A Constitutional Burden of Proof

There’s been a lot of discussion of a memo written by Samuel Alito, President Bush’s Supreme Court nominee, in which he stated “The constitution does not protect a right to abortion.” This sentence reminded me of language in Bowers v. Hardwick, since overruled, to the effect that the constitution does not protect a right to homosexual sodomy. Both statements are, of course, quite true. But both betray a growing—and troubling—conception of both government’s power and the purpose of the Bill of Rights.

There is, in fact, only one “right” protected by the Bill of Rights—the right to be free from government control over any of our behaviors or decisions, unless government has specifically been given the power to exercise such control. In other words, the citizen has no duty to find an affirmative right to engage in any particular activity; the burden of proof is on the government, which must demonstrate its authority to do whatever it is proposing to do.

Roe v. Wade is often said to have “legalized” abortion, but that is not an accurate description of the ruling, although the practical effect was the same. The Court said that the decision to abort or not prior to what used to be called “quickening” was one of many personal, “intimate” decisions that are none of the government’s business; that is, one of the many areas of our lives protected against the coercive power of the state. In Lawrence v. Texas, the case that overruled Hardwick, the Court said government simply lacks the authority to dictate the sexual conduct of consenting adults. 

If this seems like a quibble, it isn’t. We sometimes forget that the argument between the Federalists and anti-Federalists over the need for a Bill of Rights was never an argument about whether such rights should be protected. It was a debate between those who feared the future growth of state power and the “tyranny of the majority,” and thus wanted to “go on record” that certain government intrusions were off-limits, and those who argued that since the new government had only the powers specifically delegated to it, it simply had no authority to infringe individual liberties. They worried that efforts to list “protected” rights would allow people in future generations to argue that any rights not specifically listed were unprotected.

The Ninth and Tenth Amendments were the compromise: they reiterated that government does not have powers unless those powers have been specifically granted; and expressly stated that the failure to enumerate a right was not to be construed as evidence that such a right was not “retained” by the people or the individual states.    

Arguments that a “right to privacy” is not protected by the Constitution conveniently ignore the history and quite specific language of the Ninth and Tenth Amendments. That is why Judge Alito’s formulation concerns me.

I’m past worrying about the prospects for Roe—it won’t be overruled anyway. The Court will just keep limiting its reach until it is meaningless. I’m worried about a Supreme Court that begins each analysis by demanding to be shown where the rights in question are expressly protected. That isn’t the question. The question is: where is it written that government has been given the right to interfere? 

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Checks and Balances

Every high school government class begins with a lesson on “checks and balances.” We usually think of checks and balances as the three branches of government—executive, legislative and judicial—but there are other mechanisms, notably federalism and the Bill of Rights, that were intended to serve the same purpose.

 

Checks and balances grew out of the central preoccupation of those charged with creating a new government: limiting the exercise of government power. That concern was so overwhelming that it had undermined the first attempt to craft a federal system; the Articles of Confederation had so attenuated central power that the resulting government was too weak to be effective.

 

As James Madison memorably explained, dividing government into branches and levels having different responsibilities would set “faction against faction” and force deliberation and compromise. In the American system, the first question to be asked when the state proposes to act is: who decides? Is this a question that government has been empowered to get involved with in the first place? If so, which part of government?

 

With all the posturing and pontificating about “activist” courts, what we sometimes forget is that the judges are the ones who are supposed to say “no” when other parts of government overstep their authority—when the constitutional checks and balances are threatened. And efforts to extend government power beyond what our system permits are everywhere—and growing.

 

Here in Indiana, in the Executive Branch, the Governor has decided that he knows better than local school corporations what sorts of buildings they should build with their own local tax dollars.  In the legislature, Representative Pat Miller has introduced truly surreal legislation that would make criminals of women engaging in “unauthorized reproduction.” Women who want to become pregnant using artificial insemination, in vitro fertilization, or similar reproductive techniques would have to apply to the state for a permit, and only married women would be granted such a permit. (I am not making this up! What’s next, forced abortions for unmarried pregnant women?)      

