On Trump’s Eligibility to Run for President: Who Decides?

The 14^th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution “bans anyone who took an oath to uphold the Constitution but who subsequently ‘engaged in insurrection or rebellion against,’ or gave ‘aid or comfort of the enemies’ of the Constitution from seeking any federal or state office.”[1] Did Donald Trump, when he was President of the United States, engage in insurrection? Furthermore, who decides this and bars him from office?

During the summer of 2023, lawyers opined on whether Don Trump is eligible to run for the U.S. presidency in 2024. It is one thing for lawyers on law-school faculties to decide whether Donald Trump, a former U.S. President as of 2023, is ineligible to run for president in 2024; it is quite another thing for the U.S. Supreme Court to make the determination; only the latter has governmental legitimacy that can legally be enforced, for the U.S. Constitution gives the federal supreme court the task of interpreting that constitution. In this case, the high court would be in the position of making decisions of fact—did Trump engage in an insurrection—and applying that decision to the 14^th Amendment. “The question of Donald Trump’s disqualification under the 14^th Amendment will be decided by the Supreme Court,” Michael Luttig, a conservative former federal appellate judge said in 2023.[2] Aside from the prediction, I contend that it should be.

The comment made by Luttig, who had actually been a judge, didn’t stop lawyers who teach at law schools from writing as if their own opinion were enough to render the former president ineligible to run for president. Just because someone ventures an opinion does not make it so. Even lawyers who specialize on writing in the field of constitutional law are, after all, merely private citizens like the rest of us. Of course, they, along with the rest of the American electorate, could decide indirectly through voting for or against Don Trump on the basis of determinations of whether he engaged in an insurrection. There are several problems with this method.

First, the voters would need to know how the framers used the word, insurrection, assuming an original intent hermeneutic, or else what the word means in its legal sense in 2023. The electorate would also have to “research”—and some potential voters put me off when I canvassed door to door by saying that they needed to research the candidates (yeah, right)—the Trumps various actions that could be considered to be insurrectionist: urging a crowd to pressure Congress on January 6, 2020 when it was counting the states’ respective ballots of electors, telling Vice President Pence that he had the authority to substitute slates of Trump electors in Arizona, Georgia, and other states, pressuring election officials in Georgia to “find” votes so Trump would win the state, and considering the use of the military on the capitol so Congress would use his slates of electors in states that he lost. Thomas Jefferson and John Adams agreed in retirement that an educated and virtuous citizenry is essential to the viability of a republic. They are also necessary for an electorate to apply constitutional vigor even to a candidate whom some voters like.

Secondly, letting the voters decide cannot keep Trump off any ballot prior to the election, not to mention prior to the Republican Party’s nomination process, because an election is the means by which voters would decide Trump’s fate. Former New Jersey governor Chris Kristy’s assertion, “The voters of our party are going to need to determine this question,” is neither competent nor fair to the Republic Party. An election before the election might be feasible, but then perhaps the first election would then de facto be the presidential election itself.

Deciding the matter by whatever means after the Republican Party’s convention would not be fair to the party. If election officials or a court later decide that Trump is ineligible, the party would suddenly be left, after its convention, without a nominee for president.[3] Because the U.S. Supreme Court “keeps its own schedule and is not bound by electoral deadlines, there exists the possibility that Trump could lock down enough delegates to win the Republican nomination—or even be officially nominated—only to be subsequently removed from the presidential ballot.”[4] Perhaps in such a case the Republican National Committee would be tasked with selecting the nominee, opening the door to the possibility of “back room” political deal-making and even bribes. That rather undemocratic consequence would be ironic if the people had been the deciders in a special election or referendum.

So, leaving the matter up to the voters is problematic; the matter of a nominee could ironically be decided by committee. That leaves us with either election officials acting independently of each other or all together, or the U.S. Supreme Court justices to decide. Just because some citizens claim that Trump is ineligible to run for office does not make it so. That almost all lawyers teaching constitutional law in the United States have only one—hence undergraduate—degree in law is all the more reason why their writings should not be taken as binding for election officials. Even if “the case is not even close,” as William Baude and Michael Paulsen wrote, it is not necessarily the case that, “All who are committed to the Constitution should take note and say so.”[5] Not only are articles in law reviews, whose editors are undergraduate law students, not objective analysis at least in constitutional law; such writings can be deemed political, and even instances of political activism claiming that readers should take action of a political sort.

