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When Courts Change Their Minds

photograph of law books in a library

In late June the Supreme Court of the United States released a bevy of opinions. Most prominent perhaps is the 5-4 decision in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health in which the court overturned the famous 1973 Roe v. Wade decision. The court also, in Kennedy v. Bremerton, has done away with the long used “Lemon test” concerning the separation of church and state.

Beyond questions of whether the decisions are ethically correct, these rulings are notable because they go against established precedent. In legal systems like the United States, courts generally adhere to the doctrine of stare decisis or “to stand by things decided.” The Supreme Court has previously ruled – in both Roe v. Wade and Planned Parenthood v. Casey – that there exists an implicit constitutional right to abortion. Changing its mind is then unusual, although hardly unique to the current court. The 1954 Brown v. Board of Education is famously seen to have overturned the “separate but equal” doctrine the court had previously held in Plessy v. Ferguson. (Although, technically, the Brown ruling is more narrow, only contending that separate but equal does not apply in public schools.) Evan Butts has previously discussed some of the practicalities of overturning precedent for The Prindle Post.

Recent additions to the Supreme Court, such as Justices Brett Kavanaugh and Neil Gorsuch, are being criticized for implying (misleadingly) they would stick with precedent on rulings like Roe v. Wade.

But why should the Court be bound by past opinion at all? Imagine a scientist claiming that we should stick with Newtonian physics and not jump ship to general relativity because Newtonian physics is an established precedent – even though they agree Newtonianism is incorrect.

This would be preposterous. And yet stare decisis is often understood to imply such a burden, that, as Justice Brandeis wrote in 1932 “in most matters it is more important that the applicable rule of law be settled than it be settled right.”

Following precedent in cases where the rightness of the initial ruling is not in question is straightforward – this is nothing more than a demand for courts to interpret the law correctly. Precedent as such is superfluous here, as consistency is being ensured purely by the court deciding correctly in each case. The doctrine of stare decisis only achieves importance when it comes to ambiguous or even wrongly decided cases, and whether they should nonetheless maintain some hold over future judicial decisions.

As Justice Brandeis suggested, defenders of stare decisis justify it by pointing to its role in settling matters of law – that is, making law fair, consistent, and predictable, as opposed to mercurial.

The claim is that absent this general principle of stability, the law could change drastically with the simple turnover of judges. More practically, precedent also provides courts the legal tools to decide cases efficiently.

The value of having settled law is especially clear in cases like Obergefell v. Hodges (2015) which enshrined a constitutional right to the recognition of same-sex marriages. Agree or disagree ethically, it is clear same-sex couples can and have built their lives differently knowing that they have a right to marriage recognition. Likewise, agree or disagree ethically with abortion, confidence they have control of whether to go through with a pregnancy affects how women live their lives. These are referred to as reliance interests.

Notably, these defenses of precedent contain the seeds of their own limitation as ultimately the doctrine of stare decisis is justified on the basis of being a social good. Cases of pernicious and dubiously-decided law are weighed against the value of the law being settled. Justice Brandeis made a further point, distinguishing the weight of precedent in statutory law (made by the legislature) which can easily be overturned by later legislation, from precedent in matters of constitutional interpretation. According to Brandeis, precedent matters less when there are fewer forms of redress.

Overall, few if any defend an imperative to follow precedent for all cases – at least when it comes to rulings being made by a court of equal or lesser authority. Precedents can and do get overturned. That lower courts should follow upper courts can provide an alternative defense of following precedent even in wrongly decided cases (sometimes called vertical as opposed to horizontal precedent).

In the 2018 5-4 decision Janus v. AFSCME, the majority opinion authored by Justice Samuel Alito indicated that the current Supreme Court is especially open to revisiting previously decided matters when it believes they were wrongly decided. Justice Clarence Thomas has claimed, most recently in his concurring opinion in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, that the Court should correct “demonstrably erroneous” rulings.

Expanding Thomas’s point, one could argue that the Supreme Court should have no special obligation to consider the social value of precedent and settled law at all, and simply always make the legally correct decision.

