law and conflict resolution || conflict and its resolution in the supreme court
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Conflict and Its Resolution in the Supreme CourtAuthor(s): David J. DanelskiSource: The Journal of Conflict Resolution, Vol. 11, No. 1, Law and Conflict Resolution (Mar.,1967), pp. 71-86Published by: Sage Publications, Inc.Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/172932 .
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source of primary data: hundreds of thou- sands
of
documents in the private papers
of
former
justices--conference
notes,
intra-
court communications, draft opinions, slip opinions with comments on them, memo- randa, memoirs, and so forth. Those are the data underlying the present study. Although this inquiry is to a
large
extent exploratory, it attempts nonetheless
to
be rigorous by defining
key
concepts opera- tionally and presenting evidence in support of hypotheses where
it
is available. Yet it would be a mistake
to
view this study as more than a tentative presentation
of
con- cepts and hypotheses that may be useful
in
future research concerning conflict and
its
resolution
in
the Supreme Court ..... The discussion that follows begins with a consideration
of thepositive and
negative consequences
of
conflict in the Court. Then conflict
resolution
is considered in terms
of
concepts useful in explaining judicial
deci- sion-making-namely,
values, role, leader- ship, and personality, in that order, The order
of
presentation is important to the discussion,
but it
does not necessarily indi- cate the relative importance
of
the concepts
in
understanding conflict
and
its resolution in the Court.
Intracourt
Conflict Conflict
in
the Court can be identified as "We
are
very quiet there," Justice Holmes once said
of
the Supreme Court,
"but
it is the quiet
of
a storm centre, as we all know" (1920,
p. 292).
The metaphor is apt,
for
throughout American history important po- litical disputes have
moved
centripetally to the Court
for
authoritative settlement. Since
decision-making in
the Court takes place behind closed doors, it appears to be quiet, and compared to other kinds
of
political
decision-making,
it
is.
But that is
not
to say it is free
of
conflict. On the contrary, conflict characterizes the Court because it is a microcosm generating its
own
systemic conflicts
while
attempting to settle disputes brought before it. Behavior
of
Supreme Court justices indi- cating conflict
and its
resolution constitutes a significant sector
of
activity
we call law
in action; thus it is surprising that the
subject
has received little scholarly attention. The main reason
for
this, apparently, is that only a
few
persons are in
a
position directly to observe decision-making in the
Court--the
justices themselves and to some extent their
law
clerks and a
few others--and
they are not inclined
to
write about
it, at
least
not
systematically. There is, however, another
I
should
like
to express
my
gratitude to Walter F. Murphy
of
Princeton University
for
having read and commented on an earlier draft
of
this article. Conflict and its resolution in the Supreme Court DAVID J.
DANELSKI
Department
of
Political Science, Yale
University
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(1)
overt and public,
(2)
overt and non- public, and
(3)
covert. Overt public
con- flict
is disagreement manifested usually in officially reported
votes
and
in
dissenting and concurring opinions,
but it
may
be
manifested in
other ways--e.g.,
the remarks of
justices
in open court. Overt nonpublic
conflict
is disagreement manifested within the
Court--e.g.,
the expression of divergent views in conference. If
such
conflict
is
neither resolved nor suppressed,
it
usually becomes public. Covert
conflict
is disagree-
ment not
directly expressed in
the Court's
decisional process. Often
it
is expressed in
justices'
intimate correspondence with mem- bers
of
their families or
close
friends. Overt public
conflict
has both positive
and
negative consequences
for
dispute
set-
tlement. The dissenting opinion has been said to
be
useful because it appeals
"to the
intelligence
of
a future day" (Hughes, 1928, p.
68),
thereby shaping and altering
the
course
of the law; it
assures counsel and
the
public that
decision'making
is
not
perfunc-
tory;: and it
"sounds a warning note that legal doctrine must not
be
pressed
too
far"
(Stone,
1942, p.
519).
At times
it
also gives hope
of
eventual victory
to losing litigants
and
the
interests
they ~represent,
thus mak-
ing
their defeat temporarily acceptable. On
the
other hand, dissents sometimes aggra- vate disputes
in
society. A dissenting opin- ion may
be at once
a symbol and a source
of
arguments
for
those who oppose a Court
decisiom2
On occasion, also, dissenters have
2
For example'
the Vh'ginia
Commission on Constitutional
Government--an
official agency
of the
Commonwealth
of Virginia--recently
reprinted Justice
Harlan's
dissenting opinion
in the
Supreme
Court's
obscenity decision
con-
cerning
John Cleland's
Memoirs
of
a Woman
of
Pleasure. The following is on
the cover of
the
Commission's
booklet: SEX THE SUPREME COURT
72
DAVID
J. DANELSKI
forced the majority to take up highly dis- puted issues that would not have otherwise been considered in the
Court's
opinion (Jackson, 1955, p. 19). That occurred in the Dred
Scott
Case (see Warren, 1926, II, 293- 95). But, according to many judges, the main negative consequence
of overt
public conflict
is the
undermining
of
popular confidence in the Court's authority. Judge Learned
Hand put
it this way: "Disunity cancels the impact of
monolithicsolidarity
on which the authority
of
a bench
of
judges so largely depends" (1958, p. 72). That has been a basic hypothesis underlying in- tracourt conflict resolution
all
through his- tory. Public expression
of
disagreement also has positive and negative consequences
fox'
conflict resolution within the Court. Justice Douglas has said that "the right to dissent
is the
only thing that makes life tolerable
for
a
judge
of an
appelIate
court" (1960, p. 4). Often, after having dissented, Justice
Stone
used to say: "One has to live with himself." Presumably expression
of
dissent also made
it
easier for him to
live
(and let live) with his
colleagues.a
Corn- AND THE STATES THE SUPREME COURT DEALS WITH DIRT. WHAT IT IS
:..
AND WHO
IS
TO
SAY
WHAT IT IS Mr.JUSTICE HARLAN dissents
in
the case of Fanny Hill
a
There is little doubt that public expression of dissent has cathartic value, and apparently this conclusion applies to courts in other parts of the world. A current study
of
the German Federal Constitutional Court by Donald
P.