But should election officials of local, state, or federal jurisdiction be the deciders? I contend that they should not. Firstly, if even just a few officials at the local or state level decide to exclude Don Trump, then the judgment in favor of Trump by other election officials would be impaired because he would not be on the ballot in every locale or state. It would be extra-constitutional (i.e., outside of the constitution) should all of the officials in the U.S. vote on whether to exclude him, for all of the officials, as a group, are not organized as a group constitutionally. Secondly, election officials do not necessarily have expertise on what exactly constitutes insurrection. Thirdly, they would inevitably be sued, whatever they decide, so the U.S. Supreme Court would be the final decider anyway.

An alternative way that the high court could wind up deciding on Trump’s eligibility would be deciding the inevitable appeal that would be made if Trump will have been found guilty of insurrection by a jury. It is significant that Trump had not been indicted on the charge of insurrection even though 91 charges were leveled against him as of August, 2023. Presumably Jack Smith, a Special Council in the U.S. Justice Department, would have charged the former president with insurrection had evidence existed to support that particular charge. Unlike the lawyers who teach in law schools, Smith had a formal means—a grand jury and a court with a judge—to make the charge, and he did not. Smith also had access to the evidence, which lawyers in law schools did not have. So, it is odd that the lawyers who claimed that Trump had engaged in an insurrection did so knowing that Smith had decided not to level that charge. Even stranger would be such a lawyer presuming that one’s opinion, whether in an interview or argued in an article in a law school’s undergraduate publication, is sufficient for election officials to keep Trump off their respective ballots.

In short, it could be argued that because Trump has not even been charged with insurrection, he cannot be found to be ineligible for office based on insurrectionist activities. It could also be argued, however, that the inclusion of insurrection in the 14^th Amendment is a political rather than a judicial matter. Under this reading, Congress could pass a law—rather than using the word insurrection for January 6^th in an award given to three Capitol Hill police employees—declaring that Trump engaged in an insurrection, and the high court would decide the inevitable constitutional challenge in court. But unlike impeaching and removing a president from office, no constitutional language supports applying the political process of how a bill becomes law.

Of all the chatter by experts and non-experts alike, the fact that Jack Smith did not charge Don Trump with having engaged in an insurrection is most salient to me in this case. To be sure, the U.S. Supreme Court justices could find that if he is found guilty of any of the existing charges bearing on January 6^, 2020, pressuring Georgian officials to “find” votes, or instigating false slates of electors in a few states, that they constitute insurrectionist activities.  The “finding” of votes, such as probably happened in Chicago in 1960 for Kennedy, constitutes garden-variety corruption in American politics, however. Even so, the justices could find on their own that Trump is guilty of fomenting or agitating an insurrection. The justices would need a suit to be brought to the court, however.

The legitimacy of the court as the final arbiter hinges on the nonpartisan nature of a judicial ruling that is based on legal reasoning. Unfortunately, the U.S. Supreme Court had its legitimacy tarnished by imprints of politics. In 2023, the media reported that Justice Sandra Day O’Conner had written the majority opinion of Bush v. Gore (2000)—the case that effectively handed the presidency to George H.W. Bush—before even the oral arguments. She had been a Republican legislator in the Arizona legislature. In signing onto the court’s majority opinion in Dodds v. Jackson (2022), which overturned both Roe v Wade (1973) and Planned Parenthood v. Casey (1992), some of the justices reneged on their confirmation-hearing statements that they would respect Roe v. Wade as precedent on abortion. All of those justices had been nominated by Republican presidents. In this context, the court’s ruling on whether Don Trump is ineligible to run for president would likely be seen as political, especially if the majority were to hold that he is ineligible even though the Special Counsel had not included insurrection among the charges bearing on the riot at the Capitol on January 6, 2020. The need for an impartial, judicially-oriented supreme court could not be more; in fact, the eventual undoing of the United States might be triggered by the absence of any such honest broker outside the reach of political factions.

