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List of Conventions of States and Colonies in American History

List of Conventions of States and Colonies in American History


Conventions of states, and before Independence of colonies have met frequently over the past three centuries. A “Convention for proposing Amendments” held under the Constitution is a gathering of this type.

The following list itemizes all known conventions of states or colonies.

To qualify as a convention of states (or colonies), the gathering must be a temporary meeting of legislatively-authorized representatives of at least three states or colonies, convening pursuant to instructions to consult about and/or negotiate solutions to assigned problem(s). At some conventions of states, other sovereignties have been invited to participate. The convention may be charged with proposing solutions or, in rare cases, with presenting solutions that participating states or colonies agree in advance to accept. Legislative authorization may be direct (by a specific statute or resolution) or indirect (by prior legislation or standing order).

In the list below, some conventions are identified as general. A convention is general if all states, or at least states from all regions, are invited to participate. If not identified as general, the convention is partial or regional.

Conventions of states sometimes are known by other names. Conventions meeting before establishment of the Second Continental Congress usually were called “congresses”—although they were called conventions as well. Some gatherings have been called “councils” or “committees” as well as conventions. The official name of the assembly in Washington, D.C. in 1861 was the “Washington Conference Convention,” but most history books refer to it by its unofficial nickname: the Washington Peace Conference. Similarly, twentieth-century conventions been called “commissions” (e.g., Colorado River Compact Commission). But they actually were temporary conventions of states, and should not be confused with those commissions that are permanent administrative bodies.

The first list includes the verified conventions. A convention is verified if we have reliable information of the date and place of meeting, subject matter, and states or colonies participating. The second list is of unverified conventions. A convention is unverified if we have reliable information that a meeting was held, but not as to all of those items.

Finally: Not included on the list are conventions that were called, but never met. These include, for example, the Charleston price convention called by Congress for the Southern states in 1777, the convention of Northeastern states called by Massachusetts in 1783, and the Navigation Convention called for Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Maryland for (1786). Although these planned conclaves proved abortive, the historical records surrounding them is useful in confirming and clarifying standard interstate convention protocols.

Further information on these conventions is located at Additional information on conventions up to 1787 appears in this article.

Verified Conventions

          Before Independence

  1. Albany (1677) (Indian negotiations)
  2. Albany (1684) (Indian negotiations)
  3. Boston (1689) (defense issues)
  4. Albany (1689) (Indian negotiations)
  5. New York City (1690) (defense)
  6. New York City (1693) (defense)
  7. Albany (1694) (Indian negotiations)
  8. New York City (1704) (defense)
  9. Boston (1711) (defense)
  10. Albany (1722) (Indian negotiations)
  11. Albany (1744) (defense)
  12. Lancaster, PA (1744) (Indian negotiations)
  13. Albany (1745) (defense)
  14. Albany (1745) (Indian negotiations)
  15. New York City (1747) (defense)
  16. Albany (1751) (Indian negotiations)
  17. Albany (1754) (Indian negotiations & plan of union) — general
  18. New York City (1765) (response to Stamp Act) — general
  19. Fort Stanwyx (Rome, NY) (1768) (Indian negotiations)
  20. New York City (1774) (response to British actions)—general

           After Independence

  1. Providence, RI (1776-77) (paper currency and public credit)
  2. York Town, PA (1777) (price control)
  3. Springfield, MA (1777) (economic issues)
  4. New Haven, CN (1778) (price controls and other responses to inflation)
  5. Hartford, CN (1779) (economic issues)
  6. Philadelphia (1780) (price controls)—general
  7. Boston (1780) (conduct of Revolutionary War)
  8. Hartford (1780) (conduct of Revolutionary War)
  9. Providence, RI (1781) (war supply)
  10. Annapolis, MD (1786) (trade)—general
  11. Philadelphia (1787) (propose changes in political system)—general
  12. Hartford, CN (1814) (New England states’ response to the War of 1812)
  13. Nashville, TN (1850)(Southern response to the North)
  14. Washington, DC (1861)(propose a constitutional amendment)—general
  15. Montgomery, AL(1861) (write the Confederate constitution)
  16. Louis, MO (1889) (propose anti-trust measures)
  17. Santa Fe,  NM & other cities (1922) (negotiate the Colorado River Compact)
  18. Denver & other cities (1946-49) (negotiate Upper Colorado River Basin Compact)

Unverified Conventions

  1. Boston(?) (1757) (defense)
  2. Salt Lake City (1920) (Western water issues)
  3. Lower Colo. River states (>1922) (unsuccessful river negotiations)
  4. Colorado Springs, Santa Fe (1924, 1928-29) (negotiate Rio Grande River Compact) (technically may have comprised 2-3 separate conventions)
  5. Washington, D.C. (1924 & intermittently thereafter)—unsuccessful negotiation regarding North Platte River)


The last convention of states ever held? It Centered on the Upper Colorado River

The last convention of states ever held? It Centered on the Upper Colorado River

I recently obtained the records of what may be the last convention of states ever held—records demonstrating that states were meeting in convention well into the mid 20th century.

