Not my precedent
Back in 1979, California cattle rancher George Neary allowed federal and state agricultural agencies to treat his cattle for what he believed was an infestation of the scabies mite. He then claimed that they improperly used an insecticide that killed over 90 percent percent of his animals, and he allowed veterinarians from the University of California to investigate the matter. Three vets reviewed the case and then (over Neary’s objections) published their findings in a university journal, concluding that Neary’s “cow problem” (as one early court ruling put it) was his fault, not insecticide poisoning.
Neary sued the university and the three veterinarians, claiming the report harmed his reputation. After a trial that lasted four months, the jury awarded Neary $7 million in damages against the university and the vets, finding that they had, indeed, harmed Neary’s reputation. The defendants appealed, but while the case was on appeal, the parties reached a settlement. One of its terms was that the jury verdict finding that the veterinarians had harmed Neary’s reputation would be expunged. This part of the settlement was especially important to the veterinarians, who felt (with some irony) that the verdict had harmed their reputations.
Well, the parties might have thought that their dispute was over, but the Court of Appeal didn’t quite see it that way. In a 1991 opinion by Justice Anthony Kline, the court refused to allow the settlement to reverse the lower court decision.
Why not? Glad you asked. Justice Kline explained: “the process of trial…is the way in which our society establishes legal truth,” and “The duty of the judicial branch is not to satisfy the parties that appear before it, or even society at large, but to say what the law is and apply it in particular cases.” In other words, the people who bring their disputes to court are less important than judges having interesting issues to decide.
In 1992, however, the California Supreme Court overturned Kline’s decision, stating, “The appellate courts have enough to do without deciding cases the parties no longer wish to litigate,” and, “The courts exist for litigants. Litigants do not exist for courts.”
Justice Kline took that reversal hard. Very hard. Too hard, in fact. First, he lobbied the Legislature to overturn the decision (an odd thing for a judge to do in the first place). And the Legislature initially passed that bill, but the then-Republican Governor vetoed it.
And then he really put himself into hot water. In 1998, he refused to sign an order reversing a judgment that the parties in a case had agreed to, and as permitted by that 1992 California Supreme Court decision that Justice Kline so despised. Instead, he wrote a dissenting opinion saying that he could not in good conscience follow a decision — even a decision of a higher court that established a binding precedent — that he believed was wrong.
The Commission on Judicial Performance, which has the power to suspend or even to remove judges if it concludes that the judge has committed misconduct, then began proceedings to discipline Justice Kline for refusing to follow a higher court’s decision. Kline had his defenders — other judges and lawyers who applauded him for a “principled stand.” But there were also many commentators who argued that, if judges simply disregarded the rulings of higher courts, all that Kline really was doing was inviting chaos.
And it was expensive for Justice Kline, who had to pay all his own legal fees, because the ethical rules applicable to judges prohibited him from establishing a “legal defense fund.”
Where was “Go Fund Me” when you needed it?
What was unusual about the Commission’s action was that it was the first (and thus far, only) time that that it considered disciplining a judge because of a court ruling, not misconduct such as accepting a bribe, committing a crime while off-duty, or abusing the contempt power. Eventually, in 1999, after a closed-door hearing, the Commission dropped the proceedings against Justice Kline.
And, in a way, Kline won the war. When a new governor was elected, the Legislature again passed a new law allowing only the courts — not the parties — to decide whether to settle a case on appeal, at least when that settlement involves an agreement to reverse the lower court’s ruling.
So remember: if you’re ever unlucky enough to get in a legal dispute and it ends up before the court of appeal, you’re no longer in control of your own fate. Because now, courts in fact do not exist for litigants; instead, litigants exist for the court.