Listening to Each Other: Cultures of Deliberation

Certainly, it is well known that courts are institutions built to listen to people who bring cases. Judges read what complainants submit and listen to what they say, if allowed to speak, in oral hearing. However, another instance of listening is at least as important. At best, truly listening is a characteristic of a court’s culture of deliberations.Footnote ³ In that regard, courts differ from other institutions charged with decision-making, and courts also differ from each other. At the German Federal Constitutional Court (“GFCC”), however, there seems to be a rather unique way of working together.

As it evolved over time, the deliberation culture at the German court allows for all voices to be really heard. No guarantee, but a real option, and not reduced to sitting on the bench or in a deliberation room. Notably, all GFCC rulings are based on extensive surveys, the “Voten,” prepared by the reporting Justice’s clerks, who are fully trained judges that stay for a few years, and him- or herself. To me, having been a professor before, they read like an excellent doctoral thesis, with all references at hand, each time. In fact, the Voten summarize submissions by the complainants, as applicants are called in German procedural law, as well as submissions by institutions that the Court must invite to submit observations. Furthermore, they present all expert opinions the Court called for to contribute to a given controversy, and add research on the matter as well as on the law relevant to understand the topic in context, including international and comparative legal aspects. For sure, they also present an argument and propose a decision. But maybe most importantly, they already make many voices heard, and allow judges to listen.

Then, there are the deliberations themselves. In the GFCC, most decisions are taken by smaller chambers of three that circulate short surveys and draft rulings. However, Senates work on rulings that set standards or strike down legislation are always discussed and in fact collectively crafted in several rounds of deliberations. These were the special moments of my life as a Justice. Lasting several days, Justices met in the morning and often stayed late, to discuss facts, doctrine, and implications of what would be done. Yet in Germany, Justices also discuss the text of a ruling itself, page by page, to eventually agree on every word, every comma. It is easy to imagine that there is, then, a lot to disagree, not only among lawyers producing one text. But in the German court, the culture is a clear commitment to consensus.

That commitment is key. After my time there, I am truly grateful to have worked in a Senate in which we really listened to each other. I know that I did listen, learned to lot, and sometimes revised my position. But I was also listened to, even when it was—presumably—annoying to some that I insisted on gender-appropriate language, claiming it to be “simply more legible.” Also, I was listened to when I insisted, with two colleagues in a concurrence, on adding principles to rights, like the social state principle,Footnote ⁴ or when I insisted, dissenting once with a colleague, on a more realistic description of the world.Footnote ⁵

Listening to the Complainants: A Citizens’ Court

To listen is a crucial asset of any court, more broadly. In Germany, it is a formative element, in that the trademark of the German Federal Constitutional Court is Bürgergericht, a “citizens’ court.” It is a transparent building, as a statement in and of itself. And in the practice of judging, it calls on judges to listen to people, not in the abstract, as legal interest and persona, but for real. To prepare the surveys, this requires clerks to look for more than legal arguments. And in my time at the court, I was particularly grateful that my colleagues listened when I kept reminding them and myself to at least try to put yourselves in the shoes of those who brought cases.

However, the commitment to listen is also a constitutional right. Most deliberately, the German Basic Law guarantees for access to the Court for everyone,Footnote ⁶ thus, the people. But most importantly, this right is translated into reality, in the Court´s work, by a great many people, mostly behind the scenes. Notably, there is the General Register that responds to thousands of submissions by letter, often several times, to explain and clarify what is needed to bring a case; it is they who listen to everyone who submits a piece of paper, and they do so very carefully. It is often overlooked, but forms a backbone of the Court.

More prominently, the commitment to listening, and an identity as a citizens’ court, also shapes how the Court speaks through its judgments. Its press releases are carefully prepared by the Court’s press officers, together with clerks and Justices, to move an important step closer to a general understanding of what a Senate or a Chamber has done. Furthermore, translations into English allow people around the world to see whether the German Court listens to concerns that matter beyond nation-states, like the climate crisis, or forced migration, or terrorism or equal opportunities. Overall, the better a court listens, the more people feel they belong. At best, then, judging offers a way to make people see that they have a say, to experience that they are heard. In the German Federal Constitutional Court, many people work to make that happen.

