The Fourth Amendment Requires the Whole Story: Barnes, Crosby, and the Limits of Judicial Factfinding

The Supreme Court Rejected Artificial Limits on Police-Force Analysis. A Suffolk County Excessive-Force Decision Demonstrates Why the Entire Encounter—and the Jury’s Role—Matter.

I. An Arrest Does Not Authorize Unnecessary Violence

The constitutional authority to arrest an individual does not confer an unrestricted license to use physical force against that person. Yet the distinction between a lawful seizure and an unreasonable application of force remains one of the most consequential issues in police-misconduct litigation. Officers frequently defend their conduct by emphasizing the behavior that precipitated an arrest, including flight, resistance, noncompliance, or suspected criminal activity. Those circumstances may justify an officer’s initial intervention, but they do not necessarily justify every subsequent exercise of governmental force. The Fourth Amendment requires an objective assessment of the force employed under the circumstances confronting the officer, not a retrospective endorsement of everything that occurred because the individual initially violated the law.

That distinction lies at the center of Crosby v. County of Suffolk, No. 19-cv-3849 (DLI) (RML) (E.D.N.Y. Oct. 22, 2026), in which United States District Judge Dora L. Irizarry denied Suffolk County Police Officer Michael Murname’s motion for partial summary judgment on an excessive-force claim brought under 42 U.S.C. § 1983. The decision concerns an encounter involving a man who admittedly violated an order of protection, fled from police, and was subsequently apprehended and handcuffed. Once restrained inside a police vehicle, however, the circumstances changed substantially. The constitutional controversy no longer concerned whether officers possessed lawful grounds to arrest Abraham Crosby. It concerned whether the physical force allegedly employed against him after his apprehension was objectively reasonable.

On April 4, 2018, Crosby went to a residence in Coram, New York, in violation of an existing order of protection. According to the evidentiary record described by the court, Crosby was retrieving clothing when a police officer approached and questioned him about a reported disturbance. Crosby fled, but officers eventually apprehended him, placed him in handcuffs, and seated him in the passenger side of a patrol vehicle. Those facts were not peripheral to the constitutional analysis. Crosby’s violation of the protective order supplied the circumstances underlying police intervention, while his flight explained the officers’ initial efforts to secure him. Neither fact, however, resolved the separate question of whether subsequent force was justified after officers had already accomplished the arrest.

While seated in the patrol vehicle, Crosby received a telephone call from his mother. Murname demanded that Crosby surrender his cellphone, and Crosby refused. According to Crosby’s deposition testimony, Murname grabbed him by the neck and repeated the demand. Crosby cried out that the officer was hurting him, prompting Murname to release his grip and move to the passenger side of the vehicle. Crosby testified that Murname then forced his head downward between his legs, held him in that position by the neck, and continued demanding the cellphone. After the officer obtained the telephone, Crosby grabbed a police radio and announced that he was being assaulted. Murname retrieved the radio and directed him to calm down. Crosby subsequently submitted a sworn declaration alleging that Murname also struck him twice in the back of the head while he remained handcuffed.

These allegations present more than a routine disagreement about the amount of force necessary to accomplish an arrest. They require consideration of the circumstances existing when each challenged application of force occurred, including Crosby’s physical restraint, his refusal to surrender the cellphone, the officer’s knowledge of what Crosby possessed, and the absence of evidence that Crosby presented an immediate threat to anyone’s physical safety. The disputed punches introduce an additional question of gratuitous force against a restrained individual. Whether Crosby’s allegations are ultimately credited remains a question for the factfinder. But the existence of a lawful arrest cannot eliminate the constitutional significance of what allegedly happened afterward.

The governing constitutional framework originated in Graham v. Connor, 490 U.S. 386 (1989), which established that claims alleging excessive force during an arrest or other seizure must be analyzed under the Fourth Amendment’s objective-reasonableness standard. The Supreme Court directed courts to consider the severity of the offense, whether the individual posed an immediate threat to officers or others, and whether the individual actively resisted arrest or attempted to evade arrest through flight. These factors inform the broader inquiry into the totality of the circumstances; they do not operate as a mechanical formula that automatically determines whether police conduct was lawful.

More recently, the Supreme Court clarified the temporal scope of that analysis in Barnes v. Felix, 605 U.S. 73 (2025). In a unanimous decision delivered on May 15, 2025, Justice Elena Kagan rejected the Fifth Circuit’s moment-of-threat rule, which limited judicial consideration of an officer’s use of deadly force to the circumstances existing at the precise moment the officer perceived a threat. The Court held that the Fourth Amendment demands consideration of all relevant circumstances, including events preceding the ultimate use of force. Although Barnes arose from a police shooting, its reasoning expressly encompasses other applications of police force. The decision did not replace Graham. It reaffirmed and clarified the constitutional inquiry that Graham established.

The significance of Barnes extends beyond the rejection of a particular evidentiary timeframe. The Supreme Court recognized that an officer’s assessment of danger cannot always be understood without examining the events that preceded the challenged force. Earlier conduct may explain why an officer reasonably perceived a threat, just as it may demonstrate why the same conduct presented no immediate danger. The temporal scope of the analysis therefore cannot be restricted arbitrarily to exclude relevant information. At the same time, the Court did not hold that every preceding event carries equal weight or that an officer automatically becomes liable because earlier tactical decisions contributed to an encounter. The inquiry remains objective, context-sensitive, and dependent upon the circumstances known to the officer.

This clarification bears directly upon the analytical framework applicable to Crosby’s allegations. His earlier flight was relevant, but so was his subsequent apprehension. His refusal to surrender the cellphone was relevant, but so were his handcuffs and confinement inside the police vehicle. The officer’s effort to obtain the phone was relevant, but the nature and degree of force allegedly used to accomplish that objective required independent constitutional scrutiny. A complete analysis cannot disregard Crosby’s earlier conduct merely because officers eventually restrained him. Equally, it cannot treat that conduct as a continuing justification for force without examining whether the circumstances supporting its use remained present.

Judge Irizarry’s October 22, 2026 decision cited Graham without addressing Barnes, notwithstanding that the Supreme Court had issued the latter decision approximately seventeen months earlier. That omission warrants attention because Barnes represents the Court’s most recent clarification of the temporal dimensions of Fourth Amendment reasonableness. Nevertheless, the substance of Judge Irizarry’s analysis remained consistent with the totality-of-the-circumstances approach. She considered Crosby’s original conduct, acknowledged his flight, and then examined the materially different circumstances surrounding the subsequent allegations of force. The court did not commit the temporal restriction condemned in Barnes. The omission is therefore best understood as a missed opportunity to ground the analysis expressly in the Supreme Court’s latest governing explanation, rather than proof that the district court applied an unconstitutional standard.

