We should be worried about the Supreme Court of the United States.

Last week’s revelations about Justice Clarence Thomas are deeply troubling. The investigative nonprofit news team ProPublica reported that Thomas has been taking trips on a private jet, vacationing on a superyacht, and for nearly 20 years, retreating to an exclusive resort in upstate New York. It’s all been paid for by Dallas-based billionaire Harlan Crow, a close friend of the justice.

I am transfixed by a painting hanging at Crow’s resort. There’s Thomas sitting comfortably wearing a vest, polo shirt, and khakis. He’s talking as he holds a cigar in the mellow afternoon light.

Crow sits beside him. In an interview with a Harvard Business School alumni club, Crow called Marxism — the 19th century economic theory that has struggled to find any real application after 1989 — his greatest fear and identified “free enterprises” as the cause he cared deeply about. Perhaps that’s why he gives so much money to conservative causes and groups.

Three lawyers in the painting are focused on Thomas rapt with attention. Mark Paoletta sits at the base of an odd statue of a shirtless Native American man. Paoletta was in the Trump administration helping nominees prepare for their confirmation hearings, including two Supreme Court picks. Before that, he worked under President George H. W. Bush and was instrumental in Thomas’ confirmation.

Next to Paoletta drinking what looks like iced tea is Peter “Bo” Rutledge, dean of the law school at the University of Georgia and former law clerk to Thomas. His biography on the law school’s website describes one of his biggest wins in the Supreme Court.

In 2008, the Supreme Court took up a criminal defendant’s appeal after he lost in the appellate courts. The prosecution decided not to fight it so the court appointed Rutledge to defend the judgment below. Rutledge won, making him among the few attorneys to successfully defend the judgment after the government refused. Thomas never recused himself from that case and ruled for Rutledge.

Then there’s Leonard Leo. He is co-chairman of the Federalist Society, an organization that has been reshaping the law for the last 40 years. Leo helped Trump in selecting three justices to the Supreme Court and has been the go-to man for other judicial picks. For decades Leo has been the behind-the-scenes force pushing the Supreme Court further and further to the right by raising dark money from anonymous donors and strategic lawsuits.

Had the reporters at ProPublica not investigated, the story and this painting probably would have never been seen by the public — that’s the distressing part.

What if you were up against one of the lawyers in the painting? What if your case hurts Crow’s version of free enterprise? What if he perceives it as Marxism? And what if it’s going to be heard by Justice Thomas?

Compare that to our state. Every state judge — from the chief justice of the Hawaii Supreme Court to part-time judges in traffic court — are bound by the Code of Judicial Conduct. The code stresses that judges must avoid the very appearance of impropriety. Judges cannot “accept any gifts, loans, bequests, or other things of value” when it “would appear to a reasonable person to materially impair” their integrity, independence, and impartiality.

There are exceptions. Judges are people too. The rule permits small gifts from friends, relatives, “or other persons, including lawyers” and “ordinary social hospitality” from others. But the code still requires judges to assess the risk that accepting a gift could be viewed as an attempt to influence them.

Our judges must also disclose gifts in annual financial disclosure statements accessible on the Judiciary’s website. The gifts in these statements are nothing like the wealth detailed in the ProPublica story.

“How do you explain to the American people when they discover that every part of our government structure, all other agencies, have codes of conduct, but the United States Supreme Court does not?”

For example, in 2021 two Big Island judges disclosed gifts they received after being sworn in. They received koa bowls, flowers, cutting boards, and pens from friends and local bar associations each valued under $1,000. A judge on Maui disclosed hotel accommodations paid by his alma mater after he accepted an invitation to teach summer classes on trial advocacy.

The late Judge Darolyn Heim’s disclosure statement is an exemplary contrast to Crow’s undisclosed and lavish “social hospitality.” Heim received from state Sen. Sharon Moriwake a book about the homeless crisis valued at exactly $25.99.

The Supreme Court needs that kind of transparency. Whether you’re a criminal defendant staring at years of imprisonment, a parent fighting for custody of your kids, or a corporate officer going after debtors, it’s not enough for the judge to be fair, it has to look fair too. To build confidence and assure the public that the rule of law works, the judicial process must be above reproach.

While every judge in every other state and territory adheres to a code like ours, the justices in the highest court in the land do not. The sad irony is that those whose interpretation of the U.S. Constitution binds us all are not bound by a strict code of ethics. Instead, they have self-imposed guidelines.

It doesn’t have to be this way. Law professor Steven Vladek noted that for about two centuries Congress monitored what cases the justices heard, their travel expenses and the building they met in. That oversight receded in the 20th century. Vladek wrote that “what we keep seeing, both on the docket and off, are symptoms of an unregulated, unaccountable Court.”

In February, the American Bar Association passed a resolution urging the Supreme Court to adopt an ethics code and align itself with all the other judges in the country. The attorney introducing the resolution proved prophetic:

“How do you explain to the American people when they discover that every part of our government structure, all other agencies, have codes of conduct, but the United States Supreme Court does not?”

Justice Thomas gave us one. A day after the story broke, he issued a terse response. He was advised by unnamed colleagues that he didn’t have to report this “sort of personal hospitality from close personal friends.”

That suggests other justices may be doing the same thing and not disclosing it. But rest assured, he reports that the guidelines are being changed and “it is, of course, my intent to follow this guidance in the future.”

Feel better now?

More than 50 years ago, Hawaii Lt. Gov. Tom Gill challenged Gov. John Burns in the primary of 1970. He argued that although Burns was decent and forthright, he was surrounded by shady people. Gill famously called them the governor’s “alarming friends.” That wasn’t necessarily against the law, but it wasn’t right.

The same is true here. Even if Thomas followed the guidelines — and it’s not clear if he did — we still have his “alarming friends.”

At the end of the day, Justice Thomas is one of nine government employees engaging in an extremely important public service where impartiality and the appearance of impartiality are paramount. The ProPublica story — and the painting — show us otherwise.

If you can afford to fly folks around in a private jet to your personal private resort, you and your friends get to talk story with someone who will decide the constitutional issues of our times. It gives a terrible new meaning to the words access to justice.