Narrator: In June 2013, a 24-year-old law student named Shana Knizhnik was aghast. The Supreme Court had just weakened the Voting Rights Act, a landmark piece of civil rights legislation. But as she read the news, she was struck by the fiery dissent of one of the justices, 80-year-old Ruth Bader Ginsburg. Ginsburg didn't just disagree; she read her dissent aloud from the bench, a rare and powerful act of protest. She compared the court's logic to "throwing away your umbrella in a rainstorm because you are not getting wet." Inspired by this display of intellectual force, Knizhnik created a Tumblr blog, playfully giving the diminutive justice a new moniker inspired by a famous rapper: "The Notorious R.B.G." The meme went viral, transforming a respected jurist into an unlikely pop culture icon.

This cultural explosion is the entry point into Notorious RBG: The Life and Times of Ruth Bader Ginsburg by Shana Knizhnik and Irin Carmon. The book explores the life and legacy of the woman behind the meme, revealing a quiet revolutionary whose entire life was a masterclass in how to change the world, not with a single explosion, but with patient, strategic, and relentless pressure.

Narrator: Ruth Bader Ginsburg's lifelong fight for equality was forged in her childhood, profoundly shaped by her mother, Celia Bader. Celia was a brilliant woman who graduated from high school at fifteen, but her family, adhering to the norms of the early 20th century, sent her brother to college instead. She went to work in a garment factory, her own intellectual ambitions permanently thwarted. Celia poured all her hopes into her daughter, Ruth, instilling in her two seemingly contradictory pieces of advice that would become the foundation of her character: "always be a lady" and "always be independent."

To Celia, being a "lady" wasn't about being demure or submissive. It meant never letting emotions like anger or envy control you. It was a strategy for navigating a hostile world with civility and grace, ensuring that the force of one's arguments, not the volume of one's voice, would win the day. At the same time, she urged Ruth to be independent, capable of fending for herself so she would never have to rely on a man. This dual philosophy—of calm composure and fierce self-reliance—was cemented by tragedy. Celia battled cancer throughout Ruth's teenage years and died the day before Ruth's high school graduation. Ruth, heartbroken but resolute, knew what her mother wanted for her: to succeed. This early loss, combined with experiences of anti-Semitism, like seeing signs that read "No Dogs or Jews Allowed," instilled in her a deep sense of justice and the quiet determination to dismantle the unfair systems she saw around her.

Narrator: When Ruth attended Cornell University in the 1950s, the prevailing wisdom was that women were there to earn their "M.R.S. degree." Society expected women to downplay their intelligence to attract a husband. Ruth, however, was intensely focused on her studies, so much so that her roommate once remarked, "You could drop a bomb over her head and she wouldn’t know it." It was at Cornell that she met Martin "Marty" Ginsburg, a man who was utterly unique for his time. He wasn't intimidated by her intellect; he was captivated by it.

Their partnership was a radical act of equality in a deeply unequal era. A famous story from their early marriage perfectly illustrates this. Stationed at an army base in Oklahoma, Ruth attempted to cook a tuna casserole. Marty took one look at the unappetizing dish and, instead of complaining, decided to learn how to cook himself. He applied his chemistry knowledge to mastering French cuisine and became the family's celebrated chef for the rest of their lives. This wasn't just about food; it was about Marty recognizing Ruth's brilliance and willingly stepping outside traditional gender roles to create the space for her to thrive. This unwavering support was a stark contrast to the world outside their home. When Ruth was one of only nine women at Harvard Law School, the dean invited them to a dinner and asked each woman to justify taking a spot that could have gone to a man. The blatant sexism she faced, from being demoted from a job for being pregnant to being denied entry to a library reading room, only strengthened her resolve, with Marty always in her corner.

Narrator: As a lawyer and professor in the 1960s and 70s, Ginsburg became the chief architect of the legal fight against gender discrimination. But her approach was not to demand radical, sweeping change all at once. She knew the nine male justices on the Supreme Court would not be receptive to that. Instead, she devised a brilliant, incremental strategy. As the director of the ACLU's Women's Rights Project, she began picking her cases carefully, aiming to build a foundation of precedent, one brick at a time.

