Alexander
Hamilton famously argued that the judiciary was the “least dangerous branch.”
One might have anticipated this argument, seeing as it comes at the tail end
(No. 78 of 85) of other pressing issues addressed in The Federalists Papers.
Federalist No. 78 addressed life tenure for federal judges. Periodic elections
provide some check on the Legislative and Executive branches. But, periodical
elections also give rise to electoral pathologies, which stem from a strong
desire to minimize electoral competition and retain power. The judiciary,
according to Hamilton, needed to be free from these pathologies because it was
the branch of government, as Hamilton puts it, that mediated between the will
of the people as expressed by their representatives through statutes or
regulations and the will of the people as expressed directly through the
Constitution—Hopefully Hamilton understood that the Constitution was also part
of a legislative process and was also merely an expression of a group of guys
who “represented” the people.
So,
life tenure would not be so bad for judges since they would be free from
competitive politics, right? Maybe not. Chief Justice John Roberts recently
voiced concern over the hyper-partisan judicial nomination process, which, he
believes, taints public perception of judicial activity. Judges, according to
Roberts, are not engaged in institutional politics. But the public at large
might not understand or know this when what people see is a fight to get one or
another parties’ nominee confirmed at any and all costs, even stalling,
indefinitely if necessary, the nomination process.
Chief
Justice Roberts raises a valid concern, but he understates the problem. The judicial confirmation process may
influence a certain perception about one or another judge’s political
persuasion. But that is only a perception. Judicial opinions in many cases
confirm or refute those perceptions. These perceptions are more likely
confirmed in split-decisions—when the court splits 5-4 with Republican
appointees on one side and Democratic appointees on the other, or
vice-versa—and more likely refuted in unanimous decisions.
Cases
involving the scope of constitutional rights and weight of societal goals or
norms and where deep-seated and intractable disagreements over both persist
among citizens—the breadth of Second Amendment rights in the face of a societal
goal to quell gun violence; the scope of an individual’s right to Equal
Protection under the law in the face of a small business owner’s deeply-held
religious belief against that individual’s sexual activity—complicate the
matter. Split decisions not only confirm partisan suspicions in the “losing”
side, but fuel public distrust in the judiciary and cynicism toward
representative government. Unanimous decisions, though perhaps not refuting
partisan suspicions in every instance and for every person, also fuel cynicism
toward representative government, as the “losing side” is left asking how nine
people in robes can have the final say—barring an improbable supermajority
overturning the decision by Article V Amendment—in a matter that affects over
300 million people and over which disagreement persists?
The
problem with partisanship in the federal nomination process is not merely that
it taints public perception of judicial activity, but that it draws attention
to the political nature of the judiciary, itself just another branch of
government. The public becomes aware of appointment pathologies in the
judiciary, which mirror electoral pathologies. The path from attorney to federal
district court judge to federal appellate judge to United States Supreme Court
justice requires investing in party elites and championing party platforms and
these pathologies may play a permanent role in a judge’s judgment. See Daniel R Correa, Taking Democracy Seriously: Toward
a Jury-Centered Jurisprudence, 22:2 Va. J. Soc. Pol’y & L. 307, 337-340
(2015); Bruce Cain, Redistricting Commissions: A Better
Political Buffer?, 121 YALE L. J. 1808, 1836 (2012) (arguing that empirical
evidence exists to support the argument that judges in redistricting cases tend
to favor the party that elected or appointed them); see also Randall D. Lloyd, Separating Partisanship from Party
in Judicial Research: Reapportionment in the U.S. District Courts, 89 AM.
POL. SCI. REV. 413, 417 (1995).
In
States like Texas where judges are elected at every level, the matter is
further complicated. Elected judges are directly subject to electoral
pathologies. Still, the judiciary and legal practitioners expect or hope that
people will believe that judges are completely immune to partisanship. So long
as all judges are human beings, they are not immune.
Partisanship
fuels American government as much today as in the past; however, inquiries into
partisanship ills most often center on the Legislative and Executive branches,
where the effects of partisanship are clearly visible. In a tripartite
government, the manifestations and negative effects of partisanship must be
thoroughly examined in every branch. The investigation, in fact, may be more
pressing in the judiciary, where partisanship is not always visibly manifested,
either due to a conscious effort by the judiciary or the legal profession, or
both, to mask judicial partisanship, or an unconscious and unwarranted belief
in the superhuman capacity of judges to be free of partisanship.
In
Federalist No. 10, James Madison located the root cause of partisanship in
human nature: “As long as [human] reason . . . continues fallible, and [people
are] at liberty to exercise it, different opinions will be formed. As long as
the connections subsists between [each person’s] reason and his [or her]
self-love, [each person’s] opinions and . . . passions will have a reciprocal
influence on each other; and the former will be objects to which the latter
will attach themselves. . . . The latent causes of faction are thus sown in
[human] nature . . . and we see them every where brought into different degrees of activity,
according to the different circumstances of civil society.” Judicial activity
is obviously included here, but Madison’s focus was on the Legislative branch.
