My research focuses on what I call the “clerkship institution,” namely, the rules and norms that surround the hiring and utilization of Supreme Court law clerks. Specifically, I draw upon principal-agent theory to generate and test hypotheses as to the evolution of the clerkship institution over the last 120 years. While I’m interested in the question of law clerk influence, I submit that the influence debate cannot be resolved until we first have a comprehensive picture of the rules and norms that surround and confine the law clerk as well as an appreciation of how these rules and norms have evolved.
If I were to summarize in one word what United States Supreme Court law clerks are like as research subjects, it would be “challenging.” Books like The Brethren and Closed Chambers have not helped pull the reluctant law clerk out of the shadows of the Marble Palace.
At
first glance, the data regarding United States Supreme Court law clerks
appears plentiful. Law reviews and legal history journals are replete
with articles written by former law clerks about their experiences on
the Supreme Court. For example, the death of a former justice
inevitably brings a deluge of testimonials from law clerks in which the
former assistants fondly recall their year at the Supreme Court and
predict that their justice will be remembered in the same breath as
Marshall, Holmes, and Brandeis.
From
the perspective of a social scientist who is studying the clerkship
institution, however, such articles are not rich in useful data. Any
information provided about the justices’ hiring and utilization
practices is limited and suspect. To begin with, since the late 1980’s
the modern law clerk has been bound by a written code of conduct that
survives the end of the clerkship. While earlier generations of law
clerks received informal lectures from their justices as to their
fiduciary duties, today’s law clerks must sign an ethical code of
conduct that includes specific rules regarding the ongoing duty of
confidentiality as well as warnings of termination if such ethical
canons are breached. Therefore even former law clerks are chilled from
revealing too much information about the Supreme Court. Moreover, even
the most candid article provides only limited data because the clerk’s
observations about the clerkship institution are time-bound and limited
to a particular chambers.
From
the beginning, I realized that any project that provided valuable
insights into the evolution of the clerkship institution would require
a researcher to collect original data from law clerks from different
chambers and across the 120 year span of the clerkship institution. In
other words, a social scientist would need a representative sample of
law clerks who would talk freely and honestly about their clerkship
experiences. Had I realized how daunting it would be to collect this
representative sample, I have no doubt that I would never have embarked
on my hunt for the elusive law clerk.
I
knew I could not get a true random sample of law clerks to interview
because I could not randomly draw from the entire population of former
law clerks. For example, all law clerks from the first fifty years of
the clerkship institution (1882 to 1932) save one (former Stone law
clerk Wilbur Friedman) were deceased, and only a handful had written
accounts of the clerkships. And I had serious doubts whether recent
members of the clerkship corps would be willing to chat with me.
Nevertheless, I obtained a list of former law clerks from the Supreme
Court Public Information Office. The list included the name of the law
clerk, the justice for whom the individual clerked, the law school
attended, and, for later clerks, any lower court clerkships. Using Martindale-Hubbell,
law school alumni databases, and electronic search engines, I spent
hundreds and hundreds of hours collecting contact information and
professional background data on former law clerks. For former law
clerks who were actively practicing law, I easily found contact
information; what provided most challenging was finding mailing
addresses for law clerks who had retired from teaching or the practice
of law. Ultimately, I had some success contacting law school alumni
offices and asking for assistance in contacting their graduates. While
some law schools (like Harvard) proved to be very helpful, others
(which will remain nameless) refused to assist me.
Once
I collected approximately 750 mailing addresses, I sent a simple, one
page survey to the former clerks. The survey did not ask about the
clerkship itself, but instead asked for background information (legal
education, law review experience, subsequent professional
accomplishments) and political party affiliation at the time of the
clerkship. The last question was asked in order to come up with a
measure of the clerk’s personal political ideology at the time of the
clerkship; while political party affiliation is a crude measure of
political ideology, I felt that a more sophisticated question would
drive down response rates. I asked this last question not only to
generate descriptive statistics regarding law clerk ideology, but in
hopes of some day generating and testing hypotheses of judicial
behavior that use both justice and law clerk ideology as independent
variables.
My
response rate was much higher than I expected (approximately 40%), a
response rate that rose slightly with a second wave of initial surveys.
From this pool of responses, I selected a representative sample of law
clerks, wrote them, and requested a telephonic interview. In my letter,
I carefully explained the exact nature of my research and assured the
recipient that my interview questions did not touch upon confidential
issues, such as individual cases or a justice’s attitudes toward
constitutional issues. Those individuals who did not respond were sent
a second letter that contained the written interview questions; I hoped
that those former clerks who were hesitant to talk with me by phone
might be willing to provide information in the more “controlled”
environment of written questions. Ultimately, I interviewed (either in
person or by telephone) approximately 50 former law clerks and received
responses to written interview questions from approximately 90 former
clerks. These numbers do not include the approximately 500 former
clerks who responded to my original, one page survey.
Despite
my best efforts, the data collected is biased. Simply put, law clerks
of deceased justices were more willing to provide detailed information
as to their former employer’s hiring and utilization practices than law
clerks whose justices still sit on the bench. Of those former clerks of
deceased justices, I had much better luck at getting solid response
rate from the clerks of the longer-serving justices (Hugo Black,
William J. Brennan, Jr., William O. Douglas, Stanley Reed) than those
justices whose tenures were short (Abe Fortas, Arthur Goldberg, Charles
Whittaker). This is hardly surprising – Hugo Black hired more law
clerks than Burton, Fortas, Goldberg, Minton, and Whittaker combined.
Thus, for some justices I was forced to generalize about their
clerkship practices from the interview of only 1-2 law clerks. My
findings about the clerkship practices of the Rehnquist Court justices
are even more tentative; only a handful of former clerks consented to
interviews, and the few who did speak with me often placed substantial
limits on both the scope and use of the interview.
My
data collection efforts were supplemented by visits to the Library of
Congress and Harvard Law School, where I reviewed the personal papers
of such justices as Morrison Waite, Horace Gray, Oliver Wendell Holmes,
Jr., William Howard Taft, Hugo Black, William O. Douglas, Felix
Frankfurter, Robert H. Jackson, Earl Warren, Thurgood Marshall, and
Harry Blackmun. My goal in reviewing the justices’ papers: to find data
on the justices’ hiring and utilization practices. For this particular
project, I was less interested in individual examples of law clerk
duties or influence (for example, looking in a specific case file and
tracing the flow of paper and the exchange of ideas between the justice
and law clerk in the opinion-writing process) than established,
intra-chamber rules regarding law clerk duties.
In
short, law clerks are tricky research subjects. While I understand why
former clerks want to err on the side of caution when it comes to the
duty of confidentiality, some clerks cite this duty as a means of
quickly saying no to a pesky researcher. Thus, it is difficult to
determine what percentage of former law clerks truly believe that their
ethical duties to their justice survive the clerkship as well as the
death of the former employer. Although I will be publishing a book on
Supreme Court law clerks and the clerkship institution in April, I
consider my research on law clerks far from finished; I hope that the
book will result in additional interviews with law clerks and, dare I
dream, Supreme Court justices.
I
eagerly await comments and insights by the other participants of this
week’s discussion on their time-tested methodological techniques of
studying the elusive law clerk!
Todd Peppers
Roanoke College

Good Research. Best of Luck !
Posted by: Law Clerk Diploma | January 29, 2010 at 05:35 AM