---

[1] S.V. Date, “Trump May Need Supreme Court To Say His Coup Attempt Does Not Violate Constitution,” The Huffington Post, September 2, 2023.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Ibid.
[5] Ibid.

On the Role of Partisan Political Ideology in the U.S. Supreme Court

Observing a pattern of sustained ideological proclivities in the decisions of justices of the U.S. Supreme Court, The New York Times editorialized in 2011 that the “court cannot maintain its legitimacy as guardian of the rule of law when justices behave like politicians.”[1] One could just as easily say behave like human beings, for juridical interpretation itself contains ample space for an interpreter’s ideology to have a role, especially given human nature that is apt to exploit such leeway. In other words, ideology may be part and parcel of the essential function of a constitutional court, given the nature of juridical interpretation. 
Rather than being a technical application sans discretion of a constitution to a matter of law, constitutional interpretation may be one of many ways of pushing for one’s view of the optimal government and society. Accordingly, the arrangement wherein a constitutional court is the final decider of the constitutionality of law, short of a constitutional amendment, may be criticized because it enables the ideologies of a few unelected jurispruds to rule, in effect, or have the last word.

The editorial in The New York Times displays a tendency to skirt the basis of the problem. For example, the editorial castigates justices who have attended political events in violation of the ethics code that applies to the rest of the federal judiciary. Such conduct compromises the appearance of being impartial and independent. This appearance in turn is based on the presupposition that the judiciary is not a political branch. Justice Ginsburg, for example, makes this assumption explicit in pointing to its tenuousness: “What I care most about I think most of my colleagues do, too, is that we want this institution to maintain the position that it has had in this system, where it is not considered a political branch of government.”[2] 

I contend that not considering the U.S. Supreme Court as involving political ideology is to ignore the space for ideology allowed in constitutional interpretation. No human being is impartial internally concerning matters of government and society. Beyond the reach of ethics codes, the space allowed by interpretation is naturally to be filled not only by “pure reason,” but also by ideology informed by one’s values and beliefs concerning the good society and ideal governance.

In the Court’s 2010-2011 term, for instance, ten of the sixteen 5-4 decisions were split along the familiar ideological grounds. The conservative majority showed “contempt for laws that provide some balance to the unlimited amounts of money flooding the political system,” “made it much harder for private lawsuits to succeed against mutual fund malefactors, even when they have admitted to lying and cheating,” made it more difficult for citizens to hold prosecutors accountable, and struck at consumer (ATT) and labor (Wal-Mart) rights.[3] The similarity between this judicial conservative majority and the political right makes these rulings particularly suspect. Were the Court’s “conservative” majority conservative in a distinctly judicial sense distinct from the planks of political conservatives, the role of the judicial ideology would not be as harmful or baleful to the republic. The fear, in other words, is that politically partisan agendas operate through judicial decisions of the Court via the discretion involved in judicial interpretation. Conservatives had a sense of this from the Warren Court just as liberals suspect the influence of politically conservative ideology in the Rehnquist and Roberts Courts. Neither conservatives nor liberals go far enough, however, in recognizing that constitutional interpretation itself allows for ideology.

The Times points to the superficial distinction that informs the design of the U.S. Supreme Court. “The framers of the Constitution envisioned law as having authority apart from politics. They gave justices life tenure so they would be free to upset the powerful and have no need to cultivate political support.”[4] However, the source of the political ideology is less due to political support and more a function of a justice’s own ideology. This is why an ethics code ought not be relied upon to eviscerate the interlarding of partisan politics in the Court. The justices are human, all too human, just like the rest of us. Perhaps we ought not assume otherwise.

The editorial touches on the inevitability of partisan ideology in the Court in the following passage: “Constitutional law is political because it results from choices rooted in fundamental social concepts like liberty and property. When the court deals with social policy decisions, the law it shapes is inescapably political — which is why decisions split along ideological lines are so easily dismissed as partisan.”[5] Being “dismissed” as partisan might be too loose; the decisions cannot but contain a partisan element, given human nature and the space in interpretation.

