For the past several months, I’ve written repeatedly about what I believe is one of the greatest threats facing New York—not crime, not taxes, not even our failing energy policies.
It’s the steady erosion of confidence in our courts.
I’ve written about judges who appear more interested in social engineering than interpreting the law. I’ve written about the growing perception that justice depends less on statutes than on ideology. I’ve argued that when citizens lose faith in the judiciary, they lose faith in government itself.
Now comes another reason for concern.
Chief Judge Rowan Wilson has appointed actress and political activist Cynthia Nixon to the Commission on Judicial Nomination, the body that decides which names the Governor may choose from when filling vacancies on New York’s highest court. While state law allows non-lawyers to serve on the commission, the appointment has generated intense criticism because Nixon has no legal background and is best known for her progressive political activism.
This isn’t about Cynthia Nixon personally.
She has every right to express her political opinions, run for office, endorse candidates, or advocate for causes she believes in.
But selecting the men and women who will interpret our Constitution is not another political campaign. It is one of the most solemn responsibilities in government.
For decades, Americans have accepted the premise that justice should be blind—not blindfolded by politics.
Yet New Yorkers have watched the legal system become increasingly politicized. Prosecutors refuse to prosecute. Criminals are treated as victims. Judges openly lecture from the bench about public policy. Court decisions increasingly divide along ideological lines.
Now we’re told that someone with no legal training—but impeccable progressive credentials—should help decide who sits on our highest court.
That should trouble every New Yorker, regardless of political affiliation.
Supporters correctly point out that the commission includes non-lawyers by design. That’s true. But the question isn’t whether the appointment is legal.
The question is whether it strengthens or weakens public confidence in the courts.
I’ve said before that the rule of law doesn’t disappear overnight. It erodes one appointment, one ruling, one political compromise at a time.
When judicial appointments begin to resemble rewards for ideological loyalty rather than recognition of legal excellence, the damage extends far beyond Albany.
Every litigant begins wondering whether the outcome was determined by the law—or by the philosophy of the people who selected the judge.
Every controversial decision becomes suspect.
Every courtroom becomes just another political arena.
That is a tragedy for a constitutional republic.
I’ve spent years writing about the failures of our legal system because I still believe in what it is supposed to represent. Courts should be where politics ends—not where politics is institutionalized.
The bench should never become a consolation prize for failed political candidates or celebrity activists.
It should remain reserved for those whose first loyalty is to the Constitution, the law, and equal justice under it.
Because once New Yorkers conclude that politics—not principle—determines who interprets the law, we’ve lost something far more valuable than another court case.
We’ve lost faith in justice itself.
The Valley Viewpoint 