Antonin Scalia was one of the most despicable, destructive, and thoroughly reactionary justices in the history of the Supreme Court (which if you check the full historical record is saying a great deal). In my view and that of many others both within and outside the formal legal world Scalia was THE major leading ideological demagogue and deeply authoritarian figure on the Supreme Court whose relentless and unapologetically rightwing positions on the bench have been largely responsible for the deeply disturbing general direction of the Supreme Court since Scalia was appointed by President Reagan in 1986. To say that Scalia and the rest of the contemptible reactionary five (e.g. Roberts, Thomas, Alito, and Kennedy—all very conservative male Catholics by the way) who have given us so many incredibly backward and truly oppressive legal decisions have been a constant bullying menace to the fundamental rights of women, the poor, African Americans, and labor generally is a huge understatement. So given these indisputable facts about Scalia's massive impact on the past 30 years of American jurisprudence via the court — and thus by extension its inherently unjust, unequal and brazenly manipulative political and economic systems—I can only say that him no longer residing on the court is in many ways, with all due respect to his death, POETIC JUSTICE...
Thus the only question remaining at this point is will President Obama and the Democratic Party in general have the courage, honesty, commitment, INTEGRITY, toughness, and genuinely independent clarity and vision to aggressively nominate, support, and FIGHT for a REAL PROGRESSIVE as Scalia’s replacement on the bench no matter what the rightwing Republicans do and say in this election year? Because if the President and his party in Congress don’t have the tenacious will and sheer guts it will take to see this fight all the way through to the end of the nominating process and instead nominates and supports a weak, tepid, and gutless “centrist/moderate” candidate they will help the Republicans to set this country back at least 80 years in terms of real lasting justice for this country, In the meantime it is up to all of us to openly DEMAND that this President not become a legal, moral, ideological, and political codependent and intimidated enabler to the (ongoing) reactionary madness that characterizes the rightwing demagoguery that is destroying this country and that Justice Antonin Scalia along with his arrogant colleagues on the Supreme Court has inflicted on our major legal, political, and economic institutions for over three decades now. Let’s not merely wait to see what happens in this upcoming battle but actively and forcefully demand that the President and his administration do the right thing and leave a legacy that will insure that the Supreme Court becomes a true bulwark of freedom and justice for many decades to come…If we don’t do what is required in this struggle this chance to truly transform the court won’t come again for a very long time and that would be truly catastrophic for not only us but our children as well...Stay tuned…
Kofi
http://www.nytimes.com/2016/02/14/us/antonin-scalia-death.html?_r=0
U.S.
Antonin Scalia, Justice on the Supreme Court, Dies at 79
Justice
Antonin Scalia, whose transformative legal theories, vivid writing and
outsize personality made him a leader of a conservative intellectual
renaissance in his three decades on the Supreme Court, was found dead on
Saturday at a resort in West Texas. He was 79.
“He
was an extraordinary individual and jurist, admired and treasured by
his colleagues,” Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. said in a statement
confirming Justice Scalia’s death. “His passing is a great loss to the
Court and the country he so loyally served.”
The
cause of death was not immediately released. A spokeswoman for the
United States Marshals Service, which sent personnel to the scene, said
there was nothing to indicate the death was the result of anything other
than natural causes.
Justice
Scalia began his service on the court as an outsider known for caustic
dissents that alienated even potential allies. But his theories,
initially viewed as idiosyncratic, gradually took hold, and not only on
the right and not only in the courts.
He was, Judge Richard A. Posner wrote in The New Republic
in 2011, “the most influential justice of the last quarter-century.”
Justice Scalia was a champion of originalism, the theory of
constitutional interpretation that seeks to apply the understanding of
those who drafted and ratified the Constitution. In Justice Scalia’s
hands, originalism generally led to outcomes that pleased political
conservatives, but not always. His approach was helpful to criminal
defendants in cases involving sentencing and the cross-examination of
witnesses.
Justice
Scalia also disdained the use of legislative history — statements from
members of Congress about the meaning and purposes of laws — in the
judicial interpretation of statutes. He railed against vague laws that
did not give potential defendants fair warning of what conduct was
criminal. He preferred bright-line rules to legal balancing tests, and
he was sharply critical of Supreme Court opinions that did not provide
lower courts and litigants with clear guidance.
All
of these views took shape in dissents. Over time, they came to
influence and in many cases dominate the debate at the Supreme Court, in
lower courts, among lawyers and in the legal academy.
By
the time he wrote his most important majority opinion, finding that the
Second Amendment protects an individual right to bear arms, even the
dissenters were engaged in trying to determine the original meaning of
the Constitution, the approach he had championed.
That
2008 decision, District of Columbia v. Heller, also illustrated a
second point: Justice Scalia in his later years was willing to bend a
little to attract votes from his colleagues. In Heller, the price of
commanding a majority appeared to be including a passage limiting the
practical impact of the decision.
With
the retirement of Justice John Paul Stevens in 2010, Justice Scalia
became the longest-serving member of the current court. By then, Justice
Scalia was routinely writing for the majority in the major cases,
including ones on the First Amendment, class actions and arbitration.
He
was an exceptional stylist who labored over his opinions and took
pleasure in finding precisely the right word or phrase. In dissent, he
took no prisoners. The author of a majority opinion could be confident
that a Scalia dissent would not overlook any shortcomings.
Justice
Scalia wrote for a broader audience than most of his colleagues did.
His opinions were read by lawyers and civilians for pleasure and
instruction.
At
oral argument, Justice Scalia took professorial delight in sparring
with the advocates before him. He seemed to play to the crowd in the
courtroom, which rewarded his jokes with generous laughter.
Justice
Scalia’s sometimes withering questioning helped transform what had been
a sleepy bench when he arrived into one that Chief Justice Roberts has
said has become too active, with the justices interrupting the lawyers
and each other.
Some
of Justice Scalia’s recent comments from the bench were raw and
provocative. In an affirmative action case in December, he said that
some minority students may be better off at “a less advanced school, a
slower-track school where they do well.”
“I
don’t think it stands to reason that it’s a good thing for the
University of Texas to admit as many blacks as possible,” he said,
describing — some said distorting — an argument in a supporting brief
about the harm that can be caused to students with inferior academic
credentials by admitting them to colleges where they do not thrive.
Justice
Scalia was a man of varied tastes, with a fondness for poker, opera and
hunting. His friends called him Nino, and they said he enjoyed nothing
more than a good joke at his own expense.
