# Category: Culture

## A Christmas Movie that Led to a Financial Reg (Sort of)

Trading Places is a Christmas movie in that it is set during the holidays and I suppose making hundreds of millions (or probably billions in today’s dollars) is a 1980s Christmas wish as compared to other Christmas wish movies. It is a heart-warming story of a young Eddie Murphy and Dan Akroyd taking on the entrenched elite by, oh well, by insider trading. The ending and the glory of frozen concentrated orange juice live on. First the full explanation of how the two manage to out maneuver the Dukes is a little tricky. But after the thirtieth anniversary a two years ago, a few places explain it nicely. NPR’s coverage is succinct. Business Insider is good and has better pictures. But the best is from Don’t Worry I am an Economist which has a step-by-step on short selling, and then applies it to the movie including explaining how the pricing worked (142 is in fact A \$1.42 and 29 is \$0.29 per pound but the contracts are for thousands of pounds thus “Trading begins at 102 cents per pound (at 15,000 pounds of F.C.O.J. per contract – size of a typical contract – the value of a single contract is \$15,300).”.). So he shows that

How much have they made? Let’s see. In the movie Winthorpe says they’ve moved around 20,000 contracts. Assuming they’ve sold short at a constant pace from 142 down to 102, and that later they’ve bought them back while the price was falling from 46 down to 29, let’s say that the average sell price was around 122 cents per pound, where the average buy-back price was 37.5 cents per pound. The spread is therefore 122 – 37.5 = 84.5 cents per pound profit. Per single contract this is 15,000 pounds * 84.5 cents per pound = \$12,675 per contract. Multiply this by roughly 20,000 contracts and their total profit was: \$253,500,000.

Oh and here is the law and regulation part: The movie was explicitly invoked as the Eddie Murphy rule when the government finally made insider trading on the commodities market illegal. Per the WSJ when the rule passed CFTC Chief Gary Gensler explained:

We have recommended banning using misappropriated government information to trade in the commodity markets. In the movie “Trading Places,” starring Eddie Murphy, the Duke brothers intended to profit from trades in frozen concentrated orange juice futures contracts using an illicitly obtained and not yet public Department of Agriculture orange crop report. Characters played by Eddie Murphy and Dan Aykroyd intercept the misappropriated report and trade on it to profit and ruin the Duke brothers. In real life, using such misappropriated government information actually is not illegal under our statute. To protect our markets, we have recommended what we call the “Eddie Murphy” rule to ban insider trading using nonpublic information misappropriated from a government source.

Law and lit and reg I guess. Anyway Merry Christmas and in the words of Nenge Mboko “Merry New Year.”

## Cyberpunk Because You Forgot to Get Someone a Gift

OK Cyberpunk can be great for a range of reasons, but I saw this repost from i09 on The Essential Cyberpunk reading list and thought, “A great list with some books I have not read. Wait! It’s a list for folks who need to send a just in time Christmas gift (assuming they are available as eBooks, which I know some are). I easily recommend Neuromancer, Snow Crash, and Mirrorshades. I look forward to reading the rest (Accelerando did not work for me but I may try it again). Plus this genre really does a great job of positing worlds and issues that are pressing the tech-law space right now, so that is another reason to jump in.

## Santa Coke? Goodwill to All and the Corporate Sources of the Man in the Red Suit

Many may know, but in case you don’t, the image of Santa Claus as a round man in a red suit traces its roots to a riff on St. Nick in brown and green. The linked video story via Fortune has Coca-Cola historians sharing why this creation is so great in their view. There were challenges such as increasing sales of Coke in winter and making an image of Santa that was as iconic as the Quaker Oats man. Vision, ingenuity (dare we say innovation? Dare. Dare.), and world-wide advertising spread the new Coca-Cola-red-wearing Santa far and wide. I wonder whether the idea of promoting this history is to remind folks of Coke in general and create an extra felling of warmth towards the company. And I wonder whether today Coke would try to lock down the image or let it be as ubiquitous as it is. Would the spread of polar bears wearing red and white scarves or hats be smiled upon or would the Cease and Desist letters fill lawyers’ heads and stockings as well? I hope that Coke and other corporate creators see that some of the work is cultural and can be let go without fear of losing value and maybe, just maybe, spreading goodwill to all.

