The Education of Brett Kavanaugh

The Education of Brett Kavanaugh Plot Summary

Introduction

In September 2018, America came to a standstill as Christine Blasey Ford took her seat before the Senate Judiciary Committee. With a trembling voice, she recounted an alleged sexual assault from 36 years earlier by Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh. Hours later, an emotional Kavanaugh vehemently denied the accusations, his face flushed with anger as he defended his name and reputation. This riveting day of testimony became the centerpiece of one of the most contentious Supreme Court confirmation battles in American history, exposing deep fault lines in the nation's politics, culture, and understanding of gender and power. The Kavanaugh confirmation saga transcended a mere political fight over a Supreme Court seat. It became a national referendum on several profound questions: How should we evaluate decades-old allegations in the #MeToo era? What standards of evidence should apply to lifetime appointments to the nation's highest court? And how do privilege, power, and gender shape our institutions and our understanding of truth? For anyone seeking to understand modern American politics, the cultural divisions that define our society, or the ongoing struggle for gender equality and accountability, this watershed moment offers essential insights into how these forces collide at the highest levels of government.

Chapter 1: Elite Pathways: Kavanaugh's Rise Through Privileged Institutions (1965-2018)

Brett Kavanaugh's journey to the Supreme Court began in the privileged corridors of Washington's elite institutions. Born in 1965 to Edward Kavanaugh, a cosmetics industry lobbyist, and Martha Kavanaugh, who would later become a Maryland state judge, young Brett was raised in an upper-middle-class household where achievement and public service were emphasized from an early age. His Catholic upbringing instilled traditional values that would shape his worldview throughout his life. In the early 1980s, Kavanaugh attended Georgetown Preparatory School, an exclusive all-boys Jesuit institution in Bethesda, Maryland, where tuition now exceeds $60,000 annually. At Georgetown Prep, Kavanaugh distinguished himself academically and athletically, becoming a standout basketball player and earning the prestigious Headmaster's Award. The culture at Georgetown Prep during this period was marked by privilege and, at times, excess. Students from wealthy families often hosted parties at their homes when parents were away, and underage drinking was commonplace. Kavanaugh and his friends were part of this social scene, with his yearbook page referencing the "100 Kegs or Bust" club and "Beach Week" celebrations. After Georgetown Prep, Kavanaugh continued his educational journey at Yale University for both undergraduate studies and law school, further cementing his place in America's elite educational pipeline. These institutions connected him with networks of power and influence that would serve him throughout his career. Following law school, Kavanaugh clerked for Judge Alex Kozinski and later for Supreme Court Justice Anthony Kennedy, whom he would eventually be nominated to replace. His professional trajectory included working on the Starr investigation into President Clinton, serving in the George W. Bush White House, and eventually securing a seat on the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals in 2006. Throughout his career, Kavanaugh cultivated an image as a family man and mentor to female lawyers. He frequently highlighted that more than half of his law clerks had been women, and he coached his daughters' basketball teams. This carefully constructed persona would become crucial during his confirmation hearings, creating a stark contrast between his professional reputation and the allegations about his past behavior. The elite institutions that shaped Kavanaugh represent a particular pathway to power in American society, one that rewards academic achievement, social connections, and adherence to certain cultural norms. The significance of Kavanaugh's background extends beyond his personal story. It illuminates how America's power structures perpetuate themselves through exclusive educational and professional networks. These institutions often insulate their members from consequences and scrutiny while providing them with the credentials and connections necessary to reach positions of immense influence. When allegations against Kavanaugh emerged, they forced a national conversation not just about one man's behavior, but about the culture of privilege that had shaped him and countless others in America's ruling class.

Chapter 2: Buried Trauma: Christine Ford's Memory and Decision to Speak (1982-2018)

