About This Blog

Judging Crimes is a blog about criminal law, violent crime and the judiciary, dedicated to making the liberal case for greater democratic control of the criminal justice system.  It's a "view from the trenches" because it's written by a practitioner, not an academic or journalist.  It examines the changing role of the judiciary in American society by looking at what judges actually do, rather than what they say.  I know what they do because I deal with the consequences every day. 

Opinions issued by judges, from Supreme Court justices on down, are justifications for the exercise of governmental power.  But it is the exercise of power itself that should command our attention, not the justifications.  Judging Crimes is concerned with the reality of judicial power rather than the verbal formulas used to defend it. 

American law professors have long liked to say they teach their students "to think like a lawyer."  Learning to think that way is a matter of internalizing certain assumptions.  The practice of judging is likewise based on a foundation of shared assumptions, among them that the United States Constitution -- a document of 8,335 words, the length of a book chapter -- provides an answer to every question.  Rather like a Ouija board.

These assumptions are so ingrained -- and their internalization is so necessary to the successful practice of law -- that most people who subscribe to them aren't even aware of having done so.  Judging Crimes will try to engage not just with the expressions of judicial power, but with the assumptions on which those expressions  rest.  

Judging Crimes won't be filled with daily entries commenting on the day's events or provide a best-of-the-web welter of links.  Many other blogs already do that, far better than I could hope to do.  (Check out these.)  Instead, Judging Crimes will contain pieces of a length that might seem long for a blog but would be short in a serious magazine.  I hope to post new pieces several times a week.

Powered by Squarespace
What's not to like?

Hit the "like" button on Facebook to be notified of mini-blog entries and new posts and columns.

In Our Name
Test Drive the Book!
« 121. The burden of not deciding cases | Main | 119. Truth, untruth and voir dire »
Tuesday
Jun062006

120. Alito vs. Scalia vs. Scalia

Tony Mauro has a piece at Legal Times / Law.com about an Alito / Scalia "spat":

Just four months after joining the Supreme Court, Samuel Alito Jr. on Monday joined the club of jurists who have been targets of Justice Antonin Scalia's wrath.

Alito wrote Zedner v. United States for a unanimous Court on Monday, siding with a criminal defendant in a dispute over interpretation of the Speedy Trial Act. But Scalia, while joining the decision, wrote a concurrence criticizing Alito for citing the legislative history of the statute, which Scalia believes is irrelevant.

"Because the use of legislative history is illegitimate and ill advised in the interpretation of any statute -- and especially a statute that is clear on its face -- I do not join this portion of the Court's opinion," Scalia wrote.

Mauro sees this as evidence that Alito won't be Scalia's "consistent conservative ally and friend. ...   Alito's use of legislative history places him closer to the camp of moderate-liberal Justice Stephen Breyer, who last year warned in his book Active Liberty of 'the danger that lurks where judges rely too heavily on text.'"

That seems like way, way too much to read into the episode.  Scalia makes two points in his little concurrence, and the one Mauro doesn't highlight is at least as interesting as the other:

It may seem that there is no harm in using committee reports and other such sources when they are merely in accord with the plain meaning of the Act. But this sort of intellectual piling-on has addictive consequences.

The superfluity of the appeal to legislative history suggests that Alito is letting his clerks write his opinions.  Just because some clerk dug up some interesting little tidbit in his or her researches is, or ought to be, an insufficient reason for stuffing the tidbit into an opinion.   Little Jack Horner has reason to be proud of the plum he found - and you don't graduate first from Harvard Law if you don't live for the tingling sensation of hearing august professors say what a good boy you are.  But a disciplined justice would eliminate the dead space in the middle of his opinion.

Then again, a disciplined justice (an oxymoron?) would also refrain from using snappy but meaningless phrases such as "addictive consequences."  I don't think Scalia meant that the consequences of the practice are addictive, as opposed to the practice itself, but that's what he said.  But even his intended meaning is no more than a lazy metaphor, nearly as stale as Breyer's lurking danger - both are drawn from that "huge dump of worn-out metaphors which have lost all evocative power and are merely used because they save people the trouble of inventing phrases for themselves." 

(The linked website presents Orwell's rules of clear writing in chart form.  It's a handy guide to legal writing - everything Orwell said to avoid, lawyers and judges, and their Little Jack (and Jill) Horner clerks, routinely do.   An equally-useful guide to the thinking habits of lawyers is also available on the web.  You could pick any volume of any West reporter off the shelf randomly and find within its covers at least one example of every one of the sophistries catalogued by Aristotle 2,350 years ago.)

But the part of Scalia's little concurrence that Mauro commented upon is interesting for reasons unrelated to the Scalia-Alito palship, too.  Here's what Scalia wrote:

I believe that the only language that constitutes “a Law” within the meaning of the Bicameralism and Presentment Clause of Article I, §7, and hence the only language adopted in a fashion that entitles it to our attention, is the text of the enacted statute. ... 
[Alito's reference to legislative history] accustoms us to believing that what is said by a single person in a floor debate or by a committee report represents the view of Congress as a whole—so that we sometimes even will say (when referring to a floor statement and committee report) that “Congress has expressed” thus-and-so. See, e.g.,  Conroy, supra, at 516–517. There is no basis either in law or in reality for this naive belief. ...  Because the use of legislative history is illegitimate and ill advised in the interpretation of any statute—and especially a statute that is clear on its face—I do not join this portion of the Court’s opinion.

Scalia's point is a valid one, I think.  There are, after all, 535 members of Congress, which means 535 sets of motivation.  But then, why isn't the point even more valid when used to describe the intent of the Framers (whoever they were)?  (See post 79 and post 81.)  Why does Scalia himself so often quote the words of individuals for purposes of illustrating the unified intent of all the Framers?  (See post 30.)

I've long wondered if there were any intellectually honest way to reconcile Scalia's theory of statutory interpretation with his theory of constitutional interpretation.  I keep thinking that Scalia himself must be aware of the seeming contradiction and must have written a long, bullying and amusing explanation of why people like me are morons to doubt him.  But I've never seen it.

Reader Comments (2)

freelance writer
July 21, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterHOLDERMisty25
freelance writer
July 27, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterJoanneHUNTER

PostPost a New Comment

Enter your information below to add a new comment.

My response is on my own website »
Author Email (optional):
Author URL (optional):
Post:
 
All HTML will be escaped. Hyperlinks will be created for URLs automatically.