A Question For Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump

It is only June, but thus far, the 2016 presidential election cycle has been one of the most unusual and eventful in American history. Donald Trump, a brash real estate mogul and reality TV star from New York City, whose campaign began as a punchline for late-night talk show hosts, has secured enough delegates to win the Republican nomination, beating out governors, senators, and a celebrated neurosurgeon.

Meanwhile, amongst Democrats, Bernie Sanders, a septuagenarian democratic socialist from Vermont, won 19 states to date, along with more than 12 million votes, and 45% of all pledged delegates, while building a massive following, and directing considerable attention towards issues of income inequality and economic justice. Sanders ultimately lost to Hillary Clinton, former secretary of state, senator and First Lady, who is the first female presidential nominee for a major American political party.

The Republican contest has been particularly heated, with talk of a ban on Muslims entering the United States, criticism of a sitting federal judge who is hearing a case where Mr. Trump is being sued, border walls, and a Twitter faceoff over the attractiveness of the wives of Ted Cruz and Mr. Trump. While Democrats have faced fewer such charged moments, Bernie Sanders and Hillary Clinton sparred aggressively, most notably when Sanders attacked Clinton’s speaking fees, earned for appearances before employees of Goldman Sachs and other financial firms, while Clinton asserted that Sanders’ plans were largely unfeasible.

Yet, throughout this campaign, an important topic has gone essentially unmentioned, despite it’s considerable relevance to our shared future as a nation:

Given the rise of robotics, artificial intelligence and other technologies which are likely to eliminate the jobs of millions of American workers, what are your plans for helping our nation’s workforce, and their families, to adjust and prepare for this new reality?

Over the past several years, scientists have warned that robots, along with artificial intelligence and machine learning tools more broadly, are likely to eliminate millions of jobs over the next few decades, with some researchers estimating that around 47% of all American jobs are at risk. Fields like transportation (taxi and truck drivers) will face a massive headcount reduction, as self-driving vehicles eventually replace human operators. Manufacturing has already become increasingly automated and robotized (perhaps most dramatically illustrated in a Chinese factory where robots recently eliminated 90% of human jobs), a trend which is now spreading to service jobs as well.

Skilled work is also facing downsizing and adjustment, as machine learning and artificial intelligence allows computers to process massive amounts of data in the blink of an eye. The legal field is one area where this sort of innovation is taking place at a fevered pace, as is finance, particularly with the rise of asset management firms which run entirely on artificial intelligence-based strategies.

While experts differ as to the precise impact of these changes on employment, with some arguing that these technologies could result in the creation of at least some new jobs, almost everyone agrees that the nature of employment will shift considerably in the coming decades.

Yet, we hear very little about this sea change, from either the Clinton or Trump campaign.

Mr. Trump has been strident in his opposition to the US-Chinese trade imbalance, describing it as “rape” as well as “the greatest theft in the history of the world.” Yet, as a recent piece from James Pethokoukis in The Week recently noted, while trade with China, and specifically the growth of Chinese manufacturing, did have a negative impact on American manufacturing employment, that story is largely “yesterday’s news.” Today, China is utilizing robots and other tools to automate it’s manufacturing operations, and if these functions were moved to the United States, we would see these tasks completed by robots based in America (as opposed to China). Examining these changes, Pethokoukis observes that “it’s automation, not globalization, that poses the bigger risk to the economic security of the American labor force.”

Secretary Clinton’s proposals around trade and manufacturing, also fail to consider this critical challenge. On her website, Secretary Clinton vows to “strengthen investment in American manufacturing — so we make it in America”, and to “create incentives for companies to bring back jobs to the U.S.” This begs the same sort of question that Pethokoukis raised: Is an American machine or robot, preferable to it’s Chinese counterpart? Because that is how products will ultimately be manufactured.

Beyond manufacturing, neither Mr. Trump nor Secretary Clinton has shown any real inclination to discuss the potential consequences of automation more broadly, whether in the service industry (both have commented on a possible minimum wage increase, but said little about growing automation in areas like fast food restaurants), or elsewhere. There’s no indication that either has addressed the merits or challenges of a guaranteed minimum income, large-scale job retraining, or other measures which might assist displaced workers. What’s more, neither candidate seems to have much to say about the social impact of these changes.

