Introduction
The judiciary, in common with all occupations, projects an image of its key attributes. Judicial conduct, especially in court, is expected to embody the abstract rational authority of law and to be without emotion (Green and Roiphe Reference Green and Roiphe2008; Maroney Reference Maroney2011b). Similar to other professions, the conventional model of judging disavows emotion and valorizes impersonal detachment (Weber Reference Weber, Roth and Wittich1978; Bandes Reference Bandes2001, Reference Bandes2009; Bandes and Blumenthal Reference Bandes and Blumenthal2012; Davies Reference Davies2017). This dominant image of the judge as rational decision maker and of judging as without emotion “is a cultural script of unusual longevity and potency” (Maroney Reference Maroney2011b, 630).
Remiche (Reference Remiche2015, 99) articulates the concept of the “imagined judge … to embody the imaginary representations a legal culture conveys about its judges. It … refers to the image a society forges for its judges, their role and their power within the system.”Footnote 1 Such images are produced in various places, from textual and graphical depictions of the judicial role to actual judicial performance, especially in court (Moran Reference Moran2009; Remiche Reference Remiche2015; Judicial Images Project 2017; Davies Reference Davies, Milner Davis and Roach Anleu2018). More broadly, Weber’s (Reference Weber, Shils and Finch1949) concept of the ideal type is an analytical construct that emphasizes certain possible elements of a phenomenon against which empirical reality can be measured.
Written ethics codes or guides for judicial conduct (hereafter “ethics guidance”) can therefore be a source for some qualities or attributes of the “imagined judge” or “ideal type.”Footnote 2 These written sources “typically identify the organization’s conduct standards … and the organization’s core values” (Treviño et al. Reference Treviño, den Nieuwenboer and Kish-Gephart2014, 638). Although ethics guidance is only a component of the wider “ethical infrastructure” or ethical context,Footnote 3 it is one of the most visible, well documented, and commonly studied (Tenbrunsel and Smith-Crowe Reference Tenbrunsel and Smith-Crowe2008; Treviño et al. Reference Treviño, den Nieuwenboer and Kish-Gephart2014). Codes of conduct or ethics guides are often associated with professionalization and the maintenance of professional status,Footnote 4 sometimes implying emotion management as part of detached professional service (Wilensky Reference Wilensky1964; Abbott Reference Abbott1983, Reference Abbott1988). In her discussion of emotional labor, Hochschild (Reference Hochschild1983, 153) notes that professions “supervise their own emotional labor by considering informal professional norms and client expectations.”
Ethics guidance typically calls for the judicial officer to maintain decorum in court proceedings while being patient, courteous, and dignified and displaying a demeanor of emotionless detachment (United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime 2002; American Bar Association 2011; Council of Chief Justices of Australia and New Zealand 2017; Judiciary of England and Wales 2018; see also Shetreet Reference Shetreet and Shetreet2014). These qualities are thought to reinforce core judicial values of independence, impartiality, and integrity and so advance public confidence (Green and Roiphe Reference Green and Roiphe2008; American Bar Association 2011; Council of Chief Justices of Australia and New Zealand 2017).
However, conceptions of the imagined or ideal-type judge do not, and perhaps cannot or are not meant to, exactly capture the realities of everyday work. Practical tasks and everyday contingencies cause departures from the abstract model. One characterization of this gap is found in Higgins’s (Reference Higgins1987, Reference Higgins1989) self-discrepancy theory, which distinguishes internalized self-guides that include the ideal (or aspirational) self and the ought (or obliged) self. External influences such as ethics guidance and norms, for example, may be internalized as part of the ideal or ought self-standards through processes such as professional socialization, education, and training. The relationship between the actual self (or self-concept) and these regulatory standards “determines the emotional impact of such standards” (Strauman Reference Strauman1996, 1142). Any gap or discrepancy between self-appraisal and the standards will affect the individual emotional experience, as well as the motivational function of the standards (see also Higgins Reference Higgins1999; Brockner and Higgins Reference Brockner and Higgins2001; Gorman et al. Reference Gorman, Meriac, Overstreet, Apodaca, McIntyre, Park and Godbey2012; Lanaj, Chang, and Johnson Reference Lanaj and Johnson2012).
As a cultural construct, the imagined judge (although aspirational) will inevitably influence judicial officers’ understandings of their role and approach to everyday work. In court, the judicial officer must connect the abstract norms of ethics guidance with the concrete activities and practical constraints of the courtroom (Roach Anleu and Mack Reference Roach Anleu and Mack2017). Courts are constituted by relationships and associated formal and informal interactions. They can be places of dense emotion, and judicial officers must engage in face-to-face interactions with participants—parties, witnesses, lawyers—who experience and display an array of feelings. Throughout these interactions, judicial officers must be aware of norms of judicial behavior and so conduct themselves with patience, courtesy, dignity, and decorum. Indeed, the specification of these qualities implicitly acknowledges the presence of interaction and therefore emotion in judicial work and the need for its regulation. Translating these abstract ethics precepts into everyday court work entails considerable emotion and emotion work (Roach Anleu and Mack Reference Roach Anleu and Mack2005; Bandes Reference Bandes2009; Maroney Reference Maroney2011a; Richmond Reference Richmond2012; Goodman Reference Goodman2013; Rudolph and Tscharaktschiew Reference Rudolph and Tscharaktschiew2014; Bergman Blix and Wettergren Reference Bergman Blix and Wettergren2016, Reference Bergman Blix and Wettergren2018).Footnote 5 Legal professionals, including judicial officers, can also use emotion (both experience and expression) as a resource to further individual or institutional legal objectives (Ashforth and Humphrey Reference Ashforth and Humphrey1993, Reference Ashforth and Humphrey1995; Scheer Reference Scheer2012; Bergman Blix and Wettergren Reference Bergman Blix and Wettergren2018; Roach Anleu and Mack Reference Roach Anleu and Mack2019).
