The Zeitgeist and the Judiciary: a 100th Anniversary Reflection

A century ago, a brilliant young lawyer named Felix Frankfurter spoke at the 25th anniversary of the Harvard Law Review.  His speech was entitled “The Zeitgeist and the Judiciary.”

At 30, Frankfurter was already a central figure in progressive circles, and would prove one of the most influential American jurists of the 20th century.  During the first quarter-century of his adult life, he maintained a regular correspondence with Justice Holmes, regularly wrote legal commentary for Herbert Croly’s new magazine, The New Republic, co-founded the ACLU, and served as advisor to Franklin Roosevelt.  In the next quarter-century (1939-1963), he became one of the most influential and prolific Supreme Court justices in American history.

“The Zeitgeist and the Judiciary” is a remarkable exemplar of  early progressive jurisprudence.  His brief, candid remarks display the main aspects of the progressive political and constitutional project.  The speech is thus important reading for any study of “the living constitution”—especially its original intent.

As the title of the speech indicates, before World War I, progressives were not shy in acknowledging the German, and more specifically, Hegelian, sources of progressive thought.  There was no pretense that “the living constitution” was rooted in the Anglo-American legal tradition.  Rather, Frankfurter expressly identified the “Zeitgeist” as the authority to be obeyed.  This Spirit represented a supra-rational force, whose will was evinced by two facts: “actual conditions of life and current dominant public opinion.”   This Spirit was not to be quenched, he insisted, but “allowed to flood the sympathies and the intelligence” of all political officials, including judges.

Due respect for the Zeitgeist mandated, above all, a flexible, mutable politics; as times changed, so too should both the means and ends of government.  Now the American Founders had declared that all legitimate government, in all times and places, had a fixed end: the security of certain natural rights.  Progressives like Frankfurter countered that government was a “living” thing, and thus “constantly changing and developing to meet new conditions and to accomplish new purposes.”  Accordingly, “so-called immutable principles,” like natural rights, must yield to the Zeitgeist.

While the Zeitgeist set the agenda, the discerning and implementation of this Spirit required scientific knowledge, acquired and applied through experimentation.  According to Frankfurter, the “business of statesmanship” was to act “experimentally” and with “the scientific attitude,” for “legislation is essentially empirical, experimental.”

Constitutional law, in this understanding, played, at best, a subordinate and peripheral role.  In reviewing experimental legislation, the courts were to rely primarily not on “legal principles” or “law books,” but on the “facts of life,” such as the evidence “marshaled with overwhelming force by Louis D. Brandeis” in his famous successful brief in Muller v. Oregon.  Mere “shibboleths,” like “liberty of contract,” must be discarded in deference to “the conditions of life.”

Indeed, these “conditions” (a favorite term for progressives) represented a power higher than the Constitution.  The Constitution had to justify itself before the bar of political philosophy; the Constitution’s very legitimacy depended on its congeniality with the scientific implementation of the Zeitgeist.  Accordingly, Frankfurter decreed that any policy “reasonably defensible on economic or social grounds, whether or not it accords with our individual notions of economics, cannot be offensive on constitutional grounds.” Happily, Frankfurter announced, our Constitution reflected no particular economic theory, posed no obstacle to such experimentation, and thus passed the test.

Perhaps the most prophetic feature of Frankfurter’s address is the central question tacitly raised but not answered: if the democratic Zeitgeist is to reign, if law, with its “general principles” and “well-worn phrases” is to be subordinated to scientific “facts,” what, if anything, is the role of judicial review?  Frankfurter’s speech suggested at least three radically different answers.

First and foremost, his theory would seem to say, “Your honor, please just get out of the way.  As a judge you are ill-equipped to either express or scientifically implement the Zeitgeist.  After all, the people at large, not unelected judges, provide the expression, through all the media of progressive democracy: ‘movements,’ ‘demonstrations,’ referenda, etc.  Further, the scientific implementation of this Spirit needs economists, sociologists, and other trained social scientists, not judges.”

