The Supreme Court’s 38-Minute Decision: A Modern Literacy Test?
What does it say about our justice system when the highest court in the land can issue a ruling in the time it takes to brew a pot of coffee? This week’s decision in Allen v. Milligan, allowing Alabama to redraw district lines mid-election, has left me—and many others—scratching our heads. Not just because of the ruling itself, but because of the speed at which it was delivered. Thirty-eight minutes. That’s all it took for nine justices to digest 107 pages of legal arguments, deliberate, and issue an order that could reshape Alabama’s political landscape for decades. Personally, I think this raises a deeper question: Are we witnessing the erosion of judicial diligence, or is this a symptom of something far more troubling?
The Illusion of Impartiality
Chief Justice John Roberts recently lamented that the public views the Supreme Court as ‘political actors’ rather than impartial arbiters of the law. ‘We’re not making policy,’ he insists, ‘we’re saying what the law provides.’ But here’s the thing: If you take a step back and think about it, the Allen v. Milligan decision feels less like a legal ruling and more like a political maneuver. What many people don’t realize is that the speed of this decision undermines the very notion of careful consideration. It’s as if the outcome was predetermined, and the plaintiffs’ 107-page response was little more than a formality. This isn’t justice—it’s theater.
One thing that immediately stands out is the parallel to Jim Crow-era literacy tests. Back then, registrars would pose impossible questions to Black voters, knowing full well the answers didn’t matter. The outcome was decided before the question was even asked. Sound familiar? In my opinion, the Supreme Court’s 38-minute decision operates on a similar principle. The ‘examiner’—in this case, the justices—doesn’t need to wait for the answer because the result is already known. What this really suggests is that the Court’s process is becoming less about justice and more about maintaining power.
The Dissent: A Five-Page Protest
A detail that I find especially interesting is the dissent. While the majority issued a one-paragraph order, the minority wrote a five-page dissent. Does this mean the dissenters took their time to thoughtfully consider the case? Or were they simply going through the motions, knowing their voices would be drowned out? From my perspective, the dissent feels like a symbolic gesture—a way to save face while the Court rushes to deliver a politically expedient ruling. It’s a reminder that even within the Court, there’s a divide between those who prioritize process and those who prioritize outcomes.
The Broader Implications
If you ask me, this case is about more than just Alabama’s district lines. It’s about the integrity of our judicial system. When the Supreme Court can issue a ruling in 38 minutes, it sends a message: that speed trumps thoroughness, and politics trumps principle. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it reflects a broader trend in American governance—the erosion of trust in institutions. People are increasingly skeptical of the Court’s impartiality, and decisions like this only fuel that skepticism. In my opinion, Roberts’s insistence that the Court is apolitical rings hollow when its actions so clearly align with partisan interests.
A Modern Literacy Test?
I can’t help but draw a direct line between the Court’s decision and the Jim Crow literacy tests of the past. Both are mechanisms of control, designed to maintain the status quo under the guise of legality. The registrar in Hale County didn’t care about the answers to his questions; he cared about keeping certain people from voting. Similarly, the Supreme Court didn’t need 107 pages of arguments to make its decision. The plaintiffs’ response was never the point. What this really suggests is that the Court is becoming a modern-day registrar, wielding its power to shape political outcomes rather than uphold the law.
Final Thoughts
As I reflect on Allen v. Milligan, I’m struck by how much it reveals about the state of our judiciary. Thirty-eight minutes isn’t just a measure of time—it’s a measure of the Court’s priorities. Personally, I think this decision should serve as a wake-up call. If the Supreme Court continues down this path, it risks losing the public’s trust entirely. And once that trust is gone, it’s not coming back. So, the next time Roberts insists the Court is above politics, remember the 38-minute decision. Because, in my opinion, that’s all the proof we need.
