The Core of The Case Against Judicial Review
The Core of The Case Against Judicial Review
JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide
range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and
facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected].
Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at
https://about.jstor.org/terms
is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to The Yale Law Journal
A B S T R A C T. This Essay states the general case against judicial review of legislation c
and in a way that is uncluttered by discussions of particular decisions or the history of its
emergence in particular systems of constitutional law. The Essay criticizes judicial review o
main grounds. First, it argues that there is no reason to suppose that rights are better pro
by this practice than they would be by democratic legislatures. Second, it argues that, quit
from the outcomes it generates, judicial review is democratically illegitimate. The second
argument is familiar; the first argument less so.
However, the case against judicial review is not absolute or unconditional. In this Ess
premised on a number of conditions, including that the society in question has good wo
democratic institutions and that most of its citizens take rights seriously (even if they may
disagree about what rights they have). The Essay ends by considering what follows from t
failure of these conditions.
1346
INTRODUCTION 1348
CONCLUSION 1406
1347
INTRODUCTION
Should judges have the authority to strike down legislation when they are
convinced that it violates individual rights? In many countries they do. Th
best known example is the United States. In November 2003, the Suprem
Judicial Court of Massachusetts ruled that the state's marriage licensing laws
violated state constitutional rights to due process and equal protection b
implicitly limiting marriage to a union between a man and a woman.' Th
decision heartened many people who felt that their rights had bee
unrecognized and that, as gay men and women, they had been treated as
second-class citizens under the existing marriage law.2 Even if the decision is
eventually overturned by an amendment to the state constitution, the plaintiff
and their supporters can feel that at least the issue of rights is now being
confronted directly. A good decision and a process in which claims of rights a
steadily and seriously considered3- for many people these are reasons fo
cherishing the institution of judicial review. They acknowledge that judici
review sometimes leads to bad decisions - such as the striking down of 17
labor statutes by state and federal courts in the Lochner era4 - and they
acknowledge that the practice suffers from some sort of democratic deficit. Bu
they say, these costs are often exaggerated or mischaracterized. The democrat
process is hardly perfect and, in any case, the democratic objection is itse
problematic when what is at stake is the tyranny of the majority. We can, the
argue, put up with an occasional bad outcome as the price of a practice that ha
given us decisions like Lawrence, Roe, and Brown,5 which upheld our society's
commitment to individual rights in the face of prejudiced majorities.
That is almost the last good thing I shall say about judicial review. (I
wanted to acknowledge up front the value of many of the decisions it has give
us and the complexity of the procedural issues.) This Essay will argue that
judicial review of legislation is inappropriate as a mode of final decisionmaking
in a free and democratic society.
1348
Arguments to this effect have been heard before, and often. They arise
naturally in regard to a practice of this kind. In liberal political theory,
legislative supremacy is often associated with popular self-government,6 and
democratic ideals are bound to stand in an uneasy relation to any practice that
says elected legislatures are to operate only on the sufferance of unelected
judges. Alexander Bickel summed up the issue in the well-known phrase, "the
counter-majoritarian difficulty."7 We can try to mitigate this difficulty, Bickel
said, by showing that existing legislative procedures do not perfectly represent
the popular or the majority will. But, he continued,
6. The locus classicus for this concept is John Locke, The Second Treatise of Government, in Two
Treatises of Government 265, 366-67 (Peter Laslett ed., Cambridge Univ. Press 1988)
(1690).
7. Alexander M. Bickel, The Least Dangerous Branch 16-17 (2d ed. 1986) ("[J]udicial
review is a counter-majoritarian force in our system. . . . [W]hen the Supreme Court
declares unconstitutional a legislative act . . . it thwarts the will of representatives of the
actual people of the here and now-").
8. Id. at 17-18.
9. Abortion Act, 1967, c. 87; Sexual Offences Act, 1967, c. 60; Murder (Abolition of Death
Penalty) Act, 1965, c. 71.
1349
1350
intervention? I have written plenty about this myself already.14 Why another
article attacking judicial review?
What I want to do is identify a core argument against judicial review that is
independent of both its historical manifestations and questions about its
particular effects - the decisions (good and bad) that it has yielded, the
heartbreaks and affirmations it has handed down. I want to focus on aspects of
the case against judicial review that stand apart from arguments about the way
judges exercise their powers and the spirit (deferential or activist) in which
they approach the legislation brought before them for their approval. Recent
books by Mark Tushnet and Larry Kramer entangle a theoretical critique of the
practice with discussions of its historical origins and their vision of what a less
judicialized U.S. Constitution would involve."5 This is not a criticism of
Tushnet and Kramer. Their books are valuable in large part because of the
richness and color they bring to the theoretical controversy. As Frank
Michelman says in his blurb on the back cover of The People Themselves,
Kramer's history "puts flesh on the bones of debates over judicial review and
popular constitutionalism."'16 And so it does. But I want to take off some of the
flesh and boil down the normative argument to its bare bones so that we can
look directly at judicial review and see what it is premised on.
Charles Black once remarked that, in practice, opposition to judicial review
tends to be "a sometime thing," with people supporting it for the few cases
they cherish (like Brown or Roe) and opposing it only when it leads to
outcomes they deplore.'7 In politics, support for judicial review is sometimes
intensely embroiled in support for particular decisions. This is most notably
true in the debate over abortion rights, in which there is a panic-stricken
refusal among pro-choice advocates to even consider the case against judicial
review for fear this will give comfort and encouragement to those who regard
Roe v. Wade as an unwarranted intrusion on the rights of conservative
legislators. I hope that setting out the core case against judicial review in
14- See, e.g., Jeremy Waldron, Law and Disagreement 10-17, 211-312 (1999); Jeremy
Waldron, Deliberation, Disagreement, and Voting, in Deliberative Democracy and Human
Rights 210 (Harold Hongju Koh & Ronald C. Slye eds., 1999) [hereinafter Waldron,
Deliberation, Disagreement, and Voting]; Jeremy Waldron, Judicial Power and Popular
Sovereignty, in Marbury Versus Madison: Documents and Commentary 181 (Mark A.
Graber & Michael Perhac eds., 2002) [hereinafter Waldron, Judicial Power and Popular
Sovereignty] ; Jeremy Waldron, A Right-Based Critique of Constitutional Rights, 13 Oxford J.
Legal Stud. 18 (1993) [hereinafter Waldron, A Right-Based Critique].
15. See Kramer, supra note 11 ; Tushnet, supra note 11.
16. Frank Michelman, Jacket Comment on Kramer, supra note 11.
17. Charles L. Black, Jr., A New Birth of Freedom: Human Rights, Named and Unnamed
109 (1997)
1351
1352
a clear and uncluttered way what the basic objection is, nor do I think I have
given satisfactory answers to those who have criticized the arguments I
presented in Law and Disagreement and elsewhere.