 

At the federal level, we have a Congress that passed the Patriot Act without hearings (or even, in several cases, reading it), a Congress unwilling to check executive authority by insisting on its own prerogatives to declare war, or to meaningfully examine the qualifications of Presidential appointments. Our Imperial Presidency operates in virtual secrecy, crafting energy policy with favored lobbyists, detaining people without due process, and ignoring state laws with which it disagrees.  

 

Ultimately, this is the context within which we must analyze the President’s Supreme Court choices. While public debate has centered on nominees’ positions on abortion, or the politics of this or that nomination, it is much more likely that the real reason for choosing John Roberts and Harriet Miers had nothing to do with Roe v. Wade, or Presidential weakness, or gender politics. Whatever other beliefs either may hold, these are first and foremost individuals who favor reducing the constitutional checks on Presidential authority.

 

This isn’t about abortion—it’s about power.

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Civil Rights, Civil Liberties

Quick—what’s the difference between civil liberties and civil rights?

 

If you aren’t quite certain, you have a lot of company. The distinction is lost on most of my students, and—far more troubling—on a good number of city and state legislators.

 

Civil liberties are rights that individuals have against government. Citizens of the new United States refused to ratify the Constitution unless a Bill of Rights was added, specifically protecting them against official infringements of their “inalienable rights.” Among our civil liberties are the right to free expression, the right to worship (or not) as we choose, and the right to be free from unreasonable searches and seizures. After the civil war, the Fourteenth Amendment added the Equal Protection Clause, prohibiting government from treating equally situated citizens unequally. The Fourteenth Amendment also applied the provisions of the Bill of Rights to all levels of government—not just the federal government, as was originally the case, but also to state and local government agencies.

 

Only the government can violate your civil liberties.

 

Civil rights took a lot longer, and were a lot more controversial. It was 1964 before Congress passed the Civil Rights Act. Civil rights laws protect people against private acts of discrimination—discrimination in employment, in housing or education. The original Civil Rights Act applied to businesses engaged in interstate commerce—businesses that held themselves out to be “public accommodations” but were, shall we say, “selective” about which segments of the public they were willing to accommodate. State and local civil rights acts followed. Civil rights laws generally include a list of characteristics that cannot be used to favor some people over others: race, religion, gender, and so forth.

 

There was a lot of resistance to civil rights laws, and there is still a widespread, if covert, attitude of “What business does government have telling me I can’t discriminate?”  That resentment has redoubled as new groups have lobbied for protection.

 

The fiercest resistance has come from people opposed to extending civil rights to gays and lesbians. Those opponents have taken advantage of the widespread confusion of civil liberties with civil rights to argue that the Fourteenth Amendment already protects gays, so amending Indiana’s civil rights law, or Marion County’s Human Relations Ordinance is unnecessary. (After all, that’s easier than taking a public position that “those people” don’t deserve equal civil rights.)

 

I remember the astonishment of one of my African-American students when she realized that, in Indiana, people can be fired just because they are gay. “There is still a lot of discrimination against black people,” she said, “but at least there are laws on the books! They may not always work, but they’re something.”

 

A few months ago, the Indianapolis City-County Council failed to pass a measure that would have made discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation a violation of the City’s Human Relations Ordinance. Several of those voting against it said it was “unnecessary” because the Fourteenth Amendment already protected gays.

 

They knew better.

 

      

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Playing Well With Others

Didn’t Brian Bosma or John Hostetler ever play with other kids when they were young? Or have they just forgotten how to play well with others?
We are used to these “Righteous Brothers” whining whenever anyone objects to their efforts to use government to force their beliefs on everyone else. Tell them to stop bullying others, and you are accused of prejudice against “people of faith.” It reminds most parents of their three-year-old stamping his foot and insisting that if he can’t take that other kid’s candy, it isn’t fair.

Continue reading “Playing Well With Others”

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