But autocratic legalism is not a Central European pathology. In a widely circulated 2020 essay, The End of the Trump Era and the Future of Autocratic Legalism , Scheppele turned her lens to the United States. She argued that while Donald Trump was a clumsy autocrat—more impulse than strategy—his administration had nevertheless deployed autocratic legalist tactics: a travel ban justified by statutory authority, the separation of migrant families under a literal reading of a 1997 consent decree, the rewriting of postal service rules before an election, and the relentless pressure on the Department of Justice to act as a personal law firm.

This article explores the architecture of Scheppele’s theory, its empirical grounding in Central Europe, its evolution through the Trump and Orbán eras, and its urgent implications for liberal democracies today. While the keyword often attaches “UPenn” to her name due to her influential years at Penn’s Law School and the Andrea Mitchell Center for the Study of Democracy, Scheppele’s institutional home is now Princeton. But her intellectual DNA remains deeply woven into the legal realism of the Philadelphia-New York corridor. In her landmark 2018 article, Autocratic Legalism (University of Chicago Law Review), Scheppele draws a sharp line between two familiar forms of governance. The first is authoritarian legality —the brute-force law of dictatorships, where courts are rubber stamps and legal forms are mere window dressing for raw power. The second is liberal legality —the ideal of the rule of law, where general, public, prospective, and consistent norms bind both citizen and sovereign.

In the twilight of the 20th century, political scientists largely agreed on a simple, reassuring binary. Democracies had courts, constitutions, and the rule of law. Authoritarian regimes had show trials, secret police, and arbitrary edicts. The path from one to the other was violent and obvious—a coup, a revolution, a tank in the square.

First, Some scholars argue that Scheppele’s framework risks labeling any aggressive, partisan use of legal power as “autocratic.” If a democratic majority packs a court (as FDR threatened), is that autocratic legalism? Scheppele answers with a distinction of entrenchment versus policy . FDR wanted to change policy; Orbán wanted to change the ability of future majorities to ever change policy again . The latter is autocratic legalism; the former is constitutional hardball within a still-competitive system.

The keyword’s durability lies in its uncomfortable truth: Law is not automatically the friend of liberty. Law can be a weapon. Procedures can be parasites on principles. And the most dangerous enemies of democracy are not those who burn the courthouse, but those who quietly rewrite the rules of admission.

Then came the 2010s. Observers watched in bewilderment as elected leaders in Hungary, Poland, Turkey, and eventually the United States began dismantling democratic guardrails not with bayonets, but with briefs. They amended constitutions. They packed courts. They rewrote electoral laws. They declared emergencies and cited legal texts. To the casual eye, the machinery of law was still humming. But the destination had changed.

For students, activists, and scholars typing “autocratic legalism kim lane scheppele upd” into search bars late at night, the answer awaits in her formidable corpus: begin with Autocratic Legalism (2018), then read The Rule of Law and the Eurocrisis (2015), then the Hungary and Poland chapter in the Oxford Handbook of Comparative Constitutional Law. But also read the dissents—the judges fired in Budapest, the professors investigated in Warsaw, the civil servants purged in Ankara. Their stories are the data points. Scheppele gave us the regression line.

In a 2021 interview with the Journal of Democracy , Scheppele was asked whether she was optimistic. Her answer was characteristically lawyerly: “Optimism is not a category of analysis. But clarity is. If we call autocratic legalism by its name—if we stop saying ‘democratic backsliding’ and start saying ‘legalized autocracy’—then we have a chance to build the defenses. Without the diagnosis, there is no prescription.” Kim Lane Scheppele’s journey from Penn to Princeton, from anthropology to law, from post-Soviet constitutional courts to the Hungarian parliament, has produced one of the most urgent bodies of political-legal thought in the 21st century. Autocratic legalism is her gift to the opposition—a concept sharp enough to cut through the fog of legal bureaucracy and reveal the strongman in the judge’s robe.