## Philip K. Dick – Most Important SciFi Author of the 20th Century?

Philip K. Dick may be the most important sci-fi author of the 20th Century akin to Verne and Wells in vision and contemporary relevance well after they wrote. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep (Blade Runner), We Can Remember It For You Wholesale (Total Recall, twice), Minority Report (Minority Report, film and TV), Paycheck (Paycheck), A Scanner Darkly (A Scanner Darkly), Adjustment Team (The Adjustment Bureau), and now The Man in the High Castle as an Amazon TV show is just a partial list of Philip K Dick’s work that has been adapted. Although Amazon does not usually release its streaming numbers, The Man in the High Castle has become its “most-streamed original show, overtaking shows like the detective-centric Bosch and Jill Soloway’s feted dramedy Transparent.” The popularity is not the point. As a fan of Dick’s work Ubik and even Valis (though that one is much work to read) both of which have not been adapted to the screen, I am saying that Dick’s novels and short stories did what great sci-fi does. They use technology and maybe some fantasy to comment on where society is headed and how things might evolve. I think it was Dan Solove who once said to me that Dick’s work fits his era, and others in, I think Dan said, the New School were working on the same ideas (apologies, Dan, if I am mistaken about what you said). Regardless of who or what school treads the same area as Dick, for me something about his work catches attention and highlights the way we live more than others.

Take Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, the movie is a good adaptation in that it hits themes rather than trying to stay true to the precise way the novel works. The novel has great stuff on machines to dial up a mood. People use it to stimulate anger, happiness, etc. as the situation requires. Did that presage mood drugs and more? Sort of. Did it hit on how we choose to live and ideas of what is authentic life and emotion? Yes. Should we take the messages about the world as reflecting reality today? No.

Although law and literature can, and maybe should, use literature to help understand an idea, saying that the world is now just like Minority Report or some other work is a reach. Using a film or novel to say something is a concern or to illustrate ideas of Orwellian, Kafkan, or other futures and that we wish to ask whether that is real can help. But the key is to rally the facts that show that those fictions are now a reality or that facts are in place that open the door to dystopia. Speaking of dystopia, I wonder how often people use fiction to say that the world or a technology is leading us to a better place. In my experience legal scholars tend to dismiss upbeat outlooks as naive or “just so” stories. I am not sure that Dick is dystopian. But in general if folks have examples where literature or film are examples of a good outcome from technology, please share.

Nonetheless, I offer Philip K. Dick in all his messy glory as my choice for Most Important SciFi Author of the 20th Century.

## A Little History That May Help Understand Current Politics

The current politics around the race to be the Republican candidate for President, ISIS, online speech, campus speech, technology, labor, and more have stuck me has angrier and a bit more irrational than I am used to, so an old essay, The Paranoid Style in American Politics by Richard Hofstadter, caught my eye. I offer it as a quick historical perspective on some of our current issues and approaches to them. Hofstadter writes quite well, so it is another example of good style. But he shows that the “paranoid style,” as he calls it, rises across the range of political views and has done so for some time. Here is his opening:

American politics has often been an arena for angry minds. In recent years we have seen angry minds at work mainly among extreme right-wingers, who have now demonstrated in the Goldwater movement how much political leverage can be got out of the animosities and passions of a small minority. But behind this I believe there is a style of mind that is far from new and that is not necessarily right-wing. I call it the paranoid style simply because no other word adequately evokes the sense of heated exaggeration, suspiciousness, and conspiratorial fantasy that I have in mind. In using the expression “paranoid style” I am not speaking in a clinical sense, but borrowing a clinical term for other purposes. I have neither the competence nor the desire to classify any figures of the past or present as certifiable lunatics. In fact, the idea of the paranoid style as a force in politics would have little contemporary relevance or historical value if it were applied only to men with profoundly disturbed minds. It is the use of paranoid modes of expression by more or less normal people that makes the phenomenon significant. (emphasis added)

That he calls out that the style can show up for any party and is not about being crazy is excellent. He goes on to admit that the term is “perjorative,” because he wants to ensure we know that although it “has a greater affinity for bad causes than good. [] nothing really prevents a sound program or demand from being advocated in the paranoid style. Style has more to do with the way in which ideas are believed than with the truth or falsity of their content.” Wow. He knows someone may say well what about true or false, and he swipes that issue aside, so that he can get to his point, “I am interested here in getting at our political psychology through our political rhetoric. The paranoid style is an old and recurrent phenomenon in our public life which has been frequently linked with movements of suspicious discontent.”

