On Wednesday, the Senate Judiciary Committee held its first judicial nominations hearing of President Donald Trump’s second term. They heard from Trump’s first batch of potential federal judges since he returned to the White House: four nominees to Missouri federal district courts and a nominee to the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 6th Circuit, the federal appeals court for Kentucky, Michigan, Ohio and Tennessee.
The 6th Circuit nominee, Whitney Hermandorfer, is impressively credentialed. Both the valedictorian of her law school class at George Washington University and the editor-in-chief of the law review, she worked at litigation powerhouse Williams & Connolly in Washington, D.C., where current partners sing her praises. Hermandorfer clerked for four federal judges, including three sitting Supreme Court justices. And after returning to her home state of Tennessee, she has served as the director of strategic litigation at the state attorney general’s office.
If I were invited to lunch with Hermandorfer, I expect she would be — as she was during Wednesday’s hearing — modest, poised, interesting and likable. But her paper trail and some of her exchanges with senators could be ominous signs of the Trump judicial nominees to come.
Put aside that Hermandorfer graduated from law school just 10 years ago and served as a law clerk for four of them. Her six years of actual legal practice is roughly half of what the American Bar Association considers necessary to be qualified for a federal judgeship.
What’s far more troubling is how she has spent that time and what she won’t discuss.
For example, Hermandorfer signed Tennessee’s amicus brief in one of the birthright citizenship cases now before the Supreme Court. Tennessee’s brief echoes the Trump administration’s primary arguments:
- First, the citizenship clause does not confer citizenship simply because of a child’s “presence” in the U.S.
- And second, in any event, an injunction that extends beyond the plaintiffs in a given case and applies nationally is an unlawful exercise of judicial power.
When Sen. Dick Durbin, D-Ill., asked Hermandorfer why Tennessee submitted that brief, she said: “We were not satisfied that all of the information regarding the contemporaneous meaning of the Fourteenth Amendment was being presented to the various courts, given that the litigation was proceeding so quickly.” She elaborated that Tennessee’s brief highlighted “1800s-era sources regarding the meaning of the Fourteenth Amendment” and maintained that the state “did not take an ultimate position with regard to the merits of the executive order,” but instead intended to underscore that it isn’t an “open-and-shut case.”
That all sounds fair, right?
Yet the brief’s first page argues plainly that if the Constitution’s citizenship clause is interpreted to focus on “parental domicile,” or where someone’s parents reside, rather than mere presence, Trump’s executive order banning birthright citizenship is constitutional. That position is not only antithetical to more than 125 years of American jurisprudence and lived experience, but her response to Durbin also raises questions about her veracity.
Hermandorfer’s exchange with Sen. Amy Klobuchar about habeas corpus, the legal means by which a prisoner or detainee can seek release, was similarly revealing.