Rather than expecting the justices not to be human or assuming that an ethics code would do the trick, we could admit to the inevitability of political ideology in judicial interpretation. If the ideologies of five to nine citizens who serve on the U.S. Supreme Court ought not be definitive, judicial review ought not be the final decider short of constitutional amendment. A supermajority in the U.S. House and U.S. Senate, or a supermajority of the state legislatures, could be given the authority to overturn a decision of the U.S. Supreme Court. I would suggest that both Congress and the state governments could act thus to have the final say short of undergoing the constitutional amendment process. All branches of all governments in the United States are duty-bound, after all, to consider the constitutionality of their respective laws. Constitutional interpretation is an exercise not devoid of political ideology, as one’s values and beliefs cannot but come into play.

1. The New York Times, “Ethics, Politics and the Law,” Editorial, July 1, 2011, p. A22.

2. Joan Biskupic, “Justice Ginsburg Wields Greater Sway on High Court,” USA Today, July 1-4, 2011, p. A1.
3. The New York Times, “Ethics, Politics and the Law,”
4. Ibid.
5. Ibid.

The Case for a Presiding President in Russia

On December 31, 2010, a Russian judge sentenced Mikhail Khodorkovsky, the Russian tycoon who had been imprisoned in 2003 after defying Vladimir Putin, to an additional six years in prison. According to The New York Times, "It was a politically tinged decision that undermined President Dmitri Medvodev."[1] Leonid Goman of the Right Cause Party in Russia agreed. "It was obviously a political, not a judicial, decision." He went on to say that in general terms, "corruption is endemic, government power is often abused and senior politicians are rarely, if ever, held accountable for misdeeds."[2]  Clearly, Prime Minister Putin was still very much in control in Russia.  His message was that wealthy businessmen should not interfere in Russian politics. What a contrast to American politics, especially after the U.S. Supreme Court's Citizens United case!  Khodorkovsky was at one time the richest person in Russia, having been one of the oligarchs who bought government assets at bargain prices after the fall of the USSR, but he financed opposition parties in a political system that was anything but democratic.

Analysis:

This case points to the importance of separating a judiciary from executive and legislative branches of government, as in the E.U. and U.S. The fragile nature of a judiciary's credibility can be of dangerous ground even when the branches are separated. But in Russia technically under President Medvodev in 2010, a court doing the bidding of a powerful prime minister (in name only) contributes to the demotion of the credibility of the country's judiciary. Ultimately, the president of a country is charged with presiding over its system of government with an eye towards protecting it as a going concern.  

For example, U.S. President Andrew Jackson in the early 1830's looked out for the viability of the country's federal system by pushing Congress back on its tariff that hurt South Carolina and pushing the latter to repeal its Acts by which federal law could be nullified. He also vetoed a bill that, if enacted, would have allowed Congress to appropriate money for what was really a state road in Missouri. The President's focus was on maintaining the balance between the federal level and that of the member-states that is so important to maintaining a viable federal system in the long term. 

In the case of Russia, the problem concerning the political use of the court was that neither the president nor prime minister were interested in safeguarding the judiciary's long-term viability, for they prostituted it for political expediency. I submit, moreover, that most governments have lacked a presiding president, by which I mean a president who is primarily fixated on maintaining the continued viability of the system of government, including its credibility. It is too easy for voters to elect partisans who are more focused on their respective ideological agendas than putting the system itself first. Similarly, it is too easy for dictators to use all branches of government to consolidate more power for themselves or their party rather than to protect the viability of the branches, including how they are related, rather than to be primarily oriented to presiding over the system as a whole. 

See related essay: "On the Eclipse of Russian Federalism: Implications for the E.U."

1. Clifford Levy, "Russia Extends Prison Sentence of Tycoon 6 Years,” The New York Times, December 31, 2010, p. A1.
2. Ibid. 

A Gay Judge on California's Anti-Marriage Proposition in 2010: A Judicial Conflict of Interest?