To Really Belong: Becoming Part of the Court

To have a say, to be heard – that matters to people, and to meaningful legal protection. However, it has been my experience on the bench that it is also important for a Court to make those who work there feel that they belong, in that it gave me that feeling, that I belong. This is personal, and not at all a mere formality. I felt it. And I think it is important to how courts work and what they do in the world as well. When the President of Germany, at the ceremony when I was sworn in as a Justice, called me an addition to the “colorful republic,” I was not sure whether he imagined this to be more or less beautiful. But once at the Court, it felt okay. And I do not take this for granted. Indeed, the initial steps to become a judge were rather different. When it became known that I would be the candidate, some were amazed, some worried, some even angry. “Someone like that in office!” Really? “Someone like that?” I heard this very often, throughout the twelve-year term. It’s not like I wasn’t surprised as well. My CV did not point in that direction. And I was a little scared. How would the press treat me? What prejudices would I encounter in court, from colleagues?

And prejudice there was. Shortly before the meeting of the parliamentary committee that was, at the time, responsible for election of judges, a newspaper described me as the first feminist from the “autonomous women´s movement,” and the “first openly homosexual” candidate.Footnote ⁷ That morning, I thought the dream is over. Another article called me “Prof. Dr. Unusual”Footnote ⁸, explaining that “she is different from the female judges before her,” with specializations that “have many fellow lawyers frown upon,” meaning legal gender studies. In addition, reporters emphasized that “she admits her homosexuality”Footnote ⁹, which motivated then Germany´s President Wulff to state that with me, the “colorful republic Germany now also reaches the constitutional court”Footnote ¹⁰. That did not sound like I would make it either, or that I would ever belong. And it would be nice if I were able to say that this was just the past. But prejudice runs deep and stays around. In fact, it seems that prejudice is back and louder than before, and it is not limited to the political far right’s resentful intolerance. Rather, it is a dangerous development, and courts will have to deal with it well.

But when I arrived at the German Federal Constitutional Court in Karlsruhe, there was a warm welcome, and even more than that: A collegial embrace. My fellow judges showed me right from the start that I do belong—thank you for this from the bottom of my heart! The same goes to the secretaries, and there is no coincidence that all of them are women and so important for this place to function, as I am grateful to the administrative staff, the drivers, the people at the gate, the clerks, the printer, and all the other people who run this place, including the international team for translations and comparative research. You are the court’s engine; without you, none of this would be possible. And you were more than friendly when I arrived: Unprejudiced, open, and approachable, just like the Federal Police that serves to protect us, but that is in fact the citizen-oriented info-box on the doorsteps of the Court. They were the morning smile, with or without a hand on the cap, and offered me support when I was being threatened. I never sensed any prejudice. A reason to be grateful.

Last but not least, there were the academic assistants. In the German Federal Constitutional Court, there are four such clerks to each Justice who usually stay for about three years, most of who being judges from second instance courts or prosecutors from around the country, and some junior academics, several years after law school and bar exams on their way to a university career. Their commitment is unbeatable, and it is indispensable as well. They, too, listen carefully, behind the scenes, and spare no effort, supported by the best public law library in the country, to research and carefully read what complainants write and submit, compile all things relevant from legislation to case law to legal scholarship and other types of research, and they cover Germany, the EU, regional, and global legal systems. For me, their work was often key to carrying the responsibility of judging. When I drafted and signed a ruling, I needed to be sure I had heard all the voices, and the assistants made sure that we did. In addition, they also gave me the feeling that I belonged. For any outsider, including “someone like me,” this feeling of belonging is not the norm, sadly. So thank you very much for making this difference.

Differences and Diversity: A Tricky but Necessary Conversation

Courts, among others, need to seriously engage with differences, to enjoy the richness of broad diversity. In Germany, there is a deliberate, yet limited diversity among the Justices, both in world-view and in professional experience. All have to be fully qualified jurists, and in German legal education, this means at least two years of practical training in different areas and institutions. By law, three of the eight judges in each of the two Senates have to be career judges, while the others may come from any field; they have been mostly academics specializing in constitutional law, sometimes politicians or former members of government. But even more importantly, the law requires a two-thirds majority in parliament for a Justice to be elected, which resulted in a political agreement that political parties, both governing and in opposition, get to propose people to which the other side has to agree. Therefore, radicals are not accepted, but differences are. Regarding diversity, there is certainly room for improvement. It took a while to end male dominance on the bench, with 6 men and 2 women in the First Senate when I took office, and parity when I left, but an imbalance again thereafter, and we still wait for a more constructive take on other aspects of diversity. But as such, the mix is already enriching.

