It was true then and, at
the end of a politically contentious term four years later, all the more true
today. For his efforts, Scalia has earned admiration from his ideological
followers and attention from court watchers and the general public. But he went
so far in the final days of the October 2014 term as to prompt debate about how
to deal with the spotlight-grabbing behavior that some commentators viewed as
tarnishing his legacy and bringing disrespect on the judiciary.
Scalia has made an
important if controversial contribution to the court’s jurisprudence by
emphasizing “original meaning” in constitutional interpretation and “plain
meaning” in statutory construction. He can also be credited with starting the
transition from the lukewarm bench of the Burger Court to the hot bench of the
Rehnquist era and the now very hot bench of the Roberts Court.
Early on in Scalia’s tenure
as a junior justice, his senior colleague Lewis F. Powell Jr. turned to another
senior colleague Thurgood Marshall to say, “Do you think he knows that the rest
of us are here?” (Credit Scalia biographer Joan Biskupic for recalling the
story in her 25th anniversary piece.) As the story illustrates,
Scalia has delighted from the start in playing the role as the court’s bad boy
or perhaps the court’s cattivo
ragazzo. But never more so than with his snarky dissents from some of
the past term’s most important decisions.
Scalia dismissed Roberts’
opinion for the six-justice majority in the Obamacare case, King v.
Burwell, as “quite absurd” and, for good measure, as “pure
applesauce.” The next day, Scalia was even more contemptuous of the majority
decision in the marriage equality case, Obergefell v.
Hodges. He managed simultaneously to insult the author of the
decision, Justice Anthony M. Kennedy, and the four liberal justices who joined
the opinion. After dismissing Kennedy’s attempted eloquence as “mummeries,”
Scalia sneered at the liberals for going along. “I would hide my head in a
bag,” he wrote, before joining such an opinion.
Scalia was not yet through.
In the lethal injection case, Glossip v. Gross, Scalia
mocked Justice Stephen G. Breyer for arguing in dissent that capital punishment
may be unconstitutional because of inevitable delays in carrying out executions
and because of declining public support for the death penalty. As for delays,
Scalia said that Breyer has been “the Drum Major” for judicial decisions that
slow capital cases. And he dismissed Breyer’s count of fewer states that carry
out the death penalty as “creative arithmetic.”
Scalia’s snarky dissents
are nothing new. Back in 1989, Scalia vented his anger at Justice Sandra Day
O’Connor for not providing a fifth vote to overturn the abortion rights
decision Roe v. Wade. O’Connor’s position, he said, was
“irrational” and “cannot be taken seriously.” In recalling that anecdote in
2011, the New York Times’ great Supreme Court correspondent
Linda Greenhouse said she knew of no instance when Scalia’s barbed comments had
helped sway other justices to his position.
Greenhouse might have to
amend her comment today. In June 2011, Scalia argued in dissent for ruling a
part of the Armed Career Criminal Act unconstitutional despite successive
decisions grappling with how to interpret the provision. The ruling “will sow
further confusion,” Scalia wrote. “Four times is enough.” But this term Scalia
put together a six-justice majority to rule the provision unconstitutional,
just as he had argued twice before.
Some evidence suggests,
however, that Scalia’s colleagues are at best ambivalent about his behavior. I
recall a panel discussion from years back in which O’Connor complained about
the argumentative style of unnamed ex-professors on the bench. Scalia taught at
two law schools before becoming a justice.
The liberal academic Erwin
Chemerinsky, dean of the University of California-Irvine Law School, argued
more pointedly in a post-term wrap-up that Scalia’s opinions marked a new low
for the court. “The level of personal attack and invective is something that
has never been seen in Supreme Court opinions,” Chemerinsky said. A lawyer who
put such language in a brief could be sanctioned, he said. “It’s less acceptable
from a Supreme Court justice.”
More charitably, Eric
Segall, a law professor at Georgia
State University,
says Scalia is tarnishing his legacy by “becoming . . . a caricature of the
bitter old man despondent of the good old days.” Michael Dorf, a professor at Cornell Law School,
sees the increased snarkiness from Scalia and junior justice Elena Kagan as the
inevitable product of the Internet culture. But David Kravitz, an ex-O’Connor
law clerk now in private practice in New
York City, argues with more concern that Scalia’s
“zingers” should simply be ignored. Scalia’s “zinger-laden opinions are titillating,”
Kravitz writes in The Washington Post, but “over time they
coarsen the culture.”
Alas, Scalia knows how to
tease the media into recirculating his quote-bites. The only solution, it would
seem, is an intervention by his colleagues. “Just knock it off, Nino,” one
imagines the rest of The Nine telling him. But there is little reason to think
Scalia would take the advice.
Schedule
note: This column takes a two-week break for the rest of August. If
the French can do it, so can we. See you in September.