In 2010, Chief Federal District Judge Vaughn Walker issued a ruling that declared Proposition 8 (against gay marriage) an unconstitutional violation of gay Californians’ civil rights. After retiring in February of the next year, the judge revealed that he was in a 10-year-old relationship with a same-sex partner. The question is whether a reasonable belief that the judge would stand to benefit from the ruling means that there was a personal conflict of interest sufficient to have the judge’s ruling vacated. Amid the emotions swirling around issues such as gay marriage that involve the uneasy mix of personal matters and public scrutiny, an urgent need exists for ethicists and jurispruds to isolate the pernicious problems inherent in the conflict of interest phenomenon so we all can have faith that such issues are decided impartially in substance as well as appearance.
Andrew Pugno, one of the lawyers defending Proposition 8, has stated that the Judge Walker’s long-term relationship “creates this unavoidable impression that he was just not the impartial judge that the law requires.” That the judge withheld the information until well after his ruling suggests that even he may have thought the very existence of his relationship (even aside from any intention to wed) would be sufficient to trigger claims of a conflict of interest because he could stand to benefit personally from the ruling, according to the lawyer. Therefore, the conflict of interest lies not in the judge’s sexual orientation or in his particular state of mind, but, rather, in his being in a long-term relationship that could benefit from the option to marry. Obviating a personal conflict of interest based solely on one’s sexual orientation would be too general and it would constitute prejudice. Likewise, deciding another’s intentions is too subjective a basis for a judicial ruling on a conflict of interest.

A reasonable conclusion that a person stands in a particular position to gain a specific benefit can carry muster in a legal ruling dealing with a person’s conflict of interest. According to Pugno, it is “all about the fundamental principle that a judge really can’t sit to hear their own case when they have an interest in the outcome.”  

In deciding on whether Walker should have recused himself, Judge Ware conflates particular and general interests, arguing in effect that the former do not constitute a conflict of interest because the latter should not. "The presumption that Judge Walker, by virtue of being in a same-sex relationship, had a desire to be married that rendered him incapable of making an impartial decision, is as warrantless as the presumption that a female judge is incapable of being impartial in a case in which women seek legal relief," Ware wrote in his decision. Ware treats the specific connection of benefit between being in a 10 year same-sex relationship and having same-sex marriage legalized as equivalent to the general connection between a woman ruling on a case involving a woman.

Similarly, Ted Olson, whose wife died in the attacks on 9-11-2001, has argued that requiring judges to reveal elements of their personal lives sets a dangerous precedent. “What would a judge do who was Mormon knowing the Morman Church took such an active role” in campaigning for Proposition 8? What would a judge who had a nephew or niece or son or daughter who was gay or lesbian do? We have an unlimited number of permutations of what a judge might be asked to disclose.” In short, Olson sees a slippery slope toward a most undesirable outcome wherein recusals could be commonplace and at times for rather intimate reasons.

However, the slippery slope argument may be overdrawn, and it may be surmountable altogether, especially if one distinguishes between specific and general connections. Vikram Amar, a law instructor in California, argues that a recusal should be required because of “a specific and imminent benefit” rather than “some abstract and future benefit.”  According to Amar (and Ware), Judge Walker does not meet this test. I disagree.

That the judge was in a long-term relationship and was sufficiently old to retire means that the benefit would be both specific (i.e., him getting married) and imminent (i.e., given his age). For a couple discussing marriage, the discussion is not abstract. In fact, it can get down to whether a joint checking account would be opened and whether there would be a prenuptial agreement. Furthermore, couples who discuss marriage do not typically say, “maybe in ten or twenty years, we might get hitched.” The time frame is usually months or a few years, with a realistic expectation that a decision to marry would result in marriage.

One might counter that an intention must also exist—that it is not sufficient for a specific and imminent benefit to be possible.  For instance, in hearing the recusal case on June 13, 2011, Judge Ware asked the Prop. 8 lawyer, “I’m asking you to tell me what fact you would have the court rely on to suggest that Judge Walker wanted to change, not maintain, his relationship?” The mere fact that Judge Walker had been in a serious relationship “does not put him in the shoes of what the plaintiffs were doing, unless you cite to me some facts that he was desirous of the relief they were seeking,” Judge Ware said.

