Amicus Curiae Brief — Ashley Moody, Attorney General of Florida, et al., Petitioners v. NetChoice, LLC, dba NetChoice, et al.
Supreme Court briefDec 7, 2023
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Nos. 22-277 and 22-555
IN THE
Supreme Court of the United States
ASHLEY MOODY, IN HER OFFICIAL CAPACITY AS
ATTORNEY GENERAL OF FLORIDA, ET AL.,
Petitioners,
v.
NETCHOICE, LLC; AND COMPUTER &
COMMUNICATIONS INDUSTRY ASSOCIATION,
Respondents,
NETCHOICE, LLC; AND COMPUTER &
COMMUNICATIONS INDUSTRY ASSOCIATION,
Petitioners,
v.
KEN PAXTON, IN HIS OFFICIAL CAPACITY AS
ATTORNEY GENERAL OF TEXAS
Respondent.
On Writs of Certiorari to the United States Court
of Appeals for the Fifth and Eleventh Circuits
BRIEF OF THE KNIGHT FIRST
AMENDMENT INSTITUTE AT COLUMBIA
UNIVERSITY AS AMICUS CURIAE IN
SUPPORT OF NEITHER PARTY
Scott Wilkens
Counsel of Record
Ramya Krishnan
Alex Abdo
Jameel Jaffer
Knight First Amendment Institute
at Columbia University
475 Riverside Drive, Suite 302
New York, NY 10115
(646) 745-8500
scott.wilkens@knightcolumbia.org
TABLE OF CONTENTS
TABLE OF AUTHORITIES.................................... iii
INTEREST OF AMICUS CURIAE ......................... 1
SUMMARY OF ARGUMENT .................................. 1
ARGUMENT ............................................................. 5
I.
The Court should reject constructions
of the First Amendment that would
preempt legislation that serves First
Amendment values................................... 5
II.
The Texas and Florida laws’ mustcarry provisions are unconstitutional. .... 7
A.
The First Amendment protects
the exercise of editorial
judgment. ....................................... 7
B.
Some of what social media
platforms do reflects the
exercise of editorial judgment. ...... 9
C.
Some laws that implicate
editorial judgment are
consistent with the First
Amendment. ................................ 12
D.
The analogy of social media
companies to newspapers is
helpful only to a point. ................ 14
i
E.
III.
The Florida and Texas laws’
must-carry provisions fail even
intermediate scrutiny. ................. 18
Florida’s individualized-explanation
provision is unconstitutional but
Texas’s corresponding provision is
constitutional under Zauderer............... 21
A.
Compelled commercial
disclosures are governed by the
Zauderer framework.................... 22
B.
Texas’ individualizedexplanation provision meets
Zauderer’s threshold
requirements................................ 25
C.
Texas’s individualizedexplanation provision survives
Zauderer scrutiny, but Florida’s
does not. ....................................... 29
CONCLUSION ....................................................... 34
ii
TABLE OF AUTHORITIES
Cases
303 Creative LLC v. Elenis, 600 U.S.
570 (2023) .......................................................... 23
Am. Beverage Ass’n v. City & Cnty. of
San Francisco, 916 F.3d 749 (9th
Cir. 2019) ........................................................... 30
Am. Hosp. Ass’n v. Azar, 983 F.3d 528
(D.C. Cir. 2020) ................................................. 24
Am. Meat Inst. v. U.S. Dep’t of Agric.,
760 F.3d 18 (D.C. Cir. 2014) ....................... 24, 27
Ark. Educ. Television Comm’n v.
Forbes, 523 U.S. 666 (1998) ................................ 8
Ashcroft v. Am. C.L. Union, 535 U.S.
564 (2002) .......................................................... 15
Assoc. Press v. NLRB, 301 U.S. 103
(1937) ................................................................. 11
Assoc. Press v. United States, 326 U.S.
1 (1945) ................................................................ 9
Brown v. Hartlage, 456 U.S. 45 (1982) .................... 9
Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U.S. 1 (1976) ......................... 9
iii
Cal. Chamber of Com. v. Council for
Educ. & Rsch. on Toxics, 29 F.4th
468 (9th Cir. 2022) ............................................ 28
Cal. Democratic Party v. Jones, 530
U.S. 567 (2000) .................................................. 20
Columbia Broad. Sys., Inc. v.
Democratic Nat’l Comm., 412 U.S.
94, 124 (1973) ...................................................... 8
CTIA—The Wireless Ass’n v. City of
Berkeley, Cal., 928 F.3d 832 (9th
Cir. 2019) ............................................... 24, 27, 28
Darnaa, LLC v. Google, LLC, 756 F.
App’x 674 (9th Cir. 2018) .................................. 29
Hurley v. Irish-Am. Gay, Lesbian and
Bisexual Grp. of Boston, 515 U.S.
557 (1995) ............................................ 8, 9, 13, 16
Iancu v. Brunetti, 139 S. Ct. 2294
(2019) ................................................................. 12
Miami Herald Publ’g Co. v. Tornillo,
418 U.S. 241 (1974) ......................... 7, 8, 9, 10, 11
Nat’l Ass’n of Mfrs. v. SEC, 800 F.3d
518 (D.C. Cir. 2015) .......................................... 24
Nat’l Elec. Mfrs Ass’n v. Sorrell, 272
F.3d 104 (2d Cir. 2001) ..................................... 25
iv
Nat’l Inst. of Family and Life
Advoc. v. Becerra, 138 S. Ct.
2361 (2018) .................................. 3, 22, 23, 28, 30
Pac. Gas & Elec. Co. v. Pub. Util.
Comm’n of California, 475 U.S.
1 (1986) ........................................ 8, 12, 13, 23, 28
R.J. Reynolds Tobacco Co. v. FDA, 696
F.3d 1205 (D.C. Cir. 2012) ................................ 24
Se. Promotions, Ltd. v. Conrad, 420
U.S. 546 (1975) .................................................. 15
Turner Broad. Sys., Inc. v. FCC, 512
U.S. 622 (1994) .................................. 8, 13, 14, 20
Turner Broad. Sys., Inc. v. FCC, 520
U.S. 180 (1997) ...................................... 12, 14, 20
Va. State Bd. of Pharmacy v. Va.
Citizens Consumer Council, Inc.,
425 U.S. 748 (1976) ........................................... 24
Zauderer v. Off. of Disciplinary Couns.
of the Sup. Ct. of Ohio, 471 U.S.
626 (1985) .................. 3, 21, 22, 23, 24, 27, 29, 30
Statutes
47 U.S.C. § 230 ....................................................... 16
Fla. Stat. § 106.072 ................................................ 18
Fla. Stat. § 501.2041 ........................ 4, 18, 19, 31, 32
v
Tex. Bus. & Com. Code Ann.