Kommers will shed some light on this matter in Germany. For a discussion
of
attitudes toward dissent in German courts, See Weyrauch (1964,
pp. 220-21
). The positive consequences of public expression of dissent
go
beyond catharsis. For example, a former
chief
:justice of
the
Supreme Court
of
Japan told me in an
CONFLICT
RESOLUTION
VOLUI~IE XI NUiNIBER 1
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73 CONFLICT RESOLUTION IN THE SUPREME COURT
mcnts
in newspapers,
law
reviews, and bar journals praising specific dissenting or
con- curring
opinions go a long way in
healbig
egos bruised in
intracourt
conflict. The same is true of laudatory letters, especially from reference persons.
But
dissenting opinions,
or
the manner in
which
they are
written,4
may be resented by colleagues; they may
thus
inflame present disagreements and pro- vide fuel for future ones. Overt nonpublic conflict often makes for alertness, clarifies issues, raises alternative approaches
to
decisions,
and tests the
inten- sity of justices' commitments
to
given posi- tions. The fact that it is both overt and nonpublic is important, for conflict is ini- tially brought into the open only
for
those
in
the Court to observe. Thus
justices can
proceed hypothetically,
play
devil's advo-
cate,
and feel free to change their positions if persuaded by their colleagues, or,
if
not persuaded, to acquiesce in silence. Such conflict has many positive consequences, but when it gets out of
hand--i.e.,
becomes highly emotional, tense, and
antagonistic--
most
of
its consequences are negative. Co-
vert
disagreement increases because some justices in such situations tend to withdraw. Decision-making becomes less rational and less collegial. Overt public conflict in-
creases--both
in terms
of
dissenting and concurring opinions and also in terms
of
less legitimate forms
of
expression (e.g.,
un-
charitable remarks about colleagues in open court),
all
of which tend to diminish the
Court's
authority. Conflict
in
the Court, then, has its uses,
but it
is clear that conflict must be con- stantly managed so that the Court can achieve its basic
purposes~authoritative
settlement
of
disputes brought before it and continuance as a highly rational, efficient, collegial decision-making
body.
Values Value disparity underlies a considerable amount
of intracourt
conflict. That is in- evitable in view
of
the kinds
of
cases that come to the Supreme Court
for
decision. They are the difficult cases, those
for
which legal guidelines are unclear or involve
fun-
damental value conflicts in society. Issues in many
of
those cases are to be answered by interpretation
of
vague clauses in the Constitution, and in such matters stare
decisis
carries little weight. As one member
of
the Court put it, a judge in construing the Con- stitution "often rejects the gloss which his predecessors put on it. For the gloss may, in his view, offend the spirit
of
the Constitu- tion or do violence to it... [I]t is the Con- stitution which we have sworn to defend, not some predecessor's interpretation
of
it" (Douglas, 1948, p. 106). Obviously a
jus-
tice's values are related to his view
of
the spirit of the Constitution, and that view not infrequently conflicts with the views
of
his colleagues. Values are also the root
of
dissension in cases involving statutory construction. Leg- islation often represents uneasy compromises of conflicting values, compromises that leave the choice
of
competing values to judges. Thus the arena
of
conflict moves from the legislature to the courts, where similar cleavages are manifested. Often, because of legislative compromises, statutory language is vague, containing terms like interview that ff he had not had the right to dissent, he could not in good conscience have remained on the Court after the first case was decided in which he disagreed with the
ma-
jority.
4"The
technique
of
the dissenter," said Justice Jackson (1955,
pp.
18-19), "often is to
exaggerate
the holding of the Court beyond the meaning of the majority and then
blast
away at the excess."
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DAVID
I. DANELSK1
74
"just,"
"reasonable," and
"fair."
A
judge's
reaction
to such
language, said Justice Douglas, "is bound
to
be like his reaction to the generalities
of
constitutional clauses. The language that he construes gathers meaning and overtones, significance and relevancy in terms
of
his own
life
and ex- perience, his personal
set of
values..." (Douglas,
1948,
pp. 105-06). That is
not to
say that Supreme Court
justices
decide
cases
solely in terms
of
personal predilec- tions. Values operate more subtly in the decisional process,
but
they operate none- theless; they are what Holmes called
the "can't
helps." Recognizing that, Douglas concluded that judges "must be free
to choose--and,
being
free,
must have
the
daring to
let
their inner conscience cast their votes" (
1948,
p.
107).
Clearly, then, values are important in ex- plaining conflict and
its
resolution in
the
Court,
and
operational definition
is
a first step in such explanation. Values
are
viewed here as hypothetical constructs anchored
in quantifiable
human behavior. The analyst infers them
from
eval- uations, which are units
of
speech or other activity indicating that a justice regards a thing, condition, property, event, action, or idea as good, useful, or desirable, either in itself or
for
the achievement
of
some pur- pose (see Brecht, 1959, p.
119). After
eval- uations are identified, they are labeled
in
terms
of
specific
value constructs--e.g.,
freedom, equality, and tradition. Values
are
always postulated for purposes
of
inquiry. They are constructs,
not
empirical entities; their scientific status tums entirely on whether they are validly anchored in evalu- ations and whether evaluations are validly labeled. In order to determine value disparity among justices, values must be ordered by a common method. The simplest method is the construction
of
hierarchical profiles based on the frequency
of
evaluations in specific
value
categories. The method is based on the assumption that top values are expressed more frequently than lesser values. A more precise way
of
ordering values is measurement
of
value dimensions. Perhaps the most important dimension is intensity, which refers to the strength
of
emotional attachment to a value. Another dimension is congruency, which refers to the harmony a specific
value
has with other values
in
the same profile.
If
there are no conflicting values and a number
of
reinforcing values, then a
value
is said to possess high con- gruency. Still another dimension is cogni- tive completeness, which here refers to a justice's readiness to perceive a
set of
phe- nomena
in
terms
of
a specific
value--the
readiness being based on the breadth and depth
of
experience concerning that
value.
