SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES
_________________
No. 19–123
_________________
SHARONELL FULTON, et al., PETITIONERS
v. CITY OF PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA, et al.
on writ of certiorari to the united states
court of appeals for the third circuit
[June 17, 2021]
Justice Alito, with whom Justice Thomas and
Justice Gorsuch join, concurring in the judgment.
This case presents an important constitutional
question that urgently calls out for review: whether this Court’s
governing interpretation of a bedrock constitutional right, the
right to the free exercise of religion, is fundamentally wrong and
should be corrected.
In
Employment Div., Dept. of Human Resources
of Ore. v.
Smith,
494 U.S.
872 (1990), the Court abruptly pushed aside nearly 40 years of
precedent and held that the First Amendment’s Free Exercise Clause
tolerates any rule that categorically prohibits or commands
specified conduct so long as it does not target religious practice.
Even if a rule serves no important purpose and has a devastating
effect on religious freedom, the Constitution, according to
Smith, provides no protection. This severe holding is ripe
for reexamination.
I
There is no question that
Smith’s
interpretation can have startling consequences. Here are a few
examples. Suppose that the Volstead Act, which implemented the
Prohibition Amendment, had not contained an exception for
sacramental wine. See Pub. L. 66, §3, 41Stat. 308–309. The Act
would have been consistent with
Smith even though it would
have prevented the celebration of a Catholic Mass anywhere in the
United States.[
1] Or suppose
that a State, following the example of several European countries,
made it unlawful to slaughter an animal that had not first been
rendered unconscious.[
2] That
law would be fine under
Smith even though it would outlaw
kosher and halal slaughter.[
3]
Or suppose that a jurisdiction in this country, following the
recommendations of medical associations in Europe, banned the
circumcision of infants.[
4] A
San Francisco ballot initiative in 2010 proposed just
that.[
5] A categorical ban
would be allowed by
Smith even though it would prohibit an
ancient and important Jewish and Muslim practice.[
6] Or suppose that this Court or some other
court enforced a rigid rule prohibiting attorneys from wearing any
form of head covering in court. The rule would satisfy
Smith
even though it would prevent Orthodox Jewish men, Sikh men, and
many Muslim women from appearing. Many other examples could be
added.
We may hope that legislators and others with
rule- making authority will not go as far as
Smith allows,
but the present case shows that the dangers posed by
Smith
are not hypothetical. The city of Philadelphia (City) has issued an
ultimatum to an arm of the Catholic Church: Either engage in
conduct that the Church views as contrary to the traditional
Christian understanding of marriage or abandon a mission that dates
back to the earliest days of the Church—providing for the care of
orphaned and abandoned children.
Many people believe they have a religious
obligation to assist such children. Jews and Christians regard this
as a scriptural command,[
7] and
it is a mission that the Catholic Church has undertaken since
ancient times. One of the first known orphanages is said to have
been founded by St. Basil the Great in the fourth century,[
8] and for centuries, the care of
orphaned and abandoned children was carried out by religious
orders.[
9]
In the New World, religious groups continued to
take the lead. The first known orphanage in what is now the United
States was founded by an order of Catholic nuns in New Orleans
around 1729.[
10] In the
1730s, the first two orphanages in what became the United States at
the founding were established in Georgia by Lutherans and by Rev.
George Whitefield, a leader in the “First Great
Awakening.”[
11] In the late
18th and early 19th centuries, Protestants and Catholics
established orphanages in major cities. One of the first orphanages
in Philadelphia was founded by a Catholic priest in 1798.[
12] The Jewish Society for the
Relief of Orphans and Children of Indigent Parents began its work
in Charleston in 1801.[
13]
During the latter part of the 19th century and
continuing into the 20th century, the care of children was shifted
from orphanages to foster families,[
14] but for many years, state and local government
participation in this field was quite limited. As one of
Philadelphia’s
amici puts it, “[i]nto the early twentieth
century, the care of orphaned and abandoned children in the United
States remained largely in the hands of private charitable and
religious organizations.”[
15] In later years, an influx of federal money[
16] spurred States and local
governments to take a more active role, and today many governments
administer what is essentially a licensing system. As is typical in
other jurisdictions, no private charitable group may recruit, vet,
or support foster parents in Philadelphia without the City’s
approval.
Whether with or without government
participation, Catholic foster care agencies in Philadelphia and
other cities have a long record of finding homes for children whose
parents are unable or unwilling to care for them. Over the years,
they have helped thousands of foster children and parents, and they
take special pride in finding homes for children who are hard to
place, including older children and those with special
needs.[
17]
Recently, however, the City has barred Catholic
Social Services (CSS) from continuing this work. Because the
Catholic Church continues to believe that marriage is a bond
between one man and one woman, CSS will not vet same-sex couples.
As far as the record reflects, no same-sex couple has ever
approached CSS, but if that were to occur, CSS would simply refer
the couple to another agency that is happy to provide that
service—and there are at least 27 such agencies in Philadelphia.
App. 171; App. to Pet. for Cert. 137a; see also
id., at
286a. Thus, not only is there no evidence that CSS’s policy has
ever interfered in the slightest with the efforts of a same-sex
couple to care for a foster child, there is no reason to fear that
it would ever have that effect.
None of that mattered to Philadelphia. When a
newspaper publicized CSS’s policy, the City barred CSS from
continuing its foster care work. Remarkably, the City took this
step even though it threatens the welfare of children awaiting
placement in foster homes. There is an acute shortage of foster
parents, both in Philadelphia and in the country at large.[
18] By ousting CSS, the City
eliminated one of its major sources of foster homes. And that’s not
all. The City went so far as to prohibit the placement of any
children in homes that CSS had previously vetted and approved.
Exemplary foster parents like petitioners Sharonell Fulton and Toni
Lynn Simms-Busch are blocked from providing loving homes for
children they were eager to help.[
19] The City apparently prefers to risk leaving children
without foster parents than to allow CSS to follow its religiously
dictated policy, which threatens no tangible harm.
CSS broadly implies that the fundamental
objective of City officials is to force the Philadelphia
Archdiocese to change its position on marriage. Among other things,
they point to statements by a City official deriding the
Archdiocese’s position as out of step with Pope Francis’s teaching
and 21st century moral views.[
20] But whether or not this is the City’s real objective,
there can be no doubt that Philadelphia’s ultimatum restricts CSS’s
ability to do what it believes the Catholic faith requires.
Philadelphia argues that its stance is allowed
by
Smith because, it claims, a City policy categorically
prohibits foster care agencies from discriminating against same-sex
couples. Bound by
Smith, the lower courts accepted this
argument, 320 F. Supp. 3d 661, 682–684 (ED Pa. 2018), 922 F.3d
140, 156–159 (CA3 2019), and we then granted certiorari, 589
U. S. ___ (2020). One of the questions that we accepted for
review is “[w]hether
Employment Division v.
Smith
should be revisited.” We should confront that question.
Regrettably, the Court declines to do so.
Instead, it reverses based on what appears to be a superfluous (and
likely to be short-lived) feature of the City’s standard annual
contract with foster care agencies.
Smith’s holding about
categorical rules does not apply if a rule permits individualized
exemptions, 494 U. S., at 884, and the majority seizes on the
presence in the City’s standard contract of language giving a City
official the power to grant exemptions.
Ante, at 7. The City
tells us that it has never granted such an exemption and has no
intention of handing one to CSS, Brief for City Respondents 36;
App. to Pet. for Cert. 168a, but the majority reverses the decision
below because the contract supposedly confers that never-used
power.
Ante, at 10, 15.
This decision might as well be written on the
dissolving paper sold in magic shops. The City has been adamant
about pressuring CSS to give in, and if the City wants to get
around today’s decision, it can simply eliminate the never-used
exemption power.[
21] If it
does that, then, voilà, today’s decision will vanish—and the
parties will be back where they started. The City will claim that
it is protected by
Smith; CSS will argue that
Smith
should be overruled; the lower courts, bound by
Smith, will
reject that argument; and CSS will file a new petition in this
Court challenging
Smith. What is the point of going around
in this circle?
Not only is the Court’s decision unlikely to
resolve the present dispute, it provides no guidance regarding
similar controversies in other jurisdictions. From 2006 to 2011,
Catholic Charities in Boston, San Francisco, Washington,
D. C., and Illinois ceased providing adoption or foster care
services after the city or state government insisted that they
serve same-sex couples. Although the precise legal grounds for
these actions are not always clear, it appears that they were based
on laws or regulations generally prohibiting discrimination on the
basis of sexual orientation.[
22] And some jurisdictions have adopted
anti-discrimination rules that expressly target adoption
services.[
23] Today’s
decision will be of no help in other cases involving the exclusion
of faith-based foster care and adoption agencies unless by some
chance the relevant laws contain the same glitch as the
Philadelphia contractual provision on which the majority’s decision
hangs. The decision will be even less significant in all the other
important religious liberty cases that are bubbling up.
We should reconsider
Smith without
further delay. The correct interpretation of the Free Exercise
Clause is a question of great importance, and
Smith’s
interpretation is hard to defend. It can’t be squared with the
ordinary meaning of the text of the Free Exercise Clause or with
the prevalent understanding of the scope of the free-exercise right
at the time of the First Amendment’s adoption. It swept aside
decades of established precedent, and it has not aged well. Its
interpretation has been undermined by subsequent scholarship on the
original meaning of the Free Exercise Clause. Contrary to what many
initially expected,
Smith has not provided a clear-cut rule
that is easy to apply, and experience has disproved the
Smith majority’s fear that retention of the Court’s prior
free-exercise jurisprudence would lead to “anarchy.” 494
U. S., at 888.
When
Smith reinterpreted the Free
Exercise Clause, four Justices—Brennan, Marshall, Blackmun, and
O’Connor—registered strong disagreement.
Id., at 891, 892
(O’Connor, J., joined in part by Brennan, Marshall, and Blackmun,
JJ., concurring in judgment);
id., at 907–908 (Blackmun, J.,
joined by Brennan and Marshall, JJ., dissenting). After joining the
Court, Justice Souter called for
Smith to be reexamined.
Church of Lukumi Babalu Aye, Inc. v.
Hialeah,
508 U.S.
520, 559 (1993) (opinion concurring in part and concurring in
judgment). So have five sitting Justices.
Kennedy v.
Bremerton School Dist., 586 U. S. ___, ___–___ (2019)
(Alito, J., joined by Thomas, Gorsuch, and Kavanaugh, JJ.,
concurring in denial of certiorari) (slip op., at 5–6);
City of
Boerne v.
Flores,
521
U.S. 507, 566 (1997) (Breyer, J., dissenting). So have some of
the country’s most distinguished scholars of the Religion Clauses.
See,
e.g., McConnell, Free Exercise Revisionism and the
Smith Decision, 57 U. Chi. L. Rev. 1109 (1990)
(McConnell, Free Exercise Revisionism); Laycock, The Supreme
Court’s Assault on Free Exercise, and the Amicus Brief That Was
Never Filed, 8 J. L. & Religion 99 (1990). On two separate
occasions, Congress, with virtual unanimity, expressed the view
that
Smith’s interpretation is contrary to our society’s
deep-rooted commitment to religious liberty. In enacting the
Religious Freedom Restoration Act of 1993, 107Stat. 1488 (codified
at 42 U. S. C. §2000bb
et seq.), and the
Religious Land Use and Institutionalized Persons Act of 2000,
114Stat. 803 (codified at 42 U. S. C. §2000cc
et seq.), Congress tried to restore the constitutional
rule in place before
Smith was handed down. Those laws,
however, do not apply to most state action, and they leave huge
gaps.
It is high time for us to take a fresh look at
what the Free Exercise Clause demands.
II
A
To fully appreciate what the Court did in
Smith, it is necessary to recall the substantial body of
precedent that it displaced. Our seminal decision on the question
of religious exemptions from generally applicable laws was
Sherbert v.
Verner,
374 U.S.
398 (1963), which had been in place for nearly four decades
when
Smith was decided. In that earlier case, Adell
Sherbert, a Seventh-day Adventist, was fired because she refused to
work on Saturday, her Sabbath Day. 374 U. S.
, at 399.
Unable to find other employment that did not require Saturday work,
she applied for unemployment compensation but was rejected because
state law disqualified claimants who “ failed, without good
cause . . . to accept available suitable work when
offered. ”
Id., at 399–401, and n. 3 (internal
quotation marks omitted). The State Supreme Court held that this
denial of benefits did not violate Sherbert’s free-exercise right,
but this Court reversed.
In an opinion authored by Justice Brennan, the
Court began by surveying the Court’s few prior cases involving
claims for religious exemptions from generally applicable laws.
Id., at 402–403. In those decisions, the Court had not
articulated a clear standard for resolving such conflicts, but as
the
Sherbert opinion accurately recounted, where claims for
religious exemptions had been rejected, “[t]he conduct or actions
[in question] invariably posed some substantial threat to public
safety, peace or order.”
