Amicus Curiae Brief — Okello T. Chatrie, Petitioner v. United States
Supreme Court briefMar 9, 2026
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No. 25-112
In the Supreme Court of the United States
______________
OKELLO T. CHATRIE,
Petitioner
v.
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA,
Respondent
______________
On Writ of Certiorari to the United States Court of
Appeals for the Fourth Circuit
BRIEF AMICUS CURIAE OF
THE AMERICAN CENTER FOR LAW AND JUSTICE
IN SUPPORT OF NEITHER PARTY
JAY ALAN SEKULOW
Counsel of Record
JORDAN A. SEKULOW
STUART J. ROTH
ANDREW J. EKONOMOU
GEOFFREY R. SURTEES
NATHAN J. MOELKER
LIAM R. HARRELL
AMERICAN CENTER
FOR LAW & JUSTICE
201 Maryland Ave., NE
Washington, DC 20002
(202) 546-8890
sekulow@aclj.org
Counsel for Amicus Curiae
i
TABLE OF CONTENTS
TABLE OF AUTHORITIES .............................. iii
INTEREST OF AMICUS ..................................... 1
SUMMARY OF ARGUMENT ............................. 2
ARGUMENT ......................................................... 4
I. THE FOURTH AMENDMENT PROTECTS
PROPERTY RIGHTS, NOT MERELY
PRIVACY EXPECTATIONS........................... 4
A. The
“Expectation
of
Privacy”
Framework Has Untethered Fourth
Amendment Doctrine from Its
Constitutional Moorings ............................ 5
B. Location History is Property of Users ...... 10
C. A Property-Based Analysis Resolves
This Case Without Recourse to
Amorphous Balancing .............................. 12
D. Google’s “Clickwrap” Agreements
Cannot Establish the Voluntary
Disclosure Required to Invoke the
Third-Party Doctrine. .............................. 13
II. GEOFENCE WARRANTS PRESENT
SERIOUS PARTICULARITY DANGERS
THAT DEMAND A CLEAR
CONSTITUTIONAL FRAMEWORK .......... 20
A. General Warrants Were the Chief
Evil the Fourth Amendment Was
Designed to Prevent ................................. 20
ii
B. Geofence Warrants Pose Serious
Dangers of Becoming General
Warrants in Digital Form. ....................... 22
CONCLUSION .................................................... 25
iii
TABLE OF AUTHORITIES
Cases .............................................................Page(s)
Airbnb, Inc. v. Doe,
336 So. 3d 698 (Fla. 2022) .................................... 16
Bazemore v. Jefferson Cap. Sys., LLC,
827 F.3d 1325 (11th Cir. 2016) ............................ 17
Berkson v. Gogo LLC, 97 F. Supp. 3d 359
(E.D.N.Y. 2015) ..................................................... 17
Berman v. Freedom Fin. Network, LLC,
30 F.4th 849 (9th Cir. 2022) ................................. 17
Carpenter v. United States,
585 U.S. 296 (2018) ......................... 4-11, 13, 15, 22
Coolidge v. New Hampshire,
403 U.S. 443 (1971) ........................................ 22, 23
Cullinane v. Uber Techs., Inc.,
893 F.3d 53 (1st Cir. 2018) ................................... 17
Ex parte Jackson,
96 U.S. 727 (1878) ........................................ 3, 9, 10
Hosanna-Tabor Evangelical Lutheran Church &
Sch. v. EEOC, 565 U.S. 171 (2012) ........................ 1
In re Zappos.com, Inc.,
893 F. Supp. 2d 1058 (D. Nev. 2012) ................... 17
iv
Katz v. United States,
389 U.S. 347 (1967) .............................2, 4, 6, 13, 18
Kyllo v. United States,
533 U.S. 27 (2001) .................................................. 4
Lamb’s Chapel v. Center Moriches Sch. Dist., 508
U.S. 384 (1993) ....................................................... 1
Marron v. United States,
275 U.S. 192 (1927) .............................................. 22
Marshall v. Georgetown Mem’l Hosp.,
112 F.4th 211 (4th Cir. 2024) ............................... 17
McConnell v. FEC,
540 U.S. 93 (2003) .................................................. 1
Minnesota v. Carter,
525 U.S. 83 (1998) .................................................. 6
Nieves v. Bartlett,
587 U.S. 391 (2019) .............................................. 21
Pleasant Grove City v. Summum,
555 U.S. 460 (2009) ................................................ 1
Riley v. California,
573 U.S. 373 (2014) .......................................... 2, 21
Smith v. Maryland,
442 U.S. 735 (1979) .........................7, 13, 15, 18, 19
v
Soldal v. Cook County,
506 U.S. 56 (1992) .................................................. 9
Specht v. Netscape Communs. Corp.,
306 F.3d 17 (2d Cir. 2002) .................................... 17
Stanford v. Texas,
379 U.S. 476 (1965) .............................................. 20
State of Washington v. Kealey,
907 P.2d 319 (Wash. Ct. App. 1995) .................... 16
Trump v. Anderson,
601 U.S. 100 (2024) ................................................ 1
United States v. Graham,
824 F.3d 421 (4th Cir. 2016) ................................ 16
United States v. Jones,
565 U.S. 400 (2012) ............................................ 8, 9
United States v. Miller,
425 U.S. 435 (1976) .................................... 7, 15, 19
United States v. Smith,
110 F.4th 817 (5th Cir. 2024) ...................... 2, 22-24
Constitutional Provisions
U.S. CONST. amend. IV ............................2, 4, 8, 21, 23
Other Authorities
10 Works of John Adams (C. Adams ed. 1856) ....... 21
vi
8 C.J.S. Bailments § 28 (1988) ................................. 11
Harvey Silverglate, Three Felonies a Day: How the
Feds Target the Innocent (2011) ........................... 21
James C. Hoye, Click—Do We Have a Deal?, 6
SUFFOLK J. TRIAL & APP. ADVOC. 163 (2001) ....... 14
Nancy S. Kim, Wrap Contracts: Foundations and
Ramifications (2013) ............................................ 14
Orin S. Kerr, The Case for the Third-Party Doctrine,
107 MICH. L. REV. 561 (2009) ........................... 8, 16
William Baude & James Y. Stern, The Positive Law
Model of the Fourth Amendment, 129 HARV. L.