A “convention of states” as the American Founders and subsequent generations understood the term, is a temporary conclave of legislatively-authorized representatives from three or more states. It is both a diplomatic gathering—the representatives or “commissioners” are essentially ambassadors from their respective legislatures—and a problem-solving task force. Sometimes representatives of sovereignties other than states, such as Indian tribes or the federal government (or, in colonial times, the British crown), have been invited to participate. Conventions of states also have been called “committees of states,” “congresses,” and “commissions.”

Conventions of states, both national (“general”) and regional (“partial”), have met for many different purposes: to plan common defense, work out common responses to political challenges, negotiate treaties with Indian tribes, seek and propose solutions to economic problems, propose constitutional amendments, and, on two occasions (Philadelphia in 1787 and Montgomery in 1861) to prepare new constitutions. Only the last two can properly be called constitutional conventions.

In the 20th century, states used them to hammer out western water compacts. I previously reported on the Santa Fe Convention of 1922, formally called the Colorado River Compact Commission. It was the gathering of seven states and a federal commissioner, then-Secretary of Commerce Herbert Hoover.  It negotiated the Colorado River Compact. I also have reported that similar gatherings met to negotiate the Rio Grande River Compact and an abortive North Platte River compact. My latest acquisition is the official record of the convention that negotiated the compact covering the Upper Colorado River —the portion north and east of Lee Ferry, Arizona.

This was a true convention among five states: Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico, Utah, and Wyoming. It met intermittently from July 22, 1946 to August 5, 1949. Commissioners attended from each state. They were not chosen by their legislatures directly, but legislative statutes authorized the appointment of each and gave each his power. At the request of the states, President Truman named a federal representative to participate as well: Harry W. Bashore, formerly Commissioner of the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation.

The group’s assignment was to divide up the waters of the Upper Colorado River among the five states and determine how much each state had to provide to the states of the Lower Colorado River. This was a highly technical task. Accordingly, unlike most conventions (but like the Santa Fe meeting) there was only one commissioner from each state, but each was assisted by a technical staff. In addition, the group created an engineering advisory committee and a legal advisory committee. The technical nature of the job was why the group had to keep adjourning and reassembling: Engineering studies and negotiations over local streams were performed in the interim.

Another interesting variation is that, like the 1922 convention, the Upper Colorado River group met in different cities and towns at different times: Cheyenne, Wyoming; Denver, Colorado; Salt Lake City and Vernal, Utah; and Santa Fe, New Mexico. In addition, it held public hearings in four other towns. In all, there were 41 days of sessions grouped into eleven formal “meetings.” The first eight meetings led to completion of the compact in 1948. The remaining three, held the following year, were short sessions for wrapping up business.

The conclave also gave itself a name, since its authorizing documents didn’t specify one. It called itself the Upper Colorado River Basin Compact Commisssion.

Within those variations, the group operated according to standard convention of states protocols. Specifically:

* The commissioners established their own procedures. Thus, they made it clear that a preliminary meeting that included the state governors did not bind them, and they re-voted on the decisions made at that preliminary meeting.

* Each state had one vote, cast by its commissioner, no matter how many people from each state happened to be present. After briefly considering a unanimity rule (such as the Colorado River Commission adopted but eventually abandoned), the group retained a rule of decision by a majority. However, it strove for unanimity, and generally was successful. The federal representative had no vote.

* The commissioners elected their own officers: As has been typical among interstate conventions the chairman was a commissioner and the secretary was not. Although he could not vote, Mr. Bashore was elected chairman.

* The record reproduces many roll call votes by states, some quite dramatic. The voting usually was open. But the vote on the overall percentages by which states would divide the river water was by secret ballot.

* The commissioners affirmed that they were negotiating by virtue of the states’ reserved sovereign powers, not by virtue of permission of federal law (as President Truman seemed to think). In this respect, the Upper Colorado River Convention was typical—although a gathering held under Article V would derive its authority from the Constitution rather than from reserved sovereign power.