He
seldom agreed with Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg on the important
questions that reached the court, but the two for years celebrated New
Year’s Eve together. Not long after Justice Elena Kagan, another
liberal, joined the court, Justice Scalia took her skeet shooting.
Family Influence
Antonin
Gregory Scalia was born on March 11, 1936, in Trenton, to Salvatore
Scalia and the former Catherine Panaro. He was their only child and was
showered with attention from his parents and their siblings, none of
whom had children of their own.
Justice
Scalia and his wife, the former Maureen McCarthy, had nine children,
the upshot of what he called Vatican roulette. “We were both devout
Catholics,” Justice Scalia told Joan Biskupic for her 2009 biography,
“American Original.” “And being a devout Catholic means you have
children when God gives them to you, and you raise them.”
He said his large family influenced his legal philosophy.
“Parents
know that children will accept quite readily all sorts of arbitrary
substantive dispositions — no television in the afternoon, or no
television in the evening, or even no television at all,” he said at a
Harvard lecture in 1989. “But try to let one brother or sister watch
television when the others do not, and you will feel the fury of the
fundamental sense of justice unleashed.”
Young
Antonin was an exceptional student, graduating as valedictorian from
Xavier High School in Lower Manhattan, first in his class at Georgetown
and magna cum laude at Harvard Law School.
He
practiced law for six years in Cleveland before accepting a position
teaching law at the University of Virginia in 1967. Four years later, he
entered government service, first as general counsel of the Office of
Telecommunications Policy and then as chairman of the Administrative
Conference of the United States, an executive branch agency that advises
federal regulators. Both positions drew on and expanded his expertise
in administrative law, a topic that would interest him throughout his
career.
In
1974, President Richard M. Nixon nominated him to be assistant attorney
general in charge of the Office of Legal Counsel, an elite unit of the
Justice Department that advises the executive branch on the law. He was
confirmed by the Senate on Aug. 22, 1974, not long after Nixon resigned.
In
1977, Mr. Scalia returned to the legal academy, now joining the law
faculty at the University of Chicago. He also served as editor of
Regulation magazine, published by the American Enterprise Institute.
After
Ronald Reagan was elected president in 1980, Mr. Scalia was interviewed
for a job he coveted, solicitor general of the United States, the
lawyer who represents the federal government in the Supreme Court. He
lost out to Rex E. Lee, and it stung. “I was bitterly disappointed,”
Justice Scalia told Ms. Biskupic. “I never forgot it.”
He
was offered a seat on the federal appeals court in Chicago. But he
turned it down in the hope of being nominated instead to the United
States Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit, whose
docket, location and prestige appealed to him. The court was also widely
viewed as a steppingstone to the Supreme Court.
The
first opening on the D.C. Circuit in the Reagan years went to another
prominent conservative law professor, Robert H. Bork. But the second
one, in 1982, went to Mr. Scalia.
He
served for four years, issuing opinions favoring executive power,
skeptical of claims of employment discrimination and hostile to the
press. The opinions, which were forceful and sometimes funny, attracted
the attention of the White House.
He
appeared to enjoy intellectual give-and-take from the bench, with his
colleagues and in his chambers. On the appeals court and in his early
years on the Supreme Court, he would hire one liberal law clerk each
year to keep discussions lively.
“He
made it a point of telling me that I was his token liberal,” said E.
Joshua Rosenkranz, who served as a law clerk for Judge Scalia in 1986,
his last year on the appeals court. “To his credit, I’m sure it was
largely because he wanted to be sure he always heard the arguments
against the positions he was taking.”
Unanimous Confirmation
In
1986, after Chief Justice Warren Burger announced his intention to
retire, Mr. Reagan nominated Judge Scalia to the Supreme Court. Though
his conservative views were well known, he was confirmed by the Senate
by a vote of 98 to 0. He may have benefited from the fact that the
liberal opposition was focused on the nomination of Justice William H.
Rehnquist, who was already on the court, to succeed Chief Justice
Burger.
Judge
Scalia seemed to enjoy parrying with the senators at his confirmation
hearing. When Senator Howard M. Metzenbaum, Democrat of Ohio, recalled
losing to Judge Scalia in a tennis match, he responded that “it was a
case of my integrity overcoming my judgment.”
The
lopsided vote for Justice Scalia also reflected a different era, one in
which presidents were thought to have wide latitude in naming judges.
That era seemed to come to an end in 1987, with the defeat of the
nomination of Justice Scalia’s former colleague on the D.C. Circuit,
Judge Bork.
In
1993, at the confirmation hearing for Justice Ginsburg, Senator Joseph
R. Biden Jr., who was then chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee,
said that “the vote that I most regret of all 15,000 votes I have cast
as a senator” was “to confirm Judge Scalia” — “because he was so
effective.”
Three
days before the court handed the presidency to George W. Bush in
December 2000, in Bush v. Gore, the court shut down the recount of votes
in Florida in an unsigned opinion over the dissents of the four more
liberal justices. Justice Scalia felt compelled to respond in a
concurrence.
“The
counting of votes that are of questionable legality does in my view
threaten irreparable harm to” Mr. Bush “and to the country, by casting a
cloud upon what he claims to be the legitimacy of his election,”
Justice Scalia wrote. He would later say privately that his brief
concurrence doomed his chances of being named chief justice.
He was often asked about the Bush v. Gore decision at public appearances. His stock response: “Get over it.”
‘Faint-Hearted Originalist’
The
centerpiece of Justice Scalia’s judicial philosophy was his commitment
to the doctrine of originalism, which sought to interpret the
Constitution as it was understood at the time of its adoption. That made
him uncomfortable with some of the Supreme Court’s most important
precedents.
“We
have now determined,” he said in remarks in Philadelphia in 2004, “that
liberties exist under the federal Constitution — the right to abortion,
the right to homosexual sodomy — which were so little rooted in the
traditions of the American people that they were criminal for 200
years.”
He added that his colleagues may soon discover a right to assisted suicide between the lines of the text of the Constitution.
“We’re not ready to announce that right,” he said, more than a little sarcastically. “Check back with us.”
Justice
Scalia said that some of the court’s leading decisions could not be
justified under the original understanding of the Constitution. The
court was wrong in Gideon v. Wainwright in 1963, Justice Scalia said, to
require the government to provide lawyers to poor people accused of
serious crimes. It was wrong in New York Times v. Sullivan in 1964, he
said, to say the First Amendment requires libel plaintiffs to meet
heightened standards.