REV. 1821 (2016) ..................................................... 8
1
INTEREST OF AMICUS 1
The American Center for Law and Justice
(“ACLJ”) is an organization dedicated to the defense
of constitutional liberties secured by law. ACLJ
attorneys have appeared often before this Court as
counsel for parties, e.g., Trump v. Anderson, 601 U.S.
100 (2024); McConnell v. FEC, 540 U.S. 93 (2003);
Pleasant Grove City v. Summum, 555 U.S. 460 (2009);
Lamb’s Chapel v. Center Moriches Sch. Dist., 508 U.S.
384 (1993); or for amicus, e.g., Hosanna-Tabor
Evangelical Lutheran Church & Sch. v. EEOC, 565
U.S. 171 (2012). The ACLJ has a substantial interest
in this case because it presents foundational
questions about the scope of constitutional
protections in the digital age.
1 Pursuant to Supreme Court Rule 37.6, amicus curiae states
that no counsel for any party authored this brief in whole or in
part, and no entity or person, aside from amicus curiae, its
members, and its counsel, made any monetary contribution
toward the preparation or submission of this brief.
2
SUMMARY OF ARGUMENT
Just over a decade ago, this Court noted that “[o]ne
of the most notable distinguishing features of modern
cell phones is their immense storage capacity.” Riley
v. California, 573 U.S. 373, 393 (2014). In the years
since, more and more of the “digital record of nearly
every aspect of [Americans’] lives,” id., at 395 is kept,
not on the phone itself, but on remote servers, such as
Google’s
Location
Data
History
repository,
“Sensorvault.” United States v. Smith, 110 F.4th 817,
823 (5th Cir. 2024). The collection of so much location
data opened up a novel police investigatory approach:
rather than identify a suspect and search his
information, search the location to identify those
present. Such a search of Sensorvault for location
data is the first step of a three-step process
culminating in the identification of a particular
account’s owner.
This case involves that first step, asking first
whether a location data search is a search, and
second, whether a warrant compelling Google to
complete that search is sufficient under the Fourth
Amendment.
First, a search certainly occurred. The Fourth
Amendment’s text protects the people’s right “to be
secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects,
against unreasonable searches and seizures.” U.S.
CONST. amend. IV. That language provides
categorical protection for what belongs to a person.
Yet for decades, Fourth Amendment doctrine has
instead been governed by the privacy expectations
rationale attributed (falsely, see infra pp. 6-7) to Katz
v. United States, 389 U.S. 347 (1967), as well as its
3
progeny
exempting
third-party
searches—a
framework untethered from constitutional text and
history. The solution lies in the Amendment’s text.
The traditional approach asked whether a house,
paper, or effect was yours under law. If so, Fourth
Amendment protection followed. In Ex parte Jackson,
this Court held that sealed letters in the mail were
protected “wherever they may be”—even though
entrusted to a third party. 96 U.S. 727, 733 (1878). The
same principle applies to digital records in
Sensorvault. Google Location History is the user’s
property as explained further below. When the
Government compelled Google to search this data, it
searched the Petitioner’s “papers” and “effects.” Even
applying the third-party exemption doctrine fails,
since users did not voluntarily and knowingly disclose
their Location History within the meaning of that
doctrine.
Second, even under Katz, geofence warrants
threaten the particularity requirement of the Fourth
Amendment. These warrants are general warrants in
digital form—the very evil the Fourth Amendment
was designed to prevent. The particularity
requirement serves twin purposes: ensuring neutral
magistrates, not officers, control the scope of
searches, and protecting the innocent from
exploratory rummaging. Geofence warrants run
against both objectives. They draw a virtual fence
around a location and direct the service provider to
search 592 million individual accounts to identify
which fall within it. This sort of general warrant is
precisely what the Fourth Amendment prohibits.
