He sits there, stone-faced, behind a nameplate in a wood-panneled hearing room while people scream at him. It's a weirdly consistent image. Whether you're watching clips from 2022 or the latest round of Congressional testimony, Merrick Garland always looks exactly the same: patient, a little weary, and intensely careful about every single syllable that leaves his mouth. Most people know him as the guy who didn't get onto the Supreme Court because of some high-stakes political maneuvering in 2016. But honestly, his tenure as the 86th former US Attorney General is what’s going to fill the history books. It’s a legacy defined by a "by-the-book" obsession that either makes him a hero of institutional integrity or a frustratingly slow actor, depending entirely on who you ask at the local diner.
Politics is messy. Garland tries to treat it like a math equation.
When Joe Biden tapped him for the job, the Department of Justice (DOJ) was basically a lightning rod. People were exhausted. The department had been through years of turmoil, accusations of weaponization, and a rotating door of leadership. Garland’s pitch was simple: I’m going to make the DOJ boring again. He wanted to de-politicize the building. He talked about "returning to the norms." But here’s the thing—when you’re dealing with things like the January 6th investigation, the classified documents case at Mar-a-Lago, and the prosecution of the President’s own son, "boring" isn't really an option on the menu.
The Institutionalist in a Firestorm
Garland is what D.C. insiders call a "judge’s judge." Before he was the former US Attorney General, he spent decades on the U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit. That’s where the habit comes from. Judges don’t rush. They don’t tweet. They don’t care about the 24-hour news cycle. This temperament was supposed to be his superpower.
Instead, it became a point of massive friction.
Progressives spent years pulling their hair out because they felt he was moving too slowly on investigations involving Donald Trump. They wanted fire; Garland gave them filings. On the flip side, Republicans have spent the last few years accusing him of "weaponizing" the DOJ against political opponents. It’s a wild paradox. He is simultaneously criticized for being too timid and too aggressive.
If you look at the actual record, Garland’s DOJ was actually incredibly busy. We’re talking about more than 1,200 people charged in relation to the Capitol riot. That’s a logistical nightmare. It’s the largest criminal investigation in American history. Garland insisted that they started at the bottom and worked their way up, like a classic mob hit investigation. No shortcuts. No skipping steps. This methodical pace is his trademark, but in a world that moves at the speed of a TikTok scroll, that deliberation looks like hesitation to a lot of voters.
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Domestic Terrorism and the New Front Lines
People forget that Merrick Garland’s history with the DOJ didn't start in 2021. He was a key figure in the prosecution of the Oklahoma City bombers back in the 90s. He saw the remains of the Murrah Federal Building. He saw the carnage. That experience baked a very specific fear into his DNA: domestic violent extremism.
When he took over as Attorney General, he signaled that this was the top priority. He wasn't just talking about January 6th. He was talking about the rise of white supremacist groups and militia movements.
- He pushed for increased funding for domestic terrorism units.
- The DOJ shifted resources toward tracking online radicalization.
- He frequently reminded the public that the greatest threat to the "homeland" wasn't coming from overseas anymore, but from within.
This focus ruffled a lot of feathers. When the DOJ issued a memo about threats against school board members, it turned into a massive political scandal. Critics claimed he was trying to silence parents. Garland argued he was just trying to protect public servants from violence. This is the recurring theme of his career: he tries to apply a neutral legal standard to a hyper-partisan issue and gets caught in the crossfire every single time.
The Hunter Biden Dilemma
You can't talk about the former US Attorney General without talking about the Hunter Biden investigation. It’s the ultimate "damned if you do, damned if you don't" scenario. To prove his independence, Garland kept David Weiss—a Trump-appointed U.S. Attorney—on the case. He eventually gave Weiss Special Counsel status.
From Garland's perspective, this was the ultimate proof of a fair system. He wasn't interfering. He was letting the process play out, even if it meant the President's son faced a trial during an election year.
But did it satisfy the critics? Not even a little. To the right, the charges were too late or too "soft." To some on the left, it felt like a distraction. It highlights a core truth about Garland's philosophy: he believes that if you follow the process, the result is legitimate. But in 2026, many Americans don't trust the process anymore, no matter how many times you cite the DOJ handbook.