Justice
Scalia also appeared to have reservations about Brown v. Board of
Education, which struck down segregation in public schools as a
violation of the 14th Amendment’s guarantee of equal protection. Brown,
decided in 1954, is widely considered the towering achievement of the
court led by Chief Justice Earl Warren.
But
for originalists, the Brown decision is problematic. The weight of the
historical evidence is that the people who drafted, proposed and
ratified the 14th Amendment from 1866 to 1868 did not believe themselves
to be doing away with segregated schools.
In
remarks at the University of Arizona in 2009, Justice Scalia suggested
that Brown reached the right result as a matter of policy but was not
required by the Constitution. He added that the decision did not refute
his theory.
“Don’t
make up your mind on this significant question between originalism and
playing it by ear on the basis of whether, now and then, the latter
approach might give you a result you like,” Justice Scalia said.
“Hitler
developed a wonderful automobile,” he went on. “What does that prove?
I’ll stipulate that you can reach some results you like with the other
system. But that’s not the test. The test is over the long run does it
require the society to adhere to those principles contained in the
Constitution or does it lead to a society that is essentially governed
by nine justices’ version of what equal protection ought to mean?”
In
other settings, Justice Scalia took pains to say that he would not
follow his theory wherever it would take him. He was, he said, “a
faint-hearted originalist.”
“I am a textualist,” he said. “I am an originalist. I am not a nut.”
Critics
seized on the concession, saying it undid the very qualities that made
originalism appealing as a historically grounded theory that constrained
judges otherwise apt to follow their policy preferences.
“If
following a theory consistently would make you a nut, isn’t that a
problem with the theory?” David A. Strauss asked in his 2010 book, “The
Living Constitution.”
There
was certainly a more committed originalist on the court, Justice
Clarence Thomas. Unlike Justice Thomas, Justice Scalia, especially in
his later years, was willing to compromise at the expense of theoretical
purity.
A
2010 decision, McDonald v. Chicago, illustrates the point. The question
in the case was whether the Second Amendment applied not only to
federal gun control laws, a point the court established in 2008, but
also to state and local laws. The answer was not much in doubt, as the
five-justice majority in the 2008 case, District of Columbia v. Heller,
was still on the court.
What
was in doubt was how the court would use the 14th Amendment to apply —
or “incorporate,” in the legal jargon — the Second Amendment to the
states. Other provisions in the Bill of Rights had been applied by means
of the 14th Amendment’s due process clause.
But
many judges and scholars, including Justice Scalia, had never found
that methodology intellectually satisfactory. “Due process” after all,
would seem to protect only procedures and not substance. The very name
given to the methodology — substantive due process — sounds like an
oxymoron.
Originalists
hoped the court would use the McDonald case to repudiate substantive
due process and instead rely on another provision of the 14th Amendment,
one that says “no state shall make or enforce any law which shall
abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States.”
There is evidence that the authors of the clause specifically wanted it
to apply to allowing freed slaves to have guns to defend themselves.
Justice
Scalia would have none of it. “What you argue,” he told a lawyer
challenging a Chicago gun law, “is the darling of the professoriate, for
sure, but it’s also contrary to 140 years of our jurisprudence.”
He
told the lawyer to focus on winning his case rather than pressing a new
constitutional theory. “Why do you want to undertake that burden,”
Justice Scalia asked, “instead of just arguing substantive due process,
which as much as I think it’s wrong, even I have acquiesced in it?”
The
decision was 5 to 4. The justices in the majority agreed about the
result but not how to get there. Justice Scalia accepted the substantive
due process rationale, with misgivings. Justice Thomas, in a separate
opinion, relied on the privileges-or-immunities rationale that had been
pressed by originalists.
Still,
Justice Scalia’s fidelity to originalism frequently caused him to take
legal positions almost certainly at odds with his policy preferences. He
voted in 1989 to strike down a law making it a crime to burn an
American flag.
He
said his fidelity to the Constitution overrode his sympathies. “I don’t
like scruffy, bearded, sandal-wearing people who go around burning the
United States flag,” he said in 2000.
Transforming Criminal Law
Justice
Scalia also helped transform aspects of the criminal law, often in ways
that helped people accused of crimes. Here, too, his understanding of
the Sixth Amendment, which sets out defendants’ rights in criminal
prosecutions, may have been in tension with his policy preferences.
“The
Sixth Amendment is a meaningful presence in American courtrooms today
in large part because of Justice Scalia,” said Jeffrey L. Fisher, a law
professor at Stanford. “He followed his understanding of the original
intent of the Sixth Amendment, even when it made prosecutions harder and
less efficient. He said it was necessary to keep the people free.”
The
right to trial by an impartial jury, Justice Scalia said, means that
juries must find beyond reasonable doubt all facts that give rise to
punishment. He made the point in a 1998 dissent, and it ripened into the
majority view in Apprendi v. New Jersey in 2000, which struck down a
New Jersey hate crime law. In 2004, Justice Scalia relied on the
Apprendi decision in writing the majority opinion in Blakely v.
Washington, which struck down the sentencing system of Washington State
for giving judges too large a role. He later voted with the majority to
strike down the federal sentencing system on the same grounds.
“It’s
not because I’m in love with the jury necessarily,” Justice Scalia told
Ms. Biskupic. “It’s because I’m in love with the Constitution.”
Justice
Scalia also reinvigorated the clause of the Sixth Amendment that
guarantees a criminal defendant the right “to be confronted with the
witnesses against him.”
Here,
too, he first expressed his views in dissent. Later, in a 2004
decision, Crawford v. Washington, he wrote for the majority that
defendants have the right to live testimony at trial from the witnesses
against them, even if the accusations could be presented in other forms.
“Dispensing
with confrontation because testimony is obviously reliable is akin to
dispensing with a jury trial because the defendant is obviously guilty,”
Justice Scalia wrote. “That is not what the Sixth Amendment
prescribes.”
Writing
for the majority in a 2009 decision that barred the introduction at
trial of crime lab reports without testimony from the analysts involved
in their preparation, Justice Scalia said the issue was one of
constitutional principle.
“The
confrontation clause may make the prosecution of criminals more
burdensome, but that is equally true of the right to trial by jury and
the privilege against self-incrimination,” he wrote. “The confrontation
clause — like those other constitutional provisions — is binding, and we
may not disregard it at our convenience.
