The reason Supreme Court justices serve for life

The principle of lifetime tenure for Supreme Court justices wasn’t intended as a privilege. It was a structural safeguard. The framers of the U.S. Constitution were deeply concerned with the threat of concentrated power—whether it came from kings, legislatures, or mobs. They envisioned the judiciary as a bulwark against transient political pressures and short-term populism. Life tenure, they believed, was the best way to ensure that judges could issue rulings based solely on the Constitution and the law—without fear of retaliation or the need to win favor with voters or politicians.

This design was also about long-term continuity. Whereas presidents serve a maximum of eight years and Congress turns over regularly, justices with life tenure can maintain legal consistency over generations. Their decisions help build precedent, forming the legal bedrock upon which future interpretations rest. This stability reinforces public trust in the rule of law—though ironically, it also invites criticism when rulings diverge from shifting social norms.

Ultimately, life tenure reflects a unique democratic wager: that unelected, insulated judges can serve the public good not by being popular, but by being principled. Whether that still holds in today’s polarized political environment is now part of an urgent national conversation.

The foundation of lifetime tenure lies in Article III of the U.S. Constitution. This article created the federal judiciary, declaring that judges “shall hold their Offices during good Behaviour.” Though the phrase may sound vague to modern ears, its intent was clear to the Constitution’s framers: protect judges from political pressure and preserve the independence of the judiciary.

The Founders had seen how judges under British rule served at the pleasure of the king, subject to removal if their rulings displeased the monarchy. In contrast, the new American republic sought to create a co-equal judiciary—immune from the executive and legislative branches, and especially from fleeting public opinion.

By design, the judicial branch was never meant to be responsive to polls or elections. Judges would not have to campaign, court voters, or answer to political donors. Instead, they would uphold the Constitution—even when doing so might prove unpopular.

The phrase “good behavior” has long been interpreted as life tenure, unless a justice is impeached and removed from office. That bar is deliberately high. Only one Supreme Court justice—Samuel Chase—has ever been impeached, and he was ultimately acquitted by the Senate in 1805.

This isn’t to say other justices haven’t been controversial or criticized. Chief Justice Earl Warren, architect of the landmark Brown v. Board of Education ruling that ended school segregation, was the target of an “Impeach Warren” movement in the 1950s. But even sustained political campaigns against justices have never succeeded in forcing their removal.

The logic is straightforward: decisions should not be cause for dismissal. If justices could be removed for issuing unpopular rulings, they would inevitably be swayed by political forces—undermining the very independence their office is meant to uphold.

The purpose of life tenure isn’t merely to provide job security—it’s to insulate justices from the type of pressure that could compromise impartial judgment. As legal scholar Burt Neuborne explains, the Founders wanted to prevent a scenario in which a justice might hesitate to rule against a powerful political actor out of fear of losing their position.

If Supreme Court justices had fixed terms or were subject to reelection, their decisions could be shaped by public sentiment or political survival. Life tenure breaks that link. Justices are free to uphold constitutional principles regardless of whether the public agrees—often ensuring minority rights or long-term legal stability. This structural design explains why the judiciary can, and often does, serve as a counterweight to the other branches of government.

Despite the term “lifetime appointment,” many justices choose to retire. The U.S. Constitution doesn’t mandate that they die in office—only that they cannot be removed except through impeachment. Several justices have stepped down after decades of service. Sandra Day O’Connor retired in 2006 to care for her husband. John Paul Stevens retired at age 90. Most recently, Justice Stephen Breyer voluntarily left the bench in 2022.

What’s changed in recent years is the strategy around retirement. In an era of fierce partisanship, some justices are more mindful of who will nominate their successor. This political calculus—while not new—has become more transparent as the ideological composition of the Court has grown more significant.

Today, the average tenure of a Supreme Court justice has grown dramatically. In the 19th century, justices served an average of 15 years. Now, with longer lifespans and younger appointees, a justice can remain influential for 30 to 40 years.

Consider this: Clarence Thomas was appointed at age 43 and is still serving more than three decades later. Amy Coney Barrett was confirmed at 48. Elena Kagan at 50. These appointments may extend well into the 2050s. This longevity makes each Supreme Court seat a coveted prize, with enormous implications for abortion rights, executive power, environmental regulation, voting access, and beyond. No wonder modern confirmation hearings have become heated affairs—often treated like proxy wars for ideological control.

Globally, the U.S. is an outlier in allowing its highest court judges to serve for life. Many countries impose mandatory retirement ages or term limits. In Canada, Supreme Court justices must retire by age 75. In the UK, the retirement age is 70 (increased to 75 as of 2022). Germany limits constitutional court appointments to 12 years. Even international courts, like the European Court of Human Rights, set term limits.

These models aim to balance judicial independence with democratic accountability. By contrast, the U.S. places complete trust in the integrity of its appointments and the rarity of impeachment as a safeguard. Whether this model remains tenable in an era of polarized politics is a matter of growing debate.

There is a growing chorus—across both liberal and conservative circles—calling for reform. Proposals include 18-year staggered terms or a mandatory retirement age, often modeled on systems in other democracies. Supporters argue that these changes could reduce the high-stakes nature of each appointment, return the Court to a less partisan position, and align judicial service with contemporary life expectancy.

Critics caution that such reforms could backfire, making the Court more susceptible to political manipulation. Some warn that if the dominant party can rewrite the rules every few years, judicial independence could be permanently weakened. Moreover, implementing any such reform would likely require a constitutional amendment—an exceedingly difficult process requiring broad bipartisan consensus.

Lifetime appointments carry undeniable risks: stagnation, strategic retirements, and the entrenchment of legal philosophies that may become out of step with societal norms. But they also provide a stabilizing counterbalance in a system characterized by electoral turnover. In times of intense political polarization, the Court can act as a guardrail—though public confidence in its neutrality is not guaranteed. Indeed, the perception of the Court as a political actor has grown, especially when its decisions align consistently with the ideology of recent appointments.

The system, as designed, places tremendous trust in the judgment, ethics, and restraint of individual justices. Whether that trust is justified will always be contested—but the structure itself has remained largely unchanged since 1789.

The lifetime tenure of Supreme Court justices isn’t an oversight—it is a foundational feature of the American legal system. It was created not to reward loyalty or guarantee power, but to ensure that justice would be administered free from political retaliation or popular demand. That independence is a cornerstone of U.S. democracy, even as it comes under pressure from increasingly partisan appointment processes and a more ideologically divided Court.

As debates about court reform continue, Americans must grapple with a fundamental tension: how to balance accountability with insulation, adaptability with permanence, and power with principle. For now, the answer still lies in the framers’ original design: one that bets on lifetime wisdom to withstand temporary passions.