Location data “provides an intimate window into a
4
person’s life, revealing not only his particular
movements, but through them his familial, political,
professional, religious, and sexual associations.”
Carpenter v. United States, 585 U.S. 296, 311 (2018)
(internal citation omitted). With all this accessible at
just the click of a button, meaningful limits on the
discretion of law enforcement become even more
essential. The Fourth Amendment provides those
limits. This Court should enforce them.
ARGUMENT
I.
THE FOURTH AMENDMENT PROTECTS
PROPERTY RIGHTS, NOT MERELY
PRIVACY EXPECTATIONS.
The Fourth Amendment protects “the right of the
people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers,
and effects, against unreasonable searches and
seizures.” U.S. CONST. amend. IV. The Constitution’s
language provides categorical protection for all things
in which persons have a legal property interest. The
“Fourth Amendment protects people, not places.”
Katz, 389 U.S. at 351. This Court in Carpenter
confirmed precisely this point, sustaining a Fourth
Amendment challenge to government seizure of
digital location records and recognizing that the
Court must “assure[] preservation of that degree of
privacy against government that existed when the
Fourth Amendment was adopted.” Carpenter, 585
U.S. at 306 (quoting Kyllo v. United States, 533 U.S.
27, 34 (2001)). Justice Gorsuch’s separate opinion
(dissenting as to the judgment but more of a
concurrence on the existence of a Fourth Amendment
violation) elaborated the textual foundation for this
5
conclusion more fully: “Under its plain terms, the
Amendment grants you the right to invoke its
guarantees whenever one of your protected things
(your person, your house, your papers, or your effects)
is unreasonably searched or seized. Period.” Id. at 391
(Gorsuch, J., dissenting).
A. The
“Expectation
of
Privacy”
Framework Has Untethered Fourth
Amendment
Doctrine
from
Its
Constitutional Moorings.
The nine separate opinions filed by fourteen
Fourth Circuit judges in this case powerfully
demonstrate the unworkability of the “reasonable
expectation of privacy” test. Some judges concluded a
search occurred, others that it did not. Even among
those who found no search, there was no agreement
about why. This cacophony reflects an inherent flaw
in the “expectation of privacy” framework. As Justice
Thomas explained in Carpenter, the reasonableexpectation-of-privacy test “has no basis in the text or
history of the Fourth Amendment.” Id. at 343
(Thomas, J., dissenting).
The Carpenter Court declined to extend the thirdparty exemption cases of Smith and Miller, infra p. 7,
to the digital age, recognizing that such an extension
would leave individuals with no Fourth Amendment
protection in “an intimate window into [their]
personal li[ves].” Carpenter, 585 U.S. at 311, 316. The
separate
opinions
further
illuminated
the
“expectation of privacy” framework’s structural
weaknesses. As Justice Gorsuch noted, “Katz has
yielded an often unpredictable—and sometimes
unbelievable—jurisprudence.” Id. at 394 (Gorsuch, J.,
6
dissenting). The test misconstrues virtually every
word of the Fourth Amendment. It focuses on
“privacy” when the text speaks of being “secure.” It
asks about “expectations” when the text protects
objective things: property interests in “persons,
houses, papers, and effects.” And it invites judges to
make sociological judgments about what society is
prepared to recognize as reasonable—an inquiry
untethered from law or history. It offers “no plausible
foundation in the text of the Fourth Amendment” and
provides no meaningful guidance to law enforcement,
magistrates, or lower courts. Id. at 346 (Thomas, J.,
dissenting) (quoting Minnesota v. Carter, 525 U.S. 83,
97 (1998) (opinion of Scalia, J.)).
Curiously, Katz itself never said that the proper
Fourth Amendment test looks to one’s “reasonable
expectation of privacy.” To the contrary, the Katz
Court explicitly declared that Fourth Amendment
“protections go further [than intrusion on privacy],
and often have nothing to do with privacy at all.” 389
U.S. at 350 (emphasis added). The turn of phrase Katz
is best known for actually comes, not from the
majority (which, if anything, said the opposite), but
from Justice Harlan’s separate concurrence, 389 U.S.
at 360. Katz itself properly held that the Fourth
Amendment protects a person’s private phone calls,
regardless of the fact that the calls were made in a
public place (a phone booth), 389 U.S. at 348, and
there was no “physical penetration” of Katz’s location,
id. at 352, and, of course, Katz did not own the phone,
phone lines, or receiver at the other end. His
messages traversed the property of third parties. The
Katz Court nevertheless found a Fourth Amendment
violation. Thus, it is the (misbegotten) ghost of Katz,
7
and not Katz itself, which has spread abroad the
“expectation of privacy” test.
