1 Constitutional Law 1 Constitutional Law

1.1 Part I Structural Constitutional Principles 1.1 Part I Structural Constitutional Principles

1.1.1 Marbury v. Madison 1.1.1 Marbury v. Madison

WILLIAM MARBURY v. JAMES MADISON, Secretary of State of the United States.

FEBRUARY, 1803.

At the last term, viz. December term, 1801, William Marbury, Dennis Ramsay, Robert Townsend Hooe, and William Harper, by their counsel, Charles Lee, esq. late attorney general of the United States, *138severally moved the court for a rule to James Madison, secretary of state of the United States, to shew cause why a mandamus should not issue commanding him to cause to be delivered to them respectively their several commissions as justices of the peace in the district of Columbia. This motion was supported by affidavits of the following facts; that notice of this motion had been given to Mr. Madison; that Mr. Adams, the late presi-of the United States, nominated the applicants to the senate for their advice and consent to be appointed justices of the peace of the district of Columbia; that the senate advised and consented to the appointments; that commissions in due form were signed by the said president appointing them justices, &c. and that the seal of the United States was in due form affixed to the said commissions by the secretary of state ; that the applicants have requested Mr. Madison to deliver them their said commissions, who has not complied with that request; and that their said commissions are withheld from them; that the applicants have made application to Mr. Madison as secretary of state of the United States at his office, for information whether the commissions were signed and sealed as aforesaid; that explicit and satisfactory information has not been given in answer to that enquiry, either by the secretary of state or any officer in the department of state; that application has been made to the secretary of the Senate for a certificate of the nomination of the applicants, and of the advice and consent of the senate, who has declined giving such a certificate; whereupon a rule was laid to shew cause on the 4th day of this term. This rule having been duly served,

The supreme court of the U. States has not power to issue a mandamus to a secretary of state of the U. States, it being an exercise of original jurisdiction not warranted by the constitution. Congress have not power to give original jurisdiction to the supreme court in other cases than those described in the constitution An act of congress repugnant to the constitution can not become a law. The courts of the U. States are bound to take notice of the constitution. A commission is not necessary to the appointment of an officer by the executive-Semb. A commission is only evidence of an appointment. Delivery is not neccessary to the validity of letters patent. The President cannot authorize a secretary of state to omit the performa*139nce enjoined by law.

*138Mr. Lee, in support of the rule,

observed that it was important to know on what ground a justice of peace in the district of Columbia holds his office, and what proceedings are necessary to constitute an appointment to an office not held at the will of the president. However notorious the facts are, upon the suggestion of which this rule has been laid, yet the applicants have been much embarrassed in obtaining evidence of them. Reasonable information has been denied at the office of the department of state. Although a respectful memorial has been made to the senate praying them to suffer their secretary to give extracts from their executive journals re*139specting the nomination of the applicants to the senate, and of their advice and consent to the appointments, yet their request has been denied, and their petition rejected. They have therefore been compelled to summon witnesses to attend in court, whose voluntary affidavits they could not obtain. Mr. Lee here read the affidavit of Dennis Ramsay, and the printed journals of the senate of 31 January, 1803, respecting the refusal of the senate to suffer their secretary to give the information requested. He then called Jacob Wagner and Daniel Brent, who had been summoned to attend the court, and who had, as it is understood, declined giving a voluntary affidavit. They objected to being sworn, alleging that they were clerks in the department of state and not bound to disclose any facts relating to the business or transactions in the office.

A justice of peace in the district of Columbia is not removeable at the will of the President When a commission for an office not holding his officer at the will of the President, is by him signed and transmitted to the secretary of state to be sealed and recorded, it is irrevocable; the appointment is complete. A mandamus is the proper remedy to compel a secretary of state to deliver a commission to which the party is intitled.

Mr. Lee observed, that to shew the propriety of examining these witnesses, he would make a few remarks on the nature of the office of secretary of state. His duties are of two kinds, and he exercises his functions in two distinct capacities ; as a public ministerial officer of the United States, and as agent of the President. In the first his duty is to the United States or its citizens ; in the other his duty is to the President; in the one he is an independent, and an accountable officer ; in the other he is dependent upon the President, is his agent, and accountable to him alone. In the former capacity he is compellable by mandamus to do his duty ; in the latter he is not. This distinction is clearly pointed out by the two acts of congress upon this subject. The first was passed 27th July, 1789, vol. 1. p. 339, entitled “ an act for establishing an executive department, to be denominated the department of foreign affairs.” The first section ascertains the duties of the secretary so far as he is considered as a mere executive agent. It is in these words, “ Be it “ enacted, &c. that there shall be an executive depart- “ ment, to be denominated the department of foreign af- “ fairs, and that there shall be a principal officer therein, to be called the secretary of the department of foreign affairs, who shall perform and execute such duties as “ shall from time to time be enjoined on, or intrusted to him by the President of the United States, agreeable “ to the constitution, relative to correspondencies, com- *140“ missions or instructions to or with public ministers or “ consuls from the United States; or to negociations with public ministers from foreign states or princes, or to “ memorials or other applications from foreign public mi- “ nisters, or other foreigners, or to such other matters “ respecting foreign affairs as the President of the United “ States shall assign to the said department ; and further- more, that the said principal officer shall conduct the “ business of the said department in such manner as the President of the United States shall from time to time a “ order or instruct.”

The second section provides for the appointment of a chief clerk ; the third section prescribes the oath to be taken which is simply, “ well and faithfully to execute the “ trust committed to him;” and the fourth and last section gives him the custody of the books and papers of the department of foreign affairs under the old congress. Respecting the powers given and the duties imposed by this act, no mandamus will lie. The secretary is responsible only to the President. The other act of congress respecting this department was passed at the same session on the 15th September 1789, vol. 1, p. 41, c. 14, and is entitled “ An act to provide for the safe keeping of the “ acts, records, and seal of the United States, and for other purposes.” The first section changes the name of the department and of the secretary, calling the one the department and the other the secretary of state. The second section assigns new duties to the secretary, in the performance of which it is evident, from their nature, he cannot be lawfully controlled by the president, and for the non-performance of which he is not more responsible to the president than to any other citizen of the United States. It provides that he shall receive from the president all bills, orders, resolutions and votes of the senate and house of representatives, which shall have been approved and signed by him, and shall cause them to be published, and printed copies to be delivered to the senators and representatives and to the executives of the several states ; and makes it his duty carefully to preserve the originals ; and to cause them to be recorded in books to be provided for that purpose. The third section provides a seal of the United States. The fourth makes it his duty to keep the said seal, and to make out and record, and to affix the seal of the United States to all civil commissions, after they *141shall have been signed by the President. The fifth section provides for seal of office, and that all copies of record and papers in his office, authenticated under that seal shall be as good evidence as the originals. The sixth section establishes fees for copies, &c. The seventh and last section gives him the custody of the papers of the office of the secretary of the old congress. Most of the duties assigned by this act are of a public nature, and the secretary is bound to perform them, without the control of any person. The President has no right to prevent him from receiving the bills, orders, resolutions and votes of the legislature, or from publishing and distributing them, or from preserving or recording them. While the secretary remains in office the President cannot take from his custody the seal of the United States, nor prevent him from recording, and affixing the seal to civil commissions of such officers as hold not their offices at the will of the President, after he has signed them and delivered them to the secretary for that purpose. By other laws he is to make out and record in his office patents for useful discoveries, and patents of lands granted under the authority of the United States. In the performance of all these duties he is a public ministerial officer of the United States. And the duties being enjoined upon him by law, he is, in executing them, uncontrolable by the President; and if he neglects or refuses to perform them, he may be compelled by mandamus, in the same manner as other persons holding offices under the authority of the United States. The President is no party to this case. The secretary is called upon to perform a duty over which the President has no control, and in regard to which he has no dispensing power, and for the neglect of which he is in no manner responsible. The secretary alone is the person to whom they are entrusted, and he alone is answerable for their due performance. The secretary of state, therefore, being in the same situation, as to these duties, as every other ministerial officer of the United States, and equally liable to be compelled to perform them, is also bound by the same rules of evidence. These duties are not of a confidential nature, but are of a public kind, and his clerks can have no exclusive privileges. There are undoubtedly facts, which may come to their knowledge by means of their connexion with the secretary of state, respecting which *142they cannot be bound to answer. Such are the facts concerning foreign correspondencies, and confidential communications between the head of the department and the President. This however, can be no objection to their being sworn, but may be a ground of objection to any particular question. Suppose I claim title to land under a patent from the United States. I demand a copy of it from the secretary of state. He refuses. Surely he may be compelled by mandamus to give it. But in order to obtain a mandamus, I must shew that the patent is recorded in his office. My case would be hard indeed if I could not call upon the clerks in the office to give evidence of that fact. Again, suppose a private act of congress had passed for my benefit. It becomes necessary for me to have the use of that act in a court of law. I apply for a copy. I am refused. Shall I not be permitted, on a motion for a mandamus, to call upon the clerks in the office to prove that such an act is among the rolls of the office, or that it is duly recorded ? Surely it cannot be contended that although the laws are to be recorded, yet no access is to be had to the records, and no benefit to result therefrom.

The court ordered the witnesses to be sworn and their answers taken in writing, but informed them that when the questions were asked they might state their objections to answering each particular question, if they had any.

Mr. Wagner being examined upon interrogatories, testified, that at this distance of time he could not recollect whether he had seen any commission in the office, constituting the applicants, or either of them justices of the peace. That Mr Marbury and Mr. Ramsay called on the secretary of state respecting their commissions. That the secretary referred them to him ; he took them into another room and mentioned to them, that two of the commissions had been signed, but the other had not. That he did not know that fact of his own knowledge, but by the information of others. Mr. Wagner declined answering the question “ who gave him that information and the court decided that he was not bound to answer it, because it was not pertinent to this cause. He further testified that some of the commissions of the justices, but he believed not all, were recorded. He did not know whether the commissions of the applicants were *143recorded, as he had not had recourse to the book for more than twelve months past.

Mr. Daniel Brent testified

that he did not remember certainly the names of any of the persons in the commissions of justices of the peace signed by Mr. Adams ; but believed, and was almost certain, that Mr. Marbury’s and col. Hooe’s commissions were made out, and that Mr. Ramsay’s was not; that he made out the list of names by which the clerk who filled up the commissions was guided; he believed that the name of Mr. Ramsay was pretermitted by mistake, but to the best of his knowledge it contained the names of the other two ; he believed none of the commissions for justices of the peace signed by Mr. Adams, were recorded. After the commissions for justices of the peace were made out, he carried them to Mr. Adams for his signature. After being signed he carried them back to the secretary’s office, where the seal of the United States was affixed to them. That commissions are not usually delivered out of the office before they are recorded ; but sometimes they are, and a note of them only is taken, and they are recorded afterwards. He believed none of those commissions of justices were ever sent out, or delivered to the persons for whom they were intended; he did not know what became of them, nor did he know that they are now in the office of the secretary of state.

Mr. Lincoln, attorney general,

having been summoned, and now called, objected to answering. He requested that the questions might be put in writing, and that he might afterwards have time to determine whether he would answer. On the one hand he respected the jurisdiction of this court, and on the other he felt himself bound to maintain the rights of the executive. He was acting as secretary of state at the time when this transaction happened. He was of opinion, and his opinion was supported by that of others whom he highly respected, that he was not bound, and ought not to answer, as to any facts which came officially to his knowledge while acting as secretary of state.

The questions being written were then read and handed to him. He repeated the ideas he had before suggested, and said his objections were of two kinds.

*1441st. He did not think himself bound to disclose his official transactions while acting as secretary of state; and

2d. He ought not to be compelled to answer any thing which might tend to criminate himself.

Mr. Lee, in reply,

repeated the substance of the observations he had before made in answer to the objections of Mr. Wagner and Mr. Brent. He stated that the duties of a secretary of state were two-fold. In discharging one part of those duties he acted as a public ministerial officer of the United States, totally independent of the President, and that as to any facts which came officially to his knowledge, while acting in this capacity, he was as much bound to answer as a marshal, a collector, or any other ministerial officer. But that in the discharge of the other part of his duties, he did not act as a public, ministerial officer, but in the capacity of an agent of the President, bound to obey his orders, and accountable to him for his conduct. And that as to any facts which came officially to his knowledge in the discharge of this part of his duties, he was not bound to answer. He agreed that Mr. Lincoln was not bound to disclose any thing which might tend to criminate himself.

Mr. Lincoln thought it was going a great way to say that every secretary of state should at all times be liable to be called upon to appear as a witness in a court of justice, and testify to facts which came to his knowledge officially. He felt himself delicately situated between his duty to this court, and the duty he conceived he owed to an executive department; and hoped the court would give him time to consider of the subject.

The court said, that if Mr. Lincoln wished time to consider what answers he should make, they would give him time; but they had no doubt he ought to answer. There was nothing confidential required to be disclosed. If there had been he was not obliged to answer it; and if he thought that any thing was communicated to him in confidence he was not bound to disclose it; nor was he obliged to state any thing which would criminate himself ; but that the fact whether such commissions had been in the office or not, could not be a confidential fact ; it *145is a fact which all the world have a right to know. If he thought any of the questions improper, he might state his objections.

Mr. Lincoln then prayed time till the next day to consider of his answers under this opinion of the court.

The court granted it and postponed further consideration of the cause till the next day.

At the opening of the court on the next morning, Mr. Lincoln said he had no objection to answering the questions proposed, excepting the last which he did not think himself obliged to answer fully. The question was, what had been done with the commissions. He had no hesitation in saying that he did not know that they ever came to the possession of Mr. Madison, nor did he know that they were in the office when Mr. Madison took possession of it. He prayed the opinion of the court whether he was obliged to disclose what had been done with the commissions.

The court were of opinion that he was not bound to say what had become of them; if they never came to the possession of Mr. Madison, it was immaterial to the present cause, what had been done with them by others.

To the other questions he answered that he had seen commissions of justices of the peace of the district of Columbia, signed by Mr. Adams, and sealed with the seal of the United States. He did not recollect whether any of them constituted Mr. Marbury, col. Hooe, or col. Ramsay, justices of the peace ; there were when he went into the office several commissions for justices of peace of the district made out; but he was furnished with a list of names to be put into a general commission, which was done, and was considered as superseding the particular commissions ; and the individuals whose names were contained in this general commission were informed of their being thus appointed. He did not know that any one of the commissions was ever sent to the person for whom it was made out, and did not believe that any one had been sent.

*146Mr. Lee then read the affidavit of James Marshall, who had been also summoned as a witness. It stated that on the 4th of March 1801, having been informed by some person from Alexandria that there was reason to apprehend riotous proceedings in that town on that night, he was induced to return immediately home, and to call at the office of the secretary of state, for the commissions of the justices of the peace that as many as 2, as he believed, commissions of justices for that county were delivered to him for which he gave a receipt, which he left in the office. That finding he could not conveniently carry the whole, he returned several of them, and struck a pen through the names of those, in the receipt, which he returned. Among the commissions so returned, according to the best of his knowledge and belief, was one for colonel Hooe, and one for William Harper.

Mr. Lee then observed, that having proved the existence of the commissions, he should confine such further remarks as he had to make in support of the rule to three questions:

1st. Whether the supreme court can award the writ of mandamus in any case.

2d. Whether it will lie to a secretary of state in any case whatever.

3d Whether in the present case the court may award a mandamus to James Madison, secretary of state.

The argument upon the 1st question is derived not only from the principles and practice of that country, from whence we derive many of the principles of our political institutions, but from the constitution and laws of the United States.

This is the supreme court, and by reason of its supremacy must have the superintendance of the inferior tribunals and officers, whether judicial or ministerial. In this respect there is no difference between a judicial and a ministerial officer. From this principle alone the court of king's bench in England derives the power of issuing the writs of mandamus and prohibition. 3. Inst. 70, 71. *147Shall it be said the court of king's bench has this power in consequene of its being the supreme court of judicature, and shall we deny it to this court which the constitution makes the supreme court? It is a beneficial and a necessary power; and it can never be applied where there is another adequate, specific, legal remedy.

The second section of the third article of the constitution gives this court appellate jurisdiction in all cases in law and equity arising under the constitution and laws of the United States (except the cases in which it has original jurisdiction) with such exceptions, and under such regulations as congress shall make. The term “ appellate jurisdiction” is to be taken in its largest sense, and implies in its nature the right of superintending the inferior tribunals.

Proceedings in nature of appeals are of various kinds, according to the subject matter. 3 Bl. com. 402. It is a settled and invariable principle, that every right, when withheld, must have a remedy, and every injury its proper redress. 3 Bl. com. 109. There are some injuries which can only be redressed by a writ of mandamus, and others by a writ of prohibition. There must then be a jurisdiction some where competent to issue that kind of process. Where are we to look for it but in that court which the constitution and laws have made supreme, and to which they have given appellate jurisdiction ? Blakstone, vol. 3, p. 110. says that a writ of mandamus is “ a command issuing in the king’s name “ from the court of king’s bench, and directed to any “ person, corporation or inferior court, requiring them “ to do some particular thing therein specified, which appertains to their office and duty, and which the court “ has previously determined, or at least supposes, to be “ consonant to right and justice. It is a writ of a most “ extensively remedial nature, and issues in all cases where “ the party has a right to have any thing done, and has no other specific means of compelling its performance.”

In the Federalist, vol. 2, p. 239, it is said, that the word “ appellate” is not to be taken in its technical sense, as used in reference to appeals in the course of the civil law, but in its broadest sense, in which it denotes nothing more than the power of one tribunal to review the pro*148ceedings of another, either as to law or fact, or both. The writ of mandamus is if the nature of an appeal as to fact as well as law. It is competent for congress to prescribe the forms of process by which the supreme court shall exercise its appellate jurisdiction, and they may well declare a mandamus to be one. But the power does not depend upon implication alone. It has been recognised by legislative provision as well as in judicial decisions in this court.

Congress, by a law passed at the very first session after the adoption of the constitution, vol. 1. p. 58, sec. 13, have expressly given the supreme court the power of issuing writs of mandamus. The words are, “ The supreme “court shall also of mandamus have appellate jurisdiction from cir- “ cuit courts, and courts of the several states, in the cases “ herein after specially provided for ; and shall have power “ to issue writs of prohibition to the district courts, when “ proceeding as courts of admiralty and maritime juris- “ diction ; and writs of mandamus, in cases warranted by “ the principles and usages of law, to any courts appoint- “ ed, or persons holding office, under the authority of the “ United States.”

Congress is not restrained from conferring original jurisdiction in other cases than those mentioned in the constitution. 2 Dal. Rep. 298.

This court has entertained jurisdiction on a mandamus in one case, and on a prohibition in another. In the case of the United States v. judge Lawrence, 3. Dal. Rep. 42, a mandamus was moved for by the attorney general at the instance of the French minister, to compel judge Lawrence to issue a warrant against captain Barre, commander of the French ship of war Le Perdrix, grounded on an article of the consular convention with France. In this case the power of the court to issue writs of mandamus, was taken for granted in the arguments of counsel on both sides, and seems to have been so considered by the court. The mandamus was refused, because the case in which it was required, was not a proper one to support the motion. In the case of the United States v. judge Peters a writ of prohibition was granted, 3. Dal. Rep. 121, 129. This was the celebrated case of the French *149corvette the Cassius, which afterwards became a subject of diplomatic controversy between the two nations. On the 5th Feb. 1794, a motion was made to the supreme court in behalf of one John Chandler, a citizen of Connecticut, for a mandamus to the secretary at war, commanding him to place Chandler on the invalid pension list. After argument, the court refused the mandamus, because the two acts of congress respecting invalids, did not support the case on which the applicant grounded his motion. The case of the United States v. Hopkins, at February term, 1794, was a motion for a mandamus to Hopkins, loan officer for the district of Virginia, to command him to admit a person to subscribe to the United States loan. Upon argument the mandamus was refused because the applicant had not sufficiently established his title. In none of these cases, nor in any other, was the power of this court to issue a mandamus ever denied, Hence it appears there has been a legislative construction of the constitution upon this point, and a judicial practice under it, for the whole time since the formation of the government.

