RIP, R.B.G.

A Legacy of Opinions on AND Off the Bench  

News of Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s death Friday came like a felling blow.  Adding a crushing insult to the injuries Trump has brought upon our democracy. Despite numerous ailments and talk of retirement, Ginsburg had bravely pledged to serve until after the 2020 election. Sadly, cancer prevented her from keeping that promise—leaving Trump to shamelessly make one of his own.

His vow to name a woman to fill Ginsburg’s seat is pandering at its most infuriating—and an insult to the justice’s memory. Gauging support for a female nominee in what he jokingly called his “very scientific” poll of a North Carolina crowd,  Trump boasted, “I actually like women much more than I like men.”

Really?

Trump’s misogyny is part of the public record. Clearly, he cares little for the empathy, resourcefulness, perseverance, or other characteristics unique to women with power. Just look at those he handed it to—including Sarah Huckabee Sanders (with her contempt for truth); Secretary of Education, Betsy Devos (who turned her back on college rape victims), and Kellyanne Conway (whose defense of Trump’s infamous “Access Hollywood” tape helped usher in a new complacency towards sexual assault). More than just an embarrassment to women, they are detrimental to them. What reason is there to think his female nominee will be any different?

Trump’s contempt for women was evident in his 2016 naming of Kavanaugh. Not content to simply defend his nominee, Trump belittled Christine Blasey Ford—mocking her inability to remember every detail of the day she claimed Kavanaugh sexually assaulted her, saying "’Upstairs? Downstairs? Where was it? I don't know. But I had one beer. That’s the only thing I remember.'"

Seemingly forgotten in the question of, “He said, she said,” was the undeniable existence of the entry “Renate Alumnius [sic]” on Kavanaugh’s (and his teammates’) Prep School yearbook pages. Memorializing the (unsubstantiated) sexual conquest of Catholic school student, Renate Schroeder Dolphin, the words appear 14 times in total—falsely labeling the young woman with a gross disregard for her reputation.

While Kavanaugh seemed blind to the insinuation, saying he “always treated women with dignity and respect,” Ms. Dolphin  called it, “horrible, hurtful and simply untrue; [and prayed] the [men’s] daughters are never treated this way.” The incident showed Kavanaugh to be as unapologetic in his objectification of women as Trump is. That kind of man has no place on the nation’s highest court. And both men make Ginsburg’s pro-woman stance—if not her overall humanity—more invaluable by contrast.

Ginsburg loathed the politicizing of judiciary appointees that made the courts seem like just another branch of government, choosing instead to “work for our country the way we should.” Ginsburg’s five arguments (as a lawyer) before the Supreme Court virtually ended legal discrimination against women—while providing a roadmap for later LGBTQ rulings. Whether protecting residents’ right to sue over polluted waterways (Friends of the Earth v. Laidlaw Environmental Services) or requiring that states place the mentally disabled in community settings v. institutions (Olmstead v. L.C.), Ginsburg championed all people and our planet alike.

This trailblazer’s dying wish was that she “not be replaced until a new president is installed” (seemingly in keeping with the precedent to wait set by Republicans in 2016). But Senate Majority Leader McConnell is arguing for immediate action, noting that—unlike 2016—a Republican house guarantees a rush nominee would receive a vote on the floor—and most probably be confirmed. It’s not a given, though. Two GOP senators oppose his efforts: Maine’s Susan Collins and Alaska’s Lisa Murkowski, who was against, “taking up a potential Supreme Court vacancy this close to the election,” weeks before Ginsburg’s death made it a possibility. (Perhaps it’s not surprising that both are women.)

Clearly, Ginsburg’s successor will have an effect for generations to come. But she proved that one’s work ethic and character—as much as the rulings themselves—can have lasting resonance. And it made her a cultural icon.

Her 25-year streak of having never missed hearing a case was only broken by a 2 ½ week recovery from lung surgery—in which she wrote her 2019 ruling in Timbs v. Indiana!  (A sharp contrast to a President who has spent ¼ of  his tenure at a Trump-owned golf club.)

Elfin and elegant, with signature lace collars that belied an iron resolve, Ginsburg didn’t suffer injustice—or fools—lightly. Refusing to be silenced by tradition, she was the rare justice that read her oral dissents from the bench and repeatedly rebuked the president. Sitting out Trump’s 2018 State of the Union and blasting him as “a faker,” she gave cautious dissenters permission to do the same.

From the bench or her Watergate apartment, RBG proved to be one-of-kind. A softly defiant and unwavering defender of what’s right. Legally and personally. In law… and in life.

Jason McKeeComment