In the summer of 1982, while seventeen-year-old Brett Kavanaugh was attending basketball camp and preparing for his senior year at Georgetown Prep, fifteen-year-old Christine Blasey was navigating her own adolescent world at Holton-Arms, an elite all-girls school in Bethesda, Maryland. The youngest of three children in a Republican, Protestant family, Christine spent her summers swimming at the Columbia Country Club, where the social circles of various private schools in the area often intersected. It was during this period that an event occurred which would remain buried in her memory for decades, only to resurface with profound national consequences 36 years later. According to Ford's later testimony, she attended a small gathering at a house near the country club one evening that summer. Present were Kavanaugh, his friend Mark Judge, and a few others. What happened next would form the core of her allegations: Kavanaugh and Judge pushed her into a bedroom, where Kavanaugh pinned her to the bed, groped her, tried to remove her clothes, and covered her mouth to prevent her from screaming. The boys were laughing, treating it as horseplay rather than assault. When Judge jumped on the bed a second time, Ford managed to escape to a bathroom and eventually flee the house. She told no one about the incident at the time, too ashamed and afraid of getting in trouble for being at a party with boys and alcohol. The trauma remained unprocessed yet influential in Ford's life. Her academic performance suffered in her final years of high school and early college. She developed anxiety and a fear of confined spaces that would persist into adulthood. Only decades later, in couples therapy in 2012, did she first mention the assault to another person – her husband Russell Ford – though she did not name Kavanaugh at that time. The therapist's notes, which later became a piece of corroborating evidence, documented her account of being attacked by students "from an elitist boys' school" who went on to become "highly respected and high-ranking members of society in Washington." Over the years, Ford built a new life in California, far from her Washington roots. She earned a doctorate in psychology, became a professor specializing in trauma, married, had two sons, and developed a passion for surfing. During a home renovation in 2012, she insisted on having a second front door installed – a direct result of her claustrophobia stemming from the alleged assault. Between 2013 and 2017, Ford gradually shared her experience with a small circle of friends in Palo Alto, occasionally mentioning that her assailant had become a federal judge. When Kavanaugh's name appeared on the shortlist for the Supreme Court in 2018, Ford faced an agonizing decision. She felt a civic duty to share information that might be relevant to his nomination, yet dreaded the personal consequences of coming forward. In early July, she contacted the Washington Post tip line and reached out to her congressional representative, Anna Eshoo, who connected her with Senator Dianne Feinstein. Ford's initial letter requested confidentiality, but as rumors began circulating in Washington, she made the difficult choice to go public, knowing it would forever change her life. "I was trying to get the information to you while there was still a list of candidates," Ford later explained to the Senate Judiciary Committee, underscoring that her motivation was civic duty rather than partisan politics.

Chapter 3: Political Calculations: The White House and Senate's Nomination Strategy

When Justice Anthony Kennedy announced his retirement on June 27, 2018, the political stakes could not have been higher. His departure meant President Trump could replace a swing vote with a reliable conservative, cementing a right-leaning majority on the Supreme Court for decades. The White House and Senate Republicans recognized this as a once-in-a-generation opportunity to reshape the judiciary and secure a conservative legacy that would outlast the Trump presidency itself. The selection process reflected the growing influence of outside organizations on judicial nominations. The Federalist Society, a conservative legal network, had effectively created a pipeline for right-leaning judges and provided Trump with a shortlist of candidates vetted for their conservative judicial philosophy. Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell, focused on maintaining Republican control of the Senate in the upcoming midterm elections, preferred a nominee who could navigate the confirmation process with minimal controversy. He reportedly expressed concerns about some candidates, including Amy Coney Barrett, whose strong religious views might complicate confirmation. Brett Kavanaugh emerged as the nominee who seemed to balance conservative credentials with confirmability. His extensive experience on the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals, his connections to the Bush administration, and his careful judicial record made him appear a safe choice. White House Counsel Don McGahn, a longtime friend of Kavanaugh's, championed his nomination. For McGahn, who was on his way out of the White House after clashing with Trump, Kavanaugh's confirmation would be his final contribution to the administration's legacy. The nomination strategy initially followed a well-established playbook. Kavanaugh embarked on a "courtesy tour," meeting with senators from both parties. The White House assembled a team of former clerks and supporters to defend his record. Conservative groups, including the Judicial Crisis Network, pledged millions for advertising campaigns supporting his confirmation. Democrats, still bitter about Republicans' refusal to consider Obama nominee Merrick Garland in 2016, prepared for opposition but lacked the votes to block the nomination outright. When Ford's allegations surfaced in September, the White House and Senate Republicans faced a critical decision: withdraw the nomination or fight through the controversy. The political calculus was complex. Abandoning Kavanaugh might demoralize the conservative base ahead of the midterms, while pressing forward risked alienating women voters already energized by the #MeToo movement. Trump initially showed restraint in his public comments about Ford, calling her "a very fine woman" with "a very compelling testimony." Behind the scenes, however, the strategy was clear: defend Kavanaugh vigorously and portray the allegations as a last-minute smear campaign orchestrated by Democrats. The Republican approach to managing the crisis revealed much about modern political warfare. Senate Judiciary Committee Chairman Chuck Grassley refused to request an FBI investigation initially, instead offering Ford the opportunity to testify with minimal delay. When additional allegations emerged from Deborah Ramirez and Julie Swetnick, Republicans doubled down on their support for Kavanaugh, arguing that the timing and nature of the claims suggested a coordinated effort to destroy him. The nomination had transformed from a conventional political battle into a proxy war for America's cultural and political divisions, with both sides believing the future of the country hung in the balance.