Indeed, Judge Irizarry recognized that each of the three Graham factors weighed against granting summary judgment. The court characterized the underlying protective-order violation, under the circumstances presented, as a misdemeanor offense. It further observed that nothing in the record established that Crosby posed an immediate safety threat when Murname allegedly used force against him. Although Crosby initially fled, his flight had ended before the challenged conduct occurred. He was already handcuffed and seated inside a patrol vehicle. The record likewise did not establish that he was attempting to escape or resist arrest at that time. Given those circumstances, the court concluded that a reasonable jury could determine that the force employed to obtain Crosby’s cellphone was unjustified.

That conclusion has particular significance because the court identified a potentially unconstitutional use of force independently of Crosby’s allegation that Murname punched him twice. Even without resolving whether those blows occurred, the evidence concerning the officer’s handling of Crosby inside the patrol vehicle presented a sufficient basis for a jury to examine the objective reasonableness of the force used. The court did not declare Crosby’s refusal to surrender the telephone legally irrelevant, nor did it determine the ultimate merits of his excessive-force claim. Instead, it recognized that the competing circumstances required factual evaluation that could not properly be resolved in Murname’s favor as a matter of law.

The broader constitutional issue concerns the relationship between lawful police authority and the limits imposed upon its exercise. Officers may have legitimate reasons to apprehend, restrain, and maintain control over individuals who violate the law. But the Fourth Amendment does not permit courts to collapse the justification for an arrest into a blanket justification for everything an officer subsequently does. The proportionality and reasonableness of force must be examined against the particular governmental interests present when that force is employed, informed by the relevant history of the encounter. The legal authority to take someone into custody does not extinguish that person’s constitutional protections upon handcuffing.

Crosby illustrates the importance of preserving those distinctions, while Barnes supplies the Supreme Court’s contemporary clarification of the required analytical framework. Together, they underscore why excessive-force litigation demands a careful examination of the complete encounter rather than selective reliance on whichever events favor one party’s characterization. But identifying the correct constitutional framework resolves only part of the problem. The equally consequential question is who determines what happened when the parties’ sworn accounts differ—and whether a federal judge may reject a plaintiff’s testimony as unpersuasive before the case reaches a jury.

II. Rule 56 Does Not Authorize Judicial Credibility Determinations

The most consequential aspect of Crosby v. County of Suffolk is not simply that Judge Dora L. Irizarry denied summary judgment on a Fourth Amendment excessive-force claim. It is that she refused to permit the defendant police officer to transform an alleged omission in deposition testimony into a judicial determination that the plaintiff’s subsequent sworn declaration was unworthy of belief. That distinction goes to the constitutional and procedural integrity of federal civil-rights litigation. Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 56 authorizes courts to determine whether the admissible evidentiary record presents a genuine dispute requiring trial. It does not authorize judges to decide which witness is more credible, determine which competing narrative is more persuasive, or disregard otherwise competent testimony merely because the judge considers its timing or detail suspicious.

The controversy arose from Crosby’s sworn declaration dated October 14, 2024, in which he alleged that Officer Michael Murname punched him twice in the back of the head while he remained handcuffed inside a Suffolk County police vehicle. During his earlier deposition, Crosby had described Murname grabbing him by the neck, forcing his head downward between his legs, and taking his cellphone. However, Crosby did not specifically testify during that deposition that Murname had also punched him. Murname sought to exploit that omission by arguing that the subsequent declaration contradicted Crosby’s prior account and therefore could not establish a genuine dispute of material fact. The defense maintained that Crosby’s newly articulated allegation did not fit the narrative he had previously supplied, effectively inviting the court to treat the declaration as an impermissible attempt to manufacture an evidentiary dispute after discovery.

The governing legal principle is established, but its application requires considerably more precision than the defendant’s argument acknowledged. In Gorzynski v. JetBlue Airways Corp., 596 F.3d 93, 104 (2d Cir. 2010), the Second Circuit recognized that a party generally cannot defeat summary judgment by submitting an affidavit that contradicts earlier deposition testimony. The doctrine prevents litigants from creating artificial factual disputes through materially inconsistent sworn statements. However, the same decision recognizes that a subsequent affidavit may properly explain or amplify prior deposition testimony without becoming inadmissible or insufficient for summary judgment purposes. The distinction between contradiction and amplification is not semantic. It determines whether a court applies Rule 56 as an evidentiary screening mechanism or improperly uses it to resolve the credibility of a witness whose testimony belongs before a jury.

Judge Irizarry examined the actual substance of Crosby’s deposition rather than accepting the defense’s characterization of his later declaration. During the deposition, defense counsel asked broad questions requesting that Crosby explain everything that happened during the encounter. Crosby responded with a general narrative describing the officer’s conduct. The court found that those questions, including counsel’s subsequent inquiry about whether Crosby had anything else to add, did not establish that Crosby’s account was necessarily exhaustive. Nor did the earlier testimony contain an affirmative denial that Murname had punched him. The later declaration introduced an additional allegation, but it did not directly negate any factual proposition Crosby had previously asserted under oath. That distinction was decisive because the absence of a particular detail from an earlier narrative does not, without more, establish an irreconcilable inconsistency.

The court’s reasoning accords with Langman Fabrics v. Graff Californiawear, Inc., 160 F.3d 106, 112 (2d Cir. 1998), in which the Second Circuit distinguished a more detailed subsequent account from one that actually contradicted earlier testimony. A witness may provide additional factual particulars without necessarily disavowing or altering the essential substance of the original account. The operative inquiry is whether the later testimony is genuinely incompatible with what the witness previously stated, not whether the later account contains information the opposing party would have preferred to discover earlier. Otherwise, almost any subsequent elaboration could be recast as a contradiction, giving litigants an incentive to use broad deposition questions as a means of foreclosing additional evidence rather than investigating the underlying facts.

That does not mean omissions are invariably immaterial or that subsequent declarations must automatically be accepted. An omission may become probative of inconsistency when the earlier testimony contains an express denial, when the witness unequivocally excludes the alleged event, or when the later account cannot reasonably coexist with the earlier description. Likewise, Rule 56 does not require courts to credit conclusory allegations lacking an adequate evidentiary foundation. The legal problem arises when a court substitutes an assessment of plausibility for the required examination of actual inconsistency. A declaration does not become contradictory simply because it is more damaging to the defendant than the testimony previously elicited. The relevant distinction must arise from the content of the sworn statements, not from judicial suspicion concerning why the additional information appeared when it did.

Murname’s argument crossed that boundary when he contended that Crosby’s allegation of being punched was not believable because it did not fit the narrative presented during his deposition. Judge Irizarry rejected that contention, invoking McClellan v. Smith, 439 F.3d 137, 144 (2d Cir. 2006), for the established principle that credibility assessments belong to the jury rather than the court deciding summary judgment. The defendant’s objection did not identify an unavoidable contradiction between two sworn accounts. Instead, it asked the court to draw an adverse credibility inference from Crosby’s failure to provide the same level of detail on both occasions. That invitation sought precisely the kind of factual determination Rule 56 prohibits.

