The legal community has been abuzz in recent days over ProPublica’s Oct. 30 article about North Carolina’s Republican Chief Justice Paul Newby. The piece quickly ricocheted through courtrooms, law offices, and academic circles, as it paints Justice Newby as a stark, even sensational, leader of a judiciary in decline, characterized by partisanship and political maneuvering. As a North Carolina attorney who observes our courts closely and believes deeply in both the rule of law and a fair, functioning judiciary, I take strong issue with ProPublica’s narrative and its fundamental assumptions. The reality of Newby’s leadership and of the changes to the North Carolina Supreme Court deserve clarification, nuance, and a more balanced view than what the article offers.

First, the article troubles itself with the notion that Chief Justice Newby exercised “the stunning and overlooked power of his office,” particularly in connection with a rehearing of a gerrymandering lawsuit. The 2023 rehearing was indeed a rare move, but rare does not equal improper. Judicial rules exist to allow for rehearings in extraordinary circumstances; to suggest this was an abuse rather than an appropriate exercise of authority is itself a politicized judgment. North Carolina’s rules allow for such petitions, and Newby and the majority were within their legal discretion to grant one.

The article consistently conflates conservative judicial philosophy with ethical failings. There is nothing illegitimate about a court majority sharing a philosophy that happens to be conservative, originalist, or textualist. The claim that Newby “destroyed the North Carolina Supreme Court as an impartial institution” borders on the hysterical. One of the defining features of democracy is that courts, legislatures, and executives will disagree. Robust debate is not the destruction of institutions — it is the evidence of their vitality.

The article laments North Carolina’s system of partisan judicial elections, suggesting that Newby was the singular force behind our current system. In truth, North Carolina’s move from nonpartisan to partisan elections reflects a complicated legacy on both sides of the aisle. Democrats made North Carolina’s judicial races nonpartisan in the 1990s for their own political advantage, the same logic Republicans used to change them back. The reality is that judges are elected, not appointed, in our state. This gives the public a meaningful voice, for better or worse. To attribute the entire politicization of the judiciary to a single individual, as ProPublica does, is misleading and ahistorical.

Much is made of Newby’s personnel decisions, from hiring and firing administrative staff to the appointment of judges to leadership posts. Every new chief justice, in every state, installs a leadership team that reflects their vision for the judiciary. Staff and leadership turnover follow each election; this is neither nefarious nor unprecedented. The court’s shift in ideology reflects the will of North Carolina’s people at the ballot box, not some “dark” cabal or coup. Likewise, the claim that Newby created a “climate of fear” is sourced largely to unnamed individuals — hardly an evidentiary standard worthy of journalism, let alone legal critique.

The article’s implication that Newby routinely flouts ethical norms is not borne out by any official sanction. The instances cited — where Newby ruled in cases where, for example, he had some historical connection to a party — are at best debatable, at worst baseless. It’s a well-settled principle in judicial ethics that past, distant affiliations, absent financial interest or direct involvement, do not warrant recusal. The article’s criticism relies on innuendo rather than any finding of impropriety by disciplinary bodies.

It has become increasingly fashionable to decry as “politicized” any court that issues opinions one dislikes. But ProPublica’s lament about partisanship applies equally to state supreme courts nationwide, including where liberals are in the majority. The deeper issue — the one ignored in the article — is that as long as judges are elected, North Carolina will continue to see spirited, well-funded contests for these positions. This situation may be less than perfect, but it is hardly a conspiracy of Newby’s making.

If North Carolinians are dissatisfied with the direction of the courts, they have the power to make change through the electoral process. Newby’s faith, political philosophy, and vision for the judiciary are transparent — and, crucially, subjected to regular public scrutiny. He has been scrutinized, opposed, and elected by voters in statewide elections. In other words, the system is working as designed.

The story of Paul Newby and the North Carolina Supreme Court is not the story of one man’s “crusade” but rather a reflection of North Carolina’s broader political tides. ProPublica’s report is a one-sided polemic. For those of us who work within — and respect — the legal system, this kind of journalism does more to undermine trust in our courts than any of the changes it purports to expose. Chief Justice Newby’s tenure may be controversial, but it is not illegitimate, nor is it the existential threat claimed by his critics.