Michael Waldman ran the speechwriting department in Bill Clinton’s White House. His new book about the conservative supermajority which dominates the supreme court is written with the verve of great campaign oratory.
Waldman is also a learned lawyer, president of the Brennan Center for Justice at New York University School of Law, and a talented popular historian. His new book focuses on three horrendous decisions the court rendered at the end of its term one year ago, but it includes a brisk history the court of the last 200 years, from the disastrous lows of Dred Scott v Sandford (1857) and Plessy v Ferguson (1896) to the highs of Brown v Board of Education (1954) and Obergefell v Hodges (2015).
But the longest analysis is devoted to those three days in June 2022 when the court “crammed decades of social change into three days”.
Waldman writes: “It overturned Roe v Wade [on abortion] … putting at risk all other privacy rights. It radically loosened curbs on guns, amid an epidemic of mass shootings. And it hobbled the ability of government agencies to protect public health and safety and stop climate change.”
These decisions were the work “of a little group of willful men and women, ripping up long-settled aspects of American life for no reason beyond the fact that they can”.
Waldman describes how earlier extreme decisions of the court provoked gigantic national backlashes.
The civil war started just four years after the court held in Dred Scott that African Americans could not sue in federal court because they could not be citizens of the United States.
In May 1935, the “Black Monday decisions” obliterated key parts of Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal, including striking down the National Recovery Administration. Those rulings led to Roosevelt’s unsuccessful plan to expand the size of the court, which in turn led the court to reverse its position on the New Deal, suddenly upholding Social Security and the National Labor Relations Act. Referring to the number of justices on the court, one newspaper humorist called it “the switch in time that saved nine”.
Waldman describes the current make-up of the court as the ultimate outcome of the longest backlash of all – the one to the court led by Earl Warren, who crafted the unanimous opinion in Brown, outlawing segregation in public schools.
Equally important were decisions requiring legislative districts to have equal populations. Before Reynolds v Sims in 1964, nearly 40% of the population of California lived in Los Angeles but the state constitution awarded that county just one of 40 state senators. Proclaiming the revolutionary doctrine of “one person, one vote”, the court said: “Legislators represent people, not trees or acres.” By 1968, 93 of 99 state legislatures had redrawn their districts to comply.
But these vital building blocks of modern American democracy coincided with the dramatic social changes of the 1960s, including the fight for racial equality and the explosion of sexual freedom.
“The backlash to the 1960s lasted much longer than the 1960s did,” Waldman observes. “Most of us have spent most of our lives living in it.”
Richard Nixon’s 1968 campaign was the first to capitalize on this backlash. A young campaign aide, Kevin Phillips, explained the plan to the journalist Garry Wills: “The whole secret of politics” was “knowing who hates who”, a theory that reached its apotheosis 50 years later with the ascendance of Donald Trump.
The problem for America was that most of the energy on the left dissipated after the election of Nixon. At the same time, the right began a decades-long battle to turn back the clock. For 50 years, the right has had overwhelming organizational energy: it built a huge infrastructure of think tanks and political action committees that culminated with the election of Trump and his appointment of the three justices who cemented the rightwing supermajority.
Recent reports have highlighted the enormous amounts of money that have directly benefitted justices John Roberts and Clarence Thomas (never mind Thomas’s own gifts from Harlan Crow) through payments to their wives. Waldman reminds us how long this has been going on. Way back in 2012, Common Cause charged that Thomas failed to disclose nearly $700,000 from the Heritage Foundation to his wife, forcing him amend 20 years of filings.
Waldman is particularly good at explaining how earlier rulings have accelerated the infusion of gigantic sums that have corrupted American politics. Most important of course was Citizens United v Federal Election Commission, in 2010, when five justices including Roberts “undid a century of campaign finance law”.
Citizens United made it possible for corporations and unions to spend unlimited sums in federal elections as long as they plausibly pretended they were independent of the candidates they backed. As Waldman writes, quickly “that proved illusory, as presidential contenders … raised hundreds of millions of dollars for their campaigns, all of it supposedly independent”.
This was the beginning of the Roberts majority’s use of the first amendment guarantee of free speech “to undermine democracy, a constitutional contradiction”. Two years after Citizens United, the court eliminated “a long-standing cap on the amount” individuals could give to federal candidates.
These rulings “remade American politics”, Waldman writes. “In the new Gilded Age of fantastically concentrated wealth, billionaires again dominated the electoral system.”
The shift was dramatic “and largely unremarked”. In 2010, billionaires spent about $31m in federal races. A decade later they spent $2.2bn. Last year, Peter Thiel provided nearly $30m in “independent funds” to support JD Vance in Ohio and Blake Masters in Arizona.
Waldman concludes that the court has become a serious threat to American democracy. He suggests our only hope is that Democratic successes in last year’s midterms – many based on fury over the fall of Roe v Wade – mark the beginning of a backlash against the rightwing revolution the court now shamelessly promotes.