However, diversity in courts is not enough of a concern yet, and even tends to provoke allergic reactions. Having served in a somewhat diverse collegiate, I have even more reason to believe that we need to talk about it seriously. But it is a tricky conversation.

When I was interviewed by fractions in the German Bundestag the evening before the election to the Court,Footnote ¹¹ a conservative member of parliament asked me rather bluntly whether my sexual orientation would have an impact on my future rulings. I replied that if he thought I was biased in cases relating to same-sex couples, then all my heterosexual colleagues would always be biased in all other cases, and I would have to decide a lot on my own. There was a slightly astonished silence, and no further conversation about it at the time. But we should have it.

Luckily, committed academicsFootnote ¹² and some renowned judges have started this conversation already. The wonderful South African constitutional judge Albie Sachs spoke of the “passionate proximity” that is necessary to serve well.Footnote ¹³ The British judge and then-President of the Supreme Court, Lady Brenda Hale, or as her autobiography calls her, “Spiderwoman,”Footnote ¹⁴ often explains how important it is to open up on the bench so that others can open up seeking justice. Justice Sonia Sotomayor of the US Supreme Court emphasizes how much depends on “other questions” in order to produce good decisions together.Footnote ¹⁵ The Canadian judge Rosalie Abella has stated that it is not irrelevant that she was born in a displaced persons camp near Stuttgart, with a father who was not allowed to practice as a Jewish lawyer, that she herself then became the first pregnant woman to sit on a family court, and the first Jewish judge on the Supreme Court of Canada.Footnote ¹⁶ And there are many more, from Daphne Barak in Israel to Daniela Salazar in Ecuador to Natalia Angel Cabo in Colombia, from Associate Justice Goodwin H. Liu in California and Ivana Jelic at the European Court of Human Rights to The Right Honourable Dame Helen Winkelmann GNZM, Chief Justice of New Zealand, and Verena Madner, Vice-President of the Austrian Constitutional Court. As a German Justice, sitting on a court that is decidedly open to the world, and eager to engage in what I call comparative constitutionalism,Footnote ¹⁷ I had the privilege to meet these inspiring judges, and listen to them often, to learn. The personal is never left out, and these judges show all of us, time and again and in different ways, that it is important to really be there. Only then, belonging carries its full potential, and courts do benefit from it.

But let us not fool ourselves. The question of diversity on the bench is a tricky one. What does it mean, in the German Federal Constitutional Court or anywhere else in the judiciary, to be a lesbian judge? Or: A heterosexual judge? Or someone with both experiences, or completely different ones? Also, again and again: Why is it important that women also get to wear the red robes, the German highest court’s color? Or, to reverse the burden of proof, why is it not good if, the higher the court, the more often it is predominantly men that do the judging? In my experience, it matters for many reasons. On the bench, it is important that people with different experiences and views of the world bear such far-reaching responsibility.

Then, diversity goes way beyond binaries, like men and women. This is already the case because “gender” is neither buzzword nor ideology but an analytical term, since sex intersects with other factors, as analyzed in work on multidimensional inequalities worth taking in, at courts and beyond.Footnote ¹⁸ Thus, there is more. What does “origin” mean for such an office, that of a Justice at the highest court? In Germany, it has often been taken into account, at least behind the scenes, which of the Länder, or states, a candidate comes from. In fact, we must ask what does someone add to a court´s ability to listen. In addition, how about a foreign country of origin, in what Germans like to call “migration background,” that is, an experience beyond home? What about social origin, thus the classic concept: Class? It seems like a good idea, both internally and for a court’s acceptance from outside, if people serve on the bench who grew up with more or less money, books, mobility, and other resources. Or does it not? More generally, the question is what difference it makes to an apex court if there are only people who have always seen themselves as “normal,” or if there are also people who are seen as, or see themselves, as “the other.” Is it, then, “exaggerated,” zeitgeisty, excessively “woke,” to call for a person of color on the bench in Germany?

And this is not it; there are additional questions. What difference does faith make? For a long time, a Christian faith played no small role in Germany and elsewhere. Is it then really a good idea, and justifiable, to not allow a “different” faith on the bench, one that requires a believer to wear a headscarf or a kippah?Footnote ¹⁹ Furthermore, what does it mean if a judge, visibly or not, is disabled, chronically ill, has experience with a handicap, either themselves, in the family or close by?