The proceedings the Upper Colorado River Basin Compact Commission are impressive. The commissioners and staff worked very hard. Most people involved were thoughtful and highly qualified. The engineering studies were voluminous.

Also impressive is the recurrence of some important names. A listed adviser was Ralph Carr, who later as governor of Colorado during World War II, won national attention by opposing the Roosevelt administration’s groundless incarceration of Japanese-American citizens. Another listed adviser was Barry M. Goldwater, later U.S. Senator and the 1964 Republican nominee for President.

The compact the convention negotiated was approved by all five states and by Congress. It is still in effect. It created a permanent administrative body called the Upper Colorado River Commission, to whose staff I am grateful for loaning me the convention record.

Fake News: How Two Leading Newspapers Spread the “Runaway Convention” Story in the 1960s & 1970s

Fake News: How Two Leading Newspapers Spread the “Runaway Convention” Story in the 1960s & 1970s

Although there were scattered antecedents, “runaway convention” claims and certain associated myths were first distributed widely during the 1960s and 1970s. In a previous Article V Information Center study, I documented how those stories were publicized by leading opinion-molders in national liberal establishment. Their goal was to disable the Article V convention process to prevent proposal of constitutional amendments to restrain the federal government.

Now a new Article V Information Center study shows how the two leading newspapers of the same liberal establishment worked with those opinion-molders. During the 1960s and 1970s, the New York Times and the Washington Post not only opposed a convention editorially, but their skewed their news stories to promote fake news “runaway” claims.

You can find the new study here.

Where Congress’s Power to Regulate Immigration Comes From

Where Congress’s Power to Regulate Immigration Comes From

Introduction. Earlier this year, a law journal published an exchange between two respected law professors—a conservative and a libertarian—about whether the Constitution authorizes Congress to regulate immigration. (The Constitution does not mention immigration except to say that Congress cannot ban it before 1808.) The conservative said “Yes,” and supported his position with some extremely liberal (!) readings of parts of the Constitution. The libertarian said, “No”—that except in special circumstances Congress could not restrict immigration (although the states could).

Surprisingly, both contributors missed the actual source of Congress’s immigration authority: the power “To define and punish . . . Offences against the Law of Nations”) (Article I, Section 8, Clause 10).

The law journal already had been published, so it was too late to join the discussion on its pages. Accordingly, I wrote an article in The Hill detailing why the “Define and Punish Clause” applies to immigration. The libertarian replied on the pages of the Volokh Conspiracy, a Washington Post blog to which he regularly contributes, and for which I have occasionally written as well.

I thought this issue was worth a full explanation of why the Define and Punish Clause covers immigration, because its applicability to immigration is not well known, even among legal experts. Accordingly, I prepared the essay below for readers interested in immigration issues. As should be apparent from this essay, I am NOT taking a stand on immigration policy, just on an issue of constitutional interpretation. This essay appeared in Josh Blackman’s Blog.

Links to some of the earlier writings appear in the essay.

Why the Define and Punish Clause Grants Congress Power to Regulate Immigration

By Robert G. Natelson

            In a recent article in The Hill, I wrote that the Constitution’s grant to Congress of power “To define and punish . . . Offences against the Law of Nations” confers authority to restrict immigration. Professor Ilya Somin has responded and argues the contrary.

Before addressing his argument, I should make clear I agree with Professor Somin on several key issues about the Constitution and immigration. I agree that the original meaning of the Commerce Clause does not include a general power to restrict immigration, and that the Naturalization Clause probably does not, either. In company with him, I reject the claim that the federal government possesses extra-constitutional inherent sovereign authority—because that claim is starkly inconsistent with the ratification-era debates, the structure of the Constitution, and the text of the Tenth Amendment.

Where we differ is about whether the power to “define and punish Offences against the Law of Nations” includes authority to restrict immigration.

“The Law of Nations” was the usual 18th century term for international law. Most of the law of nations governed how nations interacted with other nations. However, some aspects governed how they interacted with foreigners and a few aspects—such as the law merchant—regulated how citizens of different countries interacted with each other.

The law of nations was based on natural law, custom, and international agreements. However, the rules were not always clearly defined, and they were not self-executing. For this reason, legislatures adopted implementing statutes. Examples of such statutes were those protecting safe-conduct passes from disrespect and foreign ambassadors from insult. The Define and Punish Clause granted Congress authority to adopt implementing measures.