This case illustrates one of the most glaring
problems with the “ghost of Katz” test. This Court has
held that individuals have no Fourth Amendment
interests in business records that are possessed,
owned, and controlled by a third party. United States
v. Miller, 425 U.S. 435 (1976); Smith v. Maryland, 442
U.S. 735 (1979) (superseded by statute). These
decisions were fundamentally premised on the
Court’s use of a “reasonable expectation of privacy”
test without any application of the actual history and
text of the Fourth Amendment. Katz, of course, itself
found a Fourth Amendment violation despite the fact
that the phone booth, phone lines, and receiver at the
other end were all owned and controlled by third
parties. The Carpenter majority similarly declined to
extend the third-party exemption doctrine to digital
location data precisely because doing so would give
the government virtually unrestricted access to “a
detailed chronicle of a person’s physical presence
compiled every day, every moment, over several
years.” Carpenter, 585 U.S. at 315. “Such a chronicle
implicates privacy concerns far beyond those
considered in Smith and Miller.” Id.
As Justice Gorsuch asked,
What’s left of the Fourth Amendment? Today we
use the Internet to do most everything. . . Countless
Internet companies maintain records about us and,
increasingly, for us. Even our most private
documents—those that, in other eras, we would
have locked safely in a desk drawer or destroyed—
now reside on third party servers. Smith and Miller
8
teach that the police can review all of this
material[.]
Carpenter, 585 U.S. at 387 (Gorsuch, J., dissenting).
Justice Gorsuch has thoroughly unpacked the
deep-rooted problems with the third-party doctrine:
“countless scholars, too, have come to conclude that
the ‘third-party doctrine is not only wrong, but
horribly wrong.’” Carpenter, 585 U.S. at 388-389
(quoting Orin S. Kerr, The Case for the Third-Party
Doctrine, 107 MICH. L. REV. 561, 563, n. 5, 564 (2009)).
It is “quite dubious.” Id. at 389 (quoting William
Baude & James Y. Stern, The Positive Law Model of
the Fourth Amendment, 129 HARV. L. REV. 1821, 1872
(2016)). Justice Gorsuch highlights how broadly the
third-party doctrine sweeps and the practical
implications of the doctrine: “In the end, what do
Smith and Miller add up to? A doubtful application of
Katz that lets the government search almost
whatever it wants whenever it wants.” Id. at 391.
The solution to this overbreadth lies in returning
to a more plain and direct understanding of the
Fourth Amendment. The text of the Fourth
Amendment protects “[t]he right of the people to be
secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects,”
U.S. CONST. amend. IV (emphasis added), not abstract
protections of “expectations.” And when intrusion
becomes normalized or expected, and surveillance
becomes common, then that should not justify further
intrusions on protected constitutional rights. The
Carpenter majority confirmed that Katz did not
replace the common-law property framework but
rather added to it. Carpenter, 585 U.S. at 304 (citing
United States v. Jones, 565 U.S. 400, 405, 406-07
9
(2012)). “[T]he traditional approach asked if a house,
paper, or effect was yours under law. No more was
needed to trigger the Fourth Amendment.” Carpenter,
585 U.S. at 397-98 (Gorsuch, J., dissenting);
Soldal v. Cook County, 506 U.S. 56, 64 (1992)
(Katz did not “snuf[f] out the previously recognized
protection for property under the Fourth
Amendment”).
When this Court applied the traditional
understanding of the Fourth Amendment before Katz,
the results in “third party” cases were far different.
“Miller and Smith may not apply when the
Government obtains the modern-day equivalents of
an individual’s own ‘papers’ or ‘effects,’ even when
those papers or effects are held by a third party.”
Carpenter, 585 U.S. at 332. In Ex parte Jackson, 96
U.S. 727 (1878), this Court held that sealed letters
placed in the mail were protected because “[t]he
constitutional guaranty of the right of the people to be
secure in their papers against unreasonable searches
and seizures extends to their papers, thus closed
against inspection, wherever they may be.” Id. at 732
(emphasis added). It did not matter that letters were
entrusted to the government via a bailment. The
sender enjoyed the same Fourth Amendment
protection as he does “when papers are subjected to
search in one’s own household.” Id. This Court’s
conclusion was clear and emphatic:
No law of Congress can place in the hands of
officials connected with the postal service any
authority to invade the secrecy of letters and such
sealed packages in the mail; and all regulations
adopted as to mail matter of this kind must be in
10
subordination to the great principle embodied in
the fourth amendment of the Constitution.”
Id.
As this Court held in Carpenter, digital sharing
does not automatically forfeit Fourth Amendment
rights — the fact that “information is gathered by a
third party does not make it any less deserving of
Fourth Amendment protection.” Carpenter, 585 U.S.
at 320. No one forfeits property interests or Fourth
Amendment rights simply by entrusting their
property to a third party.
B. Location History is Property of Users.
Unlike the cell-site location information at issue in
Carpenter, location history is not a business record
created and maintained by Google for its own
purposes. It is user-generated data that Google
collects and stores on behalf of users, subject to the
users’ control. The legal relationship is one of
bailment, not ownership.
Google’s privacy policy confirms this point. The
policy consistently refers to Location History as “your
information” and “your data.” Users can enable or
disable Location History at will. They can delete their
Location History at any time. They can export it. They
control it. The individualized Location History
associated with a particular user’s account is that
user’s property, held by Google as a bailee.