2d. The second point is, can a mandamus go to a secretary of state in any case? It certainly cannot in all cases; nor to the President in any case. It may not be proper to mention this position; but I am compelled to do it. An idea has gone forth, that a mandamus to a secretary of state is equivalent to a mandamus to the President of the United States. I declare it to be my opinion, grounded on a comprehensive view of the subject, that the President is not amenable to any court of judicature for the exercise of his high functions, but is responsible only in the mode pointed out in the constitution. The secretary of state acts, as before observed, in two capacities. As the agent of the President, he is not liable to a mandamus; but as a recorder of the laws of the United States; as keeper of the great seal, as recorder of deeds of land, of letters patent, and of commissions, &c. he is a ministerial officer of the people of the United States. As such he has duties assigned him by law, in the execution of which he is independent of all control, but that of the laws. It is true he is a high officer, but he is not above law. It is not consistent with the policy of our political institutions, or the manners of the citizens of the United States, that any ministerial officer having public duties to perform, *150should be above the compulsion of law in the exercise of note duties. As a ministerial officer he is compellable to do his duty, and if he refuses, is liable to indictment. A prosecution of this kind might be the means of punishing the officer, but a specific civil remedy to the injured party can only be obtained by a writ of mandamus. If a mandamus can be awarded by this court in any case, it may issue to a secretary of state; for the act of congress expressly gives the power to award it, “ in cases warrant- “ ed by the principles and usages of law, to any persons holding offices under the authority of the United States.”

Many cases may be supposed, in which a secretary of state ought to be compelled to perform his duty specifically. By the 5th and 6th sections of the act of congress, vol. 1. p. 43. copies under seal of the office of the department of state are made evidence in courts of law, and fees are given for making them out. The intention of the law must have been, that every person needing a copy should be entitled to it. Suppose the secretary refuses to give a copy, ought he not to be compelled? Suppose I am entitled to a patent for lands purchased of the United States; it is made out and signed by the President who gives a warrant to the secretary to affix the great seal to the patent; he refuses to do it; shall I not have a mandamus to compel him? Suppose the seal is affixed, but the secretary refuses to record it; shall he not be compelled ? Suppose it recorded, and he refuses to deliver it; shall I have no remedy?

In this respect there is no difference between a patent for lands, and the commission of a judicial officer. The duty of the secretary is precisely the same.

Judge Patterson enquired of Mr. Lee whether he understood it to be the duty of the secretary to deliver a commission, unless ordered to to do by the President.

Mr. Lee replied,

that after the President has signed a commission for an office not held at his will, and it comes to the secretary to be sealed, the President has done with it, and nothing remains, but that the secretary perform those ministerial acts which the law imposes upon him. It immediately becomes his duty to seal, record, and de*151liver it on demand. In such a case the appointment becomes complete by the figuring and sealing; and the secretary does wrong if he withholds the commission.

3d. The third point is, whether in the present case a writ of mandamus ought to be awarded to James Madison, secretary of state.

The justices of the peace in the district of Columbia are judicial officers, and hold their office for five years. The office is established by the act of Congress passed the 27th of Feb. 1801, entitled " An act concerning the district of Columbia," ch. 86, sec. 11 and 4; page 271, 273. They are authorized to hold courts and have cognizance of personal demands of the value of 20 dollars. The act of May 3d, 1802, ch. 52, sec. 4, considers them as judicial officers, and provides the mode in which execution shall issue upon their judgments. They hold their offices independent of the will of the President. The appointment of such an officer is complete when the President has nominated him to the senate, and the senate have advised and consented, and the President has signed the commission and delivered it to the secretary to be sealed. The President has then done with it; it becomes irrevocable. An appointment of a judge once completed, is made forever. He holds under the constitution. The requisites to be performed by the secretary are ministerial, ascertained by law, and he has no discretion, but must perform them; there is no dispensing power. In contemplation of law they are as if done.

These justices exercise part of the judicial power of the United States. They ought therefore to be independent. Mr. Lee begged leave again to refer to the Federalist, vol. 2, Nos. 78 and 79, as containing a correct view of this subject. They contained observations and ideas which he wished might be generally read and understood. They contained the principles upon which this branch of our constitution was constructed. It is important to the citizens of this district that the justices should be independent; almost all the authority immediately exercised over them is that of the justices. They wish to know whether the justices of this district are to hold their commissions at the will of a secretary of state.

*152This cause may seem trivial at first view, but it is important in principle. It is for this reason that this court is now troubled with it. The emoluments or the dignity of the office, are no object with the applicants. They conceive themselves to be duly appointed justices of the peace, and they believe it to be their duty to maintain the rights of their office, and not to suffer them to be violated by the hand of power. The citizens of this district have their fears excited by every stretch of power by a person so high in office as the secretary of state.

It only remains now to consider whether a mandamus to compel the delivery of a commission by a public ministerial officer, is one of the " cases warranted by the principles and usages of law.”

It is the general principle of law that a mandamus lies, if there be no other adequate, specific, legal remedy; 3 Burrow, 1067, King v. Barker, and al. This seems to be the result of a view of all the cases on the subject.

The case of Rex. v. Borough of Midhurst, 1. Wils. 283, was a mandamus to compel the presentment of certain conveyances to purchasers of burgage tenements, whereby they would be entitled to vote for members of parliament. In the case of Rex v. Dr. Hay, 1. W. Bl. Rep. 640, a mandamus issued to admit one to administer an estate.

A mandamus gives no right, but only puts the party in a way to try his right. Sid. 286.

It lies to compel a ministerial act which concerns the public. 1. Wilson, 283. 1. Bl. Rep. 640—although there be a more tedious remedy, Str. 1082. 4 Bur. 2188. 2 Bur. 1045 ; So if there be a legal right, and a remedy in equity, 3. Term Rep. 652. A mandamus lies to obtain admission into a trading company. Rex v. Turkey Company, 2 Bur. 1000. Carthew 448. 5 Mod. 402; So it lies to put the corporate seal to an instrument. 4. Term. Rep. 699; to commissioners of the excise to grant a permit, 2 Term. Rep. 381; to admit to an office, 3 Term. Rep. 575; to deliver papers which concern the public, 2 Sid. 31. A mandamus will sometimes lie in a *153doubtful case, 1 Levinz 123, to be further considered on the return, 2 Levinz. 14. 1 Sidersin, 169.

It lies to be admitted a member of a church, 3. Bur. 1265, 1043.

The process is as ancient as the time of Ed. 2d. 1 Levinz 23.

The first writ of mandamus is not peremptory, it only commands the officer to do the thing or shew cause why he should not do it. If the cause returned be sufficient, there is an end of the proceeding, if not, a peremptory mandamus is then awarded.

It is said to be a writ of discretion. But the discretion of a court always means a found, legal discretion, not an arbitrary will. If the applicant makes out a proper case, the court are bound to grant it. They can refuse justice to no man.

On a subsequent day, and before the court had given an opinion, Mr. Lee read the affidavit of Hazen Kimball, who had been a clerk in the office of the Secretary of State, and had been to a distant part of the United States, but whose return was not known to the applicant till after the argument of the case.

It stated that on the third of March, 1801, he was a clerk in the department of state. That there were in the office, on that day, commissions made out and signed by the president, appointing William Marbury a justice of peace for the county of Washington; and Robert T. Hooe a justice of the peace for the county of Alexandria, in the district of Columbia.

Afterwards, on the 24th of February the following opinion of the court was delivered by the chief justice.

Opinion of

the court.

At the last term on the affidavits then read and filed with the clerk, a rule was granted in this case, requiring the secretary of state to shew cause why a mandamus *154should not issue, directing him to deliver to William Marbury his commission as a justice of the peace for the county of Washington in the district of Columbia.

No cause has been shewn, and the present motion is for a mandamus. The peculiar delicacy of this case, the novelty of some of its circumstances, and the real difficulty attending the points which occur in it, require a complete exposition of the principles, on which the opinion to be given by the court, is founded.

These principles have been, on the side of the applicant, very ably argued at the bar. In rendering the opinion of the court, there will be some departure in form, though not in substance, from the points stated in that argument.

In the order in which the court has viewed this subject, the following questions have been considered and decided.

1st. Has the applicant a right to the commission he demands ?

2dly. If he has a right, and that right has been violated, do the laws of his country afford him a remedy?

3dly. If they do afford him a remedy, is it a mandamus issuing from this court?

The first object of enquiry is,

1st. Has the applicant a right to the commission he demands?

His right originates in an act of congress passed in February 1801, concerning the district of Columbia.

After dividing the district into two counties, the 11th section of this law, enacts, “ that there shall be appointed in and for each of the said counties, such number of discreet persons to be justices of the peace as the president of the United States shall, from time to time, think expedient, to continue in office for five years.

*155It appears, from the affidavits, that in compliance with this law, a commission for William Marbury as justice of peace for the country of Washington, was signed by John Adams, then president of the United States; after which the seal of the United States was affixed to it; but the commission has never reached the person for whom it was made out.

In order to determine whether he is entitled to this commission, it becomes necessary to enquire whether he has been appointed to the office. For if he has been appointed, the law continues him in office for five years, and he is entitled to the possession of those evidences of office, which, being completed, became his property.

The 2d section of the 2d article of the constitution, declares, that, “ the president shall nominate, and, by “ and with the advice and consent of the senate, shall “ appoint ambassadors, other public ministers and consuls, “ and all other officers of the United States, whose ap- “ pointments are not otherwise provided for.”

The third section declares, that “ he shall commission “ all the officers of the United States.”

An act of congress directs the secretary of state to keep the seal of the United States, “ to make out and record, and affix the said seal to all civil commissions to officers of the United States, to be appointed by the President, by and with the consent of the senate, or by the President alone; provided that the said seal shall not be affixed to any commission before the same shall have been signed by the President of the United States.”

These are the clauses of the constitution and laws of the United States, which affect this part of the case. They seem to contemplate three distinct operations:

1st, The nomination. This is the sole act of the President, and is completely voluntary.

2d. The appointment. This is also the act of the President, and is also a voluntary act, though it can only be performed by and with the advice and consent of the senate.

*1563d. The commission. To grant a commission to a person appointed, might perhaps be deemed a duty enjoined by the constitution. " He shall," says that instrument, " commission all the officers of the United States."

The acts of appointing to office, and commissioning the person appointed, can scarcely be considered as one and the same; since the power to perform them is given in two separate and distinct sections of the constitution. The distinction between the appointment and the commission will be rendered more apparent, by adverting to that provision in the second section of the second article of the constitution, which authorizes congress " to vest, by law, the appointment of such inferior officers, as they think proper, in the President alone, in the courts of law, or in the heads of departments ;" thus contemplating cases where the law may direct the President to commission an officer appointed by the courts, or by the heads of departments. In such a case, to issue a commission would be apparently a duty distinct from the appointment, the performance of which, perhaps, could not legally be refused.

Although that clause of the constitution which requires the President to commission all the officers of the United States, may never have been applied to officers appointed otherwise than by himself, yet it would be difficult to deny the legislative power to apply it to such cases. Of consequence the constitutional distinction between the appointment to an office and the commission of an officer, who has been appointed, remains the same as if in practice the President had commissioned officers appointed by an authority other than his own.

It follows too, from the existence of this distinction, that, if an appointment was to be evidenced by any public act, other than the commission, the performance of such public act would create the officer; and if he was not removeable at the will of the President, would either give him a right to his commission, or enable him to perform the duties without it.

These observations are premised solely for the purpose of rendering more intelligible those which apply more directly to the particular case under consideration.

*157This is an appointment made by the President, by and with the advice and consent of the senate, and is evidenced by no act but the commission itself. In such a case therefore the commission and the appointment seem inseparable; it being almost impossible to shew an appointment otherwise than by proving the existence of a commission; still the commission is not necessarily the appointment ; though conclusive evidence of it.

But at what stage does it amount to this conclusive evidence ?

The answer to this question seems an obvious one. The appointment being the sole act of the President, must be completely evidenced, when it is shewn that he has done every thing to be performed by him.

Should the commission, instead of being evidence of an appointment, even be considered as constituting the appointment itself; still it would be made when the last act to be done by the President was performed, or, at furthest, when the commission was complete.

The last act to be done by the President, is the signature of the commission. He has then acted on the advice and consent of the senate to his own nomination. The time for deliberation has then passed. He has decided. His judgment, on the advice and consent of the senate concurring with his nomination, has been made, and the officer is appointed. This appointment is evidenced by an open, unequivocal act; and being the last act required from the person making it, necessarily excludes the idea of its being, so far as respects the appointment, an inchoate and incomplete transaction.

Some point of time must be taken when the power of the executive over an officer, not removeable at his will, must cease. That point of time must be when the constitutional power of appointment has been exercised. And this power has been exercised when the last act, required from the person possessing the power, has been performed. This last act is the signature of the commission. This idea seems to have prevailed with the legislature, when the act passed, converting the department *158of foreign affairs into the department of state. By that act it is enacted, that the secretary of state shall keep that seal of the United States, and shall make out and re- " cord, and shall affix the said seal to all civil commissions “ to officers of the United States, to be appointed by the “ President:" "Provided that the said seal shall not be af- “ fixed to any commission, before the same shall have been “ signed by the President of the United States; nor to “ any other instrument or act, without the special war- “ rant of the President therefor.”

The signature is a warrant for affixing the great seal to the commission; and the great seal is only to be affixed to an instrument which is complete. It attests, by an act supposed to be of public notoriety, the verity of the Presidential signature.

It is never to be affixed till the commission is signed, because the signature, which gives force and effect to the commission, is conclusive evidence that the appointment is made.

The commission being signed, the subsequent duty of the secretary of state is prescribed by law, and not to be guided by the will of the President. He is to affix the seal of the United States to the commission, and is to record it.

This is not a proceeding which may be varied, if the judgment of the executive shall suggest one more eligible; but is a precise course accurately marked out by law, and is to be strictly pursued. It is the duty of the secretary of state to conform to the law, and in this he is an officer of the United States, bound to obey the laws. He acts, in this respect, as has been very properly stated at the bar, under the authority of law, and not by the instructions of the President. It is a ministerial act which the law enjoins on 3 particular officer for a particular purpose.

If it should be supposed, that the solemnity of affixing the seal, is necessary not only to the validity of the commission, but even to the completion of an appointment, still when the seal is affixed the appointment is made, and *159the commission is valid. No other solemnity is required by law ; no other act is to be performed on the part of government. All that the executive can do to invest the person with his office, is done; and unless the appointment be then made, the executive cannot make one without the co-operation of others.

After searching anxiously for the principles on which a contrary opinion may be supported, none have been found which appear of sufficient force to maintain the opposite doctrine.

Such as the imagination of the court could suggest, have been very deliberately examined, and after allowing them all the weight which it appears possible to give them, they do not shake the opinion which has been formed.

In considering this question, it has been conjectured that the commission may have been assimilated to a deed, to the validity of which, delivery is essential.

This idea is founded on the supposition that the commission is not merely evidence of an appointment, but is itself the actual appointment; a supposition by no means unquestionable. But for the purpose of examining this objection fairly, let it be conceded, that the principle, claimed for its support, is established.

The appointment being, under the constitution, to be made by the President personally, the delivery of the deed of appointment, if necessary to its completion, must be made by the President also. It is not necessary that the livery should be made personally to the grantee of the office : It never is so made. The law would seem to contemplate that it should be made to the secretary of state, since it directs the secretary to affix the seal to the commission after it shall have been signed by the President. If then the act of livery be necessary to give validity to the commission, it has been delivered when executed and given to the secretary for the purpose of being sealed, recorded, and transmitted to the party.

But in all cases of letters patent, certain solemnities are required by law, which solemnities are the evidences *160of the validity of the instrument. A formal delivery to the person is not among them. In cases of commissions, the sign manual of the President, and the seal of the United States, are those solemnities. This objection therefore does not touch the case.

It has also occurred as possible, and barely possible, that the transmission of the commission, and the acceptance thereof, might be deemed necessary to complete the right of the plaintiff.

The transmission of the commission, is a practice directed by convenience, but not by law. It cannot therefore be necessary to constitute the appointment which must precede it, and which is the mere act of the President. If the executive required that every person appointed to an office, should himself take means to procure his commission, the appointment would not be the less valid on that account. The appointment is the sole act of the President; the transmission of the commission is the sole act of the officer to whom that duty is assigned, and may be accelerated or retarded by circumstances which can have no influence on the appointment. A commission is transmitted to a person already appointed ; not to a person to be appointed or not, as the letter enclosing the commission should happen to get into the post-office and reach him in safety, or to miscarry.

It may have some tendency to elucidate this point, to enquire, whether the possession of the original commission be indispensably necessary to authorize a person, appointed to any office, to perform the duties of that office. If it was necessary, then a loss of the commission would lose the office. Not only negligence, but accident or fraud, fire or theft, might deprive an individual of his office. In such a case, I presume it could not be doubted, but that a copy from the record of the office of the secretary of state, would be, to every intent and purpose, equal to the original. The act of congress has expressly made it so. To give that copy validity, it would not be necessary to prove that the original had been transmitted and afterwards lost. The copy would be complete evidence that the original had existed, and that the appointment had been made, but, not that the original had been transmitted. If indeed it should appear that *161the original had been mislaid in the office of state, that circumstance would not affect the operation of the copy. When all the requisites have been performed which authorize a recording officer to record any instrument whatever, and the order for that purpose has been given, the instrument is, in law, considered as recorded, although the manual labour of inserting it in a book kept for that purpose may not have been performed.

In the case of commissions, the law orders the secretary of state to record them. When therefore they are signed and sealed, the order for their being recorded is given; and whether inserted in the book or not, they are in law recorded.

A copy of this record is declared equal to the original, and the fees, to be paid by a person requiring a copy, are ascertained by law. Can a keeper of a public record, erase therefrom a commission which has been recorded ? Or can he refuse a copy thereof to a person demanding it on the terms prescribed by law ?

Such a copy would, equally with the original, authorize the justice of peace to proceed in the performance of his duty, because it would, equally with the original, attest his appointment.

If the transmission of a commission be not considered as necessary to give validity to an appointment; still less is its acceptance. The appointment is the sole act of the President; the acceptance is the sole act of the officer, and is, in plain common sense, posterior to the appointment. As he may resign, so may he refuse to accept : but neither the one, nor the other, is capable of rendering the appointment a non-entity.

That this is the understanding of the government, is apparent from the whole tenor of its conduct.

A commission bears date, and the salary of the officer commences from his appointment; not from the transmission or acceptance of his commission. When a person, appointed to any office, refuses to accept that office, the successor is nominated in the place of the person who *162has declined to accept, and not in the place of the person who had been previously in office, and had created the original vacancy.

It is therefore decidedly the opinion of the court, that when a commission has been signed by the President, the appointment is made ; and that the commission is complete, when the seal of the United States has been affixed to it by the secretary of state.

Where an officer is removeable at the will of the executive, the circumstance which completes his appointment is of no concern; because the act is at any time revocable; and the commission may be arrested, if still in the office. But when the officer is not removeable at the will of the executive, the appointment is not revocable, and cannot be annulled. It has conferred legal rights which cannot be resumed.

The discretion of the executive is to be exercised until the appointment has been made. But having once made the appointment, his power over the office is terminated in all cases, where, by law, the officer is not removeable by him. The right to the office is then in the person appointed, and he has the absolute, unconditional, power of accepting or rejecting it.

Mr. Marbury, then, since his commission was signed by the President, and sealed by the secretary of state, was appointed; and as the law creating the office, gave the officer a right to hold for five years, independent of the executive, the appointment was not revocable; but vested in the officer legal rights, which are protected by the laws of his country.

To withhold his commission, therefore, is an act deemed by the court not warranted by law, but violative of a vested legal right.

This brings us to the second enquiry ; which is,

2dly. If he has a right, and that right has been violated, do the laws of his country afford him a remedy?

*163The very essence of civil liberty certainly consists in the right of every individual to claim the protection of the laws, whenever he receives an injury. One of the first duties of government is to afford that protection. In Great Britain the king himself is sued in the respectful form of a petition, and he never fails to comply with the judgment of his court.

In the 3d vol. of his commentaries, p. 23, Blackstone states two cases in which a remedy is afforded by mere operation of law.

“In all other cases,” he says, “it is a general and indis-“putable rule, that where there is a legal right, there is “ also a legal remedy by suit or action at law, whenever “that right is invaded.”