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Civil Rights and Police Reform
While the big headlines were about Trump and Biden, Garland was quietly trying to overhaul how the DOJ handles local police departments. This is where he actually moved pretty fast. He rescinded the "Sessions Memo," which had made it harder for the federal government to use "consent decrees" to reform troubled police departments.
He opened "pattern or practice" investigations into police departments in places like Minneapolis, Louisville, and Phoenix.
These aren't just polite suggestions. These are massive, court-ordered overhauls of how police use force and interact with the community. For Garland, this was about "equal justice under the law." He saw it as a core mission of the DOJ that had been neglected. If you ask civil rights advocates, this is where his real legacy lies. It’s not in the high-profile trials, but in the gritty, boring work of fixing broken systems in cities most people only see on the news.
The Special Counsel Era
Garland’s reliance on Special Counsels—Jack Smith, Robert Hur, David Weiss—was a deliberate choice to insulate the DOJ from claims of bias. He basically outsourced the biggest political headaches.
It’s a fascinating strategy. By appointing Jack Smith to handle the Jan 6 and documents cases, Garland tried to create a firewall. He wanted to be able to say, "I'm not the one making the charging decisions."
But the reality of the Law and Order environment is that the buck always stops with the AG. When Robert Hur’s report came out with comments about Joe Biden’s memory, the White house was reportedly furious. When Jack Smith’s cases hit roadblocks in the Supreme Court regarding immunity, the pressure went right back onto Garland. You can't actually hide from politics in Washington, D.C., even if you’re a career judge with a lifetime of experience in staying neutral.
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Why His Legacy Is So Complicated
The story of the former US Attorney General is really a story about the survival of American institutions. Garland isn't a charismatic politician. He’s not a "fighter" in the way modern partisans want. He’s a librarian of the law.
He genuinely believes that the Department of Justice is a sacred place that must remain separate from the whims of the White House. He spent four years trying to rebuild a wall that had been knocked down. Whether that wall is actually standing now is a matter of fierce debate. Some say he saved the DOJ's soul. Others say he was too "weak" to meet the moment's challenges.
The truth is probably somewhere in the middle. He was a man of the 20th-century legal world trying to navigate a 21st-century political apocalypse.
What You Can Take Away From the Garland Era
Understanding how the DOJ operates isn't just for lawyers or political junkies. It actually affects your life. When the DOJ changes its stance on marijuana (which Garland moved to reclassify) or how it handles antitrust cases against big tech companies like Google and Apple, your daily world shifts.
If you want to track where the DOJ goes from here, keep an eye on these specific indicators:
- The Use of Special Counsels: See if future AGs continue to "outsource" big cases or if they take them back in-house. This tells you how much they value perceived independence versus direct control.
- Antitrust Enforcement: Garland’s DOJ was surprisingly aggressive here. If you see fewer lawsuits against tech giants, it signals a shift back to a more "hands-off" business approach.
- Judicial Appointments: Garland’s influence lives on through the judges he helped vet. The philosophy of "restraint" is his biggest export.
Most people will remember the missed Supreme Court seat. That’s the "what if" of history. But the actual work he did—the methodical, grinding, often frustrating work of the Department of Justice—is what actually changed the country. He didn't fix the divide in America. He didn't even try to. He just tried to make sure the rules still applied, even when nobody wanted to follow them.
To really understand the impact, you have to look past the cable news shouting matches. Look at the court filings. Look at the policy shifts. Look at the way the DOJ talks to the public. It's a different department than it was in 2020. It's quieter. It's more formal. It's "Garlandized." Whether that's a good thing is a question we'll be answering for the next twenty years.
To stay informed on current DOJ actions or to research specific case filings from the Garland era, you can visit the official Department of Justice news archive. Keeping tabs on the "Briefing Room" section is the best way to see the raw data of how federal law is being applied without the filter of political commentary. You should also look at the Office of the Inspector General reports to see how internal audits are evaluating the department’s performance during this period. Monitoring these primary sources is the only way to bypass the spin and see the actual mechanics of federal justice in action.