In the meme-rich Episode 4 of The Mandalorian, a cranky Loth-cat menaces Baby Yoda while the protagonists are trying to blend in with the locals on the planet of Sorgan. This alarming little confrontation raises some legal questions about bringing a pet along when visiting the friendly neighborhood public house.
Animals in a food facility
First off, the Loth-cat’s presence in the public house’s dining area is of concern. Generally, state and local regulations of food safety forbid animals in restaurants. See, e.g., Cal. Health & Safety Code § 114259.5(a); N.Y.C., N.Y., Health Code § 81.25.
Despite this general rule, a number of states, including Florida, New York, Illinois, and California, have in recent years passed statutes that allow restaurants to serve patrons with dogs in outdoor seating areas. But the restaurant seating in The Mandalorian seems like it’s inside a structure, albeit a relatively open-air one. In any event, those laws are dog-specific, so an intergalactic cat could not benefit from these al fresco exceptions.
Notably, the Americans with Disabilities Act requires public accommodations like restaurants to allow patrons with disabilities to dine with their qualified service animal. 42 U.S.C. § 12182(b)(2)(A)(ii); 28 C.F.R. § 36.302(c). However, the ADA regulations define a service animal as a dog (or a miniature horse) and exclude all other creatures, including those of a feline variety. 28 C.F.R. § 36.104 (definition of “Service Animal”). An ill-tempered Loth-cat certainly would not qualify as a trained service animal that is entitled by the ADA to be in a restaurant.
Leash requirements for animals in public
But even assuming that the Loth-cat’s presence in a restaurant was not unlawful, the Loth-cat is apparently unrestrained and untethered. Is the owner of this grouchy Loth-cat required to keep it on a leash?
As an initial observation, leash laws tend to focus only on dogs. Two states, Michigan and Pennsylvania, require that owners maintain control of dogs while outside the home. Mich. Comp. Laws Ann. § 287.262 (making it unlawful for owner to allow a dog “to stray unless held properly in leash”); 3 Pa. Stat. Ann. § 459-305 (requiring that dogs be “under the reasonable control of some person”). Beyond that, states broadly regulate dogs that roam “at large” and allow the authorities to capture stray canines. Otherwise, dog leash laws are creatures of local regulation. See, e.g., N.Y.C., N.Y., Health Code § 161.05(a); Chi., Ill., Municipal Code § 7-12-030.
Also, many states and cities impose leashing, muzzling, and other requirements on dogs that have been adjudicated as dangerous or vicious. While the Loth-cat certainly snapped and growled at the Child, it’s not clear that the Loth-cat qualifies as a dangerous animal, and again: not a dog.
When it comes to our feline friends, some municipalities require cats to be on leashes when outside the home. See, e.g., Dallas, Tex., Code of Ordinances § 7-3.1(a)(4); Englewood, Colo., Municipal Code § 7-1A-3; St. Louis, Mo., Ordinances § 10.04.225; S.F., Cal., Park Code § 5.03 (requiring cats to be leashed or crated only while in San Francisco city parks). But given the difficulty of catching unleashed cats, cat leash laws can be controversial and their efficacy questionable. And given that The Mandalorian takes place in the lawless times after the Empire has collapsed, it seems unlikely that the rural world of Sorgan regards cat leashing as a legislative priority.
Of course, even if there were no leash requirements for Loth-cats on Sorgan, the owner would have been liable for negligence if—God forbid—the Loth-cat had injured Baby Yoda. Thankfully, Baby Yoda seemed unscathed, but Loth-cats turn up all over the galaxy far, far away with nary a leash, crate, or registration tag in sight. After Baby Yoda’s brush with the surly Loth-cat in Episode 4, perhaps he will use his celebrity platform to persuade his local representatives to finally enact some much-needed Loth-cat regulations.
At first glance, Mandalorians might not seem like a desperate lot, what with all their blasters, flamethrowers, whistling birds, heavy repeating cannons, jet packs, and…well you get the idea. But behind those steely beskar helmets are a people fighting for their very existence in the galaxy far far away. The first few episodes of The Mandalorian have given us a very different look at Mandalorians.
