Alabama Supreme Court Associate Justice Jay Mitchell made headlines this week by resigning his judicial post to run for attorney general—but it was his resignation letter that truly grabbed attention, offering a rare glimpse into the mindset of a judge who seems eager to abandon judicial restraint for political combat.
Mitchell’s letter is striking not just for what it says, but for what it reveals about how some in the judiciary now see their roles. He writes that serving on the Supreme Court has been “the privilege of a lifetime,” but that his position as a judge “limits what I can say and do for our state and country.” He feels called, he says, to play a larger role in ensuring that President Donald Trump’s agenda “takes root not only in Washington, but also in the state.”
What is most remarkable, however, is how Mitchell chooses to frame his judicial legacy. He cites as accomplishments his “key judicial opinions that uphold Alabama’s criminal laws and keep violent offenders locked up; that protect the sanctity of human life and confirm the truth that life begins at conception; and that keep wokeness and DEI out of our courts and the legal profession.”
To many, this language is jarring. “Wokeness” and “DEI” (diversity, equity, and inclusion) are not legal terms, but slogans borrowed from the culture wars, deployed here as if they are self-evident threats to justice rather than complex, contested ideas about fairness and equal treatment under the law. For a judge to use such language is to adopt the posture of a political operative, not a neutral arbiter.
Equally troubling is Mitchell’s insistence that “life begins at conception” is a “truth” confirmed by his rulings. This is not a legal conclusion but a theological or philosophical assertion, one that oversimplifies the profound moral and medical complexities of reproductive rights. The job of a judge is to interpret the law, not to reduce life’s most difficult questions to bumper-sticker slogans.
Mitchell’s resignation letter, then, is a reminder of what happens when judges see themselves as foot soldiers in a political movement rather than guardians of the law. It is a departure from the ideal of an impartial judiciary—one that should concern all who value the rule of law, regardless of political affiliation.
Governor Kay Ivey has already appointed Judge Bill Lewis to fill Mitchell’s seat. Lewis, a respected jurist with decades of experience, will have big shoes to fill—but perhaps not the kind of shoes that anyone should want to wear if they value the dignity and impartiality of the bench.
Mitchell’s letter is a sign of the times. But it is also a warning: when judges trade their robes for political slogans, everyone loses.