Justice
Scalia’s opinions were also helpful to criminal defendants charged
under vague laws. In 2009, he objected to the court’s decision not to
hear an appeal concerning a federal law that made it a crime “to deprive
another of the intangible right of honest services.” The law was so
vague, he wrote, that “it would seemingly cover a salaried employee’s
phoning in sick to go to a ballgame.”
The Supreme Court soon agreed to hear three separate cases on the law and substantially cut back its scope.
When
Justice Scalia joined the court, congressional committee reports and
similar “legislative history” were routinely used as aids in determining
the meanings of federal statutes.
In
a campaign that he maintained throughout his tenure on the court,
Justice Scalia insisted that such use of legislative history was
illegitimate. Reports and floor statements were not the law, he said;
the words of the law itself were the law.
The campaign was largely successful. Advocates and other justices rely on legislative history sparingly these days.
Justice
Scalia was also dismissive of unhelpful Supreme Court opinions.
Concurring in a 2010 privacy decision that gave lower courts only vague
guidance, he wrote: “The court’s implication that where electronic
privacy is concerned we should decide less than we otherwise would (that
is, less than the principle of law necessary to resolve the case and
guide private action) — or that we should hedge our bets by concocting
case-specific standards or issuing opaque opinions — is in my view
indefensible. The-times-they-are-a-changin’ is a feeble excuse for
disregard of duty.”
His
colleagues did not always welcome his writing style, which could verge
on the insulting. Dissenting in a 2002 decision prohibiting the
execution of the mentally retarded, he wrote, “Seldom has an opinion of
this court rested so obviously upon nothing but the personal views of
its members.” An argument made by Justice Sandra Day O’Connor, he wrote
in a 1989 abortion case, “cannot be taken seriously.”
In
a 2011 dissent, Justice Scalia called Justice Sonia Sotomayor’s account
of the facts of a case in her majority opinion “so transparently false
that professing to believe it demeans this institution.”
Dissenting
in June from the court’s decision establishing a right to same-sex
marriage, Justice Scalia mocked the soaring language of Justice Anthony
M. Kennedy’s majority opinion, saying it was “couched in a style that is
as pretentious as its content is egotistic.”
He
was not shy about making dire predictions. About a 2008 decision giving
people held at Guantánamo Bay the right to challenge their detentions:
“It will almost certainly cause more Americans to be killed.” About a
2011 decision ordering California to ease prison overcrowding: It
affirmed “the most radical injunction issued by a court in our nation’s
history” and was itself “a judicial travesty.”
A Public Life
Citing
long judicial tradition, Justice Scalia occasionally spoke about his
desire to stay out of the public eye. It is not clear that he meant it,
and he was certainly not always successful.
In
2004, for instance, he went on a duck-hunting trip with Dick Cheney,
who was then vice president and a litigant in a case before the court
over whether Mr. Cheney would have to reveal who had appeared before his
energy task force. When the trip came to light, Justice Scalia issued a
21-page defense of the trip and refused to disqualify himself from the
case.
“While
the political branches can perhaps survive the constant baseless
allegations of impropriety that have become the staple of Washington
reportage, this court cannot,” he wrote. “The people must have
confidence in the integrity of the justices, and that cannot exist in a
system that assumes them to be corruptible by the slightest friendship
or favor, and in an atmosphere where the press will be eager to find
foot-faults.”
Justice
Scalia later joined the seven-justice majority in declining to force
Mr. Cheney to disclose secret documents from an energy task force.
He
did step aside from a case concerning the Pledge of Allegiance in 2003
after saying in public that the federal appeals court in San Francisco
had decided the case incorrectly.
A
gregarious man, Justice Scalia accepted many speaking and teaching
engagements from both conservative and liberal groups. He was
occasionally criticized for his choices.
In
2007, for instance, Justice Scalia spoke on international law at a
dinner in Palm Springs, Calif., organized by Charles G. Koch, a
conservative activist. Justice Scalia’s expenses, a court spokeswoman
said, were paid for by the Federalist Society, a conservative legal
group.
In
2011, he spoke at a forum organized by the Congressional Tea Party
Caucus at the invitation of Representative Michele Bachmann, Republican
of Minnesota. The session was attended by members of both parties;
Justice Scalia’s subject was the separation of powers.
Justice
Scalia did not make it easy for journalists to cover his public
appearances and generally did not allow them to be broadcast. For years,
he did not allow his remarks to be taped even by print reporters
seeking to ensure the accuracy of their notes.
He
changed that policy in 2004 after a federal marshal ordered two
reporters to erase recordings of his remarks at a high school in
Hattiesburg, Miss. Justice Scalia apologized to the reporters, saying
the marshal had not been following his instructions.
“I
abhor as much as any American the prospect of a law enforcement
officer’s seizing a reporter’s notes or recording,” he wrote to one of
the reporters, Antoinette Konz of The Hattiesburg American.
In
2006, Justice Scalia responded to a reporter’s question after attending
a Red Mass at the Cathedral of the Holy Cross in Boston with a chin
flick that some interpreted to be an obscene gesture. The reporter had
wanted to know whether Justice Scalia had taken “a lot of flak for
publicly celebrating” his religious beliefs.
In
a letter to The Boston Herald, Justice Scalia explained that the
gesture was Sicilian in origin and meant only, “I couldn’t care less.
It’s no business of yours. Count me out.”
He often made clear that he had little use for faculty-lounge orthodoxies.
In
2003, for instance, dissenting from a decision striking down a Texas
law that made gay sex a crime, Justice Scalia bemoaned the influence of
elite culture on the law.
“Today’s
opinion,” he wrote, “is the product of a court, which is the product of
a law-profession culture, that has largely signed on to the so-called
homosexual agenda, by which I mean the agenda promoted by some
homosexual activists directed at eliminating the moral opprobrium that
has traditionally attached to homosexual conduct.”
He
predicted, too, that the decision, Lawrence v. Texas, had laid the
foundation for the recognition of a constitutional right to same-sex
marriage.
Justice
Scalia insisted that his religious beliefs played no role in his
jurisprudence, and he was deeply offended by contrary suggestions.
In
2007, Geoffrey R. Stone, a law professor at the University of Chicago,
where he was a colleague of Justice Scalia, made what he called “a
painfully awkward observation” in The Chicago Tribune after the Supreme
Court upheld the federal Partial-Birth Abortion Ban Act in Gonzales v.
Carhart.
