Board of Estimate of City of New York v. Morris In 1989, Board of Estimate of City of New York v. Morris unanimously declared New York City’s Board of Estimate Unconstitutional, as it violated the “one man, one vote” principle derived form 14th Amendment’s Equal Protection standard. The Board of Estimate made almost all municipal decisions, and was occupied by eight ex oficio members: The Mayor of New York City The New York City Comptroller The President of the New York City Council The Borough President of the Bronx The Borough President of Brooklyn The Borough President of Manhattan The Borough President of Queens The Borough President of Staten Island The first three were elected in a city-wide election, and had 2 votes on the Board, while the Borough Presidents, elected by residents of their respective Borough’s, each held one vote on the Board. The Supreme Court ruled the Board Unconstitutional because residents of Queens, the least populous Borough, had the same representation as the members of the most populous Borough, Brooklyn. The problem, with this unanimous decision, is that this allegation simply isn’t true. As the three officers who held the most power (controlling 6 out of the 11 votes) were elected City-Wide. Therefore, the members of the more populous Borough, Brooklyn, would have more representation. I don’t claim to smarter than the Supreme Court, so, what am I missing?
The Board of Estimates still gave small boroughs like Staten Island more representatives per voter than large boroughs like Manhattan. Therefore it violated the one man, one vote principal which is evaluated with respect to all representatives having votes in a body, not just those that hold a majority. The analysis is to take all at large seats that don't violate the one man, one vote rule off the table and look at the fairness of the allocation of the remaining seats. This was an easy case, not a hard one, for the U.S. Supreme Court. The leading case are: First, Baker v. Carr, 369 U.S. 186 (1962) (holding that malapportionment claims under the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment were not exempt from judicial review under Article IV, Section 4, as the equal protection issue in this case was separate from any political questions). As Wikipedia explains (links to selected full text opinions added): The "one person, one vote" doctrine, which requires electoral districts to be apportioned according to population, thus making each district roughly equal in population, was further cemented in the cases that followed Baker v. Carr, including Gray v. Sanders, 372 U.S. 368 (1963) which concerned state county districts, Reynolds v. Sims, 377 U.S. 533 (1964) which concerned state legislature districts, Wesberry v. Sanders, 376 U.S. 1 (1964) which concerned U.S. Congressional districts and Avery v. Midland County, 390 U.S. 474 (1968) which concerned local government districts, a decision which was upheld in Board of Estimate of City of New York v. Morris, 489 U.S. 688 (1989). Evenwel v. Abbott (2016) said states may use total population in drawing districts (as opposed to eligible voters).
Ultimately the answer (in the US) is the US Constitution. The courts pretty much have the unlimited power to interpret the law, and the limits on power mainly pertain to what the state can do. The length of the leash on the government depends on what kind of rights are at stake. The weakest and default limit is known as "rational basis", and comes down to asking whether a government action is rationally related to a legitimate government interest (such as stopping terrorist attacks) plus whether there was due process and equal protection. There are more rigorous standards (intermediate scrutiny, strict scrutiny) in case a law involves a "suspect classification", or in case a fundamental constitutional right is infringed. In the case of strict scrutiny, the government would have to show that it had a compelling interest in the action, the law would have to be "narrowly tailored" (i.e. does that thing and only that thing), and should be the least restrictive way to achieve that result. Roe v. Wade is probably the best-know example of that kind of review, which held that abortion laws "violate the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment, which protects against state action the right to privacy". A court would not order a party to do an impossible act. A court could order a party to do something which the party had argued was impossible, but you can interpret a court's decision to indicate that it rejected the argument. The defendant would not shoulder the burden of proving that the action was impossible, though they would have to counter the government's argument that the act could be performed if they believe it is not possible. (In the Apple case, the argument would probably be some Apple-internal document that says "Yeah, we can do it, but do we want to?"). There is probably an expense-related limit in that the courts would not order Apple to liquidate all of their assets to comply. But: if a case were to end up at the Supreme Court, the court is stricken with mass insanity and arbitrarily orders a defendant to do the impossible, there is only the option of impeachment and Senate trial to remove the offending justices, and that is just not going to happen. There is no higher authority that overturns SCOTUS.
