By Mona Charen
Thursday, October 12, 2017
I knew the late Justice Antonin Scalia a little, and,
like millions of others, I was an avid fan of his jurisprudence, the great bulk
of which he produced after I was no longer a law student — so much the worse
for me.
What do I have to do with it? Nothing, except that
reading opinions as a law student was often like trying to swallow great bowls
of sawdust — without milk. Very few judges can write well. On the rare
occasions when I came across a decision by Learned Hand, I would practically
weep with gratitude for his clear, forceful prose.
Antonin Scalia was not just a great stylist for a jurist,
he was a great writer for a writer. Most of his work, though, obviously, was in
the form of opinions and dissents, and even the best Supreme Court opinions are
required to include copious citations in the text, which, for the general
reader, can be distracting speed bumps. That’s one of the many reasons to
rejoice at a new collection of Scalia’s speeches.
Scalia Speaks
is a joint effort by Ethics and Public Policy Center president Ed Whelan (a
former Scalia law clerk) and Christopher Scalia, one of the justice’s nine
children and a former English professor. It offers even the non-specialist an
almost intimate picture of one of the giants of our age. Here, in vivid prose,
without textual clutter, is his case for originalism, against the “living
constitution,” and for judicial modesty.
Just as compelling are the other dimensions of Scalia’s
life and personality that shine through. In 1997, the University Club of
Washington gave the justice a sports award. He began with characteristic
drollery: “I have been asked many, many times to what do I attribute my
well-known athletic prowess.” He then related the games and sports he had
played as a kid in Queens, New York.
The speech is a veritable time capsule, conveying an
almost unrecognizable era when unsupervised kids devised their own games using
little more than a spaldeen ball and a broom stick. “There were no soccer moms
because there was no soccer. Americans overwhelmingly preferred baseball, a
game in which a lot of players stand around while not much happens, to soccer,
a game in which people run back and forth furiously while not much happens.”
The man who would famously refer in one Supreme Court opinion to
“argle-bargle,” recalled fondly that one of his childhood games was called
“mumblety-peg” and consisted of throwing a penknife into a square marked off in
the dirt. “In those days, nobody worried about kids carrying knives.”
There is much to learn in these speeches about the
Constitution, Western civilization, the intersection of faith and public
policy, American history, and, of course, the law. But the thread that connects
all is Scalia’s bone-deep appreciation for the primacy of character. Again and
again he stressed that a decent society ultimately rests not on laws or customs
or even history but on the character of the people. He gave many speeches at
universities, law schools, and (if one of his nine children or numerous
grandchildren was in the graduating class) at high schools.
A recurring theme was the purpose of education, which he
believed was not only to instill knowledge, but to build character. Scalia
quoted his own father, a professor of Romance languages and no intellectual
slouch himself, who advised: “Brains are like muscles, they can be rented by
the hour. The only thing that’s not for sale at any price is character.”
Scalia’s mind sparkled like a gem, but perhaps, in our
turbulent time, the most important takeaway from this collection is the lesson
it teaches about civility.
The national mood has changed even since Scalia’s death.
So many of us today are marinating in the pleasures of hatred. Justice Scalia
was one of the most skilled polemicists of our time, but he was the opposite of
a hater. He had an open, generous nature. Some of the eulogies he offered for
friends are included in Scalia Speaks,
and they convey just how perceptive and appreciative he was. The most important
things in life — work, family, attitude, piety — are the things he treasured in
others. And though neither MSNBC nor Fox News would choose to focus on this, he
didn’t allow political differences to poison personal relationships. Justice
Ruth Bader Ginsburg was among his closest friends. He taught Justice Elena
Kagan to hunt.
Justice Ginsburg provided a warm introduction, in which
she revealed that she and Scalia used to trade drafts, the better to hone their
arguments. “If our friendship encourages others to appreciate that some very
good people have ideas with which we disagree, and that, despite differences,
people of goodwill can pull together for the well-being of the institutions we
serve and our country, I will be overjoyed, as I am confident Justice Scalia
would be.”
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