For example,
if
a
justice,
in his years
at
the bar, had tried a
large
number
of
cases in- volving
due
process issues, his value of due process is
apt to be
more
cognitively
com- plete when he ascends the
bench
than that
of
a justice who seldom handled
such cases
during
his
legal career. Experience increas- ing cognitive completeness often occurs
in
the judicial process. After a number
of
due process
cases
are considered and decided by
the
latter justice
in
the above example, his value
of
due process is likely
to
become more
cognitively
complete. A
recentstudy (Danelski, 1966)
provides some confirmation
of the
hypothesis that value disparity is significantly related to overt conflict in the Court. The most im-
portant
overt nonpublic conflict in the Court in the mid-1930s concerned
the
limits
of
constitutional protection
of
property rights, and the leading proponents
of
diver- gent views in conference on this
subject,
according to Chief Justice Hughes, were
NUMBErr
1 CONFLICT RESOLUTION VOLUME
XI
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CONFLICT RESOLUTION IN
THE
SUPREME COURT 75 Justices Butler and Brandeis. Analysis of comparable public addresses by Butler and Brandeis prior to their appointments re- vealed value profiles indicating substantial disparity concerning
laissez-faire,
which was positively valued by Butler and negatively valued by Brandeis. Their respective laissez- faire values possessed high intensity, con- gruency, and cognitive completeness. Thus it
is
not surprising that the same
value
dis- parity was manifested as overt public con-
flict.
This was clearly shown in their behavior as lone dissenters
in
the seventeen years they were jointly Court members. It was completely consistent with their respec- tive
laissez-faire
value positions. Cumula- tive scaling
of all
divided decisions involving government and the economy during the 1935 and 1936 terms
of
the Court and factor analysis
of all
divided decisions
for
those terms provided further confirmation
of
the relationship between
the value dis-
parity
of
Butler and Brandeis concerning
laissez-faire
and their publicly expressed
disagreement.~
Value
disparity is related to conflict in the Court to the extent that values are
sig-
nificant in
its
decisions, and that depends on the approach taken to
decision-making. If
justices approach decisions with
the
idea
of
doing justice
in
each case, as
Justice
Rutledge
is
said
to
have done, then deci- sions
can
be explained largely in terms
of
value disparity. Each
of Rutledge's
deci- sions, said Chief
Justice
Vinson, was
"con-
sistent with
his
instinctive sense
of
right and wrong. Regardless
of
divergence
of
opinion, no colleague ever had doubt that Wiley
Rutledge
believed he was right"
(1950,
p.
xxvii).
When specifically asked
how
he de-
cided
cases,
Rutledge
said he studied
the
briefs and records
"to
determine
if
possible on which side justice
lay. If
that was
clear,
he searched the
law for
a legitimate means
of
rendering justice.
It
was usually possible,
he
said,
to
find a route that satis- fied both the requirements
of
the case and sound principles
of law" (Brant,
1965, p.
xii). Conflict
resolution in a court in which
the
justices decided cases on the basis of their individual notions
of
justice would be difficult
at
best,
for
the reasons given by Ross
(1959, pp.
274-75). "The ideology
of
justice," Ross wrote,
"leads
to
implaca- bility
and conflict, since on the one hand it incites to the belief that one's demand
is not
merely the expression
of
a certain in- terest with opposing interests,
but
that it possesses a higher, absolute validity; and on
the
other hand it precludes
all
rational ar- gument and discussion
of
a settlement." The last part
of Ross's
statement is extreme and probably
would not
have applied to Rut- ledge; nonetheless, when a justice argues in terms
of his
personal conception
of
justice, opponents cannot prove
him
wrong. They
can
point
out
the consequences
of
his posi- tion,
but if
that is unconvincing, there is, as a practical matter, little more that can be done except
to
agree to disagree. The classic statement concerning ap- proaches
to
appellate
decision-making was made
by
Cardozo (1921). Each of the
conscious methods
of
decision he dis-
cussed--philosophy
(by which he meant
the
logical application
of
precedents and
legal
principles
to
cases), history, tradition, and
sociology--can
proceed in terms
of
empirical
referents. But
that
is not
to say that personal values are
not
involved in their application. For
example, in
applying legal principles to a case, a value choice
may
be involved
in the
selection
of
one set
5
The work
of
Pritchett (1948) and Schubert (1965)
can also
be interpreted as indicating that conflict in
the
Court stems from
value
disparity.
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76 DAVID
J. DANELSKI
of
legal principles instead
of
another. Never- theless, precedents giving rise to
legal
prin- ciples are empirical phenomena that can
be
examined and discussed
more
or less ob- jectively, and the rules
of
logic are the
same for all
justices. The historical background
of legal
institutions and rules and their de- velopment, as well as
the
existence
of cus-
toms, are matters which,
if
disputed, can in principle be proven
empirically.
The method
of
sociology deals specifically with values, but the values upon which decisions based on this method rest are supposed to be society's, not the justices' (Cardozo,
1921,
p.
108). One
of
the difficulties here is that a justice's perceptions
of
societal values are related
to
and conditioned by his personal values.
Yet
societal values can,
at
least in principle, be ascertained
empirically
(see
Brecht, 1959,
pp.
148-50).
Evidence
can
be
marshalled,
and there are methods
for
determining its reliability. Often, however, there is no reliable evidence.
"At
those times," Cardozo wrote, "[the justice] must put himself as best
he
can within the heart and mind
of
others, and frame
his
estimate
of
values by the truth thus revealed.
Objec- tive
tests may fail him, or may be so
con-
fused as to bewilder. He must then
look
within himself" (1928, pp. 55-56). Thus
the
approach taken determines the impor- tance of values in decision-making;
but
re- gardless
of
approach, values are always to some extent relevant, and to the extent that they are,
ceteris paribus,
value disparity is
apt
to be related to conflict. Role
In
a
five-to-four
decision that rejected a condemned man's constitutional argument, Justice Frankfurter explained his majority vote with these words:
"I
cannot
rid
myself
of the
conviction that were
I
to hold that Louisiana
would
trangress
the Due
Process Clause if the State were allowed, in
the
precise circumstances before us,
to
carry out
the
death sentence,
I
would be enforcing
my
private
view
rather than that consensus
of
society's opinion,
which, for
purposes
of
due process,
is thestandard
enjoined by the Constitution" (1947, p. 471).