From what I read, it appears that the final quoted statement is not saying another authority does this so much as the Archivist does not do it. Which would mean that the when the state notifies the Archivist and says "We ratified the amendment" the Archivist accepts that the state did all required steps to ratify the amendment and doesn't need to tick a check box list of steps. Or to put anotherway, the lawful Ratification of a Constitutional Amendment in a State is determined by the state's own institutions and not the Federal Government's. Once the state says it's ratified, the Feds assume it was done so following the states own processes and was not done in an underhanded fashion.
The constitution "does not confer the franchise [the right to vote for President] on "U.S. citizens" but on "Electors" who are to be "appoint[ed]" by each "State". (Rosa v. United States, 417 F.3d 145 (1st Cir. P.R. 2005)) Thus, since no citizen has the right to vote for President, it isn't the case that Puerto Rico's citizens are being treated differently in this regard. It is just that Puerto Rico has no representatives in the Electoral College.
WWII Supreme Court Cases During WWII, the Supreme Court dealt with three main issues in their cases on Executive Order 9066: curfews, exclusions, and internment of persons with Japanese ancestry. In the lesser-known Kiyoshi Hirabayashi v. United States case, the court had to determine whether imposing a curfew on those of Japanese descent was valid. The main constitutional issue ended up being the effectiveness of the Fifth Amendment in providing for due process of law in times of war. In the end, the court decided that a curfew was indeed justified. Following this, the majority of the court found in Korematsu v. United States, that the exclusion of those with Japanese ancestry from certain military zones (in this case, the West coast) was also constitutional. In their decision, they heavily relied upon the Hirabayashi case. The question of internment of people with Japanese ancestry was not actually decided constitutionally. Another case, a habeas corpus case, Ex parte Endo might have resolved it, but the Court concluded this case in favor of Endo without going to the constitutional level. A day before this decision was announced, the government suspended Executive Order 9066, leaving the question unresolved. In these cases, Justice Frank Murphy's opinions stand out. In Hirabayashi, he sternly warned of the racism involved, but felt that the curfew was indeed justified. However, in Korematsu, he evidently felt that the exclusion was without basis and dissented, calling the majority opinion &quot;legalization of racism.&quot; Current Law In theory, these cases still stand. This is because they haven't been explicitly overruled, and the changes to the constitution since Hirabayashi aren't relevant: Amendments XXII and XXV have to do with procedural issues with the office of the President, amendments XXIII, XIV, and XXVI are related to voting rights, and XXVII addresses Congressional salaries. The constitution for the purpose of a similar order is thus unchanged, and so should theoretically be covered under Korematsu &amp; Hirabayashi. However, its effective status as precedent is shaky. For one, it has been widely condemned, and courts would likely avoid using Korematsu &amp; Hirabayashi if possible, or attempt to make a distinction from them given a slightly different order. Second, the convictions against Korematsu and Hirabayashi were overturned in the 1980s based on evidence being possibly concealed by the government. This was confirmed by the Department of Justice in 2011. However, this is an error of fact, and as such the ratio decidendi (legal reasoning) used would still technically stand as precedent. Lengthy Update: The Supreme Court has since declared Korematsu incorrect in Trump v. Hawaii. However in doing so, the court explicitly distinguished the two cases. Thus, many consider the declaration to be obiter dictum, i.e. an aside that is non-precedential. I'll quote the relevant portion so that readers may decide for themselves: Finally, the dissent invokes Korematsu v. United States, 323 U.S. 214, 65 S.Ct. 193, 89 L.Ed. 194 (1944). Whatever rhetorical advantage the dissent may see in doing so, Korematsu has nothing to do with this case. The forcible relocation of U.S. citizens to concentration camps, solely and explicitly on the basis of race, is objectively unlawful and outside the scope of Presidential authority. But it is wholly inapt to liken that morally repugnant order to a facially neutral policy denying certain foreign nationals the privilege of admission. [...] The dissent's reference to Korematsu, however, affords this Court the opportunity to make express what is already obvious: Korematsu was gravely wrong the day it was decided, has been overruled in the court of history, and—to be clear—&quot;has no place in law under the Constitution.&quot; Additionally further muddying the issue is that the judgment directly moves from referencing Korematsu to referencing concentration camps. But as noted above, Korematsu dealt with exclusion, not internment in concentration camps as is often popularly believed (though Murphy's &amp; Roberts's dissents dispute the distinction so the Trump v. Hawaii judgment may implicitly be validating this). Korematsu paragraph 20: It is said that we are dealing here with the case of imprisonment of a citizen in a concentration camp solely because of his ancestry, without evidence or inquiry concerning his loyalty and good disposition towards the United States. Our task would be simple, our duty clear, were this a case involving the imprisonment of a loyal citizen in a concentration camp because of racial prejudice. Regardless of the true nature of the assembly and relocation centers—and we deem it unjustifiable to call them concentration camps with all the ugly connotations that term implies—we are dealing specifically with nothing but an exclusion order. Future Challenges If another such order occurred, it would almost certainly reach the Supreme Court. The Court would then have to adhere to, reconcile with, or overrule Korematsu &amp; Hirabayashi. In Hirabayashi, the following key piece of reasoning was given (and quoted in Korematsu): Whatever views we may entertain regarding the loyalty to this country of the citizens of Japanese ancestry, we cannot reject as unfounded the judgment of the military authorities and of Congress that there were disloyal members of that population, whose number and strength could not be precisely and quickly ascertained. We cannot say that the war-making branches of the Government did not have ground for believing that in a critical hour such persons could not readily be isolated and separately dealt with, and constituted a menace to the national defense and safety, which demanded that prompt and adequate measures be taken to guard against it. Regardless of personal beliefs, it is hard to argue the logic behind this particular statement (mainly because it is so broad, in my opinion). However, these &quot;prompt and adequate measures&quot; would still have to be weighed against the Fifth Amendment. Additionally, we now have a historical example of what may happen if race-based exclusion were allowed, and this could inform the justices' decision. A completely different way that such an order could be ruled unconstitutional could be through separation of powers violations. It could be ruled that Congress cannot constitutionally delegate the powers expressed in Executive Order 9066, but this is rare. It was mentioned in Hirabayashi, but the court did not consider this issue, saying that since Congress agreed with the order, this point was moot. Conclusion Though the letter of the law suggests that another order like Executive Order 9066 is possible, in practice it would face significant hurdles. Such an order would likely face challenges based on the Fifth Amendment and almost certainly make its way to SCOTUS. Then, it would be up to them to decide. I'll end with this quote from the late Justice Antonin Scalia: Well, of course, Korematsu was wrong [...] But you are kidding yourself if you think the same thing will not happen again.