§ 120.103 ................................................ 26, 31, 32
Tex. Civ. Prac. & Rem. Code
§ 143A.001 ......................................................... 19
Tex. Civ. Prac. & Rem. Code
§ 143A.002 ......................................................... 19
Other Authorities
Article 17(1) of Regulation (EU)
2022/2065 of the European
Parliament and of the Council of 19
October 2022 on a Single Market
for Digital Services and amending
Directive 2000/31/EC (Digital
Services Act),
https://perma.cc/2N37-3L4S ............................. 33
Eugene Volokh, Treating Social Media
Like Common Carriers?, 1 J. Free
Speech L. 377 (2021) ................................... 11, 17
European Commission, DSA
Transparency Database,
Explanation of the information
held in the DSA Transparency
Database, Submission of clear and
specific statements,
https://perma.cc/4VFK-YZQ3 ........................... 34
vi
Genevieve Lakier, The Problem Isn’t
the Use of Analogies but the
Analogies Courts Use, Knight First
Amend. Inst. at Columbia Univ.
(Feb. 26, 2018),
https://perma.cc/WDT7-EY4J ........................... 17
Heather Whitney, Search Engines,
Social Media, and the Editorial
Analogy, Knight First Amend. Inst.
at Columbia Univ. (Feb. 27, 2018),
https://perma.cc/C4DY-4W7G .......................... 15
Jack M. Balkin, How to Regulate (and
Not Regulate) Social Media, Knight
First Amend. Inst. at Columbia
Univ. (March 25, 2020),
https://perma.cc/7RVH-BV6F ........................... 10
Kate Klonick, The New Governors: The
People, Rules, and Processes
Governing Online Speech, 131
Harv. L. Rev. 1598 (2017) ................................. 15
Oren Bracha, The Folklore of
Informationalism: The Case of
Search Engine Speech, 82 Fordham
L. Rev. 1629 (2014) ........................................... 17
Rachel Kraus, Facebook labeled 180
million posts as ‘false’ since March.
Election misinformation spread
anyway, Nov. 19, 2020,
https://perma.cc/8HBA-CUWZ ......................... 31
vii
Ramya Krishnan, The Pitfalls of
Platform Analogies in
Reconsidering the Shape of the
First Amendment, Knight First
Amend. Inst. at Columbia Univ.
(May 19, 2021),
https://perma.cc/QHD8-7JLS ........................... 17
Robinson Meyer, How Many Stories
Do Newspapers Publish Per Day?
The Atlantic (May 26, 2016),
https://perma.cc/Q6TQ-GEHE .......................... 16
Who We Are: Company Info, Meta,
https://perma.cc/2WFD-Z9KV .......................... 16
X Terms of Service, X,
https://perma.cc/2S2L-VPA5 ............................ 29
Yoel Roth & Nick Pickles, Updating
our approach to misleading
information, Twitter Blog (May 11,
2020), https://perma.cc/9JJ7-JDBM ................. 10
viii
INTEREST OF AMICUS CURIAE 1
The Knight First Amendment Institute at
Columbia University (“Knight Institute” or
“Institute”) is a non-partisan, not-for-profit
organization that works to defend the freedoms of
speech and the press in the digital age through
strategic litigation, research, and public education.
The Institute’s aim is to promote a system of free
expression that is open and inclusive, that broadens
and elevates public discourse, and that fosters
creativity, accountability, and effective selfgovernment.
Amicus has a particular interest in these cases
because of the vital role social media platforms play
as forums for public discourse. These cases may have
far-reaching implications for the free speech rights
of the platforms and their users, and for the ability
of government to enact legislation essential to
ensuring that the digital public sphere serves
democracy.
SUMMARY OF ARGUMENT
Social media platforms have enormous power to
shape public discourse. One of the ways they
exercise that power is by establishing and enforcing
acceptable-use policies, i.e. by moderating user
content. These cases ask the Court to consider
1 No counsel for any party authored this brief in whole or in
part, and no person or entity other than amicus or its counsel
made a monetary contribution to fund the preparation or
submission of the brief. Sup. Ct. R. 37.6.
1
whether and when the government can restrict the
platforms’
content-moderation
activities
consistently with the First Amendment. They also
require the Court to consider how the First
Amendment applies to regulations that require
platforms to disclose information about those
activities.
Unfortunately, none of the parties in this case
offers a compelling theory of how the First
Amendment should apply to the regulation of social
media. Florida and Texas (the “States”) contend that
the platforms’ content-moderation decisions do not
implicate the First Amendment at all. If accepted,
this theory would give governments sweeping
authority over the digital public sphere and impede
social media companies from building distinctive
online communities and from addressing real harms
to users. The platforms take a diametrically opposed
position, arguing that any regulation implicating
their content-moderation decisions must be
subjected to the most stringent First Amendment
scrutiny,
or
perhaps
even
regarded
as
unconstitutional per se. This theory would make it
nearly impossible for governments to enact even
carefully drawn laws that serve First Amendment
values.
The Court should reject both of these theories. As
this brief explains, social media platforms’ contentmoderation decisions are protected by the First
Amendment because they reflect the exercise of
editorial judgment. On this important, threshold
question, the platforms are correct. That contentmoderation is protected by the First Amendment,
2
however, does not mean that any regulation that
touches on it is unconstitutional. Here, as in other
contexts, the relevant level of scrutiny will turn on
the nature of the regulation, with content-neutral
regulations being subject to intermediate scrutiny
and content-based ones being subject to strict
scrutiny. And here, as in other contexts, whether a
regulation survives the relevant level of scrutiny will
turn on, among other things, the strength of the
government’s
regulatory
interest
and
the
significance of the burden the regulation imposes on
First Amendment activity. In an effort to elide these
questions, the platforms and some of their amici
suggest that precedents involving the regulation of
newspapers decide this case. But social media
platforms and newspapers are different in
important respects, and these differences should
matter to the First Amendment analysis, as
explained below.
The Court should also reject the parties’ most
extreme arguments about the disclosure provisions.
As the Court has said in other contexts, regulations
that require businesses to disclose purely factual
and uncontroversial information about their
services are constitutional unless they are
“unjustified” or “unduly burden[] protected speech.”
Nat’l Inst. of Family and Life Advoc. v. Becerra
(NIFLA), 138 S. Ct. 2361, 2377 (2018); see also
Zauderer v. Off. of Disciplinary Couns. of the Sup.
Ct. of Ohio, 471 U.S. 626, 651 (1985). This is because
these kinds of provisions promote the free flow of
accurate information to the public about goods and
services, furthering the interest that was the
justification for extending First Amendment
3
protection to commercial speech in the first place.
Zauderer’s framework is appropriate in this context
because it accounts for both of the First Amendment
interests in play—the platforms’ interest in the
independent exercise of editorial judgment, and
users’ interest in understanding the platforms that
have become the infrastructure for public discourse.
Zauderer’s undue-burden test is also flexible enough
to account for the more substantial free-speech
interests implicated by disclosure provisions that
touch upon expressive activity.