A far cry from what we’ve previously seen of their society in The Clone Wars or Rebels series, Mandalorians have been driven into the shadows by the Empire, forced to hide like sand rats. But with the fall of the Empire, could the Mandalorian people lawfully claim refugee status in order to get protection from the New Republic?
Let’s all agree that Baby Yoda would be granted INSTANT asylum in every single household in the Star Wars galaxy.
Unfortunately for Mandalorians, escaping persecution in the galaxy probably isn’t as easy as planting a sweet Mythosaur flag on a new planet. Even though The Mandalorian takes place several years after Return of the Jedi, it’s clear that the entire galaxy hasn’t suddenly become a friendly place after the Empire’s fall, especially for certain groups like the Mandalorians.
From mopping up Imperial warlords to establishing a credible new government, the New Republic undoubtedly had a large set of priorities competing for its limited resources. However, given the huge numbers of people displaced by the galactic civil war, the work of crafting a legal framework to govern refugees and asylum seekers would likely have been a top priority for leaders like Mon Mothma.
The basic judicial legal concept of asylum dates back millennia. It allows those persecuted by or within their own country to seek sanctuary and protection from another sovereign authority. Over time, countries have developed their own unique refugee and asylum laws, which means legal standards differ depending on which country you’re seeking refugee status in. For example, under Australian law, those who attempt to travel illegally by boat to the country will not be processed or resettled in Australia. Intended as a measure to stop human smuggling, those arriving illegally by boat may be returned to international borders or sent to a third country for processing. Elsewhere, in Brazil the granting of asylum is a principle enshrined in the country’s constitution.
We don’t know precisely what galactic laws are on the books at the time of The Mandalorian (Lucasfilm ought to give us the Star Wars legal drama we deserve), so we will have to fill the gap with real world law. To that end, we will use U.S. refugee and asylum law as a guide.
By the end of the massive gunfight at the end of Episode 3 (The Sin), the Mandalorians had probably blown their welcome on that particular planet to smithereens. The Mandalorian seemingly confirms this, telling his hulking brother in arms that the Tribe would be forced to relocate to another planet. Since they would be seeking sanctuary on another planet from outside its borders, the Tribe would therefore be considered refugees, assuming they meet that legal definition.
Destroying literally everything in sight isn’t the ideal way to endear yourself to local officials.
Before the Mandalorians can go plop down their jet packs on a new planet, they would bear the burden of proving they are entitled to refugee status. Under the Immigration and Nationality Act (“INA”), a refugee is defined as any person outside their own country who is unable or unwilling to return there because they have suffered past persecution or has a well-founded fear of future persecution on account of race, religion, nationality, membership in a particular social group, or political opinion.
The Tribe has clearly been displaced from their home on Mandalore, having resorted to hiding out on a dingy backwater planet. Historically, Mandalorians were a very territorial people who fiercely defended their independence from the larger galaxy. Given Mandalorians’ deep connection to their home, it’s incredibly unlikely Mandalorians would voluntarily choose to live off world en masse. The Mandalorian’s conversation with fellow Tribe members back this up, making it clear that they were driven into hiding by the Empire.
We know from the Rebels series that Mandalorians still occupied their planet in some form within a year of the Death Star’s destruction in A New Hope. The Tribe speaks of a major event occurring some time after that point which was seemingly the catalyst that drove Mandalorians from their home. While we don’t yet know a great deal about this event, it is referred to as the Great Purge. That apparent atrocity ultimately scattered surviving Mandalorians and sent them into into hiding. This means the Tribe could certainly prove that it suffered past persecution that displaced them from Mandalore.
Since the Great Purge was inflicted upon the Mandalorian people, they also have a strong case that the persecution was on account of their nationality or religion. Nationality is traditionally based on one’s citizenship. As citizens of the sovereign planet Mandalore, ‘Mandalorian’ could be considered a nationality in the same way we recognize a legal difference between U.S. and French or Italian citizens.