The chief challenge with this line of argument is on what basis should a case be considered “demonstrably erroneous”? Certainly, the current Supreme Court does not have consensus that the legal reasoning of Roe v. Wade and Planned Parenthood v. Casey was wrong. (Brown v. Board of Education incidentally was a unanimous decision.) Absent strong evidence, e.g., a unified court, that a decision was made wrongly on legal grounds, the “demonstrably erroneous” standard of overturning precedent can collapse into “I think this decision was decided wrongly, and therefore I am justified in overruling it.” This reintroduces the dependence on the idiosyncrasies of specific justices that a principle like stare decisis is supposed to help limit.

Law is complex and so is legal interpretation – we should expect obviously incorrect decisions to be the exception rather than the rule. In light of this, one approach to stare decisis would be to acknowledge precedent should not be binding, but that the force of its motivating reasons such as consistency and stability of law apply especially strongly in cases where legal correctness or the proper interpretive framework is under dispute. Nonetheless, the current Supreme Court has indicated a more revisionary stance. It will become clear over the next few years how this plays out with the broader legal understanding of stare decisis in the United States.

Why Misleading Is Wrong (but Isn’t Perjury)

photograph of Kavanaugh being sworn in with hand on Bible

In the wake of the Supreme Court’s recent ruling in Dobbs v. Jackson (where the Court overturned national legal protections to abortion rights codified by 1973’s Roe v. Wade), several justices have faced heavy criticism for comments they made during their confirmation hearings about Roe and stare decisis (the legal practice of ruling on cases according to established precedent).

According to critics, multiple justices lied during their job interviews about their commitments and principles, not only misleading the politicians who supported them, but theoretically making them liable to impeachment.

As talk show host Stephen Colbert put it, “if these folks believe that Roe v. Wade was so egregiously decided, why didn’t they tell the senators that during their confirmation hearings?”

There are at least two ways to answer Colbert’s question and, importantly, neither of them entail that any of the justices lied under oath — but that’s not to say that Gorsuch, Kavanaugh, or others didn’t speak immorally nevertheless. Consider how someone can manipulate or mislead another by carefully speaking in a way that is not technically untruthful, using insinuations, suggestions, and even silence to push their audience into believing something: in so doing, the speaker is unethically violating conventional expectations about trust and good-faith communication, even if they never speak a falsehood.

Indeed, “telling a lie” and “misleading an audience” are substantively different and although both speech-acts are unethical, only the former is clearly illegal while giving sworn testimony. But whether justices were carefully following the “Ginsburg rule” during their hearings (that requires a judicial candidate to give “no hints, no previews, no forecasts” of their potential rulings) or whether they were shrewdly avoiding a clear answer that might sour their chances of confirmation, it’s not clear that any of them lied to Congress.

In order to actually tell a lie, someone must:

1. Know the truth,
2. Assert the opposite of the truth,
3. Act with the intention of getting their audience to believe the opposite of the truth.

Suppose that Bill tells Calvin that their automatic garage door opens because a guy lives in the attic to operate its movement. This claim is not true, but if Bill genuinely believes it (violating Condition #1), then he hasn’t lied — he’s simply incorrect. Similarly, if Bill violates Condition #2 and phrases the speech act as a genuine question (“Do you think that someone lives in the attic?”), then he hasn’t lied either. And, crucially, if Bill is just making a joke or is otherwise speaking ironically (and doesn’t actually mean for Calvin to form a belief in an attic-dwelling door-opener), then he is violating Condition #3 and has also not explicitly told a lie.

But suppose that Bill simply implies that someone lives in the attic and misleads Calvin to form such a false belief — maybe Calvin asks Bill if such a person exists and Bill responds with “It is metaphysically possible for such a person to live in our attic.” This response isn’t technically false (because, although it is wildly unlikely, it is possible), so Bill hasn’t technically lied. Granted, Calvin would have to be exceedingly gullible to be misled by Bill in this way, but Bill could be guilty of trying to mislead Calvin nonetheless.

As MIT philosophy professor Sam Berstler explains in a recent paper, both liars and misleaders violate social conventions about the trustworthiness of speakers in conversations (where we typically assume that our interlocutor is acting in good faith), but only the former also violates expectations about truthfulness.

