Chuang v. University of California Davis

Facts

Dr. Ronald Chuang and Dr. Linda Chuang, husband-and-wife researchers of Chinese national origin, contended that officials at the University of California, Davis School of Medicine discriminated against them on the basis of race (Asian) and national origin (Chinese) in violation of Title VII, through three courses of conduct: the failure to provide Dr. Chuang a promised tenure position; the forcible relocation of the Chuangs’ laboratory during an ongoing federally funded research program; and the failure to respond to Dr. Chuang’s complaints that some of his research funds had been misappropriated. (Chuang, supra, 225 F.3d at pp. 1119–1120.) Because the appeal came from a summary judgment, the court recited the facts in the light most favorable to the Chuangs. (Id. at p. 1120, fn. 3.)

The promised tenure line. Dr. Chuang, “a microbiologist with a worldwide reputation in his area of expertise,” conducted seminal AIDS-related research continuously funded by the National Institute of Health; in 1996 his program ran on an “extraordinary” $1.7 million in NIH and other external funding. (Chuang, supra, 225 F.3d at p. 1120.) Davis hired him in 1982 as an assistant “in-residence” professor — responsible for funding most of his own salary through grants — after he turned down a tenure-track offer from Yale. Full-time-equivalent (FTE) professors, by contrast, are tenured faculty paid directly by the university. “Dr. Chuang, the only full-time faculty member in the pharmacology department who is not Caucasian, is also the only one without an FTE.” (Ibid.) The department chairman supported him for a prestigious five-year NIH Research Career Development Award “with the understanding that if the prestigious award were granted, Dr. Chuang would receive an FTE position upon its completion.” He won it, completed it in 1989 — and never received an FTE. (Ibid.) The paper trail of promises was explicit: a 1988 letter from the chairman relayed that the dean wanted to keep him but no FTE was available “until a resignation or retirement occurred,” and an April 1988 memorandum to an assistant dean stated “the School has committed itself to finding [Dr. Chuang] a permanent FTE position in the Department.” (Id. at pp. 1120–1121.) “There have been five retirements in the pharmacology department since 1989. Nevertheless, Dr. Chuang has not received an FTE.” (Id. at p. 1121.) In 1989 and 1990 Davis hired two Caucasian professors as FTEs — one of them, Dr. Michael Hanley, “a male Caucasian with no active NIH grants,” through a “Targets of Opportunity for Diversity” program designed to recruit minority and women faculty. “Through these hires, the already overwhelmingly white pharmacology department became more so.” (Ibid.) And at a 1989 meeting of the School of Medicine’s Executive Committee — its “supervisory and policymaking body” — when a professor asked why the administration had never pursued a Chinese-American candidate the department faculty had unanimously recommended for chairman, “Dr. Carroll Cross, sitting next to the dean, remarked that ‘two Chinks’ in the department were more than enough; in response, Dean Williams laughed.” (Ibid.)

The forcible relocation. The Chuangs’ laboratory history was a study in one-way accommodation. A Caucasian colleague stored equipment in their assigned lab space for roughly seven years despite their requests; “[h]e was not forcibly relocated.” (Chuang, supra, 225 F.3d at p. 1121.) In 1990, the dean asked the Chuangs to give two of their laboratory rooms to the newly hired Dr. Hanley, assuring them the arrangement was temporary; “the rooms were never returned,” and the Chuangs moved their equipment and research among borrowed spaces five times. (Id. at pp. 1121–1122.) In December 1995, Associate Dean Curry assured the faculty “that no faculty member with an active research program would be affected” by space allocations for the new Rowe Program in human genetics. (Id. at p. 1122.) The next month, the new department chairman, Dr. Hollinger, told the Chuangs their department would be moved from the fourth floor to the basement of Tupper Hall — and that if they refused, “the administration would change the locks on their doors.” (Ibid.) At the time, Dr. Chuang was the only faculty member in the department conducting active research; most other fourth-floor rooms sat reserved for “future pharmacologists”; the other researcher ordered to relocate, Dr. Jue, was likewise Chinese-American with an active NIH program; Dr. Hanley — Caucasian, no active NIH grants — was not moved; and “[n]o Caucasian faculty member with active research was required to relocate.” (Ibid.) When the Chuangs protested, Hollinger told them “worse things” than the discontinuation of their research would happen, that “when all the shooting is done, there will surely be a casualty,” and that the administration would “physically throw [them] out of the laboratory by force” if necessary. (Ibid.) The move began in April 1996 without their consent, damaging expensive equipment and hazardous materials; on May 6, 1996, watching the relocation, Hollinger told them: “You should pray to your Buddha for help.” (Ibid.) Faculty declarations described the forcible relocation of a researcher’s laboratory as unheard of, and the consequences were, in the court’s word, “calamitous”: reduced and split-level space unfit for molecular biology, no cold room, staff resignations, delayed experiments, an unusable research colony, NIH grants withheld for eight months, and a $75,000 grant lost entirely. (Id. at pp. 1122–1123.)

