Is a Halloween lawn display the new battleground for judicial impartiality?
Maryland Supreme Court Justice Peter Killough has landed in hot water over a politically charged setup at his home that’s raising eyebrows and serious questions about his objectivity in a major environmental lawsuit, according to Fox News.
At the heart of the controversy, Killough’s Halloween decor—featuring gravestone signs with left-leaning messages—has sparked criticism for potentially undermining his neutrality while he deliberates on a high-stakes climate case involving Baltimore and major oil companies.
Appointed by Democratic Gov. Wes Moore, Killough serves on the Maryland Supreme Court, one of seven justices shaping the state’s legal landscape. His home’s display, however, paints a different picture, with signs lamenting the demise of everything from constitutional rights to climate science. It’s a bold statement for a judge whose job demands a blindfold, not a soapbox.
Among the gravestones on Killough’s lawn are messages like “RIP Climate Science” and “Beware Health Insurance Cuts,” which critics argue scream partisan bias. Particularly troubling is the environmental angle, given Killough’s current role in a significant case pitting Baltimore against oil giants. How can a judge rule fairly when his front yard seems to pick a side?
The case, Mayor & City Council of Baltimore v. BP P.L.C., sees city officials accusing oil companies of deceiving the public about fossil fuels’ role in climate disasters like rising seas and extreme weather. Oral arguments were heard by the court on Oct. 6, with Killough among the justices tasked with a ruling. That environmentalist sign on his lawn isn’t just spooky—it’s a red flag.
Nick Cavey, spokesperson for the Maryland Judiciary, tried to distance Killough from the display, claiming “the signs belong to Justice Killough's wife” and that the justice “has no further comments.” Nice try, but a spouse’s signage doesn’t erase the perception of bias when it’s on a judge’s property. The public isn’t likely to buy that dodge.
Former Arizona Supreme Court Justice Andrew Gould didn’t mince words, stating, “It’s cast a shadow over the decision now. The public, whatever side you're on, is inevitably going to feel distrust.” His critique cuts deep—when a judge’s home looks like a political rally, how can anyone trust the gavel?
Gould went further, lamenting a broader trend of judges injecting personal views into their roles, especially those opposing certain political figures. He argued that such actions erode public faith in the judiciary, a concern that’s hard to dismiss when trust in institutions is already on thin ice.
Killough’s past doesn’t help his case either. Back in 2022, while a circuit court judge in Prince George’s County, he was reassigned from juvenile cases after local officials complained about lenient rulings on serious offenders. Then-Chief of Police Malik Aziz dubbed Killough’s courtroom a “catch and release” system, a stinging label for a judge now under scrutiny again.
One particularly jarring incident from Killough’s time in Prince George’s County involved releasing a 12-year-old who confessed to killing another teen, opting for monitored probation over detention. The victim’s mother, Ja’Ka McKnight, felt utterly dismissed by the decision, a sentiment that echoes the unease many now feel about Killough’s impartiality.
Critics like Gould argue that judges must strip away personal biases to uphold their oath, a principle that seems at odds with a Halloween display dripping with political commentary. When a justice’s lawn reads like a protest sign, it’s not just a seasonal stunt—it’s a breach of public confidence.
The timing couldn’t be worse, with the Baltimore climate case already argued and briefs submitted. As Gould pointed out, how do you “un-ring the bell” when a judge’s apparent leanings surface mid-process? It’s a mess that no amount of candy corn can sweeten.
The broader implications of this incident are sobering, as public distrust in the judiciary continues to grow. Displays like Killough’s only fan the flames, reinforcing the notion that some judges prioritize personal agendas over legal duty. It’s a dangerous precedent in an era craving fairness.
While progressives might cheer the messages on Killough’s lawn, conservatives and moderates alike can agree that a judge’s home shouldn’t double as a political billboard. Judicial restraint isn’t just a suggestion—it’s the bedrock of a system meant to serve all, not just those who share a justice’s views.
In the end, this Halloween controversy isn’t about ghosts or goblins, but about whether Justice Killough can haunt the bench without casting doubt on his rulings. The Maryland Supreme Court’s credibility hangs in the balance, and it’s up to its justices to prove that justice remains blind—even when the front yard isn’t.