Applying this framework, the Florida and Texas
must–carry provisions are unconstitutional because
they override the platforms’ editorial judgment and
fail even intermediate scrutiny.2 Florida’s
individualized-explanation
provision
is
also
unconstitutional because it fails even under
Zauderer, but Texas’s corresponding provision,
properly construed, survives Zauderer scrutiny
because it requires the disclosure only of factual and
uncontroversial information and does not unduly
burden the platforms’ exercise of editorial judgment.
2 This brief does not address the other content-moderation
provisions of the Florida law, including the “consistency,” “30day restriction,” and “user opt-out” provisions. Fla. Stat. §
501.2041(2)(b), (c), (f), (g).
4
ARGUMENT
I.
The Court should reject constructions
of the First Amendment that would
preempt legislation that serves First
Amendment values.
The parties in this case offer radically different
theories of how the First Amendment applies to the
regulation of social media. Florida and Texas
contend that laws restricting the platforms from
curating the speech on their sites do not implicate
the First Amendment at all because they “regulate[]
conduct, not speech.”3 The platforms, by contrast,
argue that any law implicating editorial judgment
must be subject to strict scrutiny, or perhaps even
regarded as unconstitutional per se.4
Thus, the parties offer two theories of the First
Amendment—one that would render the First
Amendment largely irrelevant to the regulation of
social media, and another that would make the First
Amendment a near-categorical bar to such
regulation. The Court should reject both of these
theories. The platforms are correct that their
content-moderation policies and decisions are
protected by the First Amendment because they
reflect the exercise of editorial judgment. That a law
3 Moody Pet. at 18–19; Paxton Pet. Opp. at 18.
4 The platforms argue, for example, that the Texas law’s
disclosure provisions are “per se invalid as intrusions targeting
editorial functions.” Plaintiffs’ Motion for Preliminary
Injunction at 24, NetChoice, LLC v. Paxton, No. 1:21-cv-00840
(W.D. Tex. Nov. 1, 2021).
5
implicates editorial judgment, however, does not
mean the law is unconstitutional. As in other
contexts, content-based laws are constitutional if
they survive strict scrutiny, and content-neutral
laws are constitutional if they survive intermediate
scrutiny. Moreover, laws requiring the disclosure of
purely factual and uncontroversial information
about the terms on which a service is offered are
constitutional if they are not unjustified and do not
impose an undue burden on speech.
The Court should accordingly reject the parties’
arguments about the application of the First
Amendment in this context. It should reject them
not only because they are inconsistent with
precedent, but also because neither of them would
serve our society well. The States’ version of the
First Amendment would give the government
sweeping authority over the digital public sphere
and impede social media companies from addressing
real harms online. The platforms’ theory, by
contrast, would make it extremely difficult, if not
impossible, for governments to enact even carefully
drawn laws intended to protect the free speech
rights of the platforms’ users and to ensure that our
system of free expression serves democracy—for
example, laws that would require platforms to be
accountable to the users with whom they have
entered into contractual agreements, protect the
privacy of those users, and promote competition and
interoperability.
6
II.
The Texas and Florida laws’ must-carry
provisions are unconstitutional.
A.
The First Amendment protects the
exercise of editorial judgment.
In an important series of cases, this Court has
recognized that the First Amendment protects the
exercise of “editorial judgment.” In Miami Herald
Publishing Company v. Tornillo, 418 U.S. 241
(1974), the Court invalidated a statute requiring
newspapers that criticized political candidates to
afford those candidates an opportunity to reply, in
the newspapers’ own pages, free of charge and with
equal prominence and space. 418 U.S. at 244 & n.2.
The Court concluded that the statute “fail[ed] to
clear the barriers of the First Amendment because
[it] intru[ded] into the function of editors” by
compelling them “to publish that which ‘reason’ tells
them should not be published.” Id. at 256, 258.
Observing that “[a] newspaper is more than a
passive receptacle or conduit for news, comment,
and advertising,” the Court held that “[t]he choice of
material to go into a newspaper, and the decisions
made as to limitations on the size and content of the
paper, and treatment of public issues and public
officials—whether fair or unfair—constitute the
exercise of editorial control and judgment.” Id. at
258. In his concurrence, Justice White underscored
that “the very nerve center of a newspaper,” is “the
decision as to what copy will or will not be included,”
and that the First Amendment prohibits the
government from dictating “the contents of [a
newspaper’s] news columns or the slant of its
7
editorials.” Id. at 259–61 (White, J., concurring); see
also Columbia Broad. Sys., Inc. v. Democratic Nat’l
Comm., 412 U.S. 94, 124 (1973) (“editing is what
editors are for; and editing is selection and choice of
material”).
Since Tornillo, the Court has held that the First
Amendment protects the exercise of editorial
judgment in other contexts, and by other kinds of
actors. See, e.g., Pac. Gas & Elec. Co. v. Pub. Util.
Comm’n of California, 475 U.S. 1, 14–16 (1986)
(plurality op.) (requiring utility to include in its
newsletter views opposed to its own interfered with
utility’s editorial judgment by forcing it to
disassociate itself from those views);5 Turner Broad.
Sys., Inc. v. FCC, 512 U.S. 622, 636, 643–44 (1994)
(cable must-carry provisions interfered with
operators’ “editorial discretion over which stations
or programs to include in [their] repertoire,” through
which operators “seek[] to communicate messages
on a wide variety of topics”); Hurley v. Irish-Am.
Gay, Lesbian and Bisexual Grp. of Boston, 515 U.S.
557, 572–75 (1995) (parade organizer exercised
editorial judgment in excluding a gay rights group,
because the group’s participation would alter the
parade’s expressive content and thus the organizer’s
own message); Ark. Educ. Television Comm’n v.
Forbes, 523 U.S. 666, 673, 683 (1998) (rejecting First
Amendment challenge to broadcaster’s exclusion of
political candidate from debate because excluding
candidate fell within broadcaster’s “editorial
5 All subsequent citations to Pacific Gas are to the plurality
opinion.
8
discretion in the selection and presentation of [its]
programming”).
The protection that the Court conferred on
editorial judgment in these cases is vital for more
than one reason. Protecting editorial discretion in
these contexts was a way of recognizing and
affirming the “principle of autonomy to control one’s
own speech.” Hurley, 515 U.S. at 574. It was also,
more fundamentally, a way of protecting public
discourse from government intervention that might
have distorted democratic self-governance. Tornillo,
418 U.S. at 257 (emphasizing the danger that
government intervention into editorial decisions will
distort, “dampen[],” or “limit[] the variety of” public
debate); Brown v. Hartlage, 456 U.S. 45, 60 (1982)
(observing that the First Amendment “embodies our
trust in the free exchange of ideas as the means by
which the people are to choose between good ideas
and bad”); Assoc. Press v. United States, 326 U.S. 1,
20 (1945) (First Amendment intended to ensure “the
widest possible dissemination of information from
diverse and antagonistic sources”); see also Buckley
v. Valeo, 424 U.S. 1, 49 (1976) (per curiam).
B.
Some of what social media
platforms do reflects the exercise
of editorial judgment.
Social media companies exercise editorial
discretion in at least two contexts: when they specify
and enforce “community standards” that restrict
what categories of content users can post, and when
they attach warning labels to user content.