The funds complaint. In 1994 about $8,000 was diverted from Dr. Chuang’s NIH research account to the accounts of the department and its chairman. He complained repeatedly; the internal audit office investigated and reported to the provost; but Dr. Chuang never received any formal response — the university explaining that discipline had been imposed but could not be disclosed “because of privacy concerns,” and that the audit office could not respond formally “because of workload.” (Chuang, supra, 225 F.3d at p. 1123.)

Procedural history

The Chuangs filed an EEOC charge on July 12, 1996, received a right-to-sue notice, and sued under Title VII in the Eastern District of California in 1997. (Chuang, supra, 225 F.3d at p. 1123.) The district court granted the university’s motion for summary judgment on all three claims — resting on grounds the panel would systematically dismantle: that Dr. Chuang never applied for the FTEs, was unqualified, and could not show differential treatment given post-complaint Asian hires; that the relocation was “a host of annoyances” rather than an adverse action; and that the direct evidence of bias was either insufficiently “specific and substantial” or, in the case of the “Buddha” remark, “apparently intended as a humorous comment.” (Id. at pp. 1123–1124, 1126, 1128–1129.) The Ninth Circuit reversed as to the tenure-denial and relocation claims, affirmed as to the funds-response claim, and remanded. (Id. at pp. 1120, 1130.)

Issue

Four questions structure the opinion. First, did Dr. Chuang establish a prima facie case on the tenure-denial claim notwithstanding that he filed no formal applications for particular FTE openings? Second, is the forcible relocation of a researcher’s laboratory an “adverse employment action” under Title VII? Third, did the Chuangs raise a triable issue of pretext — indirectly, through the strength of the prima facie evidence under Reeves v. Sanderson Plumbing Products, Inc. (2000) 530 U.S. 133, and directly, through the “two Chinks” and “pray to your Buddha” remarks? Fourth, what relevance, if any, do an employer’s post-complaint minority hires have to whether discrimination occurred beforehand? (Chuang, supra, 225 F.3d at pp. 1123–1130.)

Holding

Reasoning

The summary judgment baseline: “very little” evidence, and no judicial fact-picking. Applying the familiar McDonnell Douglas framework — prima facie case, employer’s articulated reason, pretext, with the pretext showing available “either directly by persuading the court that a discriminatory reason more likely motivated the employer or indirectly by showing that the employer’s proffered explanation is unworthy of credence” (Chuang, supra, 225 F.3d at pp. 1123–1124, quoting Burdine, 450 U.S. at p. 256) — the court stated the governing premise up front: “As a general matter, the plaintiff in an employment discrimination action need produce very little evidence in order to overcome an employer’s motion for summary judgment,” because “the ultimate question is one that can only be resolved through a searching inquiry — one that is most appropriately conducted by a factfinder, upon a full record.” (Id. at p. 1124, quoting Schnidrig v. Columbia Mach., Inc. (9th Cir. 1996) 80 F.3d 1406, 1410.) The district court, “contrary to Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 56,” had “resolved material facts that were disputed and disregarded other important evidence.” (Ibid.)

Prima facie case without formal applications. The university argued Dr. Chuang never applied for the FTEs and was unqualified. The record answered both. He made several written requests; “[b]oth the department chairman and the dean promised him that he would receive an FTE once one became available”; other faculty received FTEs without formal applications — one as an incentive for recruiting her husband; and after another professor completed the same NIH award, the university “considered itself compelled under its terms to award her an FTE,” while “Dr. Chuang’s grant contained the same terms, but Davis did not award an FTE to him.” (Chuang, supra, 225 F.3d at pp. 1124–1125.) As for qualifications, there was at least a genuine dispute whether his research fell within “human genetics”; a Rowe Program FTE went to someone without human-genetics experience; and in any event his claim targeted the pharmacology FTEs the university had promised and repeatedly assigned elsewhere. (Id. at p. 1125.) A footnote corrected a common analytical error: a plaintiff “must show that an employer treated similarly situated individuals outside the plaintiff’s protective class more favorably, not that the employer treated all other members within the class less favorably.” (Id. at p. 1124, fn. 8.)

