Judicial candor as a moral duty or a practical presumption

Must judges believe the reasons they give for a decision? That's the shared question. We aren't simply asking whether a judge likes the outcome or personally likes the law. The concern is whether the opinion honestly states the judge's reasons, rather than offering a public explanation that conceals the real ones.

A begins with theorists who reject a strict duty of sincerity. They say judges must balance many institutional demands, so rigid honesty could be naive or even harmful. Keep track of whose view that is. Those are the theorists A will answer, not the author's own final position.

How could we defend honesty? A separates two approaches. The first asks what honesty accomplishes. A transparent explanation can guide lower courts and litigants: if they know the real reason for a decision, they can better understand how the law will apply in another case. Honesty can also strengthen the courts' legitimacy. People have more reason to trust an institution when its public explanations are sincere.

Those are practical, or “prudential,” defenses. Honesty is justified because of the outcomes it produces. But what if a particular deception seemed likely to produce a better result? An argument based entirely on benefits would have to consider that possibility. It hasn't yet given us a duty that stands independently of the calculation.

That is A's objection. In ordinary moral thinking, telling the truth isn't merely a tool we use whenever it is useful. The duty itself constrains what we may do. We can understand the difference through the familiar idea of a beneficial lie: even if a lie appears to help, there is still a moral question about whether we should tell it. A wants that moral force included in the defense of judicial sincerity. A practical argument may support honesty, but it doesn't fully explain why judges should not deliberately mislead.

Main point of A: Judicial sincerity should be defended as an independent moral duty, rather than justified only by its practical benefits.

B also favors candor, but builds a different defense. Judges have to give reasons so that other people can debate, attack, and defend their decisions. That helps constrain judicial power. If the reasons are a cover story, however, people aren't evaluating what actually motivated the decision. A judge could avoid criticism by concealing the very reason that deserves criticism.

This is why B calls candor a prerequisite for the other restraints. A constitution, statute, or precedent can limit what a judge should do. But to check whether the judge has respected those limits, we need an honest account of the decision. A convincing public explanation that disguises the actual reasoning can defeat that scrutiny. Honesty helps those other checks work; it isn't just one more unrelated good quality.

B adds a consequence for public trust. Dishonesty is likely to be detected, and discovery can make people cynical about the courts. Think about why you would hesitate to trust an official's next explanation after learning that an earlier one concealed the real reason for an action. The damage extends beyond whether the first decision happened to work out well.

Does B conclude that candor can never be overridden? No. B explicitly says these benefits probably don't establish an unshakable obligation or eliminate the possibility that deception could yield a net benefit. Still, the calculation must include the large institutional costs: lost trust and the inability to criticize judges' true reasons. A small advantage in an individual decision isn't the whole picture.

Main point of B: Judicial candor deserves a strong presumption because it enables accountability and protects public trust, although its obligation may be outweighed in some circumstances.

Both authors support honesty. Their disagreement concerns the foundation and force of that support. A appeals to a moral constraint that is not justified merely by good outcomes. B explains why honesty is generally the better policy while leaving room for a properly assessed exception.