In this Essay, I shall argue that judicial review is vulnerable to attack on
two fronts. It does not, as is often claimed, provide a way for a society to focus
clearly on the real issues at stake when citizens disagree about rights; on the
contrary, it distracts them with side-issues about precedent, texts, and
interpretation. And it is politically illegitimate, so far as democratic values are
concerned: By privileging majority voting among a small number of unelected
and unaccountable judges, it disenfranchises ordinary citizens and brushes
aside cherished principles of representation and political equality in the final
resolution of issues about rights.
I will proceed as follows. In Part I, I will define the target of my
argument- strong judicial review of legislation - and distinguish it from other
practices that it is not my intention to attack. Part II will set out some
assumptions on which my argument is predicated: My argument against
judicial review is not unconditional but depends on certain institutional and
political features of modern liberal democracies. Then, in Part III, I will review
the general character of the argument I propose to make. That argument will
attend to both outcome- and process-related reasons, and these will be
discussed in Parts IV and V, respectively. In Part VI, I will expose the fallacy of
the most common argument against allowing representative institutions to
prevail: that such a system inevitably leads to the tyranny of the majority.
Finally, in Part VII, I shall say a little bit about non-core cases - that is, cases in
which there is reason to depart from the assumptions on which the core
argument depends.
about its ultimate compatibility with democracy, see Jeremy Waldron, Judicial Review and the
Conditions of Democracy, 6 J. Pol. Phil. 335 (1998).
20. Much of what is done by the European Court of Human Rights is judicial review of
executive action. Some of it is judicial review of legislative action, and some of it is actually
judicial review of judicial action. See Seth F. Kreimer, Exploring the Dark Matter of Judicial
Review: A Constitutional Census of the i??os, 5 Wm. & Mary Bill Rts. J. 427, 458-59 (1997),
for the claim that the majority of constitutional decisions by the United States Supreme
Court concern challenges to the actions of low-level bureaucrats rather than of legislatures.
1353
21. Seana Shiffrin, Richard Pildes, Frank Michelman, and others have urged me to consider
how far my argument against judicial review of legislation might also extend to judicial
review of executive action in the light of statutes enacted long ago or statutes whose
provisions require extensive interpretation by the courts. Clearly more needs to be said
about this. Pursuing the matter in this direction might be considered either a reductio ad
absurdum of my argument or an attractive application of it.
22. The distinction between strong and weak judicial review is separate from the question of
judicial supremacy. Judicial supremacy refers to a situation in which (1) the courts settle
important issues for the whole political system, (2) those setdements are treated as
absolutely binding on all other actors in the political system, and (3) the courts do not defer
to the positions taken on these matters in other branches (not even to the extent to which
they defer to their own past decisions under a limited principle of stare decisis). See Barry
Friedman, The History of the Countermajoritarian Difficulty, Part One: The Road to Judicial
Supremacy, 73 N.Y.U. L. Rev. 333, 352 & n.63 (1998); Jeremy Waldron, Judicial Power and
Popular Sovereignty, supra note 14, at 191-98.
1354
authority.23 It appears that American courts do not,4 but the real effect of their
authority is not much short of it.25
In a system of weak judicial review, by contrast, courts may scrutinize
legislation for its conformity to individual rights but they may not decline to
apply it (or moderate its application) simply because rights would otherwise be
violated.26 Nevertheless, the scrutiny may have some effect. In the United
Kingdom, the courts may review a statute with a view to issuing a "declaration
of incompatibility" in the event that "the court is satisfied that the provision is
incompatible with a Convention right" - i.e., with one of the rights set out in
the European Convention of Human Rights as incorporated into British law
through the Human Rights Act. The Act provides that such declaration "does
not affect the validity, continuing operation or enforcement of the provision in
respect of which it is given; and . . . is not binding on the parties to the
proceedings in which it is made."27 But still it has an effect: A minister may use
such a declaration as authorization to initiate a fast-track legislative procedure
to remedy the incompatibility.28 (This is a power the minister would not have
but for the process of judicial review that led to the declaration in the first
place.)
23. See Mauro Cappelletti & John Clarke Adams, Comment, Judicial Review of Legislation:
European Antecedents and Adaptations, 79 Harv. L. Rev. 1207, 1222-23 (1966). There are
further complications in regard to whether the statute declared invalid is deemed to have
been invalid as of the time of its passage.
24. The matter is not clear-cut. In support of the proposition that unconstitutional statutes are
not struck out of the statute book, consider Dickerson v. United States, 530 U.S. 428 (2000),
in which the Supreme Court by a majority held that a federal statute (18 U.S.C. ? 3501)
purporting to make voluntary confessions admissible even when there was no Miranda
warning was unconstitutional. The closing words of Justice Scalia's dissent in that case seem
to indicate that legislation that the Supreme Court finds unconstitutional remains available
for judicial reference. Justice Scalia said: "I dissent from today's decision, and, until ? 3501 is
repealed, will continue to apply it in all cases where there has been a sustainable finding that
the defendant's confession was voluntary." Id at 464. A contrary impression may appear
from McCorvey v. Hill, 385 F.3d 846, 849 (5th Cir. 2004), in which the Fifth Circuit held that
the Texas abortion statute at issue in Roe v. Wade must be deemed to have been repealed by
implication. A close reading ofthat case, however, shows that the implicit repeal was held to
have been effected by the Texas statutes regulating abortion after Roe, not by the decision in
Roe itself. (I am grateful to Carol S?nger for this reference.)
25. See Richard H. Fall?n, Jr., Commentary, As-Applied and Facial Challenges and Third-Party
Standing, 113 Harv. L. Rev. 1321,1339-40 (2000).
26. See Stephen Gardbaum, The New Commonwealth Model of Constitutionalism, 49 Am. J. Comp.
L. 707 (2001).
27. Human Rights Act, 1998, c. 42, ? 4(2), (6).
28. Id. ? 10.
1355
(2) An Act or a provision of an Act in respect of which a declaration made under this
section is in effect shall have such operation as it would have but for the provision of this
Charter referred to in the declaration.
33. When it has been invoked, it has mostly been in the context of Qu?b?cois politics. See Tsvi
Kahana, The Notwithstanding Mechanism and Public Discussion: Lessons from the Ignored
Practice of Section 33 of the Charter, 44 J. Inst. Pub. Admin. Can. 255 (2001).