Adverse employment action: interference with the tools of the job. Title VII reaches discrimination in “compensation, terms, conditions, or privileges of employment,” language that “evinces a congressional intent to strike at the entire spectrum of disparate treatment.” (Chuang, supra, 225 F.3d at p. 1125, quoting Oncale v. Sundowner Offshore Servs., Inc. (1998) 523 U.S. 75, 78.) Against the district court’s dismissal of the relocation as “a host of annoyances,” the panel catalogued the disrupted research, lost grants, damaged equipment, inadequate basement facilities, and staff resignations, and announced the rule since quoted in hundreds of opinions: “The removal of or substantial interference with work facilities important to the performance of the job constitutes a material change in the terms and conditions of a person’s employment.” (Id. at p. 1126.) The comparator element followed twice over: the Chuangs surrendered space to “a Caucasian faculty member of junior rank,” and “Davis has never relocated the laboratory space of any Caucasian faculty member over the faculty member’s objections.” (Ibid.) The funds-response claim, by contrast, failed at this element: an irritating and perhaps unjustified failure to report back on an investigation “did not materially affect the compensation, terms, conditions, or privileges of the Chuangs’ employment.” (Ibid.)

Indirect pretext: Reeves does the work. On pretext, the court integrated the Supreme Court’s then-fresh decision in Reeves: “a disparate treatment plaintiff can survive summary judgment without producing any evidence of discrimination beyond that constituting his prima facie case, if that evidence raises a genuine issue of material fact regarding the truth of the employer’s proffered reasons.” (Chuang, supra, 225 F.3d at p. 1127.) Dr. Chuang’s prima facie showing met that measure: “extraordinary” qualifications, the only faculty member without an FTE and the only non-Caucasian; and he “was promised an FTE, but whenever one became available, it was assigned to someone else” — a record from which “a factfinder could well decide to disbelieve Davis’s explanation” that his position was never in jeopardy. (Ibid.) The relocation explanation fared no better: the university claimed the incoming Rowe chair had demanded the Chuangs’ precise space, but that professor “denied this contention in his deposition” — “the sort of evidence that could lead a factfinder to disbelieve Davis” — and the one-way history of space decisions plus “the extraordinarily hostile manner in which the School of Medicine evicted the Chuangs” contributed to a jury issue on falsity. (Id. at pp. 1127–1128.) The court added a transsubstantive evidence principle: under Reeves, “any form of evidence of discriminatory treatment that is otherwise admissible may be used to support any allegation of discrimination, whether or not there is a direct relationship between the various claims involved” — so the FTE evidence could inform the relocation claim and vice versa. (Id. at p. 1128.)

Direct evidence: slurs from institutional actors, and the anti-spin principle. The district court had required direct evidence of pretext to be “specific and substantial.” “This was error.” (Chuang, supra, 225 F.3d at p. 1128.) “With direct evidence, a triable issue as to the actual motivation of the employer is created even if the evidence is not substantial” — the plaintiff need produce “very little.” (Ibid., quoting Blue v. Widnall (9th Cir. 1998) 162 F.3d 541, 546, and Godwin v. Hunt Wesson, Inc. (9th Cir. 1998) 150 F.3d 1217, 1221.) Two items cleared the threshold. The Executive Committee member’s 1989 statement that “two Chinks” in the department were “more than enough” — made as Dr. Chuang was completing the award that was supposed to yield his FTE — was “an egregious and bigoted insult, one that constitutes strong evidence of discriminatory animus on the basis of national origin,” and it “establishes discriminatory intent even though it was uttered during consideration of a different Asian-American’s potential employment.” (Id. at p. 1128.) Nor did it implicate only the speaker: “Dean Williams’s laughing response to this remark establishes adequate evidence of discriminatory intent on his part also.” (Ibid.) Second, the chairman’s mid-eviction admonition that the Chuangs “should pray to [their] Buddha for help”: the district court had inferred humor and shared plight, but “[i]n drawing this inference in Davis’s favor, the district court erred. First, the comment was not humorous. Second, Dr. Hollinger did not share the Chuangs’ plight; the record supports a finding that as department chairman, he was instrumental in creating it.” (Id. at p. 1129.) Then the sentence that gives the opinion its enduring bite: “It is not the province of a court to spin such evidence in an employer’s favor when evaluating its motion for summary judgment. To the contrary, all inferences must be drawn in favor of the non-moving party.” (Ibid.) On the cumulative record — the two approaches “are not exclusive” — “there can be no doubt” the Chuangs established pretext for summary judgment purposes. (Id. at pp. 1127, 1129.)

Post-complaint hires prove nothing about pre-complaint discrimination. Finally, the court rejected the district court’s reliance on the university’s post-1996 award of three FTEs to Asian professors. The record did not reveal those hires’ national origin — and favorable treatment of “Asian” employees “does not answer a claim of discrimination based on national origin.” (Chuang, supra, 225 F.3d at p. 1129.) More fundamentally, hires made after the EEOC charge and lawsuit carry an “obvious incentive . . . to take corrective action in an attempt to shield itself from liability,” so “nondiscriminatory employer actions occurring subsequent to the filing of a discrimination complaint will rarely even be relevant as circumstantial evidence in favor of the employer.” (Ibid., quoting Lam v. University of Hawaii (9th Cir. 1994) 40 F.3d 1551, 1561, fn. 17.) “Curative measures simply do not tend to prove that a prior violation did not occur” — and on remand such evidence is to be excluded unless the university proves the decisions predated its awareness of the claims. (Id. at p. 1130.)

