Ruth Bader Ginsburg helped shape the modern era of women’s rights – even before she went on the Supreme Court

https://theconversation.com/ruth-bader-ginsburg-helped-shape-the-modern-era-of-womens-rights-even-before-she-went-on-the-supreme-court-95705?utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Latest%20from%20The%20Conversation%20for%20September%2018%202020%20-%201736916802&utm_content=Latest%20from%20The%20Conversation%20for%20September%2018%202020%20-%201736916802+Version+A+CID_e457010c9229c8655a12000ef21183e1&utm_source=campaign_monitor_us&utm_term=Ruth%20Bader%20Ginsburg%20helped%20shape%20the%20modern%20era%20of%20womens%20rights%20%20even%20before%20she%20went%20on%20the%20Supreme%20Court

Ruth Bader Ginsburg helped shape modern era of women's rights

Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg died on Friday, the Supreme Court announced.

Chief Justice John Roberts said in a statement that “Our nation has lost a jurist of historic stature.”

Even before her appointment, she had reshaped American law. When he nominated Ginsburg to the Supreme Court, President Bill Clinton compared her legal work on behalf of women to the epochal work of Thurgood Marshall on behalf of African-Americans.

The comparison was entirely appropriate: As Marshall oversaw the legal strategy that culminated in Brown v. Board of Education, the 1954 case that outlawed segregated schools, Ginsburg coordinated a similar effort against sex discrimination.

Decades before she joined the court, Ginsburg’s work as an attorney in the 1970s fundamentally changed the Supreme Court’s approach to women’s rights, and the modern skepticism about sex-based policies stems in no small way from her lawyering. Ginsburg’s work helped to change the way we all think about women – and men, for that matter.

I’m a legal scholar who studies social reform movements and I served as a law clerk to Ginsburg when she was an appeals court judge. In my opinion – as remarkable as Marshall’s work on behalf of African-Americans was – in some ways Ginsburg faced more daunting prospects when she started.

Starting at zero

When Marshall began challenging segregation in the 1930s, the Supreme Court had rejected some forms of racial discrimination even though it had upheld segregation.

When Ginsburg started her work in the 1960s, the Supreme Court had never invalidated any type of sex-based rule. Worse, it had rejected every challenge to laws that treated women worse than men.

For instance, in 1873, the court allowed Illinois authorities to ban Myra Bradwell from becoming a lawyer because she was a woman. Justice Joseph P. Bradley, widely viewed as a progressive, wrote that women were too fragile to be lawyers: “The paramount destiny and mission of woman are to fulfil the noble and benign offices of wife and mother. This is the law of the Creator.”

And in 1908, the court upheld an Oregon law that limited the number of hours that women – but not men – could work. The opinion relied heavily on a famous brief submitted by Louis Brandeis to support the notion that women needed protection to avoid harming their reproductive function.

As late as 1961, the court upheld a Florida law that for all practical purposes kept women from serving on juries because they were “the center of the home and family life” and therefore need not incur the burden of jury service.

Challenging paternalistic notions

Ginsburg followed Marshall’s approach to promote women’s rights – despite some important differences between segregation and gender discrimination.

Segregation rested on the racist notion that Black people were less than fully human and deserved to be treated like animals. Gender discrimination reflected paternalistic notions of female frailty. Those notions placed women on a pedestal – but also denied them opportunities.

Either way, though, Black Americans and women got the short end of the stick.

Ginsburg started with a seemingly inconsequential case. Reed v. Reed challenged an Idaho law requiring probate courts to appoint men to administer estates, even if there were a qualified woman who could perform that task.

Sally and Cecil Reed, the long-divorced parents of a teenage son who committed suicide while in his father’s custody, both applied to administer the boy’s tiny estate.

The probate judge appointed the father as required by state law. Sally Reed appealed the case all the way to the Supreme Court.

Ginsburg did not argue the case, but wrote the brief that persuaded a unanimous court in 1971 to invalidate the state’s preference for males. As the court’s decision stated, that preference was “the very kind of arbitrary legislative choice forbidden by the Equal Protection Clause of the 14th Amendment.”

Two years later, Ginsburg won in her first appearance before the Supreme Court. She appeared on behalf of Air Force Lt. Sharron Frontiero. Frontiero was required by federal law to prove that her husband, Joseph, was dependent on her for at least half his economic support in order to qualify for housing, medical and dental benefits.

If Joseph Frontiero had been the soldier, the couple would have automatically qualified for those benefits. Ginsburg argued that sex-based classifications such as the one Sharron Frontiero challenged should be treated the same as the now-discredited race-based policies.