In two paragraphs, Hofstadter explains the idea, the scope, and why one should read more. Damn fine work. Plus he goes on to show show McCarthyism, early populism, fears of Masons and Illuminati (yes Illuminati), and fear of Jesuits fit his idea. To be clear, Hofstadter thinks that something different–including the felling of “dispossession” as Daniel Bell put it–explains what happened with the right in the 1950s. And he offers that mass media allows for greater, easier demonization. Nonetheless, I think that his summation fits for a range of views today:

Norman Cohn believed he found a persistent psychic complex that corresponds broadly with what I have been considering—a style made up of certain preoccupations and fantasies: “the megalomaniac view of oneself as the Elect, wholly good, abominably persecuted, yet assured of ultimate triumph; the attribution of gigantic and demonic powers to the adversary; the refusal to accept the ineluctable limitations and imperfections of human existence, such as transience, dissention, conflict, fallibility whether intellectual or moral; the obsession with inerrable prophecies . . . systematized misinterpretations, always gross and often grotesque.”

As Hofstadter put it, this view allowed him to “conjecture” that “that a mentality disposed to see the world in this way may be a persistent psychic phenomenon, more or less constantly affecting a modest minority of the population.”

The real punch came as he connected the modest minority to more. He said, “But certain religious traditions, certain social structures and national inheritances, certain historical catastrophes or frustrations may be conducive to the release of such psychic energies, and to situations in which they can more readily be built into mass movements or political parties.” That is the idea that worries me. According to Hofstadter, part of the problem may be “a confrontation of opposed interests which are (or are felt to be) totally irreconcilable, and thus by nature not susceptible to the normal political processes of bargain and compromise.” Furthermore, when groups are shut out of “the political process” even if their demands are “unrealistic” or unrealizable,” “they find their original conception that the world of power is sinister and malicious fully confirmed. They see only the consequences of power—and this through distorting lenses—and have no chance to observe its actual machinery.” The idea is to at least be open to other views and seek compromise. Still I am not sure what the response to being shut-out and unable to observe the machinery should be. I can understand that some will argue the process itself is corrupt, and it may be corrupt. I don’t think that submission to the Paranoid Style is the way to go. Nor is simply saying that the system will work correct. To riff on Hofstadter, if the Paranoid Style is on the rise and going mainstream for any issue, we should note it, and be open to the claims and facts. It may be that we missed a sea change that has not only style but substance, often a dangerous substance, as is the case when in “an arena for angry minds.”

## Writing as a career and passion

As a young scholar the desire to be read, invited to conferences, and cited is strong; but how to obtain these glories is unclear. Should one write and have faith that good work will be found? Or is there more to do? The New Republic’s recent review by Sam Sacks of two short story collections offers two benefits; it suggests two collections and looks at the ongoing tension between professional versus artistic creation. Exploring this tension should help answer what to do as a scholar.

The first collection, The Unprofessionals, edited by Lorin Stein comes from the Paris Review, and according to Sacks “defines itself against the emergence of a hyper-professionalized breed of fiction writer.” Sacks points to the editor’s preface which criticizes the trend of young authors’ using social media to self-promote and as the editor put it “to think of themselves as professionals: to write long and network hard.” Stein’s work is “a kind of elite artist’s colony whose sole mandate is the refinement of craft.” In contrast, Sacks offers New American Stories. Sacks calls its editor Ben Marcus “an emissary for a wide range of writers on the margins of the mainstream.” Thus according to Sacks, “Stein is an editor charged with elevating the few from the many, Marcus has emerged as an emissary for a wide range of writers on the margins of the mainstream.” As Sacks says, “If The Unprofessionals is like a beautifully unified concept album, New American Stories is, to use Marcus’s analogy, a mixtape.” Sacks hits notes that matter to academics as professionals, when he talks of politics.

As Sacks offers:

Two anthologies, two visions of American fiction: one exclusive, one eclectic; one that seals its ears to the clamor of the industry, one that takes inspiration from the chorus of voices being published. The second vision has the stronger sense of political purpose. Many new writers want to be read and discussed by a large audience, to be noticed by prize committees, to take an active part in the cultural conversation—all activities of the so-called professional—not because, contrary to Stein’s opinion, they’re out for money, but because this kind of recognition is central to the politics of their writing.