And afterwards, p. 109, of the same vol. he says, “I "am next to consider such injuries as are cognizable by “the courts of the common law. And herein I shall for "the present only remark, that all possible injuries what-"soever, that did not fall within the exclusive cognizance “of either the ecclesiastical, military, or maritime tribu-"nals, are for that very reason, within the cognizance "of the common law courts of justice; for it is a settled "and invariable principle in the laws of England, that "every right, when withheld, must have a remedy, and “every injury its proper redress.”

The government of the United States has been emphatically termed a government of laws, and not of men. It will certainly cease to deserve this high appellation, if the laws furnish no remedy for the violation of a vested legal right.

If this obloquy is to be cast on the jurisprudence of our country, it must arise from the peculiar character of the case.

It behoves us then to enquire whether there be in its composition any ingredient which shall exempt it from legal investigation, or exclude the injured party from legal redress. In pursuing this enquiry the first question which presents itself, is, whether this can be arranged *164with that class of cases which come under the description of damnum absque injuria—a loss without an injury.

This description of cases never has been considered, and it is believed never can be considered, as comprehending offices of trust, of honor or of profit. The office of justice of peace in the district of Columbia is such an office; it is therefore worthy of the attention and guardianship of the laws. It has received that attention and guardianship. It has been created by special act of congress, and has been secured, so far as the laws can give security to the person appointed to fill it, for five years. It is not then on account of the worthlessness of the thing pursued, that the injured party can be alleged to be without remedy.

Is it in the nature of the transaction ? Is the act of delivering or withholding a commission to be considered as a mere political act, belonging to the executive department alone, for the performance of which, entire confidence is placed by our constitution in the supreme executive; and for any misconduct respecting which, the injured individual has no remedy.

That there may be such cases is not to be questioned; but that every act of duty, to be performed in any of the great departments of government, constitutes such a case, is not to be admitted.

By the act concerning invalids, passed in June, 1794, vol. 3. p. 112, the secretary at war is ordered to place on the pension list, all persons whose names are contained in a report previously made by him to congress. If he should refuse to do so, would the wounded veteran be without remedy ? Is it to be contended that where the law in precise terms, directs the performance of an act, in which an individual is interested, the law is incapable of securing obedience to its mandate ? Is it on account of the character of the person against whom the complaint is made ? Is it to be contended that the heads of departments are not amenable to the laws of their country ?

Whatever the practice on particular occasions may be, the theory of this principle will certainly never be main*165tained. No act of the legislature confers so extraordinary a privilege, nor can it derive countenance from the doctrines of the common law. After stating that personal injury from the king to a subject is presumed to be impossible, Blackstone, vol. 3. p. 255, says, “but injuries “to the rights of property can scarcely be committed by “the crown without the intervention of its officers; for "whom, the law, in matters of right, entertains no re-“spect or delicacy; but furnishes various methods of de-"tecting the errors and misconduct of those agents, by "whom the king has been deceived and induced to do a “temporary injustice.”

By the act passed in 1796, authorising the sale of the lands above the mouth of Kentucky river (vol. 3d. p. 2991 the purchaser, on paying his purchase money, becomes completely entitled to the property purchased; and on producing to the secretary of state, the receipt of the treasurer upon a certificate required by the law, the president of the United States is authorised to grant him a patent. It is further enacted that all patents shall be countersigned by the secretary of state, and recorded in his office. If the secretary of state should choose to withhold this patent; or the patent being lost, should refuse a copy of it; can it be imagined that the law furnishes to the injured person no remedy?

It is not believed that any person whatever would attempt to maintain such a proposition.

It follows then that the question, whether the legality of an act of the head of a department be examinable in a court of justice or not, must always depend on the nature of that act.

If some acts be examinable, and others not, there must be some rule of law to guide the court in the exercise of its jurisdiction.

In some instances there may be difficulty in applying the rule to particular cases; but there cannot, it is believed, be much difficulty in laying down the rule.

By the constitution of the United States, the President is invested with certain important political powers, in the *166exercise of which he is to use his own discretion, and is accountable only to his country in his political character, and to his own conscience. To aid him in the performance of these duties, he is authorized to appoint certain officers, who act by his authority and in conformity with his orders.

In such cases, their acts are his acts; and whatever opinion may be entertained of the manner in which executive discretion may be used, still there exists, and can exist, no power to control that discretion. The subjects are political. They respect the nation, not individual rights, and being entrusted to the executive, the decision of the executive is conclusive. The application of this remark will be perceived by adverting to the act of congress for establishing the department of foreign affairs. This officer, as his duties were prescribed by that act, is to conform precisely to the will of the President. He is the mere organ by whom that will is communicated. The acts of such an officer, as an officer, can never be examinable by the courts.

But when the legislature proceeds to impose on that officer other duties; when he is directed peremptorily to perform certain acts; when the rights of individuals are dependent on the performance of those acts; he is so far the officer of the law; is amenable to the laws for his conduct; and cannot at his discretion sport away the vested rights of others.

The conclusion from this reasoning is, that where the heads of departments are the political or confidential agents of the executive, merely to execute the will of the President, or rather to act in cases in which the executive possesses a constitutional or legal discretion, nothing can be more perfectly clear than that their acts are only politically examinable. But where a specific duty is assigned by law, and individual rights depend upon the performance of that duty, it seems equally clear that the individual who considers himself injured, has a right to resort to the laws of his country for a remedy.

If this be the rule, let us enquire how it applies to the case under the consideration of the court.

*167The power of nominating to the senate, and the power of appointing the person nominated, are political powers, to be exercised by the President according to his own discretion. When he has made an appointment, he has exercised his whole power, and his discretion has been completely applied to the case. If, by law, the officer be removable at the will of the President, then a new appointment may be immediately made, and the rights of the officer are terminated. But as a fact which has existed cannot be made never to have existed, the appointment cannot be annihilated; and consequently if the officer is by law not removable at the will of the President; the rights he has acquired are protected by the law, and are not resumable by the President. They cannot be extinguished by executive authority, and he has the privilege of asserting them in like manner as if they had been derived from any other source.

The question whether a right has vested or not, is, in its nature, judicial, and must be tried by the judicial authority. It, for example, Mr. Marbury had taken the oaths of a magistrate, and proceeded to act as one; in consequence of which a suit had been instituted against him, in which his defence had depended on his being a magistrate; the validity of his appointment must have been determined by judicial authority.

So, if he conceives that, by virtue of his appointment, he has a legal right, either to the commission which has been made out for him, or to a copy of that commission, it is equally a question examinable in a court, and the decision of the court upon it must depend on the opinion entertained of his appointment.

That question has been discussed, and the opinion is, that the latest point of time which can be taken as that at which the appointment was complete, and evidenced, was when, after the signature of the president, the seal of the United States was affixed to the commission.

It is then the opinion of the court,

1st. That by signing the commission of Mr. Marbury, the president of the United States appointed him a justice *168of peace, for the county of Washington in the district of Columbia; and that the seal of the United States, affixed thereto by the secretary of state, is conclusive testimony of the verity of the signature, and of the completion of the appointment; and that the appointment conferred on him a legal right to the office for the space of five years.

2dly. That, having this legal title to the office, he has a consequent right to the commission; a refusal to deliver which, is a plain violation of that right, for which the laws of his country afford him a remedy.

It remains to be enquired whether,

3dly. He is entitled to the remedy for which he applies. This depends on,

1st. The nature of the writ applied for, and,

2dly. The power of this court.

1st. The nature of the writ.

Blackstone, in the 3d volume of his commentaries, page 110, defines a mandamus to be, “a command is-“suing in the king’s name from the court of king’s bench, "and directed to any person, corporation, or inferior "court of judicature within the king’s dominions, re-"quiring them to do some particular thing therein speci-"fied, which appertains to their office and duty, and “which the court of king’s bench has previously deter-“mined, or at least supposes, to be consonant to right “and justice.”

Lord Mansfield, in 3d Burrows 1266, in the case of the King v. Baker, et al. states with much precision and explicitness the cases in which this writ may be used.

“ Whenever,” says that very able judge, “there is a “right to execute an office, perform a service, or exercise “ a franchise (more especially if it be in a matter of pub-“lic concern, or attended with profit) and a person is “kept out of possession, or dispossessed of such right, and *169"has no other specific legal remedy, this court ought "to assist by mandamus, upon reasons of justice, as the “writ expresses, and upon reasons of public policy, to "preserve peace, order and good government.” In the same case he says, “this writ ought to be used upon all “occasions where the law has established no specific “remedy, and where in justice and good government “there ought to be one.”

In addition to the authorities now particularly cited, many others were relied on at the bar, which show how far the practice has conformed to the general doctrines that have been just quoted.

This writ, if awarded, would be directed to an officer of government, and its mandate to him would be, to use the words of Blackstone, “to do a particular thing “therein specified, which appertains to his office and “duty and which the court has previously determined, “or at least supposes, to be consonant to right and jus-“tice.” Or, in the words of Lord Mansfield, the applicant, in this case, has a right to execute an office of public concern, and is kept out of possession of that right.

These circumstances certainly concur in this case.

Still, to render the mandamus a proper remedy, the officer to whom it is to be directed, must be one to whom, on legal principles, such writ may be directed; and the person applying for it must be without any other specific and legal remedy.

1st. With respect to the officer to whom it would be directed. The intimate political relation, subsisting between the president of the United States and the heads of departments, necessarily renders any legal investigation of the acts of one of those high officers peculiarly irksome, as well as delicate; and excites some hesitation with respect to the propriety of entering into such investigation. Impressions are often received without much reflection or examination, and it is not wonderful that in such a case, as this, the assertion, by an individual, of his legal claims, in a court of justice; to which claims it is the duty of that court to attend; should at first view be considered *170by some, as an attempt to intrude into the cabinet, and to intermeddle with the prerogatives of the executive.

It is scarcely necessary for the court to disclaim all pretensions to such a jurisdiction. An extravagance, so absurd and excessive, could not have been entertained for a moment. The province of the court is, solely, to decide on the rights of individuals, not to enquire how the executive, or executive officers, perform duties in which they have a discretion. Questions, in their nature political, or which are, by the constitution and laws, submitted to the executive, can never be made in this court.

But, if this be not such a question; if so far from being an intrusion into the secrets of the cabinet, it respects a paper, which, according to law, is upon record, and to a copy of which the law gives a right, on the payment of ten cents; if it be no intermeddling with a subject, over which the executive can be considered as having exercised any control; what is there in the exalted station of the officer, which shall bar a citizen from asserting, in a court of justice, his legal rights, or shall forbid a court to listen to the claim; or to issue a mandamus, directing the performance of a duty, not depending on executive discretion, but on particular acts of congress and the general principles of law?

If one of the heads of departments commits any illegal act, under color of his office, by which an individual sustains an injury, it cannot be pretended that his office alone exempts him from being sued in the ordinary mode of proceeding, and being compelled to obey the judgment of the law. How then can his office exempt him from this particular mode of deciding on the legality of his conduct, if the case be such a case as would, were any other individual the party complained of, authorize the process?

It is not by the office of the person to whom the writ is directed, but the nature of the thing to be done that the propriety or impropriety of issuing a mandamus, is to be determined. Where the head of a department acts in a case, in which executive discretion is to be exercised; in which he is the mere organ of executive will; it is *171again repeated, that any application to a court to control, in any respect, his conduct, would be rejected without hesitation.

But where he is directed by law to do a certain act affecting the absolute rights of individuals, in the performance of which he is not placed under the particular direction of the President, and the performance of which, the President cannot lawfully forbid, and therefore is never presumed to have forbidden; as for example, to record a commission, or a patent for land, which has received all the legal solemnities; or to give a copy of such record; in such cases, it is not perceived on what ground the courts of the country are further excused from the duty of giving judgment, that right be done to an injured individual, than if the same services were to be performed by a person not the head of a department.

This opinion seems not now, for the first time, to be taken up in this country.

It must be well recollected that in 1792, an act passed, directing the secretary at war to place on the pension list such disabled officers and soldiers as should be reported to him, by the circuit courts, which act, so far as the duty was imposed on the courts, was deemed unconstitutional; but some of the judges, thinking that the law might be executed by them in the character of commissioners, proceeded to act and to report in that character.

This law being deemed unconstitutional at the circuits, was repealed, and a different system was established; but the question whether those persons, who had been reported by the judges, as commissioners, were entitled, in consequence of that report, to be placed on the pension list, was a legal question, properly determinable in the courts, although the act of placing such persons on the list was to be performed by the head of a department.

That this question might be properly settled, congress passed an act in February, 1793, making it the duty of the secretary of war, in conjunction with the attorney general, to take such measures, as might be necessary to obtain an adjudication of the supreme court of the United *172States on the validity of any such rights, claimed under the act aforesaid.

After the passage of this act, a mandamus was moved for, to be directed to the secretary at war, commanding him to place on the pension list, a person stating himself to be on the report of the judges.

There is, therefore, much reason to believe, that this mode of trying the legal right of the complainant, was deemed by the head of a department, and by the highest law officer of the United States, the most proper which could be selected for the purpose.

When the subject was brought before the court the decision was, not that a mandamus would not lie to the head of a department, directing him to perform an act, enjoined by law, in the performance of which an individual had a vested interest; but that a mandamus ought not to issue in that case—the decision necessarily to be made if the report of the commissioners did not confer on the applicant a legal right.

The judgment in that case, is understood to have decided the merits of all claims of that description; and the persons on the report of the commissioners found it necessary to pursue the mode prescribed by the law subsequent to that which had been deemed unconditional, in order to place themselves on the pension list.

The doctrine, therefore, now advanced, is by no means a novel one.

It is true that the mandamus, now moved for, is not for the performance of an act expressly enjoined by statute.

It is to deliver a commission; on which subject the acts of Congress are silent. This difference is not considered as affecting the case. It has already been stated that the applicant has, to that commission, a vested legal right, of which the executive cannot deprive him. He has been appointed to an office, from which he is not removable at the will of the executive; and being so *173appointed, he has a right to the commission which the secretary has received from the president for his use. The act of congress does not indeed order the secretary of state to send it to him, but it is placed in his hands for the person entitled to it; and cannot be more lawfully withheld by him, than by any other person.

It was at first doubted whether the action of detinue was not a specific legal remedy for the commission which has been withheld from Mr. Marbury; in which case a mandamus would be improper. But this doubt has yielded to the consideration that the judgment in detinue is for the thing itself, or its value. The value of a public office not to be sold, is incapable of being ascertained; and the applicant has a right to the office itself, or to nothing. He will obtain the office by obtaining the commission, or a copy of it from the record.

This, then, is a plain case for a mandamus, either to deliver the commission, or a copy of it from the record ; and it only remains to be enquired,

Whether it can issue from this court.

The act to establish the judicial courts of the United States authorizes the supreme court “to issue writs of “mandamus, in cases warranted by the principles and “usages of law, to any courts appointed, or persons hold-"ing office, under the authority of the United States.”

The secretary of state, being a person holding an office under the authority of the United States, is precisely within the letter of the description; and if this court is not authorized to issue a writ of mandamus to such an officer, it must be because the law is unconstitutional, and therefore absolutely incapable of conferring the authority, and assigning the duties which its words purport to confer and assign.

The constitution vests the whole judicial power of the United States in one supreme court, and such inferior courts as congress shall, from time to time, ordain and establish. This power is expressly extended to all cases arising under the laws of the United States; and consequently, in some form, may be exercised over the present *174case; because the right claimed is given by a law of the United States.

In the distribution of this power it is declared that “the “supreme court shall have original jurisdiction in all “cases affecting ambassadors, other public ministers and “consuls, and those in which a state shall be a party. “In all other cases, the supreme court shall have appellate “jurisdiction.”

It has been insisted, at the bar, that as the original grant of jurisdiction, to the supreme and inferior courts, is general, and the clause, assigning original jurisdiction, to the supreme court, contains no negative or restrictive words; the power remains to the legislature, to assign original jurisdiction to that court in other cases than those specified in the article which has been recited; provided those cases belong to the judicial power of the United States.

If it had been intended to leave it in the discretion of the legislature to apportion the judicial power between the supreme and inferior courts according to the will of that body, it would certainly have been useless to have proceeded further than to have defined the judicial power, and the tribunals in which it should be vested. The subsequent part of the section is mere surplussage, is entirely without meaning, if such is to be the construction. If congress remains at liberty to give this court appellate jurisdiction, where the constitution has declared their jurisdiction shall be original; and original jurisdiction where the constitution has declared it shall be appellate; the distribution of jurisdiction, made in the constitution, is form without substance.

Affirmative words are often, in their operation, negative of other objects than those affirmed; and in this case, a negative or exclusive sense must be given to them or they have no operation at all.

It cannot be presumed that any clause in the constitution is intended to be without effect; and therefore such a construction is inadmissible, unless the words require it.

*175If the solicitude of the convention, respecting our peace with foreign powers, induced a provision that the supreme court should take original jurisdiction in cases which might be supposed to affect them; yet the clause would have proceeded no further than to provide for such cases, if no further restriction on the powers of congress had been intended. That they should have appellate jurisdiction in all other cases, with such exceptions as congress might make, is no restriction; unless the words be deemed exclusive of original jurisdiction.

When an instrument organizing fundamentally a judicial system, divides it into one supreme, and so many inferior courts as the legislature may ordain and establish; then enumerates its powers, and proceeds so far to distribute them, as to define the jurisdiction of the supreme court by declaring the cases in which it shall take original jurisdiction, and that in others it shall take appellate jurisdiction; the plain import of the words seems to be, that in one class of cases its jurisdiction is original, and not appellate; in the other it is appellate, and not original. If any other construction would render the clause inoperative, that is an additional reason for rejecting such other construction, and for adhering to their obvious meaning.

To enable this court then to issue a mandamus, it must be shewn to be an exercise of appellate jurisdiction, or to be necessary to enable them to exercise appellate jurisdiction.

It has been stated at the bar that the appellate jurisdiction may be exercised in a variety of forms, and that if it be the will of the legislature that a mandamus should be used for that purpose, that will must be obeyed. This is true, yet the jurisdiction must be appellate, not original.

It is the essential criterion of appellate jurisdiction, that it revises and corrects the proceedings in a cause already instituted, and does not create that cause. Although, therefore, a mandamus may be directed to courts, yet to issue such a writ to an officer for the delivery of a paper, is in effect the same as to sustain an original action for that paper, and therefore seems not to belong to *176appellate, but to original jurisdiction. Neither is it necessary in such a case as this, to enable the court to exercise its appellate jurisdiction.

The authority, therefore, given to the supreme court, by the act establishing the judicial courts of the United States, to issue writs of mandamus to public officers, appears not to be warranted by the constitution; and it becomes necessary to enquire whether a jurisdiction, so conferred, can be exercised.

The question, whether an act, repugnant to the constitution, can become the law of the land, is a question deeply interesting to the United States; but, happily, not of an intricacy proportioned to its interest. It seems only necessary to recognise certain principles, supposed to have been long and well established, to decide it.

That the people have an original right to establish, for their future government, such principles as, in their opinion, shall most conduce to their own happiness, is the basis, on which the whole American fabric has been erected. The exercise of this original right is a very great exertion; nor can it, nor ought it to be, frequently repeated. The principles, therefore, so established, are deemed fundamental. And as the authority, from which they proceed, is supreme, and can seldom act, they are designed to be permanent.

This original and supreme will organizes the government, and assigns,to different departments, their respective powers. It may either stop here; or establish certain limits not to be transcended by those departments.

The government of the United States is of the latter description. The powers of the legislature are defined, and limited; and that those limits may not be mistaken, or forgotten, the constitution is written. To what purpose are powers limited, and to what purpose is that limitation committed to writing, if these limits may, at any time, be passed by those intended to be restrained? The distinction, between a government with limited and unlimited powers, is abolished, if those limits do not confine the persons on whom they are imposed, and if acts pro*177hibited and acts allowed, are of equal obligation. It is a proposition too plain to be contested, that the constitution controls any legislative act repugnant to it; or, that the legislature may alter the constitution by an ordinary act.

Between these alternatives there is no middle ground. The constitution is either a superior, paramount law, unchangeable by ordinary means, or it is on a level with ordinary legislative acts, and like other acts, is alterable when the legislature shall please to alter it.

If the former part of the alternative be true, then a legislative act contrary to the constitution is not law: if the latter part be true, then written constitutions are absurd attempts, on the part of the people, to limit a power, in its own nature illimitable.

