Judicial Integrity and Judicial Independence: A Clash of Values?

This past spring, the investigative journalism site ProPublica broke a major story about ethically questionable—and previously undisclosed—relationships between ultra-wealthy (and politically active) individuals and Supreme Court justices. The reports focused in particular on Justice Thomas and Justice Alito, two of the Court’s most conservative members. According to ProPublica’s reports, in 2008 Justice Alito accepted a luxury fishing trip—which involved flights on a private jet and a stay at a lodge that charges more than $1,000 a day—from billionaire Paul Singer, whose hedge fund often had cases before the Court, including a 2014 case in which Justice Alito did not recuse himself and voted in the hedge fund’s favor. With respect to Justice Thomas, ProPublica revealed that for years—starting shortly after he joined the Court—Justice Thomas has received substantial benefits from billionaire “friends,” including private plane flights, luxury vacations, VIP passes to sporting events, and private school tuition for his nephew (whom Justice Thomas has raised like a son). Most of these gifts came from right-wing billionaire Harlan Crow, who also purchased from Justice Thomas (in a previously undisclosed deal) the house where Justice Thomas’s mother and other members of his family lived, but Justice Thomas received substantial benefits from other billionaires as well.

Many critics denounced these gifts and other transactions as evidence of blatant corruption (see here, here, here, and here). Some even drew a connection  between the Court’s jurisprudence in corruption cases—which has embraced an ever-more-restrictive definition of corruption, often limiting it to quid pro quo deals—and the Justices’ own proclivity for accepting gifts, perks, and other benefits from people with a strong ideological (and sometimes personal) stake in the Court’s decisions (see here and here). Justice Thomas and Justice Alito vigorously defended their conduct (see here and here), though they did ultimately update their financial disclosure forms for 2022 (though not earlier years) to show additional benefits they had received, and to proffer some explanations. And the Justices’ supporters have accused the accusers of using these alleged ethical issues as a pretext for attacking Supreme Court Justices whom they dislike on ideological grounds (and overlooking similar ethical lapses by Justices whose ideology they prefer).

I have my own fairly strong views about this specific controversy, but I don’t want to go into that right now. I’m not sure I have anything to add—and I’m acutely aware that, whether or not one buys the charges of pretext and selective outrage—it is very difficult to talk about this issue without being influenced by (or perceived as influenced by) one’s views on Justice Thomas’s and Justice Alito’s jurisprudence and ideology. But even putting the specifics mostly to one side, I do think the fallout from ProPublica’s reporting implicates a more general issue—one that is very difficult, and that is relevant not only in the United States but in many other countries as well: To what extent can or should the other branches of government (the executive, the legislature, or—in the countries where such entities exist—an independent anticorruption commission) impose and enforce ethical rules on the highest court (the Supreme and/or Constitutional Court)? Continue reading

Band-Aids Don’t Fix Bullet Holes: The West Virginia Supreme Court Needs To Address Its Corruption Problem

The headlines wrote themselves: a $32,000 couch (complete with $1,000 worth of throw pillows). A $10,000 payment to a private attorney to “ghostwrite” a court opinion. Illegal overpayments to former colleagues in the hundreds of thousands of dollars. Public outcry erupted in late 2017 when news broke that the justices on the West Virginia Supreme Court of Appeals (the highest court in the state) had spent lavishly on office renovations. Further investigations revealed that some justices had used state-owned vehicles and government credit cards for personal use. Three of the justices were accused of scheming to overpay retired judges who were contracted by the judiciary to fill in on the trial courts in times of vacancy or high caseloads. But the most brazen allegations were leveled against Chief Justice Allen Loughry, who was convicted of wire fraud and obstructing an investigation into his enriching himself at taxpayer expense—despite the modest fame and fortune he (ironically) earned as the author of a book on political corruption in West Virginia.

The pervasiveness and diversity of the misdeeds on the West Virginia Supreme Court of Appeals over the past few years suggest that the corruption was in many ways a cultural problem. But it’s worth noting that the most serious allegations of corruption were likely not actually criminal. A quirk in West Virginia’s law gave the Supreme Court near-total control over its own budget, paving the way for the unchecked spending. Likewise, the intentional overpayments to retired judges reeked of cronyism but may or may not have been illegal; while a statute capped payments to part-time judges, the judiciary still arguably retained ultimate control how and how much to spend.

In response to the revelations of corruption, West Virginia’s government settled on two aggressive solutions. First, in August 2018 the West Virginia House of Delegates approved 11 articles of impeachment against the four justices still on the court and scheduled trials for each of them before the State Senate to determine if they should be removed from office. (The normally five-member court was already down a justice, who resigned in July a few weeks before pleading guilty to federal fraud charges.) The impeachment proceedings were met with outrage by some commentators (see here, here, and here), who saw them as a partisan power grab. Questionable motives aside, the results of the impeachment charges were still a mixed bag: one justice resigned from the Supreme Court before her trial. Another was acquitted of all charges but formally censured by the State Senate in a lopsided vote. The other two justices escaped any impeachment trial after an interim slate of state Supreme Court justices threw out the impeachment charges against their fellow justices on technical grounds. Chief Justice Loughry resigned following conviction in federal court (that makes three resignations overall, if you’re keeping count), and the legislature backed down from further impeachments. Second, after the impeachments, West Virginia’s voters overwhelmingly approved a constitutional amendment that wrested control over the judiciary’s budget away from the Supreme Court, giving the legislature the power to cap the judiciary’s annual spending, so long as the total amount is no less than 85% of the previous year’s budget.

But even if these measures work precisely as planned, the problem in West Virginia is far from solved. The damage to the judiciary’s legitimacy has been severe. A common refrain states that judges “like Caesar’s wife, must not only be virtuous but above suspicion.” And Chief Justice Loughry—of all people—echoed this same bold claim in his book: “Of all the criminal politicians in West Virginia, the group that shatters the confidence of the people the most is a corrupt judiciary…. It is essential that people have the absolute confidence in the integrity and impartiality of our system of justice.”

Unfortunately, the remedies implemented thus far serve only the short-sighted goals of stopping yesterday’s corruption. What is missing in the aftermath of the West Virginia scandals is a concerted effort on rebuilding trust in the judiciary. As previous scandals in the public and private sectors suggest, regaining trust in the judiciary requires public remedial actions by the judiciary itself. Replacing certain justices and adding high level legislative oversight may have been appropriate, even essential, measures, but they don’t necessarily help the court restore its integrity and repair its tarnished reputation. Moreover, focusing exclusively on these externally-imposed remedies may send a signal that the judiciary can’t be trusted to handle its own affairs. This makes it all the more imperative that the judiciary take the initiative in addressing its cultural problem and rebuilding public trust in the courts. A willingness to accept responsibility for past mistakes and engage in transparent self-evaluation will be critical as the West Virginia Supreme Court begins its new term this month. In particular, there are two steps the Court could take that would be helpful: Continue reading