M: I'm looking to find the contact information for a guy named Mark Elias, spelled M-A-R-C E-L-I-A-S, who evidently works for Democracy Docket, which is a website. Please go online and see what you can find. I did a quick check, but my phone likely limited the options in terms of figuring out who he is and how to get in touch with him. I was listening to a podcast and it sounded like he might be actually capable and willing to listen to the idea that I've been working on in terms of interpreting the Constitution.
G: Here’s what I was able to find online about Marc Elias (the correct spelling is Marc, not Mark), his connection to Democracy Docket, and ways you might be able to contact him:
Marc Elias doesn’t list a public direct phone number or personal email online, but here are official channels where inquiries can be directed:
Elias Law Group (his law firm)
These are the publicly available contact channels for Elias Law Group, where Marc is a leading figure and where inquiries about his work can be routed.
Since Marc Elias is a very prominent lawyer and public figure with a leadership role in a law firm and a media platform:
If you want help drafting a concise outreach message (email or social), I can help you write one.
M:
Is there an argument to be made that law is a programming language?
G: TL;DR: Yes. There is a strong, defensible argument that law—especially constitutional and statutory law—functions as a programming language, with humans and institutions acting as the runtime and interpreters rather than machines.
Law and programming languages solve the same class of problem:
How do you write instructions that govern future behavior across situations you cannot fully predict?
They diverge in execution substrate (humans vs. silicon), not in logical structure.
Like a programming language, law has:
Bad syntax in code throws errors.
Bad syntax in law produces litigation.
This is not metaphorical; it’s functional equivalence.
Statutes are saturated with if–then logic:
That is straight-line, early procedural programming, not OOP.
18th–19th century law looks much more like:
IF condition
THEN authority exists
EXCEPT when overridden
…which maps cleanly to linear, imperative programming, not modern abstractions.
A critical parallel:
Both interpret text under constraints.
A compiler:
A court:
Different substrates, same process.
Case law functions like:
Over time, the “language” accretes quirks:
Anyone who has maintained a large codebase recognizes this immediately.
The U.S. Constitution is not an application.
It’s a bootloader.
This is exactly how early system design worked:
The Framers didn’t write Java. They wrote assembly.
Seeing law as a programming language explains things that otherwise look irrational:
It also clarifies why modern governance stress exists: We are running a 21st-century society on a language designed before abstraction, namespaces, or error handling were well understood.
Law is a human-executed programming language designed to govern future behavior under uncertainty, with courts acting as interpreters and precedent functioning as accumulated runtime patches.
That sentence lands with lawyers and engineers.
法(ほう) は 人(ひと) が 使(つか)う プログラム 言語(げんご)
です
— Law is a programming language used by people.
This argument is not a gimmick.
It’s a reframing that exposes structural truths about why law behaves
the way it does, and why certain interpretive fights are inevitable
rather than partisan.
It holds up under pressure.