Certainly all those who have framed written constitutions contemplate them as forming the fundamental and paramount law of the nation, and consequently the theory of every such government must be, that an act of the legislature, repugnant to the constitution, is void.

This theory is essentially attached to a written constitution, and is consequently to be considered, by this court, as one of the fundamental principles of our society. It is not therefore to be lost fight of in the further consideration of this subject.

If an act of the legislature, repugnant to the constitution, is void, does it, notwithstanding its invalidity, bind the courts, and oblige them to give it effect? Or, in other words, though it be not law, does it constitute a rule as operative as if it was a law ? This would be to overthrow in fact what was established in theory; and would seem, at first view, an absurdity too gross to be insisted on. It shall, however, receive a more attentive consideration.

It is emphatically the province and duty of the judicial department to say what the law is. Those who apply the use to particular cases, must of necessity expound and interpret that rule. If two laws conflict with each other, the courts must decide on the operation of each.

*178So if a law be in opposition to the constitution; if both the law and the constitution apply to a particular case, so that the court must either decide that case conformably to the law, disregarding the constitution; or conformably to the constitution, disregarding the law; the court must determime which of these conflicting rules governs the case. This is of the very essence of judicial duty.

If then the courts are to regard the constitution; and the constitution is superior to any ordinary act of the legislature; the constitution, and not such ordinary act, must govern the case to which they both apply.

Those then who controvert the principle that the constitution is to be considered, in court, as a paramount law, are reduced to the necessity of maintaining that courts must close their eyes on the constitution, and see only the law.

This doctrine would subvert the very foundation of all written constitutions. It would declare that an act, which, according to the principles and theory of our government, is entirely void; is yet, in practice, completely obligatory, It would declare, that if the legislature shall do what is expressly forbiden, such act, notwithstanding the express prohibition, is in reality effectual. It would be giving to the legislature a practical and real omnipotence, with the same breath which professes to restrict their powers within narrow limits. It is prescribing limits, and declaring that those limits may be passed at pleasure.

That it thus reduces to nothing what we have deemed the greatest improvement on political institutions—a written constitution—would of itself be sufficient, in America, where written constitutions have been viewed with so much reverence, for rejecting the construction. But the peculiar expressions of the constitution of the United States furnish additional arguments in favour of its rejection.

The judicial power of the United States is extended to all cases arising under the constitution.

*179Could it be the intention of those who gave this power, to say that, in using it, the constitution should not be looked into? That a case arising under the constitution should be decided without examining the instrument under which it arises?

This is too extravagant to be maintained.

In some cases then, the constitution must be looked into by the judges. And if they can open it at all, what part of it are they forbidden to read, or to obey?

There are many other parts of the constitution which serve to illustrate this subject.

It is declared that “ no tax or duty shall be laid on arti-“cles exported from any state.” Suppose a duty on the export of cotton, of tobacco, or of flour; and a suit instituted to recover it. Ought judgment to be rendered in such a case? ought the judges to close their eyes on the constitution, and only see the law.

The constitution declares that “no bill of attainder or "ex post facto law shall be passed.”

If, however, such a bill should be passed and a person should be prosecuted under it; must the court condemn to death those victims whom the constitution endeavours to preserve?

“No person,” says the constitution, “shall be convicted “of treason unless on the testimony of two witnesses to the same overt act, or on confession in open court.”

Here the language of the constitution is addressed especially to the courts. It prescribes, directly for them, a rule of evidence not to be departed from. If the legislature should change that rule, and declare one witness, or a confession out of court, sufficient for conviction, must the constitutional principles yield to the legislative act?

From these, and many other selections which might be made, it is apparent, that the framers of the consti*180tution contemplated that instrument, as a rule for the government of courts, as well as of the legislature.

Why otherwise does it direct the judges to take an oath to support it ? This oath certainly applies, in an especial manner, to their conduct in their official character. How immoral to impose it on them, if they were to be used as the instruments, and the knowing instruments, for violating what they swear to support!

The oath of office, too, imposed by the legislature, is completely demonstrative of the legislative opinion on this subject. It is in these words, “I do solemnly “swear that I will administer justice without respect “to persons, and do equal right to the poor and to the “rich; and that I will faithfully and impartially discharge “all the duties incumbent on me as accord-“ing to the best of my abilities and understanding, agree-“ably to the constitution, and laws of the United States.”

Why does a judge swear to discharge his duties agreably to the constitution of the United States, if that constitution forms no rule for his government? if it is closed upon him, and cannot be inspected by him?

If such be the real state of things, this is worse than solemn mockery. To prescribe, or to take this oath, becomes equally a crime.

It is also not entirely unworthy of observation, that in declaring what shall be the supreme law of the land, the constitution itself is first mentioned; and not the laws of the United States generally, but those only which shall be made in pursuance of the constitution, have that rank.

Thus, the particular phraseology of the constitution of the United States confirms and strengthens the principle, supposed to be essential to all written constitutions, that a law repugnant to the constitution is void; and that courts, as well as other departments, are bound by that instrument.

The rule must be discharged.

1.1.2 The Supreme Court's Power to Review State Courts- Martin v. Hunter's Lessee 1.1.2 The Supreme Court's Power to Review State Courts- Martin v. Hunter's Lessee

In our previous case, Marbury v. Madison, we saw how the Supreme Court interpreted the Constitution to mean that any federal laws that were in conflict with provisions in the Constitution were invalid and had to be struck down.

Our next case shows the Supreme Court's authority over state court decisions. The case specifically involves another provision in the Judiciary Act of 1789. Section 25 of the Act provided for Supreme Court review of final decisions of the highest state courts that involved claims based on federal law (which also includes the Constitution).

While the Constitution was being developed and debated, the delegates were aware that sometimes federal questions could initially arise in state courts. For example, imagine a person charged with a crime makes five arguments to defend himself, including one argument that his acts were protected by the 1st Amendment (the rest were arguments recognized under state law). The case will likely be tried in state court because only one of the issues involves the constitution, while the other four arguments involved state law. 

Everyone assumed that if the state court made a decsion that touched upon a federal or constitutional law issue, the Supreme Court would be able to review it to ensure uniformity of federal law (the state supreme courts ensured uniformity of state law issues). But that assumption would be tested in the 1816 case Martin v. Hunter's Lessee.

Martin v. Hunter’s Lessee
1 Wheat. (14 U.S.) 304, 4 L. Ed. 97 (1816).

[During the American Revolution, the state of Virginia passed a law that allowed the state government to confiscate property of people who were known to be loyal to the British crown. Based on this law, Virginia confiscated land owned by a man named Danny Martin and kicked him off the land in a legal process called ejectment.

Martin had inherited the land from his uncle, Lord Fairfax, who was a known loyalist. Lord Fairfax got the land in question through a treaty between the United States (i.e., the federal government) and Great Britain.

After Virginia took the land from Martin, it granted a portion of it to David Hunter. 

Martin fought the ejectment by filing a lawsuit. He won in Virginia state court, but the highest court in Virginia at the time, the Virginia Court of Appeals disagreed and reversed the trial court's decision. The court essentially upheld the ejectment despite its apparent conflict with the federal treaty (federal treaty grants Lord Fairfax the land, state law and action takes it away from his nephew). 

Martin Appealed and the case went before the US Supreme Court. The Court reversed the Virginia Court of Appeals and held that Danny Martin, as the inheritor of Lord Fairfax's land, was the rightful owner of the property because of the federal treaty. It entered a decision "instructing" the Virginia courts to enter a judgment for Martin and to give him back the land.

However, insteading of following the Supreme Court's decision and giving Martin the land, the Virginia Court of Appeals determined that the US Supreme Court did not have the constitutional authority to review state court decisions. The court argued that the Constitution did not authorize federal courts to act directly upon, and revers, state court rulings. The Virginia court refused to give the land back to Martin.

Because of this refusal, the case ended up before the US Supreme Court again.] 

■ JUSTICE STORY delivered the opinion of the Court:


[The] appellate power is not limited by the terms of [Article III of the Constitution] to any particular courts. The words are, “the judicial power (which includes appellate power) shall extend to all cases,” ... and “in all other cases before mentioned the supreme court shall have appellate jurisdiction.” It is the case, then, and not the court, that gives the jurisdiction...

[It] was foreseen that in the exercise of their ordinary jurisdiction, state courts would incidentally take cognizance of cases arising under the constitution, the laws, and treaties of the United States. Yet to all these cases the judicial power, by the very terms of the constitution, is to extend. It cannot extend by original jurisdiction if that was already rightfully and exclusively attached in the state courts; [it] must, therefore, extend by appellate jurisdiction... It would seem to follow that the appellate power of the United States must, in such cases, extend to state tribunals.


[It] has been argued that such an appellate jurisdiction over state courts is inconsistent with the genius of our governments, and the spirit of the constitution. That the latter was never designed to act upon state sovereignties, but only upon the people, and that if the power exists, it will materially impair the sovereignty of the states, and the independence of their courts. We cannot yield to the force of this reasoning; it assumes principles which we cannot admit, and draws conclusions to which we do not yield our assent. It is a mistake [to believe] that the constitution was not designed to operate upon states, in their corporate capacities. It is crowded with provisions which restrain or annul the sovereignty of the states in some of the highest branches of their prerogatives.


[Nor] can [this] be deemed to impair the independence of state judges. It is assuming the very ground in controversy to assert that they possess an absolute independence of the United States. In respect to the powers granted to the United States, they are not independent; they are expressly bound to obedience, by the letter of the [constitution]. [The] argument urged from the possibility of the abuse of the revising power, is equally unsatisfactory. It is always a doubtful course, to argue against the use or existence of a power, from the possibility of its abuse. [From] the very nature of things, the absolute right of decision, in the last resort, must rest somewhere—wherever it may be vested, it is susceptible of abuse. [It] is further argued, that no great public mischief can result from a construction which shall limit the appellate power of the United States to cases in their own courts: first, because state judges are bound by an oath to support the constitution of the United States and must be presumed to be men of learning and integrity.


[A]dmitting that the judges of the state courts are, and always will be, of as much learning, integrity and wisdom as those of the courts of the United States (which we very cheerfully admit) [does] not aid the argument. [The] constitution has presumed [that] state attachments, state prejudices, state jealousies, and state interests, might sometimes obstruct, or control, or be supposed to obstruct or control, the regular administration of justice. [This] is not all. A motive of another kind, perfectly compatible with the most sincere respect for state tribunals, might induce the grant of appellate power over their decisions. That motive is the importance, and even necessity of uniformity of decisions throughout the whole United States, upon all subjects within the purview of the constitution. Judges of equal learning and integrity, in different states, might differently interpret a statute, or a treaty of the United States, or even the constitution itself: if there were no revising authority to control these jarring and discordant judgments, and harmonize them into uniformity, the laws, the treaties and the constitution of the United States would be different in different states. [The] public mischiefs that would attend such a state of things would be truly [deplorable].

1.1.3 United States v. Lopez 1.1.3 United States v. Lopez

UNITED STATES v. LOPEZ

No. 93-1260.

Argued November 8, 1994

Decided April 26, 1995

*550Rehnquist, C. J., delivered the opinion of the Court, in which O’Con-nor, Scalia, Kennedy, and Thomas, JJ., joined. Kennedy, J., filed a concurring opinion, in which O’Connor, J., joined, post, p. 568. Thomas, J., filed a concurring opinion, post, p. 584. Stevens, J., post, p. 602, and Souter, J., post, p. 603, filed dissenting opinions. Breyer, J., filed a dissenting opinion, in which Stevens, Souter, and Ginsburg, JJ., joined, post, p. 615.

Solicitor General Days argued the cause for the United States. With him on the briefs were Assistant Attorney General Harris, Deputy Solicitor General Wallace, Malcolm L. Stewart, and John F De Pue.

John R. Carter argued the cause for respondent. With him on the brief were Luden B. Campbell, Henry J. Bemporad, Carter G. Phillips, and Adam D. Hirsh.*

*551Chief Justice Rehnquist

delivered the opinion of the Court.

In the Gun-Free School Zones Act of 1990, Congress made it a federal offense “for any individual knowingly to possess a firearm at a place that the individual knows, or has reasonable cause to believe, is a school zone.” 18 U. S. C. § 922(q)(1)(A) (1988 ed., Supp. V). The Act neither regulates a commercial activity nor contains a requirement that the possession be connected in any way to interstate commerce. We hold that the Act exceeds the authority of Congress “[t]o regulate Commerce . . . among the several States . . . .” U. S. Const., Art. I, §8, cl. 3.

On March 10,1992, respondent, who was then a 12th~grade student, arrived at Edison High School in San Antonio, Texas, carrying a concealed .38-caliber handgun and five bullets. Acting upon an anonymous tip, school authorities confronted respondent, who admitted that he was carrying the weapon. He was arrested and charged under Texas law with firearm possession on school premises. See Tex. Penal Code Ann. § 46.03(a)(1) (Supp. 1994). The next day, the state charges were dismissed after federal agents charged respondent by complaint with violating the Gun-Free School Zones Act of 1990. 18 U. S. C. § 922(q)(1)(A) (1988 ed., Supp. V).1

A federal grand jury indicted respondent on one count of knowing possession of a firearm at a school zone, in violation of § 922(q). Respondent moved to dismiss his federal indictment on the ground that § 922(q) “is unconstitutional as it is beyond the power of Congress to legislate control over our public schools.” The District Court denied the motion, concluding that § 922(q) “is a constitutional exercise of Congress’ well-defined power to regulate activities in and affecting *552commerce, and the ‘business’ of elementary, middle and high schools . . . affects interstate commerce.” App. to Pet. for Cert. 55a. Respondent waived his right to a jury trial. The District Court conducted a bench trial, found him guilty of violating §922(q), and sentenced him to six months’ imprisonment and two years’ supervised release.

On appeal, respondent challenged his conviction based on his claim that § 922(q) exceeded Congress’ power to legislate under the Commerce Clause. The Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit agreed and reversed respondent’s conviction. It held that, in light of what it characterized as insufficient congressional findings and legislative history, “section 922(q), in the full reach of its terms, is invalid as beyond the power of Congress under the Commerce Clause.” 2 F. 3d 1342, 1367-1368 (1993). Because of the importance of the issue, we granted certiorari, 511 U. S. 1029 (1994), and we now affirm.

We start with first principles. The Constitution creates a Federal Government of enumerated powers. See Art. I, § 8. As James Madison wrote: “The powers delegated by the proposed Constitution to the federal government are few and defined. Those which are to remain in the State governments are numerous and indefinite.” The Federalist No. 45, pp. 292-293 (C. Rossiter ed. 1961). This constitutionally mandated division of authority “was adopted by the Framers to ensure protection of our fundamental liberties.” Gregory v. Ashcroft, 501 U. S. 452, 458 (1991) (internal quotation marks omitted). “Just as the separation and independence of the coordinate branches of the Federal Government serve to prevent the accumulation of excessive power in any one branch, a healthy balance of power between the States and the Federal Government will reduce the risk of tyranny and abuse from either front.” Ibid.

The Constitution delegates to Congress the power “[t]o regulate Commerce with foreign Nations, and among the several States, and with the Indian Tribes.” Art. I, §8, *553cl. 3. The Court, through Chief Justice Marshall, first defined the nature of Congress’ commerce power in Gibbons v. Ogden, 9 Wheat. 1, 189-190 (1824):

“Commerce, undoubtedly, is traffic, but it is something more: it is intercourse. It describes the commercial intercourse between nations, and parts of nations, in all its branches, and is regulated by prescribing rules for carrying on that intercourse.”

The commerce power “is the power to regulate; that is, to prescribe the rule by which commerce is to be governed. This power, like all others vested in congress, is complete in itself, may be exercised to its utmost extent, and acknowledges no limitations, other than are prescribed in the constitution.” Id., at 196. The Gibbons Court, however, acknowledged that limitations on the commerce power are inherent in the very language of the Commerce Clause.

“It is not intended to say that these words comprehend that commerce, which is completely internal, which is carried on between man and man in a State, or between different parts of the same State, and which does not extend to or affect other States. Such a power would be inconvenient, and is certainly unnecessary.
“Comprehensive as the word ‘among’ is, it may very properly be restricted to that commerce which concerns more States than one.... The enumeration presupposes something not enumerated; and that something, if we regard the language, or the subject of the sentence, must be the exclusively internal commerce of a State.” Id., at 194-195.

For nearly a century thereafter, the Court’s Commerce Clause decisions dealt but rarely with the extent of Congress’ power, and almost entirely with the Commerce Clause as a limit on state legislation that discriminated against interstate commerce. See, e. g., Veazie v. Moor, 14 How. 568, 573-575 (1853) (upholding a state-created steamboat monop*554oly because it involved regulation of wholly internal commerce); Kidd v. Pearson, 128 U. S. 1, 17, 20-22 (1888) (upholding a state prohibition on the manufacture of intoxicating liquor because the commerce power “does not comprehend the purely internal domestic commerce of a State which is carried on between man and man within a State or between different parts of the same State”); see also L. Tribe, American Constitutional Law 306 (2d ed. 1988). Under this line of precedent, the Court held that certain categories of activity such as “production,” “manufacturing,” and “mining” were within the province of state governments, and thus were beyond the power of Congress under the Commerce Clause. See Wickard v. Filburn, 317 U. S. 111, 121 (1942) (describing development of Commerce Clause jurisprudence).

In 1887, Congress enacted the Interstate Commerce Act, 24 Stat. 379, and in 1890, Congress enacted the Sherman Antitrust Act, 26 Stat. 209, as amended, 15 U. S. C. § 1 et seq. These laws ushered in a new era of federal regulation under the commerce power. When cases involving these laws first reached this Court, we imported from our negative Commerce Clause cases the approach that Congress could not regulate activities such as “production,” “manufacturing,” and “mining.” See, e. g., United States v. E. C. Knight Co., 156 U. S. 1, 12 (1895) (“Commerce succeeds to manufacture, and is not part of it”); Carter v. Carter Coal Co., 298 U. S. 238, 304 (1936) (“Mining brings the subject matter of commerce into existence. Commerce disposes of it”). Simultaneously, however, the Court held that, where the interstate and intrastate aspects of commerce were so mingled together that full regulation of interstate commerce required incidental regulation of intrastate commerce, the Commerce Clause authorized such regulation. See, e. g., Shreveport Rate Cases, 234 U. S. 342 (1914).

In A. L. A. Schechter Poultry Corp. v. United States, 295 U. S. 495, 550 (1935), the Court struck down regulations that *555fixed the hours and wages of individuals employed by an intrastate business because the activity being regulated related to interstate commerce only indirectly. In doing so, the Court characterized the distinction between direct and indirect effects of intrastate transactions upon interstate commerce as “a fundamental one, essential to the maintenance of our constitutional system.” Id., at 548. Activities that affected interstate commerce directly were within Congress’ power; activities that affected interstate commerce indirectly were beyond Congress’ reach. Id., at 546. The justification for this formal distinction was rooted in the fear that otherwise “there would be virtually no limit to the federal power and for all practical purposes we should have a completely centralized government.” Id., at 548.

Two years later, in the watershed case of NLRB v. Jones & Laughlin Steel Corp., 301 U. S. 1 (1937), the Court upheld the National Labor Relations Act against a Commerce Clause challenge, and in the process, departed from the distinction between “direct” and “indirect” effects on interstate commerce. Id., at 36-38 (“The question [of the scope of Congress’ power] is necessarily one of degree”). The Court held that intrastate activities that “have such a close and substantial relation to interstate commerce that their control is essential or appropriate to protect that commerce from burdens and obstructions” are within Congress’ power to regulate. Id., at 37.

In United States v. Darby, 312 U. S. 100 (1941), the Court upheld the Fair Labor Standards Act, stating:

“The power of Congress over interstate commerce is not confined to the regulation of commerce among the states. It extends to those activities intrastate which so affect interstate commerce or the exercise of the power of Congress over it as to make regulation of them appropriate means to the attainment of a legitimate end, the exercise of the granted power of Congress to regulate interstate commerce.” Id., at 118.

*556See also United States v. Wrightwood Dairy Co., 315 U. S. 110, 119 (1942) (the commerce power “extends to those intrastate activities which in a substantial way interfere with or obstruct the exercise of the granted power”).