During my term at the German Court, the experience of judging has been so impressive because I got to work on really difficult cases with people who are driven by different things, come from different places, have another experience than me, thus hear and understand different things. At least in a Court with an intense culture of deliberations, diversity is enriching. To achieve this, we should talk about diversity in high offices, including the judiciary, without allergic reactions to “someone like that,” or to a perceived “wokeness.” What matters most is that courts must be able to listen to all kinds of people, which is much easier with many differently trained ears. As such, courts must recognize everyone as belonging to an endlessly diverse society, and it is to their advantage if it is not just justice done, but also justice seen to be done.Footnote ²⁰ Then, diversity is an upgrade of the famous incarnation of justice, Justitia, or Dyke: Not with a blindfold, but with a hearing aid, and glasses. To listen carefully, to see it all, and to make people belong. This is central to a court because it is central to justice.

It’s all about Constitutionalism

Last but not least, we need to revisit what this is actually about: Constitutionalism. This concept stands for a democracy with courts that have the power to review legislation; courts that apply the constitution, not some ideology. The idea is, first and foremost, the protection of fundamental rights as human rights, in a democratic society. Specifically, constitutionalism is about the fundamental triangle of human dignity, freedom, and equality.Footnote ²¹ It says: You do belong, even if you are different, no matter how or who, and we are all bound in it together, as a society, in this world. This is not a new idea, no one-sided ideology, nor is it an elitist concept. Also, “Karlsruhe,” the German Federal Constitutional Court, is not a bastion of political correctness, nor is it a moral authority. As a constitutional court, it does not just cater to fringe minorities. Rather, constitutional and human rights courts exist to ensure that the great promises—equal freedom, human dignity—are not empty promises in a democratic society committed to and bound by a substantive notion of the rule of law. Constitutionalism means rights for everyone and anyone. Unfortunately, we live in a time in which this must be emphasized and defended.

When I arrived at the German court here twelve years ago, that still felt different. Democratic constitutionalism seemed in full bloom, an international conversation, alive in nation states in the Council of Europe with the prestigious Strasbourg Court, as well as in the European Union with its young Charter of Fundamental Rights. But that has changed. Human rights courts have come under fierce attack. Independent constitutional courts are vilified too often. Fundamental rights are being called into question. And most worryingly, they are being “reinterpreted” to cover up autocratic intolerance. In many places, autocratic populism threatens to, or has already set out to capture and eventually destroy constitutional democracy.

This is not just happening elsewhere. Germany is experiencing this a bit later than the U.S., France, Italy, the Netherlands, Poland under PiS, Hungary, Argentina, and others. But autocratic populists follow a similar script. They shout “we the people,” but they don’t endorse democracy for all, the key element of constitutionalism. They call for rights, but they reject their universality, to endorse only their own version of them, catering but to their needs, covering up their greed and injustice. They litigate in courts, but they use and staff courts ideologically. They celebrate rulings or denounce the court only in relation to useful results. They defame judges as part of the “system,” portray people like myself as a “gender conspiracy,” and pretend to be the true guardians of the constitution. Often, these are but crude, fringe comments, but even more often, they infiltrate mainstream media and minds. Not to be mistaken, they are mostly well strategized and coordinated, well financed and very present on social media, and they catch too many people.

This is worrying as such. In addition, the fact that these autocratic attacks tie in with very well-established arguments makes them even more dangerous.Footnote ²² There is a long and well-established history of skepticism towards constitutional courts. It says that courts should control politics, not replace it. There should be no gouvernement des juges, no judicial governing, so courts should favor judicial restraint. Some of this mainstream skepticism of constitutionalism is exaggerated, some is not based on valid data, which is needed to support the claim that courts go “too far,” beyond doing their job. Indeed, it is essential for constitutionalism that courts control political power and do not foreclose politics. Yet when populist autocrats use such arguments, one should be careful. They intend to create a slippery slope, and seek to have courts eventually drown altogether, either captured to become a tool of autocratic politics, or simply a lame duck. Thus, a critical stance towards judicial review should not be utilized by or confused with the destruction of it.

