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SPEECH AT THE AMERICAN BAR
ASSOCIATION ANNUAL MEETING
An Address by Anthony M. Kennedy
Associate Justice, Supreme Court of
the United States
August 9, 2003
© 2003 Anthony M. Kennedy
Mayor Brown, President Carlton,
President-elect Archer, and my fellow adherents to the Rule of Law.
Thank you for your gracious welcome and for your friendship.
Since we last met in San Francisco,
momentous and tragic events have occurred. Some say these events
changed the world. Perhaps it is more accurate to say the world is the
same, but we now have a clearer understanding of what the world is. It
is a world where in every nation many people seek freedom above all,
but where new enemies of freedom vow to attack it. In a sense this is
nothing new. In the last century free societies were attacked from
within, attacked by their own citizens, by men such as Stalin, Hitler,
and Mussolini. They attacked free institutions because they did not
believe an open society, committed to democracy, could provide for the
security and welfare of its citizens. In this century democracy's
enemies come from outside the countries they seek to destroy. They,
too, see a free and open society as a threat. Once again we face an
assault on freedom. Once again we can prevail.
Americans may find the new challenge
surprising and disappointing. We tend to think the case has been made
that a free society is a stable society, that a free society is the
birthright of all people. We do not know why we must make the case all
over again when judgment has been given in our favor. History,
however, does not acknowledge res judicata. History teaches that
freedom must make its case, again and again, from one generation to the
next. The work of freedom is never done.
Embedded in democracy is the idea of
progress. Democracy addresses injustice and corrects it. The progress
is not automatic. It requires a sustained exercise of political will;
and political will is shaped by rational public discourse. One of the
ABA's missions is to stimulate that discourse.
The impressive, pluralistic assembly of
the American Bar Association reflects many groups and interests in our
society. That is fortunate, for a disproportionate share of the
responsibility for moving toward progress in public affairs falls, in
the first instance at least, on those who are trained in the law. The
Bar is an essential catalyst for the discourse we must commence to come
closer to a more just society,
You have many issues to address.
Please permit me to talk with you about two of them. The first concerns
the inadequacies — and the injustices — in our prison and correctional
systems. The second is the continuing need to teach the principles of
freedom to our young people, who soon must become the principal
trustees of our constitutional heritage and our most treasured
institutions.
The subject of prisons and corrections
may tempt some of you to tune out. You may think, "Well I am not a
criminal lawyer. The prison system is not my problem. I might tune in
again, when he gets to a different subject." In my submission you have
the duty to stay tuned in. The subject is the concern and
responsibility of every member of our profession and of every citizen.
The Gospels' promise of mitigation at judgment if one of your fellow
citizens can say, ”I was in prison, and ye came unto me,”
does not contain an exemption for civil practitioners, or transactions
lawyers, or for any other citizen. And, as I will suggest, the energies
and diverse talents of the entire Bar are needed to address this
matter.
Even those of us who have specific
professional responsibilities for the criminal justice system can be
neglectful when it comes to the subject of corrections. The focus of
the legal profession, perhaps even the obsessive focus, has been on the
process for determining guilt or innocence. When someone has been
judged guilty and the appellate and collateral review process has
ended, the legal profession seems to lose all interest. When the
prisoner is taken away, our attention turns to the next case. When the
door is locked against the prisoner, we do not think about what is
behind it.
We have a greater responsibility. As a
profession, and as a people, we should know what happens after the
prisoner is taken away. To be sure the prisoner has violated the social
contract; to be sure he must be punished to vindicate the law, to
acknowledge the suffering of the victim, and to deter future crimes.
Still, the prisoner is a person; still, he or she is part of the family
of humankind,
Were we to enter the hidden world of
punishment, we should be startled by what we see. Consider its
remarkable scale. The nationwide inmate population today is about 2.1
million people. In California, even as we meet, this State alone keeps
over 160,000 persons behind bars. In countries such as England, Italy,
France and Germany, the incarceration rate is about 1 in 1,000 persons.
In the United States it is about 1 in 143.
We must confront another reality.
Nationwide, more than 40% of the prison population consists of
African-American inmates. About 10% of African-American men in their
mid-to-late 20s are behind bars. In some cities more than 50% of young
African-American men are under the supervision of the criminal justice
system.
