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Breaking in

The Rise of Sonia Sotomayor and the Politics of Justice

by Joan Biskupic

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What do salsa dancing and the Supreme Court have to do with each other? A lot, according to author Joan Biskupic, whose new book about Justice Sonia Sotomayor is now out in bookstores.

Sotomayor, of course, has written her own best-selling autobiography. But it ends, for all practical purposes, when she becomes a judge in 1992. Biskupic's volume, entitled Breaking In: The Rise of Sonia Sotomayor and the Politics of Justice picks up where Sotomayor left off. It is also different from her two previous Supreme Court biographies.

"I wanted to make this a political history," Biskupic said in an interview with NPR. "I was intrigued by the fact that her life, the arc of her life, was actually the same trajectory of the rise of Latinos in America."

Latinos have grown from an estimated 2% of the population when Sotomayor was born to 17% today.

Underlining those astonishing numbers is the fact that, as Biskupic puts it, Sotomayor is not someone who "happened to be Puerto Rican." Her heritage is central to her identity. True, her odyssey in the legal profession was a cautious one; even after winning appointments to two lower federal courts, Sotomayor avoided controversy and continued to build alliances. But at the same time, she made no attempt to tamp down on her unreserved personality or her Latina sense of style. And, says Biskupic, by the time Sotomayor got to the Supreme Court, her "unvarnished approach sometimes discombobulated" fellow justices, while at the same time conveying to others outside the court "an authenticity, even a vulnerability that they could identify with."

Biskupic opens her book with a scene illustrating the point. At the end of Sotomayor's first year on the court, the justices are having their annual party. It's in one of the most ornate and beautiful rooms at the court, with painted portraits of past chief justices decorating the walls. It is a very private event, and by tradition, the featured entertainment is a set of skits put on by the law clerks to gently parody their bosses. On this occasion, however, after the skits, something unexpected happens.

Justice Sotomayor "springs from her chair," and tells the law clerks that while their skits were fine, "they lacked a certain something." With that, "she gets her clerks to cue salsa music and she goes one by one and gets the justices" — some of them extremely reluctant—"to dance with her." Justice Anthony Kennedy "did a jitterbug move." Others were less willing; 90-year-old Justice John Paul Stevens "felt as if he had two left feet" and quickly sat down.

The scene is telling in many ways. As Biskupic observes in her book, "It had been a difficult term, and Sotomayor's enthusiasm was catching. [Justice Antonin] Scalia, who could shake things up in his own way," joked as he left the room at the end of the program, "I knew she'd be trouble."

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From the Bronx to the Bench

But some justices were "not amused." As Biskupic said in our interview, "I cannot overstate how much of a clash this represents in a place where everyone knows his or her place. There are certain steady rhythms that control the court. She was just busting those."

The salsa scene is of a piece with Sotomayor's sometimes confrontational style, according to the author. Sotomayor "can get in their faces" during oral arguments, she can "cut off" fellow justices, and when the court convenes in its private conferences to discuss cases, she doesn't "soft pedal anything," Biskupic says.

It's a style quite different from that of President Obama's other appointee to the court, Justice Elena Kagan.

"The way I characterize Elena Kagan is as someone who always has her antenna up for where her colleagues are," says Biskupic. "She's always working a game among the nine justices, trying to figure out where common ground might be...Sonia Sotomayor is different...She will break off even from her liberal colleagues to write a separate concurrence or dissent in a way that Elena Kagan to this day still has not done."

But, as Biskupic's book tells us, with a significant scoop, Sotomayor's passion can be effective too, as it was two years ago when the issue was affirmative action in higher education — the very system that initially boosted her from the tenements of the Bronx to the elite Ivy League, and eventually, to the top of the legal profession. The case, which involved the University of Texas affirmative action program, was argued in early October of 2012 but was not decided until late June of 2013. Biskupic reports that it was Sotomayor's scorching dissent, that turned the tide.

"She was furious about where the majority of her colleagues were and what they were going to do in terms of rolling back affirmative action. So she writes this dissent, circulated privately, and it gets the attention of her colleagues" who were "skittish" about the case to begin with. Behind the scenes, inside the court, writes Biskupic, tense negotiations ensued for nine months, with individual justices assuming critical roles. "Among them, Sotomayor as agitator, Stephen Breyer as broker, and Kennedy as compromiser." In the end, the conservatives backed away; the University of Texas affirmative action policy was allowed to stand, at least for the near future; "and there is no public sign of what Sotomayor had wrought."