1356
34? Jeffrey Goldsworthy has suggested that the "notwithstanding" provision provides a
sufficient answer to those of us who worry, on democratic grounds, about the practice of
strong judicial review. Jeffrey Goldsworthy, Judicial Review, Legislative Override, and
Democracy, 38 Wake Forest L. Rev. 451, 454-59 (2003). It matters not, he says, that the
provision is rarely used.
[SJurely that is the electorate's democratic prerogative, which Waldron would be
bound to respect. It would not be open to him to object that an ingenuous
electorate is likely to be deceived by the specious objectivity of constitutionalised
rights, or dazzled by the mystique of the judiciary?by a naive faith in judges'
expert legal skills, superior wisdom, and impartiality. That objection would
reflect precisely the same lack of faith in the electorate's capacity for enlightened
self-government that motivates proponents of constitutionally entrenched rights.
Id. at 456-57. I believe that the real problem is that section 33 requires the legislature to
misrepresent its position on rights. To legislate notwithstanding the Charter is a way of
saying that you do not think Charter rights have the importance that the Charter says they
have. But the characteristic stand-off between courts and legislatures does not involve one
group of people (judges) who think Charter rights are important and another group of
people (legislators) who do not. What it usually involves is groups of people (legislative
majorities and minorities, and judicial majorities and minorities) all of whom think Charter
rights are important, though they disagree about how the relevant rights are to be
understood. Goldsworthy acknowledges this:
When the judiciary ... is expected to disagree with the legislature as to the "true"
meaning and effect of Charter provisions, the legislature cannot ensure that its
view will prevail without appearing to override the Charter itself. And that is
vulnerable to the politically lethal objection that the legislature is openly and self
confessedly subverting constitutional rights.
Id. at 467. However, maybe there is no form of words that can avoid this difficulty. As a
matter of practical politics, the legislature is always somewhat at the mercy of the courts'
public declarations about the meaning of the society's Bill or Charter of Rights. I am grateful
to John Morley for this point.
35. The most famous judicial defense of judicial review, Marbury v. Madison, had nothing to do
with individual rights. It was about Congress's power to appoint and remove justices of the
peace.
1357
1358
39- Some systems of the first kind make provision for ex ante advisory opinions in limited
circumstances. For example, in Massachusetts, "[e]ach branch of the legislature, as well as
the governor or the council, shall have authority to require the opinions of the justices of the
supreme judicial court, upon important questions of law, and upon solemn occasions."
Mass. Const, pt. II, ch. Ill, art. II (amended 1964). This procedure was used in the months
following the Goodridge decision, discussed at the beginning of this Essay. In Opinions of the
Justices to the Senate, 802 N.E.2d 565 (Mass. 2004), the Supreme Judicial Court of
Massachusetts held that a legislative provision for civil unions for same-sex couples that also
prohibited discrimination against civilly joined spouses would not be sufficient to avoid the
constitutional objection to the ban on same-sex marriages noted in Goodridge.
40. See Jeremy Waldron, Eisgruber's House of Lords, 37 U.S.F. L. Rev. 89 (2002).
41. See infra Section IV.A.
42. These assumptions are adapted from those set out in Jeremy Waldron, Some Models of
Dialogue Between Judges and Legislators, 23 Sup. Ct. L. Rev. 2d 7, 9-21 (2004).
1359
1360
A. Democratic Institutions
1361
1362
B. Judicial Institutions
I assume that the society we are considering has courts - that is, a well
established and politically independent judiciary, again in reasonably good
working order, set up to hear lawsuits, settle disputes, and uphold the rule of
law. I assume that these institutions are already authorized to engage in judicial
review of executive actions, testing it against statutory and constitutional law.
I assume that, unlike the institutions referred to in the previous Section, the
courts are mostly not elective or representative institutions. By this I mean not
only that judicial office is not (for the most part) an elective office, but also that
the judiciary is not permeated with an ethos of elections, representation, and
electoral accountability in the way that the legislature is. Many defenders of
judicial review regard this as a huge advantage, because it means courts can
deliberate on issues of principle undistracted by popular pressures and
invulnerable to public anger. Sometimes, however, when it is thought
necessary to rebut the democratic case against judicial review, defenders of the
practice will point proudly to states where judges are elected. This happens in
some states in the United States. But even where judges are elected, the
business of the courts is not normally conducted, as the business of the
legislature is, in accordance with an ethos of representation and electoral
accountability.
I am going to assume that, in the society we are considering, courts are
capable of performing the functions that would be assigned to them under a
practice of judicial review. They could review legislation; the question is
whether they should, and if so, whether their determinations should be final
and binding on the representative branches of government. I assume, though,
that if they are assigned this function, they will perform it as courts
characteristically perform their functions. There is an immense law review
literature on the specific character of the judicial process and of the tasks for
which courts do and do not seem institutionally competent.49 I do not want to
delve deeply into that here. As I indicated above, I will assume that we are
dealing with courts that (1) do not act on their own motion or by abstract
reference, but rather respond to particular claims brought by particular
litigants; (2) deal with issues in the context of binary, adversarial presentation;
and (3) refer to and elaborate their own past decisions on matters that seem
relevant to the case at hand. I further assume a familiar hierarchy of courts,
49. See, e.g., Henry M. Hart, Jr. & Albert M. Sacks, The Legal Process : Basic Problems in
the Making and Application of Law 640-47 (William N. Eskridge, Jr. & Philip P. Frickey
eds., 1994) ; Lon L. Fuller, The Forms and Limits of Adjudication, 92 Harv. L. Rev. 353 (1978).
1363
C. A Commitment to Rights
so. See Jesse H. Choper, Judicial Review and the National Political Process (1980)
(discussing the Supreme Court's legitimacy in this context) ; see also Planned Parenthood of
Se. Pa. v. Casey, 505 U.S. 833, 864-69 (1992) (same).
1364
The details of the prevalent theory of rights need not detain us here. I
assume that this society-wide commitment to rights involves an awareness of
the worldwide consensus on human rights and of the history of thinking about
rights.5' I assume that this commitment is a living consensus, developing and
evolving as defenders of rights talk to one another about what rights they have
and what those rights imply. I assume that the commitment to rights is not
just lip service and that the members of the society take rights seriously: They
care about them, they keep their own and others' views on rights under
constant consideration and lively debate, and they are alert to issues of rights in
regard to all the social decisions that are canvassed or discussed in their midst.
No doubt there are skeptics about rights in every society, but I assume that
this position is an outlier. Some reject rights as they reject all political morality;
others reject rights because they hold utilitarian, socialist, or other doctrines
that repudiate them for (what purport to be) good reasons of political
morality- e.g., rights are too individualistic or their trumping force
undermines the rational pursuit of efficiency or whatever. But I assume that
general respect for individual and minority rights is a serious part of a broad
consensus in the society, part of the most prevalent body of political opinion,
and certainly part of the official ideology.