The distinction is particularly important in police-misconduct litigation, where the parties frequently describe the same encounter from sharply conflicting perspectives. An officer may characterize physical contact as a necessary response to resistance, while the individual subjected to that force may describe it as unnecessary violence. Depositions may reveal omissions, differences in sequence, uncertainty about duration, or additional details that emerge during subsequent examination. Those circumstances can provide legitimate subjects for cross-examination and credibility challenges at trial. They do not automatically authorize a court to eliminate testimony from the evidentiary record. When an alleged inconsistency is capable of reasonable explanation and does not establish an actual contradiction, the factfinder must ordinarily determine what significance, if any, the discrepancy carries.

Importantly, Judge Irizarry did not disregard the procedural requirements governing the parties’ Rule 56.1 submissions to reach that conclusion. The court examined the parties’ statements and supporting evidentiary citations, determined that the eight paragraphs in Murname’s Rule 56.1 statement were uncontroverted, and declined to credit an unsupported objection to one of those paragraphs. Conversely, the court observed that Murname had not filed a responsive counterstatement addressing Crosby’s additional factual assertions through citations to admissible evidence. Nevertheless, the court did not treat the parties’ submissions as an exercise in procedural arithmetic. It examined the evidentiary record and distinguished supported factual assertions from conclusory allegations and legal argument.

This approach matters because Rule 56.1 exists to organize the material facts relevant to summary judgment, not to replace the substantive inquiry required by Rule 56. A movant may establish numerous uncontested historical facts without establishing entitlement to judgment where other material facts remain genuinely disputed. Here, Crosby’s violation of an order of protection, his flight from police, and his eventual apprehension did not resolve whether Murname subsequently employed excessive force. Similarly, the absence of a properly supported objection to portions of the defendant’s statement did not eliminate the evidentiary significance of Crosby’s deposition and declaration. The controlling question remained whether the record, viewed in the light most favorable to Crosby, would permit a reasonable jury to find that the officer’s conduct violated the Fourth Amendment.

The Supreme Court’s decision in Anderson v. Liberty Lobby, Inc., 477 U.S. 242, 249–55 (1986), supplies the necessary boundary between judicial evaluation and jury factfinding. Although a court must determine whether the evidence is sufficient to support a reasonable verdict for the nonmoving party, it cannot weigh competing evidence or make credibility determinations in performing that task. Evidence must be assessed under the applicable substantive burden of proof, but the court cannot choose between competing reasonable factual inferences merely because one account appears more convincing. Where the record permits a reasonable factfinder to accept the nonmovant’s supported version of events, summary judgment cannot rest upon the judge’s disagreement with that version.

The same limitation appears in Tolan v. Cotton, 572 U.S. 650, 656–60 (2014), where the Supreme Court reversed a qualified-immunity determination because the lower court had failed to adhere to the requirement that disputed facts and reasonable inferences be viewed in favor of the nonmoving party. Tolan is especially instructive because the Court applied that requirement in a police excessive-force case involving qualified immunity. The existence of an immunity defense did not authorize the judiciary to resolve factual disagreements in the officer’s favor. The proper constitutional analysis depended upon the facts that a jury reasonably could find, not the version the court considered most persuasive.

Read together, Anderson, Tolan, and Crosby establish a coherent limitation on the judicial role. The judge determines whether a genuine dispute of material fact exists. The jury determines which competing account is credible when that dispute is supported by evidence sufficient to permit a reasonable verdict. This allocation of responsibility is not a procedural technicality. It preserves the institutional distinction between deciding whether a case warrants trial and deciding what actually happened. When courts disregard competent testimony because they distrust the witness, they risk converting a preliminary adjudication into a trial without testimony, cross-examination before the factfinder, or a jury verdict.

The consequence is especially serious where a police officer’s justification for force depends upon factual assertions the plaintiff disputes. If the court credits the officer’s explanation while discounting the plaintiff’s testimony as implausible, the officer’s characterization can become the controlling factual premise before the jury ever examines the evidence. The constitutional inquiry then becomes distorted at its foundation. Instead of asking whether a reasonable jury could find the force objectively unreasonable, the court effectively decides whether it believes the plaintiff was subjected to the alleged conduct. That is a different question, governed by a different institutional responsibility, and it cannot be answered through Rule 56 merely because the defendant invokes qualified immunity.

Judge Irizarry avoided that error. She accepted neither the truth of Crosby’s disputed allegation nor the defense’s assertion that it was fabricated. She determined that the declaration did not contradict the deposition in a manner warranting exclusion and that the allegation could be considered when evaluating whether a triable factual dispute existed. Furthermore, she recognized that the evidence concerning Murname’s use of force to obtain Crosby’s cellphone independently presented a question of constitutional reasonableness. Thus, the court’s decision did not depend exclusively upon accepting the subsequently disclosed allegation of punches. It rested upon the broader evidentiary conclusion that a reasonable jury could find the challenged force unjustified under the circumstances.

The decision therefore illustrates the difference between rigorous evidentiary scrutiny and impermissible credibility adjudication. Courts must examine whether sworn statements are supported, whether alleged contradictions are genuine, and whether the evidence is legally sufficient to sustain the claims asserted. But they cannot use those responsibilities as permission to select the account they find more credible. The fact that a plaintiff’s testimony may be vulnerable to impeachment does not necessarily render it insufficient as a matter of law. Nor does a defendant obtain summary judgment merely by demonstrating that a witness’s testimony contains omissions or has become more detailed over time.

This distinction leads directly to the substantive Fourth Amendment question. Once Crosby’s competent evidence remained part of the summary judgment record, the court was required to evaluate the alleged force against the circumstances surrounding his detention. His earlier flight, subsequent restraint, possession of a cellphone, refusal to surrender it, and allegations of physical violence all bore upon that inquiry. Under Graham and the clarification supplied by Barnes, the constitutional assessment required consideration of the relevant encounter rather than an artificially selected portion of it. But that assessment also depended upon preserving the jury’s authority to determine which disputed events occurred. The next issue, therefore, is why Crosby’s status as an already-restrained individual materially affected the constitutional justification for the force allegedly employed against him.

III. The Constitutional Significance of an Already-Restrained Person

The Fourth Amendment does not permit police officers to treat an individual’s earlier misconduct as a continuing justification for physical force after the circumstances that initially warranted restraint have materially changed. An officer’s authority to pursue, apprehend, and handcuff a fleeing suspect serves identifiable governmental interests, including effectuating a lawful arrest, preventing escape, and protecting public safety. However, those interests must be evaluated against the actual circumstances confronting the officer when additional force is employed. Once an individual has been apprehended, handcuffed, and confined inside a police vehicle, the justification for subsequent force cannot rest exclusively upon the conduct that preceded the arrest. The constitutional inquiry must examine what governmental necessity remained and whether the degree of force used was objectively reasonable in relation to that necessity.