Id., at 403. (As will be shown
below, this description of the earlier decisions corresponds
closely with the understanding of the scope of the free-exercise
right at the time of the First Amendment’s adoption. See
infra, at 29–36.)
After noting these earlier decisions, the Court
turned to the case at hand and concluded that the denial of
benefits imposed a substantial burden on Sherbert’s free exercise
of religion. 374 U. S., at 404. It “force[d] her to choose
between following the precepts of her religion and forfeiting
benefits, on the one hand, and abandoning one of the precepts of
her religion in order to accept work, on the other hand.”
Ibid. As a result, the Court reasoned, the decision below
could be sustained only if it was “justified by a ‘compelling state
interest.’ ”
Id., at 403, 406. The State argued that
its law was needed to prevent “the filing of fraudulent claims by
unscrupulous claimants feigning religious objections,” but Justice
Brennan’s opinion found this justification insufficient because the
State failed to show that “no alternative forms of regulation would
combat such abuses without infringing First Amendment rights.”
Id., at 407.
The test distilled from
Sherbert—that a
law that imposes a substantial burden on the exercise of religion
must be narrowly tailored to serve a compelling interest—was the
governing rule for the next 37 years. Applying that test, the Court
sometimes vindicated free-exercise claims. In
Wisconsin v.
Yoder,
406 U.S.
205, 234 (1972), for example, the Court held that a state law
requiring all students to remain in school until the age of 16
violated the free-exercise rights of Amish parents whose religion
required that children leave school after the eighth grade. The
Court acknowledged the State’s “admittedly strong interest in
compulsory education” but concluded that the State had failed to
“show with . . . particularity how [that interest] would
be adversely affected by granting an exemption to the Amish.”
Id., at 236. And in holding that the Amish were entitled to
a special exemption, the Court expressly rejected the
interpretation of the Free Exercise Clause that was later embraced
in
Smith. Indeed, the
Yoder Court stated this point
again and again: “[T]here are areas of conduct protected by the
Free Exercise Clause of the First Amendment and thus beyond the
power of the State to control,
even under regulations of general
applicability”;
“[a] regulation neutral on its face may, in
its application, nonetheless offend the constitutional requirement
for governmental neutrality if it unduly burdens the free
exercise of religion”; insisting that Amish children abide by the
compulsory attendance requirement was unconstitutional
even
though it “applie[d] uniformly to all citizens of the State and
d[id] not, on its face, discriminate against religions or a
particular religion, [and was] motivated by legitimate secular
concerns.”
Id., at 220 (emphasis added).
Other decisions also accepted free-exercise
claims under the
Sherbert test. In
Thomas v.
Review Bd. of Ind. Employment Security Div.,
450
U.S. 707, 710, 720 (1981), the Court concluded that a State
could not withhold unemployment benefits from a Jehovah’s Witness
who quit his job because he refused to do work that he viewed as
contributing to the production of military weapons. In so holding,
the Court reiterated that “ ‘[a] regulation neutral on its
face may, in its application, nonetheless offend the constitutional
requirement for governmental neutrality if it unduly burdens the
free exercise of religion.’ ”
Id., at 717 (quoting
Yoder, 406 U. S., at 220).
Subsequently, in
Hobbie v.
Unemployment Appeals Comm’n of Fla.,
480
U.S. 136, 141 (1987), the Court found that a state rule that
was “ ‘neutral and uniform in its application’ ”
nevertheless violated the Free Exercise Clause under the
Sherbert test. A similar violation was found in
Frazee v.
Illinois Dept. of Employment Security,
489 U.S.
829 (1989).
Other cases applied
Sherbert but found no
violation. In
United States v.
Lee,
455
U.S. 252, 258 (1982), the Court held that mandatory
contributions to Social Security were constitutional because they
were “indispensable to the fiscal vitality of the social security
system.” In
Gillette v.
United States,
401
U.S. 437, 462 (1971), denying conscientious-objector status to
men whose opposition to war was limited to one particular conflict
was held to be “strictly justified by substantial governmental
interests.” In still other cases, the Court found
Sherbert
inapplicable either because the challenged law did not implicate
the conduct of the individual seeking an exemption, see
Bowen v.
Roy,
476 U.S.
693, 700 (1986);
Lyng v.
Northwest Indian Cemetery
Protective Assn.,
485
U.S. 439, 450–451 (1988), or because the case arose in a
context where the government exercised broader authority over
assertions of individual rights, see
O’Lone v.
Estate of
Shabazz,
482 U.S.
342, 353 (1987) (prison);
Goldman v.
Weinberger,
475 U.S.
503, 506 (1986) (military). None of these decisions questioned
the validity of
Sherbert’s interpretation of the
free-exercise right.
B
This is where our case law stood when
Smith reached the Court. The underlying situation in
Smith was very similar to that in
Sherbert. Just as
Adell Sherbert had been denied unemployment benefits due to conduct
mandated by her religion (refraining from work on Saturday), Alfred
Smith and Galen Black were denied unemployment benefits because of
a religious practice (ingesting peyote as part of a worship service
of the Native American Church). 494 U. S., at 874. Applying
the
Sherbert test, the Oregon Supreme Court held that this
denial of benefits violated Smith’s and Black’s free-exercise
rights, and this Court granted review.[
24]
The State defended the denial of benefits under
the
Sherbert framework. It argued that it had a compelling
interest in combating the use of dangerous drugs and that
accommodating their use for religious purposes would upset its
enforcement scheme. Brief for Petitioners in
Employment Div.,
Dept. of Human Resources v.
Smith, No. 88–1213,
O. T. 1988, pp. 5–7, 12, 16. The State never suggested that
Sherbert should be overruled. See Brief for Petitioners in
No. 88–1213, at 11. Instead, the crux of its disagreement with
Smith and Black and the State Supreme Court was whether its
interest in preventing drug use could be served by a more narrowly
tailored rule that made an exception for religious use by members
of the Native American Church.
The question divided the four Justices who
objected to the
Smith majority’s rationale. Compare 494
U. S., at 905–907 (O’Connor J., concurring in judgment), with
id., at 909–919 (Blackmun, J., joined by Brennan and
Marshall, JJ., dissenting). And the
Smith majority wanted no
part of that question. Instead, without briefing or argument on
whether
Sherbert should be cast aside, the Court adopted
what it seems to have thought was a clear-cut test that would be
easy to apply: A “generally applicable and otherwise valid” rule
does not violate the Free Exercise Clause “if prohibiting the
exercise of religion . . . is not [its] object
. . . but merely the incidental effect of ” its
operation. 494 U. S., at 878. Other than cases involving rules
that target religious conduct, the
Sherbert test was held to
apply to only two narrow categories of cases: (1) those involving
the award of unemployment benefits or other schemes allowing
individualized exemptions and (2) so-called “hybrid rights” cases.
See 494 U. S., at 881–884.[
25]
To clear the way for this new regime, the
majority was willing to take liberties. Paying little attention to
the terms of the Free Exercise Clause, it was satisfied that its
interpretation represented a “permissible” reading of the text,
Smith, 494 U. S., at 878, and it did not even stop to
explain why that was so. The majority made no effort to ascertain
the original understanding of the free-exercise right, and it
limited past precedents on grounds never previously suggested.
Sherbert,
Thomas, and
Hobbie were placed in a
special category because they concerned the award of unemployment
compensation,
Smith, 494 U. S., at 883, and
Yoder was distinguished on the ground that it involved both
a free-exercise claim and a parental-rights claim,
Smith,
494 U. S., at 881. Not only did these distinctions lack
support in prior case law, the issue in
Smith itself could
easily be viewed as falling into both of these special categories.
After all, it involved claims for unemployment benefits, and
members of the Native American Church who ingest peyote as part of
a religious ceremony are surely engaging in expressive conduct that
falls within the scope of the Free Speech Clause. See,
e.g.,
Texas v.
Johnson,
491 U.S.
397, 404 (1989).
None of these obstacles stopped the
Smith
majority from adopting its new rule and displacing decades of
precedent. The majority feared that continued adherence to that
case law would “cour[t] anarchy” because it “would open the
prospect of constitutionally required religious exemptions from
civic obligations of almost every conceivable kind.” 494
U. S., at 888. The majority recognized that its new
interpretation would place small religious groups at a “relative
disadvantage,” but the majority found that preferable to the
problems it envisioned if the
Sherbert test had been
retained
. 494 U. S., at 890.
Four Justices emphatically disagreed with
Smith’s reinterpretation of the Free Exercise Clause.
Justice O’Connor wrote that this new reading “dramatically
depart[ed] from well-settled First Amendment jurisprudence” and was
“incompatible with our Nation’s fundamental commitment to
individual religious liberty.” 494 U. S., at 891 (opinion
concurring in judgment). Justices Brennan, Marshall, and Blackmun
protested that the majority had “mischaracteriz[ed]” and
“discard[ed]” the Court’s free-exercise jurisprudence on its way to
“perfunctorily dismiss[ing]” the “settled and inviolate principle”
that state laws burdening religious freedom may stand only if
“justified by a compelling interest that cannot be served by less
restrictive means.”
Id., at 907–908 (Blackmun, J., joined by
Brennan and Marshall, JJ., dissenting).
Smith’s impact was quickly felt, and
Congress was inundated with reports of the decision’s
consequences.[
26] In
response, it attempted to restore the
Sherbert test. In the
House, then-Representative Charles Schumer introduced a bill that
made a version of that test applicable to all actions taken by the
Federal Government or the States. H. R. 1308, 103d Cong., 1st
Sess. (1993). This bill, which eventually became the Religious
Freedom Restoration Act (RFRA), passed in the House without
dissent, was approved in the Senate by a vote of 97 to 3, and was
enthusiastically signed into law by President Clinton. 139 Cong.
Rec. 27239–27341 (1993) (House voice vote);
id., at 26416
(Senate vote); Remarks on Signing the Religious Freedom Restoration
Act of 1993, 29 Weekly Comp. of Pres. Doc. 2377 (1993). And when
this Court later held in
City of Boerne,
521 U.S.
507, that Congress lacked the power under the 14th Amendment to
impose these rules on the States, Congress responded by enacting
the Religious Land Use and Institutionalized Persons Act (RLUIPA)
under its spending power and its power to regulate interstate
commerce. See 114Stat. 803. Introduced in the Senate by Sen. Orrin
Hatch and cosponsored by Sen. Edward Kennedy, RLUIPA imposed the
same rules as RFRA on land use and prison regulations. S. 2869,
106th Cong., 2d Sess. (2000); 42 U. S. C. §2000cc
et
seq; 146 Cong. Rec. 16698 (2000). RLUIPA passed both Houses of
Congress without a single negative vote and, like RFRA, was signed
by President Clinton.
Id., at 16703, 16623; Statement on
Signing the Religious Land Use and Institutionalized Persons Act of
2000, 36 Weekly Comp. of Pres. Doc. 2168 (2000).
RFRA and RLUIPA have restored part of the
protection that
Smith withdrew, but they are both limited in
scope and can be weakened or repealed by Congress at any time. They
are no substitute for a proper interpretation of the Free Exercise
Clause.
III
A
That project must begin with the
constitutional text. In
Martin v.
Hunter’s Lessee, 1
Wheat. 304, 338–339 (1816), Justice Story laid down the guiding
principle: “If the text be clear and distinct, no restriction upon
its plain and obvious import ought to be admitted, unless the
inference be irresistible.” And even though we now have a thick
body of precedent regarding the meaning of most provisions of the
Constitution, our opinions continue to respect the primacy of the
Constitution’s text. See,
e.g.,
Chiafalo v.
Washington, 591 U. S. ___, ___–___ (2020) (slip op., at
9–13) (starting with the text of Art. II, §1, before considering
historical practice);
Knick v.
Township of Scott, 588
U. S. ___, ___ (2019) (slip op., at 6) (beginning analysis
with the text of the Takings Clause);
Gamble v.
United
States, 587 U. S. ___, ___–___ (2019) (slip op., at 3–4)
(starting with the text of the Fifth Amendment before turning to
history and precedent);
City of Boerne, 521 U. S., at
519 (“In assessing the breadth of §5’s enforcement power, we begin
with its text”).
Smith, however, paid shockingly little
attention to the text of the Free Exercise Clause. Instead of
examining what readers would have understood its words to mean when
adopted, the opinion merely asked whether it was “permissible” to
read the text to have the meaning that the majority favored. 494
U. S., at 878. This strange treatment of the constitutional
text cannot be justified—and is especially surprising since it
clashes so sharply with the way in which
Smith’s author,
Justice Scalia, generally treated the text of the Constitution
(and, indeed, with his entire theory of legal interpretation). As
he put it, “What I look for in the Constitution is precisely what I
look for in a statute: the original meaning of the text.” A.
Scalia, A Matter of Interpretation 38 (1997). See also
NLRB
v.