By an 8–1 vote, the court in Frontiero v. Richardson agreed that this sex-based rule was unconstitutional. But the justices could not agree on the legal test to use for evaluating the constitutionality of sex-based policies.

Strategy: Represent men

In 1974, Ginsburg suffered her only loss in the Supreme Court, in a case that she entered at the last minute.

Mel Kahn, a Florida widower, asked for the property tax exemption that state law allowed only to widows. The Florida courts ruled against him.

Ginsburg, working with the national ACLU, stepped in after the local affiliate brought the case to the Supreme Court. But a closely divided court upheld the exemption as compensation for women who had suffered economic discrimination over the years.

Despite the unfavorable result, the Kahn case showed an important aspect of Ginsburg’s approach: her willingness to work on behalf of men challenging gender discrimination. She reasoned that rigid attitudes about sex roles could harm everyone and that the all-male Supreme Court might more easily get the point in cases involving male plaintiffs.

She turned out to be correct, just not in the Kahn case.

Ginsburg represented widower Stephen Wiesenfeld in challenging a Social Security Act provision that provided parental benefits only to widows with minor children.

Wiesenfeld’s wife had died in childbirth, so he was denied benefits even though he faced all of the challenges of single parenthood that a mother would have faced. The Supreme Court gave Wiesenfeld and Ginsburg a win in 1975, unanimously ruling that sex-based distinction unconstitutional.

And two years later, Ginsburg successfully represented Leon Goldfarb in his challenge to another sex-based provision of the Social Security Act: Widows automatically received survivor’s benefits on the death of their husbands. But widowers could receive such benefits only if the men could prove that they were financially dependent on their wives’ earnings.

Ginsburg also wrote an influential brief in Craig v. Boren, the 1976 case that established the current standard for evaluating the constitutionality of sex-based laws.

Like Wiesenfeld and Goldfarb, the challengers in the Craig case were men. Their claim seemed trivial: They objected to an Oklahoma law that allowed women to buy low-alcohol beer at age 18 but required men to be 21 to buy the same product.

But this deceptively simple case illustrated the vices of sex stereotypes: Aggressive men (and boys) drink and drive, women (and girls) are demure passengers. And those stereotypes affected everyone’s behavior, including the enforcement decisions of police officers.

Under the standard delineated by the justices in the Boren case, such a law can be justified only if it is substantially related to an important governmental interest.

Among the few laws that satisfied this test was a California law that punished sex with an underage female but not with an underage male as a way to reduce the risk of teen pregnancy.

These are only some of the Supreme Court cases in which Ginsburg played a prominent part as a lawyer. She handled many lower-court cases as well. She had plenty of help along the way, but everyone recognized her as the key strategist.

In the century before Ginsburg won the Reed case, the Supreme Court never met a gender classification that it didn’t like. Since then, sex-based policies usually have been struck down.

I believe President Clinton was absolutely right in comparing Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s efforts to those of Thurgood Marshall, and in appointing her to the Supreme Court.

 

 

 

 

Saving Thomas Jefferson’s soul

https://www.washingtonpost.com/history/2019/07/03/saving-thomas-jeffersons-soul/?fbclid=IwAR20Yp3YntVqipx8IN2Q7F3sd8TSZFeAcf7vBGdj-8UW-CHhwOjbT8AXE5c&utm_term=.34e27bf5b4c0

In a long letter, a mariner-turned-minister worried about Jefferson’s salvation. The founding father’s response was remarkable.

One midnight in the spring of 1814, Miles King, a pious former sea captain in Mathews, Va., woke up thinking about Thomas Jefferson’s soul.

When it happened again a month later, King took it as a sign. So he put quill to parchment and wrote a letter to the former president, who had retired to Monticello, his estate in Virginia.

In the grip of what he considered divine inspiration, King let it rip. His letter is something like 8,000 words — equivalent to about 32 typed pages. But the basic message is simple: All your accomplishments mean nothing if you don’t adopt Christian zeal before you die.

Miraculously, Jefferson responded. His reply is the calm, respectful rebuttal most people only dream of writing to a critic. Jefferson also offered a sincere and moving declaration of freedom of thought. As a slave owner, he may not have lived his ideals. But almost four decades after writing the Declaration of Independence, Jefferson could set out the words of liberty in ways that few can match and that continue to inspire.

With all the correspondence that swamped Jefferson, it must have taken great patience to wade through King’s stream of consciousness, which unfolds in loops of exhortations and references to Scripture.