The question that you pose can't be answered in the abstract and the conceptual framework you introduce in the section entitled &quot;Resume&quot; is largely unsound from a legal perspective, even if it may have some political theory usefulness. Indeed, even the framework of &quot;relative power&quot; doesn't really work. The question almost always presents itself in a binary fashion. Either a law enforcement officer has authority to do some particular thing, or the officer doesn't. Frequently, there are multiple law enforcement officers in different agencies who all have the authority to do a particular thing, and whoever gets there first may do so. In U.S. law, law enforcement is highly decentralized. There are hundreds of distinct federal law enforcement agencies, dozens of distinct law enforcement agencies in every single state, and almost every local government (sometimes even school districts, water boards, and park districts) have their own law enforcement agencies. All told, the number of independent law enforcement agencies in the U.S. is in the low tens of thousands. Something on the order of 90%+ of those law enforcement officers report to local governments like cities and counties and have no direct chain of authority that goes up beyond that point. The remainder are split roughly equally between the state level and the federal level, but highly fragmented within each such level between different agencies within each state and with the federal government. The most common kind of law enforcement officer in the federal government is not the stereotypical F.B.I. agent. Instead, it is a federal park ranger. A few small states are more centralized (e.g. Hawaii), but massive decentralization is the norm. The law enforcement officers in every single one of those agencies has a statutorily defined jurisdiction. Rather than being a neat hierarchy in which one law enforcement agent is always superior to another law enforcement agent, one has to analyze the circumstances in light of a particular grant of jurisdiction. There are general trends in how these grants of authority are made, but they are far from uniform. Most grants of authority include both territorial and subject matter elements. State police can typically arrest anyone for a violation of state law within their state, but not for violations of federal law or the laws of another state under circumstances where a citizens arrest is not authorized and where there isn't a warrant outstanding. A state game warden can arrest you for violating hunting laws in his geographic area, but not for violating state tax laws or federal immigration laws. A village constable in a tiny hamlet in rural Tennessee can arrest the chief of police for the Tennessee Valley Authority's law enforcement agency (the TVA is a federally charted independent government agency), for drunk driving in that constable's village. In contrast, an F.B.I. special agent doesn't have the authority to make that arrest, but could arrest either the village constable or the TVA chief of police for taking a bribe contrary to federal anti-corruption laws. There are law enforcement officers who specialize in investigating crimes by other law enforcement officers (often in the same agency). In state and local police agencies these are usually called &quot;internal affairs officers&quot;, with a unit in the state police or state bureau of investigation that works closely with a unit of the state attorney general's office having a secondary role in this task. In the federal government, the Inspector General's office in each cabinet department is typically charged with primary responsibility for these kinds of investigations. In the military, improprieties by active duty soldiers in connection with their implementation of the Uniform Code of Military Justice would usually be investigated by the criminal investigation service in each cabinet level department (i.e. the Army, the Navy (including the Marines Corps), and the Air Force) within the Department of Defense. But in neither case is the conceptual issue one of authority. Usually any law enforcement officer in a particular agency has authority to arrest any other law enforcement officer from the same agency (with the possible exception of their direct superiors). It is a question of focus and job responsibilities, not of legal authority. There is a notion of federal supremacy under the U.S. Constitution. In a bald showdown of authority between federal law enforcement officers and state law enforcement officers, say, over who is entitled to custody of a non-law enforcement officer criminal who has been arrested, the federal law enforcement officers will prevail. But, these showdowns are rare, and interagency conflicts within state governments and the federal government respectively, if not reconciled sooner, are more often resolved by a Governor or President, through a chain of management command authority within that governmental entity, than in the courts. Even when there is no one shared chief executive between law enforcement officers, usually these disputes are resolved by negotiation between the chiefs of the respective officers, rather than through legal channels. This is much less true in most countries other than the U.S. Most countries have far fewer independent law enforcement agencies, and have more clear and hierarchical lines of authority between them. This distinction is illustrated by your professor's example: If the Queen of England pointed a gun at the President of America and the President of America pointed a gun at the Queen of England, could you prosecute and/ or charge any of them? In the U.K., nobody has the authority to arrest the Queen, and the authority to arrest the U.S. President would be highly limited by diplomatic treaties relating to the treatment of foreign heads of state. In the U.S., the question is tricker and quite fact specific. The President has immunity for his official acts, but not for his private acts. If this standoff with guns breaks out on the floor of the U.N. in the context of a breakdown of negotiations, the President hasn't committed a U.S. crime. On the other hand, suppose that the President and the Queen have been having a private tryst at a bed and breakfast at our small village hamlet in Tennessee where they have managed to escape their respective security details. (Pardon me for bringing such an icky vision into your head, this is purely for educational purposes and you should censor your own thoughts as you imagine it. I blame the questioner's professor for presenting a scenario that has this possible aspect to it.) The village constable can arrest the President for this crime in violation of Tennessee law (assuming that the President doesn't have legal justification for his acts such as self-defense) since this act was conducted in an unofficial capacity. But he probably can't arrest and charge the Queen under diplomatic treaties that the U.S. has with the U.K. In contrast, a U.S. Secret Service agent would have authority to seize the Queen sufficiently to disarm her and prevent her from being a threat to the President, even if he couldn't charge her with any crime.