Indeed, Sotomayor signed on to the court's 7-to-1 opinion, without a public peep. Evidence that she can be a team player, and a discreet one.

For her confirmation hearings, she removed her trademark fire engine red nail polish and hoop earrings. And when Sotomayor learned that Biskupic knew about the internal machinations over the Texas affirmative action case, she was so upset that Biskupic, in a footnote, states specifically that Sotomayor was not the source of her information.

Who was? Well, Biskupic, a law editor for the Reuters news service, is an incredibly hard-working and thorough reporter, who sources all of her information and makes clear in her footnotes that she talked to many justices in researching her book. Indeed, one of the very unusual things she does is clearly state what she does and does not know. In the affirmative action chapter, for instance, she makes clear that she has not seen any opinion drafts and so is limited to the characterizations of those drafts by other people who did see see them.

Throughout her book, Biskupic describes how Sotomayor is different from the other justices when it comes to dealing with the public. While the others may be warm, she maintains, they are far less revealing and thus are less able to personally connect with people.

Sotomayor, for starters, is willing to talk openly about her failures as well as her many successes. Having triumphed in many new worlds, winning top honors first from Princeton and then Yale Law School, she is not shy about noting that throughout her academic and professional life, no matter what her achievements, people who did not know her questioned whether she was smart enough. It's a suspicion that she openly suggests stems from her ethnicity, and not from any lack of achievement.

As Biskupic tells it, Sotomayor "strikes a chord with many, many people and part of it is that she reveals her vulnerabilities, right down to how she looks. She'll say, 'I was a kid with a pudgy nose and my hair was all over and I just have problems looking presentable.' She speaks to the every woman out there in the crowd."

And so people line up for six hours in advance at some of her book signings. And at public events, she can bring the crowd to tears by the way she relates, for instance, to a faltering questioner — in one case, calling a young man up to the stage to give him a hug. Biskupic sees Sotomayor as an "authentic and genuine" personality, but also "shrewd and calculating."

"She's someone who got ahead by standing out. She got ahead by not waiting her turn," the author says.

But there have been times when Sotomayor was startlingly willing to let others wait their turn—even the vice president of the United States. After the 2012 election, Vice President Biden asked Sotomayor to swear him in at both the private, official swearing in January 20, which fell on a Sunday, and again at the public ceremony the next day. As Biskupic reports, Sotomayor said she would be happy to do both, but that Biden would have to move up the Sunday swearing in from noon to 8 a.m. because she had committed to doing a much publicized book signing in New York City that day. Some Biden aides were appalled that the justice would ask that the swearing-in time be rejiggered to suit her needs, but the vice president agreed to the schedule change. The matter passed with little public attention, though a writer on the legal blog Above The Law called the episode evidence of "a not so wise Latina."

In evaluating Sotomayor, Biskupic ultimately returns to the theme of the salsa scene and a rhetorical question.

"Will the same characteristics that got her to the Supreme Court potentially interfere with her effectiveness with her fellow justices? When she asked them to dance, they got up. When she asks them to follow her on the law, I'm not so sure."

Read an excerpt of Breaking in

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StoryCorps' Military Voices Initiative records stories from members of the U.S. military who served in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Marine Cpl. Jeff Lucey deployed to Iraq, where he was a convoy driver, in 2003. His parents, Joyce and Kevin Lucey, drove him to the deployment point in the early hours of the morning.

It was dark, but eerily lit up by the headlights of all the cars dropping off Marines, Kevin recalls with his wife in a StoryCorps interview in Wellesley, Mass.

"I just remember him walking away into the darkness, and the darkness engulfing him," Kevin says. "I had a tremendous fear that was going to be the last time I was going to see my son."

Jeff returned to the U.S. later that year, and though he appeared to be well, something inside him had changed.

