One year ago, I wrote on this page about the urgency, the imperative of granting New York State's judges fair compensation, and of the desperately needed relief from the rapidly rising cost of living. Judges are now in the 10th year of working without a raise, seeing that justice is done for everyone but the judges. I'd say "nothing has changed," but it has; it has gotten worse; we are in a downward spiral and have lost 30 percent of income to inflation. To keep up we would have to be paid $179,560 today instead of the current Supreme Court salary of $136,700. Even the proposed, but unrealized, figure of $165,200 would meet only the inflation adjusted level of three years ago, still leaving us 9 percent behind inflation.

Every major newspaper has denounced the outrage. From The New York Times to the Albany Times Union, editorials have agreed that the pay of judges in this state is disgraceful. It is the lowest in the nation when adjusted for cost of living. The Daily News, not known to be judge-friendly, suggested that the judges "play hardball," whatever that would be. Bar associations, good government groups have also voiced support, albeit often in a whisper, for a pay raise. Ironically, the well known Three Men in a Room (even if they are not the same three men they were few weeks ago), agree that judges deserve an increase, yet they are the ones who have continuously prevented it. Since 1998.

Last year, and again a few weeks ago, there was a new governor who acknowledged that the judiciary is grossly underpaid. Eliot Spitzer had also said he supported Chief Judge Judith S. Kaye's idea of a commission to determine the salaries of judges, legislators and certain other public officials. But March came and went, and we were the April Fools, because the first item the governor unceremoniously and swiftly dropped from his budget in the name of "reform," was judicial pay. Until that moment, it appeared to the Office of Court Administration and to all but the most cynical amongst us that it was a done deal. But the governor and the Legislature gave us nothing. The Senate introduced a judge-only bill, quickly abandoned by the Senate minority. The Assembly also drafted some language for a minute, but without retroactivity. None of the players ever invited the chief judge to the table; rather, they showed disrespect and disdain for her and for all judges of this state. But rumors maintained that it would happen in May, then July, then September, then December, definitely. But they loved us in December as they did in May. We said, "Show us the money," and instead they showed us the door. There have been the farcical baby steps, enough to keep hope alive in some courthouses, and to avoid what in any other job title would have brought on a strike, a slow down, a sick out, or a demonstration. Instead, the Senate pointed to the Assembly that pointed to the governor, with some members saying that they couldn't trust the governor to protect them on a commission, a concept that had already become quaint. While the chief judge hoped for a "Christmas miracle," and despite minute-by-minute e-mails hinting that Assembly Speaker Sheldon Silver would call the Assembly back into session before 2007 ended, and despite unreturned calls to our representatives in Albany, a raise never happened. Nor did the governor call the Legislature back into session.

To the public, the judiciary seems powerful, but we are impotent. True, in the final days of 2006, a few Supreme Court justices commenced a lawsuit against the state and the executive. But that case was soon eviscerated. Several judicial associations also filed actions. Last April, Judge Kaye toyed with the idea of commencing her own suit, but filed no action. More recently, in a widely covered development, Judge Kaye retained Bernard Nussbaum as her counsel on a proposed suit. But Mr. Nussbaum has said that filing suit was something that "we might do."

There were other things "we might do." Last April, for example, we might have appeared in Albany en masse. But despite some enthusiasm, relatively few judges had the appetite for making themselves seen or heard - "unseemly, undignified, beneath the judiciary, public service," etc. Some judges visited legislators, but got no sympathy, nor even tea. Then there was that move to flood the governor and legislators with begging, pleading, imploring faxes. But you have to wonder about the tree in the forest. Another tactic: recusal. That is, judges recusing themselves from cases involving firms that have legislators on their payrolls, since those would be the very legislators denying relief to the judges. Although a mysterious ethical decision banning recusal had a chilling effect on some judges' willingness to recuse themselves even if their conscience - the only test - told them otherwise, a few (outside New York City, where acting in unison would be unrealistic and therefore ineffective) have recused themselves to avoid the appearance of a conflict of interest. So, our lawsuits are deeply wounded, our public protestations aborted, our faxes, e-mails and telephone calls ignored.

While the volume of work increases exponentially, and the value of our income decreases daily, the political problem remains the same. The legislators won't give judges a raise until they can safely give themselves a raise, and the former governor would not sign off on a raise that includes the legislators, leaving the nonpolitical branch of government caught in the political cross-fire. And while Governor David Paterson is not in combat with the Legislature, he has been quoted in this paper on Day One, accepting that you can't have one without the other, that the judges are stuck in this unwelcome marriage to the legislators, and there will be no raise in the forthcoming budget.

In the meantime, 70 percent of the state's judges reside in New York City. In New York County, the average monthly rental for a two bedroom apartment is $3,000. Parking spaces can be $600 a month. The average purchase price of an apartment is $1 million. Some of our executive, legislative and court leaders live in Manhattan, but not on an official salary alone. Perhaps that is why they do not feel the level of our desperation and panic, as we drown in quicksand. Or maybe it just doesn't matter, because judges have no union, no voice, no justice.

Sixteen tons and what do you get? Another day older and deeper in debt.

Emily Jane Goodman is a Manhattan Supreme Court Justice.