That distinction is central to Crosby, where Officer Michael Murname sought summary judgment notwithstanding evidence that the challenged force occurred after Abraham Crosby had already been restrained. Crosby’s initial conduct was not materially disputed. He entered a residence in violation of an order of protection, encountered police, and fled. Officers subsequently apprehended him, placed him in handcuffs, and seated him inside a patrol vehicle. Those circumstances explained the events leading to his detention. They did not establish that Crosby continued to present the same risk of flight or danger once police had secured him. Judge Dora L. Irizarry recognized that Crosby’s earlier conduct had to be evaluated alongside the materially different circumstances existing when Murname allegedly used force against him.

The controlling constitutional framework remains Graham, as clarified by Barnes. The three Graham factors—the severity of the underlying offense, the existence of an immediate threat, and active resistance or attempted flight—inform the assessment of objective reasonableness. Barnes reinforces that courts must examine the relevant totality of the circumstances rather than artificially limiting their consideration to the precise moment force was employed. These principles require a contextual inquiry that accounts for the progression of the encounter. An individual’s earlier flight may explain why officers pursued and restrained him, but the subsequent completion of those objectives materially affects the governmental interests supporting additional force.

The distinction is not between considering and disregarding an individual’s prior conduct. Rather, it concerns the constitutional significance assigned to that conduct after the circumstances have changed. A person who flees police may initially present a legitimate concern about escape. That concern may warrant pursuit and reasonable physical measures to accomplish an arrest. However, once officers apprehend and secure the individual, the previous attempt to flee does not establish that every subsequent application of force remains necessary. The Fourth Amendment requires courts to examine the particular force employed in relation to the conditions existing during the encounter, informed by its relevant history. The authority to arrest does not extinguish the constitutional limitations governing how officers maintain custody.

In Crosby’s case, the first Graham factor concerned the severity of the underlying offense. Judge Irizarry acknowledged that Crosby violated an order of protection by entering the residence and treated the violation, under the circumstances presented, as a misdemeanor. That determination did not trivialize the importance of enforcing protective orders, which serve essential purposes in protecting individuals from prohibited contact and potentially dangerous conduct. Nevertheless, the seriousness of enforcing those orders does not eliminate the requirement to evaluate the necessity and proportionality of force used against a detained individual. The constitutional inquiry cannot rest upon the proposition that because an arrest was justified, every subsequent exercise of force was likewise reasonable.

The question was not whether Crosby deserved to be arrested. It was whether the offense, considered together with the remaining circumstances, justified grabbing him by the neck, forcing his head downward between his legs, and allegedly striking him while he remained handcuffed. Although the severity of an offense is relevant to the constitutional assessment, it does not independently determine the legality of force. A misdemeanor does not categorically prohibit significant force, just as a felony does not automatically authorize it. The proper inquiry requires consideration of the governmental interests actually present when the officer acted, including any identifiable threats, resistance, or other circumstances warranting physical intervention.

The second Graham factor—whether Crosby posed an immediate threat to the safety of officers or others—was particularly consequential. Judge Irizarry found no indication in the evidentiary record that Crosby presented an immediate safety threat when Murname allegedly used force against him. Crosby remained handcuffed inside the patrol vehicle. Murname knew that the object he demanded was a cellphone, rather than a firearm or another apparent weapon. The record did not establish that Crosby threatened the officer with physical violence or presented an immediate danger requiring the force described in his testimony. Under those circumstances, the existence of an earlier lawful arrest did not conclusively establish the reasonableness of the subsequent physical encounter.

Crosby’s possession of a cellphone did not necessarily deprive Murname of legitimate reasons to seek control over the device. Officers may encounter circumstances involving detained individuals that warrant securing personal property for safety, evidentiary, or custodial purposes. However, the existence of a potentially lawful objective does not resolve whether the method used to accomplish it complied with the Fourth Amendment. The court did not need to decide every question concerning Murname’s authority to seize the telephone to determine that the physical force allegedly employed presented a triable constitutional issue. Even when an officer pursues a legitimate objective, the means employed remain subject to an independent reasonableness assessment.

The specific allegations illustrate why that distinction matters. Crosby testified that Murname grabbed him by the neck after he refused to surrender the cellphone. When Crosby cried out that the officer was hurting him, Murname released his grip and moved to the passenger side of the patrol vehicle. According to Crosby, Murname then forced his head downward between his legs, held him in that position by the neck, and continued demanding the telephone. These allegations concerned force applied against a person whose hands had already been restrained. Crosby’s physical confinement and limited ability to reposition himself were relevant circumstances in determining whether the officer’s actions were objectively reasonable.

Handcuffing is not an absolute constitutional dividing line beyond which every application of force becomes unlawful. A restrained person may still engage in conduct that presents a genuine safety threat or requires further reasonable physical intervention. However, restraint necessarily affects the assessment of what force the circumstances justify. A person whose hands are secured behind his back and whose movement is restricted inside a patrol vehicle does not occupy the same physical position as an individual actively fleeing police. Courts must account for that difference rather than allowing the circumstances preceding apprehension to overshadow the conditions under which subsequent force occurred.

The third Graham factor concerned active resistance or attempted flight. Crosby’s earlier flight was undisputed, but Judge Irizarry distinguished that conduct from the circumstances surrounding the challenged force. By the time Murname demanded the cellphone, Crosby had already been apprehended, handcuffed, and placed inside the vehicle. The court found no indication that Crosby was attempting to escape or resist arrest at that time. His refusal to surrender the telephone was relevant to the encounter, but it did not automatically establish that the degree of force allegedly employed was justified. The constitutional analysis required consideration of the nature of the noncompliance, the officer’s objective, and the physical response.

That distinction is important because the characterization of conduct as noncompliant does not end the Fourth Amendment inquiry. An officer cannot establish the reasonableness of force merely by demonstrating that the individual failed to obey a command. The law requires an assessment of the circumstances surrounding the command and the force used to enforce it. Noncompliance may justify reasonable measures to maintain custody or protect safety, but it does not automatically authorize physical violence disproportionate to the governmental interest involved. Where an individual is already restrained and the record does not establish an immediate threat, the necessity for additional force becomes a material constitutional question.

Crosby’s allegation that Murname punched him twice in the back of the head while he remained handcuffed presented an additional and distinct factual dispute. Judge Irizarry did not determine that those punches occurred. Rather, she recognized that Crosby’s sworn declaration, if credited, could support a finding of excessive force. The distinction preserves the separate functions of the court and jury. Whether Murname delivered the alleged blows is a question of historical fact. Whether the force, under the circumstances a jury reasonably could find, violated the Fourth Amendment is governed by the objective-reasonableness framework. A court deciding summary judgment cannot resolve the former question against the plaintiff merely because the officer disputes the allegation.