Noel Canning,
573 U.S.
513, 575–583 (2014) (Scalia, J., concurring in judgment);
Stop the Beach Renourishment, Inc. v.
Florida Dept. of
Environmental Protection,
560 U.S.
702, 722 (2010) (plurality opinion of Scalia, J.);
Maryland v.
Craig,
497 U.S.
836, 860–861 (1990) (Scalia, J., dissenting).
Justice Scalia’s opinion for the Court in
District of Columbia v.
Heller,
554 U.S.
570 (2008), is a prime example of his usual approach, and it is
a model of what a reexamination of the Free Exercise Clause should
entail. In
Heller, after observing that the “Constitution
was written to be understood by the voters,” Justice Scalia’s
opinion begins by presuming that the “words and phrases” of the
Second Amendment carry “their normal and ordinary . . .
meaning.”
Id., at 576 (internal quotation marks omitted).
The opinion then undertakes a careful examination of all the
Amendment’s key terms. It does not simply ask whether its
interpretation of the text is “permissible.”
Smith, 494
U. S., at 878.
B
Following the sound approach that the Court
took in
Heller, we should begin by considering the “normal
and ordinary” meaning of the text of the Free Exercise Clause:
“Congress shall make no law . . . prohibiting the free exercise [of
religion].” Most of these terms and phrases—“Congress,”[
27] “shall make,” “no law,”[
28] and “religion”[
29]—do not require discussion for present
purposes, and we can therefore focus on what remains: the term
“prohibiting” and the phrase “the free exercise of religion.”
Those words had essentially the same meaning in
1791 as they do today. “To prohibit” meant either “[t]o forbid” or
“to hinder.” 2 S. Johnson, A Dictionary of the English Language
(1755) (Johnson (1755)).[
30]
The term “exercise” had both a broad primary definition
(“[p]ractice” or “outward performance”) and a narrower secondary
one (an “[a]ct of divine worship whether publick or private”). 1
id.[
31] (The Court
long ago declined to give the First Amendment’s reference to
“exercise” this narrow reading. See,
e.g.,
Cantwell
v.
Connecticut, 310 U.S.
296, 303–304 (1940).) And “free,” in the sense relevant here,
meant “unrestrained.” 1 Johnson (1755).[
32]
If we put these definitions together, the
ordinary meaning of “prohibiting the free exercise of religion” was
(and still is) forbidding or hindering unrestrained religious
practices or worship. That straightforward understanding is a far
cry from the interpretation adopted in
Smith. It certainly
does not suggest a distinction between laws that are generally
applicable and laws that are targeted.
As interpreted in
Smith, the Clause is
essentially an anti-discrimination provision: It means that the
Federal Government and the States cannot restrict conduct that
constitutes a religious practice for some people unless it imposes
the same restriction on everyone else who engages in the same
conduct.
Smith made no real attempt to square that
equal-treatment interpretation with the ordinary meaning of the
Free Exercise Clause’s language, and it is hard to see how that
could be done.
The key point for present purposes is that the
text of the Free Exercise Clause gives a specific group of people
(those who wish to engage in the “exercise of religion”) the right
to do so without hindrance. The language of the Clause does not tie
this right to the treatment of persons not in this group.
The oddity of
Smith’s interpretation can
be illustrated by considering what the same sort of interpretation
would mean if applied to other provisions of the Bill of Rights.
Take the Sixth Amendment, which gives a specified group of people
(the “accused” in criminal cases) a particular right (the right to
the “Assistance of Counsel for [their] defence”). Suppose that
Congress or a state legislature adopted a law banning counsel in
all litigation, civil and criminal. Would anyone doubt that
this law would violate the Sixth Amendment rights of criminal
defendants?
Or consider the Seventh Amendment, which gives a
specified group of people (parties in most civil “Suits at common
law”) “the right of trial by jury.” Would there be any question
that a law abolishing juries in
all civil cases would
violate the rights of parties in cases that fall within the Seventh
Amendment’s scope?
Other examples involving language similar to
that in the Free Exercise Clause are easy to imagine. Suppose that
the amount of time generally allotted to complete a state bar exam
is 12 hours but that applicants with disabilities secure a consent
decree allowing them an extra hour. Suppose that the State later
adopts a rule requiring all applicants to complete the exam in 11
hours. Would anyone argue that this was consistent with the
decree?
Suppose that classic car enthusiasts secure the
passage of a state constitutional amendment exempting cars of a
certain age from annual safety inspections, but the legislature
later enacts a law requiring such inspections for all vehicles
regardless of age. Can there be any doubt that this would violate
the state constitution?
It is not necessary to belabor this point
further. What all these examples show is that
Smith’s
interpretation conflicts with the ordinary meaning of the First
Amendment’s terms.
C
Is there any way to bring about a
reconciliation? The short answer is “no.” Survey all the briefs
filed in support of respondents (they total more than 40) and three
decades of law review articles, and what will you find?
Philadelphia’s brief refers in passing to one possible argument—and
the source it cites is a law review article by one of
Smith’s leading academic critics, Professor Michael W.
McConnell. See Brief for City Respondents 49 (citing McConnell,
Free Exercise Revisionism 1115). Trying to see if there was any way
to make
Smith fit with the constitutional text, Professor
McConnell came up with this argument—but then rejected it.
McConnell
, Free Exercise Revisionism 1115–1116.
The argument goes as follows: Even if a law
prohibits conduct that constitutes an essential religious practice,
it cannot be said to “prohibit” the free exercise of religion
unless that was the lawmakers’ specific object.
This is a hair-splitting interpretation. It
certainly does not represent the “normal and ordinary” meaning of
the Free Exercise Clause’s terms. See
Heller, 554
U. S., at 576. Consider how it would play out if applied to
some of the hypothetical laws discussed at the beginning of this
opinion. A law categorically banning all wine would not “prohibit”
the celebration of a Catholic Mass? A law categorically forbidding
the slaughter of a conscious animal would not “prohibit” kosher and
halal slaughterhouses? A rule categorically banning any head
covering in a courtroom would not “prohibit” appearances by
orthodox Jewish men, Sikh men, and Muslim women who wear hijabs? It
is no wonder that
Smith’s many defenders have almost
uniformly foregone this argument.
D
Not only is it difficult to square
Smith’s interpretation with the terms of the Free Exercise
Clause, the absence of any language referring to equal treatment is
striking. If equal treatment was the objective, why didn’t Congress
say that? And since it would have been simple to cast the Free
Exercise Clause in equal-treatment terms, why would the state
legislators who voted for ratification have read the Clause that
way?
It is not as if there were no models that could
have been used. Other constitutional provisions contain
non-discrimination language. For example, Art. I, §9, cl. 6,
provides that “[n]o Preference shall be given by any Regulation of
Commerce or Revenue to the Ports of one State over those of
another.” Under Art. IV, §2, cl. 1, “[t]he Citizens of each
State shall be entitled to all Privileges and Immunities of
Citizens in the several States.” Article V provides that “no State,
without its Consent, shall be deprived of its equal Suffrage in the
Senate.” Language mandating equal treatment of one sort or another
also appeared in the religious liberty provisions of colonial
charters and state constitutions.[
33] But Congress eschewed those models. The contrast
between these readily available anti-discrimination models and the
language that appears in the First Amendment speaks volumes.
IV
A
While we presume that the words of the
Constitution carry their ordinary and normal meaning, we cannot
disregard the possibility that some of the terms in the Free
Exercise Clause had a special meaning that was well understood at
the time.
Heller, again, provides a helpful example.
Heller did not hold that the right to keep and bear arms
means that everyone has the right to keep and bear every type of
weaponry in all places and at all times. Instead, it held that the
Second Amendment protects a known right that was understood to have
defined dimensions. 554 U. S., at 626–628.
Following
Heller’s lead, we must ask
whether the Free Exercise Clause protects a right that was known at
the time of adoption to have defined dimensions. But in doing so,
we must keep in mind that there is a presumption that the words of
the Constitution are to be interpreted in accordance with their
“normal and ordinary” sense.
Id., at 576 (internal quotation
marks omitted). Anyone advocating a different reading must overcome
that presumption.
B
1
What was the free-exercise right understood to
mean when the Bill of Rights was ratified? And in particular, was
it clearly understood that the right simply required equal
treatment for religious and secular conduct? When
Smith was
decided, scholars had not devoted much attention to the original
meaning of the Free Exercise Clause, and the parties’ briefs
ignored this issue, as did the opinion of the Court. Since then,
however, the historical record has been plumbed in detail,[
34] and we are now in a good
position to examine how the free-exercise right was understood when
the First Amendment was adopted.
By that date, the right to religious liberty
already had a long, rich, and complex history in this country. What
appears to be the first “free exercise” provision was adopted in
1649. Prompted by Lord Baltimore,[
35] the Maryland Assembly enacted a provision protecting
the right of all Christians to engage in “the free exercise” of
religion.[
36] Rhode Island’s
1663 Charter extended the right to all. See Charter of Rhode Island
and Providence Plantations (1663), in Cogan 34. Early colonial
charters and agreements in Carolina, Delaware, New Jersey, New
York, and Pennsylvania also recognized the right to free
exercise,[
37] and by 1789,
every State except Connecticut had a constitutional provision
protecting religious liberty. McConnell, Origins 1455. In fact, the
Free Exercise Clause had more analogs in State Constitutions than
any other individual right. See Calabresi, Agudo, & Dore, State
Bills of Rights in 1787 and 1791: What Individual Rights Are Really
Deeply Rooted in American History and Tradition? 85 S. Cal. L. Rev.
1451, 1463–1464, 1472–1473 (2012). In all of those State
Constitutions, freedom of religion enjoyed broad protection, and
the right “was universally said to be an unalienable right.”
McConnell, Origins 1456.[
38]
2
What was this right understood to protect? In
seeking to discern that meaning, it is easy to get lost in the
voluminous discussion of religious liberty that occurred during the
long period from the first British settlements to the adoption of
the Bill of Rights. Many different political figures, religious
leaders, and others spoke and wrote about religious liberty and the
relationship between the authority of civil governments and
religious bodies. The works of a variety of thinkers were
influential, and views on religious liberty were informed by
religion, philosophy, historical experience, particular
controversies and issues, and in no small measure by the practical
task of uniting the Nation. The picture is complex.
For present purposes, we can narrow our focus
and concentrate on the circumstances that relate most directly to
the adoption of the Free Exercise Clause. As has often been
recounted, critical state ratifying conventions approved the
Constitution on the understanding that it would be amended to
provide express protection for certain fundamental rights,[
39] and the right to religious
liberty was unquestionably one of those rights. As noted, it was
expressly protected in 12 of the 13 State Constitutions, and these
state constitutional provisions provide the best evidence of the
scope of the right embodied in the First Amendment.
When we look at these provisions, we see one
predominant model. This model extends broad protection for
religious liberty but expressly provides that the right does not
protect conduct that would endanger “the public peace” or
“safety.”
This model had deep roots in early colonial
charters. It appeared in the Rhode Island Charter of 1663,[
40] the Second Charter of Carolina
in 1665,[
41] and the New
York Act Declaring Rights & Priviledges in 1691.[
42]
By the founding, more than half of the State
Constitutions contained free-exercise provisions subject to a
“peace and safety” carveout or something similar. The Georgia
Constitution is a good example. It provided that “[a]ll persons
whatever shall have the free exercise of their religion; provided
it be not repugnant to the
peace and safety of the State.”
Ga. Const., Art. LVI (1777), in Cogan 16 (emphasis added). The
founding era Constitutions of Delaware, Maryland, Massachusetts,
New Hampshire, New York, Rhode Island, and South Carolina all
contained broad protections for religious exercise, subject to
limited peace-and-safety carveouts.[
43]
The predominance of this model is highlighted by
its use in the laws governing the Northwest Territory. In the
Northwest Ordinance of 1787, the Continental Congress provided that
“[n]o person, demeaning himself in
a peaceable and orderly
manner, shall ever be molested on account of his mode of
worship, or religious sentiments, in the said territory.” Art. I
(emphasis added). After the ratification of the Constitution, the
First Congress used similar language in the Northwest Ordinance of
1789. See Act of Aug. 7, 1789, 1Stat. 52 (reaffirming Art. I of
Northwest Ordinance of 1787). Since the First Congress also framed
and approved the Bill of Rights, we have often said that its
apparent understanding of the scope of those rights is entitled to
great respect. See,
e.g., Town of Greece v.
Galloway,
572 U.S.
565, 575–578 (2014);
Harmelin v.
Michigan,
501 U.S.
957, 980 (1991) (opinion of Scalia, J.);
Marsh v.
Chambers,
463 U.S.
783, 786–792 (1983);
Carroll v.
United States,
267 U.S.
132, 150–151 (1925).