Put differently, liars fulfill conditions (1), (2), and (3); misleaders fulfill only conditions (1) and (3).

And, crucially for the present conversation, the legal definition of perjury requires that someone fulfill (2).

So, what did the SCOTUS justices actually say about Roe before being confirmed to the bench? Speaking in 2017, Neil Gorsuch repeatedly referred to the precedent set by Roe, calling precedent the “anchor of law” that functions as “the starting place for a judge”; when pressed about whether or not he accepted that a fetus is not protected by the 14th Amendment, Gorsuch replied “that is the law of the land. I accept the law of the land.” The following year, Brett Kavanaugh infamously told Senator Susan Collins in a private conversation that he considered Roesettled law,” but in his sworn testimony he again referred to it as “a precedent of the Supreme Court, entitled the respect under principles of stare decisis” and, like Gorsuch, repeated that “the Supreme Court has recognized the right to abortion since the 1973 Roe v. Wade case. It has reaffirmed it many times.”

This is clearly true: prior to June 2022, SCOTUS had indeed repeatedly looked to Roe’s precedent as the law of the land — but SCOTUS is also empowered to overrule precedent: as Gorsuch said, it is only the starting place for a judge.

Which means that Gorsuch and Kavanaugh’s sworn testimony (as well as that of the other four justices who overturned Roe) is fully compatible with the present Court overturning that precedent: it was the law of the land during their confirmation hearings, but now it is not.

Put differently: because no Supreme Court justice explicitly asserted that “I will not ever vote to overturn Roe,” none of their speech acts fulfill Condition #2 and so qualify as neither lies nor perjury.

However, to reiterate, this does not mean that the justices are above reproach here (despite what some pundits have suggested): misleading your audience — as Gorsuch and Kavanaugh (and others) apparently did by giving well-crafted, technically-not-perjuring responses that still prompted senators to form false beliefs about their later intentions — is unethical in a host of ways. In particular, being misleading violates expectations about your trustworthiness and integrity: this is something close to lying, even though it is not illegal. A key difference, however, is that your audience also bears some responsibility for their naivety, ignorance, or lack of epistemic diligence that allowed them to be duped (something particularly damaging to the credibility of the justices’ audiences, given that U.S. senators should be familiar with the stereotypical double-speak of lawyers and politicians — to say nothing of the other evidence available prior to the confirmation votes).

But there’s little formal recourse for shamefulness.

Ponderous Chains; or, How the Supreme Court Escapes Precedent

photograph of statue on the steps to the US Supreme Court

Like Jacob Marley, the Supreme Court of the United States wears the chains it formed in life; unlike Jacob Marley, the Supreme Court is not always resigned to be strictly bound by these chains. This is a simile. It is also in the form of a fact-to-fact comparison law students are taught to write in their first year. Such legal similes are a devious device by which the Court slips its ponderous chains — but only in its subtler moments. A court will avoid following a rule while leaving it in place by arguing that it doesn’t apply in a particular case — by “distinguishing” a past binding case from one under consideration. At other times the Court casts-off one of its coils altogether like Dorothy Parker’s apocryphal book. It is this less subtle maneuver that commentators worry about when the make-up of the court radically changes, as it has over the last four years. Now with President Donald Trump poised to name a third justice to the Court, after Neil Gorsuch (replacing Antonin Scalia) and Brett Kavaunagh (replacing Anthony Kennedy), the Court is changing more at one time than it has since the presidency of Franklin D. Roosevelt.

The Supreme Court of the United States (“SCOTUS”) has nine justices. That number is not fixed anywhere as a matter of law, but is how many seats there have been since 1869. That makes 5 to 4 four the ratio for majority opinion. Why does that matter? All courts in the US operate on the basis of a principle called stare decisis, which is Latin for “stand by what is decided.” This principle creates a system of judicial precedents that oblige “lower” courts to rule in a manner consistent with “higher” courts, and creates a strong presumption that a given court will decide in a manner with its own past decisions. For example, decisions of the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania bind the intermediate appeal courts of that state, as well as all of the state trial courts. The decisions of the 3rd Circuit Court of Appeals bind the Federal District Courts of Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Delaware, and the Virgin Islands. And of course the decisions of the SCOTUS bind all other courts: it is the “highest court in the land,” and therefore all other courts are lower with respect to it.