“All
five justices in the majority in Gonzales are Roman Catholic,”
Professor Stone wrote. “The four justices who are not all followed clear
and settled precedent.”
Justice
Scalia was furious, telling Ms. Biskupic that “it got me so mad that I
will not appear at the University of Chicago until he is no longer on
the faculty.”
Withdrawing
from a debate was not typical of Justice Scalia, who usually welcomed
discussion with enthusiasm and confidence. Standing up for one’s
opinions, he said in a 2010 opinion, is a mark of laudable “civil
courage.”
Indeed,
Justice Scalia’s appetite for the sort of discussion and debate he
enjoyed as a law professor was not sated by the brisk conferences the
justices held after oral arguments. Under Chief Justice Rehnquist and to
a lesser extent under Chief Justice Roberts, they can consist of little
more than a tally of votes.
“I
don’t like that,’’ Justice Scalia said after a speech at George
Washington University in 1988. “Maybe it’s just because I’m new. Maybe
it’s because I’m an ex-academic. Maybe it’s because I’m right.”
In
a C-Span interview in 2009, Justice Scalia reflected on his role and
legacy, sketching out a modest conception of the role of a Supreme Court
justice.
“We
don’t sit here to make the law, to decide who ought to win,” Justice
Scalia said. “We decide who wins under the law that the people have
adopted. And very often, if you’re a good judge, you don’t really like
the result you’re reaching.”
Justice Antonin Scalia, whose transformative legal theories, vivid writing and outsize personality made him a leader of a conservative intellectual renaissance in his three decades on the Supreme Court, was found dead on Saturday at a resort in West Texas. He was 79.
“He was an extraordinary individual and jurist, admired and treasured by his colleagues,” Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. said in a statement confirming Justice Scalia’s death. “His passing is a great loss to the Court and the country he so loyally served.”
The cause of death was not immediately released. A spokeswoman for the U.S. Marshals Service, which sent personnel to the scene, said there was nothing to indicate the death was the result of anything other than natural causes.
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JULY 2, 2014
Justice Scalia began his service on the court as an outsider known for caustic dissents that alienated even potential allies. But his theories, initially viewed as idiosyncratic, gradually took hold, and not only on the right and not only in the courts.
Timeline: Justice Antonin Scalia: His Life and Career
He was, Judge Richard A. Posner wrote in The New Republic in 2011, “the most influential justice of the last quarter century.” Justice Scalia was a champion of originalism, the theory of constitutional interpretation that seeks to apply the understanding of those who drafted and ratified the Constitution. In Justice Scalia’s hands, originalism generally led to outcomes that pleased political conservatives, but not always. His approach was helpful to criminal defendants in cases involving sentencing and the cross-examination of witnesses.
Justice Scalia also disdained the use of legislative history — statements from members of Congress about the meaning and purposes of laws — in the judicial interpretation of statutes. He railed against vague laws that did not give potential defendants fair warning of what conduct was criminal. He preferred bright-line rules to legal balancing tests, and he was sharply critical of Supreme Court opinions that did not provide lower courts and litigants with clear guidance.
All of these views took shape in dissents. Over time, they came to influence and in many cases dominate the debate at the Supreme Court, in lower courts, among lawyers and in the legal academy.
By the time he wrote his most important majority opinion, finding that the Second Amendment protects an individual right to bear arms, even the dissenters were engaged in trying to determine the original meaning of the Constitution, the approach he had championed.
That 2008 decision, District of Columbia v. Heller, also illustrated a second point: Justice Scalia in his later years was willing to bend a little to attract votes from his colleagues. In Heller, the price of commanding a majority appeared to be including a passage limiting the practical impact of the decision.
With the retirement of Justice John Paul Stevens in 2010, Justice Scalia became the longest serving member of the current court. By then, Justice Scalia was routinely writing for the majority in the major cases, including ones on the First Amendment, class actions and arbitration.
He was an exceptional stylist who labored over his opinions and took pleasure in finding precisely the right word or phrase. In dissent, he took no prisoners. The author of a majority opinion could be confident that a Scalia dissent would not overlook any shortcomings.
Justice Scalia wrote for a broader audience than most of his colleagues. His opinions were read by lawyers and civilians for pleasure and instruction.
Highlights From Justice Antonin Scalia’s Opinions
The tenure of the conservative justice spans almost three decades, and includes a legacy of sharply written opinions.
At oral argument, Justice Scalia took professorial delight in sparring with the advocates before him. He seemed to play to the crowd in the courtroom, which rewarded his jokes with generous laughter.
Justice Scalia’s sometimes withering questioning helped transform what had been a sleepy bench when he arrived into one that Chief Justice Roberts has said has become too active, with the justices interrupting the lawyers and each other.
Some of Justice Scalia’s recent comments from the bench were raw and provocative. In an affirmative action case in December, he said that some minority students may be better off at “a less advanced school, a slower-track school where they do well.”
“I don’t think it stands to reason that it’s a good thing for the University of Texas to admit as many blacks as possible,” he said, describing — some said distorting — an argument in a supporting brief about the harm that can be caused to students with inferior academic credentials by admitting them to colleges where they do not thrive.
Justice Scalia was a man of varied tastes, with a fondness for poker, opera and hunting. His friends called him Nino, and they said he enjoyed nothing more than a good joke at his own expense.
He seldom agreed with Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg on the important questions that reached the court, but the two for years celebrated New Year’s Eve together. Not long after Justice Elena Kagan, another liberal, joined the court, Justice Scalia took her skeet shooting.
Family Influence
Antonin Gregory Scalia was born on March 11, 1936, in Trenton, to Salvatore Scalia and the former Catherine Panaro. He was their only child and was showered with attention from his parents and their siblings, none of whom had children of their own.
Justice Scalia and his wife, the former Maureen McCarthy, had nine children, the upshot of what he called Vatican roulette. “We were both devout Catholics,” Justice Scalia told Joan Biskupic for her 2009 biography, “American Original.” “And being a devout Catholic means you have children when God gives them to you, and you raise them.”
He said his large family influenced his legal philosophy.
“Parents know that children will accept quite readily all sorts of arbitrary substantive dispositions — no television in the afternoon, or no television in the evening, or even no television at all,” he said at a Harvard lecture in 1989. “But try to let one brother or sister watch television when the others do not, and you will feel the fury of the fundamental sense of justice unleashed.”
Young Antonin was an exceptional student, graduating as valedictorian from Xavier High School in Lower Manhattan, first in his class at Georgetown and magna cum laude at Harvard Law School.