The Carpenter majority drew this line itself,
distinguishing Miller and Smith—which involved
records created by institutions for their own business
purposes—from location data generated incidentally
in the course of using a device. 585 U.S. at 314. Justice
11
Gorsuch’s dissent translated this same distinction
into common-law property terms, recognizing that
entrusted data is held by a bailee, not surrendered to
an owner. He noted that when records are “entrusted”
to a third party, the Fourth Amendment’s protection
does not necessarily lapse. 585 U.S. at 399 (Gorsuch,
J., dissenting). “Entrusting your stuff to others is a
bailment” under common law, and a “bailee normally
owes a legal duty to keep the item safe” according to
the terms of the parties’ agreement. Id. These
“ancient principles” protect individuals’ interests
even in records held by a third party. Id. at 400.
Location History fits comfortably within this
framework. When people enable Location History,
they do not surrender ownership of the data to Google.
They authorize Google to collect and store it on their
behalf, subject to their continuing control. The
relationship is analogous to storing personal papers
in a safe deposit box or personal files on a cloud
server. The bank or service provider may physically
possess the items, but they remain the customer’s
property. A warrant to search those items is a search
of the customer’s effects, not the service provider’s
business records.
This analysis finds strong support in the common
law of bailment. See id. At common law, the bailee
holds the goods on behalf of the bailor and owes the
bailor duties of care and return. Critically, the bailor
retains ownership of the bailed property. 8
C.J.S. Bailments § 28 (1988). The bailee’s possession
is derivative and limited by the terms of the bailment.
See Carpenter, 585 U.S. at 399 (Gorsuch, J.,
dissenting) (quoting 8 C.J.S., Bailments § 36, pp. 468-
12
469 (2017)).
That is precisely the relationship between users
and Google with respect to Location History. Users
retain ownership of their location data. Google’s
possession is derivative—it exists only because users
have authorized Google to collect and store the data.
And Google’s rights to use that data are limited by the
terms of service, which give users the power to disable
collection, delete stored data, and export their
information. Granting Google limited usage of the
data cannot be understood as a wholesale waiver of
one’s constitutional right against an unreasonable
search.
C. A Property-Based Analysis Resolves
This
Case
Without
Recourse
to
Amorphous Balancing.
Once Location History is recognized as belonging
to the user, the constitutional analysis becomes
straightforward. When the Government compels
Google to search a user’s Location History, it searches
the user’s “papers” and “effects” within the meaning
of the Fourth Amendment. A property-based
approach provides clear guidance to law enforcement,
magistrates, and courts. There is no need to engage in
multi-factor balancing or to make sociological
predictions about societal expectations. The question
is simply whether the item searched belongs to the
person claiming Fourth Amendment protection. If it
does, the search requires a warrant supported by
probable cause, subject to established exceptions.
Moreover, a property-based approach avoids the
third-party doctrine’s most troubling implications.
13
Under the Smith and Miller framework, sharing
information with anyone—even for limited purposes
and subject to contractual restrictions—can result in
forfeiture of Fourth Amendment protection. This
creates perverse incentives: it discourages beneficial
data-sharing and forces individuals to choose between
using modern technology and preserving their
constitutional rights.
A property-based approach eliminates this
dilemma. “When confronting new concerns wrought
by digital technology, this Court has been careful not
to uncritically extend existing precedents.” Carpenter,
585 U.S. at 318. Sharing property with a bailee does
not forfeit ownership. Storing papers in a bank vault
does not make them the bank’s papers. Uploading
files to a cloud server does not transfer ownership to
the server operator. The same should be true for
Location History: entrusting it to Google for
safekeeping does not strip people of their Fourth
Amendment protection in that data.
D. Google’s
“Clickwrap”
Agreements
Cannot
Establish
the
Voluntary
Disclosure Required to Invoke the
Third-Party Doctrine.
Moreover, the third-party doctrine forfeits Fourth
Amendment protection only where an individual
knowingly and voluntarily exposes information to a
third party, thereby assuming the risk of government
access. Smith, 442 U.S. at 743-44 (“[A] person has no
legitimate expectation of privacy in information he
voluntarily turns over to third parties.”) (emphasis
added). See also Katz, 389 U.S. at 351 (“What a person
14
knowingly exposes to the public . . . is not a subject
of Fourth Amendment protection”) (emphasis added).
The government’s theory depends entirely on the
premise that users who click through Google’s setup
screens have voluntarily disclosed and forfeited their
location data within the meaning of that doctrine. But
that premise fails at every level. Google’s “clickwrap” 2
agreements
neither
satisfy
the
contractual
requirements courts demand for genuine assent nor
establish the informed, purposeful exposure that Katz
and its progeny require before a constitutional
privacy interest may be deemed surrendered. Where
consent is illusory as a matter of contract law, it
cannot carry the far heavier constitutional burden the
government asks this Court to place upon it.