9
When social media companies specify and enforce
community standards, they make decisions roughly
analogous to the ones this Court held to be protected
in Tornillo, Pacific Gas, Turner, and Hurley. They
decide what categories of content will appear on
their platforms and what categories will not. Their
decisions reflect judgments about the relative value
of those categories of content. And collectively, these
decisions determine the expressive character of the
product they provide to their users.6 In Tornillo, the
Court observed that “[t]he choice of material to go
into a newspaper” is at the core of editorial
judgment. 418 U.S. at 258. Here, too, decisions about
what content to include or exclude are properly
characterized as editorial in nature.
The platforms also exercise editorial judgment
when they attach labels to third-party content.
Platforms deploy these labels for a variety of
reasons, including to alert users to content that may
be disturbing and to flag content that platforms
believe to be misleading or false.7 Whereas most
content posted on social media platforms is
generated by users, labels are distinctive in that
6 See Jack M. Balkin, How to Regulate (and Not Regulate)
Social Media, Knight First Amend. Inst. at Columbia Univ.
(March 25, 2020), https://perma.cc/7RVH-BV6F (observing
that social media platforms, like twentieth-century mass
media, “set boundaries on permissible content” and thereby
“curate public discourse”).
7 Yoel Roth & Nick Pickles, Updating our approach to
misleading information, Twitter Blog (May 11, 2020),
https://perma.cc/9JJ7-JDBM.
10
they are generated by the platforms themselves.8
They are roughly analogous to newspaper editorials,
in which newspapers speak directly on matters of
public concern. As such, they fall comfortably within
the scope of “editorial judgment.” As the Court made
clear in Tornillo, editorial judgment encompasses
the “treatment of public issues,” which the
attachment of warning labels generally is. 418 U.S.
at 258. And attaching labels to content also reflects
decisions about the value of the speech to which the
labels are attached, just as specifying community
standards does. Even if the attachment of a warning
label did not entail the exercise of editorial
judgment, it would still constitute speech protected
by the First Amendment, for the same reasons that
an editorial constitutes speech.
Of course, that social media companies exercise
editorial judgment in these two contexts does not
mean that all of their business practices fall within
the scope of the First Amendment. The relevant
inquiry is not whether a regulated entity exercises
editorial judgment in some context, but whether the
entity exercises editorial judgment in the specific
context addressed by the regulation. See e.g., Assoc.
Press v. NLRB, 301 U.S. 103 (1937) (upholding
NLRB order directing Associated Press to reinstate
editor fired for his union activity, because the order
did not in any way limit the Associated Press’s
freedom to publish the news as it saw fit). The
important point for present purposes is that some of
8 E.g., Eugene Volokh, Treating Social Media Like Common
Carriers?, 1 J. Free Speech L. 377, 433 (2021) (acknowledging
that “posting fact-checks or warnings” is platform speech).
11
the platforms’ activities reflect the exercise of
editorial judgment—and that these activities are
restricted by the challenged regulations, as
discussed further below.
C.
Some laws that implicate editorial
judgment are consistent with the
First Amendment.
Even regulations that implicate editorial
judgment can be constitutional in some contexts.
Content-based regulations will be constitutional if
they satisfy strict scrutiny. Iancu v. Brunetti, 139 S.
Ct. 2294, 2304 (2019) (“even when we consider a
regulation . . . that is subject to ‘strict scrutiny,’ we
sometimes find the regulation to be constitutional
after weighing the competing interests involved.”).
And content-neutral laws are constitutional if they
satisfy intermediate scrutiny. Content-neutral laws
are reviewed less stringently because they “do not
pose the same inherent dangers to free expression,
and thus are subject to a less rigorous analysis,
which affords the Government latitude in designing
a regulatory solution.” Turner Broad. Sys., Inc. v.
FCC (Turner II), 520 U.S. 180, 213 (1997) (internal
quotation marks and citation omitted).
Tornillo, Pacific Gas, and Hurley show that
content-based laws that interfere with editorial
judgment are subject to strict scrutiny. The right-ofreply statute in Tornillo was content-based because
it “was triggered by a particular category of
newspaper speech,” and awarded access “only to
those who disagreed with the newspaper’s views.”
Pacific Gas, 475 U.S. at 13. Although the forced12
access rule in Pacific Gas was not triggered by any
speech of the utility, the Court found that it was
nonetheless content-based because it provided
access only to a third party with opposing views. Id.
at 12–14. The Court in Hurley did not expressly
state that it was applying strict scrutiny, but it
suggested as much by emphasizing that the parade
organizer, like the newspaper in Tornillo and the
utility in Pacific Gas, was forced to “disseminat[e] a
view contrary to [its] own,” which “compromised” its
“right to autonomy over [its] message.” 515 U.S. at
576.
In Turner, by contrast, the Court applied only
intermediate scrutiny because it concluded that the
challenged provisions were content-neutral. In that
case, the Court considered provisions that required
cable operators to carry local broadcast stations. The
Court concluded that the provisions burdened the
cable operators’ exercise of editorial judgment but
upheld them anyway. It did so after concluding that
the “overriding objective . . . was not to favor
programming of a particular subject matter,
viewpoint, or format, but rather to preserve access
to free television programming for the 40 percent of
Americans without cable.” Turner I, 512 U.S. at 646.
The Court expressly rejected the cable operators’
argument that Tornillo and Pacific Gas required
strict scrutiny merely because the must-carry
provisions compelled the “operators to transmit
speech not of their choosing.” Id. at 653. The Court
explained that the must-carry provisions were
content-neutral, unlike the regulations at issue in
Tornillo and Pacific Gas, because they were not
13
triggered “by any particular message spoken by
cable operators,” and they were not an attempt to
“counterbalance the messages” of the regulated
entity. Id. at 655. The Court also noted that cable
operators would not need to alter their own
messages to disavow the content of broadcasts,
because cable operators’ subscribers would not
associate those companies with the content of
broadcast channels in the first place. Id.
Having concluded that the must-carry provisions
were
content-neutral,
the
Court
applied
intermediate scrutiny and upheld the provisions,
because they were “designed to address a real
harm,” actually alleviated this harm, and were
narrowly tailored to the government’s important
regulatory interest. Turner II, 520 U.S. 180, 195,
215–16.
D.
The analogy of social media
companies to newspapers is
helpful only to a point.
Social media platforms are like traditional
newspapers in that some of their activities involve
the exercise of editorial judgment. But social media
platforms are different from newspapers in
important ways. In any particular context, those
differences might matter to whether a particular
activity entails the exercise of editorial judgment,
how significantly a regulation burdens that
judgment, and the strength of the government’s
14
interest in imposing the burden.9 As the Court has
emphasized, “each medium of expression . . . must
be assessed for First Amendment purposes by
standards suited to it, for each may present its own
problems.” Se. Promotions, Ltd. v. Conrad, 420 U.S.
546, 557 (1975); Ashcroft v. Am. C.L. Union, 535 U.S.