3
The model favored by Congress and the state
legislatures—providing broad protection for the free exercise of
religion except where public “peace” or “safety” would be
endangered—is antithetical to
Smith. If, as
Smith
held, the free-exercise right does not require any religious
exemptions from generally applicable laws, it is not easy to
imagine situations in which a public-peace-or-safety carveout would
be necessary. Legislatures enact generally applicable laws to
protect public peace and safety. If those laws are thought to be
sufficient to address a particular type of conduct when engaged in
for a secular purpose, why wouldn’t they also be sufficient to
address the same type of conduct when carried out for a religious
reason?
Smith’s defenders have no good answer.
Their chief response is that the free-exercise provisions that
included these carveouts were tantamount to the
Smith rule
because any conduct that is generally prohibited or generally
required can be regarded as necessary to protect public peace or
safety. See
City of Boerne, 521 U. S., at 539 (Scalia,
J., concurring in part) (“At the time these provisos were enacted,
keeping ‘peace’ and ‘order’ seems to have meant, precisely, obeying
the laws”).
This argument gives “public peace and safety” an
unnaturally broad interpretation. Samuel Johnson’s 1755 dictionary
defined “peace” as: “1. Respite from war. . . . 2.
Quiet from suits or disturbances. . . . 3. Rest from
any commotion. 4. Stil[l]ness from riots or
tumults. . . . 5. Reconciliation of
differences. . . . 6. A state not
hostile. . . . 7. Rest; quiet; content; freedom from
terrour; heavenly rest. . . .” 2 Johnson.[
44]
In ordinary usage, the term “safety” was
understood to mean: “1. Freedom from danger. . . . 2.
Exemption from hurt. 3. Preservation from hurt. . . .”
Ibid.[
45]
When “peace” and “safety” are understood in this
way, it cannot be said that every violation of every law imperils
public “peace” or “safety.” In 1791 (and today), violations of many
laws do not threaten “war,” “disturbances,” “commotion,” “riots,”
“terrour,” “danger,” or “hurt.” Blackstone catalogs numerous
violations that do not threaten any such harms, including
“cursing”;[
46] refusing to
pay assessments for “the repairs of sea banks and sea walls” and
the “cleansing of rivers, public streams, ditches and other
conduits”;[
47] “retaining a
man’s hired servant before his time is expired”;[
48] an attorney’s failure to show up for a
trial;[
49] the unauthorized
“solemniz[ing of a] marriage in any other place besides a church,
or public chapel wherein banns have been usually
published”;[
50]
“transporting and seducing our artists to settle abroad”;[
51] engaging in the conduct of “a
common scold”;[
52] and
“exercis[ing] a trade in any town, without having previously served
as an apprentice for seven years.”[
53]
In contrast to these violations, Blackstone
lists “offences against the public peace.” 4 Commentaries on the
Laws of England 142–153 (1769). Those include: riotous assembling
of 12 persons or more; unlawful hunting; anonymous threats and
demands; destruction of public floodgates, locks, or sluices on a
navigable river; public fighting; riots or unlawful assemblies;
“tumultuous” petitioning; forcible entry or detainer; riding or
“going armed” with dangerous or unusual weapons; spreading false
news to “make discord between the king and nobility, or concerning
any great man of the realm”; spreading “false and pretended”
prophecies to disturb the peace; provoking breaches of the peace;
and libel “to provoke . . . wrath, or expose [an individual] to
public hatred, contempt, and ridicule.”
Ibid. (emphasis
deleted); see also McConnell, Freedom from Persecution 835–836.
These offenses might inform what constitutes actual or threatened
breaches of public peace or safety in the ordinary sense of those
terms.[
54] But the ordinary
meaning of offenses that threaten public peace or safety must be
stretched beyond the breaking point to encompass
all
violations of
any law.[
55]
C
That the free-exercise right included the
right to certain religious exemptions is strongly supported by the
practice of the Colonies and States. When there were important
clashes between generally applicable laws and the religious
practices of particular groups, colonial and state legislatures
were willing to grant exemptions—even when the generally applicable
laws served critical state interests.
Oath exemptions are illustrative. Oath
requirements were considered “indispensable” to civil society
because they were thought to ensure that individuals gave truthful
testimony and fulfilled commitments. McConnell, Origins 1467.
Quakers and members of some other religious groups refused to take
oaths,
ibid., and therefore a categorical oath requirement
would have resulted in the complete exclusion of these Americans
from important civic activities, such as testifying in court and
voting, see
ibid.
Tellingly, that is not what happened. In the
1600s, Carolina allowed Quakers to enter a pledge rather than
swearing an oath.
Ibid. In 1691, New York permitted Quakers
to give testimony after giving an affirmation.
Ibid.
Massachusetts did the same in 1743.
Id., at 1467–1468. In
1734, New York also allowed Quakers to qualify to vote by making an
affirmation, and in 1740, Georgia granted an exemption to Jews,
allowing them to omit the phrase “ ‘on the faith of a
Christian’ ” from the State’s naturalization oath.
Id.,
at 1467. By 1789, almost all States had passed oath exemptions.
Id., at 1468.
Some early State Constitutions and declarations
of rights formally provided oath exemptions for religious
objectors. For instance, the Maryland Declaration of Rights of 1776
declared that Quakers, Mennonites, and members of some other
religious groups “ought to be allowed to make their solemn
affirmation” instead of an oath. §36, in Cogan 18. Similarly, the
Massachusetts Constitution of 1780 permitted Quakers holding
certain government positions to decline to take the prescribed oath
of office, allowing affirmations instead. Pt. II, ch. VI, Art. I,
in
id., at 22. The Federal Constitution likewise permits
federal and state officials to make either an “Oath
or
Affirmation, to support this Constitution.” Art. VI, cl. 3
(emphasis added); see also Art. I, §3, cl. 6; Art. II, §1, cl.
8.
Military conscription provides an even more
revealing example. In the Colonies and later in the States,
able-bodied men of a certain age were required to serve in the
militia, see
Heller, 554 U. S., at 595–596, but
Quakers, Mennonites, and members of some other religious groups
objected to militia service on religious grounds, see McConnell,
Origins 1468. The militia was regarded as essential to the security
of the State and the preservation of freedom, see
Heller,
554 U. S., at 597–598, but colonial governments nevertheless
granted religious exemptions, see McConnell, Origins 1468. Rhode
Island, Maryland, North Carolina, and New Hampshire did so in the
founding era.
Ibid. In 1755, New York permitted a
conscientious objector to obtain an exemption if he paid a fee or
sent a substitute.
Ibid. Massachusetts adopted a similar law
two years later, and Virginia followed suit in 1776.
Ibid.,
and n. 297.
The Continental Congress also granted exemptions
to religious objectors because conscription would do “violence to
their consciences.” Resolution of July 18, 1775, in 2 Journals of
the Continental Congress, 1774–1789, p. 189 (W. Ford ed. 1905)
(quoted in McConnell, Origins 1469, and n. 299). This decision is
especially revealing because during that time the Continental Army
was periodically in desperate need of soldiers,[
56] the very survival of the new Nation
often seemed in danger,[
57] and the Members of Congress faced bleak
personal prospects if the war was lost.[
58] Yet despite these stakes, exemptions were
granted.
Colonies with established churches also
permitted non-members to decline to pay special taxes dedicated to
the support of ministers of the established church. McConnell,
Origins 1469. Massachusetts and Connecticut exempted Baptists and
Quakers in 1727.
Ibid. Virginia provided exemptions to
Huguenots in 1700, German Lutherans in 1730, and dissenters from
the Church of England in 1776.
Ibid.; see also S. Cobb, The
Rise of Religious Liberty in America 98, 492 (1902). Beginning in
1692, New Hampshire exempted those who could prove they were
“ ‘conscientiously’ ” of a “ ‘different
persuasion,’ ” regularly attended their own religious
services, and contributed financially to their faith.
McConnell
, Origins 1469
.
Various other religious exemptions were also
provided. North Carolina and Maryland granted exemptions from the
requirement that individuals remove their hats in court, a gesture
that Quakers viewed as an impermissible showing of respect to a
secular authority.
Id., at 1471–1472. And Rhode Island
exempted Jews from some marriage laws.
Id., at 1471.
In an effort to dismiss the significance of
these legislative exemptions, it has been argued that they show
only what the Constitution permits, not what it requires.
City
of Boerne, 521 U. S., at 541 (opinion of Scalia, J.). But
legislatures provided those accommodations before the concept of
judicial review took hold, and their actions are therefore strong
evidence of the founding era’s understanding of the free-exercise
right. See McConnell
, Free Exercise Revisionism 1119. Cf.
Heller, 554 U. S., at 600–603 (looking to state
constitutions that preceded the adoption of the Second
Amendment).
D
Defenders of
Smith have advanced
historical arguments of their own, but they are unconvincing, and
in any event, plainly insufficient to overcome the ordinary meaning
of the constitutional text.
1
One prominent argument points to language in
some founding-era charters and constitutions prohibiting laws or
government actions that were taken “for” or “on account” of
religion. See
City of Boerne, 521 U. S., at 538–539
(opinion of Scalia, J.). That phrasing, it is argued, reaches only
measures that target religion, not neutral and generally applicable
laws. This argument has many flaws.
No such language appears in the Free Exercise
Clause, and in any event, the argument rests on a crabbed reading
of the words “for” or “on account of ” religion. As Professor
McConnell has explained, “[i]f a member of the Native American
Church is arrested for ingesting peyote during a religious
ceremony, then he surely is molested ‘for’ or ‘on account of ’
his religious practice—even though the law under which he is
arrested is neutral and generally applicable.” Freedom From
Persecution 834.
This argument also ignores the full text of many
of the provisions on which it relies.
Id., at 833–834. While
some protect against government actions taken “for” or “on account
of ” religion, they do not stop there. Instead, they go on to
provide broader protection for religious liberty. See,
e.g.,
Maryland Act Concerning Religion (1649), in Cogan 17 (guaranteeing
residents not be “troubled . . . in the free exercise [of
religion]”); New York Constitution (1777), in
id., at 26
(guaranteeing “the free Exercise and Enjoyment of religious
Profession and Worship”).
2
Another argument advanced by
Smith’s
defenders relies on the paucity of early cases “refusing to enforce
a generally applicable statute because of its failure to make
accommodation,”
City of Boerne, 521 U. S., at 542
(opinion of Scalia, J.). If exemptions were thought to be
constitutionally required, they contend, we would see many such
cases.
There might be something to this argument if
there were a great many cases denying exemptions and few granting
them, but the fact is that diligent research has found only a
handful of cases going either way. Commentators have discussed the
dearth of cases, and as they note, there are many possible
explanations.[
59] Early 19th
century legislation imposed only limited restrictions on private
conduct, and this minimized the chances of conflict between
generally applicable laws and religious practices. The principal
conflicts that arose—involving oaths, conscription, and taxes to
support an established church—were largely resolved by state
constitutional provisions and laws granting exemptions. And the
religious demographics of the time decreased the likelihood of
conflicts. The population was overwhelmingly Christian and
Protestant, the major Protestant denominations made up the great
bulk of the religious adherents,[
60] and other than with respect to the issue of taxes to
support an established church, it is hard to think of conflicts
between the practices of the members of these denominations and
generally applicable laws that a state legislature might have
enacted.
Members of minority religions are most likely to
encounter such conflicts, and the largest minority group, the
Quakers, who totaled about 10% of religious adherents,[
61] had received exemptions for the
practices that conflicted with generally applicable laws. As will
later be shown, see
infra, at 46–50, the small number of
religious-exemption cases that occurred during the early 19th
century involved members of what were then tiny religious
groups—such as Catholics, Jews, and Covenanters.[
62] Given the size of these groups, one
would not expect a large number of cases. And where cases arose,
the courts’ decisions may not have always been reported. Barclay,
The Historical Origins of Judicial Religious Exemptions, 96 Notre
Dame L. Rev. 55, 70 (2020).
3
When the body of potentially relevant cases is
examined, they provide little support for
Smith’s
interpretation of the free-exercise right. Not only are these
decisions few in number, but they reached mixed results. In
addition, some are unreasoned; some provide ambiguous explanations;
and many of the cases denying exemptions were based on grounds that
do not support
Smith.
The most influential early case granting an
exemption was
People v.
Philips, 1 W. L. J. 109,
112–113 (Gen. Sess., N. Y. 1813), where the court held that a
Catholic priest could not be compelled to testify about a
confession. The priest’s refusal, the court reasoned, was protected
by the state constitutional right to the free exercise of religion
and did not fall within the exception for “acts of licentiousness”
and “practices inconsistent with the peace or safety of th[e]
State.”[
63] This, of course,
is exactly the understanding of the free-exercise right that is
seen in the founding era State Constitutions.
Although
Philips was not officially
reported, knowledge of the decision appears to have spread widely.
Four years later, another New York court implicitly reaffirmed the
principle
Philips recognized but found the decision
inapplicable because the Protestant minister who was called to
testify did not feel a religious obligation to refuse. See
Smith’
s Case, 2 N. Y. City-Hall Recorder 77, 80,
and n. (1817); McConnell, Origins 1505–1506; Walsh 40–41.