However nationality isn’t defined only by one’s citizenship. Persecution of ethnic, linguistic, and cultural groups within a population can also be deemed persecution based on nationality. The persecution of ethnic minorities within their own borders is often considered persecution based on nationality. The Chin people of Myanmar are a good example of this principle. While the Chin are technically citizens of Myanmar, the targeted persecution of their group has been considered persecution based on nationality. Much like the Chin, Mandalorians would likely constitute their own ethnic subgroup of the larger galaxy, given their unique common culture that includes a religious devotion to weapons and fervent dedication to not removing their helmets. The Empire’s targeted mass murder of Mandalorians would therefore qualify as persecution based on nationality.
Who says a refugee can’t have a heavy repeater blaster and jetpack?
But it is not enough to have simply been persecuted in the past. Proving that they are unable or unwilling to return to Mandalore on account of that persecution is a much tougher legal hurdle for the Tribe. By the time of the show the Empire and its military had long since been dismantled, which means the major threat to their existence had arguably been neutralized.
In response, the Tribe would argue that the Imperial military hasn’t been fully swept away, particularly in the far reaches of the galaxy. We’ve seen evidence of this so far in the show, with The Client commanding a number of Imperial troops. Mandalore similarly lies in the Outer Rim, far from the reach of New Republic authorities, which makes it plausible that a dangerous Imperial remnant still operates there. Simply alleging that Imperials are likely still operating around Mandalore would not be enough to meet their legal burden. It would be incumbent upon the Tribe to offer tangible evidence of the threat posed by Imperial remnant forces.
With the New Republic now governing the galaxy, Mandalorians would also need to prove that the government was unwilling or unable to protect their people. Under the INA, an applicant must show more than the government’s mere difficulty in controlling private behavior, such as that of Imperial remnant forces. Similarly, the mere fact that a country has problems effectively policing certain crimes is not enough to qualify one as a refugee. Considering the devastation Mandalore endured at the Empire’s hand, the Tribe might present evidence that Mandalore’s government remains in tatters following the galactic civil war, with no organized law enforcement or military force in place to protect its citizens. Presenting the planet as a lawless place with a completely defunct government would make for a powerful argument in favor of refugee status. The Tribe could present a similar argument about the New Republic, who clearly lack the resources to do much outside the Core.
With so many unanswered questions about Mandalore, the Tribe’s legal fate rests on their ability to fill in those gaps in evidence. My personal legal advice would be to forgo the time consuming refugee process and instead mount the sort of massive Mandalorian assault to retake the planet that we’re all dying to see.
How do you atone for the sin of turning a child over to fascists for medical experimentation that would be a war crime? In the Mandalorian’s case, you go save the kid in a way that makes Clint Eastwood in Unforgiving look restrained.
Spoilers ahead for The Mandalorian, Chapter 3, The Sin.
Did the Mandalorian have a Duty to Rescue Child from the Imperial Remnant?
The law does not impose a duty to rescue a stranger absent a special relationship. Moreover, there is no duty to protect others from the criminal acts of third parties. Folsom v. Burger King, 135 Wn. 2d 658, 674-75 (Wash. 1998), citing W. PAGE KEETON ET AL., PROSSER AND KEETON ON THE LAW OF TORTS § 56 (5th ed. 1984) and Hutchins v. 1001 Fourth Ave. Assocs., 116 Wn.2d 217, 223 (1991).
A “special relationship” can arise when one party is entrusted with the well-being of another individual. Folsom, *675, citing Lauritzen v. Lauritzen, 74 Wn. App. 432, 440, 874 P.2d 861 (1994). One of those situations is when someone has a custodial relationship to another. Stangle v. Fireman’s Fund Ins. Co., 198 Cal.App.3d 971, 974-75 (Cal. Ct. App. 1988), and Rest.2d Torts, § 314A.
