Judging O’Connor: What it was like to clerk for justice

Because she always tried to be good, she was great

In the coming days, many will no doubt tout Sandra Day O’Connor as the pioneering first female Supreme Court justice. Most will point to her importance as the pivotal middle justice on a divided court. And some will accuse her of squandering her influence by not articulating and hewing to a unified theory of the law of their liking. In all this, the pundits may well be right in the description, but many will be wrong in ascribing merit or blame. Justice O’Connor is, quite simply, a great judge.

In 1995 I and my three co-clerks to O’Connor engaged in a heated discussion over some small point of law whose importance seemed transcendental at the time. This was the mother of all debates, several days of intense silences punctuated by heated discussions. The justice knew, of course, having carried awkward luncheon conversations and having interrupted several of our closed-door shouting matches. But she let us continue without intervention. The next morning, she handed us a two-page draft opinion: concisely crafted, beautifully written and articulating a clear answer based on her writings and intimations in previous cases. Each of us saw our conflicting points considered, answered or accommodated in her elegant draft. All that was left to do was to check the spelling, fill in the citations and go on with our coffee.

That example encapsulates O’Connor’s approach to her work. Without fanfare she hones her craft, deciding individual