While economic costs, defined in simple
dollar terms, are secondary to human costs, they do illustrate the
scale of the criminal justice system. The cost of housing, feeding and
caring for the inmate population in the United States is over 40
billion dollars per year. In the State of California alone, the cost of
maintaining each inmate in the correctional system is about $26,000 per
year. And despite the high expenditures in prison, there remain urgent,
unmet needs in the prison system.
To compare prison costs with the cost
of educating school children is, to some extent, to compare apples with
oranges, because the State must assume the full burden of housing,
subsistence, and medical care for prisoners. Yet the statistics are
troubling. When it costs so much more to incarcerate a prisoner than to
educate a child, we should take special care to ensure that we are not
incarcerating too many persons for too long. It requires one with more
expertise in the area than I possess to offer a complete analysis, but
it does seem justified to say this; our resources are misspent, our
punishments too severe, our sentences too long.
In the federal system the sentencing
guidelines are responsible in part for the increase in prison terms. In
my view the guidelines were, and are, necessary. Before they were in
place, a wide disparity existed among the sentences given by different
judges, and even among sentences given by a single judge. As my
colleague Justice Breyer has pointed out, however, the compromise that
led to the guidelines led also to an increase in the length of prison
terms. We should revisit this compromise. The Federal Sentencing
Guidelines should be revised downward.
By contrast to the guidelines, I can
accept neither the necessity nor the wisdom of federal mandatory
minimum sentences. In too many cases, mandatory minimum sentences are
unwise and unjust.
Consider this case: A young man with no
previous serious offense is stopped on the George Washington Memorial
Parkway near Washington D.C. by United States Park Police. He is
stopped for not wearing a seatbelt. A search of the car follows and
leads to the discovery of just over 5 grams of crack cocaine in the
trunk. The young man is indicted to federal court. He faces a mandatory
minimum sentence of five years. If he had taken an exit and left the
federal road, his sentence likely would have been measured in terms of
months, not years.
United States Marshals can recount the
experience of leading a young man away from his family to begin serving
his term. His mother says, "How long will my boy be gone?" They say
"Ten years" or "15 years." Ladies and gentlemen, I submit to you that a
20-year-old does not know how long ten or fifteen years is. Alexander
Solzhenitsyn describes just one day in prison in the literary classic
"One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich." Ivan Denisovich had a
ten-year sentence. At one point he multiplies the long days in these
long years by ten. Here is his final reflection: "The end of an
unclouded day. Almost a happy one. Just one of the three thousand six
hundred and fifty-three days of his sentence, from bell to bell. The
extra three were for leap years."
Under the federal mandatory minimum
statutes a sentence can be mitigated by a prosecutorial decision not to
charge certain counts. There is debate about this, but in my view a
transfer of sentencing discretion from a judge to an Assistant U. S.
Attorney, often not much older than the defendant, is misguided. The
policy gives the decision to an assistant-prosecutor not trained in the
exercise of discretion and takes discretion from the trial judge. The
trial judge is the one actor in the system most experienced with
exercising discretion in a transparent, open, and reasoned way. Most of
the sentencing discretion should be with the judge, not the
prosecutors,
Professor James Whitman considers some
of these matters in his recent book Harsh Justice. He argues
that one explanation for severe sentences is the coalescence of two
views coming from different parts of the political spectrum. One view
warns against being soft on crime; the other urges a rigid, egalitarian
approach, to sentence uniformity. Both views agree on severe sentences,
and both agree on mandatory minimum sentences. Whatever the
explanation, it is my hope that after those with experience and
expertise in the criminal justice system study the matter, this
Association will say to the Congress of the United States; "Please do
not say in cases like these the offender must serve five or ten years.
Please do not use our courts but then say the judge is incapable of
judging. Please, Senators and Representatives, repeal federal mandatory
minimums."
The legislative branch has the
obligation to determine whether a policy is wise. It is a grave mistake
to retain a policy just because a court finds it constitutional. Courts
may conclude the legislature is permitted to choose long sentences, but
that does not mean long sentences are wise or just. Few misconceptions
about government are more mischievous than the idea that a policy is
sound simply because a court finds it permissible. A court decision
does not excuse the political branches or the public from the
responsibility for unjust laws.
