this loss. Rest in peace, my dear friend. / END
Post-script: If you want to better appreciate this legend in the law, check out this @stanfordmag profile of Deborah Rhode from back in 2017: medium.com/stanford-magaz…
Earlier this week the Justice Department released a report focused on how to modernize the Administrative Procedure Act (APA): yalejreg.com/nc/new-justice… Like most of the legislative #adlaw reform proposals in recent years, DOJ's reform efforts largely focus on agency rulemaking.
(FWIW, I've written more about the various legislative proposals, in an @AdLawReview essay by the same title as the DOJ report: ssrn.com/abstract=29621….)
Absent from most conversations about APA reform is agency adjudication. Yet the vast majority of regulatory actions today take place in adjudication, rather than rulemaking -- as we explored at the 50th annual @DukeLawJournal symposium earlier this year: yalejreg.com/nc/video-and-d…
Today I found out one of my former students passed away earlier this month. We're probably not supposed to have favorite students, but she was one of my favs -- in part because I saw her grow so much from one semester to the next in a way that inspired me to be a better teacher.
I first met Kierra in my 1L legislation and regulation course. She was one of the quieter students in her first-year section. I'm not sure she ever volunteered to speak in class (though I nudged her to participate), but she was always there and engaged -- and smiling.
We would often speak after class about the course material and life. I could tell this particular material didn't come easily for her, but she worked hard and grappled with the material.