In 1827, a South Carolina court relied on
Philips as support for its decision to grant an exemption
from a state law relied on to bar the testimony of a witness who
denied a belief in punishment after death for testifying falsely,
and the State’s newly constituted high court approved that opinion.
Farnandis v.
Henderson, 1 Carolina L. J. 202, 213,
214 (1827).[
64]
In
Commonwealth v.
Cronin, 2 Va.
Cir. 488, 498, 500, 505 (1855), a Virginia court followed
Philips and held that a priest’s free-exercise right
required an exemption from the general common law rule compelling a
witness to “disclose all he may know” when giving testimony.
On the other side of the ledger, the most
prominent opponent of exemptions was John Bannister Gibson of the
Pennsylvania Supreme Court. Today, Gibson is best known for his
dissent in
Eakin v
. Raub, 12 Serg. & Rawle 330,
355–356 (1825), which challenged John Marshall’s argument for
judicial review in
Marbury v
. Madison, 1 Cranch 137
(1803). See McConnell, Origins 1507. Three years after
Eakin, Gibson’s dissent in
Commonwealth v.
Lesher, 17 Serg. & Rawle 155 (Pa. 1828), advanced a
related argument against decisions granting religious exemptions.
Gibson agreed that the state constitutional provision protecting
religious liberty conferred the right to do or forbear from doing
any act “not prejudicial to the public weal,” but he argued that
judges had no authority to override legislative judgments about
what the public weal required.
Id., at 160–161 (emphasis
deleted).
Three years later, he made a similar argument in
dicta in
Philips’s Executors v.
Gratz, 2 Pen. &
W. 412, 412–413 (Pa. 1831), where a Jewish plaintiff had taken a
non-suit (agreed to a dismissal) in a civil case scheduled for
trial on a Saturday. Gibson’s opinion for the Court set aside the
non-suit on other grounds but rejected the plaintiff ’s
religious objection to trial on Saturday.
Id., at 416–417.
He proclaimed that a citizen’s obligation to the State must always
take precedence over any religious obligation, and he expressly
registered disagreement with the New York court’s decision in
Philips.
Id., at 417.
In South Carolina, an exemption claim was denied
in
State v.
Willson, 13 S. C. L. 393, 394–397 (1823),
where the court refused to exempt a member of the Covenanters
religious movement from jury service. Because Covenanters opposed
the Constitution on religious grounds, they refused to engage in
activities, such as jury service and voting, that required an oath
to support the Constitution or otherwise enlisted their
participation in the Nation’s scheme of government.[
65] It is possible to read the opinion in
Willson as embodying something like the
Smith rule—or
as concluding that granting the exemption would have opened the
floodgates and undermined public peace and safety. See 13 S. C. L.,
at 395 (“who could distinguish . . . between the pious
asseveration of a holy man and that of an accomplished villain”).
But if
Willson is read as rejecting religious exemptions,
South Carolina’s reconstituted high court reversed that position in
Farnandis.[
66]
Other cases denying exemptions are even less
helpful to
Smith’s defenders. Three decisions rejected
challenges to Sunday closing laws by merchants who celebrated
Saturday as the Sabbath, but at least two of these were based on
the court’s conclusion that the asserted religious belief was
unfounded. See
City Council of Charleston v.
Benjamin, 33 S. C. L. 508, 529 (1846) (“There is
. . . no violation of the Hebrew’s religion, in requiring
him to cease from labor on another day than his Sabbath, if he be
left free to observe the latter according to his religion”
(emphasis deleted));
Commonwealth v.
Wolf, 3 Serg.
& Rawle 47, 50, 51 (Pa. 1817) (“[T]he Jewish Talmud
. . . asserts no such doctrine” and the objection was
made “out of mere caprice”). That reasoning is contrary to a
principle that
Smith reaffirmed: “Repeatedly and in many
different contexts, we have warned that courts must not presume to
determine . . . the plausibility of a religious claim.”
494 U. S., at 887.
A third Sunday closing law decision appears to
rest at least in part on a similar ground. See
Specht v.
Commonwealth, 8 Pa. 312 (1848). The court observed that the
merchant’s conscience rights might have been violated if his
religion actually required him to work on Sunday, but the court
concluded that the commandment to keep holy the Sabbath had never
been understood to impose “an imperative obligation to fill up each
day of the other six with some worldly employment.”
Id., at
326.
Other cases cited as denying exemptions were
decided on nebulous grounds. In
Stansbury v
. Marks, 2
Dall. 213 (Pa. 1793), a decision of the Pennsylvania Supreme Court,
the case report in its entirety states: “In this cause (which was
tried on Saturday, the 5th of April) the defendant offered Jonas
Phillips, a Jew, as a witness; but he refused to be sworn, because
it was his Sabbath. The Court, therefore, fined him £10; but the
defendant, afterwards, waving the benefit of his testimony, he was
discharged from the fine.” (Emphasis deleted.) What can be deduced
from this cryptic summary? Was the issue mooted when the defendant
waived the benefit of Phillips’s testimony? Who can tell?
In
Commonwealth v.
Drake, 15 Mass.
161 (1818), the Supreme Judicial Court of Massachusetts summarily
affirmed the conviction of a criminal defendant who was convicted
after the trial court admitted the testimony of his fellow church
members before whom he had confessed. The State argued that the
defendant had voluntarily confessed, that his confession was not
required by any “ecclesiastical rule,” and that he had confessed
“not to the church” but “to his friends and neighbours.”
Id., at 162. Because the court provided no explanation of
its decision, this case sheds no light on the understanding of the
free-exercise right.
All told, this mixed bag of antebellum decisions
does little to support
Smith, and extending the search past
the Civil War does not advance
Smith’s cause. One of the
objectives of the Fourteenth Amendment, it has been argued, was to
protect the religious liberty of African-Americans in the South,
where a combination of laws that did not facially target religious
practice had been used to suppress religious exercise by slaves.
See generally Lash, The Second Adoption of the Free Exercise
Clause: Religious Exemptions Under the Fourteenth Amendment, 88 Nw.
U. L. Rev. 1106 (1994).
4
Some have claimed that the drafting history of
the Bill of Rights supports
Smith. See Brief for First
Amendment Scholars as
Amici Curiae 10–11; Muñoz, Original
Meaning 1085. But as Professor Philip Hamburger, one of
Smith’s most prominent academic defenders, has concluded,
“[w]hat any of this [history] implies about the meaning of the Free
Exercise Clause is speculative.” Religious Exemption 928.
Here is the relevant history. The House debated
a provision, originally proposed by Madison, that protected the
right to bear arms but included language stating that “no person,
religiously scrupulous, shall be compelled to bear arms.” 1 Annals
of Cong. 749, 766 (1789); see also Muñoz, Original Meaning 1112.
Some Members spoke in favor of
the proposal,[
67] others opposed it,[
68] and in the end, after adding the words “in person” at
the end of the clause, the House adopted it.[
69] The Senate, however, rejected the proposal
(for reasons not provided on the public record),
id., at
1116, and the House acceded to the deletion.
Those who claim that this episode supports
Smith argue that the House would not have found it necessary
to include this proviso in the Second Amendment if it had thought
that the Free Exercise Clause already protected conscientious
objectors from conscription, Muñoz, Original Meaning 1120, but that
conclusion is unfounded. Those who favored Madison’s language might
have thought it necessary, not because the free-exercise right
never required religious exemptions but because they feared
that exemption from military service would be held to fall into the
free-exercise right’s carveout for conduct that threatens public
safety.[
70] And of course,
it could be argued that the willingness of the House to
constitutionalize this exemption despite its potential effect on
national security shows the depth of the Members’ commitment to the
concept of religious exemptions.
As for the Senate’s rejection of the proviso, we
have often warned against drawing inferences from Congress’s
failure to adopt a legislative proposal. See
Schneidewind v.
ANR Pipeline Co.,
485 U.S.
293, 306 (1988) (“This Court generally is reluctant to draw
inferences from Congress’ failure to act”);
Brecht v.
Abrahamson,
507 U.S.
619, 632–633 (1993) (collecting cases). And in this instance,
there are many possible explanations for what happened in the
Senate. The rejection of the proviso
could have been due to
a general objection to religious exemptions, but it could also have
been based on any of the following grounds: opposition to this
particular exemption, the belief that conscientious objectors were
already protected by the Free Exercise Clause, a belief that
military service fell within the public safety carveout, or the
view that Congress should be able to decide whether to grant or
withhold such exemptions based on its assessment of what national
security required at particular times.
* * *
In sum, based on the text of the Free Exercise
Clause and evidence about the original understanding of the
free-exercise right, the case for
Smith fails to overcome
the more natural reading of the text. Indeed, the case against
Smith is very convincing.
V
That conclusion cannot end our analysis. “We
will not overturn a past decision unless there are strong grounds
for doing so,”
Janus v.
State, County, and Municipal
Employees, 585 U. S. ___, ___ (2018) (slip op., at 34),
but at the same time,
stare decisis is “not an inexorable
command.”
Ibid. (internal quotation marks omitted). It “is
at its weakest when we interpret the Constitution because our
interpretation can be altered only by constitutional amendment or
by overruling our prior decisions.”
Agostini v.
Felton,
521 U.S.
203, 235 (1997). And it applies with “perhaps least force of
all to decisions that wrongly denied First Amendment rights.”
Janus, 585 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 34); see also
Federal Election Comm’n v.
Wisconsin Right to Life,
Inc.,
551 U.S.
449, 500 (2007) (Scalia, J., concurring in part and concurring
in judgment) (“This Court has not hesitated to overrule decisions
offensive to the First Amendment (a fixed star in our
constitutional constellation, if there is one)” (internal quotation
marks omitted));
Citizens United v.
Federal Election
Comm’n,
558 U.S.
310, 365 (2010) (overruling
Austin v.
Michigan
Chamber of Commerce,
494 U.S.
652 (1990));
West Virginia Bd. of Ed. v.
Barnette,
319 U.S.
624, 642 (1943) (overruling
Minersville School Dist.
v
. Gobitis,
310 U.S.
586 (1940)).
In assessing whether to overrule a past decision
that appears to be incorrect, we have considered a variety of
factors, and four of those weigh strongly against
Smith: its
reasoning; its consistency with other decisions; the workability of
the rule that it established; and developments since the decision
was handed down. See
Janus, 585 U. S., at ___–___ (slip
op., at 34–35). No relevant factor, including reliance, weighs in
Smith’s favor.
A
Smith’s reasoning. As explained in
detail above,
Smith is a methodological outlier. It ignored
the “normal and ordinary” meaning of the constitutional text, see
Heller, 554 U. S., at 576, and it made no real effort
to explore the understanding of the free-exercise right at the time
of the First Amendment’s adoption. And the Court adopted its
reading of the Free Exercise Clause with no briefing on the issue
from the parties or
amici. Laycock, 8 J. L. & Religion,
at 101.
Then there is
Smith’s treatment of
precedent. It looked for precedential support in strange places,
and the many precedents that stood in its way received remarkably
rough treatment.
Looking for a case that had endorsed its
no-exemptions view,
Smith turned to
Gobitis, 310
U. S., at 586, a decision that Justice Scalia himself later
acknowledged was “erroneous,”
Wisconsin Right to Life,
Inc., 551 U. S., at 500–501 (opinion concurring in
part). William Gobitas,[
71]
a 10-year-old fifth grader, and his 12-year-old sister Lillian
refused to salute the flag during the Pledge of Allegiance because,
along with other Jehovah’s Witnesses, they thought the salute
constituted idolatry. 310 U. S., at 591–592.[
72] William’s “teacher tried to force his
arm up, but William held on to his pocket and successfully
resisted.”[
73] The Gobitas
children were expelled from school, and the family grocery was
boycotted.[
74]
This Court upheld the children’s expulsion
because, in ringing rhetoric quoted by
Smith,
“[c]onscientious scruples have not, in the course of the long
struggle for religious toleration, relieved the individual from
obedience to a general law not aimed at the promotion or
restriction of religious beliefs.” 310 U. S., at 594; see also
Smith, 494 U. S., at 879 (quoting this passage). This
declaration was overblown when issued in 1940. (As noted, many
religious exemptions had been granted by legislative bodies, and
the 1940 statute instituting the peacetime draft continued that
tradition by exempting conscientious objectors. Selective Training
and Service Act, 54Stat. 885, 889.) By 1990, when
Smith was
handed down, the pronouncement flew in the face of nearly 40 years
of Supreme Court precedent.
But even if all that is put aside,
Smith’s recourse to
Gobitis was surprising because
the decision was overruled just three years later when three of the
Justices in the majority had second thoughts. See
Barnette,
319 U.S. 642;
id., at 643–644 (Black and Douglas, JJ.,
concurring);
id., at 644–646 (Murphy, J., concurring).