To make this third assumption more concrete, we may assume also that the
society cherishes rights to an extent that has led to the adoption of an official
written bill or declaration of rights of the familiar kind. I shall refer to this
throughout as the "Bill of Rights" of the society concerned. This is supposed to
correspond to, for example, the rights provisions of the U.S. Constitution and
its amendments, the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, the European
Convention on Human Rights (as incorporated, say, into British law in the
Human Rights Act), or the New Zealand Bill of Rights Act. Those familiar
with the last of these examples will recognize that I am making no assumption
that the Bill of Rights is entrenched or part of a written constitution. I want to
leave that open. All I assume at this stage is that a Bill of Rights has been
enacted to embody the society's commitment to rights. Thus, it may have been
enacted sometime in the past on the society's own initiative, or it may be the
product of imitation, or it may be a fulfillment of the country's external
obligations under human rights law.
51. This is so even if this awareness does not involve much more than a vague understanding
that human rights conventions have become ascendant in the world since 1945, and that
their history reaches back to the sort of conceptions of natural right alluded to in documents
such as the 1776 Declaration of Independence and the 1789 French Declaration of the Rights
of Man and the Citizen.
1365
1366
substantial dissensus as to what rights there are and what they amount to.
Some of these disagreements are apparent at a philosophical level (e.g.,
whether socioeconomic rights should be included in the Bill of Rights), some
become apparent when we try to relate abstract principles of right to particular
legislative proposals (e.g., whether the free exercise of religion demands
exemptions from otherwise generally applicable laws), and some become
apparent only in the context of hard individual cases (e.g., how much tolerance
for dissident speech there should be in a time of national emergency).
I assume that the rights-disagreements are mostly not issues of
interpretation in a narrow legalistic sense. They may present themselves in the
first instance as issues of interpretation, but they raise questions of
considerable practical moment for the political community. Elsewhere I have
referred to these as "watershed" issues of rights.54 They are major issues of
political philosophy with significant ramifications for the lives of many people.
Moreover, I assume that they are not idiosyncratic to the society in which they
arise. They define major choices that any modern society must face, choices
that are reasonably well understood in the context of existing moral and
political debates, choices that are focal points of moral and political
disagreement in many societies. Examples spring quickly to mind: abortion,
affirmative action, the legitimacy of government redistribution or interference
in the marketplace, the rights of criminal suspects, the precise meaning of
religious toleration, minority cultural rights, the regulation of speech and
spending in electoral campaigns, and so on.
As these examples suggest, disagreements about rights are often about
central applications, not just marginal applications. Because I am already
assuming a general commitment to rights, it is tempting to infer that that
general commitment covers the core of each right and that the right only
becomes controversial at the outer reaches of its application. That is a mistake.
A commitment to rights can be wholehearted and sincere even while watershed
cases remain controversial. For example, two people who disagree about
whether restrictions on racist hate speech are acceptable may both accept that
the right to free speech is key to thinking through the issue and they may both
accept also that the case they disagree about is a central rather than marginal
issue relative to that right. What this shows, perhaps, is that they have
different conceptions of the right,"5 but that is no reason to doubt the sincerity
of their adherence to it.
54- See Waldron, Judicial Power and Popular Sovereignty, supra note 14, at 198.
55. For a discussion of the distinction between the concept of a right and various conceptions of
it, see Ronald Dworkin, Taking Rights Seriously 134-36 (1977).
1367
1368
59- See Thomas Christiano, Waldron on Law and Disagreement, 19 Law & Phil. 513, 537 (2000).
60. Once again, I am not saying that the provisions in the Bill of Rights cover the central cases,
with disagreement confined to the margins of their application. The provisions are usually
vague and abstract, leaving open the possibility that even when there are uncontroversial
cases, people still might be using the same abstract formula to cover different substantive
approaches to the right?and we should still say that they both take the right seriously.
61. Cf. Jon Stewart et al., America (The Book) : A Citizen's Guide to Democracy Inaction
90 (2004) (discussing Roe v. Wade and noting that "[t]he Court rules that the right to
privacy protects a woman's decision to have an abortion and the fetus is not a person with
constitutional rights, thus ending all debate on this once-controversial issue").
1369
1370
Let us assume, for now, that the legislature is broadly aware of the issues of
rights that a given bill gives rise to and that, having deliberated on the matter,
it resolves - through debate and voting - to settle those issues in a particular
way. The legislature takes sides on one or more of the disagreements we
imagined in assumption four. The question we face is whether that resolution
of the legislature should be dispositive or whether there is reason to have it
second-guessed and perhaps overruled by the judiciary.
How should we answer this question? I have heard people say that the
decision-rule should be this: The legislature's decision stands, except when it
violates rights. But clearly this will not do. We are assuming that the members
of the society disagree about whether a given legislative proposal violates
rights. We need a way of resolving that disagreement. The point is as old as
Hobbes: We must set up a decision-procedure whose operation will settle, not
reignite, the controversies whose existence called for a decision-procedure in
the first place.64 This means that even though the members of the society we
are imagining disagree about rights, they need to share a theory of legitimacy
for the decision-procedure that is to settle their disagreements. So, in thinking
about the reasons for setting up such a procedure, we should think about
reasons that can be subscribed to by people on both sides of any one of these
disagreements.65
I am presenting the need for legitimate decision-procedures as a response
to the problem of moral disagreement. But I have heard philosophers say that
because disagreement is pervasive in politics, we should not let it throw us off
our stride. Because we disagree as much about legitimate decision-procedures
as we do about the justification of outcomes, and because (on my own account)
it is plain that we have to take a stand on something- namely, decision
procedures -despite such disagreement, why can't we just take a stand on the
issue of substance and be done with it?66 The response to this is that we must
go to the issue of legitimacy whether we are likely to find disagreement there or
64. Cf. Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan 123 (Richard Tuck ed., 1996) (1651).
65. Another way of saying this is that a normative political theory needs to include more than
just a basis for justifying certain decisions on their merits. It needs to be more than, say, a
theory of justice or a theory of the general good. It also has to address the normative issue of
the legitimacy of the decision-procedures that are used to make political decisions in the face
of disagreement. A normative political theory that does not do that is seriously incomplete.
66. Christiano phrases the point in terms of a regress of procedures: "We can expect
disagreement at every stage, if Waldron is right; so if we must have recourse to a higher
order procedure to resolve each dispute as it arises, then we will be unable to stop the
regress of procedures." Christiano, supra note 59, at 521. But Christiano makes no attempt to
show that this is a vicious regress. For discussion of the regress, see Waldron, supra note
14, at 298-301.