How do judicial officers manage the emotional and practical demands of everyday judicial work, in light of the abstract norms and values of expected judicial conduct? How do judicial officers translate the qualities of the imagined judge—patience, courtesy, dignity, and emotional detachment—into their everyday judging practice?
These questions are addressed by a case study in Australia. The case study approach enables in-depth investigation of one jurisdiction, which can be the basis for subsequent comparative analysis (Ragin Reference Ragin1987; Flyvbjerg Reference Flyvbjerg2006). The first step is to analyze two leading sources of judicial conduct guidance in Australia: the Australasian Institute of Judicial Administration’s Guide to Judicial Conduct (2017), or AIJA Guide, and Thomas’s Judicial Ethics in Australia (Reference Thomas2009) to identify their approaches to emotion in judicial work and the attributes of the imagined judge they project. Next, in-depth interviews with judicial officers across all levels of court investigate their experiences of and perceptions about emotions in their work. These interviews reveal the considerable emotion management demanded of the judicial officer to achieve the desired qualities or behaviors, as well as their sometimes limited capacity. Comparing the interview findings with the available guidance in the two sources reveals an apparent incongruity between their portrayal of the imagined judge and the realities of everyday judicial work.
Judicial Ethical Guidance in Australia
Judiciaries have varied sources that identify required, expected, or desired judicial conduct and demeanor. These can be thought of as articulating attributes of the imagined judge or as a component of an ethical infrastructure of the judiciary. Some jurisdictions have official codes of conduct enforced by formal disciplinary processes. For example, in the United States, the American Bar Association’s Model Code of Judicial Conduct (2011), or ABA Code, has been adopted (or adapted with some modification) by most states. These states, in turn, have established judicial conduct commissions to investigate complaints against judicial officers, and where founded, impose disciplinary sanctions (Gray Reference Gray2007).
Guidance about judicial conduct may also be found in statements of appropriate or desirable judicial conduct that may (or may not) be enforceable via formal discipline procedures.Footnote 6 The Bangalore Principles of Judicial Conduct is an example (United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime 2002). It provides normative statements that indicate how judicial officers ought to conduct themselves, and it offers or implies standards of good judging.Footnote 7
Various “artifacts” of judicial work (Maroney Reference Maroney, Conway and Stannard2016), including written decisions, extracurial publications, presentations, and personal accounts, may also indicate qualities of the imagined judge and become part of the ethical infrastructure. Other sources of ethics guidance include professional development or judicial education programs, conferences or seminars, and benchbooks. Any of these additional components of the ethical infrastructure might address the demands for and practical strategies regarding emotion work in courtroom contexts (Roach Anleu, Elek, and Mack Reference Roach Anleu, Elek and Mack2019).Footnote 8
This article focuses on published guides to judicial conduct. These are readily accessible to all judicial officers in ways that other diverse sources may not be. Formal statements can go beyond practical or instrumental functions and may have symbolic or expressive importance for the judiciary as a whole as well as for individual judicial officers, providing an identifiable compendium of broad professional norms and values.
In Australia, two published sources offer ethical guidance untied to any formal disciplinary mechanism or process. The AIJA Guide, now in its third edition (2017), was developed by the Australasian Institute of Judicial Administration and approved by the Council of Chief Justices of Australia and New Zealand. The AIJA Guide does not provide a formal or official basis for judicial discipline in the way the ABA Code is used.Footnote 9 It states, “This publication does not purport to be a code in any sense of that word, or to lay down rules. It purposely avoids using the expression ‘judicial ethics’ or describing conduct as ‘unethical’” (AIJA 2017, 2 [1.2]). It supports an image of the individual judge as part of a self-regulating profession, independent of external regulation or requirements. Despite this disclaimer, the AIJA Guide can still be regarded as part of the ethical infrastructure of the Australian judiciary because it propounds normative expectations for judicial conduct.
The AIJA Guide articulates three objectives—public confidence, respect, and reputation—based on three basic principles: impartiality, judicial independence, and integrity and personal behavior (AIJA 2017, 5 [2]). These principles are similar to other sources, whether or not they have a formal regulatory function. The ABA Code emphasizes the importance of “public confidence in the independence, impartiality and integrity of the judiciary” (ABA 2011, canon 1 and rule 1.2),Footnote 10 as does the Bangalore Principles, in which value 1 is independence, value 2 is impartiality, and value 3 is integrity (United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime 2002; see also Devlin and Dodek Reference Devlin and Dodek2016).
The other key source for Australia is Judicial Ethics in Australia, written by James Thomas, a former judge of the Queensland Court of Appeal, published in three editions, each increasing in scope and detail (Thomas Reference Thomas1988, Reference Thomas1997, Reference Thomas2009). Like the AIJA Guide, Thomas’s Judicial Ethics is influenced by standards set by a variety of international organizations and other nations. In contrast to the AIJA Guide, Thomas explicitly frames concerns about judicial conduct as a matter of ethics. While this book has no official standing, it is nonetheless also part of the ethical infrastructure of the Australian judiciary. The AIJA Guide acknowledges reliance on it, and it has been described as “a pioneering work” (Sackville Reference Sackville2015, 245). Its importance derives from its status as the first Australian publication of its kind.
Thomas’s Judicial Ethics does not systematically enunciate guiding principles; rather, it is designed to “assist a reasoned solution to many types of ethical difficulty” using “actual … examples of behaviour” (Thomas Reference Thomas2009, xv). This will sometimes involve the mention of features of judicial conduct that Thomas regards as essential. For example, hearing both sides is described as “one of the fundamental principles of the system” (22 [4.3]) and is emphasized elsewhere in relation to judicial misconduct of various sorts (e.g., 23–24 [4.3], 24 [4.6]). It provides many anecdotes and examples, drawn from the distant and recent past and from several jurisdictions around the world. The book “range[s] from matters of serious principle down to matters of mere etiquette” (7 [1.11]). Its focus is more on misconduct and considers the (in)appropriateness of formal discipline in relation to many of the examples, often with a strong dose of the author’s personal opinions (Ehlers Reference Ehlers2010).