In Wickard v. Filburn, the Court upheld the application of amendments to the Agricultural Adjustment Act of 1938 to the production and consumption of homegrown wheat. 317 U. S., at 128-129. The Wickard Court explicitly rejected earlier distinctions between direct and indirect effects on interstate commerce, stating:

“[Ejven if appellee’s activity be local and though it may not be regarded as commerce, it may still, whatever its nature, be reached by Congress if it exerts a substantial economic effect on interstate commerce, and this irrespective of whether such effect is what might at some earlier time have been defined as ‘direct’ or ‘indirect.’” Id., at 125.

The Wickard Court emphasized that although Filburn’s own contribution to the demand for wheat may have been trivial by itself, that was not “enough to remove him from the scope of federal regulation where, as here, his contribution, taken together with that of many others similarly situated, is far from trivial.” Id., at 127-128.

Jones & Laughlin Steel, Darby, and Wickard ushered in an era of Commerce Clause jurisprudence that greatly expanded the previously defined authority of Congress under that Clause. In part, this was a recognition of the great changes that had occurred in the way business was carried on in this country. Enterprises that had once been local or at most regional in nature had become national in scope. But the doctrinal change also reflected a view that earlier Commerce Clause cases artificially had constrained the authority of Congress to regulate interstate commerce.

But even these modern-era precedents which have expanded congressional power under the Commerce Clause *557confirm that this power is subject to outer limits. In Jones & Laughlin Steel, the Court warned that the scope of the interstate commerce power “must be considered in the light of our dual system of government and may not be extended so as to embrace effects upon interstate commerce so indirect and remote that to embrace them, in view of our complex society, would effectually obliterate the distinction between what is national and what is local and create a completely centralized government.” 301 U. S., at 37; see also Darby, supra, at 119-120 (Congress may regulate intrastate activity that has a “substantial effect” on interstate commerce); Wickard, supra, at 125 (Congress may regulate activity that “exerts a substantial economic effect on interstate commerce”). Since that time, the Court has heeded that warning and undertaken to decide whether a rational basis existed for concluding that a regulated activity sufficiently affected interstate commerce. See, e. g., Hodel v. Virginia Surface Mining & Reclamation Assn., Inc., 452 U. S. 264, 276-280 (1981); Perez v. United States, 402 U. S. 146, 155-156 (1971); Katzenbach v. McClung, 379 U. S. 294, 299-301 (1964); Heart of Atlanta Motel, Inc. v. United States, 379 U. S. 241, 252-253 (1964).2

Similarly, in Maryland v. Wirtz, 392 U. S. 183 (1968), the Court reaffirmed that “the power to regulate commerce, though broad indeed, has limits” that “[t]he Court has ample power” to enforce. Id., at 196, overruled on other grounds, National League of Cities v. Usery, 426 U. S. 833 (1976), overruled by Garcia v. San Antonio Metropolitan Transit *558Authority, 469 U. S. 528 (1985). In response to the dissent’s warnings that the Court was powerless to enforce the limitations on Congress’ commerce powers because “[a]ll activities affecting commerce, even in the minutest degree, [Wickard], may be regulated and controlled by Congress,” 392 U. S., at 204 (Douglas, J., dissenting), the Wirtz Court replied that the dissent had misread precedent as “[njeither here nor in Wickard has the Court declared that Congress may use a relatively trivial impact on commerce as an excuse for broad general regulation of state or private activities,” id., at 197, n. 27. Rather, “[t]he Court has said only that where a general regulatory statute bears a substantial relation to commerce, the de minimis character of individual instances arising under that statute is of no consequence.” Ibid, (first emphasis added).

Consistent with this structure, we have identified three broad categories of activity that Congress may regulate under its commerce power. Perez, supra, at 150; see also Hodel, supra, at 276-277. First, Congress may regulate the use of the channels of interstate commerce. See, e.g., Darby, 312 U. S., at 114; Heart of Atlanta Motel, supra, at 256 (“ ‘[T]he authority of Congress to keep the channels of interstate commerce free from immoral and injurious uses has been frequently sustained, and is no longer open to question’ ” (quoting Caminetti v. United States, 242 U. S. 470, 491 (1917))). Second, Congress is empowered to regulate and protect the instrumentalities of interstate commerce, or persons or things in interstate commerce, even though the threat may come only from intrastate activities. See, e. g., Shreveport Rate Cases, 234 U. S. 342 (1914); Southern R. Co. v. United States, 222 U. S. 20 (1911) (upholding amendments to Safety Appliance Act as applied to vehicles used in intrastate commerce); Perez, supra, at 150 (“[F]or example, the destruction of an aircraft (18 U. S. C. § 32), or... thefts from interstate shipments (18 U. S. C. § 659)”). Finally, Congress’ commerce authority includes the power to regulate those ac*559tivities having a substantial relation to interstate commerce, Jones & Laughlin Steel, 301 U. S., at 37, i. e., those activities that substantially affect interstate commerce, Wirtz, supra, at 196, n. 27.

Within this final category, admittedly, our case law has not been clear whether an activity must “affect” or “substantially affect” interstate commerce in order to be within Congress’ power to regulate it under the Commerce Clause. Compare Preseault v. ICC, 494 U. S. 1, 17 (1990), with Wirtz, supra, at 196, n. 27 (the Court has never declared that “Congress may use a relatively trivial impact on commerce as an excuse for broad general regulation of state or private activities”). We conclude, consistent with the great weight of our case law, that the proper test requires an analysis of whether the regulated activity “substantially affects” interstate commerce.

We now turn to consider the power of Congress, in the light of this framework, to enact § 922(q). The first two categories of authority may be quickly disposed of: § 922(q) is not a regulation of the use of the channels of interstate commerce, nor is it an attempt to prohibit the interstate transportation of a commodity through the channels of commerce; nor can § 922(q) be justified as a regulation by which Congress has sought to protect an instrumentality of interstate commerce or a thing in interstate commerce. Thus, if § 922(q) is to be sustained, it must be under the third category as a regulation of an activity that substantially affects interstate commerce.

First, we have upheld a wide variety of congressional Acts regulating intrastate economic activity where we have concluded that the activity substantially affected interstate commerce. Examples include the regulation of intrastate coal mining; Hodel, supra, intrastate extortionate credit transactions, Perez, supra, restaurants utilizing substantial interstate supplies, McClung, supra, inns and hotels catering to interstate guests, Heart of Atlanta Motel, supra, and pro*560duction and consumption of homegrown wheat, Wickard v. Filburn, 317 U. S. 111 (1942). These examples are by no means exhaustive, but the pattern is clear. Where economic activity substantially affects interstate commerce, legislation regulating that activity will be sustained.

Even Wickard, which is perhaps the most far reaching example of Commerce Clause authority over intrastate activity, involved economic activity in a way that the possession of a gun in a school zone does not. Roscoe Filburn operated a small farm in Ohio, on which, in the year involved, he raised 23 acres of wheat. It was his practice to sow winter wheat in the fall, and after harvesting it in July to sell a portion of the crop, to feed part of it to poultry and livestock on the farm, to use some in making flour for home consumption, and to keep the remainder for seeding future crops. The Secretary of Agriculture assessed a penalty against him under the Agricultural Adjustment Act of 1938 because he harvested about 12 acres more wheat than his allotment under the Act permitted. The Act was designed to regulate the volume of wheat moving in interstate and foreign commerce in order to avoid surpluses and shortages, and concomitant fluctuation in wheat prices, which had previously obtained. The Court said, in an opinion sustaining the application of the Act to Filburn’s activity:

“One of the primary purposes of the Act in question was to increase the market price of wheat and to that end to limit the volume thereof that could affect the market. It can hardly be denied that a factor of such volume and variability as home-consumed wheat would have a substantial influence on price and market conditions. This may arise because being in marketable condition such wheat overhangs the market and, if induced by rising prices, tends to flow into the market and check price increases. But if we assume that it is never marketed, it supplies a need of the man who grew it which would otherwise be reflected by purchases in the open market. *561Home-grown wheat in this sense competes with wheat in commerce.” 317 U. S., at 128.

Section 922(q) is a criminal statute that by its terms has nothing to do with “commerce” or any sort of economic enterprise, however broadly one might define those terms.3 Section 922(q) is not an essential part of a larger regulation of economic activity, in which the regulatory scheme could be undercut unless the intrastate activity were regulated. It cannot, therefore, be sustained under our cases upholding regulations of activities that arise out of or are connected with a commercial transaction, which viewed in the aggregate, substantially affects interstate commerce.

Second, § 922(q) contains no jurisdictional element which would ensure, through case-by-case inquiry, that the firearm possession in question affects interstate commerce. For example, in United States v. Bass, 404 U. S. 336 (1971), the Court interpreted former 18 U. S. C. § 1202(a), which made it *562a crime for a felon to “receiv[e], posses[s], or transport] in commerce or affecting commerce . . . any firearm.” 404 U. S., at 337. The Court interpreted the possession component of § 1202(a) to require an additional nexus to interstate commerce both because the statute was ambiguous and because “unless Congress conveys its purpose clearly, it will not be deemed to have significantly changed the federal-state balance.” Id., at 349. The Bass Court set aside the conviction because, although the Government had demonstrated that Bass had possessed a firearm, it had failed “to show the requisite nexus with interstate commerce.” Id., at 347. The Court thus interpreted the statute to reserve the constitutional question whether Congress could regulate, without more, the “mere possession” of firearms. See id., at 339, n. 4; see also United States v. Five Gambling Devices, 346 U. S. 441, 448 (1953) (plurality opinion) (“The principle is old and deeply imbedded in our jurisprudence that this Court will construe a statute in a manner that requires decision of serious constitutional questions only if the statutory language leaves no reasonable alternative”). Unlike the statute in Bass, §922(q) has no express jurisdictional element which might limit its reach to a discrete set of firearm possessions that additionally have an explicit connection with or effect on interstate commerce.

Although as part of our independent evaluation of constitutionality under the Commerce Clause we of course consider legislative findings, and indeed even congressional committee findings, regarding effect on interstate commerce, see, e. g., Preseault v. ICC, 494 U. S., at 17, the Government concedes that “[njeither the statute nor its legislative history contain[s] express congressional findings regarding the effects upon interstate commerce of gun possession in a school zone.” Brief for United States 5-6. We agree with the Government that Congress normally is not required to make formal findings as to the substantial burdens that an activity has on interstate commerce. See McClung, 379 U. S., at 304; *563see also Perez, 402 U. S., at 156 (“Congress need [not] make particularized findings in order to legislate”). But to the extent that congressional findings would enable us to evaluate the legislative judgment that the activity in question substantially affected interstate commerce, even though no such substantial effect was visible to the naked eye, they are lacking here.4

The Government argues that Congress has accumulated institutional expertise regarding the regulation of firearms through previous enactments. Cf. Fullilove v. Klutznick, 448 U. S. 448, 503 (1980) (Powell, J., concurring). We agree, however, with the Fifth Circuit that importation of previous findings to justify §922(q) is especially inappropriate here because the “prior federal enactments or Congressional findings [do not] speak to the subject matter of section 922(q) or its relationship to interstate commerce. Indeed, section 922(q) plows thoroughly new ground and represents a sharp break with the long-standing pattern of federal firearms legislation.” 2 F. 3d, at 1366.

The Government’s essential contention, in fine, is that we may determine here that § 922(q) is valid because possession of a firearm in a local school zone does indeed substantially affect interstate commerce. Brief for United States 17. The Government argues that possession of a firearm in a school zone may result in violent crime and that violent crime can be expected to affect the functioning of the national economy in two ways. First, the costs of violent *564crime are substantial, and, through the mechanism of insurance, those costs are spread throughout the population. See United States v. Evans, 928 F. 2d 858, 862 (CA9 1991). Second, violent crime reduces the willingness of individuals to travel to areas within the country that are perceived to be unsafe. Cf. Heart of Atlanta Motel, 379 U. S., at 253. The Government also argues that the presence of guns in schools poses a substantial threat to the educational process by threatening the learning environment. A handicapped educational process, in turn, will result in a less productive citizenry. That, iii turn, would have an adverse effect on the Nation’s economic well-being. As a result, the Government argues that Congress could rationally have concluded that § 922(q) substantially affects interstate commerce.

We pause to consider the implications of the Government’s arguments. The Government admits, under its “costs of crime” reasoning, that Congress could regulate not only all violent crime, but all activities that might lead to violent crime, regardless of how tenuously they relate to interstate commerce. See Tr. of Oral Arg. 8-9. Similarly, under the Government’s “national productivity” reasoning, Congress could regulate any activity that it found was related to the economic productivity of individual citizens: family law (including marriage, divorce, and child custody), for example. Under the theories that the Government presents in support of § 922(q), it is difficult to perceive any limitation on federal power, even in areas such as criminal law enforcement or education where States historically have been sovereign. Thus, if we were to accept the Government’s arguments, we are hard pressed to posit any activity by an individual that Congress is' without power to regulate.

Although Justice Breyer argues that acceptance of the Government’s rationales would not authorize a general federal police power, he is unable to identify any activity that the States may regulate but Congress may not. Justice Breyer posits that there might be some limitations on Con*565gress’ commerce power, such as family law or certain aspects of education. Post, at 624. These suggested limitations, when viewed in light of the dissent’s expansive analysis, are devoid of substance.

Justice Breyer focuses, for the most part, on the threat that firearm possession in and near schools poses to the educational process and the potential economic consequences flowing from that threat. Post, at 619-624. Specifically, the dissent reasons that (1) gun-related violence is a serious problem; (2) that problem, in turn, has an adverse effect on classroom learning; and (3) that adverse effect on classroom learning, in turn, represents a substantial threat to trade and commerce. Post, at 623. This analysis would be equally applicable, if not more so, to subjects such as family law and direct regulation of education.

For instance, if Congress can, pursuant to its Commerce Clause power, regulate activities that adversely affect the learning environment, then, a fortiori, it also can regulate the educational process directly. Congress could determine that a school’s curriculum has a “significant” effect on the extent of classroom learning. As a result, Congress could mandate a federal curriculum for local elementary and secondary schools because what is taught in local schools has a significant “effect on classroom learning,” cf. ibid., and that, in turn, has a substantial effect on interstate commerce.

Justice Breyer rejects our reading of precedent and argues that “Congress . . . could rationally conclude that schools fall on the commercial side of the line.” Post, at 629. Again, Justice Breyer’s rationale lacks any real limits because, depending on the level of generality, any activity can be looked upon as commercial. Under the dissent’s rationale, Congress could just as easily look at child rearing as “fall[ing] on the commercial side of the line” because it provides a “valuable service — namely, to equip [children] with the skills they need to survive in life and, more specifically, in the workplace.” Ibid. We do not doubt that Congress *566has authority under the Commerce Clause to regulate numerous commercial activities that substantially affect interstate commerce and also affect the educational process. That authority, though broad, does not include the authority to regulate each and every aspect of local schools.

Admittedly, a determination whether an intrastate activity is commercial or noncommercial may in some eases result in legal uncertainty. But, so long as Congress’ authority is limited to those powers enumerated in the Constitution, and so long as those enumerated powers are interpreted as having judicially enforceable outer limits, congressional legislation under the Commerce Clause always will engender “legal uncertainty.” Post, at 630. As Chief Justice Marshall stated in McCulloch v. Maryland, 4 Wheat. 316 (1819):

“Th[e] [federal] government is acknowledged by all to be one of enumerated powers. The principle, that it can exercise only the powers granted to it... is now universally admitted. But the question respecting the extent of the powers actually granted, is perpetually arising, and will probably continue to arise, as long as our system shall exist.” Id., at 405.

See also Gibbons v. Ogden, 9 Wheat., at 195 (“The enumeration presupposes something not enumerated”). The Constitution mandates this uncertainty by withholding from Congress a plenary police power that would authorize enactment of every type of legislation. See Art. I, § 8. Congress has operated within this framework of legal uncertainty ever since this Court determined that it was the Judiciary’s duty “to say what the law is.” Marbury v. Madison, 1 Cranch 137, 177 (1803) (Marshall, C. J.). Any possible benefit from eliminating this “legal uncertainty” would be at the expense of the Constitution’s system of enumerated powers.

In Jones & Laughlin Steel, 301 U. S., at 37, we held that the question of congressional power under the Commerce Clause “is necessarily one of degree.” To the same effect *567is the concurring opinion of Justice Cardozo in Schechter Poultry:

“There is a view of causation that would obliterate the distinction between what is national and what is local in the activities of commerce. Motion at the outer rim is communicated perceptibly, though minutely, to recording instruments at the center. A society such as ours ‘is an elastic medium which transmits all tremors throughout its territory; the only question is of their size.’” 295 U. S., at 554 (quoting United States v. A. L. A. Schechter Poultry Corp., 76 F. 2d 617, 624 (CA2 1935) (L. Hand, J., concurring)).

These are not precise formulations, and in the nature of things they cannot be. But we think they point the way to a correct decision of this case. The possession of a gun in a local school zone is in no sense an economic activity that might, through repetition elsewhere, substantially affect any sort of interstate commerce. Respondent was a local student at a local school; there is no indication that he had recently moved in interstate commerce, and there is no requirement that his possession of the firearm have any concrete tie to interstate commerce.

To uphold the Government’s contentions here, we would have to pile inference upon inference in a manner that would bid fair to convert congressional authority under the Commerce Clause to a general police power of the sort retained by the States. Admittedly, some of our prior cases have taken long steps down that road, giving great deference to congressional action. See supra, at 556-558. The broad language in these opinions has suggested the possibility of additional expansion, but we decline here to proceed any further. To do so would require us to conclude that the Constitution’s enumeration of powers does not presuppose something not enumerated, cf. Gibbons v. Ogden, supra, at 195, and that there never will be a distinction between what is *568truly national and what is truly local, cf. Jones & Laughlin Steel, supra, at 30. This we are unwilling to do.

For the foregoing reasons the judgment of the Court of Appeals is

Affirmed.

Justice Kennedy,

with whom Justice O’Connor joins,

concurring.

The history of the judicial struggle to interpret the Commerce Clause during the transition from the economic system the Founders knew to the single, national market still emergent in our own era counsels great restraint before the Court determines that the Clause is insufficient to support an exercise of the national power. That history gives me some pause about today’s decision, but I join the Court’s opinion with these observations on what I conceive to be its necessary though limited holding.

Chief Justice Marshall announced that the national authority reaches “that commerce which concerns more States than one” and that the commerce power “is complete in itself, may be exercised to its utmost extent, and acknowledges no limitations, other than are prescribed in the constitution.” Gibbons v. Ogden, 9 Wheat. 1, 194, 196 (1824). His statements can be understood now as an early and authoritative recognition that the Commerce Clause grants Congress extensive power and ample discretion to determine its appropriate exercise. The progression of our Commerce Clause cases from Gibbons to the present was not marked, however, by a coherent or consistent course of interpretation; for neither the course of technological advance nor the foundational principles for the jurisprudence itself were self-evident to the courts that sought to resolve contemporary disputes by enduring principles.

Furthermore, for almost a century after the adoption of the Constitution, the Court’s Commerce Clause decisions did not concern the authority of Congress to legislate. Rather, *569the Court faced the related but quite distinct question of the authority of the States to regulate matters that would be within the commerce power had Congress chosen to act. The simple fact was that in the early years of the Republic, Congress seldom perceived the necessity to exercise its power in circumstances where its authority would be called into question. The Court’s initial task, therefore, was to elaborate the theories that would permit the States to act where Congress had not done so. Not the least part of the problem was the unresolved question whether the congressional power was exclusive, a question reserved by Chief Justice Marshall in Gibbons v. Ogden, supra, at 209-210.

At the midpoint of the 19th century, the Court embraced the principle that the States and the National Government both have authority to regulate certain matters absent the congressional determination to displace local law or the necessity for the Court to invalidate local law because of the dormant national power. Cooley v. Board of Wardens of Port of Philadelphia ex rel. Soc. for Relief of Distressed Pilots, 12 How. 299, 318-321 (1852). But the utility of that solution was not at once apparent, see generally F. Frankfurter, The Commerce Clause under Marshall, Taney and Waite (1937) (hereinafter Frankfurter), and difficulties of application persisted, see Leisy v. Hardin, 135 U. S. 100, 122-125 (1890).

