Retired Supreme Court Justice David Hackett Souter never sought the spotlight. Appointed by President George H. W. Bush in 1990, he forged a quietly independent course on the Court, one defined by a meticulous, case-by-case search for the “real problems of real people.” His colleagues remember a modern incarnation of a 19th-century craftsman who prized humility, reason, and a spare prose style that still feels fresh in a digital age of viral dissents and snarky footnotes.
A Common-Law Mind in a Sound-Bite Era
Dean Heather Gerken of Yale Law School calls Souter “the Court’s greatest common-law judge,” high praise that captures both his method and his manner. Rather than cloaking himself in sweeping theories, he moved doctrine forward incrementally, trusting that sturdy principles emerge case by case. In the words of one former clerk, the Justice “believed strongly in proceeding one case at a time, letting the law evolve slowly rather than in big, bold pronouncements.”
That steady, cautious, and humane judicial temperament mirrored a prose style that sought the reader’s trust, not applause. In an era of headline-ready opinions, he refused to weaponize rhetoric. No “zingers.” No harsh personal jabs. Just lucid paragraphs anchored in precedent and policy.
Four Excerpts, Four Lessons
In his memorial essay, Ross Guberman highlights four passages that distill Souter’s gift for clarity without clang. Each teaches modern advocates something new.
1. Georgia v. Randolph (2006)
“No sensible person would enter shared premises based on one occupant’s invitation when a fellow tenant said to stay out.”
Lesson → Anchor abstract doctrine in a concrete, relatable metaphor.
2. Gratz v. Bollinger (2003) — Dissent
“Equal protection cannot become an exercise in which the winners are the ones who hide the ball.”
Lesson → Use colloquial fairness to cut through technical complexity.
3. Planned Parenthood v. Casey (1992)
“… a respect for precedent is, by definition, indispensable.”
Lesson → Reserve elevated cadence for foundational, first principle arguments.
4. Bush v. Gore (2000) — Dissent
“I can conceive of no legitimate state interest served by these different treatments of voters’ fundamental rights.”
Lesson → Express passion in measured, reasoned terms, even in moments of crisis.
Habits as Humble as His Prose
Justice Souter’s private routine reads like a manual in disciplined austerity, or stoicism:
- Lunch of yogurt and an apple—core included.
- Lights off until dusk. “He never really caught up to electricity,” one clerk joked.
- Weekends in chambers, often writing longhand with a fountain pen.
- Dogged resistance to cameras: “The day you see a camera come into our courtroom, it’s going to roll over my dead body.”
He preferred New Hampshire’s White Mountains to Washington’s marble. When he retired in 2009, at a spry 69, he cited the promise of more books to read and more peaks to climb.
Independence in Numbers
Across nearly two decades and hundreds of 5-4 splits, Souter voted with the Court’s liberal block in two-thirds of divided cases, according to empirical scholars. Yet the “liberal” moniker is only part of the story. He famously joined Justices Anthony Kennedy and Sandra Day O’Connor in forging the Planned Parenthood v. Casey compromise that reaffirmed Roe’s core while revising its doctrine. He dissented, quietly but firmly, in Bush v. Gore, a case whose outcome reportedly brought him to tears whenever he thought about it.
Just as notable is how he built his chambers. Judge Kevin Newsom, now on the Eleventh Circuit, recalls being hired even though he and the justice “saw law and judging differently”: “He never wanted to hear what I thought he would think; he wanted to know, in all honesty, what I thought.” That open-mindedness may be Justice Souter’s most underappreciated legacy.
Remembering the Man
On the bench, Souter addressed colleagues in gently accented tones, often starting questions with a courteous “Mr. Chief Justice.” Off the bench, he hiked, devoured history books, and delighted in conversation. When Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg died in 2020, Souter’s simple tribute captured both his warmth and his brevity: “I loved her to pieces.”
In his retirement announcement, he told his eight colleagues:
“I will not sit with you at our bench after the Court rises for the summer this time, but neither will I retire from our friendship… For as long as I live, I will be thankful for it.”
We, too, admire the friendship he modeled between reason and restraint, a prose style that treated readers as partners, and a judicial life that proved humility can be a form of power.