1371
67. I have heard people say that the errors are alway
The legislature may actually violate rights, whereas
interfere to protect them. This is a mistake. Cour
may sometimes violate rights by striking down a
discuss this further at the end of Part IV.
1372
[W]e do not need a precise account of what rights we have and how
they should be interpreted in order to make some instrumentalist [i.e.,
outcome-related] claims. Many instrumentalist arguments are not
based on knowledge of the content of any particular rights. Rather,
they are based on general institutional considerations about the way in
1373
1374
74- Ronald Dworkin, Sovereign Virtue: The Theory and Practice of Equality 187
(2000).
75. These summary formulations of Dworkin's view are adapted from Kavanagh, supra note 70,
at 458-59.
76. This is how the question is stated in Frank I. Michelman, Brennan and Democracy 59
60 (1999).
1375
1376
[i]n many countries there are ample reasons to suspect that members of
the legislature are moved by sectarian interests to such a degree that
they are not likely even to attempt to establish what rights (some)
people have.... We may know that certain factors are likely to cloud
people's judgments. They may be, for example, liable to be biased in
their own interest. We may therefore prefer a procedure in which those
charged with a decision are not affected, or not directly affected, by
their own decision. There are other factors known to bias judgment,
and their nature and presence can be established even without
knowledge of the content of the rights concerned.8"
Sometimes ... there are reasons for thinking that those whose interests
are not going to be affected by a decision are unlikely to try honestly to
1377
1378
able to be made in favor of courts, if only because the most familiar arguments
against judicial review are non-outcome-related. People strain to associate
outcome-related reasons with the judiciary, and in so doing they often peddle a
quite unrealistic picture of what judicial decisionmaking is like.88 Opponents of
judicial review are often accused of adopting a naively optimistic view of
legislatures. But sometimes we do this deliberately, matching one optimistic
picture with another in the face of the refusal of the defenders of courts to give
a realistic account of what happens there.89
In the remainder of this Part, I want to consider in more detail three
outcome-related advantages that are sometimes claimed for courts (a) that
issues of rights are presented to courts in the context of specific cases; (b) that
courts' approach to issues of rights is oriented to the text of a Bill of Rights;
and (c) that reasoning and reason-giving play a prominent role in judicial
deliberation. These are said to weigh in favor of judicial review. On all three
counts, however, I shall argue that there are important outcome-related defects
in the way courts approach rights and important outcome-related advantages
on the side of legislatures.
People sometimes argue that the wonderful thing about judicial reasoning
on rights (as opposed to legislative reasoning on rights) is that issues of rights
present themselves to judges in the form of flesh-and-blood individual
situations. Rights, after all, are individual rights, and it helps focus the mind to
see how an individual is affected by a piece of legislation. As Michael Moore
puts the point, "judges are better positioned for . . . moral insight than are
legislatures because judges have moral thought experiments presented to them
everyday [sic] with the kind of detail and concrete personal involvement
needed for moral insight."90
But this is mostly a myth. By the time cases reach the high appellate levels
we are mostly talking about in our disputes about judicial review, almost all
trace of the original flesh-and-blood right-holders has vanished, and argument
88. For a general critique of arguments that associate judicial review with careful moral
deliberation among, for example, Justices on the U.S. Supreme Court, see Kramer, supra
note 11, at 240. Kramer gives a fine description of the way in which Justices' political
agendas, and the phalanxes of ideologically motivated clerks in the various chambers,
interfere with anything that could be recognized as meaningful coll?gial deliberation.
89. See Jeremy Waldron, The Dignity of Legislation 2 (1999).
90. Michael S. Moore, Law as a Functional Kind, in Natural Law Theory, supra note 19, at 188,
230. For a response, see Waldron, Moral Truth and Judicial Review, supra note 19, at 83-88.
1379
91. See Sarah Weddington, Roe v. Wade: Past and Future, Address at Suffolk University Law
School, The Donahue Lecture Series (Dec. 7, 1989), in 24 Suffolk U. L. Rev. 601, 602-03
(1990).
92. Megan's Law, which created a register of sex offenders, was enacted in New Jersey in 1994,
1994 N.J. Laws 1152 (codified at N.J. Stat. Ann. ?? 2C:7-i to 7-11 (2005)), after Megan
Nicole Kanka was raped and murdered by a convicted sex offender. There is also now a
Federal Megan's Law. 42 U.S.C. ? 14071 (2000). For a description of the enactment of this
legislation, see Daniel M. Filler, Making the Case for Megan's Law: A Study in Legislative
Rhetoric, 76 Ind. L.J. 315 (2001).
93. See Eisgruber, supra note 13, at 173 ("Judges take up constitutional issues in the course of
deciding controversies between particular parties. As a result, those issues come to them in a
way that is incomplete .... Not all interested persons will have standing to appear before
the court. Judges receive evidence and hear arguments from only a limited number of
parties. ... As a result, judges may not have the information necessary to gain a
comprehensive perspective on the fairness of an entire social, political, or economic
system."). Eisgruber concludes from this that it is probably unwise for judges to attempt to
address issues that turn on what he calls "comprehensive" moral principles. Id. at 165, 171,
173.
1380
legislation, there is a question about the role that the established Bill of Rights
should play in the decision-process in which the issue is posed. From an
outcome-related point of view, is it a good idea or a bad idea that rights
disagreements be fought out in relation to the terms of a Bill of Rights?
One reason for thinking it is a good idea is that the written formulations of
the Bill of Rights can help disputants focus on the abstract rights-issues at
stake. But there are powerful reasons on the other side. The forms of words
used in the Bill of Rights will not have been chosen with rights-disagreements
in mind. Or, if they were, they will have been chosen in order to finesse the
disagreements about rights that existed at the time the Bill of Rights was set
up. Their platitudes may be exactly the wrong formulations to focus clear
headed, responsible, and good faith explorations of rights-disagreements.
The written formulations of a Bill of Rights also tend to encourage a certain
rigid textual formalism.94 A legal right that finds protection in a Bill of Rights
finds it under the auspices of some canonical form of words in which the
provisions of the Bill are enunciated. One lesson of American constitutional
experience is that the words of each provision tend to take on a life of their
own, becoming the obsessive catchphrase for expressing everything one might
want to say about the right in question. This may be less of a danger in a
system of legislative supremacy, because legislators can pose the issue for
themselves if they like without reference to the Bill of Rights' formulations.
But it is part of the modus operandi of courts to seek textual havens for their
reasoning, and they will certainly tend to orient themselves to the text of the
Bill of Rights in a rather obsessive way.