One approach the Court used to inquire into the lawfulness of state authority was to draw content-based or subject-matter distinctions, thus defining by semantic or formalistic categories those activities that were commerce and those that were not. For instance, in deciding that a State could prohibit the in-state manufacture of liquor intended for out-of-state shipment, it distinguished between manufacture and commerce. “No distinction is more popular to the common mind, or more clearly expressed in economic and political literature, than that between manufacture] and commerce. Manufacture is transformation — the fashioning of raw mate*570rials into a change of form for use. The functions of commerce are different.” Kidd v. Pearson, 128 U. S. 1, 20 (1888). Though that approach likely would not have survived even if confined to the question of a State’s authority to enact legislation, it was not at all propitious when applied to the quite different question of what subjects were within the reach of the national power when Congress chose to exercise it.

This became evident when the Court began to confront federal economic regulation enacted in response to the rapid industrial development in the late 19th century. Thus, it relied upon the manufacture-commerce dichotomy in United States v. E. C. Knight Co., 156 U. S. 1 (1895), where a manufacturers’ combination controlling some 98% of the Nation’s domestic sugar refining capacity was held to be outside the reach of the Sherman Act. Conspiracies to control manufacture, agriculture, mining, production, wages, or prices, the Court explained, had too “indirect” an effect on interstate commerce. Id., at 16. And in Adair v. United States, 208 U. S. 161 (1908), the Court rejected the view that the commerce power might extend to activities that, although local in the sense of having originated within a single State, nevertheless had a practical effect on interstate commercial activity. The Court concluded that there was not a “legal or logical connection . .. between an employé’s membership in a labor organization and the carrying on of interstate commerce,” id., at 178, and struck down a federal statute forbidding the discharge of an employee because of his membership in a labor organization. See also The Employers’ Liability Cases, 207 U. S. 468, 497 (1908) (invalidating statute creating negligence action against common carriers for personal injuries of employees sustained in the course of employment, because the statute “regulates the persons because they engage in interstate commerce and does not alone regulate the business of interstate commerce”).

*571Even before the Court committed itself to sustaining federal legislation on broad principles of economic practicality, it found it necessary to depart from these decisions. The Court disavowed E. C. Knight’s reliance on the manufacturing-commerce distinction in Standard Oil Co. of N. J. v. United States, 221 U. S. 1, 68-69 (1911), declaring that approach “unsound.” The Court likewise rejected the rationale of Adair when it decided, in Texas & New Orleans R. Co. v. Railway Clerks, 281 U. S. 548, 570-571 (1930), that Congress had the power to regulate matters pertaining to the organization of railroad workers.

In another line of cases, the Court addressed Congress’ efforts to impede local activities it considered undesirable by prohibiting the interstate movement of some essential element. In the Lottery Case, 188 U. S. 321 (1903), the Court rejected the argument that Congress lacked power to prohibit the interstate movement of lottery tickets because it had power only to regulate, not to prohibit. See also Hipolite Egg Co. v. United States, 220 U. S. 45 (1911); Hoke v. United States, 227 U. S. 308 (1913). In Hammer v. Dagenhart, 247 U. S. 251 (1918), however, the Court insisted that the power to regulate commerce “is directly the contrary of the assumed right to forbid commerce from moving,” id., at 269-270, and struck down a prohibition on the interstate transportation of goods manufactured in violation of child labor laws.

Even while it was experiencing difficulties in finding satisfactory principles in these cases, the Court was pursuing a more sustainable and practical approach in other lines of decisions, particularly those involving the regulation of railroad rates. In the Minnesota Rate Cases, 230 U. S. 352 (1913), the Court upheld a state rate order, but observed that Congress might be empowered to regulate in this area if “by reason of the interblending of the interstate and intrastate operations of interstate carriers” the regulation of interstate rates could not be maintained without restrictions on “intra*572state rates which substantially affect the former.” Id., at 432-433. And in the Shreveport Rate Cases, 234 U. S. 342 (1914), the Court upheld an Interstate Commerce Commission order fixing railroad rates with the explanation that congressional authority, “extending to these interstate carriers as instruments of interstate commerce, necessarily embraces the right to control their operations in all matters having such a close and substantial relation to interstate traffic that the control is essential or appropriate to the security of that traffic, to the efficiency of the interstate service, and to the maintenance of conditions under which interstate commerce may be conducted upon fair terms and without molestation or hindrance.” Id., at 351.

Even the most confined interpretation of “commerce” would embrace transportation between the States, so the rate cases posed much less difficulty for the Court than cases involving manufacture or production. Nevertheless, the Court’s recognition of the importance of a practical conception of the commerce power was not altogether confined to the rate cases. In Swift & Co. v. United States, 196 U. S. 375 (1905), the Court upheld the application of federal antitrust law to a combination of meat dealers that occurred in one State but that restrained trade in cattle “sent for sale from a place in one State, with the expectation that they will end their transit ... in another.” Id., at 398. The Court explained that “commerce among the States is not a technical legal conception, but a practical one, drawn from the course of business.” Ibid. Chief Justice Taft followed the same approach in upholding federal regulation of stockyards in Stafford v. Wallace, 258 U. S. 495 (1922). Speaking for the Court, he rejected a “nice and technical inquiry,” id., at 519, when the local transactions at issue could not “be separated from the movement to which they contribute,” id., at 516.

Reluctance of the Court to adopt that approach in all of its cases caused inconsistencies in doctrine to persist, however. In addressing New Deal legislation the Court resuscitated *573the abandoned abstract distinction between direct and indirect effects on interstate commerce. See Carter v. Carter Coal Co., 298 U. S. 238, 309 (1936) (Act regulating price of coal and wages and hours for miners held to have only “secondary and indirect” effect on interstate commerce); Railroad Retirement Bd. v. Alton R. Co., 295 U. S. 330, 368 (1935) (compulsory retirement and pension plan for railroad carrier employees too “remote from any regulation of commerce as such”); A. L. A. Schechter Poultry Corp. v. United States, 295 U. S. 495, 548 (1935) (wage and hour law provision of National Industrial Recovery Act had “no direct relation to interstate commerce”).

The case that seems to mark the Court’s definitive commitment to the practical conception of the commerce power is NLRB v. Jones & Laughlin Steel Corp., 301 U. S. 1 (1937), where the Court sustained labor laws that applied to manufacturing facilities, making no real attempt to distinguish Carter, supra, and Schechter, supra. 301 U. S., at 40-41. The deference given to Congress has since been confirmed. United States v. Darby, 312 U. S. 100, 116-117 (1941), overruled Hammer v. Dagenhart, supra. And in Wickard v. Filburn, 317 U. S. 111 (1942), the Court disapproved E. C. Knight and the entire line of direct-indirect and manufacture-production cases, explaining that “broader interpretations of the Commerce Clause [were] destined to supersede the earlier ones,” 317 U. S., at 122, and “[w]hatever terminology is used, the criterion is necessarily one of degree and must be so defined. This does not satisfy those who seek mathematical or rigid formulas. But such formulas are not provided by the great concepts of the Constitution,” id., at 123, n. 24. Later examples of the exercise of federal power where commercial transactions were the subject of regulation include Heart of Atlanta Motel, Inc. v. United States, 379 U. S. 241 (1964), Katzenbach v. McClung, 379 U. S. 294 (1964), and Perez v. United States, 402 U. S. 146 (1971). These and like authorities are within the fair ambit *574of the Court’s practical conception of commercial regulation and are not called in question by our decision today.

The history of our Commerce Clause decisions contains at least two lessons of relevance to this case. The first, as stated at the outset, is the imprecision of content-based boundaries used without more to define the limits of the Commerce Clause. The second, related to the first but of even greater consequence, is that the Court as an institution and the legal system as a whole have an immense stake in the stability of our Commerce Clause jurisprudence as it has evolved to this point. Stare decisis operates with great force in counseling us not to call in question the essential principles now in place respecting the congressional power to regulate transactions of a commercial nature. That fundamental restraint on our power forecloses us from reverting to an understanding of commerce that would serve only an 18th-century economy, dependent then upon production and trading practices that had changed but little over the preceding centuries; it also mandates against returning to the time when congressional authority to regulate undoubted commercial activities was limited by a judicial determination that those matters had an insufficient connection to an interstate system. Congress can regulate in the commercial sphere on the assumption that we have a single market and a unified purpose to build a stable national economy.

In referring to the whole subject of the federal and state balance, we said this just three Terms ago:

“This framework has been sufficiently flexible over the past two centuries to allow for enormous changes in the nature of government. The Federal Government undertakes activities today that would have been unimaginable to the Framers in two senses: first, because the Framers would not have conceived that any government would conduct such activities; and second, because the Framers would not have believed that the Federal Government, rather than the States, would assume such *575responsibilities. Yet the powers conferred upon the Federal Government by the Constitution were phrased in language broad enough to allow for the expansion of the Federal Government’s role.” New York v. United States, 505 U. S. 144, 157 (1992) (emphasis deleted).

It does not follow, however, that in every instance the Court lacks the authority and responsibility to review congressional attempts to alter the federal balance. This case requires us to consider our place in the design of the Government and to appreciate the significance of federalism in the whole structure of the Constitution.

Of the various structural elements in the Constitution, separation of powers, checks and balances, judicial review, and federalism, only concerning the last does there seem to be much uncertainty respecting the existence, and the content, of standards that allow the Judiciary to play a significant role in maintaining the design contemplated by the Framers. Although the resolution of specific cases has proved difficult, we have derived from the Constitution workable standards to assist in preserving separation of powers and checks and balances. See, e. g., Prize Cases, 2 Black 635 (1863); Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer, 343 U. S. 579 (1952); United States v. Nixon, 418 U. S. 683 (1974); Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U. S. 1 (1976); INS v. Chadha, 462 U. S. 919 (1983); Bowsher v. Synar, 478 U. S. 714 (1986); Plaut v. Spendthrift Farm, Inc., ante, p. 211. These standards are by now well accepted. Judicial review is also established beyond question, Marbury v. Madison, 1 Cranch 137 (1803), and though we may differ when applying its principles, see, e. g., Planned Parenthood of Southeastern Pa. v. Casey, 505 U. S. 833 (1992), its legitimacy is undoubted. Our role in preserving the federal balance seems more tenuous.

There is irony in this, because of the four structural elements in the Constitution just mentioned, federalism was the unique contribution of the Framers to political science and political theory. See Friendly, Federalism: A Foreword, 86 *576Yale L. J. 1019 (1977); G. Wood, The Creation of the American Republic, 1776-1787, pp. 524-532, 564 (1969). Though on the surface the idea may seem counterintuitive, it was the insight of the Framers that freedom was enhanced by the creation of two governments, not one. “In the compound republic of America, the power surrendered by the people is first divided between two distinct governments, and then the portion allotted to each subdivided among distinct and separate departments. Hence a double security arises to the rights of the people. The different governments will control each other, at the same time that each will be controlled by itself.” The Federalist No. 51, p. 323 (C. Rossiter ed. 1961) (J. Madison). See also Gregory v. Ashcroft, 501 U. S. 452, 458-459 (1991) (“Just as the separation and independence of the coordinate branches of the Federal Government serve to prevent the accumulation of excessive power in any one branch, a healthy balance of power between the States and the Federal Government will reduce the risk of tyranny and abuse from either front. ... In the tension between federal and state power lies the promise of liberty”); New York v. United States, supra, at 181 (“[T]he Constitution divides authority between federal and state governments for the protection of individuals. State sovereignty is not just an end in itself: ‘Rather, federalism secures to citizens the liberties that derive from the diffusion of sovereign power’ ”) (quoting Coleman v. Thompson, 501 U. S. 722, 759 (1991) (Blackmun, J., dissenting)).

The theory that two governments accord more liberty than one requires for its realization two distinct and discern-able lines of political accountability: one between the citizens and the Federal Government; the second between the citizens and the States. If, as Madison expected, the Federal and State Governments are to control each other, see The Federalist No. 51, and hold each other in check by competing for the affections of the people, see The Federalist No. 46, those citizens must have some means of knowing which of *577the two governments to hold accountable for the failure to perform a given function. “Federalism serves to assign political responsibility, not to obscure it.” FTC v. Ticor Title Ins. Co., 504 U. S. 621, 636 (1992). Were the Federal Government to take over the regulation of entire areas of traditional state concern, areas having nothing to do with the regulation of commercial activities, the boundaries between the spheres of federal and state authority would blur and political responsibility would become illusory. Cf. New York v. United States, supra, at 155-169; FERC v. Mississippi, 456 U. S. 742, 787 (1982) (O’Connor, J., concurring in judgment in part and dissenting in part). The resultant inability to hold either branch of the government answerable to the citizens is more dangerous even than devolving too much authority to the remote central power.

To be sure, one conclusion that could be drawn from The Federalist Papers is that the balance between national and state power is entrusted in its entirety to the political process. Madison’s observation that “the people ought not surely to be precluded from giving most of their confidence where they may discover it to be most due,” The Federalist No. 46, p. 295 (C. Rossiter ed. 1961), can be interpreted to say that the essence of responsibility for a shift in power from the State to the Federal Government rests upon a political judgment, though he added assurance that “the State governments could have little to apprehend, because it is only within a certain sphere that the federal power can, in the nature of things, be advantageously administered,” ibid. Whatever the judicial role, it is axiomatic that Congress does have substantial discretion and control over the federal balance.

For these reasons, it would be mistaken and mischievous for the political branches to forget that the sworn obligation to preserve and protect the Constitution in maintaining the federal balance is their own in the first and primary instance. In the Webster-Hayne Debates, see The Great Speeches and *578Orations of Daniel Webster 227-272 (E. Whipple ed. 1879), and the debates over the Civil Rights Acts, see Hearings on S. 1732 before the Senate Committee on Commerce, 88th Cong., 1st Sess., pts. 1-3 (1963), some Congresses have accepted responsibility to confront the great questions of the proper federal balance in terms of lasting consequences for the constitutional design. The political branches of the Government must fulfill this grave constitutional obligation if democratic liberty and the federalism that secures it are to endure.

At the same time, the absence of structural mechanisms to require those officials to undertake this principled task, and the momentary political convenience often attendant upon their failure to do so, argue against a complete renunciation of the judicial role. Although it is the obligation of all officers of the Government to respect the constitutional design, see Public Citizen v. Department of Justice, 491 U. S. 440, 466 (1989); Rostker v. Goldberg, 453 U. S. 57, 64 (1981), the federal balance is too essential a part of our constitutional structure and plays too vital a role in securing freedom for us to admit inability to intervene when one or the other level of Government has tipped the scales too far.

In the past this Court has participated in maintaining the federal balance through judicial exposition of doctrines such as abstention, see, e. g., Younger v. Harris, 401 U. S. 37 (1971); Railroad Comm’n of Tex. v. Pullman Co., 312 U. S. 496 (1941); Burford v. Sun Oil Co., 319 U. S. 315 (1943), the rules for determining the primacy of state law, see, e. g., Erie R. Co. v. Tompkins, 304 U. S. 64 (1938), the doctrine of adequate and independent state grounds, see, e. g., Murdock v. Memphis, 20 Wall. 590 (1875); Michigan v. Long, 463 U. S. 1032 (1983), the whole jurisprudence of pre-emption, see, e. g., Rice v. Santa Fe Elevator Corp., 331 U. S. 218 (1947); Cipollone v. Liggett Group, Inc., 505 U. S. 504 (1992), and many of the rules governing our habeas jurisprudence, see, e. g., Coleman v. Thompson, 501 U. S. 722 (1991); McCleskey *579v. Zant, 499 U. S. 467 (1991); Teague v. Lane, 489 U. S. 288 (1989); Rose v. Lundy, 455 U. S. 509 (1982); Wainwright v. Sykes, 433 U. S. 72 (1977).

Our ability to preserve this principle under the Commerce Clause has presented a much greater challenge. See supra, at 568-574. “This clause has throughout the Court’s history been the chief source of its adjudications regarding federalism,” and “no other body of opinions affords a fairer or more revealing test of judicial qualities.” Frankfurter 66-67. But as the branch whose distinctive duty it is to declare “what the law is,” Marbury v. Madison, 1 Cranch, at 177, we are often called upon to resolve questions of constitutional law not susceptible to the mechanical application of bright and clear lines. The substantial element of political judgment in Commerce Clause matters leaves our institutional capacity to intervene more in doubt than when we decide cases, for instance, under the Bill of Rights even though clear and bright lines are often absent in the latter class of disputes. See County of Allegheny v. American Civil Liberties Union, Greater Pittsburgh Chapter, 492 U. S. 573, 630 (1989) (O’Connor, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment) (“We cannot avoid the obligation to draw lines, often close and difficult lines” in adjudicating constitutional rights). But our cases do not teach that we have no role at all in determining the meaning of the Commerce Clause.

Our position in enforcing the dormant Commerce Clause is instructive. The Court’s doctrinal approach in that area has likewise “taken some turns.” Oklahoma Tax Comm’n v. Jefferson Lines, Inc., ante, at 180. Yet in contrast to the prevailing skepticism that surrounds our ability to give meaning to the explicit text of the Commerce Clause, there is widespread acceptance of our authority to enforce the dormant Commerce Clause, which we have but inferred from the constitutional structure as a limitation on the power of the States. One element of our dormant Commerce Clause jurisprudence has been the principle that the States may not *580impose regulations that place an undue burden on interstate commerce, even where those regulations do not discriminate between in-state and out-of-state businesses. See Brown-Forman Distillers Corp. v. New York State Liquor Authority, 476 U. S. 578, 579 (1986) (citing Pike v. Bruce Church, Inc., 397 U. S. 137, 142 (1970)). Distinguishing between regulations that do place an undue burden on interstate commerce and regulations that do not depends upon delicate judgments. True, if we invalidate a state law, Congress can in effect overturn our judgment, whereas in a case announcing that Congress has transgressed its authority, the decision is more consequential, for it stands unless Congress can revise its law to demonstrate its commercial character. This difference no doubt informs the circumspection with which we invalidate an Act of Congress, but it does not mitigate our duty to recognize meaningful limits on the commerce power of Congress.

The statute before us upsets the federal balance to a degree that renders it an unconstitutional assertion of the commerce power, and our intervention is required. As The Chief Justice explains, unlike the earlier cases to come before the Court here neither the actors nor their conduct has a commercial character, and neither the purposes nor the design of the statute has an evident commercial nexus. See ante, at 559-561. The statute makes the simple possession of a gun within 1,000 feet of the grounds of the school a criminal offense. In a sense any conduct in this interdependent world of ours has an ultimate commercial origin or consequence, but we have not yet said the commerce power may reach so far. If Congress attempts that extension, then at the least we must inquire whether the exercise of national power seeks to intrude upon an area of traditional state concern.

An interference of these dimensions occurs here, for it is well established that education is a traditional concern of the States. Milliken v. Bradley, 418 U. S. 717, 741-742 (1974); *581Epperson v. Arkansas, 393 U. S. 97, 104 (1968). The proximity to schools, including of course schools owned and operated by the States or their subdivisions, is the very premise for making the conduct criminal. In these circumstances, we have a particular duty to ensure that the federal-state balance is not destroyed. Cf. Rice, supra, at 230 (“[W]e start with the assumption that the historic police powers of the States” are not displaced by a federal statute “unless that was the clear and manifest purpose of Congress”); Florida Lime & Avocado Growers, Inc. v. Paul, 373 U. S. 132, 146 (1963).

While it is doubtful that any State, or indeed any reasonable person, would argue that it is wise policy to allow students to carry guns on school premises, considerable disagreement exists about how best to accomplish that goal. In this circumstance, the theory and utility of our federalism are revealed, for the States may perform their role as laboratories for experimentation to devise various solutions where the best solution is far from clear. See San Antonio Independent School Dist. v. Rodriguez, 411 U. S. 1, 49-50 (1973); New State Ice Co. v. Liebmann, 285 U. S. 262, 311 (1932) (Brandéis, J., dissenting).

If a State or municipality determines that harsh criminal sanctions are necessary and wise to deter students from carrying guns on school premises, the reserved powers of the States are sufficient to enact those measures. Indeed, over 40 States already have criminal laws outlawing the possession of firearms on or near school grounds. See, e. g., Alaska Stat. Ann. §§ 11.61.195(a)(2)(A), 11.61.220(a)(4)(A) (Supp. 1994); Cal. Penal Code Ann. § 626.9 (West Supp. 1994); Mass. Gen. Laws § 269:10(j) (1992); N. J. Stat. Ann. § 2C:39-5(e) (West Supp. 1994); Va. Code Ann. § 18.2-308.1 (1988); Wis. Stat. § 948.605 (1991-1992).

