Abstract
Akhil Amar isn't always right, but he is always insightful and provocative. And when he's wrong, he's usually not far wrong and the argument to prove him wrong is always difficult and debatable. I learned this early and often, the hard way, as Akhil's law school roommate in 1982-83. Akhil, ranting and raving, would follow me into the bathroom - not even letting me brush my teeth in peace at 1:00 in the morning - arguing some point of constitutional law where he thought (usually correctly) that my position was illogical, unprincipled, stupid, or just plain too conservative for him. I could, sometimes, convince Akhil that he should brush his teeth, too - a stratagem that would give me a fighting chance of getting a word in edge-wise or at least slowing down the verbal pounding I was getting. But often as not, Akhil would simply rage on, foaming at the mouth, toothpaste flying in dangerous directions, as he relentlessly argued his point. Akhil's recent work on double jeopardy has that same relentless character. If I have learned anything about law in the last dozen years, it's when not to argue head-on with Akhil Amar, even when you think he is wrong. It is more effective, I have learned, to appear to be agreeing with his premises and intrigued by his argument, and then to pose reasonably thoughtful questions. These sometimes cause Amar to push his argument too far - and thus get him to fall of his own intellectual ...