However, pegging desire is a tricky business, and far too subjective to serve as the linchpin of a judicial ruling; someone in a personal conflict of interest would only need to deny having been interested in one of the interests in conflict. When a conflict of interest is observed, the two interests involved are viewed as standing in themselves, rather than being conditional on being desired. That is, in recognizing a conflict of interest, the very existence of the interests is sufficient. Therefore, a recusal ruling should not stand on whether an intention or a desire was present. Given human nature, standing to gain is sufficient to make a conflict of interest situation sufficiently baleful that it should be eviscerated. Judge Walker stood to gain specifically and imminently even if he did not intend to marry. Therefore, we need not inquire as to his personal views or plans in order to conclude that his ruling ought to be vacated on account of his particular conflict of interest.

I would add, moreover, a criterion to Amar’s test for a personal conflict of interest in order to better counter the squalid slippery slope argument. Specifically, it is significant whether the benefit is to the person himself (or herself) or to a person or organization related to the person. To be sure, even having a relative or friend standing to benefit can be sufficient to give rise to a personal conflict of interest.

Indeed, on the very day of the recusal hearing on Judge Walker, the U.S. Supreme Court handed down a unanimous decision that state ethics rules that bar public officials from voting on matters because of a conflict of interest do not violate free-speech rights because voting is not the representative’s speech, but, rather, “a mechanical function of government.” In my view, treating voting (or  money) as speech evinces a category mistake, so Scalia’s opinion for the Court is “spot on” in this regard. For our purpose here, it is significant that the ruling approved the disputed Nevada law, which prohibits officials from “voting on an issue when their judgment could be affected by a relationship to someone in their household, a relative, business partner, or a person ‘substantially similar’ to those specified.” That is, a personal conflict of interest is assumed to extend to benefits to people bearing a significant relation to the person in the conflict.

The vagueness in the “substantially similar,” which was left to the state court to evaluate, may evince the possibility of a slippery slope in extending beyond benefit to the person himself. That is to say, extending the personal conflict of interest to include other people standing to benefit introduces a problem not present in a specific and imminent benefit to the person himself. Therefore, I contend that “benefit to the person” should be added to Amar’s criteria of specificity and temporality, with “benefit to others in a significant relation to said person” being added too, though secondarily and with receding importance as per the significance of the relation.

Even aside from the vague language, no clear boundary line exists between “significant” and “insignificant.” Nevada would have done better in using “significant relation to” and cited examples such as relative, friend, and business associate. Furthermore, a specific and imminent benefit to oneself can be localized, whereas one’s affinities to other people and organizations can be wide-open. Generally speaking, the bigger or broader the group/organization, the less an individual is apt to be invested in a benefit to it. For this reason, and because benefits to others are not as motivating as benefits to oneself (given the salience of self in self-interest, and self-interest in turn in human motivation), a distinction between “benefit to others” and “benefit to self” can and should be made in reference to personal conflicts of interest. To be sure, both are worthy of note in terms of personal conflicts of interest, but “benefit to self” ought not be held back due to problems associated with invoking “benefit to others.”

Therefore, in cases in which the person in a personal conflict of interest stands to benefit in a specific and imminent way, the slippery slope argument that can apply to “benefit to others” should not be invoked. In other words, “benefit to the person” should be added to Amar’s criteria, while “benefit to others” should be tailored so as to obviate any such slope and applied differentially depending on the degree of significance in the relation. Cases in which a spouse or close relative stands to benefit would come after “benefit to self” in importance, followed by cases involving friends and business associates. Similarly, a hierarchy can be established based on organizational affinities. For instance, a Republican would have more interest in a benefit to the Republican Party than to a more general organization such as the United Nations. My point is that discerning degrees of significance need not detract from the applicability of the “benefit to the person” criterion, or even from the secondary “benefit to others.”

