On June 7th, federal judges from the District of Massachusetts and the First Circuit, along with one Justice of the Supreme Court, several non-judicial dignitaries, approximately 50 former law clerks, family, and friends, gathered in the John Joseph Moakley United States Courthouse in Boston's Seaport District to say goodbye to United States District Judge Joseph L. Tauro. The judge, for whom I had the great privilege of serving as law clerk from 1979 to 1980, had passed away in November after a long illness, and on this beautiful day at a beautiful venue overlooking Boston Harbor, those of us who knew and loved him finally had the opportunity to come together to pay our respects.
Judge Tauro served more than 40 years on the bench and was a man of his times - a Nixon-appointed Republican who loved sporty cars, the music of Frank Sinatra, and the politics of Ronald Reagan. Yet he also was a man for all times, someone who believed in the power of his office, armed with the commitment to individual liberties enshrined in the Constitution, to eradicate much of the suffering inflicted upon the weak and vulnerable by the misfeasance or, often, the nonfeasance of government actors.
He protected the vulnerable when he brokered and enforced a consent decree to reform and ultimately close what were then known as the state schools for the mentally retarded, not primarily because of abstract principles of constitutional law, but more because he witnessed first hand the disgusting, inhumane treatment of the schools' residents by their neglectful superintendents. He did so again when he ruled unconstitutional the forced administration of psychotropic drugs on mental health patients at Boston State Hospital (freedom of speech implies, he said, freedom of thought, a right of which the patients were deprived by the mind-altering medications thrust upon them). Decades later, and true to form, Judge Tauro became the first federal judge to rule the Defense of Marriage Act unconstitutional because it deprived gay citizens of the benefits and privileges of marriage.
I had the special privilege of clerking for Judge Tauro during some of the key moments of his long tenure as a District Judge -- shortly after the entry of the schools' consent decree and in the early years of its enforcement, and while he was putting the finishing touches on his Boston State Hospital opinion. I'm sure I appreciated the significance of that moment in time, but the years since have made me appreciate it all the more.
Several years ago, I was interviewed by a Boston attorney-turned-writer commissioned by the district court to pen a biography of the judge. I told him that what always impressed me was the judge's strong commitment to constitutional rights. I remain impressed by that commitment, but I view it today through a slightly different prism. What motivated the judge was not constitutional theory as an intellectual exercise, but rather a down-to-earth, core humanity that drove him to want to eradicate the senseless suffering of innocent victims -- those who had been cast out of society because of mental or physical challenges, or because they identified as members of groups disfavored by those in power. And he understood that, as a federal judge armed with the Bill of Rights, he possessed the power to protect those who could not protect themselves from the dehumanizing abuses of state actors.
We lawyers like to cite statutes, rules, and judicial precedents in support of our clients' positions. We apply reasoned and logical arguments to the facts with which we are presented, as we have been taught to do. We expect judges and juries to base their decisions on reason and logic as well. But that is only part of the picture. Underlying the reasoned principles of our laws and constitution are the very real human consequences of legislative and judicial decision-making. Judge Tauro had an uncanny ability to cut through the lofty arguments of counsel and to understand the impacts his rulings would have on real people. And when he was presented with a case in which he perceived that a policy or practice of state or federal government was causing needless pain and suffering to those appearing before him, he would not hesitate to act boldly on their behalf.
I never had the opportunity to speak with Judge Tauro about today's humanitarian crisis at the southern border, but everything I know about him tells me that he would not have tolerated for one minute the caging of children and their separation from their families. In his mind, it would not have been complicated -- a government that separates children from their parents and forces them to live in cages is a government that has abused its power -- and he would have found an eloquent way to explain why the values embodied in our constitution and laws do not remotely permit such cruelty. And he would have been right.
I once read that one important function of government is to protect the weak from the strong. That, after all, is what our Bill of Rights was designed to do. When those in government apply the law to improve the human experience, especially of society's weakest and most vulnerable -- and not to aggrandize power, fill their pockets, or advance ideologies -- America is at its best and our democracy is at its strongest. Judge Tauro understood that principle, and when wearing the robe, he embodied it. Not every judge has the vision or boldness of Judge Tauro, but I hope and believe that most judges have a similar understanding of their crucial role in protecting human liberty. That hope in our judiciary is often one of the only things standing between me and despair for the future of our nation.