In one sense, it isn’t surprising that neither candidate has spent much time discussing these matters. After all, reminding millions of Americans that their jobs are threatened, not by external adversaries, such as foreign nations, or multinational corporations, but rather, robots and software developed in office parks in Silicon Valley, is hardly a winning campaign narrative; for a political campaign, it isn’t convenient, or easy to sell.

Yet, real leadership requires that we take stock of what’s happening around technology and employment, and craft a sustainable, pragmatic path forward. Delay and denial will only cause more pain, especially when millions of lives are facing such serious challenges. Thus far, neither candidate has shown much willingness to address the likelihood that tomorrow’s employment market, will be very different from the landscape of today, and we need to plan for this new future.

Cutting Back on Facebook Improved My Life

It all started back in October 2004. At the time, I was in my fourth year at UCLA, with graduation just a few quarters away. One of my friends sent me an email invite to this website called The Facebook, and encouraged me to sign up. Since we were amongst the first dozen or so schools to gain access to FB (as it is known on the NASDAQ exchange), I used one of the earliest versions of this platform, complete with an erasable timeline (back then, referred to as a “wall”), and numerous common interest groups, for everyone from fans of former NBA player Shaquille O’Neal, to those of us who grew up playing pogs in the 1990’s.

It quickly became evident that Facebook was a powerful tool for connecting people, whether to share information (often in the form of articles and videos), stay updated on each other’s lives, or organize events. Just a few months before my June 2005 college commencement, Facebook released the first version of the Events feature, which allowed users to send out invitations to various get-togethers. My friends and I used this feature to quickly bring together our college crew for a last hurrah. Seeing how efficiently we accomplished this task, helped me appreciate just how useful Facebook could be.

Over the next two years, Facebook continued to grow in popularity, as well as the scope of features. I uploaded photos of trips to San Francisco, Las Vegas, and South America, for which several people in my circle offered a range of humorous commentary. I shared articles on a variety of topics, leading to a running dialogue on the most pressing matters (often, they really weren’t) of the day. I went from logging in perhaps once every couple of days, in early 2005, to perhaps two to three times per day, by the summer of 2007.

Then, the 2008 presidential primaries arrived. I was a first-year law student, and found myself thoroughly transfixed by the Obama-Clinton contest. This was the first presidential election to truly unfold on social media, and the Internet more broadly, as seen with the viral Obama Girl video, as well as the Emmy-winning Yes We Can montage by will.i.am. Both of these productions gained attention in no small part thanks to sharing on Facebook, as did debates around answering 3 AM phone calls, and President Obama’s association with the controversial Reverend Jeremiah Wright.

Facebook was now a sort of personalized news channel, where each of us was both a reporter as well as a viewer. In various postmortems of the 2008 election, commentators described it as the “first social media election” while other observers noted that particularly amongst younger voters, Facebook was a popular medium for sharing and gathering information about the upcoming elections. At this point, I was on Facebook at least 4–5 times per day, posting, commenting, and vociferously debating numerous issues which arose during that historic election.

It was now early 2009. I had purchased a smartphone (to the extent one could consider a mid-2000s’ Blackberry “smart”), complete with the Facebook mobile app, so I no longer needed to be at my desktop, in order to peruse my news feed. Between the mobile app and my laptop sessions, I was on Facebook 8–9 times per day, sometimes for just 1 or 2 minutes, although in other instances, sessions lasted for 20 to 30 minutes, and on a a few occasions, upwards of 1 hour.

While the election was over, I still managed to find a wide range of content to both consume and share. An article from Business Insider, on 10 lessons that AOL founder Steven Case learned in his 30’s? (OK, that isn’t an actual article, but it’s precisely the sort of thing we could imagine Henry Blodget’s team conjuring up). The world needed to hear about this! My middle school classmate just took a vacation to Ecuador, and shared photos of his trip? Time to get to work on browsing and liking what I see, and, if it’s really good, commenting on individual photos. And with that, there goes 8 minutes of my life, never to return again.

