Remembering Ted Olson

Warmth, Grace, and the Morality of Law

Ted Olson, an admired and beloved Washington lawyer, died this month. I was lucky enough to know Ted for decades, but what was most memorable was my experience working for him at the Office of Legal Counsel (OLC) in the Department of Justice from early to late 1981.

As Assistant Attorney General, Ted had a challenging job. He had a staff of Carter holdovers - civil servants with diverse political views (I think), and not people who were committed to President Reagan’s agenda. At the same time, the incoming administration had a lot of ambitious plans, and many of them raised tough legal questions. It was OLC’s job to answer those questions.

As a political appointee, Ted was expected to work hard to give a green light, if he could, to the president - but the law is the law, and by tradition, OLC was used to giving yellow and red lights as well.

Here’s the first thing that Ted did: He greeted his staff with humility, humor, wit, and grace. There he was, our new boss, smiling, blond, warm, energetic, and delighted to be there, seeming to embody California’s enthusiasm and high spirits. I don’t remember his words, but I do remember the music. It was something like this: “A lot of these issues are so new to me, and you all are the experts - the all-star team. I am really lucky to get to work with you. I am going to learn as much as I can from you.” (Wow, truly, that he conveyed all that, in the midst of the transition from Carter to Reagan.)

Ted was relaxed and funny. There wasn’t a hint of suspicion; there wasn’t the slightest sense that he was on one side and we were on another. That was kind, and it was also smart. Because he saw us as part of his team, we did, too. And because we trusted us, we trusted him. Even better: He had a gift for friendship. He saw each of us, as individuals, with our virtues (we worked so hard!) and our foibles (we worked so hard!).

Within a week or so, we felt we had hit the jackpot. How’d we get so lucky?