The Mandalorian arguably had developed a custodial relationship with the Child based on the following events: finding the Child; protecting the Child from IG-11; protecting the Child from the Trandoshan bounty hunters; and refusing the Jawa offer to take the Child in exchange for the stolen parts to the Razor Crest. During this entire series of events, the Mandalorian had a custodial relationship with the Child. Moreover, the Mandalorian’s actions arguably put him “in loco parentis” to the Child, which is when “to a person who has put himself in the situation of a lawful parent by assuming the obligations incident to the parental relation without going through the formalities necessary to legal adoption.” Fuller v. Fuller, 247 A.2d 767, 770 (D.C. 1968), citing Niewiadomski v. United States, 159 F.2d 683, 686 (6th Cir. 1947), cert. denied, 331 U.S. 850, 67 S.Ct. 1730, 91 L.Ed. 1859. Moreover, “in loco parentis” only arises when someone is “willing to assume all the obligations and to receive all the benefits associated with one standing as a natural parent to a child.” Id.
The Mandalorian provided the Child safety and security while the Child was in his care. Moreover, the only time the Child cried was when Stormtroopers took the Child away for medical experimentation. Based upon the above series of events, The Mandalorian had developed a “special relationship” with the Child, which mandated rescuing the Child from the Imperial Remnant.
Was the Mandalorian’s Raid on the Imperials Justified under the Defense of Others?
Yoda said to Luke Skywalker, “A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never for attack.” The Mandalorian did not get that memo. Moreover, an attack on an aggressor upon another could justify an attack upon the aggressor under the defense of others. The question is whether the defense of others justified the Mandalorian raiding an Imperial compound to rescue the Child.
A person has engaged in perfect defense of others – and is not guilty of homicide – if he kills a person with, “an honest and reasonable belief in the need to defend himself or others from great bodily injury or death.” People v. Garcia, B259708, at *6-7 (Cal. Ct. App. Dec. 28, 2016), citing People v. Valenzuela 199 Cal.App.4th 1214, 1227 (2011), quoting People v. Flannel (1979) 25 Cal.3d 668, 674-675; § 197, subd. 3. The subjective belief of danger negates the malice necessary to make the homicide murder, which then turns to the issue of whether that belief was reasonable. Garcia, citing People v. Rodriguez 53 Cal.App.4th 1250, 1269 (1997).
Did the Mandalorian have an honest and reasonable belief that he needed to defend the Child from the Imperials? The Mandalorian watched with his infrared scope, that also picked up audio, a conversation between the Client and Dr. Pershing directing the Doctor to quickly extract the necessary material from the Child because the Client could no longer guarantee Dr. Pershing’s safety. Coupled with every Bounty Hunter having been retained by the Client to terminate the Child, the Mandalorian did have an honest and reasonable belief the Child was in mortal danger from the Client having Dr. Pershing conduct a medical procedure that could kill the Child. This reasonable belief would negate the malice required for murdering fourteen Stormtroopers and makes his use of force justifiable in order to save the Child.
Let’s not forget the Imperials were the ones who had blown up planets and waged wars on civilian populations in their Doctrine of Fear. It would be unreasonable to not see them as an imminent threat to anyone in their custody.
Self Defense Against Bounty Hunters
The entire Bounty Hunters Guild all had tracking fobs activate after the Mandalorian rescued the Child from the Imperials. This resulted in the Bounty Hunters confronting the Mandalorian and a shootout with at least sixteen other Bounty Hunters.
The doctrine of self-defense requires a person to reasonably believe that their safety was endangered. Over a dozen Bounty Hunters surrounded the Mandalorian. The Client had retained those very same Bounty Hunters to kill the Child. Moreover, Greef Karga had stated earlier the other Bounty Hunters wanted the Mandalorian dead for his success in finding the Child. Furthermore, during the shootout Karga also stated a threat to kill the Mandalorian and strip his body for parts. There was more than enough of a reasonable belief for the Mandalorian to fear for his life, and that of the Child, for him to claim self-defense in his gunfight with the Bounty Hunters.