The rise of check-ins and mobile photo sharing didn’t help matters.. A permanent relocation to New York City accelerated this trend, since clearly, it was of considerable importance that everyone know that I was at Babylon Hookah Lounge on Friday at 2:30 AM, or what the latest concoctions at Vanessa’s Dumpling on 14th Street looked like.

I should be fair to myself, and so many of you. A lot of us post engaging, relevant articles and videos on Facebook, ranging from in-depth articles in The New Yorker and The Atlantic, to lectures by physicist Dr. Michio Kaku, and philosopher Michael Sandel. Other people share entertaining or uplifting pieces, which help brighten one’s darker days. I’ve had several friends compliment me for helping them learn something new, broaden their perspective, or even just make them smile. I’m glad I was able to do that, and I appreciate others doing it for me.

I’ve also watched friends utilize Facebook to solicit donations for cancer research and youth mentorship projects, or to share personal experiences from which we could all learn something valuable. Others have used it to inform their friends of job and business opportunities, and of course, enjoyable places to travel, and worthwhile restaurants to check out. There’s real value in harnessing the shared power of large numbers of people who know each other.

But, there’s another side to this story, and it isn’t quite so rosy. As I spent more time on Facebook, I increasingly began comparing myself to others, often in a rather negative manner. When a law school classmate announced that he was accepting a position at a top law firm, I felt genuinely happy for him, while chastising myself for my inferior levels of accomplishment. Reading another person’s status update about how much he’d been working the past few weeks, made me feel like I was lazy or unproductive (which is rather absurd, considering my daily schedule). Yet, oddly enough, viewing a former colleague’s photos of her vacation to Southeast Asia, triggered feelings of fatigue and disappointment, as I had done nothing but work at an exhausting pace, for the entire summer.

Facebook came to feel like a massive online slate of social competition, where so many users offered up (often, cherry picked) moments of their lives which, in my mind, consistently exceeded anything that was happening in my world.

This behavior pattern began in early 2009, and grew progressively worse over time. While it rarely interfered with my work (an inexplicable fear of poverty and homelessness due to unemployment prevented that), by late 2013, as I was preparing to start the new year, I knew that something had to change.

There wasn’t one particular incident which triggered this epiphany, but rather, an overall sense of dissatisfaction, which, after some quiet reflection, I understood was driven in part by Facebook, specifically, the perceived worth of my choices and lifestyle, as compared to others whom I knew. If Facebook was a major source of my personal angst, then there was only one thing to do: Stem the problem at it’s source, by using it less.

I wasn’t sure what an optimal Facebook usage pattern might look like, but after giving it some thought, I decided that logging in just every four hours, for only a few minutes per session, during standard business hours ( 8 AM until around 8 PM) ought to make some sort of difference. After work hours, I’d allow myself to browse a bit more, though that was to be avoided where possible. Soon, I began to see results.

First, I noticed that, within just a few months, by perusing other people’s lives less often, I was more present in and focused on myself, and how I might make myself happier. That is, rather than wondering why someone else was taking seemingly incredible vacations abroad, or had a job which he or she appeared to absolutely love, I asked myself what I might do, to put myself in a position to obtain those things which I truly desired in my life. My focus began shifting towards personal improvement and growth, rather than downgrading myself through external comparison.

Of course, Rome wasn’t built in a day. I still used to beat myself up on occasion, convinced that I was a disappointment and bitter failure, as compared to much of the world’s population (or at least that sliver whom I know personally). Yet, at the end of 2014, I felt a stronger sense of gratitude and empowerment. I had a lot of wonderful things to be thankful for. What’s more, my life was in my own hands, and I saw that I could mold it in the manner I desired.

At the start of 2015, I again slashed my Facebook consumption. Now, on weekdays I would only allow myself to log in to Facebook twice per day, once at or just after 8 AM, and the other time around 8 PM. On weekends, I might be on Facebook somewhat more often, but not a whole lot. Within a few months, I decided to limit these sessions to just 10 minutes per login. Also, during each session, I would allow myself to post no more than two items to Facebook.