Second, however, judicial review might assign the judge a limited role: the faithful laboratory assistant.  While such an assistant would generally defer to the will of the people and the  judgment of the scientific administrator, the assistant might occasionally  intervene in the name of History and Science. Most notably, while the judge might readily endorse all economic legislation, he would closely scrutinize laws affecting the freedom of expression.  While “liberty of contract” frustrated progress, freedom of opinion and expression facilitated and even accelerated it.

Stated otherwise, the faithful assistant would generally defer to the people and the social scientist.  Still, the judge could intervene to protect free expression, and thus facilitate the Spirit and protect the lab equipment against a (temporarily!) mad scientist.

Third, judges may tire altogether of any subordinate role.  They may fancy themselves the very experts needed, both to discern the Spirit and scientifically implement its agenda.    A judge would then rightfully overturn laws, whether old or new, on the grounds that they were not authentic expressions of the Spirit, or did not reflect good social science.  The most hated law would be a measure “rolling back” any past progress.  Such legislation represented an outrage–a crime against History.

In subsequent decades, progressive judges adopted each of these approaches.  Frankfurter himself arguably played each role.  Although remembered as an advocate of judicial restraint, even in this early speech, he plainly contemplated that judges might take a proactive role in implementing History.  The courts, he said, should still act to “restrain unwise legislative action” unfounded “upon adequately ascertained facts.”

Why have progressive jurists inclined toward the third role?  Why have they proved so  unwilling to remain laboratory assistants—faithful to the democratic Zeitgeist and deferential to the social scientists?  The answer may lie not in progressive thought, but in a very non-progressive notion: the intractable vanity and ambition of human nature.

David Upham is assistant professor of politics at the University of Dallas.

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Comments

  1. says

    Professor Upham’s conclusion is undoubtably correct-Judicial behavior is as likely to be affected by subjective character as a more objective philosophy. There is more of interest to be observed here however, and that is the mechanism that underlies the folly.

    “Political” entities are concerned with two related but distinct entities: authority and influence. Ideally, influence precedes authority. Judges however are delegated authority by fiat. Whether or not they have influence depends on the content of their thoughts and pronouncements. Zeitgeist, is simply a snapshot of the effects of influence; what has affected the thoughts of the broader population. This creates a conundrum for the progressive: what if the progressive dogma is not reflected sufficiently in popular sentiment too serve as a justification for judicial meddling; what if the progressive project requires bucking popular sentiment? This is where the progressive becomes a fan of science and pseudoscience. Science is presumed to be objective, beyond the reproach of all except the cranks, knuckle-draggers , the gullible and the pathologically superstitious. Science is a surrogate for influence; if you can’t make your case rationally, allude to some vague and inpenetrable “scientific” principle propounded by a credentialed ideologue and dare your opponents to dispute it.

    In this fashion, the progressive converts the daunting and tedious task of convincing people on the merits, i.e. influencing the zeitgeist, with simply demonizing opponents. You do not need to convince people that the earth is warming due to human activity, you simply have to argue that there is something wrong with them if they don’t agree that it is fact. You need not dissuade on the merits of traditional marriage if you merely allege the pseudoscientific principle that defense of such institutions is the result of superstition, bad character and the Swiss Army Knife of progressive discourse, hate.

    The end point of this relativist judicial con is not to ensure that government is a “‘living’ thing, and thus ‘constantly changing and developing to meet new conditions and to accomplish new purposes.’” It is rather to ensure that that an insular and timid group of people who are made queasy and anxious by the freedoms and ambitions of their neighbors can invoke the force of government to console them in their fears.

  2. David Upham says

    I think it’s fair to say that progressive have lost some of their predecessors’ faith in the people. After all, the referendum was not designed, say, to roll back property taxes or reaffirm traditional marriage, but in California, at least, such referenda have been widely denounced. Still, faith in the times, the authority of the zeitgeist, was reaffirmed in the 1960s, and still plays a major role in progressive rhetoric.

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