The Imagined Judge
The AIJA Guide and Thomas’s Judicial Ethics, along with the sources that influence them, describe judicial conduct and the values of an imagined judge who is impartial and emotionally detached. The AIJA Guide states that “it is important for judges to maintain a standard of behaviour in court that is consistent with the status of judicial office and does not diminish the confidence of litigants in particular, and the public in general, in the ability, the integrity, the impartiality and the independence of the judge. It is therefore desirable to display such personal attributes as punctuality, courtesy, patience, tolerance and good humour” (AIJA 2017, 19 [4.1]). It continues: “The entitlement of everyone who comes to court—counsel, litigants and witnesses alike—to be treated in a way that respects their dignity should be constantly borne in mind… . The absence of any intention to offend a witness or a litigant does not lessen the impact,” adding that “a judge must be firm but fair in the maintenance of decorum, and above all evenhanded” (19 [4.1]).
The judicial qualities desired for in-court interaction are described in very similar terms by the ABA Code. Rule 2.8A provides that “a judge shall require order and decorum in proceedings before the court,” and rule 2.8B states that “a judge shall be patient, dignified, and courteous” (ABA 2011). The Bangalore Principles states that “a judge shall maintain order and decorum in all proceedings before the court and be patient, dignified and courteous” (United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime 2002, [6.6]).
Regardless of the formal authority of the source or the disciplinary consequences, the expected or desired judicial conduct is articulated in strikingly similar terms, suggesting these qualities are essential attributes of the imagined judge. These requirements reflect qualities of detachment or distance, understood to be markers of impartiality and necessary for maintaining public confidence in the judiciary (Green and Roiphe Reference Green and Roiphe2008). The emphasis on the status of the judicial office and on being firm and maintaining decorum reinforces the view that “the ideal judge, as described by codes of judicial conduct, is unreadable, detached, and impersonal” (Lens Reference Lens2016, 714). The need for fairness and being evenhanded reflects the ideal of impartiality and links to the need for decorum, reinforcing the idea of judicial authority as formal and impersonal and the imagined judge as detached and emotionless.
At the same time, the AIJA Guide characterizes these and other important qualities as “personal attributes”: punctuality, courtesy, patience, tolerance, and good humor (AIJA 2017, 19 [4.1]). The display of these qualities appears to be thought to convey a judicial officer’s individual capacities and conduct, rather than being attributes of the formal legal judicial role that should be manifested regardless of personal differences. These admonitions, along with the expectation of recognizing the dignity of those who come to court, implicitly acknowledge the importance of social interaction and interpersonal skills to judicial work. Further, the guidelines assume that others in court may be acting in ways that demand judicial patience, courtesy, and tolerance or the maintenance of decorum.
Later, the AIJA Guide points out that “particular care should be taken to avoid causing unnecessary hurt in the exercise of the judicial function. This includes taking care about comments made in court … and observations made in reasons for judgment or in remarks on sentence” (AIJA 2017, 21 [4.8]). The “hurt” referred to appears to include emotional hurt as well as other harms, such as loss of privacy. This is the only occasion in which the Guide refers directly to emotional aspects of in-court judicial conduct and communication. This is a rare specific exhortation for judicial officers to engage in the management of the emotions of others involved in the court process.
In contrast, Thomas’s approach is less abstract; Judicial Ethics provides many anecdotes and examples, nearly always of poor judicial behavior. By emphasizing what the judge ought not do, Thomas vividly depicts the opposite of the imagined judge. These examples of judicial deviance reinforce the importance of the courtesy, patience, decorum, and detachment expected of the imagined judge (Roach Anleu Reference Roach Anleu2006).
Notably, Judicial Ethics frequently uses the explicit language of emotion to characterize unethical behavior. It describes the emergence of impatience, frustration, aggression, or hostility. Thomas (Reference Thomas2009, 31 [4.18]) points out that “judges deal daily with highly charged events and troublesome social issues, and must state reasons for the solution they choose… . Years of judicial experience and of temperate judging are forgotten when a misguided statement comes out.” This passage contains direct emotion language to describe the judicial role. The “highly charged” and “troublesome” cases that come before the court generate emotional responses, perhaps in the parties to the case, the legal representatives, the public, or even the judicial officer. The praise for “temperate” judging implies the value of well-managed emotions on the part of the judicial officer. However, according to Thomas, “from time to time, judges make needless remarks that cause offence to litigants or community groups” (31 [4.18]). Describing the response as an “offence” implies an emotional response on the part of listeners or others aware of the statements.
The qualities and conduct endorsed (or criticized) in these sources are about presentation of the judicial self. These precepts identify institutionally specific emotions or emotion display (Goffman Reference Goffman1959)—dignity, decorum, courtesy, and patience—that are compatible with judicial detachment or impersonality. Their accomplishment can support a perception of judicial impartiality and reinforce the imagined judge. However, the interactional nature of in-court work can make the achievement of these qualities depend on emotion management, which is neither explicitly recognized nor articulated in ethical guidance but necessarily implied.
This raises the question of how judicial officers manage the “fit” between their emotional experiences of judicial work and the ethical guidance that presupposes the detached, emotionless, impersonal judge, reflected in qualities such as dignity or maintaining decorum. In-depth, face-to-face interviews with judicial officers throughout Australia address this question.
