I'm
one of those people who are reluctant to put words in someone else's
mouth. It's a real problem. Straw men are so much easier to knock
down than real ones, and they don't fight back. But my inclination
is to take people at their word.i
It's not always easy – not because I disagree with them but
because I don't always know what they said. So if I want to consider
and deal rationally with those words, I'm at a disadvantage.
There
was a time when I didn't care what their opinions were; I knew how
things should be even if they didn't. Their words were interesting,
but only from a historical point of view. I and my contemporaries
were as smart as they, and we could reach logical conclusions without
their help.
It
didn't take long to realize that many others held the same point of
view. The only problem was that different people had different
“logical conclusions” concerning the same sets of facts. The
situation was chaotic – even anarchic at times. Even when the
statements made by our founders seemed clear and reasonable, there
were many who ignored them because they knew better. When they
thought changes were needed they were quick to suggest them.ii
Even so, they seemed eager to concede that their ways might not be
the best for everyone. At least not for those from other cultures.
Right and wrong depended on the teachings of those cultures – they
were not absolute. That was my view when I was young.
But
as I grew older my thinking changed and it became clear to me that
some things were
absolute. And I knew what they were. Interestingly I found that
many of the truths which I knew to be valid were stated in the
Declaration of Independence, and in the context of that declaration
and the conditions it described the Constitution seemed, for the most
part, like an eminently sensible document. The “Founding Fathers”
were on to something, and the idea of radically changing it, whether
through legislation or the courts,iii
was both a denial of common sense and of our heritage. It's original
meaning, and their original intent, should, for the most part, hold
sway.
It
didn't take long, however, to recognize that we often lack
understanding of what that intent was.iv
Although some of the participants took notes and explained what they
had in mind, the keeping of records was discouraged, so our knowledge
is limited. It's clear, though, from the writings of the time,v
that the Constitution didn't mirror the intent of all the
participants; it was a compromise document. And some of the words
they used in the eighteenth century had different meanings then –
not the ones they have now. Additionally, perhaps some of the words
are misprints or other kinds of errors.vi
What
also governed their decisions were the conditions of the time: the
conditions they had endured under the English King.vii
That was the context which dictated their intent.viii
Thus
extensive reading and preparation were necessary to understand what
the intent was, but it was worth it. And a great appreciation of
their foresight resulted. It became clear that their debates
resulted in nuanced language and principles that could be applied to
most predictable conditions not just those existing at the time but
ones that would arise later to test our system. It was also apparent
that in some cases judicious – sometimes judicialix
but not always so – interpretation of our founding documents would
be necessary.x
And when such clarifications now emerge – whether through the
passage of new statutes or the (re)interpretation of old ones, they
are the law of the land. Moreover, the founders realized that there
would be a need for amendmentxi
of the original document and they provided for it. It's difficult
but possible.
Also
confusing the issue is the question of whether a particular view
expressed then related to a specific
problem faced at that time or whether its author saw it as a general
principle. How would he apply it, if at all, to a new but, at least
from our perspective, analogous situation? Does our extrapolation of
the principle faithfully reflect what he would have thought had he
lived now?
But
an important question remains: “So what?” That was then this is
now. Should we in the twenty-first century be bound by eighteenth
century thinking? Should we be bound by agreements to which we were
not signatories?
Fortunately,
however, those are easy questions. The answer is “Yes!” To both
of them. If we consider those documents and concepts erroneous we
should change them, difficult as that may be. But we should not
ignore them. Our society is based on the rule of law, and the
rulebook is an old one. We cannot flout our heritage because we
didn't make it, any more than we would refuse an inheritance because
we didn't earn it.
For
me, then, it is clear that the law is the law, and like it or notxii
we are bound by it. Given the opportunity, I would favor reliance on
the words of the founders to the extent possible, with interpretation
limited to unmistakable analogies unless we, the Founding Fathers of
our generation, decide otherwise by altering the document on which
our society is based.
Next
episode: “An
Offer You Can't Refuse”
– Try at your own risk.
PS. Tuesday, November 4th is election day. Don't forget to vote.
I In
this case my primary – but not exclusive – interest will be in
the words of our Founding Fathers. I'll be referring to them when I
don't specify otherwise.
ii In
some instances, however, they had a low tolerance for change. From
their perspective – and I am in full agreement – it was only
fair if they could pass on their property to their children when
they died. It might be reasonable to give public
funds to satisfy all sorts of
interests – whether the poor, the arts, snail darters, or whatever
– but not their
money. (They didn't realize that the “public funds” were
their money – money whose free distribution is something which,
from my perspective, needs to be rethought.)
iii Or
by Presidential decree.
iv The
same is true of Shakespeare and other literary figures. Often we
need explanatory notes if we are to understand what they meant. And
there are times when the expositor reads (his own) ideas into their
words, ideas that, in all likelihood, were never there, attributing
them to the author's unconscious, and praising their prescience.
v Expressing
ideas as disparate as the ones we have now.
vi That's
the explanation often used in rabbinical writings. Since there is a
general principle in Jewish law that the words of earlier
authorities cannot be changed, more recent expounders have to
“understand” their words in a way that might not be obvious.
They “correct” “erroneous texts” and interpret what their
predecessor “meant,” which may be very different from what he
said, or they describe unlikely scenarios or conditions that
circumscribe the effect of his ruling.
vii More
about the King and the Constitution in a future essay.
viii Our
current context is very different but that doesn't invalidate the
Constitution.
ix In
Marbury v. Madison the courts
arrogated to themselves the power of the last word in most cases
and, for better or worse, that action was not contested.
x The
same is true in other areas. For example, reading
religious texts without explanation and interpretation can be
difficult. While interpreters often disagree, their
discussions may unlock ideas whose presence will have been
unexpected. They might also surprise earlier authorities – but
that doesn't disqualify them. If those earlier authorities didn't
anticipate changed conditions that were in their future, they
wouldn't have guessed at the questions they might raise. We can
only hope that their wisdom provided enough guidance for us to
answer those questions while remaining true to their principles and
intent.
xi In
fact, the Bill of Rights – the first ten amendments – was a
precondition for ratification by many states.
xii And
there's much I don't like.
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