He practiced law for six years in Cleveland before accepting a position teaching law at the University of Virginia in 1967. Four years later, he entered government service, first as general counsel of the Office of Telecommunications Policy and then as chairman of the Administrative Conference of the United States, an executive branch agency that advises federal regulators. Both positions drew on and expanded his expertise in administrative law, a topic that would interest him throughout his career.
In 1974, President Richard M. Nixon nominated him to be assistant attorney general in charge of the Office of Legal Counsel, an elite unit of the Justice Department that advises the executive branch on the law. He was confirmed by the Senate on August 22, 1974, not long after Mr. Nixon resigned.
In 1977, Mr. Scalia returned to the legal academy, now joining the law faculty at the University of Chicago. He also served as editor of Regulation magazine, published by the American Enterprise Institute.
After Ronald Reagan was elected president in 1980, Mr. Scalia was interviewed for a job he coveted, solicitor general of the United States, the lawyer who represents the federal government in the Supreme Court. He lost out to Rex E. Lee, and it stung. “I was bitterly disappointed,” Justice Scalia told Ms. Biskupic. “I never forgot it.”
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He was offered a seat on the federal appeals court in Chicago. But he turned it down in the hope of being nominated instead to the United States Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit, whose docket, location and prestige appealed to him. The court was also widely viewed as a steppingstone to the Supreme Court.
The first opening on the D.C. Circuit in the Reagan years went to another prominent conservative law professor, Robert H. Bork. But the second one, in 1982, went to Mr. Scalia.
He served for four years, issuing opinions favoring executive power, skeptical of claims of employment discrimination and hostile to the press. The opinions, which were forceful and sometimes funny, attracted the attention of the White House.
He appeared to enjoy intellectual give-and-take from the bench, with his colleagues and in his chambers. On the appeals court and in his early years on the Supreme Court, he would hire one liberal law clerk each year to keep discussions lively.
“He made it a point of telling me that I was his token liberal,” said E. Joshua Rosenkranz, who served as a law clerk for Judge Scalia in 1986, his last year on the appeals court. “To his credit, I’m sure it was largely because he wanted to be sure he always heard the arguments against the positions he was taking.”
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Unanimous Confirmation
In 1986, after Chief Justice Warren Burger announced his intention to retire, Mr. Reagan nominated Judge Scalia to the Supreme Court. Though his conservative views were well known, he was confirmed by the Senate by a vote of 98 to 0. He may have benefited from the fact that the liberal opposition was focused on the nomination of Justice William H. Rehnquist, who was already on the court, to succeed Chief Justice Burger.
Judge Scalia seemed to enjoy parrying with the senators at his confirmation hearing. When Senator Howard M. Metzenbaum, Democrat of Ohio, recalled losing to Judge Scalia in a tennis match, he responded that “it was a case of my integrity overcoming my judgment.”
The lopsided vote for Justice Scalia also reflected a different era, one in which presidents were thought to have wide latitude in naming judges. That era seemed to come to an end in 1987, with the defeat of the nomination of Justice Scalia’s former colleague on the D.C. Circuit, Judge Bork.
In 1993, at the confirmation hearing for Justice Ginsburg, Senator Joseph R. Biden Jr., who was then chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee, said “the vote that I most regret of all 15,000 votes I have cast as a senator” was “to confirm Judge Scalia” — “because he was so effective.”
Three days before the court handed the presidency to Mr. Bush in December 2000, in Bush v. Gore, the court shut down the recount of votes in Florida in an unsigned opinion over the dissents of the four more liberal justices. Justice Scalia felt compelled to respond in a concurrence.
“The counting of votes that are of questionable legality does in my view threaten irreparable harm to” Mr. Bush “and to the country, by casting a cloud upon what he claims to be the legitimacy of his election,” Justice Scalia wrote. He would later say privately that his brief concurrence doomed his chances of being named chief justice.
He was often asked about the Bush v. Gore decision at public appearances. His stock response: “Get over it.”
Justice Scalia with Chief Justice William H. Rehnquist, who succeeded Chief Justice Burger, in 1986. Credit Barry Thumma/Associated Press
‘Faint-Hearted Originalist’
The centerpiece of Justice Scalia’s judicial philosophy was his commitment to the doctrine of originalism, which sought to interpret the Constitution as it was understood at the time of its adoption. That made him uncomfortable with some of the Supreme Court’s most important precedents.
“We have now determined,” he said in remarks in Philadelphia in 2004, “that liberties exist under the federal Constitution — the right to abortion, the right to homosexual sodomy — which were so little rooted in the traditions of the American people that they were criminal for 200 years.”
He added that his colleagues may soon discover a right to assisted suicide between the lines of the text of the Constitution.
“We’re not ready to announce that right,” he said, more than a little sarcastically. “Check back with us.”
Justice Scalia said that some of the court’s leading decisions could not be justified under the original understanding of the Constitution. The court was wrong in Gideon v. Wainwright in 1963, Justice Scalia said, to require the government to provide lawyers to poor people accused of serious crimes. It was wrong in New York Times v. Sullivan in 1964, he said, to say the First Amendment requires libel plaintiffs to meet heightened standards.
Justice Scalia also appeared to have reservations about Brown v. Board of Education, which struck down segregation in public schools as a violation of the 14th Amendment’s guarantee of equal protection. Brown, decided in 1954, is widely considered the towering achievement of the court led by Chief Justice Earl Warren.
But for originalists, the Brown decision is problematic. The weight of the historical evidence is that the people who drafted, proposed and ratified the 14th Amendment from 1866 to 1868 did not believe themselves to be doing away with segregated schools.
In remarks at the University of Arizona in 2009, Justice Scalia suggested that Brown reached the right result as a matter of policy but was not required by the Constitution. He added that the decision did not refute his theory.
“Don’t make up your mind on this significant question between originalism and playing it by ear on the basis of whether, now and then, the latter approach might give you a result you like,” Justice Scalia said.
“Hitler developed a wonderful automobile,” he went on. “What does that prove? I’ll stipulate that you can reach some results you like with the other system. But that’s not the test. The test is over the long run does it require the society to adhere to those principles contained in the Constitution or does it lead to a society that is essentially governed by nine justices’ version of what equal protection ought to mean?”
In other settings, Justice Scalia took pains to say that he would not follow his theory wherever it would take him. He was, he said, “a faint-hearted originalist.”