564, 595 (2002) (“The economics and the technology
of each medium affect both the burden of a speech
restriction and the Government’s interest in
maintaining it.”).
Social media platforms differ from traditional
newspapers in multiple ways. For example, whereas
newspapers comprise mainly of content they
themselves create or specifically solicit, most
content posted on social media platforms is
generated by the platforms’ users.10 Newspapers are
highly selective in what they publish; they exercise
close curatorial control over their pages. Social
media companies generally have community
standards that place broad limits on what content
can be published on their platforms, but within
these limits they publish virtually everything that
users submit to them. All of this means that
newspapers are directly and “intimately connected”
9 See generally Heather Whitney, Search Engines, Social
Media, and the Editorial Analogy, Knight First Amend. Inst.
at Columbia Univ. (Feb. 27, 2018), https://perma.cc/C4DY4W7G.
10 Kate Klonick, The New Governors: The People, Rules, and
Processes Governing Online Speech, 131 Harv. L. Rev. 1598,
1660 (2017).
15
with the content they publish in a way that social
media platforms are not. Hurley, 515 U.S. at 576.
There is also a vast disparity in scale between
newspapers and social media platforms. The New
York Times online edition “publishes roughly 150
articles a day.”11 Over the same period, Facebook
users share more than 1 billion stories and 100
billion messages.12 This disparity exists because
platforms and newspapers have different business
models and because they operate under different
legal regimes (or, perhaps more accurately, because
they benefit to different extents from the same legal
regime). See 47 U.S.C. § 230 (immunizing online
services from civil liability for content posted by
third parties). Because of their scale and the role
they play in facilitating the speech of their users, the
major platforms are gatekeepers to public discourse
in a way that even the most influential newspapers
are not.
Newspapers are also coherent speech products in
a way that social media platforms are not. By
affirmatively selecting the subjects and viewpoints
that will make it into the paper, newspapers
communicate their own message to readers by
“combining multifarious voices.” Hurley, 515 U.S. at
Robinson Meyer, How Many Stories Do Newspapers
Publish Per Day? The Atlantic (May 26, 2016),
https://perma.cc/Q6TQ-GEHE.
11
12
Who
We
Are:
https://perma.cc/2WFD-Z9KV.
16
Company
Info,
Meta,
569.13 Because social media platforms are focused on
facilitating users’ speech, they are not curated in the
same granular way, and they are simply too
sprawling and diverse to be understood as coherent
speech products. Again, social media companies do
set community standards that delineate the outer
boundaries of permissible speech on their platforms,
and they do enforce these community standards to
one extent or another. But specifying and enforcing
community standards is not the same thing as
selecting and editing individual articles. This is why
newspapers’ readers tend to attribute newspapers’
content to the newspapers’ publishers, whereas
platforms’ users do not generally attribute the
content on the platforms to the platforms’ owners.14
These differences should be considered in any
First Amendment analysis. Some regulations that
would burden editorial judgment if imposed on
newspapers might not burden editorial judgment if
imposed on social media companies, or might not
burden it to the same extent. And the government
13 See also Oren Bracha, The Folklore of Informationalism:
The Case of Search Engine Speech, 82 Fordham L. Rev. 1629,
1651 (2014) (describing newspapers as producing “an
integrated expressive whole with which [the newspaper] is
associated”); Volokh, supra at 405 (describing newspapers as
providing a “coherent speech product”).
14 Bracha, supra at 1647–48; Genevieve Lakier, The
Problem Isn’t the Use of Analogies but the Analogies Courts
Use, Knight First Amend. Inst. at Columbia Univ. (Feb. 26,
2018), https://perma.cc/WDT7-EY4J; Ramya Krishnan, The
Pitfalls of Platform Analogies in Reconsidering the Shape of the
First Amendment, Knight First Amend. Inst. at Columbia
Univ. (May 19, 2021), https://perma.cc/QHD8-7JLS.
17
might have different reasons, and perhaps stronger
ones, for imposing certain kinds of regulatory
burdens on social media companies. Accordingly, the
analogy of social media companies to newspapers is
helpful only to a point. The similarities between
platforms and newspapers are important, but, in
any particular context the differences might be
important, too.
E.
The Florida and Texas laws’ mustcarry provisions fail even
intermediate scrutiny.
The must-carry provisions are unconstitutional
because they override the platforms’ exercise of
editorial discretion and cannot survive even
intermediate scrutiny. These provisions force
platforms to publish a vast array of speech they do
not want to publish, and that they view as
inconsistent with the expressive communities they
are trying to foster. The provisions also preclude the
platforms from attaching labels to users’ posts—that
is, from editorializing about them. Neither Florida
nor Texas has established that these provisions are
narrowly tailored to any important interest.
The
Florida
law
prohibits
“willfully
deplatform[ing] a candidate” for public office, Fla.
Stat. § 106.072(2), or “us[ing] post-prioritization or
shadow banning algorithms for content and material
posted by or about” a candidate. Id. § 501.2041(2)(h).
It also prohibits “censor[ing], deplatform[ing], or
shadow ban[ning] a journalistic enterprise based on
the content of its publication or broadcast.” Id.
§ 501.2041(2)(j). The law expressly bars platforms
18
from attaching labels to user content. Id. § 501.2041
(1)(b).
The Texas law’s must-carry provision has a
significantly broader sweep, prohibiting platforms
from “censor[ing] a user, a user’s expression, or a
user’s ability to receive the expression of another
person based on . . . the viewpoint of the user or
another person, [or] the viewpoint represented in the
user’s expression or another person's expression.”
Tex. Civ. Prac. & Rem. Code § 143A.002. It does not
matter whether “the viewpoint is expressed on a
social media platform or through any other
medium.” Id. Because a great deal of user content
expresses a viewpoint, the Texas law’s must-carry
provision extends to a broad swath of content.
Moreover, like Florida’s law, the Texas law defines
“censor” broadly to include almost any action taken
by a platform to restrict the visibility of user content,
including attaching labels to user content.15 See Fla.
Stat. § 501.2041(1)(b); Tex. Civ. Prac. & Rem. Code
§ 143A.001.
15 The Florida law defines “[c]ensor” to “include[] any action
taken” to “delete, regulate, restrict, edit, alter, inhibit the
publication or republication of, suspend a right to post, remove,
or post an addendum to any content or material posted by a
user. Fla. Stat. § 501.2041(1)(b). The Texas law defines
“censor” to mean “block, ban, remove, deplatform, demonetize,
de-boost, restrict, deny equal access or visibility to, or
otherwise discriminate against expression.” Tex. Civ. Prac. &
Rem. Code § 143A.001. Although the Texas law’s definition of
“censor” does not expressly encompass attaching labels to user
content, it restricts this activity because labeling content
“den[ies] equal access or visibility to, or otherwise
discriminate[s] against expression.” Id.
19
The Court need not decide whether these mustcarry provisions are content neutral or content
based, because they fail even intermediate scrutiny.
