It’s hard to minimize the impact of Franklin Delano Roosevelt on American history. Love him or hate him, he towered over an era. He was elected president four times and served for 12 of our most tumultuous years. There are, of course, no shortage of books on FDR, whether focusing on his reaction to the Great Depression, the implementation of the New Deal, or his leadership in World War II.
Noah Feldman’s Scorpions takes a different approach. He focuses on an aspect of Roosevelt’s legacy that is less celebrated: his Supreme Court. Due to his years in office, FDR nominated an unprecedented 8 justices to the highest court in the land. Four of those men (Stanley Reed, Frank Murphy, James Byrnes, and Wiley Rutledge) are mostly forgotten today. Whatever their individual qualities (and Murphy, at least, deserves our praise for his gutsy dissent in the Japanese internment case), none of these jurists made a lasting impact.
The other four, however, can justly be numbered among the greatest to ever serve the Court. Hugo Black, Felix Frankfurter, Robert Jackson, and William Douglas not only participated in cases of enduring importance, they had unique judicial philosophies and powerful personalities that made an imprint on the Supreme Court that, in some instances is still felt today.
Scorpions undertakes two things. First, it is a quadruple biography of Black, Frankfurter, Jackson, and Douglas. Second, it provides a fast-paced narrative of the triumphs, trials, and tribulations of the Roosevelt Court. It succeeds on both fronts.
Feldman has chosen his subject well. Black, Frankfurter, Jackson, and Douglas are characters. All four were picked by the same president. That president undoubtedly thought they shared his legal viewpoints. As it turned out, however, it is hard to imagine more wildly different jurists.
Hugo Black was a senator from Alabama with a rudimentary education and an expired membership in the Ku Klux Klan. A liberal, he nevertheless is credited as among the first to take a textualist (or originalist) approach to the Constitution. He used this textualism to advance both free speech and civil rights, and eventually joined the opinion in Brown v. Board of Education. (Scorpions concludes with Brown, arguing – a bit unconvincingly – that the decision belonged to the Roosevelt Court, rather than Earl Warren).
Felix Frankfurter reputedly had the highest grades ever at Harvard Law. A New Deal liberal espousing judicial restraint, he began his career bemoaning decades of conservative jurisprudence that struck down legislative enactments that protected workers. He left the Court, though, as one of its staunchest conservatives.
Robert Jackson was a country lawyer who never went to law school. He rose to be solicitor general, attorney general, Supreme Court justice, and prosecutor at the Nuremberg Tribunal. His pragmatic approach to constitutional law lives on today in cases that touch international law and the War Powers.
Finally, William Douglas was an eccentric and ambitious politician who kept seeing his dreams for high office demolished. When he finally accepted his role on the Court, he became a leading proponent of the “living” constitution, and wrote opinions that expanded the protection of individual liberty.
(Passing aside: Neither Black nor Jackson had a formal legal education, which seems incredible today. In today’s Supreme Court, educational diversity occurs when someone from Columbia gets appointed. Otherwise, it’s all Harvard or Yale. Stop by the bar – by which I mean saloon – someday and I’ll tell you why I think this is a problem).
Feldman is a law professor at Harvard, which might give you pause. But it’s important to note that he’s not writing to impress his buddies on the faculty. This is a popular history, with a premium on anecdote, and prose that is blessedly free of legal jargon and Latin phrases. He writes in a transparent vein, explaining concepts in a way that is clear, without being condescendingly simplified. As a lawyer myself, I thought he struck a good balance between sophistication and clarity. He gives you the broad contours, without needlessly leading the lay reader into legal thickets that are better left to peer-reviewed journals.
The first part of Scorpions is a little tricky, just because Feldman has the near impossible task of juggling the lives of four different men in four different timelines. It can get a bit confusing at times, because we keep jumping back and forth in terms of chronology. This makes it difficult to keep straight who is on the Supreme Court at a given moment. Still, there is much of value, especially in Feldman’s lucid retelling of Roosevelt’s “court-packing” scheme, and Justice Owen Roberts’ maligned “switch in time that saved nine.”