But buried in there is the hint of a fascinating tale. King says he was “brought up to the Sea,” commanding a trading vessel to Europe from an early age. He spent a couple of years in the Navy during the John Adams administration, then resumed being a prosperous sea captain. He “was much disposed to a luxurious life of debauch and intrigue,” he writes. “I lived a life of pleasure and gaiety, with now and then a hair Breadth escape from death, either by shipwreck or other casualty.” He hosted parties and weekly card games and generally caroused with a bunch of other rich sots.

You’d like to hear more about that guy. But after his second wife died, he married a wealthy widow who eventually prevailed on him to go to church. There, King learned the error of his ways. He renounced his old life and became a Methodist minister.

He viewed the world darkly. The new nation had wandered from God, as evidenced by the latest clash with Great Britain. “Our impiety hath provoked this war upon us,” King wrote. Judgment Day is coming soon, he warned, and the people need pious leaders to show them the path to righteousness.

“It is not sufficient that our rulers & private worthies . . . merely tolerate religion: they must themselves become religious — thier Light must shine to the Glory of God!” he wrote.

King had a high opinion of Jefferson, of course, but other people were saying some troubling things about the great man.

“I had often heard you indignantly called, deist, infidel, illuminati &c &c,” King wrote. Surely, Jefferson did not want to be lumped in with “horrid” figures such as Voltaire and other free thinkers who questioned the value of central religion? Their writings had “poisoned the minds & proved fatally ruinous to many.”

There can be no neutrality on religion, King argued — and he quoted the gospel of Matthew to say that whoever is not for it is against it. “Does this quotation,” he asked Jefferson, “not rub you pretty close Sir?”

With the earthly world soon ending, he beseeched Jefferson not to be satisfied with rational thought and simple faith in the divine — what King called “head religion.” “Never rest untill you feel it in the heart! Influencing all Your words and actions & regulating the thoughts of your heart!” Saying he had heard that Jefferson was reading the prophecy of Isaiah, he quoted another Bible verse to ask, “Understandest thou what thou readest therein?”

He closed with the wish that he would one day meet Jefferson in the “Kingdom of Everlasting Glory.”

Jefferson wrote back a little more than a month later. He thanked King for his letter “because I believe it was written with kind intentions, and a personal concern for my future happiness.”

As for whether King’s revelations were directly from God, “your reason alone is the competent judge.” Human reasoning “is the only oracle which god has given us to determine between what really comes from him, & the phantasms of a disordered or deluded imagination,” Jefferson wrote. (On social media he might have added: “Just sayin’.”)

With lawyerly guile, Jefferson said that if God wanted to give him a direct communication, he would “obey it with the same fidelity with which I would obey his known will in all cases.”

Until then, he wrote, humans may use the power of reason gifted to them by God to figure things out for themselves. Sometimes that means making a mistake, he added. But in that case, he said, “I have trust in him who made us what we are, and knows it was not his plan to make us always unerring.”

God is too far above humans to take pleasure or pain from their actions, he explained. Instead, the purpose of human morality is to guide people in their treatment of others: “by acting honestly towards all, benevolently to those who fall within our way, respecting sacredly their rights bodily and mental, and cherishing especially their freedom of conscience, as we value our own.”

Jefferson’s failure to live by those words on the crucial matter of enslavement is something that history — if not his maker — must judge him for. But his vision of personal rights and intellectual liberty remain central to the country’s founding principles. In this letter, Jefferson put those revolutionary concepts on a personal scale. It’s good advice, and just as provocative today as it must have been 200 years ago.

Religious beliefs, he told King, “are a subject of accountability to our god alone. I enquire after no man’s, and trouble none with mine.”

He argued that humans have no way to know which type of religion is “exactly the right.” In heaven, he said, there are no denominations — “not a quaker or a baptist, a presbyterian or an episcopalian, a catholic or a protestant.”

“Let us not be uneasy then,” he wrote, “about the different roads we may pursue, as believing them the shortest, to that our last abode: but, following the guidance of a good conscience, let us be happy in the hope that, by these different paths, we shall all meet in the end.”

He closed with a salute of “brotherly esteem and respect.”

King apparently didn’t write Jefferson again.

Two years later, King sent a similar — and only slightly shorter — entreaty to another of the founders, James Madison.

Madison’s reply was brief. He thanked King for his concern, but said that letters on religious subjects “have been so numerous and of characters so various, that it has been an established rule to decline all correspondence on them.”

Thank God that Jefferson had a different policy.