There was a bit more progress in terms of avoiding negative comparisons, and focusing on personal growth. However, as in so many other matters of life, the law of diminishing returns applies, and so the progress of 2014 was considerably more transformative, than steps taken in 2015.

On the other hand, I became a better Facebook user; that is, I contributed more positively. How? Over the past year or so, I have focused on posting (mostly) relevant content, whether articles, videos, or my own thoughts, to Facebook. With just 20 minutes per day on the platform, (and no more than 4 items to post daily, my other stricture), I had to be more efficient in my approach. When putting an item on Facebook, I began to stop and ask myself “What’s the real reason that I want to share this with 1000+ people? What will they gain from it?”

Facebook has impacted countless lives, in a way that few products could ever hope to accomplish. It has tied so many of us together, weaving together the stories of our collective existence, while providing each of us with a voice that can be widely heard. Truly, Facebook is a vehicle which permits each of us to act as both consumers and curators of the world around us.

Yet, almost 12 years after that first login, I am glad that I don’t use Facebook quite as often as I once did. Simply put, I was consuming it in a harmful manner, viewing snapshots of other people’s lives, which I was juxtaposing with my own existence, to make myself feel wanting, unhappy, and somehow inferior. Reducing my daily dosage has helped me to focus inwards, and really consider how I might shape and guide my own life, while experiencing gratitude for that which I already enjoy.

The Trouble With Electronic Voting

With each passing year, technology plays an increasingly transformative role in our lives. We use the Internet (often through mobile applications), to purchase everything from taxi rides and airplane flights, to food and retail goods, as well as access an array of professional services, including home cleaning, personal banking, and legal advice.

Tools like Whatsapp and Viber allow inexpensive, simple personal communication across the planet, while Facebook, LinkedIn, Twitter and Instagram allow us to share, comment and connect, with an innumerable array of people, places and ideas.

Simultaneously, artificial intelligence is revolutionizing everything from automobile transportation to cancer treatment, while virtual reality helps alter how we understand and perceive the world around us.

Yet, there are some endeavors which are best left untouched by technological advancement, and instead, ought to be conducted using a more traditional approach. Voting is one such activity. Over the past few decades, we have witnessed the rise of electronic voting machines, eliminating the need for traditional paper ballots. However, because of serious issues surrounding the accuracy, security, and verifiability of votes case using these devices, American elections ought to make use of paper ballots, filled in by pencil, as is done in Canada.

The Federal Election Commission (FEC), first offered standards for electronic voting in 1990, when much of today’s voting technology was in it’s infancy. In 1996, Ross Perot’s Reform Party took the groundbreaking step of selecting a presidential nominee through an online election, with more than 2000 voters participating. Technology-driven voting was making steady progress, it seemed, from dream to reality.

Then, the 2000 presidential election happened. The disputed Florida vote brought us the saga of hanging chads, recounts, and a “Brooks Brothers riot”, capped by a pitched legal battle, which was ultimately resolved by the Supreme Court, in favor of George W. Bush. Florida was hardly the only blot on America’s electoral portrait that year. A joint study by researchers at MIT and Caltech found that as many as 4 to 6 million ballots (out of 100 million cast) went uncounted, due to a range of problems, including malfunctioning voting equipment, and, due to unclear and ambiguous ballots, voter error.

In response to these events, Congress passed the Help America Vote Act of 2002 (HAVA), signed into law by President Bush in October of that year. HAVA contains a variety of far-reaching provisions, which lawmakers argued would improve the operation of federal elections.

Most relevant to this discussion is a clause which provides funds for states to improve, modify or replace existing voting systems used in federal elections, more specifically “punch card voting systems or lever voting systems,” with those which meet certain alternate requirements, designed to protect vote integrity.

These new voting methods must allow each voter to verify, “in a private and independent manner,” any vote cast (this is commonly referred to as “verified voting”), and make it possible to correct any errors which might have occurred. Such ballots must also notify the voter if he or she has accidentally selected more than one candidate for a single office, and warn of the consequences of such a vote.

