Collins’s Kavanaugh vote becomes key weapon for opponents

Sen. Susan Collins's 2018 decision to confirm Justice Brett Kavanaugh has come full circle, transforming from a carefully hedged vote with public assurances about Roe's durability into the sharpest weapon her opponents wield in 2024. Collins famously stated at the time that Kavanaugh had assured her he viewed Roe as "settled law" and would not overturn it — a claim that now rings hollow to many voters given the Court's actual trajectory. The political irony is unmistakable: Collins sought to thread a needle between her stated support for abortion rights and her party's judicial priorities, and that compromise has now become the defining liability of her career. Yet the attacks also raise questions about political accountability and legislative reality. Collins, like all senators, casts votes based on the information available at the time, and Kavanaugh's confirmation hearings did include repeated statements about precedent and stare decisis. Critics argue she was naive or willfully blind, while supporters counter that she acted in good faith on assurances that proved unreliable. The deeper issue is whether voters should punish a senator for a judicial outcome that few — including most legal experts and even many pro-choice advocates — predicted would fully overturn Roe at the time of the confirmation vote. The Maine race also highlights a broader tension in American politics: single-issue voting versus comprehensive legislative records. Collins has broken with her party on several high-profile issues, including same-sex marriage, the Affordable Care Act's preservation, and impeachment votes. She has also voted to codify abortion rights in the past, and she sponsored the Women's Health Protection Act in 2022 — though she opposed the version that ultimately failed in the Senate, citing concerns about conscience protections and late-term restrictions. Her nuanced position may appeal to moderate voters but frustrates activists on both sides who demand ideological purity. The effectiveness of the Kavanaugh-focused strategy will ultimately depend on whether Maine voters view this as a betrayal of trust or as a reasonable judgment call that aged poorly. Polling suggests the issue resonates with suburban women and younger voters, but Collins's personal approval ratings have remained relatively resilient in a state known for ticket-splitting. The ads from Troy Jackson and allied groups are attempting to convert a judicial vote into a character referendum — a strategy that has worked against other Republicans in the post-Dobbs era, but Collins's unique brand of moderate Republicanism may prove more resistant to that framing. Regardless of the outcome, this race serves as a case study in how Supreme Court confirmations have become proxy battles for the culture wars, with consequences that extend far beyond the courtroom. The Kavanaugh vote was always about more than one justice; it was about the direction of the Court for a generation. Collins's attempt to have it both ways — to support the nominee while claiming to protect Roe — has left her exposed to the very criticism she tried to preempt, and the 2024 election will test whether Maine voters accept her explanation or hold her accountable for the outcome.