Judge Walker himself stood to gain something specific and imminent that could reasonably be expected to benefit him even if he didn’t desire it at the time of the case on Proposition Eight. His standing to benefit is of more importance than had a significant relation to him, such as a gay son or daughter, stood to benefit. That is, he had a material vested interest in the ruling sufficient for him to have recused himself, given a judge’s deontological (duty-based) interest (i.e., responsibility) in being impartial—including having the appearance thereof. The latter is particularly important given the importance of legitimacy in judicial rulings (courts not having their own police force to enforce their rulings). Therefore, I contend that Vaughn Walker should have recused himself and that the Prop 8 advocates have a case in having his ruling vacated on the grounds of a conflict of interest particular to him.

Lest it be suggested that Walker should merely have made his conflict of interest known before the case, merely announcing a conflict of interest is not sufficient to nullify its force or appearance. Better than knowing that a judge has a personal conflict of interest, another can be assigned without such a conflict. As there are presumably other federal judges in California, the conflict of interest could have been easily obviated. That it was not tells me that we as a society discount the problems inherent in the conflict of interest phenomenon.

I suspect that we do not realize sufficiently the ethical problems that conflicts of interest can cause. Even if people do not always act unethically when in a personal conflict of interest, I contend that such conflicts are inherently unethical. Society seems not to agree. As a result, we do not do enough to avoid or otherwise deconstruct them. We believe that somehow such conflicts do not really matter, or that they lose their power if they are made transparent. In other words, we are a bit too naïve for our own good, and then we are surprised when someone in a conflict of interest acts unethically.

Sources:

The Associated Press, “Gay Judge Targeted for Same-Sex Marriage Ruling,” msnbc.com, June 13, 2011.
The Associated Press, “Judicial Bias Is Alleged in a Ruling on Marriage,” The New York Times, June 14, 2011.

Joan Biskupic, "High Court Says Ethics Rules Don't Violate Speech," USA Today, June 14, 2011.
Lisa Leff, “Gay Judge’s Same-Sex Marriage Ruling Upheld,” Associated Press, June 14, 2011.

See also: Institutional Conflicts of Interest, available at Amazon.

Judicial Ethics: Friendship and Philanthropy

Harlan Crow was a Dallas real estate magnate and a major contributor to conservative causes. He did many favors for his friend, Clarence Thomas, “helping finance a Savannah library project dedicated to Justice Thomas, presenting him with a Bible that belonged to Frederick Douglass and reportedly providing $500,000 for [Virginia] Thomas to start a Tea Party-related group.” The two friends spent time together at “gatherings of prominent Republicans and businesspeople at Crow’s Adirondacks estate and his camp in East Texas.” Crow also “stepped in at Thomas’ urging” to finance the multimillion-dollar purchase and restoration of the cannery that had employed the justice’s mother. Crow’s restoration “featured a museum about the culture and history of Pin Point that has become a pet project of Justice Thomas’s. . . . While the nonprofit Pin Point museum is not intended to honor Justice Thomas, people involved in the project said his role in the community’s history would inevitably be part of it, and he participated in a documentary film that is to accompany the exhibits.”

News “of Mr. Crow’s largess provoked controversy and questions, adding fuel to a rising debate about Supreme Court ethics. But Mr. Crow’s financing of the museum, his largest such act of generosity, previously unreported, raises the sharpest questions yet — both about Justice Thomas’s extrajudicial activities and about the extent to which the justices should remain exempt from the code of conduct for federal judges. Although the Supreme Court is not bound by the code, justices have said they adhere to it. Legal ethicists differed on whether Justice Thomas’s dealings with Mr. Crow pose a problem under the code.”

The code says judges “should not personally participate” in raising money for charitable endeavors, out of concern that donors might feel pressured to give or entitled to favorable treatment from the judge. In addition, judges are not even supposed to know who donates to projects honoring them. . . . (T)he restriction on fund-raising is primarily meant to deter judges from using their position to pressure donors, as opposed to relying on ‘a rich friend’ like Mr. Crow, said Ronald D. Rotunda, who teaches legal ethics at Chapman University in California.” On the other side of the argument, Deborah L. Rhode, a Stanford University law instructor who has called for stricter ethics rules for Supreme Court justices, said Justice Thomas “should not be directly involved in fund-raising activities, no matter how worthy they are or whether he’s being centrally honored by the museum.”