Chapter 4: September Showdown: Competing Testimonies Before a Divided Nation

On September 27, 2018, America came to a standstill as Christine Blasey Ford and Brett Kavanaugh delivered riveting testimonies before the Senate Judiciary Committee. The hearing room was tense, with Ford's supporters and Kavanaugh's family seated just rows apart. After weeks of political maneuvering and media speculation, the moment of direct confrontation had arrived, with millions watching on television and streaming online. Ford spoke first, her voice quivering as she began: "I am here today not because I want to be. I am terrified." Her testimony was measured and precise, describing what she remembered about the alleged assault with clinical detail while freely acknowledging gaps in her memory about peripheral information like the exact date or location. When asked about her certainty that Kavanaugh was her attacker, she replied without hesitation: "One hundred percent." Perhaps her most memorable line came when she described what remained "indelible in the hippocampus" – the laughter of Kavanaugh and Judge during the assault, "the uproarious laughter between the two, and their having fun at my expense." Rachel Mitchell, a sex crimes prosecutor hired by Republicans to question Ford, attempted to identify inconsistencies in her account. Yet Ford's measured responses and professional demeanor – she was, after all, a psychology professor familiar with trauma and memory – made it difficult to undermine her credibility. Even President Trump would later acknowledge, "I thought her testimony was very compelling, and she looks like a very fine woman to me." Ford's academic expertise in psychology lent additional weight to her testimony, as she could explain how trauma affects memory formation and recall. After a recess, Kavanaugh took the stand, delivering a performance starkly different from Ford's. Gone was the measured, judicial temperament he had displayed throughout his career. Instead, he unleashed a furious denunciation of what he called a "calculated and orchestrated political hit" fueled by "revenge on behalf of the Clintons." His face flushed with anger, voice often breaking, Kavanaugh categorically denied all allegations: "I've never sexually assaulted anyone. Not in high school, not in college, not ever." When questioned about his drinking habits, Kavanaugh became defensive and evasive, repeatedly stating "I like beer" while insisting he had never blacked out. The hearing reached a dramatic turning point when Republican Senator Lindsey Graham abandoned the committee's strategy of letting Mitchell handle questioning. In a fiery outburst, Graham accused Democrats of orchestrating "the most unethical sham since I've been in politics" and declared, "Boy, y'all want power. God, I hope you never get it." His passionate defense of Kavanaugh energized Republicans and shifted the momentum of the hearing. The partisan nature of the proceedings became increasingly evident as Republican senators followed Graham's lead in offering supportive statements rather than probing questions. By day's end, the testimonies had only deepened America's divisions. Ford's supporters found her credible and courageous, while Kavanaugh's defenders saw him as a man rightfully defending his honor against unproven accusations. The hearing had become a Rorschach test for the nation's views on sexual assault, the #MeToo movement, and partisan politics. As Senator Jeff Flake later observed, "People just saw what they wanted to see." The testimonies revealed not just two competing accounts of what happened in 1982, but two competing visions of America – one that prioritized believing women and holding powerful men accountable, and another that emphasized due process and the presumption of innocence.

