Justice David Souter, who passed away today at the age of 85, lived a life that now feels almost foreign to our modern sensibilities—defined by humility, intellectual rigor, and a steadfast devotion to public service without even a hint of self-promotion. In an era when public figures carefully curate their personal brands and chase the bright lights of media attention, Souter seemed almost to retreat from fame the moment it found him.
Nominated to the U.S. Supreme Court by President George H.W. Bush in 1990, Souter was expected by many conservatives to be a reliable vote in the mold of Justices Rehnquist or Scalia. Yet his judicial philosophy proved more complex and, at times, deeply frustrating to those who had championed his appointment. His most consequential moment came just two years into his tenure when he co-authored the joint opinion in Planned Parenthood v. Casey, reaffirming the core holding of Roe v. Wade. It was a decision that shocked many on the Right and forever altered his relationship with the conservative legal movement.
But to reduce Justice Souter’s legacy to a single vote—or even a series of decisions—is to do him a disservice. He approached the law not as a tool for ideological warfare, but as a solemn responsibility to the constitutional structure and the rule of law. His view of stare decisis, his respect for precedent, and his cautious incrementalism may have placed him at odds with the conservative project of his time, but they also reflected a deeper belief in the stability and endurance of our legal institutions.
Outside the courtroom, David Souter embodied a personal modesty that is almost mythic today. He never owned a cell phone. He wrote his opinions in longhand on yellow legal pads. Every summer, without fail, he returned to his beloved New Hampshire, to the simple farmhouse in Weare where he was born. There, he surrounded himself not with the trappings of influence but with stacks of books, daily walks through the woods, and quiet evenings among lifelong friends.
He was a scholar in the most classical sense—content to read and reflect, unencumbered by the constant noise of modern life. Though he never married and had no children, he cultivated deep, loyal friendships and remained closely tied to his community. His life reminds us that public service does not require the surrender of personal integrity or the adoption of performative politics.
In many ways, Justice Souter was the last of a particular American archetype—the New England Yankee intellectual. Stoic, disciplined, and fiercely private, he held a view of public life that was grounded in duty rather than ambition. He famously remarked that the first thing he wanted to do after retiring from the Court was to "go home and read books." And that is precisely what he did.
As conservatives, it is natural for us to wrestle with the legacy of a man whose most famous decisions ran counter to some of our deepest convictions. Yet even in that struggle, we must acknowledge his profound sense of duty, his intellectual honesty, and his commitment to the institutions that safeguard our republic.
In remembering David Souter, we are reminded that the highest form of service is not found in self-congratulation or public spectacle, but in the quiet, often unseen work of tending to the fragile architecture of American governance. He lived a life of restraint, reflection, and purpose—one that deserves to be honored, even as we respectfully disagree with some of the conclusions he reached.
May his memory endure as a testament to the value of humility in high office and the enduring importance of conscience in the exercise of power.