Other, more practicable means to rid the schools of guns may be thought by the citizens of some States to be preferable for the safety and welfare of the schools those States are *582charged with maintaining. See Brief for National Conference of State Legislatures et al. as Amici Curiae 26-30 (injection of federal officials into local problems causes friction and diminishes political accountability of state and local governments). These might include inducements to inform on violators where the information leads to arrests or confiscation of the guns, see Lima, Schools May Launch Weapons Hot Line, Los Angeles Times, Ventura Cty. East ed., Jan. 13, 1995, p. Bl, col. 5; Reward for Tips on Guns in Tucson Schools, The Arizona Republic, Jan. 7, 1995, p. B2; programs to encourage the voluntary surrender of guns with some provision for amnesty, see Zaidan, Akron Rallies to Save Youths, The Plain Dealer, Mar. 2, 1995, p. IB; Swift, Legislators Consider Plan to Get Guns Off Streets, Hartford Courant, Apr. 29, 1992, p. A4; penalties imposed on parents or guardians for failure to supervise the child, see, e. g., Okla. Stat., Tit. 21, § 858 (Supp. 1995) (fining parents who allow students to possess firearm at school); Tenn. Code Ann. § 39-17-1312 (Supp. 1992) (misdemeanor for parents to allow student to possess firearm at school); Straight Shooter: Gov. Casey’s Reasonable Plan to Control Assault Weapons, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, Mar. 14,1994, p. B2 (proposed bill); Bailey, Anti-Crime Measures Top Legislators’ Agenda, Los Angeles Times, Orange Cty. ed., Mar. 7, 1994, p. Bl, col. 2 (same); Krupa, New Gun-Control Plans Could Tighten Local Law, The Boston Globe, June 20,1993, p. 29; laws providing for suspension or expulsion of gun-toting students, see, e. g., Ala. Code § 16-1-24.1 (Supp. 1994); Ind. Code § 20-8.1-5-4(b)(1)(D) (1993); Ky. Rev. Stat. Ann. § 158.150(1)(a) (Michie 1992); Wash. Rev. Code § 9.41.280 (1994), or programs for expulsion with assignment to special facilities, see Martin, Legislators Poised to Take Harsher Stand on Guns in Schools, The Seattle Times, Feb. 1, 1995, p. Bl (automatic year-long expulsion for students with guns and intense semester-long reentry program).

*583The statute now before us forecloses the States from experimenting and exercising their own judgment in an area to which States lay claim by right of history and expertise, and it does so by regulating an activity beyond the realm of commerce in the ordinary and usual sense of that term. The tendency of this statute to displace state regulation in areas of traditional state concern is evident from its territorial operation. There are over 100,000 elementary and secondary schools in the United States. See U. S. Dept. of Education, National Center for Education Statistics, Digest of Education Statistics 73, 104 (NCES 94-115, 1994) (Tables 63, 94). Each of these now has an invisible federal zone extending 1,000 feet beyond the (often irregular) boundaries of the school property. In some communities no doubt it would be difficult to navigate without infringing on those zones. Yet throughout these areas, school officials would find their own programs for the prohibition of guns in danger of displacement by the federal authority unless the State chooses to enact a parallel rule.

This is not a case where the etiquette of federalism has been violated by a formal command from the National Government directing the State to enact a certain policy, cf. New York v. United States, 505 U. S. 144 (1992), or to organize its governmental functions in a certain way, cf. FERC v. Mississippi, 456 U. S., at 781 (O’Connor, J., concurring in judgment in part and dissenting in part). While the intrusion on state sovereignty may not be as severe in this instance as in some of our recent Tenth Amendment cases, the intrusion is nonetheless significant. Absent a stronger connection or identification with commercial concerns that are central to the Commerce Clause, that interference contradicts the federal balance the Framers designed and that this Court is obliged to enforce.

For these reasons, I join in the opinion and judgment of the Court.

*584Justice Thomas,

concurring.

The Court today properly concludes that the Commerce Clause does not grant Congress the authority to prohibit gun possession within 1,000 feet of a school, as it attempted to do in the Gun-Free School Zones Act of 1990, Pub. L. 101-647, 104 Stat. 4844. Although I join the majority, I write separately to observe that our case law has drifted far from the original understanding of the Commerce Clause. In a future case, we ought to temper our Commerce Clause jurisprudence in a manner that both makes sense of our more recent case law and is more faithful to the original understanding of that Clause.

We have said that Congress may regulate not only “Commerce . . . among the several States,” U. S. Const., Art. I, § 8, cl. 3, but also anything that has a “substantial effect” on such commerce. This test, if taken to its logical extreme, would give Congress a “police power” over all aspects of American life. Unfortunately, we have never come to grips with this implication of our substantial effects formula. Although we have supposedly applied the substantial effects test for the past 60 years, we always have rejected readings of the Commerce Clause and the scope of federal power that would permit Congress to exercise a police power; our cases are quite clear that there are real limits to federal power. See New York v. United States, 505 U. S. 144, 155 (1992) (“[N]o one disputes the proposition that ‘[t]he Constitution created a Federal Government of limited powers’ ”) (quoting Gregory v. Ashcroft, 501 U. S. 452, 457 (1991); Maryland v. Wirtz, 392 U. S. 183, 196 (1968); NLRB v. Jones & Laughlin Steel Corp., 301 U. S. 1, 37 (1937). Cf. Chisholm v. Georgia, 2 Dall. 419, 435 (1793) (Iredell, J.) (“Each State in the Union is sovereign as to all the powers reserved. It must necessarily be so, because the United States have no claim to any authority but such as the States have surrendered to them”) (emphasis deleted). Indeed, on this crucial point, the majority and Justice Breyer agree in principle: The Federal *585Government has nothing approaching a police power. Compare ante, at 556-558, with post, at 624.

While the principal dissent concedes that there are limits to federal power, the sweeping nature of our current test enables the dissent to argue that Congress can regulate gun possession. But it seems to me that the power to regulate “commerce” can by no means encompass authority over mere gun possession, any more than it empowers the Federal Government to regulate marriage, littering, or cruelty to animals, throughout the 50 States. Our Constitution quite properly leaves such matters to the individual States, notwithstanding these activities’ effects on interstate commerce. Any interpretation of the Commerce Clause that even suggests that Congress could regulate such matters is in need of reexamination.

In an appropriate case, I believe that we must further reconsider our “substantial effects” test with an eye toward constructing a standard that reflects the text and history of the Commerce Clause without totally rejecting our more recent Commerce Clause jurisprudence.

Today, however, I merely support the Court’s conclusion with a discussion of the text, structure, and history of the Commerce Clause and an analysis of our early case law. My goal is simply to show how far we have departed from the original understanding and to demonstrate that the result we reach today is by no means “radical,” see post, at 602 (Stevens, J., dissenting). I also want to point out the necessity of refashioning a coherent test that does not tend to “obliterate the distinction between what is national and what is local and create a completely centralized government.” Jones & Laughlin Steel Corp., supra, at 37.

I

At the time the original Constitution was ratified, “commerce” consisted of selling, buying, and bartering, as well as transporting for these purposes. See 1 S. Johnson, A Die*586tionary of the English Language 361 (4th ed. 1773) (defining commerce as “Intercourse; exchange of one thing for another; interchange of any thing; trade; traffick”); N. Bailey, An Universal Etymological English Dictionary (26th ed. 1789) (“trade or traffic”); T. Sheridan, A Complete Dictionary of the English Language (6th ed. 1796) (“Exchange of one thing for another; trade, traffick”). This understanding finds support in the etymology of the word, which literally means “with merchandise.” See 3 Oxford English Dictionary 552 (2d ed. 1989) (com — “with”; merci — “merchandise”). In fact, when Federalists and Anti-Federalists discussed the Commerce Clause during the ratification period, they often used trade (in its selling/bartering sense) and commerce interchangeably. See The Federalist No. 4, p. 22 (J. Jay) (asserting that countries will cultivate our friendship when our “trade” is prudently regulated by Federal Government);1 id., No. 7, at 39-40 (A. Hamilton) (discussing “competitions of commerce” between States resulting from state “regulations of trade”); id., No. 40, at 262 (J. Madison) (asserting that it was an “acknowledged object of the Convention .. . that the regulation of trade should be submitted to the general government”); Lee, Letters of a Federal Farmer No. 5, in Pamphlets on the Constitution of the United States 319 (P. Ford ed. 1888); Smith, An Address to the People of the State of New-York, in id., at 107.

As one would expect, the term “commerce” was used in contradistinction to productive activities such as manufacturing and agriculture. Alexander Hamilton, for example, repeatedly treated commerce, agriculture, and manufacturing as three separate endeavors. See, e. g., The Federalist No. 36, at 224 (referring to “agriculture, commerce, manufactures”); id., No. 21, at 133 (distinguishing commerce, arts, and industry); id., No. 12, at 74 (asserting that commerce and agriculture have shared interests). The same distinctions *587were made in the state ratification conventions. See, e. g., 2 Debates in the Several State Conventions on the Adoption of the Federal Constitution 57 (J. Elliot ed. 1836) (hereinafter Debates) (T. Dawes at Massachusetts convention); id., at 336 (M. Smith at New York convention).

Moreover, interjecting a modern sense of commerce into the Constitution generates significant textual and structural problems. For example, one cannot replace “commerce” with a different type of enterprise, such as manufacturing. When a manufacturer produces a car, assembly cannot take place “with a foreign nation” or “with the Indian Tribes.” Parts may come from different States or other nations and hence may have been in the flow of commerce at one time, but manufacturing takes place at a discrete site. Agriculture and manufacturing involve the production of goods; commerce encompasses traffic in such articles.

The Port Preference Clause also suggests that the term “commerce” denoted sale and/or transport rather than business generally. According to that Clause, “[n]o Preference shall be given by any Regulation of Commerce or Revenue to the Ports of one State over those of another.” U. S. Const., Art. I, § 9, cl. 6. Although it is possible to conceive of regulations of manufacturing or farming that prefer one port over another, the more natural reading is that the Clause prohibits Congress from using its commerce power to channel commerce through certain favored ports.

The Constitution not only uses the word “commerce” in a narrower sense than our case law might suggest, it also does not support the proposition that Congress has authority over all activities that “substantially affect” interstate commerce. The Commerce Clause2 does not state that Congress may *588“regulate matters that substantially affect commerce with foreign Nations, and among the several States, and with the Indian Tribes.” In contrast, the Constitution itself temporarily prohibited amendments that would “affect” Congress’ lack of authority to prohibit or restrict the slave trade or to enact unproportioned direct taxation. Art. V. Clearly, the Framers could have drafted a Constitution that contained a “substantially affects interstate commerce” Clause had that been their objective.

In addition to its powers under the Commerce Clause,' Congress has the authority to enact such laws as are “necessary and proper” to carry into execution its power to regulate commerce among the several States. U. S. Const., Art. I, § 8, cl. 18. But on this Court’s understanding of congressional power under these two Clauses, many of Congress’ other enumerated powers under Art. I, § 8, are wholly superfluous. After all, if Congress may regulate all matters that substantially affect commerce, there is no need for the Constitution to specify that Congress may enact bankruptcy laws, cl. 4, or coin money and fix the standard of weights and measures, cl. 5, or punish counterfeiters of United States coin and securities, cl. 6. Likewise, Congress would not need the separate authority to establish post offices and post roads, cl. 7, or to grant patents and copyrights, cl. 8, or to “punish Piracies and Felonies committed on the high Seas,” cl. 10. It might not even need the power to raise and support an Army and Navy, els. 12 and 13, for fewer people would engage in commercial shipping if they thought that a foreign power could expropriate their property with ease. Indeed, if Congress could regulate matters that substantially affect interstate commerce, there would have been no need to spec*589ify that Congress can regulate international trade and commerce with the Indians. As the Framers surely understood, these other branches of trade substantially affect interstate commerce.

Put simply, much if not all of Art. I, § 8 (including portions of the Commerce Clause itself), would be surplusage if Congress had been given authority over matters that substantially affect interstate commerce. An interpretation of cl. 3 that makes the rest of § 8 superfluous simply cannot be correct. Yet this Court’s Commerce Clause jurisprudence has endorsed just such an interpretation: The power we have accorded Congress has swallowed Art. I, § 8.3

Indeed, if a “substantial effects” test can be appended to the Commerce Clause, why not to every other power of the Federal Government? There is no reason for singling out the Commerce Clause for special treatment. Accordingly, Congress could regulate all matters that “substantially affect” the Army and Navy, bankruptcies, tax collection, expenditures, and so on. In that case, the Clauses of §8 all mutually overlap, something we can assume the Founding Fathers never intended.

Our construction of the scope of congressional authority has the additional problem of coming close to turning the Tenth Amendment on its head. Our case law could be read to reserve to the United States all powers not expressly prohibited by the Constitution. Taken together, these fundamental textual problems should, at the very least, convince us that the “substantial effects” test should be reexamined.

*590II

The exchanges during the ratification campaign reveal the relatively limited reach of the Commerce Clause and of federal power generally. The Founding Fathers confirmed that most areas of life (even many matters that would have substantial effects on commerce) would remain outside the reach of the Federal Government. Such affairs would continue to be under the exclusive control of the States.

Early Americans understood that commerce, manufacturing, and agriculture, while distinct activities, were intimately related and dependent on each other — that each “substantially affected” the others. After all, items produced by farmers and manufacturers were the primary articles of commerce at the time. If commerce was more robust as a result of federal superintendence, farmers and manufacturers could benefit. Thus, Oliver Ellsworth of Connecticut attempted to convince farmers of the benefits of regulating commerce. “Your property and riches depend on a ready demand and generous price for the produce you can annually spare,” he wrote, and these conditions exist “where trade flourishes and when the merchant can freely export the produce of the country” to nations that will pay the highest price. A Landholder No. 1, Connecticut Courant, Nov. 5, 1787, in 3 Documentary History of the Ratification of the Constitution 399 (M. Jensen ed. 1978) (hereinafter Documentary History). See also The Federalist No. 35, at 219 (A. Hamilton) (“[Discerning citizens are well aware that the mechanic and manufacturing arts furnish the materials of mercantile enterprise and industry. Many of them indeed are immediately connected with the operations of commerce. They know that the merchant is their natural patron and friend”); id., at 221 (“Will not the merchant... be disposed to cultivate ... the interests of the mechanic and manufacturing arts to which his commerce is so nearly allied?”); A Jerseyman: To the Citizens of New Jersey, Trenton Mercury, Nov. 6,1787, in 3 Documentary History 147 (noting that agriculture will serve as *591a “source of commerce”); Marcus, The New Jersey Journal, Nov. 14, 1787, id., at 152 (both the mechanic and the farmer benefit from the prosperity of commerce). William Davie, a delegate to the North Carolina Convention, illustrated the close link best: “Commerce, sir, is the nurse of [agriculture and manufacturing]. The merchant furnishes the planter with such articles as he cannot manufacture himself, and finds him a market for his produce. Agriculture cannot flourish if commerce languishes; they are mutually dependent on each other.” 4 Debates 20.

Yet, despite being well aware that agriculture, manufacturing, and other matters substantially affected commerce, the founding generation did not cede authority over all these activities to Congress. Hamilton, for instance, acknowledged that the Federal Government could not regulate agriculture and like concerns:

“The administration of private justice between the citizens of the same State, the supervision of agriculture and of other concerns of a similar nature, all those things in short which are proper to be provided for by local legislation, can never be desirable cares of a general jurisdiction.” The Federalist No. 17, at 106.

In the unlikely event that the Federal Government would attempt to exercise authority over such matters, its effort “would be as troublesome as it would be nugatory.” Ibid4

*592The comments of Hamilton and others about federal power reflected the well-known truth that the new Government would have only the limited and enumerated powers found in the Constitution. See, e. g., 2 Debates 267-268 (A. Hamilton at New York Convention) (noting that there would be just cause for rejecting the Constitution if it would enable the Federal Government to “alter, or abrogate ... [a State’s] civil and criminal institutions [or] penetrate the recesses of domestic life, and control, in all respects, the private conduct of individuals”); The Federalist No. 45, at 313 (J. Madison); 3 Debates 259 (J. Madison) (Virginia Convention); R. Sherman & O. Ellsworth, Letter to Governor Huntington, Sept. 26, 1787, in 3 Documentary History 352; J. Wilson, Speech in the State House Yard, Oct. 6, 1787, in 2 id., at 167-168. Agriculture and manufacture, since they were not surrendered to the Federal Government, were state concerns. See The Federalist No. 34, at 212-213 (A. Hamilton) (observing that the “internal encouragement of agriculture and manufactures” was an object of state expenditure). Even before the passage of the Tenth Amendment, it was apparent that Congress would possess only those powers “herein granted” by the rest of the Constitution. Art. I, § 1.

. Where the Constitution was meant to grant federal authority over an activity substantially affecting interstate commerce, the Constitution contains an enumerated power over that particular activity. Indeed, the Framers knew that many of the other enumerated powers in § 8 dealt with matters that substantially affected interstate commerce. Madison, for instance, spoke of the bankruptcy power as being “intimately connected with the regulation of commerce.” The Federalist No. 42, at 287. Likewise, Hamilton urged that “[i]f we mean to be a commercial people or even to be secure on our Atlantic side, we must endeavour as soon as possible to have a navy.” Id., No. 24, at 157.

In short, the Founding Fathers were well aware of what the principal dissent calls “‘economic . . . realities.’” See *593post, at 625 (Breyer, J.) (quoting North American Co. v. SEC, 327 U. S. 686, 705 (1946)). Even though the boundary between commerce and other matters may ignore “economic reality” and thus seem arbitrary or artificial to some, we must nevertheless respect a constitutional line that does not grant Congress power over all that substantially affects interstate commerce.

Ill

If the principal dissent’s understanding of our early case law were correct, there might be some reason to doubt this view of the original understanding of the Constitution. According to that dissent, Chief Justice Marshall’s opinion in Gibbons v. Ogden, 9 Wheat. 1 (1824), established that Congress may control all local activities that “significantly affect interstate commerce,” post, at 615. And, “with the exception of one wrong turn subsequently corrected,” this has been the “traditiona[l]” method of interpreting the Commerce Clause. Post, at 631 (citing Gibbons and United States v. Darby, 312 U. S. 100, 116-117 (1941)).

In my view, the dissent is wrong about the holding and reasoning of Gibbons. Because this error leads the dissent to characterize the first 150 years of this Court’s case law as a “wrong turn,” I feel compelled to put the last 50 years in proper perspective.

A

In Gibbons, the Court examined whether a federal law that licensed ships to engage in the “coasting trade” preempted a New York law granting a 30-year monopoly to Robert Livingston and Robert Fulton to navigate the State’s waterways by steamship. In concluding that it did, the Court noted that Congress could regulate “navigation” because “[a]ll America ... has uniformly understood, the word ‘commerce,’ to comprehend navigation. It was so understood, and must have been so understood, when the constitution was framed.” 9 Wheat., at 190. The Court also ob*594served that federal power over commerce “among the several States” meant that Congress could regulate commerce conducted partly within a State. Because a portion of interstate commerce and foreign commerce would almost always take place within one or more States, federal power over interstate and foreign commerce necessarily would extend into the States. Id., at 194-196.

At the same time, the Court took great pains to make clear that Congress could not regulate commerce “which is completely internal, which is carried on between man and man in a State, or between different parts of the same State, and which does not extend to or affect other States.” Id., at 194. Moreover, while suggesting that the Constitution might not permit States to regulate interstate or foreign commerce, the Court observed that “[inspection laws, quarantine laws, health laws of every description, as well as laws for regulating the internal commerce of a State” were but a small part “of that immense mass of legislation . . . not surrendered to a general government.” Id., at 203. From an early moment, the Court rejected the notion that Congress can regulate everything that affects interstate commerce. That the internal commerce of the States and the numerous state inspection, quarantine, and health laws had substantial effects on interstate commerce cannot be doubted. Nevertheless, they were not “surrendered to the general government.”