Judge Tauro served more than 40 years on the bench and was a man of his times - a Nixon-appointed Republican who loved sporty cars, the music of Frank Sinatra, and the politics of Ronald Reagan. Yet he also was a man for all times, someone who believed in the power of his office, armed with the commitment to individual liberties enshrined in the Constitution, to eradicate much of the suffering inflicted upon the weak and vulnerable by the misfeasance or, often, the nonfeasance of government actors.
He protected the vulnerable when he brokered and enforced a consent decree to reform and ultimately close what were then known as the state schools for the mentally retarded, not primarily because of abstract principles of constitutional law, but more because he witnessed first hand the disgusting, inhumane treatment of the schools' residents by their neglectful superintendents. He did so again when he ruled unconstitutional the forced administration of psychotropic drugs on mental health patients at Boston State Hospital (freedom of speech implies, he said, freedom of thought, a right of which the patients were deprived by the mind-altering medications thrust upon them). Decades later, and true to form, Judge Tauro became the first federal judge to rule the Defense of Marriage Act unconstitutional because it deprived gay citizens of the benefits and privileges of marriage.
I had the special privilege of clerking for Judge Tauro during some of the key moments of his long tenure as a District Judge -- shortly after the entry of the schools' consent decree and in the early years of its enforcement, and while he was putting the finishing touches on his Boston State Hospital opinion. I'm sure I appreciated the significance of that moment in time, but the years since have made me appreciate it all the more.
Several years ago, I was interviewed by a Boston attorney-turned-writer commissioned by the district court to pen a biography of the judge. I told him that what always impressed me was the judge's strong commitment to constitutional rights. I remain impressed by that commitment, but I view it today through a slightly different prism. What motivated the judge was not constitutional theory as an intellectual exercise, but rather a down-to-earth, core humanity that drove him to want to eradicate the senseless suffering of innocent victims -- those who had been cast out of society because of mental or physical challenges, or because they identified as members of groups disfavored by those in power. And he understood that, as a federal judge armed with the Bill of Rights, he possessed the power to protect those who could not protect themselves from the dehumanizing abuses of state actors.
We lawyers like to cite statutes, rules, and judicial precedents in support of our clients' positions. We apply reasoned and logical arguments to the facts with which we are presented, as we have been taught to do. We expect judges and juries to base their decisions on reason and logic as well. But that is only part of the picture. Underlying the reasoned principles of our laws and constitution are the very real human consequences of legislative and judicial decision-making. Judge Tauro had an uncanny ability to cut through the lofty arguments of counsel and to understand the impacts his rulings would have on real people. And when he was presented with a case in which he perceived that a policy or practice of state or federal government was causing needless pain and suffering to those appearing before him, he would not hesitate to act boldly on their behalf.
I never had the opportunity to speak with Judge Tauro about today's humanitarian crisis at the southern border, but everything I know about him tells me that he would not have tolerated for one minute the caging of children and their separation from their families. In his mind, it would not have been complicated -- a government that separates children from their parents and forces them to live in cages is a government that has abused its power -- and he would have found an eloquent way to explain why the values embodied in our constitution and laws do not remotely permit such cruelty. And he would have been right.
I once read that one important function of government is to protect the weak from the strong. That, after all, is what our Bill of Rights was designed to do. When those in government apply the law to improve the human experience, especially of society's weakest and most vulnerable -- and not to aggrandize power, fill their pockets, or advance ideologies -- America is at its best and our democracy is at its strongest. Judge Tauro understood that principle, and when wearing the robe, he embodied it. Not every judge has the vision or boldness of Judge Tauro, but I hope and believe that most judges have a similar understanding of their crucial role in protecting human liberty. That hope in our judiciary is often one of the only things standing between me and despair for the future of our nation.
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