In
other words, Frankfurter said his vote turned
on
his conception
of
his role, which he saw as requiring him to decide the case in terms of society's values and
not
his
own.? In
less dramatic
cases,
role conceptions also inter- vene and seem
at
times
to
determine judicial behavior. Thus role as a variable in judicial
decision-making can
make
for
agreement among justices with diverse values,
but
dis- parity
of
role conceptions, like value dis- parity, can also make
for intracourt
conflict. A role is defined here as a
set of normafive
expectations concerning the official behavior
of
an incumbent
of
a Supreme Court posi- tion (see Gross
et al., 1957).
The most im-
portant
position is,
of
course, that
of
Court member,
but
in addition, a justice may
oc-
cupy other
positions--e.g., chief
justice or senior associate justice. Expectations are
normafive, not predictivemi.e.,
they indi-
cate
what a
justice,
because
of
his position, should do. Although their content is nor- mative, expectations are always ascertained
empirically;
the analyst infers them from verbal or nonverbal behavior in
the
same way he infers values from evaluations. In determining normativeness
of
expectations,
o
Although Justice
Frankfurter's
explanation
of
his vote
in
the capital punishment case may be accurate, an explanation in terms
of role alone
is too simple. As Professor Murphy pointed out when he read a draft
of
this article, Justice Frankfurter would have to perceive a conflict between his values and society's before his
role
conception
would be relevant--and
even then, as was pointed
out
earlier, his
per-
ception
of
societal values
would be
related to and conditioned by
his
personal
values.
CONFLICT
lIESOLUTION VOLUa~tlE XI ~UM~ER
1
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CONFLICT RESOLUTION
IN THE
SUPREME COURT 77 contextual considerations are important,
for
a justice's actual behavior does not neces-
sarily
indicate
what
he, as a Court member, believes he should do. The most relevant expectations are those held
by
the justices themselves,
but
the expectations
of
others are also relevant ff they
are
connected with a justice's official behavior. Since sets of expectations defining roles are analogues
of
value profiles, they can be used similarly
to
determine disparity
and
agreement
of
role conceptions among
jus-
tices. Agreement on the basic judicial role
can
overcome considerable value disparity.
For
example,
if
all the justices
in
the capital- punishment case mentioned above had agreed with
Frankfurter's
conception
of
their role in such
cases--i.e.,
they should
determinethe
requirements
of
due process in terms
of
prevailing societal values then
the
basic issue would be more one
of
fact than one
of
value, and so
it
would be more amenable to empirical solution. The fact that justices agree that precedent should
be
followed in certain cases undoubtedly makes
for
agreement despite value disparity.
But
where justices have divergent role
concep-
tions--e.g., where one justice holds
self-
restraint expectations
and
a number
of
his colleagues
do not--conflict
is likely despite substantial value agreement. That appears to have been Justice
Stone's
situation in relation to his conservative
col-
leagues in the
1930s.
He felt that
if
they
had
understood his conception
of
"the true nature
of
the judicial function," they would have
acted
with restraint, as he
did,
when the constitutionality
of
economic legislation
was
challenged
(Mason, 1956,
p,
412).7
And it appears that some of Frankfurter's disagreement with colleagues like Black and Douglas
in
civil liberties cases in the
late 1950s
was due to divergent role conceptions (see Grossman, 1963), Finally, complete agreement on role conceptions does
not
necessarily mean an absence
of
conflict. On the contrary, the role conception agreed upon, e.g., doing justice in each ease, may lead to conflict. The possibility
of
a reinforcing relation- ship between basic role conceptions and values cannot be overlooked. For example, Justice
Butler believed
that the justices should adhere to precedent rather strictly and not interpret the Constitution
flexibly, butMgiven
the state of precedents at the time concerning the constitutionality
of
gov- ernmental regulation
of businessmButler's role
conceptions and top values were
com-
patible and
reinforcingl
Conversely, the same
was
true
for
Justice Brandeis
in
regard to his role conception
of self-restraint
and his value
of
economic regulation by govern- ment. Thus, although these
justicesoften
justified their positions with role arguments, their values at times appear to have been the more important
decision-making
vari-
ables-at least,
that thought occurred to
Justice
Stone (see Mason,
1956,
pp. 306,
350-51).
Although there is considerable disagree- ment in the Court concerning the
basic
judicial role, expectations concerning certain specific aspects
of
a
justice's
behavior are shared by
all--he
should
act
with dignity in open
court,
speak in conference
in
order of seniority, vote in reverse order,
etc.
Most makes much difference whether unfortunate interpretations
of
the Constitution are purpose-
ful
or
only
the product
of muddy
thinking and the subconscious force
of
unrecognized preju- dices" (quoted in Mason, 1956,
p. 41.2).
7
When challenged on this point by a former colleague
i_
at Columbia who
argued.
that
the.
motives or values of conservatives were the underlying
bases
for their decisions, Stone re- sponded: "In the long run,
I
do
not
suppose
it
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78
DAVID
1. DANELSKI
of
the expectations defining
the
chief
jus-
tice's
role are
similarly shared, and they
put
him in a unique position
for
purposes
of
conflict avoidance and resolution. As presiding officer in open court and in con- ference, he can sometimes stem a conflict in its
early
stages and orient the discussion to resolve
it. He
can use
his
power to as- sign opinions as an instrument
of
conflict resolution by assigning divided decisions to justices whose opinions
will
tend to unite the Court (see
Danelski,
1961, pp. 503-05). He can
also
use his assignment power as an instrument
of
dispute settlement in
so-
ciety by assigning cases to justices whose
authorship
will have positive symbolic sig- nificance
for
defeated litigants and the in- terests they represent. Chief Justice Hughes did this when he assigned decisions striking down
New
Deal statutes to liberal justices
like
Brandeis. To give added symbolic sig- nificance to decisions involving disputes
of
great moment in society, chief justices have often assigned cases to themselves. Chief Justice Warren speaking
for
the entire Court in Brown
v.