The phrase "reasonable doubt" was formed hundreds of years ago, and does not hold any mathematical or probabilistic meaning. It is for each individual juror to decide for themselves what constitutes "reasonable doubt", and whether the evidence presented to them has crossed that threshold. EDIT for extra clarity: As stated above, the definition of "reasonable doubt" is intentionally vague*, and left to be decided by each juror for themselves on a case by case basis; as such there is no single rule that can be applied to jurors (also note barring accepting a bribe, a juror cannot be legally sanctioned for their conduct as a juror, nor their vote, regardless of the evidence before them). So one juror might judge by P(A|B), another might judge by the defendant's appearance, another might judge by the majority of their peers (so that they can go to a ball game that evening, such as in the film 12 Angry Men), another might disagree with the law (see: jury nullification) and so vote not guilty on that basis, and another might bow to social pressure and convict despite overwhelming evidence that the defendant is not guilty (for example, at the end of To Kill A Mockingbird). A prosecutor cares about convincing the entire jury that the defendant is guilty(outside of Oregon and Louisiana, where only 10/12 vote is needed to convict, so the prosecutor only cares convincing 10 jurors). The defense only cares about convincing a single juror (or three in LA or OR), although more can be useful to prevent a mistrial. The defense (in theory) should not care whether or not the defendant is guilty. *The origin of reasonable doubt was in Britain, where certain jurors would refuse to convict, despite any evidence, due to religious prohibitions of "Judge not, less ye be judged".
Vice President Aaron Burr was indicted in his last year as Vice President in both New Jersey and New York. The crime was killing Alexander Hamilton in an (illegal) duel. His solution? Simply don't go to those states. Eventually the charges were dropped on technical reasons. But it was nevertheless clear that no one considered it a particular problem for a sitting Vice President to be indicted in multiple states at a time, or even just one. This bit of history is even mentioned in the revised DOJ opinion referred to in Putvi's answer. Ultimately that opinion decides that the comparison between a Vice President and President is apples-to-oranges nonsense&mdash;their relative levels of power, importance, and constitutional stature are radically different&mdash;, and no substantive inferences could be made from a VP's indictability to the President's. Of course, this DOJ opinion is just the opinion of DOJ lawyers. It is not a court opinion, nor otherwise binding. It does strike me as well-written and logically strong, but it is wholly untested in a court of law (SCOTUS or otherwise). It is simply their advice on what the best course of action the DOJ can take is, given their particular function and powers within the US government and overall constitution. The main conclusion being that those functions and powers are inadequate for the DOJ to decide if it is constitutionally sound to indict a sitting President (that's a job for the judiciary), and so simply advises that they avoid that powder keg and never do so. The opinions actually do specifically hold that it might be constitutional in the right situations; they simply conclude they cannot and should not be the ones deciding if a particular case qualifies or not. For a more definitive answer, you may have to wait for various court cases against President Trump and his administration to make their way through the system. In several of them the President's/White House's lawyers have argued for absolute immunity on all criminal matters, state or federal. The judges have, to date, seemed disinclined to agree; many seem straight-up shocked that this is being seriously proposed to them. But those cases are still in progress, so we can at best make random guesses at what the actual opinions will be, and it is even harder to know what will happen on the almost-certain appeals up to the Supreme Court.