As articulated by this Court, the third-party
disclosure doctrine holds that individuals forfeit their
reasonable expectation of privacy in information they
voluntarily convey or knowingly expose to third
parties, thereby allowing government access without
a warrant; but this exception applies only when the
2 “Clickwrap” agreements are a form of adhesion agreements in
which “the adhering party does not have to use a pen,” but rather
clicks on some electronic icon. Nancy S. Kim, Wrap Contracts:
Foundations and Ramifications 3 (2013) (There are other “wrap”
agreements, like “browsewrap,” “scrollwrap,” etc., named from
the action required.) The unusual names stem from
“shrinkwrap” agreements, in which physically packaged
software contained agreements to which an offeree supposedly
agreed by merely tearing the cellophane packaging. James C.
Hoye, Click—Do We Have a Deal?, 6 SUFFOLK J. TRIAL & APP.
ADVOC. 163, 165 n.16 (2001).
15
disclosure is purposeful and informed, not compelled
by necessity or inadvertent. See Miller, 425 U.S. at
442-43 (no Fourth Amendment protection for bank
records because defendant “voluntarily conveyed”
financial information to the bank and “exposed” it to
employees in the ordinary course of business,
assuming the risk of further disclosure); Smith, 442
U.S. at 743-44 (no privacy expectation in dialed phone
numbers as petitioner “voluntarily conveyed
numerical information to the telephone company” via
automated systems, knowingly exposing it despite
subjective beliefs in confidentiality).
Recent decisions have narrowed the doctrine’s
scope, further underscoring that it does not apply
absent true voluntariness, particularly in digital
contexts where data sharing is often compelled by
modern life. Most importantly, this Court held in
Carpenter that the third-party doctrine does not apply
to digital location records. The Court rejected the
government’s third-party doctrine argument because
cell-site location information is not “truly ‘shared’ as
one normally understands the term,” 585 U.S. at 315,
and is instead generated automatically “without any
affirmative act on the part of the user” beyond simply
carrying a phone. The Court distinguished this from
the “purposeful disclosures” in Miller and Smith.
Lower courts, state courts, and scholars have
reinforced that the doctrine demands purposeful
cession of privacy, invalidating its application to
involuntary or unknowing disclosures, such as
16
automated metadata generation. See, e.g., State of
Washington v. Kealey, 907 P.2d 319 (Wash. Ct. App.
1995) (holding that defendant maintained a privacy
interest, albeit diminished, in forgotten, zipped
purse); United States v. Graham, 824 F.3d 421, 430
(4th Cir. 2016) (en banc) (pre-Carpenter CSLI case
focusing on how defendant “thus voluntarily conveys
the information necessary” to create CSLI); Orin S.
Kerr, The Case for the Third-Party Doctrine, 107
MICH. L. REV. 561, 575 (2009) (emphasizing
“voluntary” exposure as doctrinal core, excluding
compelled or unwitting transfers). Thus, the thirdparty doctrine applies solely when an individual
knowingly and purposefully cedes control over private
information to a third party, assuming the risk of
government access, and does not extend to incidental,
automatic, or coerced conveyances that lack such
intent.
Clickwrap agreements, a form of electronic
adhesion contract where users manifest assent by
clicking a button or checkbox (e.g., “I agree”) after
being presented with terms, can be enforceable when
they provide reasonable notice of the terms and
require affirmative user consent, as courts evaluate
them based on traditional principles of offer,
acceptance, and mutual assent. See, e.g., Airbnb, Inc.
v. Doe, 336 So. 3d 698 (Fla. 2022). However, when
“consumers are urged to download free software at
the immediate click of a button,” courts give more
scrutiny to whether an offeree has actually
manifested any assent to the contract, usually by
17
focusing on the user experience leading up to the
“click” at issue. Specht v. Netscape Communs. Corp.,
306 F.3d 17, 31 (2d Cir. 2002) (Sotomayor, J.). Courts
have repeatedly refused to enforce clickwrap
agreements where the terms are not conspicuously
presented, lack meaningful opportunity for review, or
fail to secure genuine consent. Cullinane v. Uber
Techs., Inc., 893 F.3d 53 (1st Cir. 2018) (holding that
offerees were not reasonably notified of an arbitration
agreement in clickwrap); Marshall v. Georgetown
Mem’l Hosp., 112 F.4th 211 (4th Cir. 2024); Berman
v. Freedom Fin. Network, LLC, 30 F.4th 849 (9th Cir.
2022); Bazemore v. Jefferson Cap. Sys., LLC, 827 F.3d
1325 (11th Cir. 2016). Buried hyperlinks, small font,
or confusing interfaces all weigh against a clickwrap’s
enforceability. See, e.g., Berkson v. Gogo LLC, 97 F.
Supp. 3d 359, 397-401 (E.D.N.Y. 2015) (refusing
enforcement when hyperlinks to terms were
inconspicuous compared to “sign-in” button); In re
Zappos.com, Inc., 893 F. Supp. 2d 1058, 1064 (D. Nev.