Board
o[
Education
(1954) is
the best modern example. As a conse- quence
of
this practice, chief justices have often been singled
out for
attack by losing litigants
and
those who identify with them. The
chief
justice is
also
in a position to rec- oncile disagreement in the Court because
of
his central position in
intracourt
com- munications,
for he
usually
knows
better than any
of
his colleagues who is having difficulty writing an opinion,
who
is waver- ing in his vote, and so forth. And since, as a practical matter, he decides when an opin- ion will be announced, he can delay an-
nouncement in
hope
of
augmenting
the Court's majority
in a given case. Chief justices have generally made the most
of
their position
to
reconcile disagree- ment in
the Courtmso much
so that in cer- tain periods
of
history an important sector
of
the chief
justice's
role clearly concerned conflict resolution. One
would
therefore expect a
chief justice
who actively embraced that sector
of
his
role
to be more inclined to suppress his own disagreements with
col-
leagues,
to
keep them covert or at
least
non- public. That appears to have been true
of Chief
Justices White, Taft, and Hughes.
White's case
is the clearest because, in addi-
tion to
sharing
Taft's
and
Hughes's
concep- tions
of
the
chief justice
as Court unifier, he had occupied the role
of
associate
justice for
some eighteen years immediately before
his
promotion to the chief
justiceship.
There-
fore,
his overt public behavior
in
each
role
can be compared. As associate
justice,
he averaged about ten dissents each term; as chief justice, his term average was four dis- sents. This finding in itself does not show conclusively the impact
of
White's role as chief justice on his dissenting behavior, but persuasive evidence in
.that
regard is
the
fact that,
for
his first
two
terms as chief
justice,
he officially cast only a single dissenting vote.
Chief Justice
Stone, who
like
White occupied both
roles
in succession, did not share
his
predecessors' views
of the
chief
justice
as Court unifier; indeed, when he was
an
associate justice he
objected
to
limit-
ing
the
expression
of
dissent.
In
his case,
the role of
chief justice served at most as a
small
constraint on
his
dissenting behavior; his dissent average as chief justice
far
sur- passed
his
average as associate
justice.s
Some
of the most
important expectations defining a justice's
role
concern public ex- pression
of
disagreement.
Prior
to 1940 it
was
considered inappropriate
for
a justice
to
record dissent officially unless the case
involved
important matters
of
principle
*
For a discussion
of
this matter in regard to Chief Justices Hughes
and
Warren, see Murphy ( 1962, p. 251). CONFLICT RESOLUTION
VOLUM'E
XI NUMBER
1
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CONFLICT RESOLUTION
IN
THE SUPREME COURT 79 (usually concerning the Constitution).
If
a case concerned, say, statutory construction, a dissenting justice was generally expected
to
acquiesce in silence. When a justice recorded dissent in lesser
cases, it
was not uncommon
for
his colleagues to remind
him
in a gentle way what was expected. In
his
early years on the Court, Stone received such reminders from Buffer,
McReynolds, Taft,
and Brandeis. During the same pe- riod,
the
general expectation was that special concurrences would
be
infrequent and
would
only happen, again, in cases
in- volving
matters
of
important principle. After
1940,
expectations concerning public ex- pression
of
disagreement were modified to permit dissents and special concurrences almost without limitation.
The
reason
for the
change appears to be related to Chief Justice Stone's failure to embrace
the
con-
flict-resolving
expectations
of the
chief
jus-
tice's role
and
the general failure
of
social leadership during his
chief justiceship (Danelski,
1961). The
new
expectations concerning public expression
of
conflict have continued despite personnel changes in
the
Court. Leadership "Each dissenting opinion,"
Justice
Jack- son said, "is a confession
of
failure to con- vince the writer's colleagues, and
the
true test
of
a judge is his influence in leading, not opposing,
his
court" (1955,
p. 19).
Leadership is indeed important in the Su- preme Court. In a broad sense,
it
refers to behavior that is instrumental
in
the Court's achievement
of
its goals. Two of
the
Court's main goals are
the
decision
of
cases
and the
maintenance
of
favorable
social-
emotional conditions
for decision-making.
Behavior significantly connected with deci- sional outcomes
is
therefore a
form of
lead- ership behavior, and since
it
deals with the
Court's
main task,
it
is called task leader- ship. Behavior significantly connected with the maintenance
of the social-emotional
con- ditions for decision-making is another form
of
leadership behavior and
is re?en'ed
to here as social leadership. Both
forms of
leadership are important in understanding decision-making and conflict resolution in the Court.
Task
leadership attempts are defined
in
terms of Bales' categories
4,
5,
and
6 (1950, p. 9)' gives suggestion or direction; gives opinion, evaluation, analysis, or expresses feeling or wish; gives orientation, informa- tion, repetition, or confirmation. The analyst designates such attempts as task leadership behaviors ff
it
is highly probable that they have influenced decisional outcomes (see Murphy,
1964,
pp. 7-8;
Danelski,
1964,
pp. 153-55).
The exercise
of
influence
can be
verified to some extent by examination
of intracourt
communications, votes cast and changed, and written opinions circulated and changed at various stages
of the
de- cisional process. Thus task leadership refers to effective leadership concerning decisional outcomes. A
justice
need not be on
the
winning side
of
a case to exercise task leadership.
He may
lead a minority;
he
may acquiesce in silence
in
a result with which
he
disagrees but yet be influential in determining content
of
the majority opinion. At
one time
or another every
justice
exer- cises task leadership, but some do so more than others and with such consistency that
it
is not inaccurate
to
refer to them as task leaders
of
a bloc within
the
Court or of the entire Court. A detailed explanation
of
why some justices are more successful in exer- cising task leadership than others is beyond
the
scope of this article. Suffice it to say that task leadership
is
related to personality, esteem within
the
Court, intelligence, tech- nical competence, and persuasive ability.
