Even as redistricting fights raged across the Deep South, Tuesday morning, all eyes turned to the Missouri Supreme Court. Voters in the Show Me State had waged a grassroots campaign to stop the Republican-controlled legislature from gerrymandering the state's congressional map — a move designed to deprive Black voters and Democrats of a seat in Kansas City.

The Court heard oral arguments in three cases seeking to block, at least temporarily, the GOP's redistricting efforts. The hearings lasted an hour and a half and produced few fireworks — only two questions from a single justice, and only in one of the cases.

Less than six hours later, the Court had issued two written decisions covering all three cases — one running 37 pages, the other 17. Each cited dozens of cases and legal authorities. More than a dozen footnotes detailed the legal analysis. The state prevailed unanimously in both.

The speed with which these opinions were released — combined with the near-total silence from the bench during argument — raises serious questions about the process that produced this outcome.

It is possible that the seven justices of the Missouri Supreme Court worked with remarkable efficiency — dividing drafting duties, editing and signing off on final opinions in record time. But experience with multi-member appellate courts makes this explanation difficult to accept.

There is a reason U.S. Supreme Court decisions typically take weeks or months to be released. Drafting complex legal opinions takes time. The editing process alone can add days. Incorporating the views of multiple justices delays things further.

It is one thing for an appellate court to reach a fast conclusion. It is another to produce two full opinions — totaling 54 pages and dozens of citations — in a matter of hours.

The most obvious explanation is also the most likely: the justices had already decided the outcome before the hearings took place. They had written their decision before the argument.

The lawyers on each side were, without knowing it, largely engaged in theater. Nothing they said would have changed a result that was already written.

That would explain why only one justice asked any questions at all. The lawyers still had to perform their roles. The justices, it seems, did not.

The Missouri Supreme Court's decisions come on the heels of a strikingly similar episode at the U.S. Supreme Court.

At 5:38 p.m. on Monday, the U.S. Supreme Court issued a shadow docket ruling allowing Alabama to redraw its congressional maps in a way that critics say dilutes Black voting power. That was a mere 38 minutes after the opposing parties filed their response briefs.

As Kyle Whitmore, an opinion writer for AL.com, put it, "We're to believe, nine people sat with 107 pages, read every sentence attentively, weighing the arguments of each against Alabama's motion, reached a consensus among six of the nine justices, issued an order and a dissent."

All of this in a mere 38 minutes.

The ABA Model Code of Judicial Conduct instructs judges to "accord to every person who has a legal interest in a proceeding, or that person's lawyer, the right to be heard according to law." Note that this is not merely the right to speak at a hearing — it is the right to be heard.

That distinction matters. Being heard means having one's arguments considered, engaged with, and reflected in a judgment that inspires confidence — not just in its legal correctness, but in the fairness of the process itself.

A separate provision of the same Code instructs judges to "act at all times in a manner that promotes public confidence in the independence, integrity, and impartiality" of the judiciary.

The justices on both courts will surely sidestep any presumption of wrongdoing. I am sure the justices in Missouri would say that their opinion was a draft and their conclusions were tentative. They would undoubtedly say that they were open to changing their minds based on the arguments made by counsel.

Likewise, the Supreme Court conservatives would point to the fact that they simply issued a short order and that they had independently researched the issues before the final papers were filed.

The problem is that the level of cynicism aimed at the courts is already high and much of it is well earned. The judicial system functions only when litigants — and the public — believe they are receiving a fair hearing. That means more than showing up or permitting briefs to be filed.

Courts derive their authority from public trust. In recent weeks, even years, that trust has eroded — not only because of specific rulings, but because of the way cases have been handled.

It is no secret that our democratic institutions are under pressure from every direction. Many of us counted on the Courts to be the last line of defense — the one institution insulated from Donald Trump's attacks and the partisan warfare he has unleashed.

Yet, increasingly, courts themselves are beginning to reflect the same problem, seemingly siding reflexively with their preferred political party. This week’s decisions made that clear.

Courts no longer feel the need to even pretend to engage with arguments on the other side. The public, apparently, is not owed that dignity. As long as Donald Trump is happy, the conservative justices have done their job.

If we are to weather this storm and democracy is to survive, the courts will need to do better. At a minimum, that requires giving parties a meaningful opportunity to be heard and rendering justice that is — and appears to be — impartial.