The constitutional concern surrounding unnecessary force against an already-restrained person is reflected in Cugini v. City of New York, 941 F.3d 604 (2d Cir. 2019), which examined excessive-force allegations arising from handcuffing and emphasized the importance of the circumstances surrounding the restraint. Although Cugini involved allegations of excessively tight handcuffs rather than punches or neck restraint, the decision reinforces that the Fourth Amendment continues to regulate an officer’s treatment of an individual after the initial seizure. The constitutional obligation to use objectively reasonable force does not terminate once an officer obtains physical control over the person being arrested.

The temporal analysis clarified in Barnes further demonstrates why the full progression of Crosby’s encounter mattered. The relevant circumstances included the protective-order violation, Crosby’s flight, his eventual apprehension, the application of handcuffs, his placement inside the patrol vehicle, the cellphone dispute, and the alleged physical force. None of those events could properly be excluded merely because it occurred before the precise moment of the challenged conduct. At the same time, their constitutional significance had to be evaluated in context. Crosby’s flight informed the reasons officers initially pursued him, while his subsequent restraint affected the assessment of the force allegedly employed after the arrest had been accomplished.

This is an important limitation on any attempt to invoke Barnes as though it established a categorical rule against force used following apprehension. The Supreme Court rejected an artificial temporal limitation; it did not announce that every prior police decision determines the constitutionality of later force or that every use of force against a handcuffed person is unreasonable. The objective inquiry remains grounded in the circumstances confronting the officer. What Barnes prohibits is a truncated analysis that disregards relevant events merely because they fall outside a narrowly selected timeframe. Its application therefore requires a complete examination of the encounter without transforming the individual’s earlier misconduct into a permanent justification for subsequent police conduct.

The broader problem arises when courts give controlling weight to the circumstances establishing probable cause or justifying an arrest while insufficiently examining what happened after police secured the individual. Such an approach risks substituting the legality of the seizure for the reasonableness of the force used to carry it out or maintain custody. These are related but distinct constitutional questions. An officer may possess unquestionable authority to arrest someone and nevertheless employ force that a reasonable jury could find excessive. Conversely, an individual may be handcuffed and still engage in conduct that warrants a measured physical response. The Fourth Amendment requires courts to evaluate those circumstances rather than presume that either the arrest or the restraint conclusively resolves the question.

Judge Irizarry’s analysis preserved that distinction. She acknowledged Crosby’s underlying misconduct and flight but did not allow those circumstances to dispose of his constitutional claim. Instead, she examined the absence of an immediate safety threat, Crosby’s restrained condition, the circumstances surrounding the cellphone demand, and the disputed allegation that Murname punched him. The court concluded that a reasonable jury could find the challenged force objectively unreasonable. Significantly, that conclusion did not depend entirely upon the disputed punches. The evidence concerning the officer’s use of force to obtain the cellphone independently supported denial of summary judgment.

Crosby therefore illustrates the constitutional importance of evaluating police force in relation to the circumstances actually presented, rather than treating an individual’s earlier wrongdoing as sufficient justification for everything that follows. The decision also demonstrates why the objective-reasonableness inquiry cannot be separated from the evidentiary record. The governing law supplies the constitutional standard, but the parties’ disputed accounts determine which factual circumstances a jury may ultimately find. That relationship becomes particularly consequential when a defendant officer invokes qualified immunity, because the asserted defense cannot be resolved through an assessment of constitutional reasonableness that depends upon rejecting material facts the plaintiff is entitled to have considered at summary judgment.

IV. Qualified Immunity: The Statutory Command the Federal Courts Have Refused to Confront

The most troubling aspect of qualified immunity is not that the doctrine occasionally produces unjust results. It is that the federal judiciary has constructed an additional defense to constitutional liability that Congress never expressly enacted, while failing to adequately reconcile that defense with the original language and remedial purpose of the Civil Rights Act of 1871. The contemporary debate ordinarily concerns whether government officials deserve protection from litigation, whether personal liability will discourage effective policing, and whether constitutional violations must be established through sufficiently specific judicial precedent. Those policy questions have consumed decades of judicial analysis. Yet they obscure the more fundamental inquiry: what authority did Congress confer upon the federal courts to restrict the remedy it established against government officials who violate federally protected rights?

That question cannot be answered through the present text of 42 U.S.C. § 1983 alone. Section 1 of the Civil Rights Act of 1871, ch. 22, 17 Stat. 13, contained language that no longer appears in the modern codification. After identifying persons acting under color of state law who deprive others of federally protected rights, Congress declared that such persons would be liable notwithstanding any contrary state law, statute, ordinance, regulation, custom, or usage. That provision was not an incidental expression of legislative preference. It addressed the legal mechanisms through which state officials could invoke local authority to resist federal accountability. Congress created the federal remedy against the background of state-sanctioned discrimination, official complicity, and resistance to the enforcement of Reconstruction-era constitutional protections.

The omitted language matters because the Supreme Court’s qualified-immunity jurisprudence rests substantially upon the premise that Congress legislated against a background of existing common-law immunities. In Pierson v. Ray, 386 U.S. 547 (1967), the Court recognized a defense of good faith and probable cause for police officers sued under § 1983, reasoning that Congress had not demonstrated an intention to abolish historically recognized protections. But the original statute’s notwithstanding clause presents a textual complication that the modern doctrine has not satisfactorily addressed. Congress expressly anticipated circumstances in which state legal authority, including custom or usage, would conflict with federal civil-rights liability. The question is whether the Supreme Court’s subsequent reliance upon historically preserved defenses adequately accounts for that legislative command.

The distinction between a state-law defense and a federally recognized immunity cannot be ignored. The notwithstanding clause directly addresses contrary state legal authority; it does not expressly mention every immunity that federal courts might recognize as a matter of federal statutory interpretation. Consequently, its presence does not, standing alone, establish that Congress eliminated every historically recognized immunity. But that qualification does not make the provision insignificant. It establishes that Congress was not indifferent to the possibility that existing legal rules would obstruct the federal remedy. Any interpretation preserving or enlarging official immunity must therefore be reconciled with the unusually direct language Congress employed to overcome state-created obstacles to constitutional accountability.

The statutory history presents an additional problem. During the nineteenth-century consolidation of federal law, Congress enacted the Revised Statutes of 1874, and the provision that eventually became § 1983 appeared as Revised Statutes § 1979 without the original notwithstanding clause. The legal significance of that omission requires careful consideration because the 1874 revision was itself enacted by Congress. The fact that the present Title 42 has not been enacted as positive law does not automatically undo the effect of the earlier legislative revision. Nevertheless, the omission creates a substantial historical and interpretive question concerning whether the revised formulation was intended to narrow the substantive protections established in 1871 or merely restate them without language the revisers considered unnecessary.

