Justice Stevens permitted me to include in the book an anecdote that illustrates how differently judges and legislators behave when dealing with politically controversial issues. While I was clerking for him, the Court decided an abortion case, Hodgson v. Minnesota. Minnesota required girls seeking an abortion to get the permission of both of their parents. It was an unusual law—most states required only the consent of one parent. You might also think that it was a cruel law. After all, when would a parent consent to a daughter’s abortion without even telling his or her spouse? In broken families, you might suspect, or in families where child abuse had occurred. So the two-parent rule might be superfluous except in cases where it was damaging.When Hodgson reached the Court in 1990, Justice Sandra Day O’Connor had never voted to strike down any restriction on abortion rights. After oral arguments, though, she indicated that she thought Minnesota’s two-parent notification rule was unconstitutional. Justice Stevens wrote an opinion holding the law invalid. He wanted Justice O’Connor to join him. He drafted very carefully and narrowly, hoping that the opinion would be acceptable to her.Justice Stevens circulated the opinion and waited for a reply. Weeks passed without word from the O’Connor chambers. One day, as Justice Stevens met with me and his other clerks, he wondered aloud about what Justice O’Connor was thinking. We suggested that he go down the hall and ask her.He rejected our suggestion. The opinion, he said, should stand or fall on the basis of the reasons offered in it. He did not want Justice O’Connor to feel pressured or lobbied. So he waited. Eventually, Justice O’Connor sent a note joining the opinion.Justice Stevens’s position was unusual, to be sure. Most justices would feel no reservation about discussing legal issues with a colleague. Justice Stevens himself had done so in the past. Nevertheless, his conduct exemplified, in very pure form, a conviction that all of the justices on the Court would share. They view it as their responsibility to decide cases on their best judgment about the law, not as a favor to another justice or as part of a vote-trading package.In the legislature, log-rolling is a perfectly acceptable, perhaps even commendable, way to reach a compromise. On the Supreme Court, it is completely forbidden. However deep their other disagreements might be, the justices on the Court agree 9-0 about that.Some people believe that the Supreme Court appointments process boils down to raw power: powerful presidents nominate staunch ideological allies, and weak ones choose compromise candidates. No doubt about it: power does matter. For example, when the president’s own party controls the Senate, roughly 89% of Supreme Court nominees win confirmation. When the opposing party has a Senate majority, less than 70% of nominees make it to the Court. Other similar factors also lower a nominee’s odds of success—for example, nominees selected by lame-duck presidents do worse than nominees chosen by newly elected presidents.Power is not the whole story, though. Ideas matter, too. When the Senate is equally divided, and a nominee’s fate is uncertain, moderate senators must choose how to vote. Their decisions will determine whether a nominee gets confirmed by a narrow margin, as Clarence Thomas was, or rejected, as happened to Robert Bork.Ideas also matter to presidential choices. Dwight Eisenhower thought that he should appoint ideological moderates, whereas Richard Nixon wanted staunch conservatives. George W. Bush pushed the ideological envelope with John Roberts and Sam Alito, both of whom came with impeccable conservative credentials. Barack Obama, by contrast, selected a moderate liberal, Sonia Sotomayor, even though his party enjoyed an overwhelming advantage in the Senate.Ideas about the Court influence appointments in other ways, too. For example, presidents and senators have increasingly viewed federal judicial experience as an essential credential for Supreme Court nominees. When Sam Alito replaced Sandra Day O’Connor, the Court for the first time in American history consisted of nine justices all of whom were sitting federal court judges at the time of their appointment. And, also for the first time in American history, it contained nobody who had ever held elected office. This change was not forced by power relationships; it results from the way we think about the Court and the appointments process.Yet, when people think about repairing the appointments process, they usually focus on one narrow issue—how to change the confirmation hearings. No book about the appointments process can ignore the hearings, and The Next Justice makes suggestions about how to improve them. It would be wonderful if the hearings could move beyond artificial exchanges about umpiring and fidelity to law. We should remember, though, that the hearings are only the most visible part of the appointments process, not the most important part. The keys to the process are choices that presidents and senators make, often behind closed doors but under the influence of public debate.With the Supreme Court sharply divided about a wide range of constitutional issues, much will be at stake in the next few nominations. Who gets nominated, and who gets confirmed, will depend on many things, including our view of the Supreme Court’s role. Enriching that view and exposing its connection to the appointments process are the primary goals of The Next Justice.