To help those who are serving under the
minimums, the ABA should consider a recommendation to reinvigorate the
pardon process at the state and federal levels. The pardon process, of
late, seems to have been drained of its moral force. Pardons have
become infrequent. A people confident in its laws and institutions
should not be ashamed of mercy. The greatest of poets reminds us that
mercy is "mightiest in the mightiest. It becomes the throned monarch
better than his crown.” I hope more lawyers involved in the pardon
process will say to Chief Executives, "Mr. President," or "Your
Excellency, the Governor, this young man has not served his full
sentence, but he has served long enough. Give him what only you can
give him. Give him another chance. Give him a priceless gift. Give him
liberty.”
The debate over the goals of sentencing
is a difficult one, but we should not cease to conduct it. Prevention
and incapacitation are often legitimate goals. Some classes of
criminals commit scores of offenses before they are caught, so one
conviction may reflect years of criminal activity. There are realistic
limits to efforts at rehabilitation. We must try, however, to bridge
the gap between proper skepticism about rehabilitation on the one hand
and improper refusal to acknowledge that the more than two million
inmates in the United States are human beings whose minds and spirits
we must try to reach. We should not ignore the efforts of the countless
workers and teachers and counselors who are trying to instill some
self-respect and self-reliance and self-discipline in convicted
offenders. Credit must be given to the dedicated persons who conduct
prison education programs. Over 90% of state prisons and 100% of
federal prisons offer some kind of educational program. And about one
in four state prison inmates attains a GED while in prison.
Professor Whitman concludes that the
goal of the American corrections system is to degrade and demean the
prisoner. That is a grave and serious charge. A purpose to degrade or
demean individuals is not acceptable in a society founded on respect
for the inalienable rights of the people. No public official should
echo the sentiments of the Arizona sheriff who once said with great
pride that he "runs a very bad jail."
It is no defense if our current prison
system is more the product of neglect than of purpose. Out of sight,
out of mind is an unacceptable excuse for a prison system that
incarcerates over two million human beings in the United States. To
that end, I hope it is not presumptuous of me to suggest that the
American Bar Association should ask its President and the
President-elect to instruct the appropriate committees to study these
matters, and to help start a new public discussion about the prison
system. It is the duty of the American people to begin that
discussion at once.
In seeking to improve our corrections
system, the Bar can use the full diversity of its talents. Those of you
in civil practice who have expertise in coordinating groups, finding
evidence, and influencing government policies have great potential to
help find more just solutions and more humane policies for those who
are the least deserving of our citizens, but citizens nonetheless. A
decent and free society, founded in respect for the individual, ought
not to run a system with a sign at the entrance for inmates saying,
"Abandon Hope, All Ye Who Enter Here.”
Let us turn now from the subject of
those who have broken the Social contract to those who soon will assume
the full duty to keep it. I refer to the splendid young people in this
nation who will become the next trustees of our legal and
constitutional tradition. It is my pleasure to extend formal thanks to
this Association for sponsoring the program for high school students,
the program called "The Dialogue on Freedom." Past-President Hirshon,
President Carlton, and President-elect Archer have all devoted their
personal attention to it.
This is an exercise for high school
seniors or first-year college students. It could be the foundation of a
full semester course, perhaps, but the exercise we suggested took one
session of about 90 minutes. Our figures are imprecise, but we estimate
that to date over 140,000 students have taken the class.
The students were asked to assume they
were stranded in a third-world country with strong suspicions, or
active hostility, to America, to its republican principles, and to its
commitment to freedom. Our objective was to show young people that our
heritage can endure and spread only as a conscious act. An informed
understanding of the foundations of freedom is not a genetic, inherited
characteristic. It is taught. Each generation must learn and then teach
it again.
I spoke with many of the instructors
who presented the program. As is so often the case when we work with
young people, there is good news and bad news. There is cause for
concern; and there is much to inspire confidence and optimism.
The principle that often motivated the
students' instinctive reaction to questions about basic principles of
government was tolerance. At one level this is reassuring. Tolerance,
properly understood, stems from the ideas of the Declaration of
Independence and the principles embraced by the founders of the
Republic. In our legal tradition, and in our constitutional heritage,
tolerance follows from the premise that all persons have inalienable
rights, including the right to life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness.
The exercise of those rights should be respected. Hence the idea of
tolerance.
The problem is that all too many young
people seem to equate the idea of tolerance with the concept of
relativism. This is a grave error. Unbounded relativism as a civic
philosophy soon becomes passivity and indifference: No judgments can be
made, for it is impossible to place one set of values over another.