Research Design
In-depth, face-to-face interviews with judicial officers throughout Australia are essential to understand the emotional experiences of judicial work, to gauge the fit between judicial accounts and the ethical guides, and to understand the implicit or informal elements of the ethical infrastructure and the imagined judge. In the absence of other sources that flesh out the more general or aspiration guidance, interviews enable investigation of the less formal or less visible elements of the judicial ethical infrastructure and reveal more depth about the nature of the imagined judge. Interviews were semistructured, with questions based around key issues identified from the authors’ previous research. Interview questions were open-ended, allowing interviewees to discuss a full range of issues from their own perspective and in their own words, based on their experiences and knowledge (Silverman Reference Silverman, Denzin and Lincoln2000, Reference Silverman2015; Mason Reference Mason2002; Denzin and Lincoln Reference Denzin and Lincoln2005; Gubrium et al. Reference Gubrium, Holstein, Marvasti and McKinney2012; Holmes Reference Holmes2015).
Potential interviewees were identified from lists of all judicial officers, obtained primarily from court websites, informed by suggestions from judicial officers, the four pilot interviews, academics who have worked with judicial officers in a variety of capacities, and the Australian authors’ own knowledge of and experience with judicial officers throughout Australia. The aim was to obtain a wide cross-section of the judiciary. The 38 interviewees come from all levels of court in every state and territory in metropolitan (
) and regional/suburban locations (
) but not federal courts. Nineteen of the interviewees are men, and 19 are women. Seventeen of the interviewees are magistrates (10 women; seven men); the others are judges (nine women; 12 men).
All interviews were conducted between August 2012 and December 2013. Interviews ranged in length from 25 minutes to 1 hour and 33 minutes, all undertaken by Sharyn Roach Anleu. Extensive analysis of the transcript data was undertaken using the software package NVivo. Following several readings of the transcripts, recurrent themes were identified and nodes developed to capture the complexity of emotion management (as well as other themes from the interviews). The interviews were double-coded by Sharyn Roach Anleu and a research assistant, paying special attention to different interpretations and the need for multiple codes for this textual data.
Discussion about emotion emerged in different ways during the interviews, most often in response to specific questions about the importance of interpersonal skills or the stressful nature of the job. Probes or follow-up questions might ask specifically about the role of emotion or emotion management in everyday judicial work. Questions about other aspects of work, such as understandings of impartiality, also elicited responses regarding perceptions and experiences of emotion among judicial officers.
Scheer (Reference Scheer2012, 218) poses the question, “How do we know when a source is talking about an emotion?” Some interviewees used specific emotion words such as “anger” or “frustrated” or referred more generally to their feelings in the situations they described. Sometimes interviewees described physical manifestations of emotion such as feeling sick or crying. Similarly, in describing other court participants, some interviewees directly labeled their demeanor or conduct as emotional or as indicating specific emotions such as anxiety, distress, or anger, or they identified behavior such as shouting to imply a particular emotion. Emotion can also be implicit, as when an interviewee discussed a situation that clearly entails emotion, such as the experience of a victim of a serious crime, without using explicit emotion words.
In these interviews, judicial officers describe their experiences of emotion and emotion work in court and their perceptions of other participants’ emotions. These interview findings do not indicate the frequency or distribution of emotion across courtrooms generally, where much of the interaction is routine, ordinary, and businesslike (Mack and Roach Anleu Reference Mack and Roach Anleu2010; Travers Reference Travers2017; Tata Reference Tata2019). Other research methodologies, such as court observations, can investigate what judicial officers do as distinct from what they say they do. The aim of this article is to investigate judicial officers’ experiences and perceptions of emotion work, in light of limited formal ethical and conduct guidance.
Judicial Officers’ Perceptions and Experiences of Emotion and Emotion Work
Judicial ethics guidance describes the imagined judge as one who displays dignity, decorum, courtesy, and patience. Interview data demonstrate judicial understanding of the meaning and importance of these qualities in everyday work and the emotion management strategies they use to achieve the specified qualities. These everyday practices simultaneously reproduce and modify the imagined judge.
Dignity and Decorum
Several judicial officers describe emotionally dense situations, in which they had to manage their own emotions as well as those of court users. The background to or goal of such emotion management seems to be a concern to maintain the dignity and decorum of the court. A magistrate elaborates on the importance of managing her own emotions:Footnote 11
These are all human processes we’re very much engaged in, um, perhaps it’s over people just getting material at the last minute that can throw out timetables and throw out everybody’s arrangements and put not only professional people to inconvenience. Um, that’s a sort of thing that might really, um, make me be quite stern but at the end of the day, um, it’s usually not helpful to sort of get carried away. Um, look I think patience is incredibly important,Footnote 12 um, but you know it can be hard to develop as well. Um, and I think I’ve learnt that just descending into, you know, getting cross with various participants although it’s important to maintain the dignity of the court and the processes of the court and be reminding people that, you know, we need to comply with our processes and everything.
(Female magistrate, I32)Footnote 13This judicial officer describes the social relational context of the courtroom where several participants must “coordinate and shape their behavior in relation to others” (Ridgeway Reference Ridgeway2006, 5). When events are not completely coordinated—“timetables” and “arrangements” can be thrown out and the proceedings disrupted—she becomes “quite stern” but recognizes that the outward display of anger or frustration could compromise “the dignity of the court.” When she indicates that “patience is incredibly important,” it is more than a personal quality; it facilitates compliance with “the processes of the court.” Anger and frustration, either experienced or displayed, are “usually not helpful” in the context of courts as legal institutions. The reminder of the need “to comply with our processes” is an appeal to a higher loyalty—following correct legal procedure—and so removes the interaction from the purely interpersonal to the institutional (Sykes and Matza Reference Sykes and Matza1957). These comments implicitly acknowledge the importance of the judicial role as the embodiment of the (impersonal) authority of the courts and law, thereby reinforcing the imagined judge.