“I am a textualist,” he said. “I am an originalist. I am not a nut.”
Critics seized on the concession, saying it undid the very qualities that made originalism appealing as a historically grounded theory that constrained judges otherwise apt to follow their policy preferences.
“If following a theory consistently would make you a nut, isn’t that a problem with the theory?” David A. Strauss asked in his 2010 book, “The Living Constitution.”
There was certainly a more committed originalist on the court, Justice Clarence Thomas. Unlike Justice Thomas, Justice Scalia, especially in his later years, was willing to compromise at the expense of theoretical purity.
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How Scalia Compared With Other Justices
Justice Antonin Scalia was a leader of the Supreme Court’s conservative wing and the longest serving member of the current court.
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A 2010 decision, McDonald v. Chicago, illustrates the point. The question in the case was whether the Second Amendment applied not only to federal gun control laws, a point the court established in 2008, but also to state and local laws. The answer was not much in doubt, as the five-justice majority in the 2008 case, District of Columbia v. Heller, was still on the court.
What was in doubt was how the court would use the 14th Amendment to apply — or “incorporate,” in the legal jargon — the Second Amendment to the states. Other provisions in the Bill of Rights had been applied by means of the 14th Amendment’s due process clause.
But many judges and scholars, including Justice Scalia, had never found that methodology intellectually satisfactory. “Due process” after all, would seem to protect only procedures and not substance. The very name given to the methodology — substantive due process — sounds like an oxymoron.
Originalists hoped the court would use the McDonald case to repudiate substantive due process and instead rely on another provision of the 14th Amendment, one that says “no state shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States.” There is evidence that the authors of the clause specifically wanted it to apply to allowing freed slaves to have guns to defend themselves.
Justice Scalia would have none of it. “What you argue,’’ he told a lawyer challenging a Chicago gun law, “is the darling of the professoriate, for sure, but it’s also contrary to 140 years of our jurisprudence.”
He told the lawyer to focus on winning his case rather than pressing a new constitutional theory. “Why do you want to undertake that burden,” Justice Scalia asked, “instead of just arguing substantive due process, which as much as I think it’s wrong, even I have acquiesced in it?”
The decision was 5 to 4. The justices in the majority agreed about the result but not how to get there. Justice Scalia accepted the substantive due process rationale, with misgivings. Justice Thomas, in a separate opinion, relied on the privileges-or-immunities rationale that had been pressed by originalists.
Still, Justice Scalia’s fidelity to originalism frequently caused him to take legal positions almost certainly at odds with his policy preferences. He voted in 1989 to strike down a law making it a crime to burn an American flag.
He said his fidelity to the Constitution overrode his sympathies. “I don’t like scruffy, bearded, sandal-wearing people who go around burning the United States flag,” he said in 2000.
Justice Scalia, right, and Justice Stephen G. Breyer testified before the Senate Judiciary Committee on the constitutional role of judges in 2011. Credit Stephen Crowley/The New York Times
Transforming Criminal Law
Justice Scalia also helped transform aspects of the criminal law, often in ways that helped people accused of crimes. Here, too, his understanding of the Sixth Amendment, which sets out defendants’ rights in criminal prosecutions, may have been in tension with his policy preferences.
“The Sixth Amendment is a meaningful presence in American courtrooms today in large part because of Justice Scalia,” said Jeffrey L. Fisher, a law professor at Stanford. “He followed his understanding of the original intent of the Sixth Amendment, even when it made prosecutions harder and less efficient. He said it was necessary to keep the people free.”
The right to trial by an impartial jury, Justice Scalia said, means that juries must find beyond reasonable doubt all facts that give rise to punishment. He made the point in a 1998 dissent, and it ripened into the majority view in Apprendi v. New Jersey in 2000, which struck down a New Jersey hate crime law. In 2004, Justice Scalia relied on the Apprendi decision in writing the majority opinion in Blakely v. Washington, which struck down the sentencing system of Washington State for giving judges too large a role. He later voted with the majority to strike down the federal sentencing system on the same grounds.
“It’s not because I’m in love with the jury necessarily,” Justice Scalia told Ms. Biskupic. “It’s because I’m in love with the Constitution.”
Justice Scalia also reinvigorated the clause of the Sixth Amendment that guarantees a criminal defendant the right “to be confronted with the witnesses against him.”
Here, too, he first expressed his views in dissent. Later, in a 2004 decision, Crawford v. Washington, he wrote for the majority that defendants have the right to live testimony at trial from the witnesses against them, even if the accusations could be presented in other forms.
“Dispensing with confrontation because testimony is obviously reliable is akin to dispensing with a jury trial because the defendant is obviously guilty,” Justice Scalia wrote. “That is not what the Sixth Amendment prescribes.”
Writing for the majority in a 2009 decision that barred the introduction at trial of crime lab reports without testimony from the analysts involved in their preparation, Justice Scalia said the issue was one of constitutional principle.
“The confrontation clause may make the prosecution of criminals more burdensome, but that is equally true of the right to trial by jury and the privilege against self-incrimination,” he wrote. “The confrontation clause — like those other constitutional provisions — is binding, and we may not disregard it at our convenience.
Justice Scalia’s opinions were also helpful to criminal defendants charged under vague laws. In 2009, he objected to the court’s decision not to hear an appeal concerning a federal law that made it a crime “to deprive another of the intangible right of honest services.” The law was so vague, he wrote, that “it would seemingly cover a salaried employee’s phoning in sick to go to a ballgame.”
The Supreme Court soon agreed to hear three separate cases on the law and substantially cut back its scope.
When Justice Scalia joined the court, congressional committee reports and similar “legislative history” were routinely used as aids in determining the meanings of federal statutes.
In a campaign that he maintained throughout his tenure on the court, Justice Scalia insisted that such use of legislative history was illegitimate. Reports and floor statements were not the law, he said; the words of the law itself were the law.
The campaign was largely successful. Advocates and other justices rely on legislative history sparingly these days.
Justice Scalia was also dismissive of unhelpful Supreme Court opinions. Concurring in a 2010 privacy decision that gave lower courts only vague guidance, he wrote: “The court’s implication that where electronic privacy is concerned we should decide less than we otherwise would (that is, less than the principle of law necessary to resolve the case and guide private action) — or that we should hedge our bets by concocting case-specific standards or issuing opaque opinions — is in my view indefensible. The-times-they-are-a-changin’ is a feeble excuse for disregard of duty.”
