In this the age of shameless self-promotion, Supreme Court nominee David Souter comes onto the national stage as an oddity. No one knows quite what to make of a man who has a life, not a life-style, who lives modestly, works hard, spends inconspicuously, attends church, enjoys solitude, honors his mother, and helps his neighbors. While part of being a public official these days is vying for an appearance on Nightline, Souter is extremely publicity shy, pursuing a life of quiet introspection.
When he was named attorney general of New Hampshire in 1976, Souter decided not to move into the office that went along with the job. Instead, he stayed put in the adjoining office he had occupied as the department's No. 2 man and gave the more prestigious quarters -- and the attention of the press -- to his deputy, Tom Rath, who welcomed it. Souter labored behind the scenes and spread the glory around. Then assistant attorney general Bill Glahn recalls, "If you screwed up, David took the blame. If you did well, you got the credit."
That self-deprecating style has made Souter the Nowhere Man, a tabula rasa in the cult of personality -- and so the perfect post-Bork appointment. Law- review articles asserting opinions on controversial subjects? There are none. Sweeping court decisions? Souter, as a trial and appellate judge, narrowly ruled on the facts at hand. In Souter, Bush may have found the last person in America who does not think in opinionated sound bites. Souter, with his Yankee reticence, does not presume anyone would be interested in what he thinks if legal scholars have already thought about it. In that, he may be the answer to the President's secret moderate dreams: someone conservative enough to allay right-wing suspicions that he has been insufficiently sympathetic to their causes but at the same time unknown enough to keep liberals from finding anything on which to hang another bruising confirmation fight.
As it turns out, Souter, like everyone, has a personality, if not strong personal opinions, and a rich inner life, which he was able to keep to himself until last Monday. Friends describe him as a combination of the intellectual, scholarly, never married Justice Benjamin Cardozo and a tightfisted solitary cleric. In looks and wit, he resembles comedian Pat Paulsen; in his 5 o'clock shadow, Richard Nixon. He favors well-worn suits (black robes are said to add color to his wardrobe), cheap cars (a 1987 Volkswagen), non-power lunches (cottage cheese and an apple) and classical music. His main indulgence is to go off with his small circle of friends to Boston for the symphony, with a stop at Goodspeed's, a rare print-and-book shop in the city. There he purchased the 1850s print of the Merrimack River and Concord that hangs above the stereo in his living room. He is an accomplished mimic, doing a wicked imitation of Meldrim Thomson Jr., the archconservative former Governor who named him attorney general.