The AIJA Guide refers to “perception,” “display,” and “impression,” indicating the importance of how court participants interpret the judge’s emotional display or lack thereof (AIJA 2017, 8 [2.3], 19 [4.1]). A detached, dispassionate demeanor may or may not achieve the goal of generating perceptions of fairness, propriety, or respect. Detachment, depending on how expressed, can suggest to some participants that their own emotional experience is not being adequately acknowledged or accommodated. Ethical guidance really calls on judicial officers to understand and anticipate how court participants perceive judicial demeanor and for judicial officers to have the self-knowledge to regulate their conduct accordingly.
Another judicial officer describes a situation in which “most people who come before you … [find] nothing comforting about the experience at all” and continues: “So people in those strange stress situations behave unusually and if you’re not careful you can be, in my view, too quick to judge what otherwise might well have been a person just exhibiting nervousness so you need to be able to put them at rest and you’ve got to do that—by the same token people respond aggressively as it’s the fight or flight syndrome so you know they might be contemptuous. You’ve got to defuse the contempt” (male magistrate, I07). This comment distinguishes emotion self-management from the management of the emotions of another person in the courtroom. This magistrate recognizes that the courtroom is a social, relational context and understands judicial work as requiring attention to and anticipation of the feelings and behavior of others, as part of courtroom management. He understands that the behavior of court users might breach judicial expectations of courtroom decorum. Emotion displays could be incorrectly regarded as deliberate misconduct, when “a person is just exhibiting nervousness,” perhaps normal for someone unfamiliar with the court context. This magistrate distinguishes understandable anxiety from aggression or fear—implied by reference to the “fight or flight syndrome”—which may result in inappropriate, “contemptuous” behavior. In either case, it is the judicial officer who defines, labels, and manages the perceived emotion that other participants express.
Judicial officers differ somewhat on how best to manage what they interpret as emotionally difficult circumstances in court. This perhaps reflects different personalities or differences in the embodiment of judicial authority. One example is the use of tone of voice. A male judge uses his voice as the embodiment of authority, speaking in a “firm voice,” and he will even “shout louder”: “Well it depends on what’s happening and what the witness does and what sort of person the witness is. If it’s a big bullying man who starts shouting, I shout louder, and I’ve got the authority to shut him up, and he does. If it’s, I mean just to take stereotypes… . If it’s a female who’s getting hysterical I try to calm her down but in a firm voice, you know, to make sure she knows she can’t go on screaming at parties in court—so you’ve got to be aware of the signs of various emotions” (male judge, I08). This comment demonstrates that emotion management strategies may not be compassionate or benign. The interaction may be a location of judicial aggression and gender stereotyping (Carlen Reference Carlen1976; Travers Reference Travers2017). In contrast, a woman magistrate lowers her voice as an emotion management strategy to quiet down somebody who is anxious or angry, thereby maintaining the dignity of the courtroom: “I think your tone of voice is a very good tool … for somebody who’s in a heightened state of anxiety or anger, I’ve found that if I lower my voice, lower the tone of my voice and the volume rather than if you shout at them they just get worse but they are often quietened down as well—at least enough for you to be able to say what you need to say” (female magistrate, I09).
These comments identify two approaches to maintaining the dignity and decorum of the court in the face of challenging emotional demands.Footnote 14 In these circumstances, judicial conduct is inextricably enmeshed in the behavior of others, demonstrating the deeply interrelational nature of judicial work, which can undercut the image of the judge as entirely detached and impersonal. In both instances, the judicial officer espouses institutional expectations and affirms judicial authority within the direct communications with courtroom participants. In the first excerpt, the judicial officer wants to “make sure … she can’t go on screaming.” In the second, the judicial officer needs “to be able to say what you need to say.”
Such interactional challenges faced by judicial officers, and their different responses, are not directly addressed either by the AIJA Guide or Thomas’s Judicial Ethics. Thomas is concerned about identifying poor conduct, with numerous examples. The focus tends to be on the individual judicial officer, rather than the context, and on discerning the threshold of how wrong is wrong enough to amount to misconduct. The AIJA Guide, while promoting a more positive approach to judicial conduct, does not directly provide strategies for achieving decorum or maintaining the dignity of court.
Courtesy and Patience
Patience and courtesy are important social qualities in themselves, albeit culturally and historically specific, as well as normative goals, indicating respect for the dignity of others, which judicial officers should display to all with whom they deal.Footnote 15 Judicial courtesy and patience play several important roles in court proceedings, including emotion management. Their display acknowledges the person appearing before the judicial officer, and perhaps their feelings, as a way of respecting their dignity (see AIJA 2017, 19 [4.1]). It can also be a way of maintaining some degree of formality, and so enhancing the decorum of court proceedings (see AIJA 2017, 19 [4.1]), by using terms of address such as “Mr.” rather than more informal language (Green and Roiphe Reference Green and Roiphe2008). Patience and courtesy also appear to be closely linked in judicial practice, while judicial impatience can be reflected in a lack of courtesy.
Several interviewees emphasize courtesy in ways that implicitly or explicitly delineate their conception of the judicial role and the ethical parameters for their work: “You have to be courteous, considerate, but nobody’s friend. There are occasions when you’re dealing with unrepresented people that you have to go out of your way to explain to them so that you’re sure that they’re understanding what’s happening” (male magistrate, I26). The third edition of Thomas’s Judicial Ethics adds material expressing concern about judicial frustration with litigants in person, suggesting that this is an aspect of the changing judicial role demanding a more interactive judicial approach: “The frustrations arising from dealing with unrepresented litigants can easily lead to judicial aggression that can give a litigant a strong impression of unfairness and prejudgment” (Thomas Reference Thomas2009, 24 [4.5]). This deviation from the ethical expectation of courtesy can generate an apparent breach of the central value of impartiality. The judicial emotions that unrepresented litigants can trigger are due to the kind of human interaction required but that has not been regarded as part of the formal detached judicial role. These emotions also arise because of the absence of shared definitions of the situation between lay and professional participants (Ridgeway 2006). This challenge is not addressed in the AIJA Guide. The only guidance specifically addressing unrepresented litigants is to be careful of “informal exchanges between the judge and counsel” to avoid an “impression that … the proceedings” are “an activity of an exclusive group” (AIJA 2017, 19 [4.1]).