In order to ensure that each vote cast can be verified, a voting system must also produce a physical paper, which can be manually audited, and serves as an official record of votes, in the event of a recount. HAVA explicitly provides that a state is not required to implement any particular type of voting system, or to replace existing procedures, as long as whichever voting methodology is eventually selected, complies with HAVA provisions. More than $3.5 billion has been allocated in grants for states to implement various HAVA requirements, including purchases of new voting machines. As a result,dozens of states across the nation have begun using electronic voting devices.

At first glance, such provisions seem to be reasonable measures, designed to make voting simpler, and ensure that each vote is in fact counted. Yet, despite such good intentions, a deeper examination of electronic voting, reveals numerous instances of major technical malfunctions, a lack of verified voting, as well as considerable potential for vote tampering and fraud.

Electronic voting machines have a well-documented history of failure and error. During the March 2004 primaries, Diebold electronic voting machines in San Diego and several other California counties malfunctioned, disenfranchising numerous voters, and resulting in a ban on this particular model, as well as a lawsuit (eventually settled) against the company. During that same California election, electronic voting device errors in Napa County caused more than 6,000 absentee ballots to go uncounted.

These issues persisted into the November 2004 presidential election, most notably in the North Carolina county of Carteret, where electronic voting machine crashes caused more than 4,000 ballots to be lost, throwing a close race for state agricultural commissioner into disarray (a revote for this office was held eventually). Similar technical malfunctions were seen in the 2006,2008, and 2010 election cycles, as digital voting machines failed repeatedly, leading to possible thousands of uncounted votes, and casting doubt on the accuracy of election outcomes, in localities across the nation.

What’s more, despite HAVA requirements, many of today’s electronic voting systems don’t actually provide for verified voting. The Verified Voting Foundation, which advocates for vote accuracy in American elections, recently published a map of voting practices by state. In at least 14 states, there is no Voter Verified Paper Audit Trail (VVPAT) whatsoever, that is, no physical paper printout of a voter’s candidate/ballot initiative selection, which would allow voters to be certain of whom their vote was cast for, and also, to facilitate potential recounts in the event of any uncertainty regarding electoral outcomes.

In these states, if a vote were somehow incorrectly cast, altered or deleted, there would be no way to actually know about, let alone correct, any errors which might have transpired. Simply put, voters can only hope that their efforts at democratic participation aren’t for naught. Such non-verifiability casts doubt on the stated outcomes of not only local and statewide elections, but, in aggregate, each and every American presidential election.

Adding to these concerns, a growing body of research makes it clear that many voting machines are easily hacked and tampered with. In 2015, a report published by the Virginia Information Technology Agency (VITA) found that the AVS WinVote machines, used in Virginia and elsewhere, were highly vulnerable to simple, untraceable outside attacks. The situation was so dire that computer security expert Jeremy Epstein, who was part of an earlier Virginia investigation of voting machines, graded the WinVote devices an “F-Minus” for security. Just a few years earlier, in 2012, Roger Johnston, a security expert at Argonne National Laboratory, demonstrated that it was possible to hack the Diebold Accuvote-TSX and Sequoia AVC voting machines in just a few minutes; at the time, these machines were in use in 24 states.

One needn’t be a wide-eyed conspiracy theorist to worry about such vulnerabilities. In an era where banks, retailers, and government agencies have all been victims of large-scale security breaches, it certainly isn’t farfetched to think that voting systems might be subject to swift, untraceable attacks which add, eliminate or alter votes, carrying massive consequences for American democracy.

Fortunately, there is a simple solution to these problems: paper ballots, filled out using only pencils. For evidence of how effective this approach is, look no further than Canada, which offers only secret paper ballot voting in federal elections (although Internet voting is available for some local elections). Why are only paper ballots in use? According to Diane Benson, a spokesperson for Elections Canada (the nation’s electoral oversight body), alternative methods (specifically Internet voting) have been proposed, but ultimately scrapped due to concerns around “integrity, verifiability and secrecy.” Canada’s minimalist approach to voting seems to be working quite well, as the nation has enjoyed smooth, transparent federal elections, facing few of the aforementioned problems which have plagued American voting in recent years.

