Judge Pratt seems divided on the question. He cites surveys from the mid-1990s that showed 86 percent of district judges wanted more sentencing discretion and more than half wanted to junk the guidelines. But he also says, "My sense is that most judges are comfortable enough. The job pays the same; why ruffle feathers? It's not their business what the Congress does. Whatever they tell them to do, they'll do."
One leading opponent of the drug-sentencing system, Judge John Kane of the U.S. District Court in Colorado, a 1977 Jimmy Carter appointee, says he runs into lots of judges who say they agree with him on the issue but believe that judges should not tear down the law. "My response is, But you are under an affirmative ethical duty under the Code of Judicial Conduct to do what you can to improve the law. Still, I don't find many mavericks."
Judges feel it's their duty to uphold the law, not necessarily to change it. With harsh drug laws, the question is whether a spark could ignite the tinder of moral and professional resentment against drug sentencing and whether that in turn might budge the public.
James Gray, a state judge in Orange County, Calif., would like to be that spark. In a just-published book, "Why Our Drug Laws Have Failed and What We Can Do About It," Gray is trying to rally the troops, publicizing the protests of more than 40 judges, including, he says, about 20 who are going public for the first time.
"Judges are singularly able to discuss this because of their experience. People will listen," Gray says. "But they have to say plainly, 'This is an atrocity the law is forcing me to commit.'"
Gray thinks that the judges are uniquely placed to legitimize critical examination of the drug war, overcoming what he sees as "drug warriors' attempts to squelch any discussion." The demonization of critics is very effective, Gray says. "One state court chief justice told me I was right that the war on drugs is not working. He said he sees that every day. And it's right for sitting judges to talk about it. But he said the risks were too high. If he spoke out he'd have to spend all his time defending himself. That is a screaming tragedy."
Gray, a former district attorney, was himself a drug warrior. He had to make a tough decision to come out against it. "As an elected judge, I thought I'd face a recall eight years ago, but I didn't. And I got reelected in 1996, despite the D.A.'s efforts to find someone to run against me. There are some things more important than job security. It's the most critical issue facing our country today."
Given the job security concerns and peer pressure judges face, as well as their inexperience in political activism, Gray faces an uphill battle in his attempt to enlist his brethren against the excesses of the drug war. Upstaged by the bully pulpit of the drug czar's office and hard-line legislative rhetoric, the quiet moral anguish of judges seems unlikely to ever draw much of the public's attention.
Meanwhile, individual judges will continue to wrestle with their consciences. Judge Robert Sweet, a 1978 Carter appointee to the U.S. District Court in Manhattan, came out for drug legalization 11 years ago. Tagged and gently isolated as "just a legalizer," he has calmly continued speaking out and trying to mitigate drug sentences.
But he's a realist. "Should all the judges rise up? Wouldn't it be nice if they would? But I don't think it will happen."