Judge Bruce Selya: A Few Remembrances

Judge Bruce Selya of the United States Court of Appeals for the First Circuit died at the age of 90 on Saturday, leaving behind a plethora of memorable opinions and bon mots. He was a great man and a great judge. His former clerks include Supreme Court Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson.

I had the privilege to get to know Judge Selya when I clerked from 1994-95 for his fellow First Circuit Judge, Conrad K. Cyr. In Judge Cyr’s chambers, clerks were assigned cases when the briefs came in. Our first duty was to write the “bench memo” to help Judge Cyr prepare for oral argument. If Judge Cyr was assigned the opinion, the clerk would help create the first draft. If another judge was assigned the opinion, the clerk would cite check and proof read the draft when it came from the other chambers.

I quickly learned that draft opinions from Judge Selya would keep me on my toes. His legal reasoning was always impeccable, but his vocabulary often sent me scurrying for a dictionary.

For example, when I prepared a bench memo on a particular case, I thought that one argument raised by the appellant would be difficult to dispose of, as I wrote in my bench memo. Judge Cyr let me know that Judge Selya would be writing on that case. I looked forward to seeing how Judge Selya dealt with it. To my surprise, Judge Selya did not deal with the argument in the text of the draft opinion. Rather, he relegated it to a single footnote, reading “[Appellant argues X]. That argument is jejune.” I had no idea that “jejune” meant “banal” or “insipid” until I found it in Webster’s.

My favorite memory of Judge Selya was his explanation of why he so frequently ended his opinions with “We need go no further.” I asked him about this during the March 1995 sitting of the First Circuit in Puerto Rico, when the clerks had extended exposure to the judges. His story reflected that Judge Selya loved a good joke, particularly if he was the target. Here is, as best I can remember, his explanation:

When I was newly appointed to the First Circuit, I was assigned an opinion on a complex bankruptcy matter. Judge Bownes [another First Circuit judge, who was on the short list for SCOTUS if President Carter had gotten to make a nomination] was on the panel. I drafted the opinion with long sections on all three arguments and faxed it to the other chambers. I was looking forward to receiving line edits from Judge Bownes.

To my disappointment, he only marked up my analysis of the first argument. His cover note stated that he thought that was sufficient to render a decision. I wrote back, stating that I had gone to considerable effort to draft all three sections and that I would appreciate his line edits on the entire draft.

Minutes after I sent that fax, I received a fax from Judge Bownes, with his line edits of the entire opinion. After Section I, he had “x”ed out the text for sections two & three. On the last page, he added a footnote that read, “We need go no further.”

Judge Selya’s chuckle at himself as he told the story is ringing in my ears as I write about it thirty years later. What makes it even more piquant is that Judge Selya was functionally blind, so he had his secretary (or clerks) read faxes and briefs to him. I can just imagine him listening to his secretary reading the fax from Judge Bownes.

May his memory be for a blessing.