At the very least, courts will tend to be distracted in their arguments about
rights by side arguments about how a text like the Bill of Rights is best
approached by judges. American experience bears this out: The proportion of
argument about theories of interpretation to direct argument about the moral
issues is skewed in most judicial opinions in a way that no one who thinks the
issues themselves are important can possibly regard as satisfactory. This is
partly because the legitimacy of judicial review is itself so problematic. Because
judges (like the rest of us) are concerned about the legitimacy of a process that
permits them to decide these issues, they cling to their authorizing texts and
debate their interpretation rather than venturing out to discuss moral reasons
directly.95
94. This is an argument I developed in Waldron, A Right-Based Critique, supra note 14.
95. See Tushnet, supra note 11, at 60 ("Courts may design some doctrines to reflect their sense
of their own limited abilities, not to reflect direcdy substantive constitutional values.").
1381
C. Stating Reasons
96. See Jackson v. City of Joliet, 715 F.2d 1200,1203 (7th Cir. 1983) (Posner, J.) (observing that
the American constitutional scheme "is a charter of negative rather than positive liberties',) ;
cf. Mark Tushnet, An Essay on Rights, 62 Tex. L. Rev. 1363, 1393-94 (1984) ("We could of
course have a different Constitution.... One can argue that the party of humanity ought to
struggle to reformulate the rhetoric of rights so that Judge Posner's description would no
longer seem natural and perhaps would even seem strained.").
1382
the weight of such reasons is quite different for courts than for an ideal political
deliberator. Partly this is the point mentioned earlier- that the reasons will be
oriented toward the terminology of the Bill of Rights. If one is lucky enough to
have a fine and up-to-date Bill of Rights, then there may be some congruence
between judicial reason-giving and the reason-giving we would look for in
fully rational, moral, or political deliberation. But if one has an antiquated
constitution, two or three hundred years old, then the alleged reason-giving is
likely to be artificial and distorted. In the United States, what is called "reason
giving" is usually an attempt to connect the decision the court is facing with
some antique piece of ill-thought-through eighteenth- or nineteenth-century
prose. (For example, is an argument about whether "substantive due process"
is an oxymoron the best framework for thinking about labor law or, for that
matter, abortion rights?)
Courts' reason-giving also involves attempts to construct desperate
analogies or disanalogies between the present decision they face and other
decisions that happen to have come before them (and in which they were
engaged in similar contortions). There is laborious discussion of precedent,
even though it is acknowledged at the highest levels of adjudication that
precedent does not settle the matter.97 (So there is also laborious discussion of
the circumstances in which precedent should or shouldn't be overridden.98)
And all the time, the real issues at stake in the good faith disagreement about
rights get pushed to the margins. They usually take up only a paragraph or two
of the twenty pages or more devoted to an opinion, and even then the issues
are seldom addressed directly. In the Supreme Court's fifty-page opinion in
Roe v. Wade, for example, there are but a couple of paragraphs dealing with the
moral importance of reproductive rights in relation to privacy, and the few
paragraphs addressed to the other moral issue at stake- the rights-status of the
fetus - are mostly taken up with showing the diversity of opinions on the
issue.99 Read those paragraphs: The result may be appealing, but the
"reasoning" is thread-bare.
I actually think there is a good reason for this. Courts are concerned about
the legitimacy of their decisionmaking and so they focus their "reason-giving"
97? See, e.g., Henry Paul Monaghan, Stare Decisis and Constitutional Adjudication, 88 Colum. L.
Rev. 723 (1988).
98. See, e.g., Planned Parenthood of Se. Pa. v. Casey, 505 U.S. 833, 854-69 (1992) (discussing the
circumstances in which constitutional precedents may be overturned).
99. There is a tremendous amount of legal and social history in the opinion, but only a few
pages address the actual moral issues at stake. Roe v. Wade, 410 U.S. 113, 153-55 (*973)
(discussing privacy and the importance of reproductive rights); id. at 159-62 (discussing the
alleged rights or personality of the fetus).
1383
1384
listened to and heard in that discussion. i6 Think about that: How many times
have we ever heard anybody on the pro-life side pay tribute to the attention
and respectfulness with which her position was discussed, say, by the Supreme
Court in Roe v. Wade?l07
In the United States, we congratulate ourselves on consigning issues of
individual rights such as abortion rights to the courts for constitutional
adjudication on the ground that courts may be regarded as forums of principle,
to use Ronald Dworkin's famous phrase.1o8 Indeed we sometimes say the
British are backward for not doing things that way.'09 But the key difference
between the British legislative debate and the American judicial reasoning is
that the latter is mostly concerned with interpretation and doctrine, while in
the former decisionmakers are able to focus steadfastly on the issue of abortion
itself and what it entails - on the ethical status of the fetus, on the predicament
of pregnant women and the importance of their choices, their freedom, and
their privacy, on the moral conflicts and difficulties that all this involves, and
on the pragmatic issues about the role that law should play in regard to private
moral questions. Those are the issues that surely need to be debated when
society is deciding about abortion rights, and those are the issues that are given
most time in the legislative debates and least time in the judicial
deliberations.ll1
io6. See, e.g., 732 Parl. Deb., H.C. (5th ser.) (1966) 1152. Norman St. John-Stevas, a Catholic MP
who voted against the bill, nevertheless began his argument by noting, "[w]e all agree that
this has been a vitally important debate, conducted on a level which is worthy of the highest
traditions of the House." Id. He then moved on to congratulate the bill's sponsor "on the
manner in which he introduced the Bill, which he did with extraordinary moderation and
skill." Id.
107. When I mention this example, my American friends tell me that the British legislature is
organized to make forms of debate possible that are not possible in the United States. Well,
leaving aside the question of whether the United States should be regarded as a pathological
case, this is simply false. The debate I have just referred to worked because the House of
Commons suspended one of its distinguishing features?strong party discipline?for the
purpose of this issue of rights. MPs actually debated the matter much more in the style of
their American counterparts, not necessarily toeing a party line but stating their own
opinions clearly and forcefully.
108. Dworkin, supra note 3, at 33, 69-71.
109. See Editorial, Half-Measures on British Freedoms, N.Y. Times, Nov. 17, 1997, at A22
(criticizing the Human Rights Act for not moving the United Kingdom wholeheartedly to a
system of strong judicial review).
no. Elena Kagan and others have suggested to me that this critique of the way courts discuss
rights is predicated on an assumption that what we are aiming to protect are moral rights.
If, on the other hand, what we value is the protection of our legal constitutional rights, then
this mode of discussion is not as inappropriate as my critique suggests. I am not convinced.