The States, relying on Turner, assert that they have
a substantial interest in “‘assuring that the public
has access to a multiplicity of information sources.’”
Moody Pet. 25–26 (quoting Turner, 512 U.S. at 663);
Paxton Pet Opp. 26–28 (same). While this interest
is, as Turner says, of the “highest order,” it is not in
itself sufficient to justify the must-carry provisions
at issue here. 512 U.S. at 663. Turner makes clear
that “[w]hen the Government defends a regulation
on speech as a means to redress past harms or
prevent anticipated harms, it must do more than
simply posit the existence of the disease sought to be
cured.” Id. at 664 (citation and internal quotation
marks omitted); see also Cal. Democratic Party v.
Jones, 530 U.S. 567, 584 (2000). It must show
instead that the law would redress a specific harm.
The government did so in Turner by showing that
the must-carry provisions at issue there were
designed to protect the survival of over-the-air
broadcast television against the anticompetitive
practices of cable operators. Turner II, 520 U.S. at
196–213. The States make no comparable showing
here. Moody Pet. 25–26; Paxton Pet. Opp. 26–27.
Even if the must-carry provisions advanced a
substantial interest, the States have failed to show
that the provisions are narrowly tailored to that
interest. Most significantly, as explained above, the
States have failed to provide any justification at all
for restricting the ability of platforms to attach
labels to user speech. That restriction serves no
legitimate governmental interest at all; it serves
20
only to silence the platforms and impoverish public
discourse.
III.
Florida’s individualized-explanation
provision is unconstitutional but
Texas’s corresponding provision is
constitutional under Zauderer.
Whether the States’ individualized-explanation
provisions comply with the First Amendment should
be assessed under Zauderer. Zauderer provides the
appropriate framework here because it accounts
both for the value to public discourse of compelled
disclosures in the commercial context and also for
the potential burden that disclosure requirements
impose on the speech rights of those subject to them.
As Zauderer recognized, disclosures of “purely
factual and uncontroversial information” about the
terms under which goods and services are offered to
the public promote the free flow of information
relevant to democratic decision-making—the
primary justification for the First Amendment’s
protection of commercial speech. Zauderer, 471 U.S.
at 651. Importantly, however, Zauderer’s framework
accounts not just for the value of commercial
disclosures to the public but also for the potential
burden that disclosure requirements impose on the
speech of those subject to them. It is true that this
Court has not yet had an opportunity to consider
Zauderer’s application to disclosure requirements
that relate to a company’s expressive activities. But
Zauderer’s framework is appropriate even with
respect to such requirements because it
contemplates that the government’s burden of
21
justification will increase with the burden on
expression. The more substantial the burden a
disclosure requirement imposes on speech, the more
substantial the governmental interest must be for
the government to demonstrate that the burden is
not “undue” or “unjustified.”
A.
Compelled commercial
disclosures are governed by the
Zauderer framework.
Under Zauderer, laws that compel the disclosure
of “purely factual and uncontroversial information
about the terms under which [a company’s] services
will be available” are evaluated less stringently than
laws that compel the disclosure of other forms of
speech. Id. ; see also NIFLA, 138 S. Ct. at 2372.
Specifically, commercial disclosure requirements
are constitutional under Zauderer unless they are
unjustified or impose an undue burden on speech.
Id. at 2372, 2378; see also Zauderer, 471 U.S. at 651.
Contrary to the platforms’ claim, Zauderer
extends to commercial disclosure mandates
generally, not just those that “correct[] misleading
advertising.” NetChoice No. 22-555 Br. at 16–17; see
also id. at 47–48; NetChoice No. 22-277 Br. at 39 n.6.
In Zauderer itself, the Court upheld a rule that
required lawyers who advertised their services on a
contingency-fee basis to disclose that clients could be
required to pay fees and costs. Zauderer, 471 U.S. at
650–53. The Court emphasized that the disclosure
requirement did “not attempt[] to prevent attorneys
from conveying information to the public,” but “only
22
required them to provide somewhat more
information than they might otherwise be inclined
to present”—“purely factual and uncontroversial
information about the terms under which [their]
services will be available.” Id. at 650–51. The
attorney’s “constitutionally protected interest in not
providing any particular factual information in his
advertising [was] minimal,” the Court reasoned,
because the First Amendment’s “protection [of]
commercial speech is justified principally by the
value to consumers of the information such speech
provides.” Id. (emphasis in original). The Court thus
concluded that while “unjustified or unduly
burdensome disclosure requirements might offend
the First Amendment by chilling protected
commercial speech, . . . an advertiser’s rights are
adequately protected as long as disclosure
requirements are reasonably related to the State’s
interest in preventing deception of consumers.” Id.
While Zauderer itself concerned a law intended
to address consumer deception in commercial
advertising, its reasoning applies more broadly. This
Court has long presumed that Zauderer extends
beyond this context. NIFLA, 138 S. Ct. at 2376
(“[W]e do not question the legality of health and
safety warnings long considered permissible, or
purely factual and uncontroversial disclosures about
commercial products.”); Pacific Gas, 475 U.S. at 16
n.12 (“The State, of course, has substantial leeway
in determining appropriate disclosure requirements
for business corporations.” (citing Zauderer)); see
also 303 Creative LLC v. Elenis, 600 U.S. 570, 596
(2023) (“[O]ur cases have held that that the
government may sometimes ‘requir[e] the
23
dissemination of purely factual and uncontroversial
information,’ particularly in the context of
‘commercial advertising.’” (quoting Hurley, 515 U.S.
at 573)). And every federal court of appeals to
consider the question has recognized as much. See,
e.g., CTIA—The Wireless Ass’n v. City of Berkeley,
Cal., 928 F.3d 832, 844 (9th Cir. 2019) (collecting
cases).16
This conclusion is supported by Zauderer itself,
which recognized that commercial disclosure
requirements serve the principal justification for
“[extending] First Amendment protection to
commercial speech” in the first instance—“the value
to consumers of the information such speech
provides.” 471 U.S. at 651; see also Va. State Bd. of
Pharmacy v. Va. Citizens Consumer Council, Inc.,
425 U.S. 748, 765 (1976) (holding that “the free flow
of commercial information is indispensable” to the
“formation of intelligent opinions” about our
economic system and, ultimately, to “public
decisionmaking in a democracy”). Plainly, this
rationale applies to any disclosure requirement that
16 The D.C. Circuit initially read Zauderer more narrowly,
but subsequently reversed course. See R.J. Reynolds Tobacco
Co. v. FDA, 696 F.3d 1205, 1213 (D.C. Cir. 2012) (Zauderer
limited to consumer deception context), overruled by Am. Meat
Inst. v. U.S. Dep’t of Agric. (AMI), 760 F.3d 18, 22 (D.C. Cir.
2014) (en banc) (“The language with which Zauderer justified
its approach . . . sweeps far more broadly than the interest in
remedying deception.”); Nat’l Ass’n of Mfrs. v. SEC (NAM), 800
F.3d 518, 522–23 (D.C. Cir. 2015) (Zauderer limited to
commercial advertising); Am. Hosp. Ass’n v. Azar (AHA), 983
F.3d 528, 541 (D.C. Cir. 2020) (explaining that, contrary to
NAM, “our court has not so limited” Zauderer).