This is a far cry from toleration derived from a belief in universal
rights. If, in the civic sphere, relativism swallows tolerance whole,
belief in universal rights turns into no belief at all. According to
this view, we cannot judge others because our view of rights has no
greater validity than any other. Were this muddled mindset to prevail,
America could not teach or transmit the principles of freedom. Some
students understand this; others do not. Some teachers understand this;
others do not.
Here is an example. We asked students
if, when discussing political philosophy in this imaginary place, they
have a civic duty to try to persuade other young people not to
surrender power to an authoritarian regime. A surprising number of
students believed other nations should be allowed to adopt any system
and pursue any domestic policy a majority wants. We overreach, they
said, if we try to influence the result by offering our views as to
what is just. Then we posed a series of problems, leading to the
question whether it would be wrong to intervene to prevent genocide or
a holocaust. A few students persisted in saying this is not our
concern. I was astounded.
This is but callous indifference
masquerading as tolerance. This is the distortion of tolerance, not
fidelity to the individual dignity from which tolerance springs. By
this calculus, the principles espoused by Washington, Hamilton,
Madison, and Jefferson mean little.
When a few students persisted in saying
those who believe in freedom should just mind their own business as to
other countries, even in the case of a holocaust, the rest of the class
was deeply troubled. They saw the problem. The legitimacy of a legal
order based on universal values and respect for all persons at this
point became more apparent. At a conceptual level, many had difficulty
trying to escape the relativist grip.
In our profession we can appreciate
that answers are not always easy when we seek to resolve concrete
problems by general principles. Life generates tough cases. And tough
cases require careful, mature deliberation. That is why we can make a
contribution to the public discourse. Still, we must remember that the
legal order rests on certain fundamental truths. These truths must be
taught. We must guard against the easy slide into neglect and
passivity. The Rule of Law will mean little in a society too apathetic
to know that vigilance is the price of liberty.
Respect for individual dignity is a
universal challenge. Trying to illustrate the point by important books
the students selected was one technique used in the high school
dialogues. Let me describe, though, a real instance when the choice of
one book made all the difference. A few years ago, a member of the bar
from California named Ed Villmoare volunteered to serve in Kosovo under
the auspices of the ABA's successful CEELI program. His wife, Paula
Huntley, decided to go with him and teach English to high school
students in that impoverished, suffering place. She has written a fine
account of the experience in a volume called The Hemingway Book Club
of Kosovo.
She wanted to teach English but had no
book. In the only store in Pristina with any books in English she found
one copy of Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea. It is short and
of course is distinguished by its dear and powerful prose. She bought
the book and copied it for the class. It was the only game in town. But
it proved to be an excellent choice. The students in her class in
Kosovo were inspired by the story of the old man, down on his luck. You
will recall the story. The old man had not caught a fish for
eighty-four days, and the townspeople thought he was finished. Then,
when he hooked a huge fish, he had to battle forces far greater than
he. The young people in a war-torn nation related to that. They
understood, too, what it means to encounter defeat but remain unbroken
and dignified by the struggle.
The children in Kosovo understood that
liberty means the right to search for dignity. So they respected the
old man's struggle. By their ready acceptance of these universal ideas
they taught their teacher, and they teach us, that individuals must
always be willing to contend against greater forces to build a better
world. Thus, the formal principles of freedom must be taught to
preserve our heritage; but we will find that the desire for freedom is
the birthright and the natural aspiration of all decent people.
Our own legal tradition has been shaped
by persons who know there is injustice but must resort to the law to
establish the general principles for fighting it. Over 115 years ago,
in this city, a man called Yick Wo went to court when local officials
denied him a permit for his laundry business. He came to the Supreme
Court of the United States. His case generated one of the most
important equal protection decisions ever written. It is a tribute to
our law und to our profession that a case involving a foreign national
gave meaning and scope to the equal protection rights of all
Americans. Our case law system is built on the idea that individuals
in any era can strive to vindicate personal rights, and that by their
effort our law emerges stronger than before.
In this process, lawyers know that
every battle does not bring victory. There will be defeats, but the
defeats will not break our will. In day-to-day debates on how to relate
the law to our civic discourse and our lasting traditions, we must
insist on rational principled judgment. By doing so we advance the
mission of a free people.
I hope that during this time in San
Francisco you will find new ideas, new insights, and new inspiration
for your work. Then our profession can help preserve the role of this
nation as the guardian of what Jefferson called the sacred fire of
freedom and self-government, keeping it in trust for other nations that
wish to share it. Thank you for being united in this historic cause.
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