There is nothing in American politics quite like the announcement of a Supreme Court opinion. The justices give no hints as to what opinions they will choose to announce on any given decision day; nor, other than in oral arguments, do they give any hint as to how they will decide a particular case. Other political events have warnings: we know what day Congress will vote on a particular bill, and the only mystery in such an event is the number of votes on a yes-or-no question; members of Congress do not write treatises on why they voted a particular way on a particular bill. Even summaries of State of the Union addresses are provided in advance.
Supreme Court opinions descend upon us from out of the blue. Nobody, not even a veteran Supreme Court reporter, knows what an opinion will say. Furthermore, the Internet has put virtually everyone on an equal playing field; those who are in the courtroom when the justices announce their decisions have a slight head start, as there is still no live TV or radio coverage of the announcements, but no longer do we have to rely on reporters and analysts to interpret the decisions for us, for they are posted on the Web mere minutes after they are announced; a written opinion will appear here, for instance, while other opinions are still being read from the bench. At 9:59 in the morning, an opinion is still a mystery, but by 10:10, it can be read and analyzed and parsed all over the world. All of us can download the opinions (and the dissents and concurrences, too), in either HTML or, more spectacularly, in PDF, and read the words for ourselves. I’m still blown away by the fact that on the morning of June 23, 2003, I can hold in my hands a Supreme Court opinion dated June 23, 2003. Linda Greenhouse doesn’t get to read it any sooner than the rest of us do.
I still hold a childlike sense of wonder that such things are possible today.
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