The law of nations held, as a general principle, that nations should not harm each other. Hence, it provided that nations must refrain from unauthorized incursions into other nations’ territory. To violate international law, the unauthorized entry need not be led by a foreign government. As the Founders’ favorite international law scholar, Emer de Vattel observed, “Private persons, who are members of one nation . . . may injure a foreign sovereign.” Immigration statutes implemented the “no unauthorized entry” norm against “private persons” from other countries.

Professor Somin acknowledges that “the law of nations did indeed assume that each state has the authority to restrict the entry of aliens, largely as it sees fit.” But he notes that the mere fact that the law of nations authorized a sovereign to adopt legislation did not render the legislation part of the law of nations. For example, the law of nations recognized a sovereign’s prerogative to enact statutes forbidding murder. However, most murders were not offenses against the law of nations. Moreover, if it were true that any statute consistent with international jurisprudence were part of international jurisprudence, the Define and Punish Clause would empower Congress to adopt any ordinary police legislation permitted by international law. Such a sweeping grant of power to Congress would be inconsistent with the Founders’ design.

On these points Professor Somin is correct.

On the other hand, some domestic statutes surely did define offences against the law of nations. An example is a statute prohibiting a citizen from insulting or impeding a foreign ambassador. Thus, to state that the Define and Punish Clause does not authorize all domestic laws does not answer the question of which domestic laws it does authorize. Is a statute restricting immigration in the class with ordinary murder laws or in the class with protections for ambassadors? Immigration limits have international implications that ordinary murder laws do not have. So reasoning would seem to place immigration restrictions in the “law of nations” category.

But questions of constitutional meaning cannot be answered through pure reason, however acute. Nor does the constitutional answer lie in what we moderns think international law is or should be—a mistake into which Professor Somin’s essay slips once or twice.

At least to an originalist who follows Founding-Era norms of interpretation, the meaning of a constitutional term is fixed by the understanding of those who ratified it or, in absence of sufficient coherent evidence on that subject, by the original public meaning. When, as here, the constitutional debates provide little relevant evidence on the sense of a legal term, our best evidence of its meaning may be Founding-Era jurisprudence. (I say “may be” because contemporaneous congressional and state records are sometimes more helpful.)

To a modern reader, some of the classifications adopted by 18th century jurisprudence appear arbitrary. Yet those classifications often serve to define constitutional meaning. The framers treated bankruptcy and commerce separately, despite their interrelated nature, because they were distinct legal categories. Similarly, the legal phrase of “to regulate Commerce” encompassed travel by ship but not (most) travel by foot. So under the Constitution’s original legal force, the power to regulate commerce included boat travel from Canada but not (usually) walking across the border.

Helpful to grasping international law jurisprudence as the Founders understood it are three treatises they held in high esteem: Samuel Pufendorf’s 17th century work, Of the Law of Nature and Nations, and two 18th century works: Emer de Vattel’s The Law of Nations and Blackstone’s Commentaries.

Vattel wrote that the law of nations derived from the natural law applicable to individuals, as modified by convention and by the special circumstances of sovereigns: “[C]onsequently, the law of nations is originally no other than the law of nature applied to nations” (emphasis in original). Indeed, both Vattel and Pufendorf frequently drew upon rules of natural law applicable to individuals to deduce or justify substantive rules of international law. By way of illustration, here is how Pufendorf justifies immigration restrictions:

The Case is somewhat like that of a private Man, who in his House or Gardens, possesses some rare Curiosity, or other valuable Sight; such an one does not apprehend himself tied freely to let in all Spectators . . . And this seems the more reasonable, because the Grounds of prudent Caution and Suspicion are so numerous. . . .

And farther, that it seems very gross and absurd, to allow others an indefinite or unlimited Right of traveling and living among us, without reflecting either on their Number, or on the Design of their coming; whether supposing them to pass harmlessly, they intend only to take a short view of our Country, or whether they claim a Right of fixing themselves with us for ever. And that he who will stretch the Duty of Hospitality to this extravagant Extent, ought to be rejected as a most unreasonable, and most improper Judge of the Case.

As to our main Question, it is look’d on by most as the safest way of resolving it, to say, That it is left in the power of all States, to take such Measures about the Admission of Strangers, as they think convenient . . . .