A majority opinion is required for a decision to be binding. Or, more precisely, a single rationale (implicitly) approved by at least five justices is required to bind lower courts. This rule, the “Marks Rule,” was promulgated in Marks v. United States, where the court was primarily concerned with deciding due process issues about the retroactive effect of binding decisions made while other cases are in the process of adjudication. If there is no common rule or rationale embodied by the collective opinions of the justices, then their opinions are merely persuasive rather than binding. When the SCOTUS does issue a majority opinion, in addition to binding lower courts, it also creates a precedent that it will generally hold itself to. Reading a SCOTUS opinion, you will see the justices often refer to past Court decisions as reasons for their decision — sometimes with open distaste. For example, in Grable & Sons Metal Products v. Darue Engineering & Manufacturing, Justice Clarence Thomas invited an opportunity to overrule Court precedent concerning federal court jurisdiction in his opinion concurring with an unanimous court. That is, in the same breath he indicated both “this is the rule” and “I would like to obliterate this rule.” Recently, Thomas also indicated that he would entertain cases aimed at overturning the qualified immunity rule.

Why would a Justice or the Court invite the opportunity to hear cases in order to overturn precedent rather than simply doing it? No court can just issue any decision on any matter it wants to apropos of nothing. There are complicated matters concerning which court (“venue“) can hear which claims (“subject matter jurisdiction“) over which people (“personal jurisdiction“), all of which haunt the sleep of law students. Further, courts usually cannot decide any matters that are not explicitly raised by parties to a legal proceeding: they cannot issue rulings on their own initiative, or “sua sponte.” Finally, the supreme courts of the various states and the United States itself are not generally obliged to hear any particular case. Instead these courts exercise their discretion, guided by their own procedural rules, when determining what cases to hear.

Now the anxiety of liberal Court-watchers becomes clear. With Amy Coney Barrett’s confirmation to the seat made empty by Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg’s death, the balance of the Court would shift to a clear conservative majority. The conservative bench would comprise Justices Barrett, Kavanaugh, Gorsuch, Alito, Thomas, and Chief Justice Roberts, while the liberal bench would have only Justices Sotamayor, Kagan, and Breyer. In light of this composition, people eager to overturn decisions in disfavor with conservatives (for example, Roe v. Wade) would attempt to obtain review for as many cases that could present an opportunity for the Court to overturn past precedent. Conservative members of the Court might even encourage that in their opinions on related matters. There would then be a new precedent, binding on all lower courts, until a time when a later Court with a different composition might decide to change its mind again. However, as Justices serve until they die, retire, or are removed pursuant to impeachment, it takes a long time for the composition of the court to evolve “naturally.”

In light of the Republicans blocking Obama nominee Merrick Garland during an presidential election year, and their subsequent rush to appoint Amy Barrett in the last few weeks prior to a presidential election, many urge an “artificial” alteration of the Court’s composition. The alternative, increasing the number of seats on the court (i.e., “court packing“), was openly discussed by Democratic presidential candidates Pete Buttgieg, Amy Klobuchar, Cory Booker, and current Democratic Vice-Presidential candidate Kamala Harris. However, that option requires Congressional cooperation and popular support and is likely to create pushback. In all likelihood, Democrats will have to wait a long time to appoint a new Justice to the court, even if Joe Biden wins the 2020 election for President of the United States.

Does a Post-COVID World Change the Plan for Court-Packing?

"Equal Justice Under Law" Supreme Court facade

In recent weeks the United States Supreme Court has made several landmark decisions that have surprised many legal observers. Recent rulings on immigration, LGBTQ rights, and abortion highlighted the importance of Chief Justice John Roberts as a potential swing vote, tempering the conservatism of the Court. Recent headlines highlight this development: “John Roberts Shatters Expectations for the Supreme Court,” and “Chief Justice Roberts Steers High Court to a Surprising Term.” I imagine that the surprise many seem to have is owing to the expectation that with the appointments to the Court over the last four years, the Court would take a far more conservative approach. If Joe Biden wins in November (and if the Democrats gain control of the Senate) the matter of whether to “pack” the Court will become relevant again, but in light of recent events, would this be appropriate?