“I’ve been working on this heap a long time. Way before the war. We refit and rebuilt ships. Best in the galaxy. Then came the Empire. And engineers became scrappers. The workers just started getting worked. But we all know the truth. We’re just too afraid to say it. To the Empire, we’re all just expendable.“
Prauf, Jedi: Fallen Order
The expository first level of Jedi: Fallen Order takes place on the world of Bracca, a junkyard planet covered in derelict vessels waiting for salvage and demolition. The story finds our protagonist, padawan-in-hiding Cal Kestis, living as a scrapper and chumming around with his colleague, a kindly older alien named Prauf. After Cal instinctively uses the Force to save Prauf from a harrowing industrial accident, their crew is rounded up for inspection by a squad of Imperial Jedi hunters led by the Second Sister. When Prauf is foolhardy enough to stand up to the Second Sister and deliver the above-quoted speech to his fellow coworkers, Prauf is subjected to an extreme form of retaliatory workplace discipline: let’s call it “termination.”
In a less fascist society, Prauf’s challenge to the conditions of his employment may have been subject to legal protections that would have prevented or provided a remedy for his termination. Fortunately, issue-spotting this fact pattern is infinitely less difficult than catching a rope to cross a gap in Fallen Order…
Free Speech
First, the Second Sister’s style of employee discipline may have violated Prauf’s constitutional rights. Prauf’s dialogue implies that the Empire had taken control of the Bracca scrapyards, which may have transformed the employer into a governmental entity. The First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution prevents the government from abridging the right to free speech, subject to some very limited exceptions. While the First Amendment does not apply to private employers, public employees enjoy full constitutional free speech protections in their government workplace.
Obviously, an authoritarian regime like the Empire would not extend free speech rights to anyone, including the regime’s employees. But if Prauf had been an employee of a more democratic governmental agency or other public employers, disciplinary retaliation against him for expressing his views would violate fundamental constitutional rights.
Raising concerns about workplace safety
Other than constitutional free speech protections, alternative sources of labor law could have protected Prauf’s challenge to the working conditions at the Bracca scrapyards. For example, Prauf’s remarks about employees’ expendability and about workers being “worked” may be construed as complaints about the hazardous working conditions faced by scrappers, particularly in light of his earlier peril and Cal’s improvident heroics.
The federal Occupational Safety and Health Act protects employees from employer retaliation for engaging in protected activities under that statute. Specifically, OHSA prohibits employers from discharging or discriminating against employees who have filed complaints or have testified in OHSA-related investigations. 29 U.S.C. § 660(c)(1). This protection extends to employees who express concerns to management about occupational safety. 29 C.F.R. § 1977.9(c); see Marshall v. Springville Poultry Farm, Inc., 445 F. Supp. 2 (M.D. Pa. 1977) (adopting Labor Department’s regulatory interpretation that complaint to employer is protected activity for purposes of § 660(c)(1)). Thus, if Prauf were in any condition to do so after his termination, he could certainly file a complaint with the Department of Labor, which could then seek a remedy on his behalf for the employer’s retaliatory conduct in violation of OSHA.
“Mutual aid and protection”
Additionally, the recent Rise of the Resistance novel, which takes place decades after the events in Jedi: Fallen Order, tells us that the workers of Bracca’s scrapyards are unionized by the Bracca Guild of Scrappers, Union Local 476. But it seems unlikely that the Empire would permit workers to organize, so the Bracca workforce was probably not unionized at the time of Prauf’s speech.
In any event, the National Labor Relations Act protects the right of workers at both unionized and non-unionized private workplaces to engage in “concerted activity . . . for mutual aid and protection.” 29 U.S.C. § 157. This provision of the NLRA does not require current union representation of the employee and covers a broad range of activities that are focused on improving collective terms and conditions of employment. See, e.g., Modern Motors v. NLRB, 198 F.2d 925, 926 (8th Cir. 1952). Importantly, the NLRA does not protect an individual’s expression of a personal complaint about an employer, even if the complaint is addressed to a group of fellow employees, unless the evidence suggests that the speaker intended the complaint to inspire others to organize the workforce to improve working conditions. Mushroom Transp. Co. v. NLRB, 330 F.2d 683, 685 (3d Cir. 1964) (recognizing that preliminary discussions may amount to concerted activity if the speaker intended group action as a consequence).
Here, the employer would likely argue that Prauf’s speech to his coworkers about their poor treatment was not intended to inspire collective action, but was rather intended as a smokescreen to distract the Inquisitors from their search for Cal. While Cal would personally consider Prauf’s conduct as “aid and protection,” it may be a stretch to characterize this as a preliminary discussion of organizing their workforce.