Turning
Gobitis’s words on their head,
Barnette held
that students with religious objections to saluting the flag were
indeed “relieved . . . from obedience to a general [rule]
not aimed at the promotion or restriction of religious beliefs.”
Gobitis, 310 U. S., at 594.
After reviving
Gobitis’s anti-exemption
rhetoric,
Smith turned to
Reynolds v.
United
States,
98 U.S.
145, an 1879 decision upholding the polygamy conviction of a
member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Unlike
Gobitis,
Reynolds at least had not been
overruled,[
75] but the
decision was not based on anything like
Smith’s
interpretation of the Free Exercise Clause. It rested primarily on
the proposition that the Free Exercise Clause protects beliefs, not
conduct. 98 U. S., at 166–167. The Court had repudiated that
distinction a half century before
Smith was decided. See
Cantwell, 310 U. S., at 303–304;
Murdock v.
Pennsylvania,
319 U.S.
105, 110–111, 117 (1943). And
Smith itself agreed! See
494 U. S., at 877.
The remaining pre-
Sherbert cases cited by
Smith actually cut against its interpretation. None was
based on the rule that
Smith adopted. Although these
decisions ended up denying exemptions, they did so on other
grounds. In
Prince v.
Massachusetts,
321 U.S.
158 (1944), where a Jehovah’s Witness who enlisted a child to
distribute religious literature was convicted for violating a state
child labor law, the decision was based on the Court’s assessment
of the strength of the State’s interest.
Id., at 159–160,
162, 169–170; see also
Yoder, 406 U. S., at 230–231
(describing the
Prince Court’s rationale).
In
Braunfeld v.
Brown,
366 U.S.
599, 601, 609 (1961) (plurality opinion), which rejected a
Jewish merchant’s challenge to Pennsylvania’s Sunday closing laws,
the Court balanced the competing interests. The Court attached
diminished weight to the burden imposed by the law (because it did
not require work on Saturday),
id., at 606,[
76] and on the other side of the balance,
the Court accepted the Commonwealth’s view that the public welfare
was served by providing a uniform day of rest,
id., at
608–609; see
Sherbert, 374 U. S., at 408–409
(discussing
Braunfeld).
When
Smith came to post-
Sherbert
cases, the picture did not improve. First, in order to place
Sherbert,
Hobbie, and
Thomas in a special
category reserved for cases involving unemployment compensation, an
inventive transformation was required. None of those opinions
contained a hint that they were limited in that way. And since
Smith itself involved the award of unemployment compensation
benefits under a scheme that allowed individualized exemptions, it
is hard to see why that case did not fall into the same
category.
The Court tried to escape this problem by
framing Alfred Smith’s and Galen Black’s free-exercise claims as
requests for exemptions from the Oregon law criminalizing the
possession of peyote, see 494 U. S., at 876, but neither Smith
nor Black was prosecuted for that offense even though the State was
well aware of what they had done. The State had the discretion to
decline prosecution based on the facts of particular cases, and
that is presumably what it did regarding Smith and Black. Why this
was not sufficient to bring the case within
Smith’s rule
about individualized exemptions is unclear. See McConnell, Free
Exercise Revisionism 1124.
Having pigeon-holed
Sherbert,
Hobbie, and
Thomas as unemployment compensation
decisions,
Smith still faced problems. For one thing, the
Court had previously applied the
Sherbert test in many cases
not involving unemployment compensation, including
Hernandez
v.
Commissioner,
490 U.S.
680 (1989) (disallowance of tax deduction);
Lee,
455 U.S.
252 (payment of taxes); and
Gillette, 401 U.S.
437 (denial of conscientious objector status to person with
religious objection to a particular war). To get these cases out of
the way,
Smith claimed that, because they ultimately found
no free-exercise violations, they merely “
purported to apply
the
Sherbert test.” 494 U. S., at 883 (emphasis
added).
This was a curious observation. In all those
cases, the Court invoked the
Sherbert test but found that it
did not require relief. See
Hernandez, 490 U. S., at
699;
Lee, 455 U. S., at 257–260;
Gillette, 401
U. S., at 462
. Was the
Smith Court questioning
the sincerity of these earlier opinions? If not, then in what sense
did those decisions merely “purport” to apply
Sherbert?
Finally, having swept all these cases from the
board,
Smith still faced at least one big troublesome
precedent:
Yoder.
Yoder not only applied the
Sherbert test but held that the Free Exercise Clause
required an exemption totally unrelated to unemployment benefits.
406 U. S., at 220–221, 236. To dispose of
Yoder,
Smith was forced to invent yet another special category of
cases, those involving “hybrid-rights” claims.
Yoder fell
into this category because it implicated both the Amish parents’
free-exercise claim and a parental-rights claim stemming from
Pierce v
. Society of Sisters,
268
U.S. 510 (1925). See
Smith, 494 U. S., at 881. And
in such hybrid cases,
Smith held, the
Sherbert test
survived. See 494 U. S., at 881–882.
It is hard to see the justification for this
curious doctrine. The idea seems to be that if two independently
insufficient constitutional claims join forces they may merge into
a single valid hybrid claim, but surely the rule cannot be that
asserting two invalid claims, no matter how weak, is always enough.
So perhaps the doctrine requires the assignment of a numerical
score to each claim. If a passing grade is 70 and a party advances
a free-speech claim that earns a grade of 40 and a free-exercise
claim that merits a grade of 31, the result would be a (barely)
sufficient hybrid claim. Such a scheme is obviously unworkable and
has never been recognized outside of
Smith.
And then there is the problem that the
hybrid-rights exception would largely swallow up
Smith’s
general rule. A great many claims for religious exemptions can
easily be understood as hybrid free-exercise/free-speech claims.
Take the claim in
Smith itself. To members of the Native
American Church, the ingestion of peyote during a religious
ceremony is a sacrament. When Smith and Black participated in this
sacrament, weren’t they engaging in a form of expressive conduct?
Their ingestion of peyote “communicate[d], in a rather dramatic
way, [their] faith in the tenets of the Native American Church,”
and the State’s prohibition of that practice “interfered with their
ability to communicate this message” in violation of the Free
Speech Clause. McConnell, Free Exercise Revisionism 1122. And, “if
a hybrid claim is one in which a litigant would actually obtain an
exemption from a formally neutral, generally applicable law under
another constitutional provision, then there would have been
no reason for the Court in [the so-called] hybrid cases to have
mentioned the Free Exercise Clause at all.”
Lukumi, 508
U. S., at 566–567 (opinion of Souter, J.); see also Laycock, 8
J. L. & Religion, at 106 (noting that
Smith “reduces the
free exercise clause to a cautious redundancy, relevant only to
‘hybrid’ cases”). It is telling that this Court has never once
accepted a “hybrid rights” claim in the more than three decades
since
Smith.
In addition to all these maneuvers—creating
special categories for unemployment compensation cases, cases
involving individualized exemptions, and hybrid-rights
cases—
Smith ignored the multiple occasions when the Court
had directly repudiated the very rule that
Smith adopted.
See
supra, at 13–14.
Smith’s rough treatment of prior
decisions diminishes its own status as a precedent.
B
Consistency with other precedents.
Smith is also discordant with other precedents.
Smith
did not overrule
Sherbert or any of the other cases that
built on
Sherbert from 1963 to 1990, and for the reasons
just discussed,
Smith is tough to harmonize with those
precedents.
The same is true about more recent decisions. In
Hosanna-Tabor Evangelical Lutheran Church and School v
.
EEOC,
565 U.S.
171 (2012), the Court essentially held that the First Amendment
entitled a religious school to a special exemption from the
requirements of the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990 (ADA),
104Stat. 327, 42 U. S. C. §12101
et seq. When the
school discharged a teacher, she claimed that she had been
terminated because of disability. 565 U. S., at 178–179. Since
the school considered her a “minister” and she provided religious
instruction for her students, the school argued that her discharge
fell within the so-called “ministerial exception” to generally
applicable employment laws.
Id., at 180. The Equal
Employment Opportunity Commission maintained that
Smith
precluded recognition of this exception because “the ADA’s
prohibition on retaliation, like Oregon’s prohibition on peyote
use, is a valid and neutral law of general applicability.”
Id., at 190; see
id., at 189–190. We nevertheless
held that the exception applied.
Id., at 190.[
77] Similarly, in
Our Lady of Guadalupe
School v.
Morrissey-Berru, 591 U. S. ___, ___–___
(2020) (slip op., at 21–22), we found that other religious schools
were entitled to similar exemptions from both the ADA and the Age
Discrimination in Employment Act of 1967.
There is also tension between
Smith and
our opinion in
Masterpiece Cakeshop, Ltd. v
. Colorado
Civil Rights Comm’n, 584 U. S. ___ (2018). In that case,
we observed that “[w]hen it comes to weddings, it can be assumed
that a member of the clergy who objects to gay marriage on moral
and religious grounds could not be compelled to perform the
ceremony without denial of his or her right to the free exercise of
religion.”
Id., at ___ (slip op., at 10). The clear import
of this observation is that such a member of the clergy would be
entitled to a religious exemption from a state law restricting the
authority to perform a state-recognized marriage to individuals who
are willing to officiate both opposite-sex and same-sex
weddings.
Other inconsistencies exist.
Smith
declared that “a private right to ignore generally applicable laws”
would be a “constitutional anomaly,” 494 U. S., at 886, but
this Court has often permitted exemptions from generally applicable
laws in First Amendment cases. For instance, in
Boy Scouts of
America v.
Dale,
530 U.S.
640, 656 (2000), we granted the Boy Scouts an exemption from an
otherwise generally applicable state public accommodations law. In
Hurley v
. Irish-American Gay, Lesbian and Bisexual Group
of Boston,
Inc.,
515 U.S.
557, 573 (1995), parade sponsors’ speech was exempted from the
requirements of a similar law.
The granting of an exemption from a generally
applicable law is tantamount to a holding that a law is
unconstitutional as applied to a particular set of facts, see
Barclay & Rienzi, Constitutional Anomalies or As-Applied
Challenges? A Defense of Religious Exemptions, 59 Boston
College L. Rev. 1595, 1611 (2018)
, and cases holding
generally applicable laws unconstitutional as applied are
unremarkable. “[T]he normal rule is that partial, rather than
facial, invalidation is the required course, such that a statute
may . . . be declared invalid to the extent that it
reaches too far, but otherwise left intact.” Ayotte v. Planned
Parenthood of Northern New Eng.,
546 U.S.
320, 329 (2006) (internal quotation marks omitted; emphasis
added). Thus, in
Brown v.
Socialist Workers ’74 Campaign
Comm. (Ohio),
459 U.S.
87 (1982), we held that a law requiring disclosure of campaign
contributions and expenditures could not be “constitutionally
applied” to a minor party whose members and contributors would face
“threats, harassment or reprisals.”
Id., at 101–102. Cf.
NAACP v
. Alabama ex rel. Patterson,
357 U.S.
449, 466 (1958) (exempting the NAACP from a disclosure order
entered to purportedly investigate compliance with a generally
applicable statute). In
Hustler Magazine, Inc. v.
Falwell,
485 U.S.
46, 56 (1988), and
Snyder v
. Phelps,
562 U.S.
443, 459 (2011), the Court held that an established and
generally applicable tort claim (the intentional infliction of
emotional distress) could not constitutionally be applied to the
particular expression at issue. Similarly, breach-of-the-peace
laws, although generally valid, have been held to violate the Free
Speech Clause under certain circumstances. See
Cohen v
.
California,
403 U.S.
15, 16, 26 (1971);
Cantwell, 310 U. S., at 300,
311; see also
Bartnicki v.
Vopper,
532 U.S.
514, 517, 535 (2001) (respondents not liable under law
prohibiting disclosure of illegally intercepted communications
because their speech was protected by the First Amendment);
United States v.
Treasury Employees,
513 U.S.
454, 477 (1995) (respondents not subject to the honoraria ban
because it would violate their First Amendment rights);
United
States v.
Grace,
461 U.S.
171, 175, 179, 183 (1983) (respondents engaging in expressive
conduct on public sidewalks not subject to law generally regulating
conduct on Supreme Court grounds).
Finally,
Smith’s treatment of the
free-exercise right is fundamentally at odds with how we usually
think about liberties guaranteed by the Bill of Rights. As Justice
Jackson famously put it, “[t]he very purpose of a Bill of Rights
was to withdraw certain subjects from the vicissitudes of political
controversy, to place them beyond the reach of majorities and
officials.”
Barnette, 319 U. S., at 638.
Smith,
by contrast, held that protection of religious liberty was better
left to the political process than to courts. 494 U. S., at
890. In
Smith’s view, the Nation simply could not “afford
the luxury” of protecting the free exercise of religion from
generally applicable laws.
Id., at 888. Under this
interpretation, the free exercise of religion does not receive the
judicial protection afforded to other, favored rights.