The debate over court-packing is not necessarily a new one. During the Depression, several New Deal provisions, like the National Recovery Act, were struck down. With five aging conservative justices to deal with, FDR proposed to expand the Court to appoint a new justice for every sitting justice older than 70 and who had served for 10 years. Had that proposal been carried out, six new justices would have been added to the Court. The move attracted controversy, but in the end one of the justices who opposed the New Deal retired a few months later and Roosevelt was able to appoint his own justice and shift the balance of the court.

It is important to note that nothing in the Constitution mandates that there be 9 justices on the court, and recently there have been calls to “pack” the Court with more liberal justices in order to shift the balance yet again. These calls follow the wins of Presidents George W. Bush and Donald Trump, both of whom became president despite losing the popular vote and who managed to appoint four justices between them (including Roberts himself as Chief Justice). Had the presidency been given to Al Gore (possibly assuming re-election in 2004) and Hillary Clinton, those three to four justices would have been able to tilt the Court heavily to the left. It is worth noting that Republicans have only won the popular vote of a presidential election once in the last 28 years. There is also the matter of Merrick Garland. Garland was nominated by Obama following the vacancy created by the death of Antonin Scalia. Had he been confirmed, the Court would also have shifted leftward. But Republicans refused to hold a hearing or vote, and after Trump became president in 2016, the vacancy was filled by Neil Gorsuch instead.

If Biden and the Democrats win in November and retake the Senate and the White House, the (now) lack of a filibuster on such votes could allow for more justices to be appointed. But with Roberts’ tendency to be a swing vote, tempering the more conservative voices on the Court, why would packing be needed? After only a few recent decisions, assertions like “John Roberts is Just Who the Supreme Court Needed”, that Roberts is “steering the court on a middle course,” that Roberts is “leading from the center” or that the Roberts Court defies partisanship have been made, and if it were true then the case for packing the Court would be undermined. Those who make such claims suggest that Roberts is trying to protect the integrity of the court from being seen as too partisan.

However, there is good reason to be cautious about these claims. As lawyer Tom Goldstein told NBC News, “The chief justice is more of an incrementalist than a swing justice…He is moving the law to the right, but slowly. And the liberal justices are willing to go along with him, to minimize the damage.” The LA Times reports that while trying to demonstrate that the Court is not in Trump’s pocket, “they quite often hand down ideological cases that go his way.” Indeed, in other cases, such as on the matter of voting rights, Roberts supported the conservative position. In other words, the evidence for the notion that the Court is now balanced or nonpartisan may be more anecdotal than conclusive. Given that these recent swing votes have taken place during an election year, it may be that Roberts is trying to prevent public resentment which might lead to court-packing. While political participation is generally low, issues concerning the makeup of the Supreme Court can be a significant motivator for voters.

Despite recent rulings, there are more arguments to be made for and against packing that are poignant during the current crises taking place in America. Courts are now ruling on the legality of COVID-19 orders, and this may be the most litigious election ever, setting countless precedents regarding voting by mail and absentee ballots. The Supreme Court itself ruled on cases in Texas and Alabama which have made it more difficult for people to vote by absentee, meaning that voters will have to risk infection if they wish to cast their ballots. The rulings that could be made following COVID-19 could have massive social, ethical, economical, and legal consequences. Climate change may require massive shifts in state intervention that conservative jurists regard as unconstitutional. In fact, hostility to voting rights are one of the reasons made for court packing. But court-packing may also be a useful threat to either gain voluntary compliance from the court on key issues or spur action to depoliticize the judiciary.

On the other hand, the arguments against packing tend to focus on the worst-case scenario where all the Court’s credibility is lost. With this in mind, certain proposals, like Pete Buttigieg’s, provide for the appointment of both conservative and liberal justices. But, as yet, there is no hard evidence to suggest that court-packing would work for or against public respect for the Court.

