Tuesday, September 22, 2020

Ruth Bader Ginsburg and the Double Edge Sword of Equality


     I'm a little late getting to this, but as a decently informed Supreme Court enthusiast, I needed to throw out my two cents to discuss what I think is the legacy of Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

     It is only lately that I have come to appreciate the jurisprudence of Ginsburg. In fact, I can point to a specific Supreme Court decision that made me more appreciative of her work and thought. That decision was the 2017 decision in Sessions v. Morales-Santana. This was an extremely technical case regarding sex equality. Ruth Bader Ginsburg wrote the opinion, and it was beautiful for being able to navigate the principles of equality on one hand and the cold hard force of legal reasoning on the other.

     The law in question was rather obscure. At least, I never even thought about a law like this prior to reading about this case. If you are a U.S. citizen who has lived in the mainland United States all your life, you've never had to think about this law because it doesn't apply to you. But if you are an unmarried U.S. citizen who has a child outside of marriage and outside the United States, then you probably want to know if your child is a U.S. citizen or not. And that's exactly the law in question. What criteria must an unmarried U.S. citizen meet in order to qualify for conferring citizenship upon his or her offspring? And here's where the issue of equality comes in.

     The law used to have two different standards for conferring citizenship. The law allowed a female U.S. citizen having a child outside of marriage and outside the United States to confer citizenship upon her offspring if she could show that she had lived in the United Stated for at least one full year. On the other hand, in order for a male U.S. citizen to confer citizenship upon his offspring born outside of marriage and outside the United States, he needed to show he had lived in the United Stated for at least ten years if the child was born prior to November 14, 1986 and five years if the child was born born after this date. (OK, I'm simplifying here. There's more to these laws than this, but this isn't a legal blog, so I ain't doing more.)

     Can you say double standard? I knew you could. Yes, this law clearly and unmistakably treated men and women with two grossly different standards. And this isn't some old relic. This is a law that was still in practice and determining people's citizenship status as late as 2017. 

     Luis Ramon Morales-Santana was a non-citizen under this law. He was born in the Dominican Republic in 1962 to a Dominican mother and a Puerto Rican (read: U.S. citizen) father. His father, Jose Morales, had failed to meet the necessary residency requirements needed to impart citizenship upon his son by, get this, 20 days. Had Jose Morales lived in Puerto Rico for a mere 20 more days, he would have conferred citizenship upon Luis Ramon.

     Luis Ramon Morales-Santana made some bad life decisions and ended up in jail. As a non-citizen, he was subject to deportation. He argued, however, that the law preventing him from being a U.S. citizen violated the equal rights amendment. If his father had been a woman, then his father would have met the necessary requirements for conferring citizenship. But for his father's biological sex, Luis Ramon would be a U.S. citizen. This sexist law needed to changed, Mr. Morales-Santana needed to be granted citizenship, and deportation needed to be taken off the table.

     Ginsburg wrote the opinion, joined by five other justices. In it, she called out this law for what it was, a violation of equal protections under the law. But here's where the case gets interesting and where Ginsburg performed a completely unexpected move. Morales-Santana had assumed that if the law were found unconstitutional, he would received citizenship. But this didn't happen. Correcting the law to remove the unequal protection could be done one of two ways. The law for men could be made more lenient (in which case Morales-Santana would be a U.S. citizen) or the law for women could be made more strict. The Supreme Court did the latter, and with good reason. 

     If the court had changed the residency requirements for unmarried male citizens to conform to the less stringent requirements that applied to unmarried female citizens, this would have the unfortunate consequence of making it easier for unmarried individuals to confer citizenship than if they were married. Such an outcome would be completely unacceptable for the court to permit, as this would violate congress's intentions while at the same time creating its own unjustified inequality which itself would likely not withstand scrutiny. Faced with these facts, there was only one course of action. The standard for men was to remain the same, and the exception that was created for women was deemed unconstitutional. 

     This ruling was a pyrrhic victory for progressives. They won a battle for equal rights, but it ended up costing them in more stringent citizenship requirements. One progressive website (thinkprogress.org) ran an article entitled "The Supreme Court just made our ugly, messed up immigration law even uglier." This was followed by the subtitle, "Sometimes equality cuts against justice." Mr. Morales-Santana himself was, at the end of the day, never granted citizenship. I have not followed up on his deportation status.

     Yes, equality does cut both ways. And in this case, it's difficult to see what other course of action there was. This opinion written by Ginsburg seems to me to be spot on. "Equality under the law" is great. But whereas many people hearing this phrase focus on equality, it is important to note that the law part can't just go away. When Solomon went to split the baby, sure, that was an exercise in equality, but it was also an exercise in the force of his legal powers. This opinion written by Ginsburg, in my humble opinion, strikes the perfect balance between equality and law. It removed the inequality, but it didn't reach a pie-in-the-sky resolution. It did the hard work of navigating the legal landscape and reaching a sound resolution, even if not ideal. 

