The high cost of judicial bias: Why Judge Goodman’s trial should proceed | Opinion

The Kentucky Supreme Court recently stepped into uncharted territory, halting the impeachment proceedings against Fayette Circuit Judge Julie Goodman. While the court framed its decision as a defense of the “separation of powers” and “due process,” the ruling effectively silences those of us who have experienced firsthand the bias that has long emanated from Julie Goodman’s courtroom. As a witness, I saw a side of Judge Goodman that the law books won’t show you — a side that suggests the legislature is not just within its rights to investigate her but has a moral imperative to do so.

The Supreme Court’s 5-1 ruling suggests that Goodman’s impeachment was based solely on the “unpopularity” of six specific rulings. However, judicial fitness isn’t just about the final verdict; it is about the temperament and impartiality displayed during the process. This isn’t about opinions; it’s about the rule of law.

I sat in Judge Goodman’s courtroom as a witness for a dear friend and mentor who had passed away. I was there to testify to his signature on a handwritten will. I had no stake in the inheritance; I was there to ensure a dead man’s final wishes were honored.

Instead of a fair hearing, I was subjected to a pointed interrogation about my history and my reasons for knowing the deceased. I was even called derogatory names by Judge Goodman. Throughout the hearing, she insulted the memory of my friend, further desecrating his name by calling him an “addict.” She did this despite knowing that at the time of his death, he was 30 years sober and had helped lead one of the largest and most successful men’s recovery programs in the state.

A judge who views recovery not as a triumph of character, but as a permanent stain of unreliability, is a judge who cannot provide equal justice under the law. She used the beautiful gift of recovery to discredit my statements and dishonor my friend’s life achievements. Judge Goodman looked at our shared commitment to the recovery community and declared from the bench that our voices carried no weight in the eyes of the law. For a judge to use the stigma of recovery to belittle a witness is more than a “disagreeable ruling.” It is a fundamental violation of the truth the court is tasked to seek.

The Kentucky Supreme Court argues that the Judicial Conduct Commission is the “appropriate venue” for reprimand. But when a judge shows a blatant bias against an entire class of people — in this case, those in recovery — it becomes a matter of public trust that transcends administrative commissions. While one story alone might not reach the threshold of impeachment, this is about a pattern of bias, the rule of law, and legislative oversight.

Like it or not, judges still have rules that they must follow. Those rules are laws written by representatives of the people. By attempting to halt the trial, the Supreme Court has sent a chilling message: the bench is a fortress, protected from the oversight of the people’s representatives even when a judge’s conduct is called into question by a 73-14 vote in the House.

The Senate trial should be the venue to determine if this pattern of behavior constitutes an abuse of office. By stopping the clock, the Court has not saved the Constitution; they have merely protected one of their own at the expense of the citizens who must stand, vulnerable and seeking truth, in her courtroom.

Mica Nicole is a political analyst in Lexington.

This story was originally published April 8, 2026 at 6:00 AM.