The Wall Street Journal has an interesting profile this weekend of Associate Justice Clarence Thomas:
Upon entering his spacious office overlooking the Capitol Dome in Washington, D.C., the first thing to catch your eye is his Nebraska Cornhuskers screen saver. Mr. Thomas never attended the University of Nebraska, or even lived in the state. He’s just a fan. His office is also decorated with pictures of the historical figures he admires, Frederick Douglass, Abraham Lincoln, Booker T. Washington, Thomas More and Winston Churchill, and he speaks of them with knowledge and passion. Watching over all is a bust of his grandfather atop Mr. Thomas’s bookcase — its countenance as stern as a Roman consul. There is little doubt this man was the driving force in Mr. Thomas’s life — a fact he confirms, and which is reflected in the title of his recently published memoir, “My Grandfather’s Son.”
Mr. Thomas faced one of the most destructive and personally vicious Supreme Court confirmation hearings in American history — described at the time by Mr. Thomas himself as a “high-tech lynching.” Mr. Thomas’s opponents smeared his character and integrity. To this day, disappointed and embittered, they feel entitled to insult his qualifications, intelligence and record.
In 2004, when Mr. Thomas’s name was floated as a possible replacement for ailing Chief Justice William Rehnquist, then Senate Minority Leader Harry Reid called him an “embarrassment” to the Court, and attacked his opinions as “poorly written.”
In point of fact, Mr. Thomas’s opinions are well-written, displaying a distinctive style — a sure sign that the Justice and not his clerks does most of the writing.
As for his judicial philosophy, “I don’t put myself in a category. Maybe I am labeled as an originalist or something, but it’s not my constitution to play around with. Let’s just start with that. We’re citizens. It’s our country, it’s our constitution. I don’t feel I have any particular right to put my gloss on your constitution. My job is simply to interpret it.”
In that process, the first place to look is the document itself. “And when I can’t find something in that document or in the tradition or history around that document, then I am getting on dangerous ground. Because that’s when you drift so much more towards your own policy preferences.”
It is the insertion of those policy preferences into the interpretive process that Mr. Thomas finds particularly illegitimate. “People can say you are an originalist, I just think that we should interpret the Constitution as it’s drafted, not as we would have drafted it.”
Which is something that people on both sides of the political aisle have a tendency to do, of course.
Thomas also answers those who have questioned his judicial style:
Our job, he concludes, is “to do it right. It’s no more than that. We can talk about methodology. It’s merely a methodology. It’s not a religion. It is in the approach to doing the job right. And at bottom what it comes to, is to choose to interpret this document as carefully and as accurately and as legitimately as I can, versus inflicting my personal opinion or imposing my personal opinion on the rest of the country.”
And why doesn’t he ask questions at oral argument, a question oft-posed by critics insinuating that he is intellectually lazy or worse? Mr. Thomas chuckles wryly and observes that oral advocacy was much more important in the Court’s early days. Today, cases are thoroughly briefed by the time they reach the Supreme Court, and there is just too little time to have a meaningful conversation with the lawyers. “This is my 17th term and I haven’t found it necessary to ask a bunch of questions. I would be doing it to satisfy other people, not to do my job. Most of the answers are in the briefs. This isn’t Perry Mason.”
Unfortunately, thanks mostly to the highly charged politics that accompanied his nomination, it seems unlikely that Thomas will get the credit he deserves until long after he is off the bench.