2012)
(terms
unenforceable
when
placed
inconspicuously at bottom of page). As adhesion
contracts (at best), courts similarly are quick to strike
unconscionable portions, particularly when presented
during mandatory device setup, or when an app
presents persistent prompts, creating illusory choice
rather than informed consent.
Here, Google’s Location History clickwrap fails on
precisely the grounds courts have found dispositive.
Like the buried hyperlinks condemned in Berkson and
the inconspicuous footer terms struck in In re
18
Zappos.com, Google’s privacy disclosures are
embedded within layered, dense terms of service that
no reasonable user meaningfully reviews before
clicking through. The “affirmative” act of enabling
Location History—whether during initial device
setup or through persistent app prompts—mirrors
the coercive dynamic courts have identified as
producing illusory rather than genuine consent.
Where the user experience fails to secure reasonable
notice and genuine assent, the clickwrap cannot be
said to reflect voluntary disclosure, a prerequisite
assumed in Smith v. Maryland.
Even a user who reads and understands that
Google collects location data for purposes of
navigation, personalization, or targeted advertising
has not thereby consented to the creation and
indefinite retention of a granular, retrospective
record precise enough to place them at a specific
location at a specific moment in time—the sort of
record at issue here and necessary for a geofence
warrant. There is a profound difference of degree
between knowing that a tech company “uses your
location” and understanding that it is silently
building a permanent, timestamped archive of your
movements that law enforcement may later subpoena
to reconstruct your whereabouts on any given day. No
reasonable reading of Google’s clickwrap disclosures
(assuming they are read at all) would put an ordinary
user on notice of that latter reality.
Under Katz, only what a person “knowingly
19
exposes” falls outside constitutional protection. A
user who clicks through a setup screen to enable maps
and weather notifications has not knowingly exposed
a detailed location history suitable for forensic use by
the government. The fiction of consent manufactured
by an adhesion contract presented during mandatory
device setup cannot bear the constitutional weight the
government asks this Court to place upon it.
And if the clickwrap cannot establish voluntary
disclosure as a matter of contract law, it certainly
cannot establish the knowing, voluntary exposure
required to forfeit Fourth Amendment rights under
Smith and Miller. The government cannot
simultaneously argue that Google’s terms are
enforceable enough to eliminate a privacy interest
while the very courts tasked with enforcing those
terms would find them wanting.
Accordingly, even if this Court were to apply the
third-party doctrine, it could not find that individuals
voluntarily relinquished their Fourth Amendment
interest in their Location History data. The clickwrap
mechanism through which Google purports to obtain
user consent fails to satisfy the knowing, voluntary
exposure required under Katz and Smith to forfeit
constitutional protection. A user who clicks through
device setup screens may understand, at most, that
Google will use their location for everyday app
functions, not that Google is constructing a
permanent,
forensic-grade
archive
of
their
movements available to law enforcement on demand.
20
Individuals have never meaningfully consented to
share data in that form or for that purpose.
II. GEOFENCE WARRANTS PRESENT
SERIOUS PARTICULARITY DANGERS
THAT DEMAND A CLEAR
CONSTITUTIONAL FRAMEWORK.
The government’s use of geofence warrants is a
recent and rapidly spreading investigative technique.
Lower courts have divided sharply on its
constitutionality, and the absence of clear guidance
from this Court has left magistrates without
meaningful standards for evaluating warrant
applications. It has left law enforcement without
reliable guidance about what will pass constitutional
muster, and ordinary citizens without effective
protection against sweeping digital dragnets. This
Court should carefully scrutinize such warrants.
A. General Warrants Were the Chief Evil
the Fourth Amendment Was Designed to
Prevent.
The
Fourth
Amendment’s
particularity
requirement has deep historical roots. This Court has
emphasized that “it would be a needless exercise in
pedantry to review again the detailed history of the
use of general warrants as instruments of oppression
from the time of the Tudors, through the Star
Chamber, the Long Parliament, the Restoration, and
beyond.” Stanford v. Texas, 379 U.S. 476, 482 (1965).
As John Adams recalled, James Otis’s 1761 speech
condemning writs of assistance, which are broad and
generic warrants, “was the first act of opposition to
the arbitrary claims of Great Britain” and “[t]hen and
21
there the child Independence was born.” Riley v.
California, 573 U.S. 373, 403 (2014) (quoting 10
Works of John Adams 247-248 (C. Adams ed. 1856)).
In fact, general warrants were particularly
pernicious because they specified an offense but
allowed officers discretion to determine which persons
to search and which places to examine. They lacked
the particularity that the Fourth Amendment now
demands: warrants must “particularly describ[e] the
place to be searched, and the persons or things to be
seized.” U.S. CONST. amend. IV.
This particularity requirement serves two critical
functions. First, it ensures that magistrates, not
officers, determine the scope of a search. The point of
the Fourth Amendment is to interpose a magistrate
between the police and the people. Second,
particularity protects the innocent. By requiring the
government to describe with particularity what it
seeks, the Amendment prevents officers from
conducting exploratory rummaging in a person’s
belongings in hopes of finding evidence of some crime.
