Most folks think of politics in terms of, say, the push and pull between the governor and Legislature, or the mayor and council.

That's a big part of it. But another "political" stage that shapes the public fabric is found in our courtrooms, particularly in the state Supreme Court.

That point was driven home last week when the court took up the terribly difficult case of Tayshea Aiwohi, convicted of manslaughter four years ago after her newborn son died of complications related to the crystal methamphetamine Aiwohi smoked in the final days of her pregnancy.

This case asks whether the state has the right to prosecute someone for acts that harmed a fetus, which — at least under state law — is not a "person."

The prosecution argued, successfully at trial, that once Aiwohi's son was born, he was a person, and thus the acts she undertook that led to his death were worthy of prosecution.

The tricky issue facing the Supreme Court: If it upholds the conviction, it will sanction prosecution of mothers-to-be for potentially any action that leads to the death (or even harm) of their child.

It is important to remember: Aiwohi was prosecuted not for smoking crystal meth, but for causing harm that led to the death of her newborn son. As Justice Steven Levinson asked, might this not also apply to mothers who smoke, drink excessively or engage in other potentially harmful activities?

Or, as Aiwohi's attorney argued: Should we have a legal regime in which someone who recklessly allows her child to be stillborn or aborted walks free, while those who see their children die after birth face criminal punishment?

No matter which way the court rules, it will be setting basic social policy for our state. And it won't be the first time.

Going back to the days when William S. Richardson was chief justice, the state Supreme Court has often taken on the role of policymaker for the state, in some eyes the classic definition of an "activist" court.

The Richardson court set basic principles about public access to shorelines, and sought to redefine ownership of water rights in the context of Hawaiian tradition. This recognition of aboriginal rights and practices predated the embedding of such rights in the Constitution of 1978. Later courts expanded on this public-access doctrine and offered landmark rulings on issues ranging from pornography to the right of same-sex couples to marry.

Conservatives argue that the court has too often been out of step with public sentiment on these fundamental matters. But what is interesting is that the Hawai'i court has over the years clearly thought less about public sentiment than what it sees is the correct interpretation of the Constitution in light of social justice.

In the Aiwohi case, the goal of social justice will be measured against what are, literally, matters of life and death.

Jerry Burris is The Advertiser's editorial page editor.

Reach Jerry Burris at jburris@honoluluadvertiser.com.