That question is particularly consequential because the modern doctrine was not derived from a comprehensive analysis of the original notwithstanding clause and its subsequent statutory treatment. Instead, the Court progressively developed immunity through decisions that emphasized historical assumptions and institutional policy concerns. In Harlow v. Fitzgerald, 457 U.S. 800 (1982), the Supreme Court abandoned the subjective good-faith inquiry and adopted the objective clearly-established-law standard that now dominates qualified-immunity litigation. The Court justified that transformation by emphasizing litigation expenses, the diversion of public officials from governmental responsibilities, and the possibility that personal liability would discourage effective public service. Those considerations may have practical significance, but their existence does not independently establish that Congress authorized the judiciary to impose an additional condition upon recovery under § 1983.

This is where the constitutional separation-of-powers problem becomes unavoidable. Congress enacted the federal remedy. The judiciary interprets and applies that remedy. But when courts add a liability defense principally to address their own assessment of litigation burdens and administrative consequences, they risk moving beyond statutory interpretation into legislative policymaking. The distinction is not eliminated by describing qualified immunity as longstanding precedent. A doctrine’s duration cannot independently establish the authority that justified its creation. The relevant question is whether its operative requirements can be traced to the statutory command or to common-law protections that Congress intended to preserve, rather than to a judicial determination that government officials deserve protections Congress did not specify.

The Supreme Court’s decision in Pearson v. Callahan, 555 U.S. 223 (2009), compounded the institutional consequences by permitting courts to resolve qualified-immunity claims without first determining whether the challenged conduct violated the Constitution. That discretionary sequence produces an obvious problem. A court may decline to address the constitutional merits because the asserted right was not clearly established, leaving subsequent litigants without the precedent necessary to overcome the same defense. The doctrine can thereby perpetuate the very absence of controlling authority upon which it depends. Constitutional rights remain theoretically enforceable, but the judicial decisions necessary to establish their application may never be rendered.

The consequences are particularly serious in excessive-force litigation. Police encounters rarely unfold through identical factual sequences. An officer may invoke qualified immunity because no prior decision involved precisely the same combination of resistance, restraint, perceived danger, or physical force. Although the Supreme Court does not invariably require a case presenting identical facts, its demand for sufficiently particularized legal notice can substantially restrict damages remedies in cases involving novel factual circumstances. The resulting inquiry may turn less upon whether an officer used objectively unreasonable force than upon whether another court previously condemned sufficiently comparable conduct. That additional barrier is not found in the operative text of § 1983.

Justice Thomas has expressly questioned the historical legitimacy of that development. In his separate opinion in Ziglar v. Abbasi, 582 U.S. 120, 157–60 (2017) (Thomas, J., concurring in part and concurring in the judgment), he recognized that modern qualified-immunity jurisprudence had departed from the inquiry into historically recognized defenses and developed into an objective standard substantially influenced by judicial policy concerns. His dissent from the denial of certiorari in Baxter v. Bracey, 590 U.S. 835, 835–39 (2020) (Thomas, J., dissenting from denial of certiorari), again questioned whether that doctrine could be reconciled with the common law existing when Congress enacted § 1983. These objections did not alter the controlling law, but they identified a foundational problem that the Supreme Court has not comprehensively resolved: whether the modern immunity doctrine represents faithful statutory interpretation or an expansion of official protection beyond the historical defenses Congress may have preserved.

Against that background, Crosby demonstrates both the proper application and the underlying limitations of existing qualified-immunity law. Officer Murname claimed that the force used against Crosby was objectively reasonable and that, in any event, he was protected by qualified immunity. Judge Irizarry rejected summary judgment because the evidentiary record permitted a reasonable jury to find that Murname used constitutionally excessive force against an already-restrained individual. The dispute concerning whether Murname punched Crosby twice was material, but the evidence concerning the officer’s use of force to obtain the cellphone independently supported the denial of summary judgment. The court could not resolve the immunity question by accepting the officer’s preferred account of disputed events.

Judge Irizarry correctly applied the controlling framework. As a district judge, she remained bound by Supreme Court and Second Circuit precedent recognizing qualified immunity. Her responsibility was not to disregard that doctrine, but to ensure that its application did not improperly resolve genuine factual disputes. Nevertheless, a decision faithfully applying qualified immunity does not answer the larger question of the doctrine’s statutory legitimacy. Courts routinely determine whether the asserted right was clearly established without examining why Congress’s civil-rights remedy became subject to that additional judicial requirement in the first place.

The judiciary’s reluctance to reconsider the doctrine’s origins is particularly striking given the Supreme Court’s repeated emphasis upon statutory text, historical meaning, and the limits of judicial authority. Qualified immunity presents each of those issues. The original 1871 statute contained an express command subordinating contrary state legal authority to federal civil-rights liability. The subsequent revision omitted that language under circumstances requiring historical and legal examination. The modern doctrine emerged through decisions recognizing and enlarging official defenses, culminating in a clearly-established-law requirement that Congress never expressly adopted. These developments cannot be justified solely by invoking judicial precedent without addressing the statutory authority underlying them.

Nor can Congress’s failure to amend § 1983 be treated as conclusive approval of the doctrine. Legislative inaction is an uncertain basis for identifying congressional intent, especially when the disputed judicial interpretation developed long after the statute’s enactment. Congress may amend the statute, but that legislative authority does not relieve the Supreme Court of responsibility for evaluating whether its own interpretation remains faithful to the statutory text and historical framework. The judiciary cannot convert its power to interpret legislation into an unrestricted authority to establish exemptions whenever it considers the statutory remedy administratively inconvenient.

The appropriate inquiry is therefore not whether qualified immunity produces a desirable balance between governmental efficiency and individual rights. Congress already made a consequential legislative judgment when it established a federal remedy for constitutional violations committed under color of state law. The judiciary’s responsibility is to determine what that enactment means, including what defenses its historical context legitimately preserves. The existence of recognized common-law protections must be examined with historical precision, not assumed to authorize every feature of a doctrine subsequently constructed to limit liability.

Ultimately, the fundamental objection is one of legal authority. If the modern clearly-established-law requirement cannot be reconciled with the statute Congress enacted and the historically recognized defenses Congress intended to preserve, its continued application cannot be justified merely because courts have relied upon it for decades. The judiciary must confront the statutory foundation of the doctrine rather than repeatedly refining its operation while avoiding its origins. Crosby demonstrates that courts can properly reject qualified immunity when genuine factual disputes preclude judgment. The unresolved institutional question is why the federal courts continue to enforce an additional judicially created barrier to civil-rights liability without fully confronting whether Congress authorized that barrier at all.