Jeff's homecoming was "magnificent," Joyce says, with balloons and a police escort. "But on Christmas Eve, we went to my mom's. He didn't come. His sister went home to see him, and when she got there, he threw his dog tags at her and said, 'Don't you know your brother's nothing but a murderer?' "

Jeff started having nightmares. He kept a flashlight under the bed, and would search his room at night for spiders because he said he could hear them, Joyce says.

He started staying in the house, Kevin says, "and sometimes he would stay just within his room. It was like the perfect storm converged."

About 11:30 p.m. on June 21, 2004, Jeff "came into the front room, and he asked me if he could sit in my lap and if we could rock," Kevin recalls. "Which we did. And I — I wasn't even thinking that this was his way of saying goodbye."

The next day, "when I came back from work, I saw the cellar door open," Kevin continues. "And I saw Jeff hanging from the beam. I went under him and pushed him up, and he was in my lap for the last time."

Jeff was 23.

"He was very social and outgoing, always smiling," Joyce says. "So you just didn't think Jeff would have any problems, you know, dealing with [the] emotional side of war."

"We never saw," Kevin says, "that he was mortally wounded within his spirit."

Audio produced for Weekend Edition Saturday by Liyna Anwar.

StoryCorps is a national nonprofit that gives people the chance to interview friends and loved ones about their lives. These conversations are archived at the American Folklife Center at the Library of Congress, allowing participants to leave a legacy for future generations. Learn more, including how to interview someone in your life, at StoryCorps.org.

Certain foods are supposed to be spheres: Cocoa Puffs; gum balls; eggs (if your chicken is broken). The folks at Welch's have spherified the peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and if they're allowed to do that, we're allowed to make up the word spherified.

Ian: It looks like they came out of a PB&Rabbit.

Miles: Finally, a way for me to shove an entire sandwich in my mouth without attracting unwanted attention.

i i

Actually, reading the ingredients, it's not a PB& J, it's a FC, WG, PASP, S, CS, MCS, CA, SC, SF, C6H8O6, P, AT, A, VAP, S, PK, PO, PF, NM, WP, PB, S, SL, CO, CW, & CG. NPR hide caption

itoggle caption NPR

Actually, reading the ingredients, it's not a PB& J, it's a FC, WG, PASP, S, CS, MCS, CA, SC, SF, C6H8O6, P, AT, A, VAP, S, PK, PO, PF, NM, WP, PB, S, SL, CO, CW, & CG.

NPR

Robert: I'm all for chefs deconstructing familiar foods to make something all new, but my daughter wadded up her PB&J into little pellets just like this when she was 3.

Ian: They look like a health-food version of whatever the Hungry Hungry Hippos were eating.

Miles: I like these better than the Tuna Salad Spheres you brought in last week.

i i

Miles considers developing a peanut allergy until this lunch is over. NPR hide caption

itoggle caption NPR

Miles considers developing a peanut allergy until this lunch is over.

NPR

Ann: My next Valentine's card: we go together like peanut butter and jelly bite-sized balls.

Ian: Mmmm, just like mom used to process.

Miles: Kids who have this packed in their lunch also get a note that says, 'I'm just not that into you. Sincerely, Mom.'

i i

Robert took the elementary school lunch thing all the way. Maybe this time he'll graduate! NPR hide caption

itoggle caption NPR

Robert took the elementary school lunch thing all the way. Maybe this time he'll graduate!

NPR

[The verdict: 4/5ths of us hated them, 1/5th of us is me.]

Sandwich Monday is a satirical feature from the humorists at Wait Wait ... Don't Tell Me!

Sandwich Mondays

peanut butter

When medical device entrepreneur Joe Kiani announced his commitment to eliminating medical mistakes, he did it with panache. His medical device company, Masimo Corporation, funded the launch of a nonprofit called the Patient Safety Movement Foundation. And at its flashy inaugural summit in 2013 – featuring former President Bill Clinton as the keynote speaker – Kiani pledged to galvanize the medical industry to reduce the number of deaths from medical errors across the country from hundreds of thousands a year to zero.

"Of all the dreams I've had none seem as important as this dream: The dream of no more preventable patient death," Kiani said to the gathering of health care leaders.