On the other hand, Prauf could argue that the Inquisitor’s intimidation of the scrappers was the final straw that inspired him to speak up and assert their collective rights on behalf of the group: “But we all know the truth. We’re just too afraid to say it. To the Empire… we’re all just expendable.”
Prauf’s termination is just the first step in Cal’s heroic journey, but finding the courage to speak up and resist oppressive conditions is at the center of all Star Wars stories. Prauf embodies the same heroism you would expect of any Jedi… and in a way that is a bit more relatable to all of us working stiffs here on Earth.
Jawas: Disgusting creatures who a certain golden protocol droid can’t abide. C-3PO’s opinion of Jawa cleanliness aside, their reputation as enterprising scavengers is legendary in the galaxy far far away. However, Jawas don’t always acquire their treasured junk in strictly the most legal of ways. In the second episode of The Mandalorian, the Mandalorian learns firsthand about the Jawas’ preferred procurement method: Brazen theft.
After securing the cutest bounty in the galaxy, our intrepid…hero?…makes the long trek back to his ship, the Razor Crest, only to find it being ransacked and stripped clean by a group of Jawas. With his only ride off the planet being disassembled before his very eyes, the Mandalorian does what any well-adjusted member of a galactic warrior race would do: He opens fire with his rifle, disintegrating several of the diminutive thieves.
Despite being one of the funniest scenes in recent Star Wars history, could the Mandalorian resort to deadly force to protect his ship?
Darth Vader should have ABSOLUTELY allowed disintegrations in The Empire Strikes Back.
At first glance, the Mandalorian seemingly has a compelling case for opening fire on the Jawas. He’s on a dangerous planet escorting a relatively defenseless baby and suddenly finds himself outnumbered by the Jawas, who are clearly armed and in the middle of committing a brazen crime.
But under the law you unfortunately can’t just disintegrate your way out of all your problems. When it comes to using deadly force, the law is especially restrictive, limiting the circumstances in which you can kill another person. These rules are in place for a good reason, since we don’t want armed citizens running around acting like Han Solo in the Mos Eisley Cantina.
Virtually every state in the U.S. allows the use force to protect yourself or another person. However, given the high value placed on human life, the use deadly force is considered a last resort. For example, in Pennsylvania, you may use deadly force to defend yourself or another if you reasonably believe that such force is necessary to prevent great bodily harm or death. That reasonable belief requirement sets an intentionally high bar for using deadly force.
Here, even though the Mandalorian was heavily outnumbered and had a small (adorable) alien baby in tow, he wouldn’t be able to convincingly argue that he disintegrated in self-defense. Before opening fire, he was a good distance from the Jawas to the point that he needed to use a scope to see what they were up to. While some of the Jawas may have been armed, they carried short range ion weaponsand were not firing towards him. In fact, the Jawas don’t make any threatening moves toward the Mandalorian until he starts his disintegration spree. It’s therefore going to be nearly impossible for the Mandalorian to claim some form of self-defense to justify his actions.
The Mandalorian graciously went straight Oprah on the local Jawa clan.
But what about defending the Razor Crest? It’s clear that the Mandalorian isn’t vaporizing poor Jawas because he thinks he’s in danger, he does it in order to protect his ship. On it’s face, this reaction seems rational. After all, he manages to catch the Jawas in the act of stealing a large amount of his property, including items from within his ship and large chunks of the ship itself. More importantly, the Razor Crest is his only way off the dangerous planet. Given those factors, shouldn’t he be able to protect it at all costs?
Although those are seemingly compelling reasons to use deadly force, the Mandalorian is stepping into some serious legal poodoo by doing so. While the law recognizes the inherent value in defending life, the idea of hurting or killing another person over a piece of property simply isn’t acceptable or legal in most places. In fact, only Texas law allows the use of deadly force to protect tangible movable property. That means that in 49 out of 50 states, it wouldn’t matter how valuable or important the Razor Crest is—disintegrating Jawas to protect it would not be a justified killing.