Madison
argued in Federalist No. 10 that the negative effects of factions would be
mitigated by “expanding the sphere” of representation. With a large
representative pool in the National Government, Madison argued, it would be
extremely difficult for any localized faction to garner permanent majority
support: “Extend the sphere, and you take in a greater variety of parties and
interests; you make it less probable that a majority of the whole will have a
common motive to invade the rights of other citizens; or if such a common
motive exists, it will be more difficult for all who feel it to discovery their
own strength, and to act in unison with each other. . . The influence of factious
leaders may kindle a flame within their particular states, but will be unable
to spread a general conflagration through the other states. . . .”
Whatever
the merits of Madison’s observations, Chief Justice Roberts made abundantly
clear: “It’s not our job to represent the people
of the United States. Our job is to interpret the law to the best of our
ability.” (As an aside, Chief Justice Roberts’ observation concerning the
non-representative nature of judges probably invoked a cry of “taxation without
representation” in opponents of his Affordable Care Act opinion in National Federation
of Independent Business v. Sebelius.) What should citizens make of Roberts’
statement?
Let’s assume Madison is right about expanded representation,
i.e., that it remedies baneful effects of partisanship or faction. Let’s also
assume Roberts is right that the judiciary does not represent people, a
position held by other jurists. See e.g., Alexander Bickel, The Least Dangerous
Branch 24 (Yale Univ. Press, 2d
ed. 1986); Erwin Chemerinski, Evaluating Judicial
Candidates, 61 S. Cal. L.
Rev. 1985, 1988 (1988) (judges
represent the law); Wells v. Edwards,
347 F. Supp. 453, summarily aff’d,
409 U.S. 1095 (1973) (judges are servants rather than representatives of people)
(affirming district court ruling that the principle of one-person, one-vote
arose out of democratic concerns to “preserve truly representative government,”
which is not relevant to judiciary makeup). Accepting that partisanship is a
permanent part of American politics, deeply infused in every branch of
government, what can be done to control the effects of partisanship in the
judiciary?
This
question, I submit, is under-investigated or over-neglected and is perhaps one
of the most important in a democratic society. This question is not easily
brushed aside, as some like to image, by charging that the United States is a
Republic, not a Democracy. Madison tried to distinguish between what he
considered a “pure democracy,” by which he meant direct democracy, and a
Republic, by which he meant a scheme of representative government, i.e.,
representative democracy. See Federalist No. 10. The difference
Madison identified is largely procedural. “In its original Greek form (dēmokratia), democracy meant that ‘the capacity
to act in order to effect change’ (kratos) lay with
a public (dēmos) composed of many choice making individuals.” See Josiah Ober, Democracy and
Knowledge: Innovation and Learning in Classical Athens 12 (Princeton Univ. Press 2008). The
“many choice making individuals” did not require direct participation in law
making. In fact, Ancient Athens relied on representative bodies—the jury in the
People’s Court and the citizen Assembly. Douglas
M. MacDowell, The Law in Classical Athens 33–35
(Cornell Univ. Press 1978); Mogens
Herman Hansen, The Athenian Democracy in the Age of Demosthenes 181–86 (J.A. Crook trans., Univ. of
Oklahoma Press 1999). As Robert Dahl once noted, the difference between
“Democracy” and “Republic” is language, the latter Latin term bears little
substantive difference from the former Greek term. See Robert Dahl, Democracy and Its
Critics (Yale Univ. Press 1989).
Central
to both direct and representative government schemes is the substantive notion
that people should be governed by laws they choose. Since the United States is
a Constitutional Democracy, there are obvious limits to legislative power—the
people cannot choose laws that abrogate constitutionally protected rights,
although a supermajority can amend the constitution to abrogate rights.
“Tyranny of the majority” is often the rallying cry in favor of judicial review
of legislation. But this charge is often unwarranted because its proponent’s
often fail to account for the judiciary being infected with the same prejudices
or irrational passions of the majority or pathological loyalty to party
platforms or to political elites. There are also other problems with the
“tyranny of the majority” mantra. See Daniel R. Correa, Taking Democracy
Seriously: Toward a Jury Centered Jurisprudence, 22:2 Va. J. Soc. Pol’y
& the Law 307 (2015).
Contemporary
American Jurisprudence must focus on how to mitigate the effects of
partisanship in the judiciary, whether judges are appointed or elected, perhaps
especially if they are elected. Citizen jury panels provide a great starting
point. How can we better utilize jury panels, as representatives of their
respective communities, to temper the effects of judicial partisanship?
It
is also important to look at the power of judicial review. There are
alternatives to strong-judicial
review—a practice whereby the judiciary reviews legislation with an option to
decline to apply it and invalidate it. Other legislation review procedures
closely hewn to democratic norms may replace strong-judicial review, even a
weaker form of judicial review, a form of review designed to make a legislative
body aware that some legislation may not conform to individual rights without
judicial power to invalidate the legislation.
If
anything good comes from hyper-partisanship in the federal judicial nomination
process, it is that people pay attention to the judiciary. This time is as good as any to place
the judiciary under a microscope and consider institutional changes.
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