What we aim to protect is rights, and the question is what mechanisms available in the
1385
V. PROCESS-RELATED REASONS
modern state are best at protecting them and facilitating intelligent discussion about them. I
do not assume that the mode of discourse in a moral philosophy seminar is the appropriate
one. What I am suggesting here is that it is important, one way or another, to get at the real
issues of human interests and human liberties that are at stake in our disagreements. A
legalistic way of proceeding may or may not be the best way of doing that, but it would be
quite wrong to say that we ought to value the legalism as an end in itself.
1386
1387
1388
person the greatest say possible compatible with an equal say for each of the
others. That is our principle. And we believe that our complicated electoral and
representative arrangements roughly satisfy that demand for political
equality- that is, equal voice and equal decisional authority.
Of course, in the real world, the realization of political equality through
elections, representation, and legislative process is imperfect. Electoral systems
are often flawed (e.g., by unsatisfactory arrangements for drawing district
boundaries or a lack of proportionality between districts) and so are legislative
procedures (e.g., by a system of seniority that compromises fairness in the
legislature). All this can be acknowledged. But remember our first assumption:
a set of legislative institutions-including a system of elections to the
legislature and a system of decisionmaking within it-that are in reasonably
good shape so far as these democratic values of equality and fairness are
concerned. We are assuming also that the legislators and their constituents
keep this system under review for its conformity to these principles. For
example, in many democracies there are debates about rival systems of
proportional representation, districting, and legislative procedure. Cn may
complain that these systems are not perfect and that they have not been
reformed to the extent that they ought to have been. But a good theory of
legitimacy (for real-world polities) will have a certain looseness to
accommodate inevitable defects. It will talk about reasonable fairness, not
perfect fairness. No doubt some electoral and legislative systems fail even these
generous criteria. But our core case is not supposed to address situations in
which the legislative and electoral systems are pathologically or incorrigibly
dysfunctional.
Let's return to our core case and to the confrontation we are imagining
with our recalcitrant citizen C,. That something along the lines described above
can be said in response to QC's complaint about the decision of a reasonably
well-organized legislature is important for legitimacy, but it is not conclusive.
For C, may envisage a different procedure that is even more legitimate than the
legislative procedure is. Legitimacy is partly comparative."3 Because different
institutions and processes might yield different results, defending the
legitimacy of a given institution or process involves showing that it was or
would be fairer than some other institution or process that was available and
might have reached the contrary decision."14
So now we imagine -or, in a system like the United States, we observe -
decisions being made not by a legislature but by a court (let's make it the U.S.
1389
1390
So, as Scalia says, the legitimacy questions are front-and-center, and the
defenders of judicial review have to figure out a response.
First, why should these Justices and these Justices alone decide the matter?
One answer might be that the Justices have been appointed and approved by
decisionmakers and decisionmaking bodies (the President and the Senate) who
have certain elective credentials. The President is elected and people often
know what sort of persons he is likely to appoint to the Supreme Court, and
the U.S. Senators who have to approve the appointments are elected also, and
their views on this sort of thing may be known as well. True, the Justices are
not regularly held accountable in the way legislators are, but, as we have
already remarked, we are not looking for perfection.
So, the defender of judicial review is not altogether tongue-tied in response
to our citizen's challenge; there is something to say. Nevertheless, if legitimacy
is a comparative matter, then it is a staggeringly inadequate response. The
system of legislative elections is not perfect either, but it is evidently superior as
a matter of democracy and democratic values to the indirect and limited basis
of democratic legitimacy for the judiciary. Legislators are regularly accountable
to their constituents and they behave as though their electoral credentials were
important in relation to the overall ethos of their participation in political
decisionmaking. None of this is true of Justices.
Second, even if we concede that vexed issues of rights should be decided by
these nine men and women, why should they be decided by simple majority
voting among the Justices? Here, the situation gets worse for defenders of
judicial review. I have always been intrigued by the fact that courts make their
decisions by voting, applying the MD principle to their meager numbers. I
know they produce reasons and everything we discussed above. But in the end
it comes down to head-counting: five votes defeat four in the U.S. Supreme
Court, irrespective of the arguments that the Justices have concocted. If MD is
challenged in this context, can we respond to it in roughly the same way that
we imagined a response on behalf of legislatures? Actually, no, we cannot. MD
1391
1392
123. See Jon Elster, Ulysses Unbound 88-96 (2000) (casting doubt on some arguments made
in Jon Elster, Ulysses and the Sirens: Studies in Rationality and Irrationality 93
(1984)) ; see also Waldron, supra note 14, at 255-81.
1393
1394
I want to give defenders of judicial review- for the core case - one last bite
at the apple. The concern most commonly expressed about the work of a
democratic legislature is that, because they are organized on a majoritarian
basis, legislative procedures may give expression to the "tyranny of the
majority." So widespread is this fear, so familiar an element is it in our political
culture, so easily does the phrase "tyranny of the majority" roll off our
tongues,127 that the need for judicially patrolled constraints on legislative
decisions has become more or less axiomatic. What other security do minorities
have against the tyranny of the majority?
I believe that this common argument is seriously confused. Let us grant, for
now, that tyranny is what happens to someone when their rights are denied.
The first thing to acknowledge is that, according to this definition, tyranny is
almost always going to be at stake in any disagreement about rights. In any
disagreement about rights, the side in favor of the more expansive
understanding of a given right (or the side that claims to recognize a right that
126. See John Hart Ely, Democracy and Distrust : A Theory of Judicial Review (1980).
127. Mill's one criticism of Tocqueville's Democracy in America was that the likely political effect
of his popularizing the phrase, "the tyranny of the majority," would be to give conservative
forces additional rhetoric with which to oppose progressive legislation. See John Stuart
Mill, M. de Tocqueville on Democracy in America, Edinburgh Rev., Oct. 1840, reprinted in 2
Dissertations and Discussions: Political, Philosophical, and Historical 1, 79-81
(photo, reprint 1973) (1859).
1395
1396
129- I use "topical" because their rights and interests are the topic of the decision. The term
"topical minority" is a loose one, and there is always likely to be dispute about whom it
comprises (and the same is true of "topical majority"). But the looseness is not a problem.
Even loosely defined, the distinction between topical and decisional minorities enables us to
see that not everyone who votes for the losing side in an issue about rights should be
regarded as a member of the group whose rights have been adversely affected by the
decision. See Waldron, supra note 14, at 13-14; Waldron, Precommitment and Disagreement,
supra note 19; Waldron, Rights and Majorities, supra note 19, at 64-66.
1397
1398
1399
135- For a full response, see Waldron, supra note 14, at 282-312.