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80
DAVID 1. DANELSI(1
A task leader is necessarily involved in
conflict and its
resolution. Interested pri- marily
in
decisional outcomes,
his
concern
for the personal
needs
and
feelings
of his
associates is
apt to be
secondary.
His major
concern
is
carrying a
majorit), with him and
securing an opinion
of
the Court that repre- sents his position.
His
task, as he
often
sees it, is
to win
a
majority by force of
argument. Justices sometimes go along with
him
on
the
surface because they have no desire
to
do battle with
him. As
one justice said
of
another who exercised a considerable amount
of
task leadership:
"You
can't just disagree with
him. You
must
go to
war with
him if
you disagree" (quoted
in Gel'-
hart, 1958, p.
274).
Task leadership,
aim- ing at
decisional outcomes, tends
to
resolve overt nonpublic conflict at
the
level
of
votes and official opinions
but
usually does
not touch it at
the psychological level. On
the
contrary,
at
that level
it
tends
to
exacerbate conflict.
It
is suggested as a hypothesis that
the
importance
of
a
justice'svalues
in
hhe deci-
sional process
is
roughly proportional
to his
exercise
of
task leadership. Values
and
task leadership are also related
in
other ways. Preliminary research by
the~
author sug- gests that the
top
values
of
task leaders
tend
to possess high congruency, intensity,
and
cognitive completeness. They are keenly aware
of
their value positions; they quickly relate facts
and
issues
in
cases to these values;
and
they almost immediately take firm stands in argument,
while
their
col-
leagues are still groping
for sohtions. An-
other hypothesis concerning values
and
task leadership is that task leaders are successful
in
persuasion largely because they understand
the top
values
of
their
col- leagues. Intuitively;
they es
'tanate/he
value hierarchies
of
their associates and assess
the
intensity, congruency,
and
cognitive
tom-
pleteness of
values. When disagreement stems
h-orn
value disparity, an astute task leader sometimes attains agreement by strenuously pushing an argument contrary to a
low-intensity
value
held
by a colleague.
He
may make
the
most
of the
low
con- gruency of
a
value
underlying
his
oppo- nent's position by arguing,
ff it
is relevant, the main inconsistent
value
making
for in-
congruency. Or he may secure agreement by making a
value
more
cognitively com-
plete
for
a colleague.
How
a task leader sees his
basic judicial
role is significant
for decision-making in
the
Court. If
he sees
it
primarily in terms
of self-restraint
or stare decisis,
his
personal values
are apt to
be less clearly reflected
in the Court's
decisions than are
the
values
of
some justices
who
exercise
less
leadership. The converse
is, of
course,
true if
he sees his
role
primarily
in
terms
of
activism or doing justice. No matter
how
he conceives his
role, it
is important
for
leadership
pur-
poses that he understand his colleagues' role conceptions.
If, for
example, a
justice
who disagrees with him sees
his
role as adhering to
stare decisaa, the
task
leader's
course is clear: he must make a persuasive argument
in
terms
of
precedent.
If the disagreeing
justice sees his
role
as doing
justice,
the task
leader's
course is as indicated
in
the previ-
ous
paragraph. Because
of his
role, the
chief justice
has
some
advantages
over his
colleagues in ex- ercising
task
leadership. His
chief advan-
tage is
in the
conference, where he
pre-
sides, speaks first (presenting each case to
his
colleagues),
and
votes
last. His
power to assign
cases for
opinion
also has
con- siderable task leadership implications be- cause
the
content
of an
opinion turns largely on who is chosen to write
it. How
much
of
an
edge
the
chief justice's
role gives
him is
a question not easily answered.
Reflec-
CONFLICT RESOLUTION
VOLUME XI
NUMBER 1
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CONFLICT RESOLUTION IN
THE
SUPREME COURT 81 ting on his experience on the New York Court
of
Appeals, Cardozo said that when he became
chief judge,
he was amazed that "his voice in consultation had suddenly ac- quired treble weight"
(Llewellyn
and
Hoebel,
1941, p. 62). That statement would be
more
than a slight exaggeration if
ap-
plied to the
chief
justice's voice in Supreme Court conferences. Hughes
:put
it more accurately when he said that the actual
in-
fluence
of
the
chief
justice depends "on the strength
Of
his character and the demon- stration
of
his ability in the intimate rela- tions
of the
judges" (1928,
p.
57). Social leadership attempts are defined here in terms
of
Bales' categories 1, 2, and 3 (1950,
p.
9): shows solidarity, raises others' status, gives
help
or reward; shows tension release,
jokes,
laughs, shows satisfaction; agrees, shows passive acceptance, under- stands, concurs. The analyst designates these as social leadership behaviors
if
it
is
highly probable that they contribute
to
tension management
arid
group integration. As in task leadership, every
justice,
at one time or another, exercises some social leadership, but some justices are specialists in it. A Court may clearly have one such leader or it may
have two
or three. Almost invariably, social leaders are the
best-liked
members
of
the Court; in sociograms of
the Court
they are in the
middle: of
star configurations. Social leaders
try
to
avoid
conflict-- indeed, they tend to suppress their disagree- ment with other justices, i.e., keep
it covert---
yet
rather than withdraw from conflict, they remain
in
it primarily to restore peace, solidarity, harmony,
and
friendliness
in
the Court. Sensitive to the needs
of
others,
and
desirous
of
finding ground upon which
all
stand, they negotiate, bargain, seek
and
make concessions. Their behavior is
not
only
instrumental in resolving overt con-
flict;
often it cuts more deeply and resolves covert conflict as well. Knowledge
of
colleagues' values and
role
conceptions is important to the social leader in quest
of
solidarity.
For
example, when two justices are arguing a point involving diametrically opposed top values and the social leader knows that neither
will
be
moved
by the other, the best thing
for
him to do
is
to intervene, suggesting that the case be viewed in different terms or that the justices should perhaps agree to disagree. In trying to reconcile opposing positions, he
may
use his knowledge of his colleagues' values
and
role conceptions
much
as the task leader
would--e.g.,
press a point in-
volving
a value
not
intensely held by a
col-
league, or concede that the proper basis of decision is precedent
but
then point out that, since the cases are
not
clearly in point,
it might
be better to go along with the majority.