I suppose Professor Somin might respond that Pufendorf was merely asserting the power of nations to exclude foreigners—that Pufendorf was not saying the intrusion violated the law of nations. But this does not seem justified by the context. Pufendorf was engaged in the common methodology of using rules of domestic law to deduce rules of international law. Domestic law not only gives permission to a householder to decide to exclude. Domestic law also makes it an offense to disregard the householder’s decision. I see no reason why international law would not encompass both the decision to exclude and unauthorized disregard of that decision. As noted earlier, immigration laws are not purely domestic in their effect; they have important international implications.

Blackstone understood this passage the same way I do, and for purposes of constitutional interpretation Blackstone’s exposition matters a great deal. Explicitly relying on this passage, Blackstone wrote, “Upon exactly the same reason stands the prerogative of granting safe-conducts, without which by the law of nations no member of one society has a right to intrude into another. (emphasis added).” To Blackstone, then, the law of nations does not merely grant a sovereign the right to exclude. A violation is itself an offence against the law of nations.

Now we turn to Vattel’s treatise. It consists of four books. The first was entitled “Of Nations considered in themselves.” A major theme of this first book is the derivation of rules of governance from natural law principles. Despite the title, the book goes beyond questions of internal governance to deduce conclusions about the law of nations. Among those conclusions:

*          “A nation or state has a right to every thing that can help to ward off imminent danger;”

*          nations may limit or ban imports;

*          they may refuse to trade with others; and

*          they may restrict emigration and immigration, taking into consideration a range of factors, including available land, health concerns, avoiding religious strife, and factors of safety and culture. Indeed, the nation “has a right, and is even obliged, to follow, in this respect, the suggestions of prudence.”

Now, these seem like rules of international law to me. And in respect to immigration at least, they go beyond mere permission: They extend to obligation—for a sovereign “is even obliged” to legislate according to likely consequences.

Vattel further supports the conclusion that the law of nations includes the substance of immigration statutes. In this book, he mentions a rule among some European states denying citizenship to foreigners. Vattel characterizes the rule—not merely the authorization—as “the law of nations, established there by custom.” Professor Somin observes that this custom regulated citizenship rather than immigration. But that distinction actually cuts against his argument: If even an internal citizenship rule dealing with foreigners—a rule central to the life of a polity—is part of the law of nations, then a limit on foreigners crossing the border is one a fortiorari. (As Professor Somin correctly states, Vattel didn’t like the custom of denying citizenship to foreigners. But that is wholly beside the point.)

Yet, perhaps one might object that Vattel’s first book is really only about “Nations considered in themselves,” and that we should therefore be cautious about treating its conclusions as part of the law of nations.

So let us examine Vattel’s second book. Its title tells us it is wholly about the law of nations: “Of a Nation Considered in its Relation to Others.” (The third and fourth books are about war and peace, respectively.) Here are some passages from the second book, presented in order of appearance:

As every thing included in the country belongs to the nation—and as none but the nation, or the person on whom she has devolved her right, is authorised to dispose of those things,— if she has left uncultivated and desert places in the country, no person whatever has a right to take possession of them without her consent. Though she does not make actual use of them, those places still belong to her: she has an interest in preserving them for future use, and is not accountable to any person for the manner in which she makes use of her property.

 * * * *

Since the least encroachment on the territory of another is an act of injustice . . . the limits of territories ought to be marked out with clearness and precision.

 * * * *

We should not only refrain from usurping the territory of others; we should also respect it, and abstain from every act contrary to the rights of the sovereign: for a foreign nation can claim no right in it.

    * * * *

The sovereign may forbid the entrance of his territory either to foreigners in general, or in particular cases, or to certain persons, or for certain particular purposes, according as he may think it advantageous to the state. There is nothing in all this, that does not flow from the rights of domain and sovereignty: every one is obliged to pay respect to the prohibition; and whoever dares to violate it, incurs the penalty decreed to render it effectual. But the prohibition ought to be known, as well as the penalty annexed to disobedience: those who are ignorant of it, ought to be informed of it when they approach to enter the country.

 * * * *

Since the lord of the territory may, whenever he thinks proper, forbid its being entered, he has no doubt a power to annex what conditions he pleases to the permission to enter. This, as we have already said, is a consequence of the right of domain.

Perhaps one might rejoin, “Here again, Vattel says only that the law of nations permits sovereigns to restrict immigration; he does not say that violations are part of the law of nations.” On the contrary, though, Vattel does more than describe the prerogative of the sovereign to exclude. In this book (remember: focusing on international norms) Vattel also prescribes the duty to obey:

*          “We should not only refrain from usurping the territory of others; we should also respect it, and abstain from every act contrary to the rights of the sovereign;” and

*          “[E]very one is obliged to pay respect to the prohibition; and whoever dares to violate it, incurs the penalty decreed to render it effectual.”

