We do not understand why, having rejected our focus upon the societal tradition regarding the natural father's rights vis-a-vis a child whose mother is married to another man, Justice Brennan would choose to focus instead upon "parenthood." Why should the relevant category not be even more general - perhaps "family relationships"; or "personal relationships"; or even "emotional attachments in general"? Though the dissent has no basis for the level of generality it would select, we do: We refer to the most specific level at which a relevant tradition protecting, or denying protection to, the asserted right can be identified. If, for example, there were no societal tradition, either way, regarding the rights of the natural father of a child adulterously conceived, we would have to consult, and ((if possible) reason from, the traditions regarding natural fathers in general. But there is such a more specific tradition, and it unqualifiedly denies protection to such a parent.
One would think that Justice Brennan would
appreciate the value
of consulting the most specific tradition available, since he
acknowledges that "[e]ven if we can agree . . . that `family' and
`parenthood' are part of the good life, it is absurd to assume that we
can agree on the content of those terms and destructive to pretend that
we do." Post, at 141, 105 L.Ed.2d, at 117. Because such general
traditions provide such imprecise guidance, they permit judges to
dictate rather than discern the society's views. The need, if arbitrary
decisionmaking is to be avoided, to adopt the most specific tradition
as the point of reference - or at least to announce, as Justice Brennan
declines to do, some other criterion for selecting among the
innumerable relevant traditions that could be consulted - is well
enough exemplified by the fact that in the present case Justice
Brennan's opinion and Justice O'Connor's opinion, post, p 132, 105
L.Ed.2d, at 111-112, which disapproves this footnote, both appeal to
the tradition, but on the basis of the tradition they select reach
opposite results. Although assuredly having the virtue (if it be that)
of leaving judges free to decide as they think best when the
unanticipated occurs, a rule of law that binds neither by text nor by
any particular, identifiable tradition is no rule of law at all.
Michael H. v.
Gerald D. (Brennan, J., dissenting)
If we had looked to tradition with such specificity in past cases, many a decision would have reached a different result. Surely the use of contraceptives by unmarried couples, Eisenstadt v. Baird, 405 U.S. 438 (1972), or even by married couples, Griswold v. Connecticut, 381 U.S. 479 (1965); were not "interest[s] traditionally protected by our society," ante, at 122, at the time of their consideration by this Court. If we had asked, therefore, in Eisenstadt [or] Griswold whether the specific interest under consideration had been traditionally protected, the answer would have been a resounding "no." That we did not ask this question in those cases highlights the novelty of the interpretive method that the plurality opinion employs today.
The plurality's interpretive method is more than novel; it is misguided. It ignores the good reasons for limiting the role of "tradition" in interpreting the Constitution's deliberately capacious language. In the plurality's constitutional universe, we may not take notice of the fact that the original reasons for the conclusive presumption of paternity are out of place in a world in which blood tests can prove virtually beyond a shadow of a doubt who sired a particular child and in which the fact of illegitimacy no longer plays the burdensome and stigmatizing role it once did. Nor, in the plurality's world, may we deny "tradition" its full scope by pointing out that the rationale for the conventional rule has changed over the years, as has the rationale for Cal. Evid. Code Ann. 621 (West Supp. 1989); instead, our task is simply to identify a rule denying the asserted interest and not to ask whether the basis for that rule - which is the true reflection of the values undergirding it - has changed too often or too recently to call the rule embodying that rationale a "tradition." Moreover, by describing the decisive question as whether Michael's and Victoria's interest is one that has been "traditionally protected by our society," ante, at 122 (emphasis added), rather than one that society traditionally has thought important (with or without protecting it), and by suggesting that our sole function is to "discern the society's views," ante, at 128, n. 6 (emphasis added), the plurality acts as if the only purpose of the Due Process Clause is to confirm the importance of interests already protected by a majority of the States. Transforming the protection afforded by the Due Process Clause into a redundancy mocks those who, with care and purpose, wrote the Fourteenth Amendment.
In construing the Fourteenth Amendment to offer shelter only to those interests specifically protected by historical practice, moreover, the plurality ignores the kind of society in which our Constitution exists. We are not an assimilative, homogeneous society, but a facilitative, pluralistic one, in which we must be willing to abide someone else's unfamiliar or even repellent practice because the same tolerant impulse protects our own idiosyncracies. Even if we can agree, therefore, that "family" and "parenthood" are part of the good life, it is absurd to assume that we can agree on the content of those terms and destructive to pretend that we do. In a community such as ours, "liberty" must include the freedom not to conform. The plurality today squashes this freedom by requiring specific approval from history before protecting anything in the name of liberty.
The document that the plurality construes today is unfamiliar to me. It is not the living charter that I have taken to be our Constitution; it is instead a stagnant, archaic, hidebound document steeped in the prejudices and superstitions of a time long past. This Constitution does not recognize that times change, does not see that sometimes a practice or rule outlives its foundations. I cannot accept an interpretive method that does such violence to the charter that I am bound by oath to uphold.