Technology improves our lives in myriad ways. At the same time, in some undertakings, a simple, tried and true approach is far better. It is time to follow the lead of our neighbors to the north, eliminate the use of electronic voting machines, and conduct perhaps the most important activity in American public life, using a method which has stood the test of time: The paper, pencil, and the secret ballot.

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Supreme Court Justices Should Serve For No More Than 11 Years

The death of Justice Antonin Scalia in February, and subsequent nomination of Judge Merrick Garland as his replacement, has touched off a pitched struggle between President Obama and the Republican-controlled Senate. Scalia’s replacement is almost certain to shift the ideological balance of the Court, having a massive impact or years to come.

For those justices who retired from the Court since 1970, the average length of service was 26.1 years, with a corresponding retirement age of 80. Many justices outlast three or more presidents, and shape American jurisprudence for a generation or longer. Nominating and voting on Supreme Court justices are amongst the most consequential decisions any president or senator makes during office.

It is time to impose a ceiling on how long a justice may serve on the Court. For each justice who retires from today’s Court, his or her replacement should serve for a single term of no more than 11 years. Over time, the Court will be composed entirely of tenure-limited justices.

Imposing such limits will stem the concentration of power into the hands of a single justice, by curbing the chances for any individual jurist to disproportionately shape the Court’s decisions over an extended period of time. These restrictions will also help ensure that each justice is contemporary with legal and societal realities, which will make for more thoughtful, informed judicial decisionmaking. Lastly, by placing a cap on how long a justice may serve, we can reduce consideration of age in court appointments, which will open the door to a greater variety and quality of judges.

Lifetime appointments allow a single justice to have a disproportionate say in how the Court rules in vital matters, sometimes for a decade or longer. Let’s consider Justice Anthony Kennedy, who has served on the court since 1988, and often cast the deciding vote in many of the Court’s most noteworthy 5–4 rulings.

In 2015, Kennedy authored the Court’s ruling in favor of a constitutional right to same-sex marriage. Prior to that, he held that application of the death penalty is unconstitutional in non-murder cases, and for defendants who were minors when they committed a crime. Kennedy has also voted to expand the rights of Guantanamo detainees to challenge their imprisonment, and is widely seen as a determinative voice against the most stringent state-level abortion restrictions.

Of course, Justice Kennedy was appointed by President Reagan, and often leans to the right. He has cast the crucial fifth vote to strike down gun control laws and campaign finance restrictions, ruled against the Voting Rights Act of 1965, and the use of race in high school enrollment. Kennedy is also known for his skepticism towards affirmative action programs.

The Court exercises considerable influence over the life of every American, with few practical dampers on it’s power. Justice Kennedy, as the conclusive vote in so many impactful cases, has touched countless corners of American life. However one might view any of his specific findings, does it make sense for one person to offer the ultimate interpretation of our laws, serving as the “go to justice” for a decade and counting? Does this singular approach make for well-reasoned outcomes? Knowing that even the wisest amongst us are not infallible in judgment, how should Americans feel about placing our shared legal fate in the hands of one person, no matter how intelligent or personally palatable his rulings appear?

Tenure restrictions will help alleviate this situation. Over the years, as each lifetime appointee is replaced by someone who sits on the Court for no more than 11 years, we will see the composition of the Court changing more frequently. This will result in varied judicial philosophies, and new, shifting coalitions of judges, coming together to decide cases.

That doesn’t mean there won’t be 5–4 rulings in the future, with one “swing” justice acting as a decider in lots of cases. Yet, it greatly reduces the chances for one person to occupy this role for years or decades, as Justice Kennedy has done.

Capping a justice’s time on the Court, will also help ensure that each justice better grasps the legal and societal pulse of the day. Let’s consider the monumental changes we have witnessed over the past three decades, shortly after Justice Scalia joined the Court. Mobile phone adoption in the United States has become nearly universal, and a solid majority of these devices are smartphones, which receive and transmit an immense amount of personal data, invoking weighty privacy and security implications. Domestic andinternational terrorism is an ever-present threat, while government surveillance continues to expand at home and abroad, aided by increasingly sophisticated technology.