To avoid misunderstandings, the German Court, like any other institution with so much power, need critiques. But these days, it is more and more often attacks that courts face. After the Climate Change ruling in 2021, the comment did not just say “Overly activist!” but denounced the court as incompetent, ideological and so forth. After rulings on equal parental rights, on rights of unions in labor law, on dignity in social law, on equality in tax law, ecologic commitments in commercial law, legal protection in migration law, or liberalism in criminal law, there were not only critical comments, but overbroad rejections of “Dogmatism from Karlsruhe!” sometimes combined with personal attacks on individual judges. And notably, after the Corona virus pandemic rulings, there was the opposite claim that “The Court is failing us!” and “Fundamental rights are gone,” to then explain why others need to take over, to “truly” apply the law. It is too much or too little, but more and more often “totally wrong,” “obviously” gone too far, rights “invented,” problems “overlooked” or “not understood,” a complete failure. Certainly, many comments on rulings are valid and necessary criticism. But more and more often, invectives are intended to denounce the institution, and to discredit constitutionalism as such. Depending on political context, they create a swelling sound, starting with doubts, then mistrust, then defamation, eventually the loss of all legitimacy. This doesn’t just strike a wrong note. Instead, it goes to the heart of the matter.

The Realities of Judging

We need to counter such attacks on democratic constitutionalism. When courts are questioned, it is necessary to understand the realities of judging. At my time on the German court, its practice was quite different from what much theory claims, and also different from the ways in which other courts go about judging. I arrived at the Court as a critical realist, thus trained to expect “indeterminacy” and ideology, but was in fact amazed. Certainly, in most cases, people on the bench know which outcome they deem politically favorable. But intense preparations and deliberations make a difference. In these conversations, aspects come to the fore one has not yet considered, and arguments need to be anchored in the constitution, not in ideology. This is not to say that judges never reveal their political opinions. But in court, such statements did simply not register. It is also not to say that courts ignore politics. But in judging, there are well-defined moments in which a court must take politics into account, and the call is to not surrender to it.

In the German court, the deliberations I took part in were a practice always seeking to reach full consensus of all eight Justices sitting; and that consensus was necessarily legal, beyond political differences. Also, in order to craft proper remedies, we had to take politics into account, but not in the sense of surrendering or even catering to it, but to leave room for democratic choice. I remember that in each and every case, the calling of the day was restraint. As a court, we had the task and power to decide, but as a constitutional court, we also were not to foreclose legislation, thus politics. And as a Senate with term limits, we also tended not to foreclose the next case to be decided with new colleagues eventually. However, and maybe most importantly, there was a willingness to protect and preserve the standing of the institution of the Court itself. That standing depends upon respect from the other branches, based on a consistent performance of a constitutional court as judicial, not political body. Therefore, it is quite regrettable when individual judges act out in public, but such individual actions are not the Court. What counts is the commitment to the law.

Recent autocratic attacks on constitutionalism undo such commitments. They are already dangerous in mobilizing skepticism against judicial review, but they are specifically dangerous in that they employ resentment. As such, the quick verdict of “too far” or “completely wrong” is often linked to more or less diffuse sentiments deeply engrained in our cultures, a combination of prejudice and privilege. Playing to those sentiments, courts are portrayed as “elitist” institutions, and fundamental rights rulings are denounced as protecting “overly sensitive minorities,” thus suggesting that the court is far removed from “regular people” and “normal walks of life.” This happens when courts protect religious pluralism—and not de-facto Christian privilege—or when a court demands non-exclusive—and therefore not only heterosexual—marriage, or when a court emphasizes, in the interest of children, the protection of social—and not only biological—parenting. It also happens when courts take sex equality seriously—instead of patriarchy—or emphasize one’s freedom from being wrongly defined by the state—as man or woman, when in fact intersexual—and so forth. Whenever the German Federal Constitutional Court rendered such fundamental rights rulings, it did not feel revolutionary. More importantly, doctrinal arguments were not all new. But such rulings have been denounced, more loudly than before, and used to delegitimize the Court, with frighteningly popular and dangerously populist insinuations.

There are better ways to engage with constitutional courts. One may resist the temptation of quick verdicts, falling for populist claims, or even resentment. And it certainly helps to really discuss what courts do. Critics of the German Court often say that rulings are, now, incomprehensible and far too long. But German rulings are always structured, including a section “D” on remedies, which is very short. I also remember the constant effort to be shorter and more clear when we discussed the reasons line by line, a rather specific and maybe most formative feature of the German Court´s practice. There are press releases, prepared with great care, in German and English, online. So I submit that courts are different from other institutions, in that they have to give legal reasons foppr whatever they do, but that understanding the Court is still possible. The journalists at the judicial press conference organized around the Court, as well as many critical contributions from legal scholars, are mostly to the point. Thus, you can understand the rulings if you want to, and there is no need to fall for the destructive denunciation overall.

