By Benjamin Wittes
First Latina Picked for Supreme Court,” read the Washington Post’s banner headline announcing Sonia Sotomayor’s nomination to the high court. “GOP Faces Delicate Task in Opposition.”
It is worth pausing a moment over the second half of this formulation. Only a few years ago, a Supreme Court nominee like Judge Sotomayor could expect quick, nearly unanimous confirmation. She is, after all, a long-serving appellate court judge who has also served on the federal district court bench, as a prosecutor, and as a private sector attorney; she has a stellar academic background. She is, in brief, qualified for the high court in every formal sense. The degradation of the judicial confirmation process has seen many watersheds—most recently, the refusal of most Democratic Senators to support conservative nominees of sterling credentials on the suspicion that the senators would disagree with their future votes. The Post’s headline, with its assumption that Republican opposition to a qualified Democratic nominee is simply a given, represents a recognition on the part of the press that the rules have fundamentally changed.
In the past, first-day headlines concerning a qualified nominee reflected the assumption that confirmation would almost surely follow. “In Pursuit of Conservative Stamp, President Nominates Roberts,” a typical New York Times headline read as late as 2005. “Judge Ruth Ginsburg Named to High Court; Clinton's Unexpected Choice Is Women's Rights Pioneer,” the Post reported in 1993. Even the battle royal over Clarence Thomas began with a whimper from the Post’s headline writers: “Bush Picks Thomas for Supreme Court.” To be sure, headline writers would sometimes note looming ideological fights when the editors saw one coming, as the Post did with Justice Samuel Alito and newspapers did with Judge Robert Bork. But this was not the norm. And they never simply presumed that the opposition party would inevitably oppose a president’s nominee and used a first-day headline to highlight the complexity of the project of opposition.
The change in journalistic expectations regarding nominations is not a creature of media bias or press sensationalism. It reflects reality. Based on recent trends in Supreme Court nominations, Sotomayor can probably expect a minimum of 30 votes against her, maybe more like 40; if she gets fewer, her good fortune will say more about Republican fears of alienating Hispanic voters than about a renewed outbreak of comity in judicial confirmations. She can expect, as well, highly contentious questions about everything she has ever written or said. She can expect a team of operatives to spend the next few months digging up dirt on her. And she can expect insinuations of perjury before the Senate Judiciary Committee to the extent that there is any tension between her voluminous judicial work and the words she speaks in the careful dance in which she will engage with the committee.
To put the matter simply, our system has gone from one in which people like Sotomayor, Chief Justice John Roberts and Alito are shoe-ins for confirmation to a system in which they are shoe-ins for confirmation confrontations.
I wrote
Confirmation Wars three years ago because I was struggling with the question of why and how this change took place and what exactly America gets in exchange for the new presumptions we have collectively adopted, other than political battles that serve to energize both political bases. I remain convinced that the trade has been a bad one, one that offers only the crudest sort of check on executive appointments to the judiciary and that, along the way, puts nominees in the most untenable and unfair situations.
In the recent past, this argument has largely moved conservatives, for a Republican president was naming judges and Democrats in Congress and their affiliated interest groups were opposing them, deploying procedural tricks—some of them novel, some of them pioneered by Republicans during the prior administration—to block fair and timely consideration of nominees. Now, however, the tables are turned. A popular Democratic president with a strong Senate majority is naming judges, and Republicans are openly contemplating the adoption of tactics they only recently decried as unconstitutional. They will surely also adopt the premise that underlies the use of those tactics: That senators should aggressively question nominees for their views on contested legal questions and condition their votes to confirm the nominees on the answers they receive. The change in party control will, of course, produce comical hypocrisy among liberals too. They will suddenly discover a newfound appreciation for deference to presidential selections and for the obligation of nominees to remain silent in the face of precisely the sort of extortionate questioning they did so much to establish as standard fare.
In this environment, I suspect that one of the basic theses I advanced in Confirmation Wars will become once again evident: the change in the judicial confirmation process American has been experiencing over the past several decades is not fundamentally partisan in nature—an evil wrought by Democrats and liberals on the one hand or by Republicans and conservatives on the other. It is, rather, an institutional shift, a change in the Senate’s bipartisan and cross-ideological posture towards the executive and the judicial branches over time.
The current moment is a delicate one—one in which we will consummate the institutionalization of confirmation wars as a permanent feature of our political culture if we do not deliberately and self-consciously push back against it. We have to look ourselves in the mirror and ask some uncomfortable questions: Do we really want a political and legal culture in which the Washington Post quite reasonably regards it as so self-evident a reality that a highly qualified nominee will trigger the out-party’s opposition that it belongs in the first-day headline? Do we really want judges who, as a rule, take office having been roughed up by the political party opposite the president’s? Do we really prefer a confirmation environment in which neither President Bush nor President Clinton could place the highly-qualified judges of his choice on the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals to one in which that court would be enriched by the talented people of both parties to whom the Senate denied a vote? Do we really want to conduct an inquisition into the contents of a person’s soul before confirming that person to the bench? And do we really want to require that person to cooperate with the inquisition as a condition of consideration?
It is not inevitable that we do these things. We came to them through a series of unfortunate choices that altered—sometimes deliberately, sometimes unwittingly—a set of substantive and procedural confirmation norms that existed to protect the independence of America’s court system. While one can easily understand how growing judicial power over recent decades put enormous pressure on those norms, our modern confirmation process was a most unfortunate outcome. It offers dangerous opportunities for members of the Senate to pressure would-be judges for substantive outcomes once on the bench, and if offers dangerous temptations for nominees to yield to such pressure.
And eventually, a nominee will yield. Judge Sotomayor’s nomination takes place in the presence of a Democratic Senate majority strong enough that the pressure on her will be largely rhetorical; it will probably never threaten her ultimate confirmation. But sometime, probably sometime soon, a nominee will confront an opposition party capable, either by outright vote or by filibuster, of rejecting her and demanding reassurance on some substantive issue: abortion, same-sex marriage, executive power, affirmative action, or something else. And this nominee, after squirming and wriggling in the weird under-oath dance the Judiciary Committee now compels, will take the fateful step of addressing the questions directly and saying more than she should about how she thinks about contested legal questions.
Confirmation Wars was my effort to account for the road to this point—a road down which we have already driven far but along which, with a concerted bipartisan political effort, we could still begin to retreat.
Benjamin Wittes, senior fellow in Governance Studies at The Brookings Institution, and author of Confirmation Wars: Preserving Independent Courts in Angry Times, Updated 2009. His writings have appeared in a wide range of journals and magazines including Slate, The New Republic, The Wilson Quarterly, and The Weekly Standard.