The magistrate above (I26) also indicates that courtesy is an important aspect of visible judicial conduct, but it should not indicate any deeper interpersonal connection. A judicial officer is “nobody’s friend,” reinforcing the overarching value of impartiality in judging and the associated emphasis on judicial emotionlessness, dispassion, and distance (Goodman Reference Goodman2013). In this way, the cultural image of the judge can restrict the performance and realization of some ethical precepts. For example, one interviewee emphasizes the importance of showing courtesy to everyone involved in the court process, but this is limited by the institutional need for the judicial officer to control court proceedings. As she explains, “Treating people with courtesy and respect is the first thing you need to always do, whether it’s the staff, whether it’s the litigants or the other players, solicitors and so on, um. But being aware of vulnerabilities and making sure that other people don’t take advantage of them within the court that you’re controlling” (female magistrate, I28). This magistrate associates courtesy with respect, but if courtesy interferes with maintaining courtroom control or does not succeed in curbing the inappropriate or time-wasting emotional behavior of others, then more direct judicial control must be exercised. Again, it is within the authority of the judicial officer to determine when and how these boundaries have been transgressed.
Another judicial officer describes difficulties of “listening and being courteous,” because there are times when
we get a lot of difficult people before us in court, not only defendants but also some very bad lawyers, you know, when I mean bad I don’t mean bad, I mean very unskilled lawyers and sometimes it’s quite difficult to deal with them and difficult not to be rude but we’ve got to try and we’ve got to try not to—some people have a difficulty I know with listening quietly and knowing the right time to intervene and stop somebody on a particular course because if you just sit there and passively—there’s a tension between passive and active judging I think too and if you just sit there passively you could be there for three times the amount of time that it actually takes but, and we don’t have that luxury—if it’s a luxury.
(Female magistrate, I09)This judicial officer explicitly connects the limits of courtesy to time pressures in court and describes the difficulty of maintaining courtesy and managing her own emotions, especially in relation to lawyers or parties who are not able to present what is needed in a timely or effective way, a consistent problem in magistrate courts where this interviewee presides. Interestingly, she comments that “we’ve got to try.” A commitment to the imagined emotionless, detached judge may drive this aspiration. Similarly, judicial patience has limits, if participants are not moving things along in a busy court. This can result in anger and frustration on the part of the judicial officer, so that the management of the emotions of others is intertwined with the management of the judicial officer’s own emotions (Maroney Reference Maroney2012).
The tension felt by judicial officers between the demands of case processing and behaving with courtesy and patience is not addressed directly or in detail in the available guides. Thomas’s Judicial Ethics recognizes a more active role for the judiciary to move cases along, but it does not link this to limits on courtesy or patience: “There is also a growing expectation that judges should take a more interventionist role than was formerly the case. Judges now go to considerable lengths to ensure that time is not wasted and that the cost of litigation is minimised” (Reference Thomas2009, 27 [4.12]). The ABA Code (2011) stresses that these values need not be in conflict. The commentary on rule 2.3 states that “the duty to hear all proceedings with patience and courtesy is not inconsistent with the duty imposed in Rule 2.5 to dispose promptly of the business of the court. Judges can be efficient and businesslike while being patient and deliberate” (see also Mack and Roach Anleu Reference Mack and Roach Anleu2007; Roach Anleu and Mack Reference Roach Anleu and Mack2017). However, it provides no concrete assistance on how to reconcile the duties. There is no similar claim in the AIJA Guide.
Considerable harm can be done by lack of courtesy, as this magistrate explains, but it is also important to balance courtesy with maintaining judicial authority and “not putting up with rubbish”:
There’s nothing worse than a rude judicial officer or an unfair judicial officer in the sense of um, we all have experiences with new lawyers and lawyers who say silly things and you know walk, walking that line between being able to pick someone up for something that is just blatant, plainly a silly thing to say, um, and not, but not humiliating them. It’s a case of, “yes I’ve heard that and I don’t agree with that, let’s move on to something else” but doing that in a courteous and tactful way so I think courtesy and tact—but at the same time not putting up with rubbish.
(Female magistrate, I32)This magistrate also identifies the practical and emotional importance of how the magistrate’s attitude toward the substance of the submission and the need for time management expectations are communicated.
Thomas’s Judicial Ethics states that “impatience is understandable, and sometimes unavoidable or even beneficial. But more often it is a judicial weakness that threatens a fair hearing” (Reference Thomas2009, 21 [4.2]). In this passage, Thomas identifies impatience as a personal failure or human weakness rather than the product of the institutional context. The fault of impatience or lack of courtesy, and many other examples of emotionally inappropriate judicial behavior criticized by Thomas, is precisely that they impair the fairness or evenhandedness, or at least the appearance of these qualities, essential to judicial performance of impartiality and reproduction of the imagined judge.
Patience and courtesy may have practical functions in a busy courtroom where emotions can run high. A judicial officer’s outward display of courtesy may in turn elicit courtesy in others and so avoid or defuse inappropriate emotional conduct or expression on the part of others in court. One judicial officer explicitly requests reciprocal courtesy from a court user, even one who has been extremely abusive, as a way to “defuse contempt.” He continues: “Let’s say the abuse was derogative [sic] of me or something about the court or the process, I generally have a standard line that goes something like, ‘Mr so and so, I understand that you were stressed, you’re behaving unusually, I would hope that given, that you would take the view that the court’s given you every consideration, courtesy extended to you—we ask for nothing more than courtesy and consideration in return’ and it’s a prop [sic] ‘Oh I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I understand’” (male magistrate, I07). This magistrate describes a very concrete strategy for recognizing and managing the emotions of court users, as well as implicitly managing his own emotions, when faced with abuse directed at him personally or about the court. His strategy contains a routinized and “standard” response that engages with a court participant but not in an individual, particular, familiar, or personal way.