24
facilitates the free flow of accurate commercial
information—not only to requirements that serve
the government’s interest in preventing consumer
deception in commercial advertising. See Nat’l Elec.
Mfrs Ass’n v. Sorrell, 272 F.3d 104, 114 (2d Cir.
2001) (“Protection of the robust and free flow of
accurate information is the principal First
Amendment justification for protecting commercial
speech, and requiring disclosure of truthful
information promotes that goal”).
Zauderer provides the proper framework for
evaluating
even
commercial
disclosure
requirements that relate to expressive activity.
Where it applies, Zauderer’s undue-burden test
requires courts to determine whether a disclosure
requirement imposes a burden that is “undue” or
“unjustified”—that is, it calls for a sliding-scale
consideration of free-speech benefits and burdens.
The greater the burden on speech, the more the
government must do to justify it. This framework
properly accounts both for the value to public
discourse of compelled disclosures in the commercial
context and for the potential burden that disclosure
requirements impose on speech.
B.
Texas’ individualized-explanation
provision meets Zauderer’s
threshold requirements.
Texas’s individualized-explanation provision is
subject to Zauderer scrutiny because it satisfies
Zauderer’s threshold requirements. It requires the
disclosure of information that is (i) factual and (ii)
uncontroversial, and that (iii) relates to commercial
25
services provided to the public. The platforms do not
claim otherwise. NetChoice No. 22-555 Br. at 16–17,
47–48; NetChoice No. 22-277 Br. at 39–40. Amicus
takes no position on whether Florida’s provision
satisfies Zauderer’s threshold requirements,
because even if it did, it would fail Zauderer’s undueburden test, as explained further below.
Texas’s provision requires platforms to notify
users when their content is removed and to “explain
the reason the content was removed.” Tex. Bus. &
Com. Code Ann. § 120.103(a)(1).17 Amicus
understands this text to require platforms to
identify the provision within their terms of service
upon which they relied in removing user content.
And importantly, it is amicus’s understanding that
the platforms could comply with this requirement
through automated means, without individualized
human review.
Requiring a platform to notify users of the reason
why their content was removed is to require the
disclosure of “purely factual” information. All major
platforms enter into contractual relationships with
their users, in which the users agree to abide by
terms of service, including acceptable use policies,
and the platforms reserve the right to remove
content that violates the terms. Requiring the
platforms to notify users of the basis for the removal
17 The Texas provision also requires platforms to “allow the
user to appeal.” Id. This requirement should not be evaluated
under Zauderer because it is not a compelled-disclosure
requirement. Amicus does not address the constitutionality of
this requirement in this brief.
26
of their content under these terms does not require
the platforms to express an opinion. Rather, it
requires the disclosure only of objective facts. See
Zauderer, 471 U.S. at 651; CTIA, 928 F.3d at 846–
48 (information is “purely factual” if it is “literally
true” and not “misleading”).18
NetChoice’s amici argue that the States’ laws
require the disclosure of subjective information, in
the form of the platforms’ “editorial standards.”
RCFP & ACLU Amicus Br. at 26. But this is wrong
with respect to at least Texas’s law. That law is best
understood to require the platforms to identify only
the contractual provision on the basis of which they
removed their customers’ content. This is not so
different from a law requiring an author’s publisher
to identify the contractual provision relied upon in
terminating the author’s book contract.
Texas’s
disclosure
requirement
is
also
“uncontroversial,” because there can be no “dispute
about [the] simple factual accuracy” of the
information that must be disclosed, and because it
does not require platforms to disseminate a “onesided . . . message” to users. AMI, 760 F.3d at 27; see
also id. at 35 (Kavanaugh J., concurring) (finding
the “uncontroversial” requirement easily met where
18 NetChoice contends that the disclosure provisions at
issue here are “akin to requiring a newspaper to explain every
decision not to publish any one of a million letters to the editor.”
NetChoice No. 22-555 Br. at 16–17. But newspapers do not
codify their editorial standards in contractual agreements with
those who submit letters to the editor. Nor do they ordinarily
make editorial decisions by mechanical application of anything
resembling terms of service.
27
the information was “factually straightforward,
evenhanded, and readily understood”); Cal.
Chamber of Com. v. Council for Educ. & Rsch. on
Toxics, 29 F.4th 468, 478 (9th Cir. 2022) (required
warning was “controversial because it elevate[d] one
side of a legitimately unresolved scientific debate
about whether eating foods and drinks containing
acrylamide increases the risk of cancer”).
It is true that some grounds for the removal of
content under a platform’s acceptable-use policy
“can be tied in some way to a controversial issue,”
CTIA, 928 F.3d at 845—for example, to hate speech,
harassment, or misinformation. This does not,
however,
render
the
required
disclosures
“controversial.” A factually true statement becomes
controversial only if it requires a speaker to take
sides in a debate and convey a message to which they
are morally, religiously, or ideologically opposed.
NIFLA, 138 S. Ct. at 2372; see also Pacific Gas, 475
U.S. at 15 n.12 (explaining that while states have
“substantial leeway” to impose “appropriate
information disclosure requirements” on businesses,
nothing in Zauderer permits it them to “require
corporations to carry the messages of third parties,
where the messages themselves are biased against
or are expressly contrary to the [business]’s views”).
In NIFLA, for example, California required clinics
whose purpose was to oppose abortion to provide
information about state-sponsored abortion services;
in other words, it forced them to wade into a “heated
political controversy” and convey a message
“fundamentally at odds with [their] mission.” CTIA,
928 F.3d at 845. Texas’s disclosure requirement does
no such thing.
28
Texas’ disclosure requirement also relates to the
terms on which platforms’ services are offered.
Indeed, it relates directly to the platforms’ “terms of
service”—that is, the contract users must agree to
before they can post content. See, e.g., Darnaa, LLC
v. Google, LLC, 756 F. App’x 674, 675 (9th Cir.
2018).19 In these contracts, the platforms agree to
provide users with access to a range of features and
applications, and, in return, users allow the
platforms to collect personal data, grant platforms a
worldwide license to publish their content, and agree
to comply with the platforms’ acceptable-use
policies, which are usually incorporated by
reference.20 Disclosures relating to the terms of
service are, by definition, “about the terms under
which [the] services [at issue] will be available.”
Zauderer, 471 U.S. at 651.
C.
Texas’s individualizedexplanation provision survives
Zauderer scrutiny, but Florida’s
does not.
To survive Zauderer scrutiny, the individualizedexplanation provisions must not be “unjustified or
unduly burdensome.” Id. As noted above, this test
should apply on a sliding scale: The more the
For example, X Corp’s terms of service state: “These
Terms of Service . . . are part of . . . a legally binding contract
governing your use of X.” X Terms of Service, X,
https://perma.cc/2S2L-VPA5.