Both marriage and divorce rates have dropped, while births outside of wedlock continue to increase. Support for the rights of LGBT individuals has increased dramatically, while ethnic demographics have perceptibly shifted, in large part thanks to immigration, some of which has occurred under dire circumstances. Religious observance has declined. Bob Dylan was right: “The Times They Are A-changin.”

A justice who enjoys real familiarity with the most pressing legal matters of his or her time, may well offer more insightful rulings on the most pressing topics before the Court. Prior to his or her ascension to the Court, such a justice might have recently litigated or heard cases involving questions of online security and privacy, or the use of sophisticated new surveillance tools. This justice might have also be familiar with issues of immigration by individuals fleeing persecution, or matters of worker rights in an ever-changing labor and economic landscape.

Such practical working knowledge will prove quite useful in understanding the complex cases before the court, especially those of a more technical nature. This was starkly demonstrated in the 2010 case of City of Ontario v. Quon, when several long-serving justices struggled to understand both technical functions and privacy concerns surrounding mobile devices.

What’s more, a recent appointee has likely witnessed some of the aforementioned social and cultural changes in the nation firsthand. He or she likely goes shopping at the local supermarket, and goes for walks in the neighborhood, and maybe travels elsewhere in the country. This prospective justice might have also been involved with the education of a child, or participated in nonprofit organizations, whether charitable, political, cultural or religious. Each of these experiences allows one to better understand the shifts our society undergoes over the decades, which colors the context of cases before the Court.

Contrast this with a justice who sits on the Court for decades on end, living in the Washington DC area. Such a justice faces a demanding workload, and might be cloistered in the insular legal circles of the nation’s capital. While he or she might develop a secondhand understanding of how Americans actually live, there are few substitutes for, witnessing, grappling with, and really feeling the realities of the era in which one is serving on the Court.

Lastly, allowing justices to serve on the Court for no more than 11 years, could reduce the importance of age in court appointments, which can lead to a more unique, experienced group of judges. Prior to Justice Scalia’s death, six of the nine justices on the Court were 55 or younger when they assumed their seats, with three being 50 or under.

With the average justice spending well over two decades on the Court, offering a younger nominee, is a powerful method for a president to cement a legacy. The nomination of Judge Garland, who at 63 is the oldest nominee since Lewis Powell in 1971, is a notable exception to this trend, and is driven by unique political circumstances.

If each justice could serve for only 11 years, considerations of longevity would be of lesser importance, and a president could focus on appointing someone with a range of relevant professional and personal experience, but is over 55. Respected former politicians, powerhouse scholars, luminary lawyers, influential state and federal judges, and perhaps even a few highly capable non-attorneys, may be considered for the Court, bringing a wealth of unique knowledge, perspective and wisdom to their work.

We still haven’t answered one question: Why 11 years? First, by structuring tenure on the Court with odd numbers, we symbolically decouple Court nominations from elected terms of office, which are multiples of 2 (members of the House serve for 2 years, the president for 4 years). While the Court often considers politically charged matters, justices are not politicians. An 11 year term might offer little practical difference from one of 10 or 12 years, but it creates a symbolic measure of distinction from traditional elected offices.

Secondly, why can’t justices serve a shorter term on the Court, maybe 5 years, or a longer one, perhaps 15 years? A justice ought to outlast any individual president, and should thus serve for more than 8 years. While nominating a Supreme Court justice is an inherently political act, a justice must be understood as separate from, rather than a mere appendage of, the president who appointed him or her.

Yet, we must constrain the ability of any individual justice, to shape the law over extended periods of time. 11 years on the Court means that a justice serves for more than 2, but just under 3 presidential terms, which balances both of these concerns.

The Court has played a paramount role in American life for over two centuries, deeply molding how we conduct business, protect individual rights, and administer justice. At times, it has done much good, lighting the way towards a better world; in other instances, the Court has also been a source of regressive, narrow rulings, which impeded our share progress. Ultimately, for the Court to function most effectively in the future, it is time to end lifetime appointments to the Court, and allow each justice to serve for a one term of 11 years.