You Be The Judge...

Few Americans realize just how much other countries watch them. Whatever is happening in the States will be seen by the majority of the world's population and will be approved of or castigated according to each country's stance towards the US. Just as an instance, few foreigners will be unaware of the recent trial of Michael Jackson and its outcome, and most of them will have opinions on the judgement. Yet how many of us would be aware of any similar charges brought against a pop star in France or Australia, for instance? Only America is subject to such intense scrutiny by friend and foe. And only America is as well known in so many aspects.

The reasons for this are fairly obvious: the dominance of the American film industry means that most films shown abroad originate in and are about America; the importance of the States in world affairs means that all countries have to be interested in what is happening there; the internationalism of large American corporations means that their products will be advertised everywhere. But these sources of information can sometimes produce false impressions in foreign observers.

An example of this comes from my experience of working with 14 to 16 year old kids in Britain: they were all convinced that America was a land of constant shootings, murders, car theft and bank robberies and they refused to believe that Kathy had never witnessed even one of these events. Although it's true that their warped values made them regard this as cool (America is always the land where the streets are paved with gold, it seems), it is also true that theirs was a valid conclusion on the evidence they had. The action movies and news reports that they saw were full of such events and no mention was ever made of rural and small town America where nothing much ever happens.

So the world's view of America is formed largely by the media and will be accurate in some respects and grossly distorted in others. I have mentioned elsewhere that no foreigner understands the American electoral process even though every presidential election is followed closely in most countries. In Britain we regard the matter as mystifying but entertaining, typically American in its noise and hype, its banner-waving and partying (well, it looks like a party to us). We have no understanding of the issues involved and would be quite well-informed even to know that the Democrats are liberals and the Republicans conservative.

Very strong impressions of the American legal system are formed as well. All foreigners are astounded at the huge amounts of money awarded in damages cases in the States. It seems beyond reason that millions of dollars are at stake when someone slips and hurts themself on a company forecourt. Yet the point is taken in places like Britain and damages can now get into the thousands instead of the few hundred previously awarded. Even so, you would be more likely to receive a large award in a slander or libel case than you would in a matter of mere physical injury.

Celebrity trials are another area of amazement for the foreigner. To see the evidence debated over and over again by the media, the lawyers putting their cases to the cameras and the fans demonstrating outside the court makes it seem very much like a party again. Such a circus would not be allowed in Britain, where things are kept much more under wraps until after judgement has been given. And, as Natalee Holloway's case has highlighted, the Dutch keep things even farther away from the public gaze.

To some extent, these differences are a matter of style. In America the public has a right to know and they exercise that right; elsewhere the public has a right to let the professionals get on with it and to be advised after the event. There are advantages and disadvantages to both systems. The foreigner can look on at American celebrity trials and damages cases with amusement but there will be a recognition that it's a way of doing things that is as valid as any other.

But there is one thing about the American judicial system that scandalizes the Brits at least: the political appointment of judges to the Supreme Court. One of the cornerstones to the British legal system is that it be non-political; it is there to interpret the law and hand down judgement without consideration of any possible political ramifications. Judges are appointed from within the legal system and by the legal system and their political stance is not a factor or even known. They will be those lawyers who have had long and distinguished careers and who have demonstrated their ability to reach judgements based upon the law alone (without regard for their personal preferences, in other words).

This is a principle as sacred to the British as the separation of church and state is to the Americans. The intent is that political considerations have no place in interpretation of the law. Politicians may make the laws but it is the job of the legal system to interpret and apply those laws; let the lawmakers be clear in what they intend, therefore.

The system has worked well for hundreds of years. Politicians, be they king, commons or lords, have been unable to interfere with the decisions of the courts. Lately there has been some complaint from the political left that judges are invariably old when appointed and are therefore more likely to be conservative in their judgements. But that is how it should be; the interpretation of law is hardly the place to experiment with wild and wacky new ideas that may or may not work. Let the left change the laws when they are in power and the courts will do their duty and interpret them.

The end result of all this is that any Britisher finds it hard to get his head around the American idea of political appointment of judges. I have found it as difficult to understand as I have found it to get used to bread that tastes sweet. With the resignation of Sandra Day O'Connor from the Supreme Court, I now watch a process that, to be honest, merely deepens my incomprehension.

There are, apparently, nine judges on the Supreme Court bench: four conservatives (Republican appointees), four liberals (Democrat appointees) and Sandra Day O'Connor who, although appointed by a Republican president, has proved to be the swing voter in most decisions, being unpredictable upon which side of the fence she would opt for. We can now expect a summer of conflict as the President tries to get the Senate to confirm whoever he chooses to nominate as her successor. Being a Republican, he is expected to nominate a conservative; the Democrat minority in the Senate will fight this tooth and nail, no doubt.

I am told that a part of this fight will be the questions that the Democrats will put to the nominee: they will ask him which way he would vote on certain contentious issues. Excuse me? My mind boggles at the implications of this. I thought the idea of having a Supreme Court was that it would interpret the most difficult and complex laws on the statute books. Are you now saying that you will not have a judge if he doesn't interpret things the way you see fit? Doesn't that make you the highest court in the land? And what experience of the law have you to qualify for such a position?

This is all too much for a poor foreigner to understand. Can someone please explain to me (as simply as possible please) what this is all about? And, while you're at it, give me a few hints as to the benefits of having politically appointed judges in the first place...