Even if Arvala-7, the planet shown in episode 2, uses a version of Texas law (which, given what we’ve seen of the planet, isn’t so far-fetched), the Mandalorian would still be in hot water. Despite its permissive nature, Texas law still has restrictions on the use of deadly force to defend property. Although Texas law allows the use of deadly force to prevent the commission of a theft, it requires that the theft be at nighttime. That fact might seem like a minor technicality, but it’s an important limiting factor in the statute. While I’m no expert in the planetary day/night cycle of Arvala-7, the Mandalorian confronts the Jawas in broad daylight. That means not even the law of the great state of Texas will protect the Mandalorian in this scenario.
All judges shall henceforth be required to work this quote into all hearings and trials.
Given the Mandalorian’s serious legal predicament, he can only hope that he gets a judge like C-3PO, whose disdain for Jawas clearly outweighs his commitment to law and order. Alternatively, the New Republic could rally around a change in the law, making for deadly force to defend property, so long as it is done hilariously by way of disintegration.
It is one thing to scavenge and another to steal someone’s personal property. In The Mandalorian episodes The Child, a group of Jawas in a Sandcrawler were caught stripping the Razer Crest for parts. Multiple issues explode out of this incident.
Grand Theft Jawas
The Razer Crest was the personal property of The Mandalorian. The vehicle was parked on the planet Arvala-7. The Jawas worked collectively to strip the Razer Crest of parts, its outer hull, engine parts, equipment, and the Mandalorian’s weapons locker.
Grand theft is when a person takes real or personal property of another with a value over $950 or when property is taken from an automobile. Cal. Pen. Code § 487(a) and (d)(1). While the interstellar exchange on Beskar is unknown, the value of the Razer Crest and the equipment onboard is easily over $950 in value. The Jawas committed Grand Theft with their stripping and pillaging of the ship, which understandably upset the Mandalorian.
Trading With Jawas for the Return of Stolen Property
The Jawas wanted to “trade” something of value in exchange for the parts to the Razer Crest. Normal contract negotiations include an offer, terms, acceptance, consideration, and performance. This is rather insulting when the trade is for the return of personal property. This raises the issue of economic duress, which is when “a wrongful act which is sufficiently coercive to cause a reasonably prudent person faced with no reasonable alternative to succumb to the perpetrator’s pressure.” Andrieu v. Aquantia Corp., H044638, at *13-14 (Cal. Ct. App. Nov. 21, 2018). Moreover, a party can rescind a contract if consent was “obtained through duress, menace, fraud, or undue influence.” CA Civ. Code § 1689(b)(1). Furthermore, statutory duress is when there is the unlawful detention of a person’s property. CA Civ. Code § 1569.
The Jawas demanding the Mandalorian to retrieve “The Egg” from a vicious wild animal in order to recover his personal property meets every meaning of “duress” in contract law. The Jawas found bold new ways to benefit from their lawless behavior, the most extreme in making someone risk their life for breakfast.
Adventures in Babysitting
The Mandalorian took his infant Target on a mission to storm the Jawas’ high speed Sandcrawler and on the worst egg hunt imaginable. This is in addition to fighting off Trandoshans and a gunfight with Jawas. Has the Mandalorian engaged in child endangerment?
California defines child endangerment as the following:
Any person who, under circumstances or conditions likely to produce great bodily harm or death, willfully causes or permits any child to suffer, or inflicts thereon unjustifiable physical pain or mental suffering, or having the care or custody of any child, willfully causes or permits the person or health of that child to be injured, or willfully causes or permits that child to be placed in a situation where his or her person or health is endangered, shall be punished by imprisonment in a county jail not exceeding one year, or in the state prison for two, four, or six years.
Cal. Pen. Code § 273a(a).
Whether there has been child endangerment is highly fact specific. The Target’s bassinet following the Mandalorian while he attempted to board the Sandcrawler could have produced “great bodily harm” if the Jawas had fired upon the bassinet. The Jawas also deployed more medieval countermeasures of throwing objects at the Mandalorian, which could have caused injury if directed at the Target. However, since the bassinet was out of the line of fire from the bassinet, one can argue it was safer for the bassinet to follow the Mandalorian instead of being left alone in the desert.
