TELL US WHAT YOU THINK

 JUDGES, OPINIONS, AND WHY THE ROBE ISN’T A MUZZLE

Let’s get something clear right off the bat: judges are not robots. They don’t just press F1 on the keyboard and out comes a court order (although Chat GBT is changing this). They read (supposedly). They reflect and genuflect. They wrestle with consequences. And they are, whether they admit it or not, influenced by their lived experiences, their judicial philosophies, and—dare we say it—their personal sense of justice.

So why do so many judicial orders read like they were ghostwritten by HAL 9000?

Here’s the thing: judges are not legislators. Legislators make law. Judges apply it. But in applying it, they are interpreting it. And interpretation is inherently personal. The law isn’t math; it’s a messy, evolving ecosystem of words, history, precedent, and policy. When judges pretend that their rulings are devoid of personal perspective, they’re either lying to us—or to themselves.

Which brings us to the point: judges need to include their personal views of the law in their orders. Not because we need to know what they had for breakfast or how they vote. But because transparency is the bedrock of trust. When a judge decides a close case—when they weigh constitutional principles, public safety, rehabilitation, or freedom—they owe it to the litigants, the lawyers, and the public to explain why they ruled the way they did.

Not just “because the law says so.” But because they, the person we entrusted with the robe and the power of the state, believe that this is the right application of justice.

Hiding behind phrases like “the plain meaning of the statute” or “binding precedent compels” does nothing to further justice when the case is a toss-up and precedent cuts both ways. Give us the reasoning. Give us the context. Give us the thought process. That’s what being a judge means.

Judges are paid to be thoughtful. To be courageous. To stand apart from political tides and call balls and strikes when the crowd is screaming for a walk-off homer. If we wanted algorithmic neutrality, we’d let ChatGPT decide suppression motions (though, honestly, some of us would take that trade).

So next time you issue an order, Judge, don’t just tell us what you ruled—tell us why. Show us the struggle. Show us your voice. That’s not activism. That’s authenticity. And in this business, it’s all we’ve got.