V. The Institutional Cost of Treating Summary Judgment as a Trial

The most troubling feature of federal summary judgment practice is not the existence of a procedural mechanism for disposing of claims that lack evidentiary support. It is the increasingly consequential distinction between what Rule 56 authorizes courts to determine and what judges sometimes undertake to decide in its name. Federal courts possess authority to enter judgment when the admissible evidence establishes that no genuine dispute of material fact exists and the moving party is entitled to judgment as a matter of law. That authority does not include resolving competing witness accounts, assigning greater credibility to government officials, or deciding whether a plaintiff’s evidence is persuasive enough to satisfy the judge personally. When courts cross that boundary, summary judgment ceases to function as a means of identifying cases that do not require trial. It becomes a substitute for trial itself, with the judge exercising the factfinding authority reserved for the jury.

The distinction has particular consequences in civil-rights litigation because the factual disputes frequently concern the conduct of government officials exercising coercive authority over individuals who possess substantially less institutional power. In police excessive-force cases, an officer may contend that physical intervention was necessary to maintain control, prevent resistance, or protect safety, while the person subjected to that force may describe conduct that was unnecessary, punitive, or gratuitous. Both accounts may be supported by sworn testimony. The question presented at summary judgment is not which account the district judge considers more believable. It is whether the evidence, evaluated under the governing substantive law and with reasonable inferences drawn in favor of the nonmoving party, would permit a rational jury to return a verdict for that party. Replacing that inquiry with an assessment of which witness presents the more convincing narrative fundamentally alters the judicial function.

The Supreme Court established the governing limitation in Anderson, explaining that summary judgment requires the identification of a genuine evidentiary dispute rather than the weighing of evidence or determination of credibility. That distinction is inseparable from the Seventh Amendment’s preservation of the right to trial by jury in suits at common law. The Seventh Amendment does not prohibit summary judgment where the evidentiary record fails to present a legally sufficient basis for a jury verdict. But the jury-trial guarantee gives institutional significance to the boundary between identifying the absence of a triable dispute and deciding a dispute that the evidence actually presents. The court determines whether legally sufficient evidence exists. The jury resolves the material factual disagreements that survive that determination.

This division of responsibility is not merely an abstract allocation of governmental functions. It governs the treatment of sworn testimony, documentary evidence, conflicting inferences, and factual explanations throughout civil-rights litigation. A district judge may determine that an affidavit contains conclusory assertions unsupported by specific facts. The court may disregard evidence that cannot be presented in an admissible form at trial, reject speculation, and determine whether an asserted factual disagreement is material to an essential element of the claim. Those responsibilities require meaningful judicial scrutiny. But when competent evidence supports competing accounts of a material event, the judge cannot eliminate the dispute by concluding that one account is improbable, incomplete, or less persuasive than the other. That determination ordinarily belongs to the factfinder.

Crosby illustrates the distinction with unusual clarity. Officer Michael Murname sought to exclude Abraham Crosby’s sworn declaration alleging that Murname punched him twice in the back of the head while Crosby remained handcuffed inside a police vehicle. The defense emphasized that Crosby had not specifically described those blows during his earlier deposition. Rather than identifying an affirmative contradiction between the two sworn statements, Murname argued that the additional allegation did not fit Crosby’s original narrative. Judge Irizarry examined the deposition testimony, considered the general nature of defense counsel’s questions, and concluded that Crosby’s declaration amplified rather than contradicted his earlier account. The court refused to transform the omission into a judicial finding that Crosby’s subsequent allegation was unbelievable.

That determination did not establish the truth of Crosby’s account. It preserved the distinction between evidence that may be challenged at trial and evidence that cannot properly be considered at all. Defense counsel remained entitled to confront Crosby with his deposition testimony, question why he had omitted the alleged punches, and argue that the omission undermined his credibility. A jury could consider those arguments in evaluating the evidence. What the defense could not obtain was an advance credibility determination from the district court that eliminated the allegation before the jury had an opportunity to assess it. The legal significance of the court’s ruling lies precisely in its refusal to substitute judicial skepticism for the factfinding process.

The institutional consequences of disregarding that distinction extend beyond individual excessive-force claims. Federal civil-rights litigation frequently involves discriminatory intent, retaliatory motive, pretext, disparate treatment, and contested explanations for adverse governmental action. In employment discrimination cases, defendants may advance facially legitimate reasons for their decisions while plaintiffs rely upon circumstantial evidence demonstrating inconsistencies, differential treatment, or retaliatory purpose. In police-misconduct litigation, officers may invoke safety concerns while plaintiffs offer testimony or other evidence undermining the asserted necessity for force. These disputes are not automatically suitable for trial merely because competing explanations exist. But where the admissible record permits reasonable jurors to draw different conclusions on material issues, the judge’s preference for one explanation cannot supply the missing basis for judgment as a matter of law.

A recurring danger arises when courts characterize an employer’s or government official’s explanation as reasonable while describing the plaintiff’s competing evidence as speculative, even though the record supports a permissible inference in the plaintiff’s favor. The terminology of legal sufficiency can then conceal an evaluation of credibility. Rather than asking whether the plaintiff’s evidence permits a reasonable finding of unlawful conduct, the court may effectively ask whether the plaintiff has persuaded the judge that the defendant’s explanation is false. Those are materially different inquiries. The first implements Rule 56. The second risks requiring the plaintiff to prevail on contested factual questions before obtaining the trial at which those questions are supposed to be resolved.

This concern does not suggest that every inference urged by a plaintiff must be accepted. The requirement that inferences be reasonable remains essential. Courts are not required to adopt conjecture, overlook affirmative contradictions that cannot reasonably be reconciled, or permit claims to proceed without evidence supporting their necessary elements. The legal error occurs when a court rejects an inference that a rational jury could draw because the judge considers another inference more persuasive. Where the evidence permits competing reasonable conclusions, the court must recognize the existence of the dispute rather than select the conclusion it favors. The procedural standard cannot be converted into an obligation that plaintiffs establish the ultimate truth of their allegations before trial.

The Supreme Court reinforced that limitation in Tolan, where the district court’s treatment of disputed circumstances in an excessive-force case produced an improper qualified-immunity determination. The Court emphasized that the summary judgment standard applies with equal force when a government official invokes immunity. That principle is significant because qualified immunity is frequently characterized as protection from the burdens of litigation rather than merely a defense against ultimate liability. Although the doctrine permits appropriate legal questions to be resolved before trial, its procedural purpose does not authorize judges to disregard factual disputes material to the constitutional analysis. A defendant’s interest in avoiding litigation cannot alter the evidence that Rule 56 requires the court to consider.

The same principle carries particular importance after Barnes. When the Supreme Court rejected an artificial temporal limitation on the Fourth Amendment reasonableness inquiry, it reaffirmed the necessity of evaluating the relevant circumstances surrounding police force. That requirement does not weaken Rule 56’s evidentiary protections. It makes adherence to them especially important. A complete constitutional analysis depends upon an accurate understanding of the encounter, including events preceding the use of force, the individual’s conduct, the officer’s knowledge, and any changes in the circumstances affecting the necessity for intervention. Where those matters are disputed, courts cannot construct a controlling factual narrative by selectively crediting one party’s evidence while discounting the other’s.