Who is a Court For?

A concern for constitutionalism, including constitutional courts, is neither a personally biased statement from a Justice only, nor a minority concern. In fact, it must worry all of us when fundamental rights rulings and the institutions behind them are denounced as “woke,” and as “politically correct” rather than legally grounded, and plausible, hopefully convincing. Make no mistake: Although the attacks target minorities first, it affects all rights, including freedom of speech, the media and science, access to legal protection, and fair elections in a democracy. There is a strategy: Populist autocrats start where resentment is most wide spread, in Europe for example against asylum seekers, Muslims, or transgender. But this is done to turn the constitution as a whole into an empty promise, and eventually into a vessel for a legalistic autocracy. In the face of such developments, some judges and scholars wondered whether courts should now be “going small,” avoiding strong statements in support of protecting supposedly fringe minorities. But this means to no longer protect fundamental rights and democracy.Footnote ²³ Then, the big promises are empty. And constitutionalism would come to an end.

The practice I was part of is different. In my twelve years on the German Court, I saw people do everything they can to ensure that everyone is heard, and I saw courageous colleagues who were not deterred by the prospect of insidious attacks. In fact, the way the court works, especially with its intense culture of deliberation, helped us to stay true to the judicial ideal of courage against resentment. The extensive research in preparation for the deliberations contributes to this, most of it behind the scenes. Some may read the rulings as rather formalist, quite different from the essayistic style encountered in many common law jurisdictions. But there is value in such order. The German Court first states and explains the facts, retelling all that was brought to the bench. Then, it states and explains the legal standards, drawing lines to precedent, and interpreting the national constitution “in light of” ratified international law. Then, it applies the standards to the controversy, and finally defines remedies. It almost always sends things back to the legislator or the lower court, to decide again, now in line with the constitution. Thus, the Court tries not to replace politics, instead it marks the field within which policies can be constitutionally made.

We are all Minorities

Constitutionalism is about the protection of minorities—but the smallest minority of constitutional law is the human being, the individual.Footnote ²⁴ A constitutional court serves everyone who lodges a constitutional complaint. It protects whoever feels ignored, be it economically, in their faith, with their opinion, alone or with others, privately or on the street, at work or in politics, live or virtually. In each and every case, a constitutional court must ensure that no one is forgotten, left behind, remains unheard. Populists suggest that it is all about “the others,” until they rule and decide but for themselves. But their suggestion is all wrong. Don’t let them fool you! Committed courts cater to everyone whose rights are violated because they are improperly infringed upon. They may not yet have decided in your favor. This is because not everyone suffers immediately. But everyone is affected when democracy dies. Whether you are directly affected by human rights violations or not is only dependent on what you want to do or not do at a given moment in time, and what those in power are interested in, value, or denounce. That changes constantly, and it has changed throughout history. Fundamental rights are needed if you want to do something that doesn’t fit a “new order” Then, you need fundamental rights because you have become a “minority.”

Many people know this from experience. You need basic rights as a woman where and when femininity is made a disadvantage, i.e., in a pay scheme, or via recognition of your husband as the clever one, a patriarchal move that not even female Justices are spared. As a man, you need fundamental rights when you don’t comply with the male role, and defy hegemonic masculinity. You also need rights protection when your desire is marked as deviant, which happens even in the best families. And you need fundamental rights as soon as, when and where you are “the other” and “foreign,” as a person of color or otherwise. You need rights as soon as you want to live a faith differently from the majority, from holidays to clothing to prayer. You need basic rights if you become chronically ill or disabled, and this also happens to the best of us. And you need rights if you want to speak your mind, and say something against the mainstream, or publish an uncomfortable text, or create a critical collaboration, or march down a street in protest. And there is much more.

If fundamental human rights are no longer effectively protected, some will suffer sooner, some later, but ultimately, we will all lose out. Constitutionalism is not only about “these minorities”; in a democracy that deserves the name, it is about everyone. The minority of constitutional law is the individual. You are included. That is why thousands took to the streets in Poland when the Constitutional Court was dismantled, just as tens of thousands took to the streets in Israel against an attempt to dismantle the Supreme Court there. I very much hope that you will also stand up for independent courts, and constitutionalism, against autocratic populists, and against resentment. Everything is not perfect. But the Court at which I was allowed to serve, and so many courts around the world, are working hard to make it work. They need your support. To make constitutionalism happen.