Much the same could be said of scholarship. There can be the current in-crowd orthodoxy that has a certain style and approach. It can be exclusive and seem to anoint stars. There can also be the out-crowd with its orthodoxy and anointed but that seek to challenge the status quo just as Sacks says, “The stories in Marcus’s anthology reflect the interest many new writers have in rearranging social hierarchies and redefining terms of normalcy.” Sacks further helps understand the politics when he discusses an essay by Parul Sehgal. Seghal looked at a novel that used a new form and said the project and style was “less a performance of alienation than a passionate effort at reconciliation.” Thus according to Sacks, the goal of writers such as those in the Unprofessionals, “writers traditionally left outside of the conversation” is “to be recognized as professionals.” If professional means one’s ideas have been taken mainstream (and in Portlandia parlance “you are so over”), I think Sacks sums up where scholars hope to be too. Challenging current ideas and scopes of concerns can be lonely. As one finds a community to work with and the work gains traction, the work may go mainstream. At that point, enjoy the ride. The newbies will come to show you what you missed. But there is more to it than being professional. As Sacks goes through the authors in the collection, you get a sense of what might matter depending on what you like to read or how you want to be challenged. At the very least you get a list of names to ponder and pursue. But his key point applies to scholars too.

Sacks saves his highest praise for Denis Johnson, “Johnson could be in Stein’s anthology as well as Marcus’s (he’s appeared in The Paris Review repeatedly over the years).” And here is the key:

But that just means that he’s achieved the aim of all writers: He’s transcended categorization. It no longer makes any difference how you label him—professional or unprofessional—since he’s written fiction good enough to outlive him.

Somethings never change.

## STAR WARS!! Mash up edition

I was able to maintain a self-imposed media blackout before seeing Episode VII (less TV watching and taking command of the remote to mute/switch if an ad came on helped) and then I was able to indulge in theories, musings, and overt obsessions with the Star Wars universe. As a childhood fan who went way too often to each of the original movies and watched each special about the making, and even thought the Christmas Special (hey I was a kid) was cool, because back then more Star Wars was good Star Wars, I was most happy to come across a longer piece about Episode IV over at Slate.

For those interested in mashups, derivative works, and other aspects of copyright, the article argues that Star Wars is post-modern because of the way Lucas borrowed technique and material from a huge range of film. The article covers much I knew but much I didn’t, especially some of the short film work that influenced Lucas. It notes Dune’s influence (a point I find is not made enough but then I read that book almost every year) as well as a host of other sources. It also has a great set of video and gif work to show how the opening words, washes, western themes, robots, and so much more came from work Lucas studied and openly noted as he created the world. The admissions such as:

To draft his finale, he did something unusual: He literally cut together shots from old films. “Every time there was a war movie on television, like The Bridges at Toko-Ri, I would watch it,” he later explained, “and if there was a dogfight sequence, I would videotape it. Then we would transfer that to 16mm film, and I’d just edit it according to my story of Star Wars.” Lucas started videotaping off his TV as early as 1973, and the effects team later used his edits as a guide. Ken Ralston, who worked on the movie’s special effects, explained, “We matched frame-to-frame the action on that as closely as we could.”

might be a copyright attorney’s dream statement to try and show infringement but then copyright folks will also know the counter arguments. All of which is to say, the article is a fun read, and for me, provides perspective on creation and copyright (and maybe the predictable lawsuit by Fox alleging Battlestar Galactica had 34 similar aspects to the movie). Oh and no spoilers for the new one that I recall.

## Centralizers: Uber vs the Others (Lyft, Didi Kuaidi, Ola, and GrabTaxi)

Uber is looking to raise more than \$2 billion; Lyft, Didi Kuaidi, Ola, and GrabTaxi have formed a global alliance to counter Uber. Where or where is the disruptive scrappy tech savior? Answer: It existed briefly and the next phase is with us. In The New Steam: On Digitization, Decentralization, and Disruption I argued that [T]his era of disruption and decentralization will likely pass and new winners, who will look much like firms of old, will emerge, if they have not already.” I was building on the ideas Gerard Magliocca and I explored in our work on 3D printing. Although some technologies have helped decentralize production and distribution, to think that centralized players would all go away or new ones not emerge is a mistake. I was focused on safety, stability, liability and insights from Douglass North.