There is a direct relationship between the scope of the constitutional inquiry and the integrity of the summary judgment process. Barnes addresses which circumstances must be considered in determining objective reasonableness. Rule 56 governs whether the competing evidence concerning those circumstances can be resolved without trial. A court may faithfully recite the totality-of-the-circumstances standard while violating Rule 56 by treating contested facts as established. Conversely, a court may correctly recognize the existence of factual disputes while inadequately considering the full encounter required by Fourth Amendment doctrine. Both inquiries must be performed correctly. Neither substitutes for the other.

In Crosby, Judge Irizarry maintained that separation. She acknowledged Crosby’s violation of an order of protection and his initial flight without allowing those facts to resolve the constitutionality of force allegedly used after his apprehension. She also recognized the distinction between Crosby’s deposition and subsequent declaration without determining whether his description of the punches was truthful. The court considered the evidence concerning Murname’s efforts to obtain the cellphone and concluded that a reasonable jury could find the force unjustified even apart from the disputed allegation of additional blows. That independent evidentiary basis underscores why the motion could not properly be resolved through a categorical rejection of Crosby’s later declaration.

The decision also demonstrates why Rule 56.1 compliance, although important, cannot displace the underlying federal standard. Judge Irizarry found that Murname’s eight numbered factual assertions were uncontroverted, yet that determination did not entitle him to judgment. The existence of undisputed background facts does not foreclose other material disputes supported by admissible evidence. Nor does a party’s successful identification of uncontested circumstances authorize the court to disregard additional facts that materially affect the constitutional inquiry. Rule 56.1 organizes the evidentiary presentation; it does not transform partial agreement about historical events into agreement about the ultimate legality of disputed government conduct.

The concern is institutional because the consequences of improper summary judgment extend beyond the immediate parties. When a court resolves a genuine credibility dispute against a civil-rights plaintiff, the plaintiff loses the opportunity to have a jury evaluate the evidence. The defendant obtains judgment without the contested factual account being subjected to trial. Appellate review may correct the error, but that process introduces additional expense, delay, and uncertainty. Where the judgment is not reversed, the factual dispute disappears from the litigation without the factfinder ever determining what occurred. The resulting decision may then influence subsequent litigation even though its decisive factual premise was never established through a permissible adjudicative process.

These consequences are especially significant where civil-rights claims challenge conduct by public institutions. Section 1983 was enacted to provide a federal remedy when state actors deprive individuals of federally secured rights. That remedy necessarily operates through established procedural rules, including summary judgment. But the procedural administration of civil-rights claims cannot become a means of withholding the adjudication Congress made available. A federal court that improperly resolves material facts against the nonmoving party does more than commit an evidentiary error. It prevents the statutory claim from receiving the trial that the applicable legal standard requires.

The problem is not solved by invoking judicial efficiency. Federal courts possess legitimate interests in controlling their dockets, eliminating unsupported claims, and avoiding unnecessary trials. Those interests, however, do not authorize the expansion of Rule 56 beyond its prescribed boundaries. Efficiency is achieved legitimately when courts identify cases that cannot succeed under the governing law and evidentiary record. It is not achieved legitimately when courts decide contested facts under the guise of determining that no contest exists. Administrative convenience cannot supply authority that the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure withhold.

Nor can the increasing complexity of civil-rights litigation justify a different result. Cases involving multiple officers, conflicting testimony, circumstantial evidence, institutional practices, or competing expert opinions may require substantial judicial management. That complexity may warrant careful evidentiary rulings, focused discovery, and disciplined identification of material factual issues. It does not transform the district judge into the ultimate arbiter of disputed historical events. The procedural system contemplates that some cases require juries precisely because the evidence cannot be reconciled through legal analysis alone.

The larger institutional failure occurs when federal courts cease to recognize that the existence of a genuine factual dispute is itself a legally sufficient reason to deny summary judgment. A plaintiff need not demonstrate that the court finds the plaintiff more credible than the defendant. The plaintiff must present evidence sufficient for a reasonable jury to return a favorable verdict under the governing substantive law. Where that threshold is met, continued judicial evaluation of competing factual explanations risks crossing from legal sufficiency into factual adjudication. The distinction is particularly important in constitutional litigation, where official conduct may be defended through explanations that cannot be meaningfully tested without examination by the factfinder.

Crosby provides a useful example of the judicial discipline that Rule 56 requires. Judge Irizarry did not treat the plaintiff’s evidence as inherently credible because he alleged police misconduct, nor did she treat the officer’s account as presumptively reliable because he acted under governmental authority. She examined whether the disputed evidence was competent, whether the alleged inconsistency justified exclusion, and whether a reasonable jury could find the challenged force unconstitutional. Having determined that the evidentiary record presented material disputes, she denied summary judgment without attempting to decide those disputes herself.

The central institutional lesson is that the authority to determine whether a trial is necessary must not become the authority to conduct that trial through judicial inference. The legitimacy of summary judgment depends upon preserving that boundary. When courts enforce it, Rule 56 serves its intended purpose by separating claims lacking sufficient evidentiary support from those requiring factual adjudication. When courts disregard it, the procedure risks becoming a mechanism through which judicial preferences replace jury determinations. The question ultimately presented by Crosby is therefore larger than whether one Suffolk County police officer may be held liable for alleged excessive force. It concerns whether federal courts will consistently preserve the distinction between deciding the law and deciding contested facts when constitutional rights and governmental accountability are at stake.

Conclusion: The Jury Must Decide What Happened

Crosby illustrates a fundamental limitation on judicial authority that federal courts must consistently respect: summary judgment is not a substitute for trial, and judicial skepticism is not evidence. Judge Irizarry properly recognized that a lawful arrest does not excuse unreasonable force, that disputed testimony cannot be rejected merely because a judge finds it unpersuasive, and that qualified immunity cannot resolve genuine factual disputes in a government official’s favor.

Yet the larger institutional problem remains. The Supreme Court continues to enforce a qualified-immunity doctrine whose modern requirements Congress never expressly enacted, while its statutory and historical foundations remain inadequately examined. The judiciary cannot invoke statutory fidelity in one context while relying upon judicially constructed limitations on congressional remedies in another. Nor can it preserve constitutional accountability while allowing judges to assume the jury’s factfinding responsibilities.

The principles underlying Barnes, Rule 56, and § 1983 ultimately demand the same institutional discipline: courts must apply the law as written, consider the relevant evidence, and respect the limits of their authority. Constitutional protections cannot depend upon judicial preferences concerning which litigants deserve to be believed or which government officials deserve protection from liability.

The federal judiciary’s responsibility is to enforce constitutional rights, not construct additional obstacles to their vindication. When material facts remain genuinely disputed, the law requires a trial—not a judicial verdict disguised as summary judgment.

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