     Learning about this court case greatly increased my appreciation for Ruth Bader Ginsburg's jurisprudence. When I read her opinions now, I am much more open to seeing her legal logic and reasoning. Ginsburg is often painted as an extreme leftist, as a justice who allowed her ideology to dictate her decisions. But I do not think this is a fair portrayal. She fought for equality. In fact that was her primary fight. But she allowed the double edge sword of equality to cut both ways. That is a quality that many saw in her, which I myself have only recently come around to seeing. 

     I will continue following the court and the legacy left by Ruth Bader Ginsburg. 

Sunday, September 13, 2020

On Knowing What You Want

     (Picture of Sunrise from my morning walk, Sunday Sept. 13, 2020)


     I know what it is I would like to do, but I just don't feel like doing it. Can you relate?

     For the past two months or so--honestly, it could be three months; I've lost track of time--I have been getting up each morning and going for a walk. I've been walking anywhere from 2 to 6 miles every morning, and I love it. I have always really enjoyed walking. Yet, for the past ten years of my life, I forgot that I enjoyed walking so much. It was always work. It was always a hassle. And it was always the last thing I felt like doing.

     Back in college, I can literally say I walked 2 miles to school, one way. (Actually, I looked up my walking routes. My usual walking route was about 2.3 miles, and the short route I took when pressed for time was just over 1.5 miles.) I used my walks as times of prayer and reflection. It was also a great way to wake up in the morning and be ready for my music theory class. On my way home, I'd frequently be reflecting on my philosophy texts I had been reading during the day. I'd had many philosophical, personal, and spiritual epiphanies on my walks.

     And then, I got married, had kids, and (regrettably) moved out to a country road that was not amenable to walking at all. Walks became something I had to drive to, which defeats the whole purpose. Over time, I just lost my desire to walk, or even the memory that I really loved walking. 

     Let me pause here and talk about my candy corn problem. I know, this is a sudden jump, but it will all make sense, I promise. 

     I hate candy corn. It is the worst of all candies. It tastes like unicorn barf, sweet and sugary, but gross and disgusting at the same time. Yet, as Halloween approaches, and the shelves fill with this revolting treat, I know that I am likely to, at some point, buy a bag of candy corn. It's a habit. I used to love candy corn as a kid, and the thought of candy corn puts me into a state of nostalgia. The 7 year old me would die for some candy corn. And so, just about every Halloween, I buy one bag of candy corn to resurrect that nostalgia and feed my inner child. And every year, I begin to eat it, gag, and throw the bag away. I don't even save it for my kids. I'm repulsed at the idea that they might like it. Straight into the garbage it goes.

     My point about candy corn, and walking, is this: sometimes, what you feel like doing is not the thing you know you'll enjoy. And sometimes, the things you know you'll enjoy are not the things you'll feel like doing. Every year, I feel like eating candy corn, even though I know I will not enjoy it. The reverse is true for walking. 

     When it comes to walking, I made the mistake of letting my feelings control my actions. As life got busy, as circumstances made walking more difficult, my immediate feelings towards walking were, "Ugh, that's so much work." In reality, however, what I was really doing was making an excuse for not doing what I loved. 

     In the Bible, St. Paul presents the paradox of being prone to doing that which he does not want to do, while also not doing that which he wants to do. (See Romans 7:15-20) When Christians discuss this passage, St. Paul is often understood to be talking about sin or our tendency to sin. It is often surrounded in theological terms, like concupiscence. But I think that reading is a little simplistic, even if overly theological. This experience is not vague and abstract, the way we tend to be when we talk about sin. St. Paul is not saying, "I want to be a good person, but I do bad things." That's too general to mean anything. No, what St. Paul is really talking about is, "I don't want candy corn, but I buy it anyway," and "I really enjoy walking, but I don't feel like making time for it."

     In ancient Greece, there was a maxim associated with the Oracle at Delphi. "Know thyself." I am trying to follow this advice more an more. Sometimes, knowing yourself means knowing what you will enjoy doing and not merely what you feel like doing. I know I will enjoy the walk, even if I don't feel like walking. I know I'll enjoy a trip to the museum, even if I feel like lying in bed all day. I know it will be refreshing to read a book with a hot chocolate, even if I feel like watching cat videos on YouTube. 

     You see, distinguishing between your feelings on one hand and your actual honest to goodness likes and dislikes on the other is essential to living a happy life. There is a quote attributed to Benjamin Disraeli (though I cannot find the original) which I really like. It is this: You may do what you please, provided it really pleases you. (Paraphrased in "The Intellectual Life," by A.G. Sertillanges.) To me, this statement rings so very true. 

     Live the life you enjoy, not the life that you feel like living.