Well, here we go
again. With Neil Gorsuch as the current Supreme Court nominee, once more we
hear praises of “originalism” as a judicial interpretive philosophy. As Gorsuch
puts it, judges should “apply the law as it is, focusing
backward, not forward, and looking to text, structure, and history to decide
what a reasonable reader at the time of the events in question would have
understood the law to be . . . .” Since law generally looks forward
to govern future and not past behavior, and since context drives meaning in
much more complex ways than Gorsuch’s words suggest, I’m amazed that people take
this backward-looking and overly-simplistic philosophy seriously. I’ve written at length about the problems
with such an approach but now also wonder if an old painting might
more quickly dispatch such error.
What might
originalists learn from an old painting? What might they learn from “Landscape
with the Fall of Icarus,” a work often attributed to Bruegel? Viewed on its
face alone, the work is a hodgepodge of images such as those of a man with his
horse and plow, of more people, of furrows, of sheep, of a tree, of rocks, of a
sailboat, of a leg sticking out of the water, and of a sun diffused by clouds
and sea. What is fascinating about all that? How could that odd medley have
inspired such great poetry as Auden’s “Musée Des Beaux Arts”?
The painting must have “spoken” to Auden in profound ways but how do we find
the message? (Yes, people speak with images as well as words. Images as signs
can convey meaning symbolically like words and can also convey meaning through
resemblance with what they represent.)
Do we find the
message by looking up dictionary definitions from Bruegel’s time of “man,”
“horse,” “plow,” “furrows,” “sheep,” “other people,” “tree,” “rocks,”
“sailboat,” “leg,” “diffuse sun,” “clouds,” and “sea”? Of course not. That
would just leave us with a disconnected list of of multiple possible
definitions for each such term. Additionally, the definition lists would vary
by dictionaries consulted. If we were interpreting a similar modern painting,
for example, the current fourth edition of the American Heritage College
Dictionary has no fewer than 15 definitions of “man” as a noun. So many choices
across terms facilitates rather than limits interpretive “activism.” The
conservative interpreter can pick the definitions that fit the conservative
interpreter’s worldview, ignore conflicting alternative definitions of terms,
and yet still claim to follow the “original” sense of the terms defined. The
liberal interpreter can do the same and reach a conflicting result that also
claim to follow the “original” sense of the terms. It’s hard to see how this
can be a serious interpretive philosophy. In any case, it encourages rather
than discourages interpretive “activism.”
That said, to seek
the artist’s meaning, we must of course consider the images. However, we must
also look at all the available evidence of the artist’s meaning
when we interpret those images. The title tells us the painting is about the
fall of Icarus. This points us to a conceptual and literary context that
supplements, for example, the plowman focusing on his plowing. Now and only now
can we see the likely “literal” subject of the painting: a world focused on its
own pursuits while missing the exuberant rise and tragic fall of a boy who
briefly flew. Thus, the painting has no “literal” meaning in itself. We have to
go out and reconstruct what the painter meant. Nor does the painting in itself
simply give us a likely deeper meaning intended by the artist. To find that
deeper meaning, we must further contextualize the images. As moral yet ephemeral
agents, how should we react to what we know is the ignored tragedy of Icarus?
Morally, shouldn’t the plowman regret his indifferent behavior? Additionally,
having only brief and fragile lives, shouldn’t we be horrified, chilled, and
humbled by what happened to Icarus? If the world doesn’t give a damn about a
child who amazingly flew and then streaked down the sky, how can it give a damn
about us? Isn’t there therefore a deeper message that we should notice the
suffering of others, that we should help them to the extent we can (an ability
which of course can change as eras progress), and that this is in our own
self-interest lest we, too, be left to drown?
What might
originalists who purport to focus on “plain” and “original” text learn from all
of this? Quite a bit. Words are signs as well. They, too, must therefore be
interpreted in all their contexts including their cognitive, physical,
temporal, social, cultural, human, discourse, textual, and purpose contexts.
Furthermore, like legislators who would govern future behavior, artists paint
forward, not backwards. Artists know that those who come next are the ones who
view their paintings. Those who came before of course cannot be viewers. If the
artist’s purpose is to speak to the future including us, why would we freeze
the artist’s message in the past? Wouldn’t we be foolish to say, for example,
that the artist’s message wouldn’t laud such helpful programs as Medicare since
the artist couldn’t have known of Medicare? Wouldn’t that contradict the
artist’s very moral message? A principle of charity and kindness is not limited
to the means of charity and kindness available at the time the principle
happens to be uttered. Similarly, if we have a right to free speech, that of
course includes email though the founders had no more inkling of email than our
artist had of Medicare. We could try to “fix” this by arbitrarily
saying that technology is somehow excepted from the originalist freeze
but that hardly satisfies an honest and reasonable mind. And the problems go
deeper still. If we operate in a freeze, how does the Constitution’s Preamble
“We the People of the United States” refer to fifty states instead of the
original thirteen? Don’t we have to somehow re-ratify that exact same language
to expand the club? But even if we do so, wouldn’t we have the exact same
language we had before? Isn’t this at the very least odd—especially when
originalists purport to focus on words? Maybe the difference now would be that
we can update our sets of dictionaries and pick out our favorite definitions
from these new books? In the same vein, does Congress have to repass the same
legislation daily so that such legislation can fully apply to the present? But
again, if so, what changed other than the dictionaries we could now use in our
activist judicial philosophy? Does a modern artist have to repaint the exact
same image of Icarus falling so the deep message can now laud Medicare? But if
the exact same image lauds Medicare, what does the second painting add? Here
maybe we switch to encyclopedias which confirm Medicare exists at the time of
the second painting? Maybe we can also pick and choose what we like from the
encyclopedias to form our conclusions? Ironically, Gorsuch claims to focus on
“reasonable readers.” However, reasonable people don’t think and use language
in the odd, arbitrary, and overly-activist ways originalism would require. We
need to think long and hard before we give a Supreme Court seat to anyone who
thinks or claims otherwise.
ReplyDeleteDiscover a contemporary version of "The Fall of Icarus" by a french artist.
This myth symbolizes the tendency of man to always want to push the limits, but also embodies the symbol of human presumption in the face of nature. To discover on : https://1011-art.blogspot.com/p/icare.html