I watched the news
the other day. (Seventy years ago that
sentence would make little sense.) A
commentator spoke about the abuse of congressional and judicial power. This prompted me to ponder the meaning of
power in general. An insight in the form
of a rhymed couplet popped into my brain, “Conclusion: Power, an illusion.” Authorship unknown.
Example in mythology: The satyr, half human, half goat, salivating
with lust, chases the nymph through the forest.
The chase itself may give a false impression of the satyr’s power. If he catches the nymph, he may be able to
exert his power over her. But the satyr
is subject to a much more compelling power, the compulsion, the overpowering need to catch the nymph, and
maybe eat a tin can or two. Of course,
the satyr cannot escape responsibility for whatever crime he may commit against
the nymph . . . unless he has a terrific lawyer, and a persuasive psychiatrist.
And this takes me back to faulty
notions about judicial power. Oh
dear. It just occurred to me that the
satyr discussion in the preceding paragraph may not be the most apt analogy for
a transition. So do me a favor. Just forget about the preceding paragraph and
keep out of your mind comparisons between satyrs and judges. OK? If
you find this minor inconvenience an insuperable burden, please put the column
aside. I will catch you next month.
To continue with those still with us,
take it from me, judges have little or no power. The assembled lawyers stand at attention when
the judge “takes” the bench for oral argument.
The judge says, “You may be seated.” That is not power. Nor is it a sign of power that lawyers laugh
at a judge’s humorless jokes at a bar meeting. What about deciding a case, you may ask? Nothing to do with power. That is simply a judge doing her job.
Judges who look like judges were
thought by some to carry an aura of power and respect. What kind of appearance or look is that? Not the one I see when I look in the mirror. But you know what I mean, the elderly gray-haired
judge (so far that’s me), who is tall, gentlemanly, kindly, wise, all knowing
(not me) that was portrayed in 1940’s movies.
When I was the supervising judge of the
Los Angeles Traffic Court many decades ago, some actors were being filmed for a
Hanes Hosiery commercial in one of the empty courtrooms in the building. I knew one of the actors and popped into the
courtroom to say hello. Numerous male
actors, wearing judicial robes, were dancing around the courtroom in their
stocking feet. If judges were supposed
to be middle-aged males with silver hair and have a distinguished looking
profile, they fit the bill. I was the
only judge in the room who didn’t look like a casting director’s vision of what
a judge should look like. As for dancing
around the courtroom in one’s stocking feet….well, that’s an entirely different
story.
But whether a judge looks like a judge
or not, in many ways, a judge has less power than the average citizen. Drive down the freeway and some jerk cuts you
off. No matter who you are, it is best
practice not to flip the person off. It
is mandatory not to do so if you are a judge …. "Just say no." A commercial truck parks behind you in a near
empty parking lot early in the morning and blocks you. You nicely ask the driver to move a few
feet. The driver says “no” or simply
shrugs his shoulders and refuses to move.
That happened to my colleague Justice
Perren last week. He even said “please”
to no avail. He considered his options
and filed them in the rejection basket. He called the company to complain. Don’t hold your breath.
I understand Justice Perren’s
frustration. A young woman and I happen
to work out at the gym during the same early morning hour. I have a compulsion to ask her a question,
but … I feel constrained to do so. She
wears this backless workout outfit and, wait a second, don’t go there. Let me finish. Now you know why I told you to forget the
satyr discussion. Oh wonderful, I
brought up the very thing we all agreed we would forget. She has a tattoo on her back between her
shoulder blades. But it is not the
depiction of a scene, or a flower, or cryptic insignia. It is a printed paragraph of a few sentences.
The writing is
small requiring one‑‑OK, me‑‑ to get unacceptably close to read it. I squinted from a respectful distance and
tried to read it without getting arrested.
I can’t make it out. I think it’s
the Second Amendment. But I am pretty
sure she is not packing a gun, not with that gym outfit. Yes, I could just ask what the paragraph
says. I don’t know… I may be asking for
trouble. I can see the headlines. Judge
accosts young woman in gym. I don’t
need it.
But wait a
minute. We already determined I don’t
look like a judge. I could ask her, “Excuse
me, but I couldn’t help noticing….”
True, she might say “none of your business and quit looking at my
back.” But she wouldn’t even know I am a
judge. I think I may ask her. If I do, I will report back and let you know
what happened.
I know one
person who could never ask the young lady the question I wish to pose, Judge
Merrick Garland. He actually looks like
a judge. And he has a perfect name for a
judge. And he is one of the finest
judges one can imagine. And there is
Congress. And this takes us back to
false notions of power. Do not let those
senators fool you. They are not doing
their job.
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