Now people will see whether Kiani, and his company, Masimo, walk the talk. Keeping patients safe requires device makers to respond appropriately to complaints. But an inspection by the Food and Drug Administration last year found Masimo didn't adequately investigate dozens of reports that its devices may have malfunctioned.

The FDA didn't find that Masimo's devices were defective, but rather that the company wasn't sufficiently looking into that possibility. The inspection report was obtained by ProPublica via public records request.

With over $500 million in annual sales, Masimo is one of the leading makers of noninvasive pulse oximeters — patient monitoring devices that track pulse and blood oxygen, often clipped gently onto fingers or toes. Doctors in emergency rooms and intensive care units rely on the monitors to alert them when a patient has abnormal readings. If the devices give inaccurate readings or fail to alert doctors to drastic changes in a patient's vital signs, doctors could misdiagnose or fail to recognize the severity of a patient's condition, which could lead to injury or death.

The complaints identified in the FDA inspection varied. In one case a patient suffered a burned toe, and in another there was a question about whether an alarm properly sounded before a patient died.

If a patient or health care provider sees a problem with one of Masimo's products they can report the problem to the company, which is then required by law to investigate. If the device malfunctioned or was implicated in a patient injury or death, the company must in turn disclose that to the FDA.

After the agency's inspection last year, Masimo disputed the FDA conclusions, saying the agency had misunderstood the circumstances surrounding each complaint. But after nearly a year of review, the FDA stuck to its findings. It reprimanded the company with an official warning letter this August, stating that Masimo was still not adequately responding to complaints about its devices.

FDA warning letters aren't common – it's the first Masimo has received in its 25-year history. They are generally reserved for significant violations that could result in an enforcement action, such as fines or a recall. The agency declined to offer further comment.

Diana Zuckerman, an expert on medical devices and president of the National Center for Health Research, reviewed the FDA's findings and Masimo's response at ProPublica's request. She said it appears that Masimo is "not taking the care to investigate their own possible malfunctions."

Since patients or doctors often don't report problems with products, Zuckerman said, complaints that are filed are "always the tip of the iceberg." Zuckerman added that she found it striking that Masimo disputed most of the complaints and "particularly troublesome" that the company challenged a complaint that involved questions about whether a Masimo device properly set off an alarm before a patient died.

"It may well be that it's a user error," Zuckerman said. "But you have to investigate that and show that it's a user error and not a device error."

Zuckerman found it striking that the company refused to admit any wrongdoing to the FDA. "When a company refuses to respond in any way to the FDA other than to say that the FDA is wrong on every issue, that's not very credible," Zuckerman said. "Especially when users made complaints that the company's product put patients at risk," she said.

In an interview with ProPublica, Kiani again disputed the FDA's findings, saying Masimo has always followed up on complaints. He said the company is cooperating with the regulator, providing it with information "to show them we did nothing wrong."

When asked how the FDA findings reflect on the ideals put forth by his nonprofit effort, the Patient Safety Movement Foundation, Kiani said that he never claimed to be perfect. "I'm just trying to do my best and get my other colleagues to do their best, and put processes in place to hopefully minimize preventable death," he said.

The two-year-old foundation has attracted a who's who of top health care quality experts to its summits, including decision-makers from Medicare. The second annual conference was in January at the Ritz Carlton Hotel in Laguna Nigel, Calif.

The foundation promotes a "culture of safety" and encourages the early identification of problems that can lead to patients being harmed. "The lack of safety culture results in concealment of errors and therefore a failure to learn from them," the foundation's guidelines state.

One member of the foundation's board said he was disappointed about Masimo's alleged lack of response. Masimo "has to improve because [companies] are a big part of our ability to get to zero preventable harm," said the board member, Dr. David Mayer, also a vice president of quality and safety at Medstar Health in Maryland. Mayer said he gets no compensation to sit on the board and pays his own expenses to attend its meetings.

The foundation's president, Jim Bialick, said the organization is primarily funded by a charitable offshoot of the company, the Masimo Foundation for Ethics, Innovation, and Competition in Healthcare.

In response to a question about whether the FDA's concerns would be addressed at the upcoming summit, Bialick said that was Masimo's choice. "I would imagine it would come up. Whether Masimo brings it up, that's up to them."

ProPublica is a nonprofit investigative reporting newsroom based in New York.

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