Her most ingenious tactic was to represent male plaintiffs. She understood that the all-male judiciary might better understand gender discrimination if they saw how it harmed men, too. Her first major victory came in the case of Moritz v. Commissioner. Charles Moritz was a single man who had been denied a tax deduction for the cost of caring for his elderly mother. The law only allowed the deduction for women or widowers, operating on the sexist assumption that men were not caregivers. Ginsburg argued that this law was unconstitutional because it discriminated based on gender. She won. With this victory, she established a crucial legal precedent: laws that treated men and women differently were unconstitutional. She followed this with other landmark cases, like Reed v. Reed, which struck down an Idaho law preferring men over women to administer estates, and Frontiero v. Richardson, which challenged discriminatory military benefits. Her strategy was to be a "kindergarten teacher," patiently explaining to the courts, step by step, that gender discrimination was irrational and harmful to everyone.

Narrator: In 1993, President Bill Clinton nominated Ginsburg to the Supreme Court. During her confirmation hearings, she was poised and precise, establishing what became known as the "Ginsburg rule" by politely declining to preview how she would rule on future cases. Once on the court, she brought the same methodical and powerful intellect that had defined her career as an advocate.

Her most significant majority opinion came in 1996 in United States v. Virginia. The case concerned the Virginia Military Institute (VMI), a prestigious, state-funded military college that had refused to admit women for its entire 157-year history. VMI argued that its "adversative method" of training, designed to break down cadets and build them back up, would be destroyed by the presence of women. Ginsburg, writing for the majority, dismantled this argument. She stated that the government must have an "exceedingly persuasive justification" for any law that discriminates based on gender. VMI had none. Her opinion was a powerful culmination of her life's work. In a key passage, she argued that for women to become leaders, "men have got to become accustomed to taking commands from women." The court ordered VMI to admit women, striking a major blow against gender-based exclusion and demonstrating that the principles she had fought for as a lawyer were now the law of the land.

Narrator: As the Supreme Court grew more conservative over the years, Ginsburg often found herself in the minority. But she transformed the act of dissent into a powerful tool for change. She believed a dissent was an appeal "to the intelligence of a future day." Her most impactful dissent came in the 2007 case Ledbetter v. Goodyear Tire & Rubber Co. Lilly Ledbetter had worked at Goodyear for nearly two decades, only to discover late in her career that she was being paid significantly less than her male counterparts. The court's majority ruled against her, claiming she had filed her lawsuit too late.

Ginsburg was furious. In a rare move, she read her dissent from the bench, her voice filled with controlled anger. She explained that pay discrimination is often hidden, and the court's ruling ignored the realities of the workplace. She ended her dissent with a direct call to action, stating that "the ball is in Congress's court" to correct the injustice. Her words galvanized the public and lawmakers. In 2009, the first bill President Barack Obama signed into law was the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act, which effectively overturned the court's decision. This, along with her dissent in the Voting Rights Act case that sparked the "Notorious RBG" meme, cemented her legacy. She showed that even in losing, a justice could lay the groundwork for future victories and inspire a new generation to continue the fight.

Narrator: Ultimately, Notorious RBG reveals that Ruth Bader Ginsburg's monumental legacy was built not on a single, grand gesture, but on a lifetime of patient, strategic, and unyielding effort. The book's central takeaway is her profound belief in incrementalism: "Real change, enduring change, happens one step at a time." She understood that you don't tear down a deeply entrenched system overnight. You find a crack, insert a legal wedge, and gently, persistently, widen it until the entire structure gives way.

Perhaps the most challenging and inspiring aspect of her life was her famous friendship with her ideological opposite, Justice Antonin Scalia. They disagreed fiercely on nearly every major legal issue, yet they shared a deep personal bond, a love for opera, and a profound respect for each other. In an era of intense political polarization, their relationship serves as a powerful final thought. It challenges us to consider whether it's possible to hold our convictions with unshakeable resolve while still recognizing the humanity, and even finding friendship, in those who stand on the other side.