The Mandalorian made the least dangerous decision by taking the Target with him to secure the Egg. Given the options to recover the parts were either leave the Target with Kuiil, who was with the Jawas who had expressed interest in the Target, the Mandalorian would have been rightfully concerned for the Target’s safety in the event more bounty hunters attacked or the Jawas turned on Kuiil. While leaving the Target to the side while confronting a large animal was not Plan A, it was the least bad option available to the Mandalorian.
Long, long, ago, in a courthouse far away, it was said that the freedom of contract be not lightly interfered with. Baltimore Ohio c. Railway v. Voigt, 176 U.S. 498, 504-5 (1900). The Mandalorian is a story with parties entering contracts upon contracts. However, what contracts in the first episode were valid and which were not?
The Enforceability of an Oral Contract Entered During a Shootout
The Mandalorian met IG-11 while the droid started an armed assault on a compound holding the Target for their respective bounties. This created an awkward meeting, as the Bounty Hunters’ Creed states that No Hunter Shall Interfere With Another’s Hunt. The Mandalorian made the offer that they split the reward for capturing the Target, to which IG-11 agreed. What was not agreed upon was IG-11’s counter offer to acquire the Reputation Credits for the hunt.
The basics of contract formation are 1) Offer; 2) Acceptance; 3) Consideration; and 4) Performance. Moreover, “All persons are capable of contracting, except minors, persons of unsound mind, and persons deprived of civil rights.” Cal. Civ. Code § 1556. Furthermore, the question for California courts is whether there is mutual assent between the parties, which is “manifested by an offer communicated to the offeree and an acceptance communicated to the offeror.” Donovan v. RRL Corp., 26 Cal.4th 261, 270-71 (Cal. 2001), citing 1 Witkin, Summary of Cal. Law (9th ed. 1987) Contracts, § 128, p. 153.
From the context of the shootout, the Mandalorian made an offer for he and IG-11 to work together and split the reward. IG-11 accepted this offer verbally and by conduct. However, there was no mutual assent on the issue of IG-11 getting the Reputation Credits for the hunt. While that term was not agreed upon, a court could find there was a contract between the parties to split the profit from the hunt.
IG-11’s Bounty Claim Violated Public Policy
Whoever contracted with IG-11 to kill the Target violated public policy and the Bounty Hunter’s Creed. The Mandalorian was right to take protective measures against IG-11.
In cases where the acquisition had been taken alive, that “choice” could not be altered. To kill an acquisition in the course of the hunt was one thing, but to purposely kill an unarmed, helpless being already subdued and unable to resist was seen as simple slaughter and wanton butchery. An acquisition “killed while attempting to escape” however, would be an entirely different matter altogether.
The Mandalorian had a contract to capture the Target; IG-11 had a contract to kill the target. IG-11’s contract to purposely kill an unarmed and helpless being was a gross violation of the Bounty Hunters’ Creed. Whoever hired IG-11 did not want a Bounty Hunter, they wanted a butcher.
A contract to kill someone is not the work of a bail bondsman, but a murder-for-hire contract. It is grossly illegal to contract to kill someone, especially an infant. The legal term is solicitation. Anyone who solicits another to commit murder can be sentenced to state prison for at least three and up to nine years. CA Penal Code § 653f. This raises significant issues as to what kind of puck was issued with a kill order on an infant, the work of a bail bondsmen is to bring someone in, not play hit man.
Contracts cannot violate public policy, which was defined by Lord Brougham, “that no one can lawfully do anything which has a tendency to be injurious to the public welfare.” Maryland C. Co. v. Fidelity Etc. Co., 71 Cal.App. 492, 496-97 (Cal. Ct. App. 1925). A contract is void against public policy if it “clearly contravenes that which has been declared by statutory enactment or by judicial decisions to be public policy, or unless the agreement manifestly tends in some way to injure the public.” Spangenberg v. Spangenberg, 19 Cal.App. 439, 446-47 (Cal. Ct. App. 1912). As murder is clearly defined as being illegal and against public policy, one cannot enter a contract to murder another person.