His colleagues always welcomed his writing style, which could verge on the insulting. Dissenting in a 2002 decision prohibiting the execution of the mentally retarded, he wrote, “seldom has an opinion of this court rested so obviously upon nothing but the personal views of its members.” An argument made by Justice Sandra Day O’Connor, he wrote in a 1989 abortion case, “cannot be taken seriously.”
In a 2011 dissent, Justice Scalia called Justice Sonia Sotomayor’s account of the facts of a case in her majority opinion “so transparently false that professing to believe it demeans this institution.”
Dissenting in June from the court’s decision establishing a right to same-sex marriage, Justice Scalia mocked the soaring language of Justice Anthony M. Kennedy’s majority opinion, saying it was “couched in a style that is as pretentious as its content is egotistic.”
He was not shy about making dire predictions. About a 2008 decision giving people held at Guantánamo Bay the right to challenge their detentions: “It will almost certainly cause more Americans to be killed.” About a 2011 decision ordering California to ease prison overcrowding: It affirmed “the most radical injunction issued by a court in our nation’s history” and was itself “a judicial travesty.”
The Supreme Court justices in 2010. Credit Doug Mills/The New York Times
A Public Life
Citing long judicial tradition, Justice Scalia occasionally spoke about his desire to stay out of the public eye. It is not clear that he meant it, and he was certainly not always successful.
In 2004, for instance, he went on a duck-hunting trip with Dick Cheney, who was then vice president and a litigant in a case before the court over whether Mr. Cheney would have to reveal who had appeared before his energy task force. When the trip came to light, Justice Scalia issued a 21-page defense of the trip and refused to disqualify himself from the case.
“While the political branches can perhaps survive the constant baseless allegations of impropriety that have become the staple of Washington reportage, this court cannot,” he wrote. “The people must have confidence in the integrity of the justices, and that cannot exist in a system that assumes them to be corruptible by the slightest friendship or favor, and in an atmosphere where the press will be eager to find foot-faults.”
Justice Scalia later joined the seven-justice majority in declining to force Mr. Cheney to disclose secret documents from an energy task force.
He did step aside from a case concerning the Pledge of Allegiance in 2003 after saying in public that the federal appeals court in San Francisco had decided the case incorrectly.
A gregarious man, Justice Scalia accepted many speaking and teaching engagements from both conservative and liberal groups. He was occasionally criticized for his choices.
In 2007, for instance, Justice Scalia spoke on international law at a dinner in Palm Springs, Calif., organized by Charles G. Koch, a conservative activist. Justice Scalia’s expenses, a court spokeswoman said, were paid for by the Federalist Society, a conservative legal group.
In 2011, he spoke at a forum organized by the Congressional Tea Party Caucus at the invitation of Representative Michele Bachmann, Republican of Minnesota. The session was attended by members of both parties; Justice Scalia’s subject was the separation of powers.
Justice Scalia did not make it easy for journalists to cover his public appearances and generally did not allow them to be broadcast. For years, he did not allow his remarks to be taped even by print reporters seeking to ensure the accuracy of their notes.
He changed that policy in 2004 after a federal marshal ordered two reporters to erase recordings of his remarks at a high school in Hattiesburg, Miss. Justice Scalia apologized to the reporters, saying the marshal had not been following his instructions.
“I abhor as much as any American the prospect of a law enforcement officer’s seizing a reporter’s notes or recording,” he wrote to one of the reporters, Antoinette Konz of The Hattiesburg American.
In 2006, Justice Scalia responded to a reporter’s question after attending a Red Mass at the Cathedral of the Holy Cross in Boston with a chin flick that some interpreted to be an obscene gesture. The reporter had wanted to know whether Justice Scalia had taken “a lot of flak for publicly celebrating” his religious beliefs.
In a letter to The Boston Herald, Justice Scalia explained that the gesture was Sicilian in origin and meant only, “I couldn’t care less. It’s no business of yours. Count me out.”
He often made clear that he had little use for faculty-lounge orthodoxies.
In 2003, for instance, dissenting from a decision striking down a Texas law that made gay sex a crime, Justice Scalia bemoaned the influence of elite culture on the law.
“Today’s opinion,” he wrote, “is the product of a court, which is the product of a law-profession culture, that has largely signed on to the so-called homosexual agenda, by which I mean the agenda promoted by some homosexual activists directed at eliminating the moral opprobrium that has traditionally attached to homosexual conduct.”
He predicted, too, that the decision, Lawrence v. Texas, had laid the foundation for the recognition of a constitutional right to same-sex marriage.
Justice Scalia insisted that his religious beliefs played no role in his jurisprudence, and he was deeply offended by contrary suggestions.
In 2007, Geoffrey R. Stone, a law professor at the University of Chicago, where he was a colleague of Justice Scalia, made what he called “a painfully awkward observation” in The Chicago Tribune after the Supreme Court upheld the federal Partial-Birth Abortion Ban Act in Gonzales v. Carhart.
“All five justices in the majority in Gonzales are Roman Catholic,” Professor Stone wrote. “The four justices who are not all followed clear and settled precedent.”
Justice Scalia was furious, telling Ms. Biskupic that “it got me so mad that I will not appear at the University of Chicago until he is no longer on the faculty.”
Withdrawing from a debate was not typical of Justice Scalia, who usually welcomed discussion with enthusiasm and confidence. Standing up for one’s opinions, he said in a 2010 opinion, is a mark of laudable “civil courage.”
Indeed, Justice Scalia’s appetite for the sort of discussion and debate he enjoyed as a law professor was not sated by the brisk conferences the justices held after oral arguments. Under Chief Justice Rehnquist and to a lesser extent under Chief Justice Roberts, they can consist of little more than a tally of votes.
“I don’t like that,’’ Justice Scalia said after a speech at George Washington University in 1988. “Maybe it’s just because I’m new. Maybe it’s because I’m an ex-academic. Maybe it’s because I’m right.”
In a C-Span interview in 2009, Justice Scalia reflected on his role and legacy, sketching out a modest conception of the role of a Supreme Court justice.
“We don’t sit here to make the law, to decide who ought to win,” Justice Scalia said. “We decide who wins under the law that the people have adopted. And very often, if you’re a good judge, you don’t really like the result you’re reaching.”
Eric Lichtblau contributed reporting.
A version of this article appears in print on February 14, 2016, on page A1 of the New York edition with the headline: Justice Scalia, Who Led Court’s Conservative Renaissance, Dies At 79.