Chapter 5: Limited Investigation: The FBI's Constrained Role in Seeking Truth

In the immediate aftermath of the Ford-Kavanaugh hearings, the confirmation process reached an impasse. Republican leaders were eager to move forward with a vote, while Democrats and some moderate Republicans insisted on a more thorough investigation of the allegations. The breakthrough came from an unexpected source: Senator Jeff Flake, an Arizona Republican who had announced his retirement and was thus somewhat liberated from partisan pressures. After being confronted in an elevator by sexual assault survivors and conferring with his Democratic colleague Chris Coons, Flake announced he would support advancing Kavanaugh's nomination only if the FBI conducted a supplemental background investigation. Given the razor-thin Republican majority in the Senate, Majority Leader Mitch McConnell had no choice but to agree to the one-week delay. President Trump subsequently ordered the FBI to conduct a "limited" investigation into the allegations against Kavanaugh. From the outset, the investigation was mired in controversy over its scope and methodology. The White House counsel's office, led by Don McGahn, established parameters that critics argued were designed to avoid uncovering potentially damaging information. The investigation would focus narrowly on Ford's and Ramirez's allegations, interviewing only a small circle of potential witnesses. The FBI ultimately interviewed nine people over the course of less than a week. They spoke with Deborah Ramirez and several friends of both Kavanaugh and Ford, including Mark Judge, P.J. Smyth, and Leland Keyser – the three people Ford had identified as being at the gathering where she was allegedly assaulted. Notably, the FBI did not interview Ford or Kavanaugh themselves, nor did they speak with numerous former classmates who had publicly claimed to have relevant information about Kavanaugh's drinking habits or behavior. Several potential witnesses later stated they had attempted to contact the FBI with information but received no response. When the FBI delivered its report to the Senate on October 4, it was placed in a secure room where senators could review it in one-hour shifts, without making copies or taking notes. Republicans quickly declared that the investigation had found "no corroboration" of the allegations against Kavanaugh. Democrats denounced the process as a "sham" and a "cover-up," arguing that the investigation had been deliberately constrained to avoid uncovering potentially damaging information. Senator Bob Corker, a Republican who ultimately voted to confirm Kavanaugh, acknowledged that the investigation was "not as thorough as some might have liked." The controversy over the FBI investigation highlighted deeper questions about the confirmation process itself. What standard of evidence should apply to allegations against a Supreme Court nominee? How thoroughly should decades-old claims be investigated? And who should control the parameters of such investigations – the White House, which nominates judges, or the Senate, which provides advice and consent? The limited FBI probe represented a compromise that satisfied neither side and left many questions unanswered. For many observers, particularly those who supported Ford, the constrained investigation represented a failure of institutional responsibility. The FBI, they argued, had been prevented from conducting the kind of thorough inquiry that might have established a more complete factual record. For Kavanaugh's supporters, the investigation was sufficient to confirm what they already believed – that there was no corroborating evidence for the allegations against him. The week-long probe thus became another flashpoint in America's partisan divide, with each side seeing in it confirmation of their existing views about the nomination and the broader cultural conflicts it represented.

Chapter 6: Party-Line Victory: Confirmation Amid Cultural Reckoning

On October 6, 2018, the United States Senate gathered for one of the most anticipated votes in its recent history. The chamber was tense, with protesters in the gallery periodically disrupting proceedings with shouts of "Shame!" and "I do not consent!" Vice President Mike Pence presided over the session, ready to cast a tie-breaking vote if necessary. The final days leading to the vote had been marked by intense pressure on a handful of undecided senators who would determine Kavanaugh's fate. Republican Susan Collins of Maine, considered a key swing vote, delivered a 45-minute speech explaining her decision to support Kavanaugh. She argued that while she found Ford's testimony "sincere, painful, and compelling," the allegations remained unproven and the presumption of innocence had to prevail. "We must always remember that it is when passions are most inflamed that fairness is most in jeopardy," Collins declared, echoing concerns about due process that had become central to Republican messaging. Democrat Joe Manchin of West Virginia, facing reelection in a state Trump had won by 42 points, announced he would also vote yes. Meanwhile, Republican Lisa Murkowski of Alaska broke with her party to oppose Kavanaugh, citing concerns about his temperament and the process. When the roll was called, the Senate voted 50-48 to confirm Kavanaugh, the narrowest margin for a Supreme Court justice since 1881. The vote fell almost entirely along party lines, with Manchin the lone Democrat supporting confirmation and Murkowski the only Republican opposing it (though she voted "present" rather than "no" as a courtesy to a Republican colleague who was absent for his daughter's wedding). Hours later, Kavanaugh was sworn in as the 114th Justice of the Supreme Court in a private ceremony at the Court building, followed by a public ceremony at the White House two days later. The confirmation represented a significant victory for President Trump and Senate Republicans, who had successfully placed a second conservative justice on the Supreme Court. It also marked a triumph for the conservative legal movement, which had worked for decades to build a pipeline of qualified judicial candidates committed to originalist and textualist approaches to constitutional interpretation. For many conservatives, the battle over Kavanaugh had taken on existential importance – a test of whether they could withstand what they viewed as unfair character assassination and politically motivated allegations. For many women and sexual assault survivors, however, the confirmation was deeply painful. They saw in Kavanaugh's elevation to the Supreme Court a dismissal of their experiences and a reaffirmation of male privilege. The hashtag #BelieveSurvivors trended on social media, and women shared their own stories of assault and the institutional failures that had followed. The National Sexual Assault Hotline reported a 147% increase in calls during Ford's testimony, indicating how the public hearing had triggered painful memories for many survivors. The confirmation also deepened America's partisan divide. Democrats saw the process as fundamentally unfair, with Republicans rushing through a nominee despite credible allegations. Republicans viewed the late-breaking accusations as a desperate attempt to derail a qualified nominee through character assassination. Each side became more convinced of the other's fundamental dishonesty and bad faith. As the dust settled on the confirmation battle, it was clear that the Kavanaugh saga had become more than a fight over a Supreme Court seat – it was a defining moment in America's ongoing cultural reckoning with power, gender, and accountability.