Another judge talks about his role in establishing an emotional climate in the courtroom so that different participants “feel at home” in court.
The litigants, the solicitors, or other people who might be in court, witnesses, making them feel at home so you have to be able to, um, you have to be able to have a good rapport with people generally and particularly the people who appear in front of you and you have to have patience with them. I’ve just finished a case with an unrepresented party, the case went for four days, the other side was represented by a barrister, um, and it’s, that wasn’t at all an unusual case for an unrepresented party but judges generally find it very frustrating dealing with unrepresented parties. So it’s very important with them to make them feel as though they’re listened to and their cases are important and that they get a fair hearing and so you really have—so patience is a very important virtue for a judge.
(Male judge, I20)This judge links patience with procedural justice values, of ensuring that people in court “feel as though they’re listened to and their cases are important” (see Lind and Tyler Reference Lind and Tyler1988; Tyler Reference Tyler1990; Burke and Leben Reference Burke and Leben2007–8). Careful listening can also enable better understanding of participants and produce better decisions, as well as improving emotion management. This interviewee indicates the need for emotion work, in the form of patience, to manage his own feelings of frustration and to ensure that the hearing is actually fair in substance, as well as being perceived as fair.
As these judicial officers recognize, and as ethical precepts expect, patience and courtesy are essential judicial attributes. However, the interviewees describe greater complexity in their experience, display, and use of judicial courtesy and patience than is articulated by the ethical sources. Judicial officers expressly identify the importance of patience and courtesy as intrinsically, socially, and judicially appropriate demeanors and as qualities that can be applied to their own emotions and emotional display and to those in court. They also understand these qualities as having instrumental functions, assisting in courtroom management, as well as having limits or boundaries. Judicial courtesy can engender a reciprocal display of courtesy on the part of another in court and so contribute to the maintenance of decorum. As other interviewees point out, there are limits to the usefulness of patience and courtesy, if they lead to loss of courtroom control. This can feel especially acute when time pressures require imposing limits on unskilled or dilatory conduct.
The general ethical admonitions that a judicial officer should be patient or courteous do not capture or reflect this complexity. Judicial officers themselves must delineate the judicial role in the face of practical interpersonal demands and competing abstract ethical expectations.
Discussion: Comparing Judicial Experience with Ethical Guidance
Comparing the general or abstract statements in the AIJA Guide, and the more extensive anecdotes in Thomas’s Judicial Ethics, with the actual emotional experiences and practices of judicial officers in their everyday work illustrates important elements of the ethical infrastructure in Australia and the qualities of the imagined judge. Judicial officers describe emotion-dense situations in court. They sometimes use the language of emotion or refer to specific emotions—for example, empathy, anger, frustration—when describing their experience, or they describe their approach as valuing or relying on an emotion. Others speak of their emotional reactions in behavioral terms such as raising or lowering their voices, or they describe the physical conduct of others that indicate emotions, such as crying or shouting. Interviewees sometimes talk about emotion when they describe situations, such as taking account of a victim’s experience, that involve emotion, but they do not specifically label an emotion as such.
Through these descriptions, judicial officers articulate their conceptions of the judicial role and its boundaries. These conceptions locate formal ethical requirements or articulate informal norms about appropriate judicial conduct and expression as components of the wider ethical infrastructure. They also reveal, and challenge, attributes of the imagined judge.
Judicial emotion management requires identification of some judicial emotion or related conduct as appropriate or inappropriate in the courtroom when assessed against qualities of the imagined judge (Roach Anleu, Mack, and Tutton Reference Roach Anleu, Mack and Tutton2014). Attributes consistently articulated by the AIJA Guide (and the ABA and other sources) include patience, courtesy, dignity, and decorum either as an achieved emotional state or as a display. Thomas’s Judicial Ethics identifies other displays such as rudeness or impatience as violations of the qualities expected of judicial officers.
When judicial officers themselves describe the emotional aspects of their everyday work and the strategies they use to respond, they often frame their practices in terms of the qualities and values identified in the AIJA Guide such as patience, or they frame them in terms of the conduct that is to be avoided, such as impatience as discussed by Thomas. Only one interviewee explicitly mentioned the AIJA Guide; this person also mentioned Thomas’s work and the breadth of US materials on ethics. While the behaviors articulated by the AIJA Guide or Thomas are a key reference point for the Australian judiciary in regulating and reflecting on their own conduct, and while they appear to be part of their ethical infrastructure, interviewees do not specifically identify the AIJA Guide or Thomas as sources. This may reflect Shetreet’s (Reference Shetreet and Shetreet2014, 294) claim that the content of recent written guides is mainly “declaratory of … existing standards.”
The vivid and emotionally explicit narratives from the judicial officers interviewed contrast with the generic and abstract exhortations or admonitions contained in the AIJA Guide. Overall, the wording of the AIJA Guide, the ABA Code, and the Bangalore Principles as it might relate to judicial emotion is general (“patient, dignified, and courteous”). While such statements imply emotional demands and emotion work to achieve these desired qualities, they do not use the language of emotion. In contrast, Thomas’s Judicial Ethics sometimes uses emotion language, especially when describing specific instances of judicial misbehavior, misconduct, and poor emotion management, but there is little positive guidance. Across these sources, there is very little or no concrete behavioral guidance as to how judicial officers are to achieve these emotional and behavioral goals.
The interviews reveal a range of strategies that judicial officers adopt to manage emotions and achieve an appropriate emotional climate in the courtroom. These strategies aim to maintain overall courtroom decorum and their own dignity as judicial officers; they also aim to respect the dignity of others and thereby elaborate their understanding of the judicial role, reproducing and modifying the imagined judge (Remiche Reference Remiche2015).