As I said in the paper:

Douglass North captures a paradox that goes with transaction costs. Greater specialization, division of labor, and a large market increase transaction costs, because the shift to impersonal transactions demands higher costs to: 1) measure the valuable dimensions of a good or service; 2) protect individual property rights; 3) enforce agreements; and 4) integrate the dispersed knowledge of society.26 Standardized weights and measures, effective laws and enforcement, and institutions and organizations that integrate knowledge emerge, but the “dramatic increase in the overall costs of transacting” is “more than offset by dramatic decreases in production costs.” Digitization forces us to revisit these issues.

Uber’s success and the response of the other players raises another point. Although I think that society will favor centralized players in the long run, because that allows for some regulation; the process of centralization may also occur for simpler reasons. When one big player starts to break away from the pack, the rest may co-operate or consolidate to keep pace. There may be one winer or a handful. Either way, as Seattle now allows Uber and Lyft drivers to unionize and calls for more regulation continue, the former disruptors will be seen as the new centralized power and treated as such. The reasons offered for that treatment are what draw my interest and where legal theory has and will see some action.

## Berlusconi-fication: Cutting Out the Middle Man

Recently Rick Perlstein described American elections as a “plutocrat’s right to choose.” Such concerns have also been raised by conservative media. A political economy premised on the trading of money for power, and power for money, gives rise to an oligarchic constitutional order. Political science responds with “investor theories” of politics, where the key players are not the voters, but the donors. Politicians become vessels for their agendas.

As Jeffrey Winters observes, many types of oligarchies can develop. Americans might be interested in learning more about what might be deemed a “direct” oligarchy, where one-time donors forego buying the favor of leaders, and simply run for office themselves. Some very wealthy candidates of the right and left have fit this bill, and done passably as leaders. But the independence afforded by great wealth can also lead to flamboyantly erratic behavior, particularly among men long unaccustomed to accounting for their actions to others. Consider, for instance, the billionaire Silvio Berlusconi, a long-time Italian leader:

Perhaps the most famous example of Berlusconian rule-bending—and the one with the most popular results—was his takeover of Italian TV. Television was introduced to Italy, in 1954, through a single channel, RAI, administered by the ruling Christian Democratic Party; the highlight of its programming was the Pope’s Sunday-morning Mass, which is still on the air. For decades, the government controlled television: in the seventies, political parties were allotted news coverage in exact proportion to their votes in parliament. Then, in 1976, the Italian Supreme Court ruled that private broadcasting could be allowed on a local level. Berlusconi, who had made a fortune building suburban housing developments, began buying up local stations and broadcasting the same content on all of them. In order to comply with the letter of the court’s ruling, he staggered the broadcasts by a few seconds on each network.

Technically, these were local broadcasts; effectively, as Berlusconi made clear to advertisers, he had a national market, which he glutted with American programs like “Dallas,” “Dynasty,” and “Falcon Crest”—stories of sex and money…Berlusconi…believed that appetites existed to be stoked and sated, and he imported both American entertainment and the advertising environment that supported it. “I’m in favor of everything American before even knowing what it is,” he once told the Times.

Despite a long record of self-dealing, scandal, and outrageous statements, Berlusconi spent 9 years as Prime Minister. He had great appeal as a rascally anti-hero, exulting in a mix of la dolce vita and la vida loca. Thank goodness America, a mature democracy, could never fall for such a dubious mix of wealth and celebrity.

Photo Credit: CluPix.

## When Love’s Promises Are Fulfilled By the U.S. Supreme Court

Today, in a 5-4 decision, the United States Supreme recognized the fundamental nature of love’s promises. In Obergefell et al. v. Hodges, the Court held,  “the Fourteenth Amendment requires a State to license a marriage between two people of the same sex and to recognize a marriage between two people of the same sex when their marriage was lawfully licensed and performed out-of-State.”  Referring to marriage as a “keystone” of the U.S.’s “social order,” Justice Kennedy declared same-sex marriage bans unconstitutional. Importantly, the case makes clear that forcing gay couples to go across state lines to marry only to deny them the franchise after returning home undermines fundamental principles of liberty.