Former Obama White House Counsel under Barack Obama Bob Bauer has argued that attempts to pack the Court are ill-considered. He notes, “It seems that Trump’s opposition would do better to distinguish its reform politics from anything resembling the approach of this president, which seeks to undermine institutions and associated norms to engineer his preferred outcomes.” Institutional reform can be done in a way that is “bona fide” or in a way that will “merely result in additional or perhaps irreparable institutional damage and political fallout.” Bauer is clear to distinguish between institutions and outcomes, noting that court-packing secures chances of winning cases but does not strengthen the institution or our trust in it. In essence, it may delegitimize the Court, however, there is no reason to think that evaluation of an institution and evaluation of its outcomes are distinct endeavors. Certainly, some outcomes have undermined the legitimacy of the institution.

But this distinction between the Court as independent body or the Court as political tool requires further explanation and justification. Otherwise, the definition being adopted is that “bona fide institutional reform” merely excludes consideration of desired political ends for arbitrary reasons. On the other hand, while potentially useful even as a potential threat, if there is going to be a plan for packing, it also cannot be arbitrary. That plan must come from a particular vision of the purpose and function of the Court.

Gorsuch, Textualism, and The Magic Lamp

Detail of the SCOTUS building that reads "equal justice under law"

If you’re wondering how a conservative justice could have sided with the liberal side of the Supreme Court and rule that the 1964 Civil Rights Act protects homosexuals and transgender persons from workplace discrimination, the best analogy to think of is when a genie from a magic lamp interprets your words so literally that you get something completely opposite of what you want. 

Neil Gorsuch, like his predecessor Antonin Scalia, is an avowed textualist–someone who thinks that we ought to interpret federal laws based on what they literally seem to say and what those literal statements logically entail. They disavow the idea that we should look to what authors of the law intended (or would have done had they foreseen the consequences of the law they’ve written). They are staunchly opposed to the tendency toward judicial activism or legislating from the bench. Instead, they are adamant that the courts should not be engines of social change, and believe that this temperance is necessary to preserve our system of checks and balances. Given the fact that judges aren’t directly accountable to the people, they believe that if the law needs to change, the legislature should be the body to enact that change. The duty of a judge, then, is simply to ensure that the laws are faithfully discharged in a manner consistent to the way they were enacted.

In this case, the law prohibits discrimination (even in part) based on sex. And in 1964, “sex” was defined in terms of one’s biological makeup at birth. So how does a textualist look at a law from 1964, which defined “sex” in terms of biology, and find a law that protects people based on their sexual orientation or gender identity? 

I asked myself the exact same question, so I looked at Gorsuch’s opinion in Bostock v. Clayton County, GA, and the answer lies in this sentence: “Because discrimination on the basis of homosexuality or transgender status requires an employee to intentionally treat individual employees differently because of their sex, an employer who intentionally penalizes an employee for being homosexual or transgender also violates Title VII.”

Think about it. You can’t label someone as homosexual without reference to their biological sex. A homosexual man is a “biological man” who is oriented toward men. A transgender woman was assigned male at birth but identifies as a woman. Because those identities essentially contain biological sex, if you disciminate against someone based on these identities, then you discriminate against them in part on the basis of their sex (as defined in 1964). 

Now, you might be thinking, “But surely when they wrote the law in 1964, if they could have seen that the consequences of that law (as written) would protect homosexuals and transgender persons, they would have written it differently.” You’re probably right. But you’re also making an argument that is decidedly not textualist.

Justices Alito and Kavanaugh disagreed with Gorsuch’s textualist logic. Alito argued that “Textualists do not read statutes as if they were messages picked up by a powerful radio telescope from a distant and utterly unknown civilization.” Kavanaugh criticized the majority for taking a “literalist” approach rather than a textualist one, suggesting that the majority chose instead to “simply split statutory phrases into their component words, look up each in a dictionary, and then mechanically put them together again.” To the dissent, the majority opinion did indeed usurp legislative power. 

In personal terms, Gorsuch’s majority opinion might not have come as a surprise: he worked as a clerk for former Justice Kennedy, who played a pivotal role in Obergefell v. Hodges, and Gorsuch’s friends have expressed that he’s supported gay friends and attended churches that welcome gay members. 

So perhaps this is why the genie analogy is a propos. Gorsuch is a textualist. He is that genie in the lamp who reads things (and their logical consequences) quite literally, and for some, these readings result in wishes that really do come true.