By David Costello*
Chief Justice Carlos Muñiz and his clerks read thousands of legal briefs each year. But they still make time to read novels—call it an informal chambers book club. Right now, they are reading Patrick D. Smith’s A Land Remembered. The story chronicles the fictional MacIvey family, who settle in Florida, battle the elements, and persevere to build a better life for future generations. It’s a story of progress, growth, humility, and sacrifice.
It is hard not to draw parallels between the novel’s protagonists and the Chief Justice. Like the MacIveys, Chief Justice Muñiz also settled in Florida, growing up first in Falls Church, Virginia—a small town just west of Washington, D.C. His parents worked hard to provide for their children and instill in the Chief a rigorous work ethic and service-oriented mindset. His mother was a career public servant, holding many posts with the federal government. And his father was an economist who worked for the International Monetary Fund, a global organization that maintains stability in the worldwide financial system.
Proximity to our Nation’s capital helped spur the Chief’s passion for American democracy, but he had personal reasons, too. His father fled Nicaragua in 1979 after the country was swept by a violent wave of Marxism in the Nicaraguan Revolution. The hard-earned admiration his father held for America’s system inspired the Chief to study government at the University of Virginia. There he met his academic mentor, David O’Brien—a celebrated political scientist and renowned expert on the U.S. Supreme Court—who motivated him to pursue a legal career. After watching the levers of government at work during the confirmation hearings for Supreme Court nominee Robert Bork, his mind was made up: He would become a lawyer.
Before that, though, he would become a public servant. After graduating with his bachelor’s degree, the Chief joined the Department of Justice as an analyst in the Civil Rights Division, specializing in voting rights. Three years later, he was admitted to Yale Law School. Upon graduation, he immediately re-entered public service, clerking for a pair of federal judges: Thomas A. Flannery of the United States District Court for the District of Columbia, and José A. Cabranes of the United States Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit.
After a two-year spell in private practice at Hogan & Hartson (now Hogan Lovells), Chief Justice Muñiz took a professional risk that altered the course of his career. Reading the paper one day in 2001, he came across an article about his current Florida Supreme Court colleague—Justice Charles T. Canady. Back then, Justice Canady was a member of the U.S. House of Representatives, and he had recently announced that he would not seek re-election and instead would honor a term-limits pledge that he had made a decade before. Justice Canady’s commitment to his principles struck a chord with the Chief, and when Justice Canady was appointed General Counsel for Florida Governor Jeb Bush, Chief Justice Muñiz applied for, and obtained, the post as Justice Canady’s deputy.
That decision sparked a storied legal career. Chief Justice Muñiz would go on to hold posts at the highest levels of state government. After working in the Governor’s office, he became General Counsel for the Florida Department of Financial Services. He later served as Deputy Chief of Staff and Counsel for then-Speaker of the Florida House of Representatives, Marco Rubio. After that, he served as Deputy Attorney General and Chief of Staff for Florida Attorney General Pam Bondi. Along the way, the Chief Justice worked at powerhouse private law firms, like Florida-based GrayRobinson, and D.C. litigation boutique Bancroft Associates. Later, he became a partner in the Jacksonville office of AmLaw 100 firm, McGuireWoods, where he represented Florida State University in a high-profile Title IX case. That experience ignited the Chief’s interest in education law and led him to be appointed by the President, and confirmed by the Senate, as General Counsel to United States Secretary of Education, Betsy DeVos.
Despite his lengthy career in public service, the Chief never expected to be a judge, let alone a Justice of the Florida Supreme Court. But when a spot on the Court opened up, he believed that his wide-ranging experience would help him contribute to the Court’s important work. He applied for the position, and in 2019, Governor DeSantis appointed him as the 89th Justice of the Florida Supreme Court.
Since then, much of the Chief’s jurisprudence has focused on the interpretative methods that help jurists reach the right answer. In Conage v. United States, for example, the Chief dispensed with Florida’s rule that courts may use canons of construction only if the text is unclear, freeing jurists instead to consider “all textual and structural clues” when construing language. 346 So. 3d 594, 598 (Fla. 2022) (citation omitted). The Chief’s opinions exemplify that investigative process, deftly wielding textual canons to analyze clues and uncover meaning. See, e.g., C.N. v. I.G.C., 316 So. 3d 287, 290–92 (Fla. 2021); Fla. Highway Patrol v. Jackson, 288 So. 3d 1179, 1182–86 (Fla. 2020).
But while the Chief’s opinions are both well-written and well-reasoned, they are no substitute for simply hearing him talk about methods of interpretation. The topic energizes him. He breezes through the theories of James Bradley Thayer and Antonin Scalia with ease, discussing the concepts casually, like they’re old friends. That he is comfortable with the subject is no surprise; he teaches a class called “Textualism and its Rivals” at Florida State University’s College of Law. The class aims to encourage young lawyers to think critically about how text should be analyzed. But the Chief also appreciates that teaching construction makes him a better constructionist: To teach is to learn twice, after all.
Just three years into his tenure with the Court, the Chief’s colleagues elected him Chief Justice. His mission for the State’s judiciary is straightforward: Create a culture of excellence; approach the work with a mindset of service; and earn the public’s trust through fidelity to the judicial role. He recognizes that Florida’s courts still have challenges to overcome, like streamlining case management and responding to the overflow of cases stalled by the COVID-19 pandemic. But he finds himself inspired by the dedicated public servants who comprise the Florida Court System, and confident that the judiciary will continue to be one of which Floridians can be proud.
Near the end of my discussion with the Chief, I found myself asking him for advice. What would he tell young lawyers aspiring to have a career like his? His main tip: treat people well. Beyond that, he implored young lawyers not to shy from professional risks; to instead take leaps of faith. Finally, he urged young lawyers to work for people and causes that they believe in. “If you do that,” he said, “no matter where you end up, it will have been worth it.”
*David M. Costello is a Deputy Solicitor General in the Florida Solicitor General’s Office and an Adjunct Professor of Law at Stetson University College of Law. He is co-chair of the Hillsborough County Bar Association’s Appellate Practice Section.