(And, given the extreme proliferation of new crimes,
who could hope not to be found guilty of something?
See Harvey Silverglate, Three Felonies a Day: How the
Feds Target the Innocent (2011); Nieves v. Bartlett,
587 U.S. 391, 412 (2019) (Gorsuch, J., dissenting) (“In
our own time and place, criminal laws have grown so
exuberantly and come to cover so much previously
innocent conduct that almost anyone can be arrested
for something.”)).
These principles apply with full force in the digital
age. As the Fifth Circuit recognized, the fact that
modern general warrants are executed via digital
22
search of a database rather than physical search of a
home does not change their character. Smith, 110
F.4th at 837. If anything, the ease and efficiency of
digital searches make the particularity requirement
more important, not less. When officers can search
hundreds of millions of records “with just the click of
a button,” Carpenter, 585 U.S. at 311, the need for
meaningful limits on their discretion becomes acute.
B. Geofence
Warrants
Pose
Serious
Dangers of Becoming General Warrants
in Digital Form.
The standard of particularity regarding the items
to be seized requires that the description leave
nothing to the discretion of the officers. See Marron v.
United States, 275 U.S. 192, 196 (1927). The
particularity requirement exists to ensure that a
neutral magistrate—not the investigating officer—
defines the scope of a search before it occurs. See
Coolidge v. New Hampshire, 403 U.S. 443, 467 (1971).
Geofence warrants create structural pressures
against both of those purposes.
Geofence warrants direct a service provider to
search through hundreds of millions of user accounts
to identify those whose devices were in a particular
geographic area at a particular time. They do not
identify any particular suspect. They simply draw a
virtual fence around a location and direct the service
provider to report back which accounts fall within it.
As the Fifth Circuit explained, this process
requires the service provider to “search through the
entirety of its Sensorvault—all 592 million individual
accounts—for all of their locations at a given point in
23
time.” Smith, 110 F.4th at 837. “Moreover, this search
is occurring while law enforcement officials have no
idea who they are looking for, or whether the search
will even turn up a result.” Id. “Indeed, the
quintessential problem with these warrants is that
they never include a specific user to be identified, only
a temporal and geographic location where any given
user may turn up post-search.” Id. Every American
with a Google Account is searched every time such a
warrant is issued. One can imagine John Adams’s
reaction to a warrant including millions. When a
geofence warrant is issued, the place actually
searched is Google’s entire Sensorvault: millions of
accounts on Google’s servers, wherever those servers
sit.
Just as colonial general warrants authorized
officers to search any home where evidence might be
found, geofence warrants authorize service providers
to search any account that might contain relevant
information. The only limit is geographic and
temporal—not based on individualized suspicion of
any particular person. This reflects “the exact sort of
‘general, exploratory rummaging’ that the Fourth
Amendment was designed to prevent.” Smith, 110
F.4th at 837 (quoting Coolidge, 403 U.S. at 467).
The Fourth Amendment requires particularity as
to “the persons or things to be seized,” not merely the
place to be searched. U.S. CONST. amend. IV. A
warrant that authorizes searching every house on a
city block for evidence of a crime would violate the
particularity requirement, even if the geographic area
is precisely described, because it fails to define any
particular criminal individual or object. The same is
24
true for digital searches. A warrant that instructs a
service provider to search hundreds of millions of
accounts and report back merely which ones fall
within a geographic fence does not describe the things
to be seized—it defines the things to be seized as the
output of a general search. That inverts the
constitutional requirement. At minimum, a valid
geofence warrant would describe the category of data
to be produced, the time window with specificity
sufficient to limit the search, and the criteria—
beyond mere geographic presence—that would
establish relevance to the alleged offense.
Without careful and defined limits, geofence
warrants do not describe with particularity what is to
be seized. Instead, they authorize a fishing (or
trawling) expedition: search all the accounts and
report back which ones contain potentially relevant
information. That is not a thing described with
particularity; it is the definition of an exploratory
rummaging. “These geofence warrants fail at Step 1—
they allow law enforcement to rummage through
troves of location data from hundreds of millions of
Google users without any description of the particular
suspect or suspects to be found.” Smith, 110 F.4th at
837-838. This is the very definition of a general
warrant. Carefully defined guardrails are necessary
to hold geofence warrants to the specificity standard.
25
CONCLUSION
This Court should reverse the decision below.
Respectfully submitted,
JAY ALAN SEKULOW
Counsel of Record
JORDAN A. SEKULOW
STUART J. ROTH
ANDREW J. EKONOMOU
GEOFFREY R. SURTEES
NATHAN J. MOELKER
LIAM R. HARRELL
AMERICAN CENTER FOR
LAW & JUSTICE
201 Maryland Ave., NE
Washington, DC 20002
(202) 546-8890
sekulow@aclj.org
This is a copy of a public record, reproduced as it was published. It is not legal advice, and it may not be the version a court would rely on. Check the official source before you cite it.