Even if these passages of obligation were absent, I don’t think it is the most natural reading of the text to infer that the right to enact a restrictive statute is a component of international law but violation of the statute is not. I doubt many Americans reading Vattel during the Founding Era would think a book entitled “Of a Nation Considered in its Relation to Others” was telling them, “The law of nations authorizes restrictive immigration statutes but is wholly agnostic about their violation.” Certainly Vattel never says that.

One last point—not fully germane, but worth mentioning. Professor Somin writes, “But in the eighteenth century, and even today, states have no international law obligation to prevent the peaceful migration of their citizens to foreign nations that might wish to exclude them.” Vattel, at least, may well have disagreed:

If a sovereign, who might keep his subjects within the rules of justice and peace, suffers them to injure a foreign nation either in its body or its members, he does no less injury to that nation, than if he injured it himself.

* * * *

Finally, there is another case where the nation in general is guilty of the crimes of its members. That is when by its manners and by the maxims of its government it accustoms and authorizes its citizens . . . to make inroads into neighboring countries.

How progressives Promoted the ‘Runaway Convention’ Myth to Protect the Warren Court’s Judicial Activism

How progressives Promoted the ‘Runaway Convention’ Myth to Protect the Warren Court’s Judicial Activism

You may have heard alarms that if we hold a national convention for proposing constitutional amendments the gathering would be an uncontrollable constitutional convention (“con-con”) that could propose anything at all.

The claim is called the “runaway scenario.” It has almost no basis in history or law. But it has long frightened Americans away from using the Constitution’s chief mechanism for bypassing Congress and curing our dysfunctional federal government.

The “runaway” specter has been raised by fringe elements on both the left and the right. It is a ghost that haunts the imagination of groups like the John Birch Society and Common Cause.

Now we have more information about how it was conjured up.

Last year, the Article V Information Center published my paper showing that confusion between an amendments convention and a constitutional convention first arose in the 20th century. The paper further documents how, during the 1960s and 1970s, leading establishment liberals, such as Kennedy speechwriter Theodore Sorensen and Kennedy confidant Arthur Goldberg, capitalized on that confusion by raising the runaway specter.

The paper concluded that their plan was to scare people away from using the Constitution’s convention mechanism. Their goals were twofold. First, they wanted to protect from reversal by constitutional amendment several Supreme Court decisions that had proved highly controversial—among them Roe v. Wade, the case that legalized abortion nationwide. Second, they sought to block growing momentum for amendments imposing term limits and requiring a federal balanced budget.

Now the curator of the Article V Library has produced more evidence confirming these conclusions.

The Article V Library collects every state legislative resolution calling for an amendments convention. It also offers features for screening them by subject and for ascertaining which are still in effect.

Without prior knowledge of my own conclusions, Robert Biggerstaff, the library’s curator, conducted an n-gram search in Google Books to find out when the phrase “runaway convention” arose (now updated to 2008, the last year for which data are available). He discovered that the term was almost unknown until around 1960—when it suddenly became extraordinarily common. Usage rose to counter rising popular demand for constitutional amendments. In the 1990s, as momentum for amendments abated, so also did resort to the runaway scenario. Another n-gram searchshows that the abbreviation “con con,” widely used by convention opponents, also was invented around 1960.

Biggerstaff notes: “In the 1950’s and 60’s progressives actively sought change through courts when it was not possible through legislatures.  This was an express tactical choice to seek through judicial activism what was stymied by legislatures.”

However, their strategy had what he calls an “Achilles’ heel.” Supreme Court decisions can be—and several times have been—overturned by constitutional amendment. After the Supreme Court required states to reapportion their legislatures in the 1960s, for example, 33 of the necessary 34 state legislatures filed applications demanding a convention to propose an amendment reversing the court’s rulings.

“As a result,” Biggerstaff says, “it became important to neuter the Article V Amendment process—particularly to prevent triggering by convention applications—to protect progressive successes achieved in the courts.”

Biggerstaff concludes that this was why the runaway convention fiction suddenly emerged from nowhere during the 1960s. In his view, “generating unwarranted fear of the Article V convention process was a ploy introduced by progressives as a way to prevent states from countering progressives’ use of judicial activism.”

This article originally appeared in The Hill.