1400
we can always say that because it has the last word, its members are ipso facto
ruling on the acceptability of their own view. Facile invocations of nemo iudex
in sua causa are no excuse for forgetting the elementary logic of legitimacy:
People disagree, and there is need for a final decision and a final decision
procedure.
What this second argument for the necessity of judicial review might mean
is that the members of the topical majority- i.e., the majority whose rights and
interests is at stake - should not be the ones whose votes are decisive in
determining whether those rights and interests are to remain ascendant. And
there are legitimate grounds for concern when topical majorities align with
decisional majorities. (If this alignment is endemic, then I think we are dealing
with a non-core case, for reasons I will explain in Part VII.) But it is striking
how rarely this happens, including how rarely it happens in the kinds of cases
that are normally dealt with by judicial review in the United States. Think of
the two examples I mentioned earlier: abortion and affirmative action. In
neither case is there the sort of alignment that might be worrying. Many
women support abortion rights, but so do many men; and many women
oppose them. Many African-Americans support affirmative action, but so do
many members of the white majority; and many African-Americans oppose
affirmative action. This is what we should expect in a society in which our
third and fourth assumptions, set out in Part II, are satisfied. People who take
rights seriously must be expected to disagree about them; but it is a sign of
their taking rights seriously that these disagreements will be relatively
independent of the personal stakes that individuals have in the matter.
VIl.NON-CORE CASES
The arguments I have made so far are based on four quite demanding
assumptions. What becomes of these arguments when the assumptions fail, or
for societies in which the assumptions do not hold? I have in mind particularly
my first assumption that a society has democratic and legislative institutions in
good shape so far as political equality is concerned, and my third assumption
that the members of the society we are considering are by and large committed
to the idea of individual and minority rights. For many people, I think the case
for judicial review rests on the refusal to accept these assumptions. Judicial
review is in part a response to perceived failures of democratic institutions, or it
is in part a response to the fact that many people do not take rights sufficiently
seriously (so they need a court to do it for them). In sum, supporters of the
practice will say we need judicial review of legislation in the real world, not the
ideal world defined by my assumptions.
1401
1402
137- United States v. Carolene Products Co., 304 U.S. 144, 153 n.4 (1938); see also Keith E.
Whittington, An "Indispensable Feature"? Constitutionalism and Judicial Review, 6 N.Y.U. J.
Legis. & Pub. Pol'y 21, 31 (2002) (stating that my neglect of this idea in Law and
Disagreement is "striking from the perspective of American constitutional theory").
138. Ely, supra note 126, at 135-79.
139. Tushnet, supra note 11, at 159 ("Every law overrides the views of the minority that loses_
We have to distinguish between mere losers and minorities that lose because they cannot
protect themselves in politics.").
1403
ho. See Charles R. Lawrence III, The Id, the Ego, and Equa
Racism, 39 Stan. L. Rev. 317 (1987). I am grateful to
point.
141. It is important also to distinguish between prejudices and views held strongly on religious
or ethical grounds. We should not regard the views of pro-life advocates as prejudices
simply because we do not share the religious convictions that support them. Almost all
views about rights ? including pro-choice views ? are deeply felt and rest in the final analysis
on firm and deep-seated convictions of value.
1404
it is largely confined to political elites. The idea is that most ordinary members
of the majority do not share this sympathy. Now the elite members who do
share it-I shall call them elite sympathizers - may be in the legislature or they
may be in the judiciary. The argument for giving final authority to judges is
that elite sympathizers in the judiciary are better able than elite sympathizers in
an elected legislature to protect themselves when they accord rights to the
members of an unpopular minority. They are less vulnerable to public anger
and they need not worry about retaliation. They are therefore more likely to
protect the minority.
Notice how this argument for judicial review depends on a particular
assumption about the distribution of support for the minority's rights. The
sympathy is assumed to be strongest among political elites. If that is false -if
the sympathy is stronger among ordinary people -then there is no reason to
accept the argument of the previous paragraph. On the contrary, elective
institutions may be better at protecting minority rights because electoral
arrangements will provide a way of channeling popular support for minority
rights into the legislature, whereas there are no such channels into the
judiciary. No doubt, the distribution of support for minority rights varies from
case to case. But I find it interesting that most defenders of judicial review,
when they assume that there will be some support for minority rights in a
society, are convinced that in all cases it will be found among elites if it is found
anywhere. They will defend this as an empirical claim, but I must say it is
entirely consonant with ancient prejudices about democratic decisionmaking.
One other factor to take into account is whether an established practice of
judicial review will make it easier or harder in the long-term to remedy the
elective and legislative dysfunctions we are imagining here. In certain
circumstances, discrete and insular minorities may benefit from judicial
intervention to protect their rights. But institutionally, judicial solicitude may
make things worse, or at least fail to make them much better. As the United
States found in the 1950S and 1960s, for all the excitement of judicial attacks on
segregation in Brown and other cases, what was needed in the end was strong
legislative intervention (in the form of the Civil Rights Act), and it turned out
that the main difference was not courts versus legislatures per se, but federal
institutions versus state institutions, with the federal legislature finally playing
the decisive role.
Overall, we should not read the Carolene Products footnote or any similar
doctrine as a way of "leveraging" a more general practice of judicial review into
1405
CONCLUSION
I have not sought to show that the practice of judicial review of legislation
is inappropriate in all circumstances. Instead I have tried to show why rights
based judicial review is inappropriate for reasonably democratic societies whose
main problem is not that their legislative institutions are dysfunctional but that
their members disagree about rights.
Disagreement about rights is not unreasonable, and people can disagre
about rights while still taking rights seriously. In these circumstances, th
need to adopt procedures for resolving their disagreements that respect th
voices and opinions of the persons - in their millions - whose rights are at stake
in these disagreements and treat them as equals in the process. At the sam
time, they must ensure that these procedures address, in a responsible an
deliberative fashion, the tough and complex issues that rights-disagreemen
raise. Ordinary legislative procedures can do this, I have argued, and an
additional layer of final review by courts adds little to the process except
rather insulting form of disenfranchisement and a legalistic obfuscation of th
moral issues at stake in our disagreements about rights.
Maybe there are circumstances -peculiar pathologies, dysfunctiona
legislative institutions, corrupt political cultures, legacies of racism and other
forms of endemic prejudice - in which these costs of obfuscation an
disenfranchisement are worth bearing for the time being. But defenders o
judicial review ought to start making their claims for the practice frankly on
that basis - and make it with a degree of humility and shame in regard to the
circumstances that elicit it -rather than preaching it abroad as the epitome of
respect for rights and as a normal and normatively desirable element of modern
constitutional democracy.
142. See Tushnet, supra note 11, at 158-63, for a good general discussion of the limits on th
usefulness of this line of argument for supporting judicial review.
1406