C
Workability. One of
Smith’s
supposed virtues was ease of application, but things have not
turned out that way. Instead, at least four serious problems have
arisen and continue to plague courts when called upon to apply
Smith.
1
“Hybrid-rights” cases. The “hybrid
rights” exception, which was essential to distinguish
Yoder,
has baffled the lower courts. They are divided into at least three
camps. See
Combs v.
Homer-Center School Dist., 540
F.3d 231, 244–247 (CA3 2008) (describing Circuit split). Some
courts have taken the extraordinary step of openly refusing to
follow this part of
Smith’s interpretation. The Sixth
Circuit was remarkably blunt: “[H]old[ing] that the legal standard
under the Free Exercise Clause depends on whether a free-exercise
claim is coupled with other constitutional rights . . .
is completely illogical.”
Kissinger v
. Board of Trustees
of Ohio State Univ., 5 F.3d 177, 180 (1993). The Second and
Third Circuits have taken a similar approach. See
Leebaert
v.
Harrington,
332 F.3d 134, 144 (CA2 2003) (“We . . . can think of
no good reason for the standard of review to vary simply with the
number of constitutional rights that the plaintiff asserts have
been violated”);
Knight v
. Connecticut Dept.
of
Pub. Health,
275 F.3d 156, 167 (CA2 2001);
Combs, 540 F. 3d, at
247 (“Until the Supreme Court provides direction, we believe the
hybrid-rights theory to be dicta”).
A second camp holds that the hybrid-rights
exception applies only when a free-exercise claim is joined with
some other independently viable claim. See
Archdiocese of
Washington v.
WMATA, 897 F.3d 314, 331 (CADC 2018) (A
“hybrid rights claim . . . requires independently viable
free speech and free exercise claims”);
Gary S. v.
Manchester School Dist.,
374 F.3d 15, 19 (CA1 2004) (adopting District Court’s reasoning
that “the [hybrid-rights] exception can be invoked only if the
plaintiff has joined a free exercise challenge with another
independently viable constitutional claim,”
241 F. Supp. 2d 111, 121 (NH 2003));
Brown v.
Hot,
Sexy and Safer Productions,
68 F.3d 525, 539 (CA1 1995). But this approach essentially
makes the free-exercise claim irrelevant. See
Axson-Flynn v.
Johnson,
356 F.3d 1277, 1296–1297 (CA10 2004) (“[I]t makes no sense to
adopt a strict standard that essentially requires a
successful companion claim because such a test would make
the free exercise claim unnecessary”); see also
Lukumi, 508
U. S., at 567 (opinion of Souter, J.) (making the same
point).
The third group requires that the
non-free-exercise claim be “colorable.” See
Cornerstone
Christian Schools v.
University Interscholastic League,
563 F.3d 127, 136, n. 8 (CA5 2009);
San Jose Christian
College v.
Morgan Hill,
360 F.3d 1024, 1032–1033 (CA9 2004);
Axson-Flynn, 356
F. 3d, at 1295–1297. But what that means is obscure. See,
e.g., id., at 1295 (referring to “helpful” analogies
such as the “ ‘likelihood of success on the merits’ standard
for preliminary injunctions” or the pre-Antiterrorism and Effective
Death Penalty Act standard for obtaining an evidentiary hearing,
i.e., a “ ‘colorable showing of factual
innocence’ ”).[
78]
It is rare to encounter a holding of this Court
that has so thoroughly stymied or elicited such open derision from
the Courts of Appeals.
2
Rules that “target” religion.
Post-
Smith cases have also struggled with the task of
determining whether a purportedly neutral rule “targets” religious
exercise or has the restriction of religious exercise as its
“object.”
Lukumi, 508 U. S., at 534;
Smith, 494
U. S., at 878. A threshold question is whether “targeting”
calls for an objective or subjective inquiry. Must “targeting” be
assessed based solely on the terms of the relevant rule or rules?
Or can evidence of the rulemakers’ motivation be taken into
account? If subjective motivations may be considered, does it
matter whether the challenged state action is an adjudication, the
promulgation of a rule, or the enactment of legislation? Should
courts consider the motivations of only the officials who took the
challenged action, or may they also take into account comments by
superiors and others in a position of influence? And what degree of
hostility to religion or a religious group is required to prove
“targeting”?
The genesis of this problem was
Smith’s
holding that a rule is not neutral “if prohibiting the exercise of
religion” is its “object.” 494 U. S., at 878.
Smith did
not elaborate on what that meant, and later in
Lukumi, which
concerned city ordinances that burdened the practice of Santeria,
508 U. S., at 525–528, Justices in the
Smith majority
adopted different interpretations. Justice Scalia and Chief Justice
Rehnquist took the position that the “object” of a rule must be
determined by its terms and that evidence of the rulemakers’
motivation should not be considered. 508 U. S., at 557–559.
This interpretation had the disadvantage of allowing skillful
rulemakers to target religious exercise by devising a facially
neutral rule that applies to both the targeted religious conduct
and a slice of secular conduct that can be burdened without
eliciting unacceptable opposition from those whose interests are
affected.
The alternative to this approach takes courts
into the difficult business of ascertaining the subjective
motivations of rulemakers. In
Lukumi, Justices Kennedy and
Stevens took that path and relied on numerous statements by council
members showing that their object was to ban the practice of
Santeria within the city’s borders.
Id., at 540–542. Thus,
Lukumi left the meaning of a rule’s “object” up in the
air.
When the issue returned in
Masterpiece
Cakeshop, the question was only partially resolved. Holding
that the Colorado Civil Rights Commission violated the
free-exercise rights of a baker who refused for religious reasons
to create a cake for a same-sex wedding, the Court pointed to
disparaging statements made by commission members, and the Court
noted that these comments, “by an adjudicatory body deciding a
particular case,” “were made in a very different context” from the
remarks by the council members in
Lukumi.
Masterpiece
Cakeshop, 584 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 14). That is as
far as this Court’s decisions have gone on the question of
targeting, and thus many important questions remain open.
The present case highlights two—specifically,
which officials’ motivations are relevant and what degree of
disparagement must be shown to establish unconstitutional
targeting. In
Masterpiece Cakeshop, the commissioners’
statements—comparing the baker’s actions to the Holocaust and
slavery and suggesting that his beliefs were just an excuse for
bigotry—went too far.
Id., at ___–___ (slip op., at 12–14).
But what about the comments of Philadelphia officials in this case?
The city council labeled CSS’s policy “discrimination that occurs
under the guise of religious freedom.” App. to Pet. for Cert. 147a.
The mayor had said that the Archbishop’s actions were not
“Christian,” and he once called on the Pope “to kick some ass
here.”
Id., at 173a, 177a–178a. In addition, the
commissioner of the Department of Human Services (DHS), who serves
at the mayor’s pleasure,[
79]
disparaged CSS’s policy as out of date and out of touch with Pope
Francis’s teachings.[
80]
The Third Circuit found this evidence
insufficient. Although the mayor conferred with the DHS
commissioner both before and after her meeting with CSS
representatives, the mayor’s remarks were disregarded because there
was no evidence “that he played a
direct role, or even a
significant role, in the process.” 922 F. 3d, at 157
(emphasis added). The city council’s suggestion that CSS’s
religious liberty claim was a “guise” for discrimination was found
to “fal[l] into [a] grey zone,” and the commissioner’s debate with
a CSS representative about up-to-date Catholic teaching, which
“some might think . . . improper” “if taken out of
context” was “best viewed as an effort to reach common ground with
[CSS] by appealing to an authority within their shared religious
tradition.”
Ibid. One may agree or disagree with the Third
Circuit’s characterization and evaluation of the statements of the
City officials, but the court’s analysis highlights the extremely
impressionistic inquiry that
Smith’s targeting requirement
may entail.
Confusion and disagreement about “targeting”
have surfaced in other cases. Recently in
Roman Catholic Diocese
of Brooklyn v
. Cuomo, 592 U. S. ___ (2020)
(
per curiam), there were conflicting views about
comments made by the Governor of New York. On the day before he
severely restricted religious services in Brooklyn, the Governor
“said that if the ‘ultra-Orthodox [Jewish] community’ would not
agree to enforce the rules, ‘then we’ll close the institutions
down.’ ”
Agudath Israel of America v.
Cuomo, 980
F.3d 222, 229 (CA2 2020) (Park, J., dissenting). A dissenting
judge on the Second Circuit thought the Governor had crossed the
line,
ibid., and we ultimately enjoined enforcement of the
rules,
Roman Catholic Diocese, 592 U. S., at ___. But
two Justices who dissented found the Governor’s comments
inconsequential.
Id., at ___–___ (slip op., at 4–5) (opinion
of Sotomayor, J., joined by Kagan, J.).
In
Stormans, Inc. v.
Wiesman, 579
U. S. ___ (2016) (denying certiorari), there was similar
disagreement. That case featured strong evidence that pro-life
Christian pharmacists who refused to dispense emergency
contraceptives were the object of a new rule requiring every
pharmacy to dispense every Food and Drug Administration-approved
drug. A primary drafter of the rule all but admitted that the rule
was aimed at these pharmacists, and the Governor took unusual steps
to secure adoption of the rule.
Stormans, Inc. v.
Selecky, 854 F. Supp. 2d 925, 937–943 (WD Wash. 2012). After
a 12-day trial, the District Court found that Christian pharmacists
had been targeted,
id., at 966, 987, but the Ninth Circuit
refused to accept that finding,
Stormans, Inc., 794 F.3d
1064, 1079 (2015). Compare
Stormans, Inc., 579 U. S.,
at ___–___, and n. 3 (Alito, J., joined by Roberts,
C. J., and Thomas, J., dissenting from denial of certiorari)
(slip op., at 8–9, and n. 3) (questioning Ninth Circuit’s
finding).
Decisions of the lower courts on the issue of
targeting remain in disarray. Compare
F. F. v.
State,
66 Misc. 3d 467, 479–482, 114 N. Y. S. 3d 852, 865–867
(2019) (declining to consider individual legislators’ comments);
Tenafly Eruv Assn., Inc. v.
Tenafly,
309 F.3d 144, 168, n. 30 (CA3 2002) (declining to reach issue),
with
Commack Self-Service Kosher Meats, Inc. v.
Hooker, 680 F.3d 194, 211 (CA2 2012) (considering
legislative history);
St. John’s United Church of Christ v.
Chicago, 502 F.3d 616, 633 (CA7 2007) (“[W]e must look at
. . . the ‘historical background of the decision under
challenge’ ” (quoting
Lukumi, 508 U. S., at 540));
Children’s Healthcare Is a Legal Duty, Inc. v.
Min De
Parle,
212 F.3d 1084, 1090 (CA8 2000) (targeting can be evidenced by
legislative history).
3
The nature and scope of exemptions.
There is confusion about the meaning of
Smith’s holding on
exemptions from generally applicable laws. Some decisions apply
this special rule if multiple secular exemptions are granted. See,
e.g., Horen v.
Commonwealth, 23 Va. App. 735,
743–744, 479 S.E.2d 553, 557 (1997);
Rader v.
Johnston,
924 F. Supp. 1540, 1551–1553 (Neb. 1996). Others conclude that
even one secular exemption is enough. See,
e.g., Midrash
Sephardi, Inc. v.
Surfside,
366 F.3d 1214, 1234–1235 (CA11 2004);
Fraternal Order of
Police Newark Lodge No. 12 v.
Newark,
170 F.3d 359, 365 (CA3 1999). And still others have applied the
rule where the law, although allowing no exemptions on its face,
was widely unenforced in cases involving secular conduct. See,
e.g., Tenafly Eruv Assn., 309 F. 3d, at
167–168.
4
Identifying appropriate comparators. To
determine whether a law provides equal treatment for secular and
religious conduct, two steps are required. First, a court must
identify the secular conduct with which the religious conduct is to
be compared. Second, the court must determine whether the State’s
reasons for regulating the religious conduct apply with equal force
to the secular conduct with which it is compared. See
Lukumi, 508 U. S., at 543. In
Smith, this
inquiry undoubtedly seemed straightforward: The secular conduct and
the religious conduct prohibited by the Oregon criminal statute
were identical. But things are not always that simple.
Cases involving rules designed to slow the
spread of COVID–19 have driven that point home. State and local
rules adopted for this purpose have typically imposed different
restrictions for different categories of activities. Sometimes
religious services have been placed in a category with certain
secular activities, and sometimes religious services have been
given a separate category of their own. To determine whether
COVID–19 rules provided neutral treatment for religious and secular
conduct, it has been necessary to compare the restrictions on
religious services with the restrictions on secular activities that
present a comparable risk of spreading the virus, and identifying
the secular activities that should be used for comparison has been
hotly contested.
In
South Bay United Pentecostal Church
v
. Newsom, 590 U. S. ___ (2020), where the Court
refused to enjoin restrictions on religious services, The Chief
Justice’s concurrence likened religious services to lectures,
concerts, movies, sports events, and theatrical performances.
