Our Constitution exists to secure individual freedom, the essential condition of human flourishing. Liberty is not provided by government; liberty preexists government. It's our natural birthright, not a gift from the sovereign. Our founders upended things and divided power to enshrine a promise, not a process.
If you're a Texas Supreme Court Justice hopscotching across 254 counties, trying to tattoo your name onto the noggins of millions of voters, you must find creative ways to raise visibility and build awareness. Twitter, Facebook, etc. are low-cost but high-yield ways to leverage the support of key influencers and opinion leaders.
Serving 27 million Texans spread across 254 counties and two time zones isn't a job for those who require a lot of sleep.
If judicial review means anything, it is that judicial restraint does not allow everything.
Re-election comes every six years, which explains why I spend so much time on Twitter. If you're an obscure judge whose name ID hovers between infinitesimal and zilch, it's political malpractice to neglect social media. I'm probably the tweetingest judge in America, which, admittedly, is like being the tallest Munchkin in Oz.
The judiciary wields enormous power but is utterly mysterious to most Americans. People know more about 'American Idol' judges than Supreme Court judges. Done right, social media is a high-octane tool to boost civic awareness.
Would I tweet if I didn't run for office? Maybe, but I'd certainly use Twitter to stay abreast of warp-speed happenings in the world and to enjoy the musings of smart, fascinating people. Twitter is a neat, one-stop compilation of smart, incisive viewpoints on every imaginable topic from a riveting cross-section of folks.
One truth I've learned as a father: Children want presence more than presents. They don't want to read about you; they want you.
When writing, I split my time between my chambers and my satellite office: my neighborhood Chick-fil-A. It offers the word-nerd trifecta: I bring Bose headphones; they provide Wi-Fi and waffle fries.
In parenting, as in judging, the days are long, but the years are short.
I think people just find it remarkable that a high court justice would step out from behind the bench and have a persona that's not the traditional, stodgy, fuddy-duddy persona, but actually comes across as authentic and engaging.
My political consultant said I'm the only client of his that he does not worry about.
Usually what goes through my mind before I hit the tweet button is, did I misspell or mis-grammatize anything, but also, is this worth polluting the interwebs with for posterity?
Unlike tennis matches, Supreme Court decisions are tiebreaker-free, meaning the lower-court ruling stands without any high-court guidance.
Laws that impinge your constitutionally protected right to earn an honest living must not be preposterous.
Judges should always behave judicially by adjudicating, never politically by legislating. I leave policy to policymakers. They're preeminent, but they're not omnipotent. In other words, lawmakers decide if laws pass, but judges decide if laws pass muster.
I've long favored smart judicial-selection reform - every member of my court does - and every legislative session, reform measures are filed... and then they fail.
If you're president, it's often your court appointments that seal your legacy with a capital L.
I was recently designated Tweeter Laureate of Texas, which apparently is a thing.
Folks are astounded that 'judge' isn't a synonym for 'humorless Luddite.'