Chapter 7: Lasting Divisions: Judicial Legacy and America's Unresolved Questions

In the years following Kavanaugh's confirmation, the impact of the bitter fight extended far beyond the immediate question of who would occupy the ninth seat on the Supreme Court. As Justice Kavanaugh donned his robes and began his lifetime appointment, the country continued to grapple with the broader implications of the confirmation battle that had captivated and divided the nation. His judicial record began to take shape, while the cultural wounds opened during the hearings remained raw. On the Court itself, Kavanaugh's jurisprudence has largely aligned with conservative expectations, though with occasional surprises. He joined the conservative majority in decisions limiting abortion rights, expanding religious freedoms, and restricting the power of administrative agencies. Yet he has sometimes disappointed hardline conservatives, occasionally joining with Chief Justice Roberts and the liberal justices on certain issues. Questions about his judicial temperament, raised during his emotional testimony before the Senate, have largely faded as he adopted a more measured approach on the bench. In public appearances, Kavanaugh has emphasized collegiality and respect for the Court as an institution, seemingly eager to move beyond the controversy of his confirmation. For Christine Blasey Ford, the aftermath brought both support and continued hardship. She received hundreds of thousands of dollars in donations through GoFundMe campaigns, which she used for security expenses as she faced ongoing harassment and death threats. Unable to return to her teaching position immediately due to safety concerns, Ford gradually resumed some professional activities while maintaining a low public profile. In rare public statements, she has expressed no regrets about coming forward, despite the personal cost. "I simply thought that it was my duty as a citizen," she told the Washington Post in 2019. "I still think it was the right thing to do." The political aftershocks of the Kavanaugh confirmation continued to reverberate through subsequent elections and nominations. In the 2018 midterms, just weeks after the confirmation vote, Democrats made significant gains in the House of Representatives, fueled partly by women voters energized by their opposition to Kavanaugh. However, Republicans actually expanded their Senate majority, with some red-state Democrats who opposed Kavanaugh losing their seats. When Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg died in September 2020, Republicans moved with unprecedented speed to confirm Amy Coney Barrett before the presidential election, citing the Kavanaugh experience as justification for their urgency. Perhaps the most significant legacy of the Kavanaugh confirmation has been its impact on how Americans view the Supreme Court and the confirmation process. Public confidence in the Court as an institution above politics has eroded, with many now seeing it primarily through a partisan lens. The already polarized process of confirming justices has become even more divisive, with the notion of consensus candidates seeming increasingly like a relic of a bygone era. Some Democrats have begun openly discussing structural reforms to the Court, including term limits for justices or court expansion. The Kavanaugh saga also left unresolved questions about how society should handle allegations of sexual misconduct, particularly those from the distant past. What standard of evidence should apply when evaluating such claims? How should we balance the presumption of innocence with the imperative to take women's accounts seriously? And how do power, privilege, and gender shape our institutions and our understanding of truth? These questions remain as urgent and contested today as they were during those tumultuous weeks in the fall of 2018, ensuring that the Kavanaugh confirmation will continue to be studied and debated for generations to come.

Summary

The Kavanaugh confirmation battle represents a watershed moment that exposed the deep fissures in American society along lines of gender, power, and partisan identity. At its core, this was a story about competing truths and how we evaluate them – Christine Blasey Ford's powerful testimony about her assault versus Brett Kavanaugh's vehement denials, all set against the backdrop of incomplete evidence and decades-old memories. The fundamental question of what standard of proof should apply when evaluating allegations against a Supreme Court nominee – beyond reasonable doubt, clear and convincing evidence, or preponderance of evidence – was never resolved, leaving Americans to reach their own conclusions based largely on their preexisting political beliefs. The lasting impact of this episode extends far beyond Kavanaugh's jurisprudence on the Supreme Court. It transformed how we think about the confirmation process itself, raising questions about whether lifetime appointments to the nation's highest court deserve more thorough vetting than the rushed, partisan process that has become the norm. For many women, especially survivors of sexual assault, the hearings represented a painful reminder that their experiences might be dismissed when they conflict with powerful interests. For many men, particularly conservatives, they highlighted concerns about due process and the potential for allegations to destroy reputations without sufficient evidence. As America continues to navigate the complex terrain of gender, power, and accountability in the post-#MeToo era, the Kavanaugh confirmation stands as both a cautionary tale and an unfinished conversation about how we balance competing values of justice, truth, and fairness in our most important institutions.

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Robin Pogrebin

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