Id., at ___ (slip op., at 2). The dissenters, on the other
hand, focused on “supermarkets, restaurants, factories, and
offices.”
Id., at ___ (opinion of Kavanaugh, J., joined by
Thomas and Gorsuch, JJ.) (slip op., at 3).
In
Calvary Chapel Dayton Valley v
.
Sisolak, 591 U. S. ___ (2020), Nevada defended a rule
imposing severe limits on attendance at religious services and
argued that houses of worship should be compared with “movie
theaters, museums, art galleries, zoos, aquariums, trade schools,
and technical schools.” Response to Emergency Application for
Injunction, O. T. 2019, No. 19A1070, pp. 7, 14–15. Members of
this Court who would have enjoined the Nevada rule looked to the
State’s more generous rules for casinos, bowling alleys, and
fitness facilities. 591 U. S., at ___–___ (Alito, J., joined
by Thomas and Kavanaugh, JJ., dissenting) (slip op., at 6–7).
In
Roman Catholic Diocese of Brooklyn,
592 U. S. ___, Justices in the majority compared houses of
worship with large retail establishments, factories, schools,
liquor stores, bicycle repair shops, and pet shops,
id., at
___ (slip op., at 3);
id., at ___ (Gorsuch, J., concurring)
(slip op., at 2),
id., at ___ (Kavanaugh, J., concurring)
(slip op., at 2), while dissenters cited theaters and concert
halls,
id., at ___ (opinion of Sotomayor, J., joined by
Kagan, J.) (slip op., at 2).
In
Danville Christian Academy, Inc. v
.
Beshear, 592 U. S. ___ (2020), the District Court enjoined
enforcement of an executive order that compelled the closing of a
religiously affiliated school, reasoning that the State permitted
pre-schools, colleges, and universities to stay open and also
allowed attendance at concerts and lectures.
Danville Christian
Academy, Inc. v
. Beshear, ___ F. Supp. 3d ___, 2020
WL 6954650, *4 (ED Ky., Nov. 25, 2020). The Sixth Circuit reversed,
concluding that the rule was neutral and generally applicable
because it applied to all elementary and secondary schools, whether
secular or religious.
Kentucky ex rel. Danville
Christian Academy, Inc. v
. Beshear, 981 F.3d 505, 509
(2020).
Much of
Smith’s initial appeal was likely
its apparent simplicity.
Smith seemed to offer a relatively
simple and clear-cut rule that would be easy to apply. Experience
has shown otherwise.
D
Subsequent developments. Developments
since
Smith provide additional reasons for changing course.
The
Smith majority thought that adherence to
Sherbert
would invite “anarchy,” 494 U. S., at 888, but experience has
shown that this fear was not well founded. Both RFRA and RLUIPA
impose essentially the same requirements as
Sherbert, and we
have observed that the courts are well “up to the task” of applying
that test.
Gonzales v.
O Centro Espírita Beneficente
União do Vegetal,
546 U.S.
418, 436 (2006). See also
Cutter v
. Wilkinson,
544 U.S.
709, 722 (2005) (noting “no cause to believe” the test could
not be “applied in an appropriately balanced way”).
Another significant development is the
subsequent profusion of studies on the original meaning of the Free
Exercise Clause. When
Smith was decided, the available
scholarship was thin, and the Court received no briefing on the
subject. Since then, scholars have explored the subject in great
depth.[
81]
* * *
Multiple factors strongly favor overruling
Smith. Are there countervailing factors?
E
None is apparent. Reliance is often the
strongest factor favoring the retention of a challenged precedent,
but no strong reliance interests are cited in any of the numerous
briefs urging us to preserve
Smith. Indeed, the term is
rarely even mentioned.
All that the City has to say on the subject is
that overruling
Smith would cause “substantial regulatory
. . . disruption” by displacing RFRA, RLUIPA, and related
state laws, Brief for City Respondents 51 (internal quotation marks
omitted), but this is a baffling argument. How would overruling
Smith disrupt the operation of laws that were enacted to
abrogate
Smith?
One of the City’s
amici, the New York
State Bar Association, offers a different reliance argument. It
claims that some individuals, relying on
Smith, have moved
to jurisdictions with anti-discrimination laws that do not permit
religious exemptions. Brief for New York State Bar Association as
Amicus Curiae 11. The bar association does not cite any
actual examples of individuals who fall into this category, and
there is reason to doubt that many actually exist.
For the hypothesized course of conduct to make
sense, all of the following conditions would have to be met. First,
it would be necessary for the individuals in question to believe
that a religiously motivated party in the jurisdiction they left or
avoided might engage in conduct that harmed them. Second, this
conduct would have to be conduct not already protected by
Smith in that it (a) did not violate a generally applicable
state law, (b) that law did not allow individual exemptions, and
(c) there was insufficient proof of religious targeting. Third, the
feared conduct would have to fall outside the scope of RLUIPA.
Fourth, the conduct, although not protected by
Smith, would
have to be otherwise permitted by local law, for example, through a
state version of RFRA. Fifth, this fear of harm at the hands of a
religiously motivated actor would have to be a but-for cause of the
decision to move. Perhaps there are individuals who fall into the
category that the bar association hypothesizes, but we should not
allow violations of the Free Exercise Clause in perpetuity based on
such speculation.
Indeed, even if more substantial reliance could
be shown,
Smith’s dubious standing would weigh against
giving this factor too much weight.
Smith has been embattled
since the day it was decided, and calls for its reexamination have
intensified in recent years. See
Masterpiece Cakeshop, 584
U. S., at ___ (Gorsuch, J., joined by Alito, J., concurring)
(slip op., at 1);
Kennedy, 586 U. S., at ___–___
(Alito, J., joined by Thomas, Gorsuch, and Kavanaugh, JJ.,
concurring in denial of certiorari) (slip op., at 5–6);
City of
Boerne 521 U. S., at 566 (Breyer, J., dissenting) (“[T]he
Court should direct the parties to brief the question whether
[
Smith] was correctly decided”);
id., at 565
(O’Connor, J., joined by Breyer, J., dissenting) (“[I]t is
essential for the Court to reconsider its holding in
Smith”);
Lukumi, 508 U. S., at 559 (Souter, J.,
concurring in part and concurring in judgment) (“[I]n a case
presenting the issue, the Court should reexamine the rule
Smith declared”). Thus, parties have long been on notice
that the decision might soon be reconsidered. See
Janus, 585
U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 45).
* * *
Smith was wrongly decided. As long as
it remains on the books, it threatens a fundamental freedom. And
while precedent should not lightly be cast aside, the Court’s error
in
Smith should now be corrected.
VI
A
If
Smith is overruled, what legal
standard should be applied in this case? The answer that comes most
readily to mind is the standard that
Smith replaced: A law
that imposes a substantial burden on religious exercise can be
sustained only if it is narrowly tailored to serve a compelling
government interest.
Whether this test should be rephrased or
supplemented with specific rules is a question that need not be
resolved here because Philadelphia’s ouster of CSS from foster care
work simply does not further any interest that can properly be
protected in this case. As noted, CSS’s policy has not hindered any
same-sex couples from becoming foster parents, and there is no
threat that it will do so in the future.
CSS’s policy has only one effect: It expresses
the idea that same-sex couples should not be foster parents because
only a man and a woman should marry. Many people today find this
idea not only objectionable but hurtful. Nevertheless, protecting
against this form of harm is not an interest that can justify the
abridgment of First Amendment rights.
We have covered this ground repeatedly in free
speech cases. In an open, pluralistic, self-governing society, the
expression of an idea cannot be suppressed simply because some find
it offensive, insulting, or even wounding. See
Matal v.
Tam, 582 U. S. ___, ___–___ (2017) (slip op., at 1–2)
(“Speech may not be banned on the ground that it expresses ideas
that offend”);
Hurley, 515 U. S., at 579 (“[T]he law
. . . is not free to interfere with speech for no better
reason than promoting an approved message or discouraging a
disfavored one, however enlightened either purpose may strike the
government”);
Johnson, 491 U. S., at 414 (“If there is
a bedrock principle underlying the First Amendment, it is that the
government may not prohibit the expression of an idea simply
because society finds the idea itself offensive or disagreeable”);
FCC v.
Pacifica Foundation,
438
U.S. 726, 745 (1978) (opinion of Stevens, J.) (“[T]he fact that
society may find speech offensive is not a sufficient reason for
suppressing it. Indeed, if it is the speaker’s opinion that gives
offense, that consequence is a reason for according it
constitutional protection”);
Street v.
New York,
394 U.S.
576, 592 (1969) (“[T]he public expression of ideas may not be
prohibited merely because the ideas are themselves offensive to
some of their hearers”); Cf.
Coates v.
Cincinnati,
402 U.S.
611, 615 (1971) (“Our decisions establish that mere public
intolerance or animosity cannot be the basis for abridgment of
. . . constitutional freedoms”).
The same fundamental principle applies to
religious practices that give offense. The preservation of
religious freedom depends on that principle. Many core religious
beliefs are perceived as hateful by members of other religions or
nonbelievers. Proclaiming that there is only one God is offensive
to polytheists, and saying that there are many gods is anathema to
Jews, Christians, and Muslims. Declaring that Jesus was the Son of
God is offensive to Judaism and Islam, and stating that Jesus was
not the Son of God is insulting to Christian belief. Expressing a
belief in God is nonsense to atheists, but denying the existence of
God or proclaiming that religion has been a plague is infuriating
to those for whom religion is all-important.
Suppressing speech—or religious practice—simply
because it expresses an idea that some find hurtful is a zero-sum
game. While CSS’s ideas about marriage are likely to be
objectionable to same-sex couples, lumping those who hold
traditional beliefs about marriage together with racial bigots is
insulting to those who retain such beliefs. In
Obergefell
v
. Hodges, 576 U.S. 644 (2015), the majority made a
commitment. It refused to equate traditional beliefs about
marriage, which it termed “decent and honorable,”
id., at
672, with racism, which is neither. And it promised that
“religions, and those who adhere to religious doctrines, may
continue to advocate with utmost, sincere conviction that, by
divine precepts, same-sex marriage should not be condoned.”
Id., at 679. An open society can keep that promise while
still respecting the “dignity,” “worth,” and fundamental equality
of all members of the community.
Masterpiece Cakeshop, 584
U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 9).
B
One final argument must be addressed.
Philadelphia and many of its
amici contend that preservation
of the City’s policy is not dependent on
Smith. They argue
that the City is simply asserting the right to control its own
internal operations, and they analogize CSS to either a City
employee or a contractor hired to perform an exclusively
governmental function.
This argument mischaracterizes the relationship
between CSS and the City. The members of CSS’s staff are not City
employees; the power asserted by the City goes far beyond a refusal
to enter into a contract; and the function that CSS and other
private foster care agencies have been performing for decades has
not historically been an exclusively governmental function. See,
e.g., Leshko v.
Servis,
423 F.3d 337, 343–344 (CA3 2005) (“No aspect of providing care
to foster children in Pennsylvania has ever been the exclusive
province of the government”);
Rayburn v.
Hogue,
241 F.3d 1341, 1347 (CA11 2001) (acknowledging that foster care
is not traditionally an exclusive state prerogative);
Milburn v.
Anne Arundel Cty. Dept. of Social Servs.,
871 F.2d 474, 479 (CA4 1989) (same);
Malachowski v.
Keene, 787 F.2d 704, 711 (CA1 1986) (same); see also
Ismail v.
County of Orange, 693 Fed. Appx. 507, 512
(CA9 2017) (concluding that foster parents were not state actors).
On the contrary, States and cities were latecomers to this field,
and even today, they typically leave most of the work to private
agencies.
The power that the City asserts is essentially
the power to deny CSS a license to continue to perform work that it
has carried out for decades and that religious groups have
performed since time immemorial. Therefore, the cases that provide
the basis for the City’s argument—such as
Garcetti v.
Ceballos,
547 U.S.
410 (2006), and
Board of Comm’rs, Wabounsee Cty. v.
Umbehr,
518 U.S.
668 (1996)—are far afield. A government cannot “reduce a
group’s First Amendment rights by simply imposing a licensing
requirement.”
National Institute of Family and Life
Advocates v.
Becerra, 585 U. S. ___, ___ (2018)
(slip op., at 14).
* * *
For all these reasons, I would overrule
Smith and reverse the decision below. Philadelphia’s
exclusion of CSS from foster care work violates the Free Exercise
Clause, and CSS is therefore entitled to an injunction barring
Philadelphia from taking such action.
After receiving more than 2,500 pages of
briefing and after more than a half-year of post-argument
cogitation, the Court has emitted a wisp of a decision that leaves
religious liberty in a confused and vulnerable state. Those who
count on this Court to stand up for the First Amendment have every
right to be disappointed—as am I.