But
unlike
the
task leader, his goal is
primarfiy
group harmony,
not vic-
tory.
Important as
values and
role
conceptions are
in
the resolution of conflict by a social leader, his appeals for harmony
often
go beyond them.
He
may appeal to the corporate reputation
of
the Court
and
point
out
that public conflict in
the
Court would diminish its effectiveness in settling
dis-
putes; or he may appeal to friendship,
point out
that others have
acted
similarly in other eases,
and
so forth.
The
chief justice's
role
gives
him
some advantages in exercising social leadership, and chief justices have exercised a consider- able amount
of
such leadership in confer- ence,
in
opinion assignments, and in "mass-
ing"
the Court. Insofar as we know,
few'
justices have been simultaneously task and social leaders
of
their Courts. Such persons are said to be
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82 DAVID
J. DANELSKI
relatively rare
in decision-making
groups generally (Slater,
1955,
p.
512),
and they
have
been referred to as "great men"
lead- ers (Borgatta et al., 1954).
Although
Chief
Justices Marshall
and
Hughes appear to have been "great
men"
leaders, the more usual leadership configuration in
the
Court consists
of
different
justices
providing task and social leadership. Sometimes a task leader
and
a social leader will work
in
coalition. That
was .the
situation in
the
1920s when the affable Chief
Justice
Taft exercised social
leadership
and his friend and appointee Van
Devanter
exercised most
of
the task leadership (see
Danelski,
1961). Both task and social leadership are neces- sary
for
effective
decision-making
in
the
Supreme Court. The former inevitably in- volves conflict that often
leads
to increased tension
and
antagonism, which,
if
unre- lieved, eventually receive public expression. The latter tends to relieve tension, reduce antagonism,
and
integrate
the
group. In other words,
it
tends
to
keep
the
Court in a state
of
emotional
equfiibrium
so that it can take advantage
of
the positive aspects
of
overt nonpublic conflict
and
at the same time resolve
it,
or
at least
manage
it,
so that when
the
Court speaks publicly it
can
achieve maximum societal dispute
settle-
ment. Personality Personality, like other concepts discussed, is a hypothetical construct anchored in
quantifiable
human behavior.
It
is inferred from sets
of
activities that differentiate one
justice
from another in terms
of
some theory. The theory is deliberately unspecified
be-
cause different personality theories
can
profitably
be
postulated
in the
discussion
of
conflict
and its
resolution in the Supreme Court.
Karen Horney's
theory
(1937, 1945,
1950) will be used here to
illustrate
the utility of
the
concept of personality
in .the
present discussion and to extend the general analysis.
Her
theory and
the typology of
personality stemming from
it
are not com-
plex,
but
at the
present stage of develop- ment
of
judicial
decision-making
theory, that is an advantage. Moreover,
the
theory
can
be applied to available data concern- ing
the
justices
and
is capable
of
being
operationalized for
precise quantitative analysis. According
to
Homey, a person's attempts
to solve his
inner conflicts determine
his
personality type. There are three basic solutions: moving toward people, moving against them, and moving away
from
them.
For
the sake
of
simplicity, she classified the corresponding personality types as
com-
pliant, aggressive,
and
detached. At one time or another, everyone exhibits behavior indicating movement toward, against,
and
away from people. The task of the analyst is
to
determine which solution is dominant. The extent of
compulsiveness of
a person's behavior
in
regard to one
of the
solutions indicates
the
degree
to
which
he
is associ- ated with that personality type. Thus a given type may be further designated as mild, moderate, or extreme. The behavior
of
a compliant type indi- cates that his primary needs are affection
and
approval. He sees himself as unselfish, humble,
self-sacrificing,
kind, loving, gen- erous, trusting;
and he
is usually perceived by others that way because he manifests such behavior.
His
behavior pattern
in
that regard, however, tends to be extreme
and
rigid. He overrates
his
congeniality and what he has in common with others;
he is
often
overconsiderate
and
overgenerous. He
avoids
intrapersonal
conflict, is conciliatory,
and
hesitates
to
assert himself or give orders. He is essentially submissive
and
compliant.
He
needs a special
partner--often
a friend CONFLICT RESOLUTION VOLUME
XI NU.MBER 1
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CONFLICT RESOLUTION 1N
THE
SUPREME
COURT 83
or
spouse--someone
with an opposite
per- sonality who
aggressively protects
him
and his interests
and who
gives him approval and affection. Other characteristics mani- fested by this personality type are
self-
subordination, helplessness, and a tendency to
rate
himself
in
terms
of
what others think
of him. He
readily assumes that others are superior to him
and often feels
that they
could do
his
job
better.
He is
very sensitive to criticism
and fears
rejection.
The
compliant justice, disliking conflict
and
avoiding it
where
he can, is amenable to its resolution in the Court.
He
is hesi- tant to press
his
positions aggressively, es- pecially
in
conflict situations, and is inclined
to
defer to justices who assert task
leader-
ship.
For
that reason,
his
disagreements with his colleagues tend to remain covert. Conflict,
particularly if
it
is
antagonistic, makes
him
tense, tenser
usually
than
the
rest
of
his colleagues, and
in
an effort to relieve that tension,
he
manifests social- emotional
behavior:
he
laughs,
jokes, and seeks reconciliation
of
opposing views. His contribution to the decisional process
often
wins his colleagues' affection
and
ap- proval, which,
of
course,
he
wants. Thus his personality predisposes
him
to assert social leadership
and
at the same time makes it difficult
for him
to assert task
leadership.
One
of
the most effective social leaders in the
Couffs
history was
Chief
Justice
Taft,
a moderate compliant type.
His
spe- cial partner was his close friend, Justice Van Devanter, who was the task
leader
during
his chief justiceship.
"While the compliant type tends to
ap-
pease," wrote
Homey, "the
aggressive type does everything he can to
be
a good fighter. He is
alert and
keen
in
argument and will go out
of his way
to launch one for the sake
of
proving
he
is right.
