influence. But his raw intelligence and knowledge of the Court’s rules—along with his willingness to stroke the bigger egos of his colleagues—gave him a crucial advantage. To break the logjam on Casey , Stevens threatened to write a dissenting opinion on Rehnquist’s decision to relist the case. (Blackmun said he would join Stevens in the public protest.) Relisting was usually a purely procedural matter utterly unfamiliar to the general public. As far as anyone could tell, no justice had ever written an opinion dissenting from a relisting. That was the point. Stevens knew that to write one now—and to accuse Rehnquist of stalling because of abortion politics in a presidential election—would create a sensation. Rehnquist, ever mindful of protecting the Court’s reputation as well as his own, backed down. He agreed to put the case on the calendar, and on January 21, 1992, the Court announced that it would hear the Casey appeal on April 22—the final day of argument for the term and the last chance to have the case decided by Election Day.
At the conference where the justices agreed to take Casey , David Souter pointed out that there was still one more matter to settle. The Court often adopted the “Questions Presented” in the brief of the appealing party, but Souter didn’t like the provocative one that Kolbert had submitted. In a memo to his colleagues, Souter said, “I suggested that the question be rephrased.” Souter did not want to acknowledge that the only choice in Casey was to make an up-or-down judgment on Roe . He wanted the flexibility to rule on the specifics of the Pennsylvania statute, without necessarily passing on the ultimate issue of Roe v. Wade . In his memo, Souter proposed “that a question be added specifically addressing the issue of precedent: What weight is due to considerations of stare decisis in evaluating the constitutional right to abortion?” Stare decisis, which means “to stand by that which is decided,” is the Latin term for the rule of precedent. Souter’s colleagues ultimately decided not to use his question, preferring instead to list each provision of the Pennsylvania law and ask whether each was constitutional. But Souter’s question still turned out to be the most important one in the case.
Few justices had rockier debuts than David Souter. He was sworn in on October 8, 1990, a week after the Court’s term started, and he never managed to catch up with the work his first year. By the spring of 1991, months had passed without an opinion from him. Finally, he delivered six opinions in the final month, but overall his performance had been embarrassing. At least, in that first term, the Republicans who supported Souter had reason to be pleased, for his record was decidedly conservative. He had joined Rehnquist and Scalia in most of the big cases that year, including one that touched on abortion. In Rust v. Sullivan , he cast the key vote in a 5–4 decision that upheld the so-called abortion gag rule, which forbade doctors who received federal funds from even mentioning abortion to their patients.
At first, Souter’s eccentricities drew more notice around the Court than his jurisprudence. Fifty-two years old and a lifelong bachelor, he had the habits of a gentleman from another century. During the day, he would leave the lights off in his office and maneuver his chair around the room, reading briefs by the sun. He ate the same thing for lunch every day: an entire apple, including the core and seeds, with a cup of yogurt. When the justices sat together in their dining room, the two items would be delivered to Souter on the same fine china that served his colleagues; Souter was familiar with Coca-Cola, but he had never heard of a beverage that several of the other justices favored—Diet Coke. Souter did all his writing by fountain pen. Perhaps the best-known fact about the new justice was that when Warren Rudman, the New Hampshire senator who was Souter’s
At the conference where the justices agreed to take Casey , David Souter pointed out that there was still one more matter to settle. The Court often adopted the “Questions Presented” in the brief of the appealing party, but Souter didn’t like the provocative one that Kolbert had submitted. In a memo to his colleagues, Souter said, “I suggested that the question be rephrased.” Souter did not want to acknowledge that the only choice in Casey was to make an up-or-down judgment on Roe . He wanted the flexibility to rule on the specifics of the Pennsylvania statute, without necessarily passing on the ultimate issue of Roe v. Wade . In his memo, Souter proposed “that a question be added specifically addressing the issue of precedent: What weight is due to considerations of stare decisis in evaluating the constitutional right to abortion?” Stare decisis, which means “to stand by that which is decided,” is the Latin term for the rule of precedent. Souter’s colleagues ultimately decided not to use his question, preferring instead to list each provision of the Pennsylvania law and ask whether each was constitutional. But Souter’s question still turned out to be the most important one in the case.
Few justices had rockier debuts than David Souter. He was sworn in on October 8, 1990, a week after the Court’s term started, and he never managed to catch up with the work his first year. By the spring of 1991, months had passed without an opinion from him. Finally, he delivered six opinions in the final month, but overall his performance had been embarrassing. At least, in that first term, the Republicans who supported Souter had reason to be pleased, for his record was decidedly conservative. He had joined Rehnquist and Scalia in most of the big cases that year, including one that touched on abortion. In Rust v. Sullivan , he cast the key vote in a 5–4 decision that upheld the so-called abortion gag rule, which forbade doctors who received federal funds from even mentioning abortion to their patients.
At first, Souter’s eccentricities drew more notice around the Court than his jurisprudence. Fifty-two years old and a lifelong bachelor, he had the habits of a gentleman from another century. During the day, he would leave the lights off in his office and maneuver his chair around the room, reading briefs by the sun. He ate the same thing for lunch every day: an entire apple, including the core and seeds, with a cup of yogurt. When the justices sat together in their dining room, the two items would be delivered to Souter on the same fine china that served his colleagues; Souter was familiar with Coca-Cola, but he had never heard of a beverage that several of the other justices favored—Diet Coke. Souter did all his writing by fountain pen. Perhaps the best-known fact about the new justice was that when Warren Rudman, the New Hampshire senator who was Souter’s
Similar Books