19
20 See, e.g., id. (incorporating X Corp.’s rules and policies,
including its acceptable-use policy, set forth at
https://perma.cc/JMN2-EGN8).
29
burden, the more substantial the government must
do to justify it. See NIFLA, 138 S. Ct. at 2377
(disclosure should extend “no broader than
reasonably necessary”); Zauderer, 471 U.S. at 651
(holding that “an advertiser’s rights are adequately
protected as long as disclosure requirements are
reasonably related to the State’s interest”). Indeed,
this is precisely how some lower courts have applied
Zauderer’s undue burden standard. See, e.g., Am.
Beverage Ass’n v. City & Cnty. of San Francisco, 916
F.3d 749, 757 (9th Cir. 2019) (holding health
warning “unjustified and unduly burdensome” when
“balanced against its likely burden on protected
speech” (cleaned up)). It is also consistent with the
platforms’ interpretation of that standard.
NetChoice No. 22-555 Br. at 52 (arguing that Texas
“did not even try to demonstrate that its onerous
disclosure rules are not unduly burdensome when
balanced against any legitimate interests they
purport to serve”).
The States have offered little explanation for the
individualized-explanation provisions, but for
purposes of this brief amicus assumes that the
States can show that the requirements are not
“unjustified” because they serve the interest of
platform users in understanding the enforcement of
the platforms’ terms. The question of whether the
provisions impose an “undue burden,” however, is
more complicated. Amicus submits that, at least
based on the record developed so far, Texas’s
provision survives Zauderer scrutiny but that
Florida’s does not.
30
Several important differences between the
Florida and Texas provisions explain why Florida’s
provision unduly burdens speech but Texas’s
provision does not.
First, while the Texas provision requires
platforms to notify users only when their content is
“remove[d],” Tex. Bus. & Com. Code Ann.
§ 120.103(a)(1), the Florida provision requires
platforms to notify users when their content is
“censor[ed],” Fla. Stat. § 501.2041(2)(d)(1), which is
defined broadly to encompass “any action taken” to
“delete, regulate, restrict, edit, alter, inhibit the
publication or republication of, suspend a right to
post, remove, or post an addendum to any content or
material posted by a user.” Id. § 501.2041(1)(b). In
practical terms, the Florida provision requires
notifications in hundreds of millions or even billions
more instances per year than does the Texas
provision.21
Second, while the Texas provision appears to
require a limited notice “explain[ing] the reason the
content was removed,” Tex. Bus. & Com. Code Ann.
§ 120.103(a)(1), the Florida provision requires
platforms to provide “a thorough rationale
explaining the reason that the social media platform
censored the user,” as well as “a precise and
21 For example, from March to October 2020, Facebook alone
added “warning labels” to 180 million pieces of content
associated with the 2020 U.S. elections. Rachel Kraus,
Facebook labeled 180 million posts as ‘false’ since March.
Election misinformation spread anyway, Nov. 19, 2020,
https://perma.cc/8HBA-CUWZ.
31
thorough explanation of how the social media
platform became aware of the censored content or
material, including a thorough explanation of the
algorithms used, if any, to identify or flag the user's
content or material as objectionable.” Fla. Stat. §
501.2041(3). While Texas’s narrower notice
requirement, properly construed, could be
implemented through an automated response
system, it is not at all clear that the same is true of
Florida’s requirement.
Third, the Florida law, unlike the Texas law,
provides users with a private cause of action for
damages if platforms violate the individualizedexplanation provision. Fla. Stat. § 501.2041(6); Tex.
Bus. & Com. Code Ann. § 120.103(b). Under
Florida’s law, users are entitled to statutory
damages of up to $100,000 per violation, actual
damages, and “[i]f aggravating factors are present,
punitive damages.” Fla. Stat. § 501.2041(6).
Florida’s individualized-explanation provision is
likely to chill the platforms’ speech because it
requires platforms to send detailed notices to users
every time they take an action to make a user’s
content less visible, and because it imposes
potentially massive damages liability for violating
these requirements. Moody Pet. App. at 64a–65a (“a
platform could be slapped with millions, or even
billions, of dollars in statutory damages if a Florida
court were to determine that it didn’t provide
sufficiently ‘thorough’ explanations when removing
posts”). There is at least a significant risk that
platforms will feel compelled to alter their content
moderation activities in order to mitigate the risk of
32
liability. The Eleventh Circuit was right to observe
that “[i]t is substantially likely that this massive
potential liability is ‘unduly burdensome’ and would
‘chill[] protected speech’—platforms’ exercise of
editorial judgment—such that [the individualizedexplanation provision] violates platforms’ First
Amendment rights.” Id.
Texas’s individualized-explanation provision, by
contrast, appears to be far less onerous because,
again, it applies only to the removal of content, does
not require any particular level of detail, and is not
backed by potentially enormous damages. And,
again, given the automated way in which the major
platforms identify content that violates their terms,
it is amicus’s understanding that the platforms
could comply with Texas’s limited requirement in an
automated fashion. Indeed, the platforms are
already complying in an automated fashion with a
similar disclosure requirement imposed by the
European Union’s Digital Services Act (DSA), and it
is notable that they do not assert here that this
requirement has had a chilling effect.22 While the
Article 17(1) of the DSA requires platforms to provide
users across the EU with a “clear and specific statement of
reasons” for removing, disabling access to, demoting, or
otherwise restricting the visibility of their content.” Article 17(1)
of Regulation (EU) 2022/2065 of the European Parliament and
of the Council of 19 October 2022 on a Single Market for Digital
Services and amending Directive 2000/31/EC (Digital Services
Act), https://perma.cc/2N37-3L4S. The European Commission
has provided platforms with a standard list of specific but very
basic reasons to use in notices to users, such as “hate speech”
or “human trafficking.” European Commission, DSA
Transparency Database, Explanation of the information held in
22
33
platforms do assert that Texas’s law will compel
them to alter their content-moderation practices,
they do not attribute this to the individualizedexplanation requirement, which is the only
disclosure provision at issue in this case, but rather
to the combination of all of the disclosure
requirements set out on Section 2 of Texas’s law.
NetChoice No. 22-555 Br. at 46–47, 52–53.
CONCLUSION
For the foregoing reasons, amicus respectfully
urges this Court to hold that the must-carry
provisions of the Florida and Texas laws, and the
individualized-explanation provision of the Florida
law,
are
unconstitutional,
but
that
the
individualized-explanation provision of the Texas
law is constitutional under Zauderer.
the DSA Transparency Database, Submission of clear and
specific statements, ¶ 16, https://perma.cc/4VFK-YZQ3.
34
Respectfully submitted,
Scott Wilkens
Counsel of Record
Ramya Krishnan
Alex Abdo
Jameel Jaffer
Knight First Amendment Institute
at Columbia University
475 Riverside Drive, Suite 302
New York, NY 10115
(646) 745-8500
scott.wilkens@knightcolumbia.org
Counsel for Amicus Curiae
December 7, 2023
35
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