As revealed in the interviews, the relationships among the desirable and undesirable qualities are complex. Maintaining decorum may involve being patient or courteous, or it may require different approaches such as insisting on greater formality or speaking sternly, when patience is no longer effective. As Maroney (Reference Maroney2012, 1214) notes, anger can be justified and “be a legitimate basis for judicial action.” Courtesy, patience, dignity, and decorum may be displayed strategically to generate desired emotions, either in the judicial officer or in others in the courtroom. Sometimes judicial officers demand of themselves that they subjectively feel patient and attempt to induce this feeling, to meet the expectations of dispassion. In other cases, they may behave in ways that indicate or display patience or avoid displaying the frustration or impatience they feel subjectively, to maintain the image of the imagined judge as dispassionate and detached.
As well as managing their own emotions and emotion display, judicial officers must manage others’ emotions. One way this can be accomplished is by displaying the patience, tolerance, and courtesy indicated by the ethical precepts. This appearance may be aimed at eliciting a desired emotion in another court participant, for example, to put court users at ease, so that they are not anxious or frightened, or to elicit appropriate reciprocal behavior from those in court. This, in turn, maintains the dignity or decorum of the courtroom as a whole. Many of the strategies and practices judicial officers rely on to manage the emotions of others are personal or embodied, such as tone of voice or facial expressions, or a specific verbal acknowledgment of the emotions a court user may appear to be feeling, such as anxiety or stress.
As described in the interviews, there are clear limits to the observance and display of the prescribed qualities; these may reflect the competing objectives judicial officers must balance in the limited time available in the courtroom. Concerns about courtroom control and time management lead judicial officers to interrupt, to prod or prompt legal representatives, or to become stern or even shout. In some circumstances, this conduct may even be appropriate (Maroney Reference Maroney2012). The demand for and use of emotion depends on context and requires varied emotion strategies on the part of the judicial officer.
Conclusion
Judicial officers across different courts throughout Australia describe complex emotional experiences and management demands; however, this research discloses a substantial lack of fit between the needs of judicial practice and the available guidance. The current AIJA Guide says little directly about emotion or emotion management. This is also true of similar provisions of the ABA Code or the Bangalore Principles. These sources identify qualities such as patience and courtesy, which are thought to communicate impartiality and so engender public confidence. There is limited recognition that these positively required behaviors may be difficult to maintain in the face of strong emotion or provocation. In contrast, Thomas’s Judicial Ethics identifies behaviors that are not acceptable and names judicial emotions that may underlie such conduct. Undesirable judicial behaviors that may be the result of subjective judicial emotion or lack of emotion management are criticized by Thomas because of their inconsistency with the core value of impartiality and their potential to damage public confidence. While these two sources are important components of the Australian ethical infrastructure, neither Thomas’s Judicial Ethics nor the AIJA Guide provides substantial, positive, proactive behavioral guidance on emotion work or emotion management strategies to achieve decorum, patience, courtesy, or dignity in an emotionally demanding and often time-pressured environment.
This research also suggests that the available sources usually consider only individual conduct, framed as “personal,” and do not pay sufficient attention to the courtroom as an interactive context and the various episodes, moments, and situations that judicial officers encounter as they approach their tasks (Roach Anleu and Mack Reference Roach Anleu and Mack2017). As one analysis of judging points out, “Beginning with a definition of a good judge or good judging causes us to focus too much on the qualities or characteristics of [individual] judges, and not enough on the nature of the context or environment in which they make decisions” (Wistrich Reference Wistrich, Klein and Mitchell2010, 257).
This research demonstrates the ways that the imagined judge, while a cultural construct, is not static, but can shift, albeit slowly. In everyday work, a judge must simultaneously embody the law and the related values of dispassion, and he must engage in a social relational context or interaction order in which behavior and activities must be coordinated and emotions managed in ways that are not anticipated by the available ethical guidance (Ridgeway Reference Ridgeway2006). As a result, the imagined judge is both reproduced and modified through the everyday conduct of judicial officers.
Goodman (Reference Goodman2013, 957) suggests risks are posed by the judiciary taking “‘dispassionate judging’ to the extreme” and so losing “sight of the humanity” of others in the court. This suggests that the qualities of the imagined judge should place less emphasis on detachment and dispassion and more on compassion and other human or engaged qualities.
It is important that codes, ethical culture, and judicial leadership are complementary and relate to actual judicial practice. Over time, everyday judicial work may drift from an ethical code or conduct guide’s characterization of the imagined judge, creating tension. The question this article asks is whether that point is now, especially in relation to the emotion aspects of judicial work. The research findings suggest that it is time for judicial leaders to reconsider whether the current judicial guides and codes adequately accommodate the emotional realities of contemporary judging.
The current approaches to judicial ethics in Australia provide primarily abstract precepts (AIJA Guide) or anecdotes of poor judicial conduct (Thomas). Both concentrate on the conduct of individual judicial officers. Sources in other jurisdictions (e.g., the ABA Code) describe conduct in similar abstract terms but within a much different ethical infrastructure, which includes elaboration of the code provisions and complaint and discipline processes to flesh out and apply general precepts, as well as national and local judicial mentoring and education programs (although there may be little or no coordination among these resources). As these research findings show, the experiences and insights of judicial officers themselves can provide concrete direction for developing and expanding ethical guidance that recognizes and assists with the judicial work of managing emotions.
Ultimately, addressing the considerable variety and intensity of judicial emotions and demands for emotion management will require more than revising general guidelines. It will be necessary to engage many elements of ethical infrastructure, including professional development programs and other sources, much more broadly and to explicitly reconstruct the imagined judge, to more closely reflect the realities of judicial practice and culture.