This issue disappears as soon as all four are robed and seated and the narrative can really click into gear. Feldman covers the great cases, describes the give-and-take process that produces a Supreme Court opinion, expounds on the justices’ competing judicial philosophies, and – of course, based on the title – describes in exceptional detail how they all sort of hated each others’ existences.
The Roosevelt Court was instrumental in preserving the New Deal in its rulings on interstate commerce. But don’t fret. This isn’t the kind of book that dwells on the Commerce Clause (I would never do that to you). Instead, Feldman focuses on the cases that resonate today. We’re talking about German saboteurs caught on a Jersey Beach and executed after a military tribunal (Ex Parte Quirin); and the Japanese man who defied the government’s order to report to a concentration camp (Korematsu v. United States); and the conviction of Communists for teaching Marxist texts (Dennis v. United States). Not all of these opinions did credit to the Court, or the men who wrote them. Indeed, I view many of them in the opposite light. Regardless, Feldman does an excellent job explaining how the justices’ competing ideologies (and temperaments) shaped these decisions, with echoes into the future. (In a lot of these cases, it is a concurrence or dissent that actually lived on, rather than the original holding).
I had some issues with Scorpions. It tries to fit way too much material into too few pages (my small trade paperback edition is only 433 pages of text). The result is that some subjects get short shrift, while certain storylines are oddly truncated.
This is especially apparent in the treatment of the International Military Tribunal at Nuremberg. Feldman, who is pretty objective in his handling of competing judicial dogmas, is strangely vehement in his criticism of Nuremberg. He expounds on his belief that the Tribunal lacked precedential authority, and was nothing more than a sham. Accordingly, he is unrelentingly harsh in his critique of Jackson’s performance at Nuremberg, especially his failed cross examination of Herman Goering. Incidentally, the notion that Goering dominated Jackson in a show of intellectual dominance is a view shared by David Irving, which probably should’ve given Feldman pause. In truth, Jackson made tactical errors, but Goering was also given tremendous leeway to make speeches, since the judges (despite Feldman’s assertion this was a show trial) went out of their way to give the Nazi thug – in Jackson’s own words – “the trial he never gave a living soul, or dead one either.”
(Not to keep beating a dead horse...Well, in fact, to keep beating a dead horse, Jackson was entirely correct in how he wasn’t allowed to cross examine effectively. In cross, you are supposed to control the answers. That’s the point! Read Wigmore! Feldman doesn’t seem to recognize this. He is certainly an accomplished legal mind with a bio filled with important appointments and clerkships. But I can't tell if he's ever been in a working courtroom. Maybe this reality eluded him? I sometimes think it's helpful when professors work in the real world before they start professing. Theory with practice is better than theory alone. This isn't meant to be snark; I just feel like he's missing some of what it means to be a workaday attorney, caught up in the fray rather than pondering in the ivory tower).
In any event, after leaving us with Jackson’s embarrassment, Feldman drops Nuremberg and never returns to the subject. There isn’t a single line about Jackson’s famous closing argument, or an acknowledgment that three of the defendants were acquitted (so much for this being a sham). And really, if you are going to dismiss the Nuremberg Tribunal, at least provide a counterfactual. If not a trial, then what? We shoot them all, like Stalin wanted? Or do we just let them go, so that Goering could run for office, and Kaltenbrunner could be a police chief in some Austrian village? Okay – sorry, I got a little worked up. I’ll get off my high horse now. Well, one more thing. I studied the IMT extensively in law school and beyond, and in the end, I strongly agree with Jackson that giving the Nazis the benefit of a criminal trial was indeed “one of the most significant tributes that Power has ever paid to Reason.”
That aside – and this quibble clearly has more to do with me than Feldman – this is an excellent read. You learn about four fascinating judges. You learn about constitutional theory, and how it has evolved over time (conservatives started out as activists; liberals originally called for restraint; now things have flipped). More entertainingly, though, you get to watch these four men, who had all reached the peak of their professional attainment, acting like petty children in their interpersonal relationships.
The lesson, I suppose, is that you can never get too old, too smart, or too successful, to nurse a lingering grudge all the way to the grave.