Judicial Rage
A Moot Court Response to the Hawaii Supreme Court’s "Independent" Outburst
Jonathan Turley’s recent criticism of the Hawaii Supreme Court hits on a tension that has long simmered beneath the surface of American jurisprudence: the collision between judicial restraint and judicial activism. In his July 18, 2026, blog post, “No Mahalo for You,” J. Turley dissects the Hawaii Supreme Court’s unanimous but rhetorically unhinged decision in State v. Granillo, where Justice Todd W. Eddins labeled the U.S. Supreme Court “de facto racists” and “hubristic originalists.”
As a former participant in the comment sections of his blog, Res Ipsa Loquitur, I attempted to engage in the kind of moot court debate he so skillfully stages. But as the discourse went off the rails, the comment forum felt less like a seminar and more like a shouting match. Therefore, I am moving my reading of his arguments to this space to offer a more structured, original restatement of the argument, treating the recent Hawaii argument not just as a news item of local relevance, but as a case study in the limits of independent state grounds. If my understanding is correct, these are his points:
The Case: State v. Granillo (2026)
At its core, Granillo is a procedural decision. The court unanimously agreed to vacate a 1990 rape conviction due to discredited forensic hair analysis. However, the legal standard for doing so split the court:
The Majority (Eddins): Applied a state standard requiring only a “reasonable possibility” that the false evidence influenced a juror.
The Concurrence: Argued for the stricter federal “harmless beyond a reasonable doubt” standard. It was the majority’s rejection of the federal standard that served as the launchpad for Justice Eddins’ 91-page diatribe against the Roberts Court.
The Activist’s Dilemma: Restraint vs. Rhetoric
Turley’s central thesis is that while the outcome (vacating the conviction) was legally sound, the reasoning was an “appalling departure from judicial decorum.” Eddins did not merely disagree with federal precedent; he engaged in a personal, ad hominem assault on the sitting justices. He characterized the current Supreme Court as operating under a “white sight, by design” and accused them of a “partisan project” that ignores the Equal Protection Clause.
This is where the line between judicial independence and judicial grandstanding blurs. Justice Eddins is correct that state constitutions can offer broader protections than the federal floor—a doctrine known as independent state grounds. This is a vital tool for state courts. However, Eddins "weaponized" this doctrine not to protect a defendant’s rights, but to issue a political manifesto. By stating that Hawaii takes “no instruction” from the U.S. Supreme Court, he ignored the 1816 precedent of Martin v. Hunter’s Lessee, which established federal appellate jurisdiction over state courts on federal questions.
The Strategic Calculation
Why would Eddins risk such a rebuke? The answer lies in the strategic immunity provided by the independent state grounds doctrine. Because Granillo rested entirely on the Hawaii Constitution, the U.S. Supreme Court lacks jurisdiction to review the decision. Justice Eddins knew this.
This knowledge created a “safe harbor” for rhetoric that would otherwise be untenable. Eddins used the safety of state law to:
1. Inoculate Hawaii lower courts from federal precedent (specifically on voting rights, gun control, and abortion).
2. Signal a break from federal orthodoxy to local constituents and future litigants.
3. Transform a procedural ruling into a political statement.
In this sense, Justice Eddins fits the definition of an "activist justice." He prioritizes a specific social vision—rooted in Hawaiian cultural values and progressive rights—over the comity and uniformity expected of the judiciary. As Professor Turley notes, this is not the behavior of a neutral arbiter; it is the behavior of a politician who happens to wear a robe.
The Verdict on Eddins’ Strategy
If the role of a Justice is to interpret the law without regard to personal ideology, then Eddins’ opinion is a failure of discipline. If, however, one views the bench as a platform for cultural defense against what he perceives as a corrupted federal system, then the opinion is a calculated success.
Yet, the distinction is critical. As Turley argues, grandstanding belongs in the political arena. If Justice Eddins believes the Roberts Court is “de facto racist” and that federal precedent is an “imperious ideology,” those are political claims. They are arguments for a campaign trail, a legislative floor, or a gubernatorial debate—not for a judicial opinion.
By conflating the two, Justice Eddins risks eroding the very legitimacy of the state court system. When a Justice abandons neutrality for advocacy, they invite the public to view the judiciary not as a guardian of rights, but as another partisan actor in a fractured political landscape.
The Duty to Know the Law
The duty to know the law includes understanding the boundaries of judicial power. Eddins’ opinion is a fascinating, if dangerous, experiment in state sovereignty. It demonstrates that while state courts can diverge from federal precedent, doing so with ad hominem attacks on the federal bench serves to weaken the rule of law rather than strengthen it.
For those of us who join the academic “moot court” of online legal debate, Granillo serves as a stark reminder: Legal competence does not excuse judicial indiscretion. The law requires us to argue our points with rigor, not with rage.