It’s no surprise that Professor Martha Ertman’s powerful book: Love’s Promises: How Formal and Informal Contracts Shape All Kinds of Families on which she copiously and beautifully toiled while rearing her son debuts the summer that equality in marriage becomes a fundamental right for gay men and women. Nor should anyone be surprised if the book, along with the decision itself, becomes a central text at universities and beyond. In what David Corn calls a “love letter to marriage,” from the pen of Justice Kennedy, the Court reasoned:

“No union is more profound than marriage, for it embodies the highest ideals of love, fidelity, devotion, sacrifice, and family. In forming a marital union, two people become something greater than once they were. As some of the petitioners in these cases demonstrate, marriage embodies a love that may endure even past death. It would misunderstand these men and women to say they disrespect the idea of marriage. Their plea is that they do respect it, respect it so deeply that they seek to find its fulfillment for themselves. Their hope is not to be condemned to live in loneliness, excluded from one of civilization’s oldest institutions. They ask for equal dignity in the eyes of the law. The Constitution grants them that right.“

With that, the Supreme Court overruled the prior judgement of the Court of Appeals for the Sixth Circuit and set in gear the reversal of centuries’ worth of stigma, shame and inequality, which may not erase overnight, but overtime will ease. Professor Ertman might also suggest that by the decision, the Court resituates contracts too. That is to say, if viewed from the lens of contracts, which serves as the core, theoretical foundation of Love’s Promises, this decision recognizes a fundamental right in contract for gay men and women. Further, the case expands the “contract” franchise to include gay women and men.

Some scholars approach gay marriage primarily from the constitutional liberties encapsulated in the 14th Amendment, upholding equal protection for U.S. citizens regardless of their status, others approach the issue as a matter of privacy. For Professor Ertman, contracts offer an additional lens and much to deliberate about on matters of marriage, parenting, and familial intimacy. Professor Ertman’s writings on contract (The Business of Intimacy,  What’s Wrong With a Parenthood Market?, and Reconstructing Marriage to name a few) precede the book, and presaged its birth.

Here for example, in a passage from Chapter Eight, she explains that “[i]t takes two more trips to the lawyer’s office to hammer out terms that satisfy Karen, Victor, the attorney, and me, from lawyerly technicalities to the emotional terms we call “mush.” From what started out as an addendum to Victor’s and my coparenting agreement has blossomed into a bouquet of wills and powers of attorney, alongside the amended parenting agreement.” She tells readers, “On the way downstairs, clutching documents still warm from the copying machine, Karen squeezes my hand, as if she too feels that signing all those dotted lines brought a family into being every bit as much as vows of forever that we plan to recite…” As she explains, “if you scratch the surface of marriage—straight or gay—you’ll find contracts there, too.”

Professor Ertman urges us to remember time and again that what builds relationships and sustains them are the formal and informal contracting that take place daily in marriage; they establish the foundation for marriage and what comes after. She works diligently in the book to demonstrate love too undergirds contracts. That is to say, she wants readers to reimagine contracts—not as the products of cold, calculated bargaining or business arrangements—though one must acknowledge contracts can be that too—even in marriage.  Often marriage is the product of love, intimacy, and warm innocence.  At other times, it is the product of business arrangements.  It was that too in the U.S. chattel system: contracts that gave legal sufficiency to the buying, selling, bartering, and even destroying of slaves, including children (among them the Black biological offspring of slave owners). In light of that history yet to be fully explored and appreciated in law, it is a formidable task to resituate or reintroduce contract in the space of families and intimacy. However, Professor Ertman rises to that challenge.

Like it or not, contracts pervade marriage and suffuse premarital agreements. Sometimes contracting in this regard attempts to resituate power and status expost marriage, providing the economically weaker spouse economic stability after the breakup. Martha highlights cases from that of Catherine Simeone who received a “raw deal,” to those of celebrities, including Michael Douglas and Beyonce. Who knew that Beyonce would receive \$5 million for “each of their children,” if she and Shawn Carter (otherwise known as Jay-Z) divorced? Professor Ertman might argue that despite the businesslike nature of contracts, these legal arrangements and agreements make most matters clearer for everybody. Professor Ertman explains that contracts and even verbal agreements provide information, they can provide context, and they offer choice.

In Ertman’s life, it was a contract that bestowed her wife, Karen, parenthood of their child—not something biological, legislative, or derived from courts. And she offers multiple reasons for readers to consider the salience of contracts in intimacy, including voluntariness, reciprocal promises, and equal status. She offers an additional reason: love’s promises.