Significance

Chuang is one of the most-cited employment discrimination decisions in the circuit, and its influence runs through four distinct doctrines. Its two-part pretext formulation — unworthy of credence, or discrimination more likely the motive — became the standard recitation, repeated verbatim in later cases including Earl v. Nielsen Media Research, Inc. (9th Cir. 2011) 658 F.3d 1108, 1113, which quotes Chuang as the governing statement of the standard. Its adverse-action holding — substantial interference with the facilities needed to do the job — supplied a materially broader lens than termination-and-demotion formalism, and is the go-to citation whenever an employer degrades working conditions without touching title or pay. Its Reeves application settled, early and emphatically, that a Ninth Circuit plaintiff need not produce “additional, independent evidence of discrimination” at step three where the prima facie record itself impeaches the employer’s story. (Chuang, supra, 225 F.3d at p. 1127.) And its post-complaint-hires holding gives plaintiffs a ready answer to the employer that diversifies after the charge is filed.

For California practice, Chuang matters because the FEHA borrows this architecture: California courts look to Title VII authority when applying parallel FEHA provisions (see Guz v. Bechtel National, Inc. (2000) 24 Cal.4th 317 — decided weeks after Chuang — which organized California’s own adoption of the McDonnell Douglas framework), and Chuang-style proof packages — broken promises documented in the employer’s own memoranda, deviations from uniform practice, decisionmaker remarks, comparator asymmetry — are the daily grammar of FEHA pretext oppositions. The opinion is also a persistent reminder of the judicial role on summary judgment: the “spin” passage is quoted wherever a trial court has rationalized away hostile remarks as jokes or ambiguity. (Chuang, supra, 225 F.3d at p. 1129.) Its limits deserve equal attention: the funds-response holding shows that not every institutional discourtesy is actionable, and the direct-evidence discussion presupposes speakers with institutional roles — an Executive Committee member, a laughing dean, a department chairman “instrumental” in the challenged action — not stray voices unconnected to decisionmaking. (Id. at pp. 1126, 1128–1129.)

Key quotes

“The removal of or substantial interference with work facilities important to the performance of the job constitutes a material change in the terms and conditions of a person’s employment.” (Chuang, supra, 225 F.3d at p. 1126.)

“[A] disparate treatment plaintiff can survive summary judgment without producing any evidence of discrimination beyond that constituting his prima facie case, if that evidence raises a genuine issue of material fact regarding the truth of the employer’s proffered reasons.” (Chuang, supra, 225 F.3d at p. 1127.)

“It is not the province of a court to spin such evidence in an employer’s favor when evaluating its motion for summary judgment. To the contrary, all inferences must be drawn in favor of the non-moving party.” (Chuang, supra, 225 F.3d at p. 1129.)

“Curative measures simply do not tend to prove that a prior violation did not occur.” (Chuang, supra, 225 F.3d at p. 1130, quoting Gonzales v. Police Dept., City of San Jose (9th Cir. 1990) 901 F.2d 758, 762.)

Read the full opinion (Justia) →

Practice pointer

Open questions

Chuang decided sufficiency, not truth: whether Davis in fact discriminated returned to the factfinder, and the opinion is explicit that some of the recited facts were disputed. (Chuang, supra, 225 F.3d at p. 1120, fn. 3.) Doctrinally, the panel measured the relocation against Title VII’s terms-and-conditions text and expressly compared, without adopting for discrimination claims, the broader deterrence-based standard used for retaliation in Ray v. Henderson (9th Cir. 2000) 217 F.3d 1234, 1243 — leaving the precise boundary between the two formulations for later cases. (Id. at p. 1125.) The court did not fix how much institutional distance between a slur’s speaker and the challenged decision is too much; it found the Executive Committee’s policymaking role and the chairman’s instrumentality sufficient, but offered no outer limit — the line the stray-remarks cases continue to police. The post-complaint-hires holding contains its own reserved question: such evidence is excluded “unless the university can prove that it made its hiring decisions before it became aware that the Chuangs intended to pursue their complaints” (id. at p. 1130), leaving open both the mechanics of that proof and the evidentiary treatment of remedial actions taken after informal complaints but before litigation. And because the panel resolved the appeal under Title VII alone, it had no occasion to address any state-law analogues or the distinct standards that would govern a FEHA version of the same record.