He
may be at his best when
his
back is to
the wall
....
He
is a bad loser and undeniably wants victory" (1945, p. 66). He sees himself as tough and would
like
others
to
see
him
that way.
He
seeks
power--control
over
others--
and will go to great lengths to attain it. Often he operates openly,
but
"he may
pre- fer
to be the power behind the throne" (Homey,
1945, p. 64).
Persons with extreme aggressive personal- ities are seldom appointed
to
the Supreme Court, probably because extreme aggressive- ness
is
regarded as
unjudicial and
also prob- ably because extreme aggressive types are unable to establish the requisite
affeetive
relationships
for
political preferment (see
Lasswell,
1954,
p.
222;
Danelski,
1964, pp. 159-61).
But
it
is
not uncommon
for men
with mild to moderate aggressive personal- ities to be
appointed.~
They are
the
ones
who
easily express overt conflict, and they are
also
the ones who usually make task leadership attempts
in the
decisional proc- ess. Justice Black,
for
example,
who has
exercised considerable task leadership, was described by one
of
his former
law
clerks as follows:
"[He]
is a very,
very
tough man. When
he
is convinced,
he
is cool hard
steel. He
knows clearly the kind
of
America he wants
his chfidren
to grow
up
in,
and he
is absolutely impervious to blows that may fall upon him
for
trying to create that Amer- ica.
His
temper is usually in
close
control, but he fights, and his words may occasion- ally have a terrible edge. He can be a rough man
in
an argument" (Frank, 1949, pp. 134-35). The behavior
of the
detached type indi-
cates
a capacity
to look
at himself "with a kind
of objective
interest, as one would look at a work
of
art"
(Horney, 1945, p.
75).
His
primary need
is
emotional
dis- rance
between himself
and
others. De- tached persons are determined "not to get emotionally involved with others
in
any
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84
DAVID
1. DANELSK1
way, whether in love,
fight,
cooperation, or competition. They draw around themselves a kind
of magic
circle
which
no one can penetrate.
And
that is
why,
superficially,
they may
'get along' with people." Other basic needs
of
this type are
self-sufficiency,
privacy, and a
teeling of
superiority.
Lass-
well
views the
detached type as a basic
poIitical
personality type. Highly intelligent persons
of
this type,
he
points
out,
can easily fake
affectionate
warmth; they "can recognize signs
of affective
expectation
in
others
and play up, much
as
the deaf man learns
to
read
lips
and
to mingle smoothly with those who are not hard
of
hearing .... From detached characters,"
Lasswell
con- cludes, "useful
judges,
arbitrators, concilia- tors, diplomatic
negotiators and
scientists can be recruited"
(1948, pp.
92-93). Assuming a
justice's
detachment is mild to moderate, he can be
very
effective in
decision-making and
conflict resolution.
In
making
task-leadership
attempts he
does
not have
the
emotional involvement
of the
aggressive type,
which
is to his
advantage--
he
can
more easily plan his strategy
of
argu- ment
and
take into account his colleagues' values
and
role conceptions. He
is
therefore
in
a good position to emerge as a task leader; his personality does not stand in his way as it does
for
the compliant type.
Nor
does
it
stand
in
the way
of his
exercising social leadership,
for,
as
Lasswell
pointed
out, if
he is highly intelligent, he can simu- late
the
requisite warmth
and
perform de- liberately
the
necessary
social-emotional be-
havior. Besides, as Homey observed, he usually gets along with his
colleagues--
perhaps superficially, but
he
gets along nonetheless. Therefore a
justice (and
espe- cially a
chief justice)
with a mild to
mod-
erate detached personality, which Hughes appears to have had, is in a favorable
posi-
tion to exercise both task and social leader- ship.
Chief Justice Marshall
exercised both task
and
social leadership, but he was not a detached type. Nor was
he
a compliant or an aggressive type.
He
possessed the warmth
of
personality
often
exhibited by compliant types, but he
could
be aggressive,
and at
times in
fact
was,
in
leading
his
Court. And
he
was also capable
of
detach- ment.
The
most tenable hypothesis con- ceming Marshall
is
that he possessed a superbly adjusted personality, which,
com-
bined with high intelligence and other qual- ities, magnificently suited
him for
"great man" leadership. Admittedly, this
brief
discussion
of
Hor- ney's theory
of
personality in relation to conflict and its resolution in
the
Supreme Court does no more than scratch
the
surface
of
the subject. Yet
it
does show
the sig-
nificance
of
personality as a variable
in
the Court's decisional process,
and
indicates that more sophisticated
and
rigorous inquiries using this variable
are
likely to be fruitful. Conclusion Conflict in the Supreme Court is inevita-
ble
as
the
justices attempt to fulfill their primary political
role--the
settlement
of
disputes brought before them.
It
is due largely to
the
kinds
of
cases that come
to
the Court, those
for
which
legal
guidelines are unclear and those which involve basic societal conflicts.
Such
cases make the
jus-
tices' values salient
in decision-making,
and therefore value disparity is a
major
source
of intracourt
conflict. Another
major
source is disparity
of
conceptions
of
the basic
judicial
role. Other sources
of
conflict in- clude the
justices'
personalities. Some conflict is functional to the
Court's dispute-settling role,
but some is not. There- fore
it
is important
for
members
of
the Court CONFLICT RESOLUTION VOLUME XI NUMBER
1
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CONFLICT RESOLUTION IN
THE
SUPREME COURT 85 to distinguish
functional
from
dysfunctional conflict
and
to
strive to resolve, or
at
least manage, the latter. Success
in
this regard depends largely on
the
maintenance
of social-emotional
conditions necessary
for
highly rational, efficient, collegial decision- making.
And
those conditions are
dosely
related to
the
quality
and
quantity
of
task and social
leadership--both of
which,
in
turn, are related to
the
justices' personali- ties. Values, role, leadership, and person- ality are
thus key
concepts
in
understanding conflict, its resolution,
and decision-making in the
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