Ethical Analysis:

Ethical analysis is hardly an objective science. Nietzsche’s view that a philosopher’s philosophy is merely a reflection of his or her most dominant instinct expressed via cognition seems particularly relevant. In other words, out of the tussle of one’s instincts one remains and it can be expressed as one’s thought. For instance, the thought that first came to my mind in reading the Times article was that exempting U.S. Supreme Court justices from the judicial ethics code violates the ethical principle of fairness. This “first find” ethically-speaking seems to me to be the most indubitable conclusion of the case, ethically-speaking. However, my perception as well as “the salience” of the principle of fairness may have more to do with which of my instincts is most dominant in my psyche than any objective determination of ethical outcome.

The principle-instinct of fairness could be so dominant for me because it was conditioned as such through my early years. Specifically, I have a brother who is 1.5 years younger than me, and the closeness in age meant that the principle of fairness was seldom far removed when we were kids. For instance, awhile after we moved to a house my parents had had built, they made split our large, shared bedroom into two. The question not far from the surface all around was “is the space equal?”—as if square feet would matter to two boys (we eye-balled it and concluded the rooms were “fair enough”).

What instinct and supporting personal experience lies behind the lawyer’s thou shalt not claim that justices should not be involved in fundraising PERIOD? Is there an ethical principle in that asseveration? Considering that the lawyer at Stanford does not have a graduate degree in ethics (or law, for that matter), her declaration is highly likely based on a dominant instinct that has an urge to express itself in the garb of ethical language.

The lawyer at Chapman is more discerning, pointing to the purpose in the ethical prohibition on fundraising: the point is to keep justices from using their influence to get rich people to donate. In the case of Justice Thomas, it appears that Harlan Crow has wanted to make his donations. This, unlike had Thomas used his influence to secure the gifts, is not ethically problematic. The ethical problem would arise should a matter of concern to Crow come before Thomas’ court; the justice would be ethically obliged to recuse himself to obviate his personal conflict of interest. Announcing such a conflict would not be sufficient, as the underlying temptation to lean in favor of the benefactor would still exist; it would simply be apt to be better camouflaged by legalese. Of course, should a justice choose not to know the sources of beneficial donations, recusals to avoid such conflicts of interest would be less likely.

Therefore, one way to play it ethically is to allow the particular justice to decide how much he or she wants to avoid having to recuse based on knowing the identity of a benefactor. Hardly objective, this ethical strategy is one of several that are possible. It reflects empowering individual justices to determine the extent to which they want to subject themselves to the possibility of having to recuse to avoid a conflict-of-interest. The principle of boyhood fairness insists that the strategy be applicable for any federal judge, without exception. 

Last but not least, the field of judicial ethics would be better served if American law schools would follow their European counterparts in hiring legal scholars (i.e., holders of the doctorate in law, the J.S.D.). Also, a scholar of judicial ethics should have at least one degree in philosophy (ethical theory)—preferably a masters or a joint Ph.D./J.S.D.

Source:

Mike McIntire, “Friendship of Justice and Magnate Puts Focus on Ethics,” The New York Times, June 18, 2011.

Paper Tigers: Firewalls Forestalling Institutional Conflicts of Interest

Structural, or institutional, conflicts of interest are of great significance in applied ethics, even though they often play second fiddle to the conflicts centered on a person’s particular interests. An organizational or institutional conflict of interest, whether within one organization or in the arrangements between organizations, is not any less unethical than a personal conflict of interest.  Therefore, when we take the claims of vested organizational interests that their internal firewalls are more than just paper tigers at face value, our foolhardiness can really be at our detriment. I present a few cases to suggest that “firewalls” in an organization to prevent it from a conflict of interest are, in general, insufficient and thus ought not be relied on. Instead, the public (or government regulatory agencies) should insist that one of the two interests in an institutional conflict of interest be given up.

The full essay is at Institutional Conflicts of Interest, available at Amazon.