Of course, the principal dissent is not the first to misconstrue Gibbons. For instance, the Court has stated that Gibbons “described the federal commerce power with a breadth never yet exceeded.” Wickard v. Filburn, 317 U. S. 111, 120 (1942). See also Perez v. United States, 402 U. S. 146, 151 (1971) (claiming that with Darby and Wickard, “the broader view of the Commerce Clause announced by Chief Justice Marshall had been restored”). I believe that this misreading stems from two statements in Gibbons.

First, the Court made the uncontroversial claim that federal power does not encompass “commerce” that “does *595not extend to or affect other States.” 9 Wheat., at 194 (emphasis added). From this statement, the principal dissent infers that whenever an activity affects interstate commerce, it necessarily follows that Congress can regulate such activities. Of course, Chief Justice Marshall said no such thing and the inference the dissent makes cannot be drawn.

There is a much better interpretation of the “affect[s]” language: Because the Court had earlier noted that the commerce power did not extend to wholly intrastate commerce, the Court was acknowledging that although the line between intrastate and interstate/foreign commerce would be difficult to draw, federal authority could not be construed to cover purely intrastate commerce. Commerce that did not affect another State could never be said to be commerce “among the several States.”

But even if one were to adopt the dissent’s reading, the “affect[s]” language, at most, permits Congress to regulate only intrastate commerce that substantially affects interstate and foreign commerce. There is no reason to believe that Chief Justice Marshall was asserting that Congress could regulate all activities that affect interstate commerce. See ibid.

The second source of confusion stems from the Court’s praise for the Constitution’s division of power between the States and the Federal Government:

“The genius and character of the whole government seem to be, that its action is to be applied to all the external concerns of the nation, and to those internal concerns which affect the States generally; but not to those which are completely within a particular State, which do not affect other States, and with which it is not necessary to interfere, for the purpose of executing some of the general powers of the government.” Id., at 195.

*596In this passage, the Court merely was making the well understood point that the Constitution commits matters of “national” concern to Congress and leaves “local” matters to the States. The Court was not saying that whatever Congress believes is a national matter becomes an object of federal control. The matters of national concern are enumerated in the Constitution: war, taxes, patents, and copyrights, uniform rules of naturalization and bankruptcy, types of commerce, and so on. See generally Art. I, § 8. Gibbons’ emphatic statements that Congress could not regulate many matters that affect commerce confirm that the Court did not read the Commerce Clause as granting Congress control over matters that “affect the States generally.”5 Gibbons simply cannot be construed as the principal dissent would have it.

B

I am aware of no cases prior to the New Deal that characterized the power flowing from the Commerce Clause as sweepingly as does our substantial effects test. My review of the case law indicates that the substantial effects test is but an innovation of the 20th century.

Even before Gibbons, Chief Justice Marshall, writing for the Court in Cohens v. Virginia, 6 Wheat. 264 (1821), noted that Congress had “no general right to punish murder committed within any of the States,” id., at 426, and that it was “clear that congress cannot punish felonies generally,” id., at 428. The Court’s only qualification was that Congress could enact such laws for places where it enjoyed plenary powers — for instance, over the District of Columbia. Id., at 426. Thus, whatever effect ordinary murders, or robbery, or gun possession might have on interstate commerce (or on any *597other subject of federal concern) was irrelevant to the question of congressional power.6

United States v. Dewitt, 9 Wall. 41 (1870), marked the first time the Court struck down a federal law as exceeding the power conveyed by the Commerce Clause. In a two-page opinion, the Court invalidated a nationwide law prohibiting all sales of naphtha and illuminating oils. In so doing, the Court remarked that the Commerce Clause “has always been understood as limited by its terms; and as a virtual denial of any power to interfere with the internal trade and business of the separate States.” Id., at 44. The law in question was “plainly a regulation of police,” which could have constitutional application-only where Congress had exclusive authority, such as the territories. Id., at 44-45. See also License Tax Cases, 5 Wall. 462, 470-471 (1867) (Congress cannot interfere with the internal commerce and business of a State); Trade-Mark Cases, 100 U. S. 82 (1879) (Congress *598cannot regulate internal commerce and thus may not establish national trademark registration).

In United States v. E. C. Knight Co., 156 U. S. 1 (1895), this Court held that mere attempts to monopolize the manufacture of sugar could not be regulated pursuant to the Commerce Clause. Raising echoes of the discussions of the Framers regarding the intimate relationship between commerce and manufacturing, the Court declared that “Commerce succeeds to manufacture, and is not a part of it.” Id., at 12. The Court also approvingly quoted from Kidd v. Pearson, 128 U. S. 1, 20 (1888):

‘“No distinction is more popular to the common mind, or more clearly expressed in economic and political literature, than that between manufacture and commerce .... If it be held that the term [commerce] includes the regulation of all such manufactures as are intended to be the subject of commercial transactions in the future, it is impossible to deny that it would also include all productive industries that contemplate the same thing. The result would be that Congress would be invested ... with the power to regulate, not only manufactures, but also agriculture, horticulture, stock raising, domestic fisheries, mining — in short, every branch of human industry.’” E. C. Knight, supra, at 14.,

If federal power extended to these types of production “comparatively little of business operations and affairs would be left for state control.” Id., at 16. See also Newberry v. United States, 256 U. S. 232, 257 (1921) (“It is settled ... that the power to regulate interstate and foreign commerce does not reach whatever is essential thereto. Without agriculture, manufacturing, mining, etc., commerce could not exist, but this fact does not suffice to subject them to the control of Congress”). Whether or not manufacturing, agriculture, or other matters substantially affected interstate commerce was irrelevant.

*599As recently as 1936, the Court continued to insist that the Commerce Clause did not reach the wholly internal business of the States. See Carter v. Carter Coal Co., 298 U. S. 238, 308 (1936) (Congress may not regulate mine labor because “[t]he relation of employer and employee is a local relation”); see also A. L. A. Schechter Poultry Corp. v. United States, 295 U. S. 495, 543-550 (1935) (holding that Congress may not regulate intrastate sales of sick chickens or the labor of employees involved in intrastate poultry sales). The Federal Government simply could not reach such subjects regardless of their effects on interstate commerce.

These cases all establish a simple point: From the time of the ratification of the Constitution to the mid-1930’s, it was widely understood that the Constitution granted Congress only limited powers, notwithstanding the Commerce Clause.7 Moreover, there was no question that activities wholly separated from business, such as gun possession, were beyond the reach of the commerce power. If anything, the “wrong turn” was the Court’s dramatic departure in the 1930’s from a century and a half of precedent.

IV

Apart from its recent vintage and its corresponding lack of any grounding in the original understanding of the Constitution, the substantial effects test suffers from the further *600flaw that it appears to grant Congress a police power over the Nation. When asked at oral argument if there were any limits to the Commerce Clause, the Government was at a loss for words. Tr. of Oral Arg. 5. Likewise, the principal dissent insists that there are limits, but it cannot muster even one example. Post, at 624. Indeed, the dissent implicitly concedes that its reading has no limits when it criticizes the Court for “threatening] legal uncertainty in an area of law that. . . seemed reasonably well settled.” Post, at 630. The one advantage of the dissent’s standard is certainty: It is certain that under its analysis everything may be regulated under the guise of the Commerce Clause.

The substantial effects test suffers from this flaw, in part, because of its “aggregation principle.” Under so-called “class of activities” statutes, Congress can regulate whole categories of activities that are not themselves either “interstate” or “commerce.” In applying the effects test, we ask whether the class of activities as a whole substantially affects interstate commerce, not whether any specific activity within the class has such effects when considered in isolation. See Maryland v. Wirtz, 392 U. S., at 192-193 (if class of activities is “ ‘within the reach of federal power,’ ” courts may not excise individual applications as trivial) (quoting Darby, 312 U. S., at 120-121).

The aggregation principle is clever, but has no stopping point. Suppose all would agree that gun possession within 1,000 feet of a school does not substantially affect commerce, but that possession of weapons generally (knives, brass knuckles, nunchakus, etc.) does. Under our substantial effects doctrine, even though Congress cannot single out gun possession, it can prohibit weapon possession generally. But one always can draw the circle broadly enough to cover an activity that, when taken in isolation, would not have substantial effects on commerce. Under our jurisprudence, if Congress passed an omnibus “substantially affects interstate commerce” statute, purporting to regulate every aspect of human existence, the Act apparently would be constitutional. *601Even though particular sections may govern only trivial activities, the statute in the aggregate regulates matters that substantially affect commerce.

V

This extended discussion of the original understanding and our first century and a half of case law does not necessarily require a wholesale abandonment of our more recent opinions.8 It simply reveals that our substantial effects test is far removed from both the Constitution and from our early case law and that the Court’s opinion should not be viewed as “radical” or another “wrong turn” that must be corrected in the future.9 The analysis also suggests that we ought to temper our Commerce Clause jurisprudence.

*602Unless the dissenting Justices are willing to repudiate our long-held understanding of the limited nature of federal power, I would think that they, too, must be willing to reconsider the substantial effects test in a future case. If we wish to be true to a Constitution that does not cede a police power to the Federal Government, our Commerce Clause’s boundaries simply cannot be “defined” as being “ ‘commensurate with the national needs’ ” or self-consciously intended to let the Federal Government “‘defend itself against economic forces that Congress decrees inimical or destructive of the national economy.’ ” See post, at 625 (Breyer, J., dissenting) (quoting North American Co. v. SEC, 327 U. S., at 705). Such a formulation of federal power is no test at all: It is a blank check.

At an appropriate juncture, I think we must modify our Commerce Clause jurisprudence. Today, it is easy enough to say that the Clause certainly does not empower Congress to ban gun possession within 1,000 feet of a school.

Justice Stevens,

dissenting.

The welfare of our future “Commerce with foreign Nations, and among the several States,” U. S. Const., Art. I, § 8, cl. 3, is vitally dependent on the character of the education of our children. I therefore agree entirely with Justice Breyer’s explanation of why Congress has ample power to prohibit the possession of firearms in or near schools — just as it may protect the school environment from harms posed by controlled substances such as asbestos or alcohol. I also agree with Justice Souter’s exposition of the radical character of the Court’s holding and its kinship with the discredited, pre-Depression version of substantive due process. Cf. Dolan v. City of Tigard, 512 U. S. 374, 4 05-411 (1994) (Stevens, J., dissenting). I believe, however, that the Court’s extraordinary decision merits this additional comment.

Guns are both articles of commerce and articles that can be used to restrain commerce. Their possession is the con*603sequence, either directly or indirectly, of commercial activity. In my judgment, Congress’ power to regulate commerce in firearms includes the power to prohibit possession of guns at any location because of their potentially harmful use; it necessarily follows that Congress may also prohibit their possession in particular markets. The market for the possession of handguns by school-age children is, distressingly, substantial.* Whether or not the national interest in eliminating that market would have justified federal legislation in 1789, it surely does today.

Justice Souter,

dissenting.

In reviewing congressional legislation under the Commerce Clause, we defer to what is often a merely implicit congressional judgment that its regulation addresses a subject substantially affecting interstate commerce “if there is any rational basis for such a finding.” Hodel v. Virginia Surface Mining & Reclamation Assn., Inc., 452 U. S. 264, 276 (1981); Preseault v. ICC, 494 U. S. 1, 17 (1990); see Maryland v. Wirtz, 392 U. S. 183, 190 (1968), quoting Katzenbach v. McClung, 379 U. S. 294, 303-304 (1964). If that congressional determination is within the realm of reason, “the only remaining question for judicial inquiry is whether ‘the means chosen by Congress [are] reasonably adapted to the end permitted by the Constitution.’” Hodel v. Virginia Surface Mining & Reclamation Assn., Inc., supra, at 276, quoting Heart of Atlanta Motel, Inc. v. United States, 379 U. S. 241, 262 (1964); see also Preseault v. ICC, supra, at 17.1

*604The practice of deferring to rationally based legislative judgments “is a paradigm of judicial restraint.” FCC v. Beach Communications, Inc., 508 U. S. 307, 314 (1993). In judicial review under the Commerce Clause, it reflects our respect for the institutional competence of the Congress on a subject expressly assigned to it by the Constitution and our appreciation of the legitimacy that comes from Congress’s political accountability in dealing with matters open to a wide range of possible choices. See id., at 313-316; Hodel v. Virginia Surface Mining & Reclamation Assn., Inc., supra, at 276; United States v. Carotene Products Co., 304 U. S. 144, 147, 151-154 (1938); cf. Williamson v. Lee Optical of Okla., Inc., 348 U. S. 483, 488 (1955).

It was not ever thus, however, as even a brief overview of Commerce Clause history during the past century reminds us. The modern respect for the competence and primacy of Congress in matters affecting commerce developed only after one of this Court’s most chastening experiences, when it perforce repudiated an earlier and untenably expansive conception of judicial review in derogation of congressional commerce power. A look at history’s sequence will serve to show how today’s decision tugs the Court off course, leading it to suggest opportunities for further developments that would be at odds with the rule of restraint to which the Court still wisely states adherence.

I

Notwithstanding the Court’s recognition of a broad commerce power in Gibbons v. Ogden, 9 Wheat. 1, 196-197 (1824) (Marshall, C. J.), Congress saw few occasions to exercise that power prior to Reconstruction, see generally 2 C. Warren, The Supreme Court in United States History 729-739 (rev. ed. 1935), and it was really the passage of the Interstate Commerce Act of 1887 that opened a new age of congressional reliance on the Commerce Clause for authority to exercise general police powers at the national level, see id., at *605729-730. Although the Court upheld a fair amount of the ensuing legislation as being within the commerce power, see, e. g., Stafford v. Wallace, 258 U. S. 495 (1922) (upholding an Act regulating trade practices in the meat packing industry); Shreveport Rate Cases, 234 U. S. 342 (1914) (upholding Interstate Commerce Commission order to equalize interstate and intrastate rail rates); see generally Warren, supra, at 729-739, the period from the turn of the century to 1937 is better noted for a series of cases applying highly formalistic notions of “commerce” to invalidate federal social and economic legislation, see, e. g., Carter v. Carter Coal Co., 298 U. S. 238, 303-304 (1936) (striking Act prohibiting unfair labor practices in coal industry as regulation of “mining” and “production,” not “commerce”); A. L. A. Schechter Poultry Corp. v. United States, 295 U. S. 495, 545-548 (1935) (striking congressional regulation of activities affecting interstate commerce only “indirectly”); Hammer v. Dagenhart, 247 U. S. 251 (1918) (striking Act prohibiting shipment in interstate commerce of goods manufactured at factories using child labor because the Act regulated “manufacturing,” not “commerce”); Adair v. United States, 208 U. S. 161 (1908) (striking protection of labor union membership as outside “commerce”).

These restrictive views of commerce subject to congressional power complemented the Court’s activism in limiting the enforceable scope of state economic regulation. It is most familiar history that during this same period the Court routinely invalidated state social and economic legislation under an expansive conception of Fourteenth Amendment substantive due process. See, e. g., Louis K. Liggett Co. v. Baldridge, 278 U. S. 105 (1928) (striking state law requiring pharmacy owners to be licensed as pharmacists); Coppage v. Kansas, 236 U. S. 1 (1915) (striking state law prohibiting employers from requiring their employees to agree not to join labor organizations); Lochner v. New York, 198 U. S. 45 (1905) (striking state law establishing maximum working hours for bakers). See generally L. Tribe, American Consti*606tutional Law 568-574 (2d ed. 1988). The fulcrums of judicial review in these cases were the notions of liberty and property characteristic of laissez-faire economics, whereas the Commerce Clause cases turned on what was ostensibly a structural limit of federal power, but under each conception of judicial review the Court’s character for the first third of the century showed itself in exacting judicial scrutiny of a legislature’s choice of economic ends and of the legislative means selected to reach them.

It was not merely coincidental, then, that sea changes in the Court’s conceptions of its authority under the Due Process and Commerce Clauses occurred virtually together, in 1937, with West Coast Hotel Co. v. Parrish, 300 U. S. 379, and NLRB v. Jones & Laughlin Steel Corp., 301 U. S. 1. See Stern, The Commerce Clause and the National Economy, 1933-1946, 59 Harv. L. Rev. 645, 674-682 (1946). In West Coast Hotel, the Court’s rejection of a due process challenge to a state law fixing minimum wages for women and children marked the abandonment of its expansive protection of contractual freedom. Two weeks later, Jones & Laughlin affirmed congressional commerce power to authorize NLRB injunctions against unfair labor practices. The Court’s finding that the regulated activity had a direct enough effect on commerce has since been seen as beginning the abandonment, for practical purposes, of the formalistic distinction between direct and indirect effects.

In the years following these decisions, deference to legislative policy judgments on commercial regulation became the powerful theme under both the Due Process and Commerce Clauses, see United States v. Carolene Products Co., 304 U. S., at 147-148, 152; United States v. Darby, 312 U. S. 100, 119-121 (1941); United States v. Wrightwood Dairy Co., 315 U. S. 110, 118-119 (1942), and in due course that deference became articulate in the standard of rationality review. In due process litigation, the Court’s statement of a rational *607basis test came quickly. See United States v. Carolene Products Co., supra, at 152; see also Williamson v. Lee Optical Co., supra, at 489-490. The parallel formulation of the Commerce Clause test came later, only because complete elimination of the direct/indirect effects dichotomy and acceptance of the cumulative effects doctrine, Wickard v. Filburn, 317 U. S. 111, 125, 127-129 (1942); United States v. Wrightwood Dairy Co., supra, at 124-126, so far settled the pressing issues of congressional power over commerce as to leave the Court for years without any need to phrase a test explicitly deferring to rational legislative judgments. The moment came, however, with the challenge to congressional Commerce Clause authority to prohibit racial discrimination in places of public accommodation, when the Court simply made explicit what the earlier cases had implied: “where we find that the legislators, in light of the facts and testimony before them, have a rational basis for finding a chosen regulatory scheme necessary to the protection of commerce, our investigation is at an end.” Katzenbach v. McClung, 379 U. S., at 303-304, discussing United States v. Darby, supra; see Heart of Atlanta Motel, Inc. v. United States, 379 U. S., at 258-259. Thus, under commerce, as under due process, adoption of rational basis review expressed the recognition that the Court had no sustainable basis for subjecting economic regulation as such to judicial policy judgments, and for the past half century the Court has no more turned back in the direction of formalistic Commerce Clause review (as in deciding whether regulation of commerce was sufficiently direct) than it has inclined toward reasserting the substantive authority of Lochner due process (as in the inflated protection of contractual autonomy). See, e. g., Maryland v. Wirtz, 392 U. S., at 190, 198; Perez v. United States, 402 U. S. 146, 151-157 (1971); Hodel v. Virginia Surface Mining & Reclamation Assn., Inc., 452 U. S., at 276, 277.

*608II

There is today, however, a backward glance at both the old pitfalls, as the Court treats deference under the rationality rule as subject to gradation according to the commercial or noncommercial nature of the immediate subject of the challenged regulation. See ante, at 558-561. The distinction between what is patently commercial and what is not looks much like the old distinction between what directly affects commerce and what touches it only indirectly. And the act of calibrating the level of deference by drawing a line between what is patently commercial and what is less purely so will probably resemble the process of deciding how much interference with contractual freedom was fatal. Thus, it seems fair to ask whether the step taken by the Court today does anything but portend a return to the untenable jurisprudence from which the Court extricated itself almost 60 years ago. The answer is not reassuring. To be sure, the occasion for today’s decision reflects the century’s end, not its beginning. But if it seems anomalous that the Congress of the United States has taken to regulating school yards, the Act in question is still probably no more remarkable than state regulation of bake shops 90 years ago. In any event, there is no reason to hope that the Court’s qualification of rational basis review will be any more successful than the efforts at substantive economic review made by our predecessors as the century began. Taking the Court’s opinion on its own terms, Justice Breyer has explained both the hopeless porosity of “commercial” character as a ground of Commerce Clause distinction in America’s highly connected economy, and the inconsistency of this categorization with our rational basis precedents from the last 50 years.

Further glosses on rationality review, moreover, may be in the offing. Although this case turns on commercial character, the Court gestures toward two other considerations that it might sometime entertain in applying rational basis *609scrutiny (apart from a statutory obligation to supply independent proof of a jurisdictional element): does the congressional statute deal with subjects of traditional state regulation, and does the statute contain explicit factual findings supporting the otherwise implicit determination that the regulated activity substantially affects interstate commerce? Once again, any appeal these considerations may have depends on ignoring the painful lesson learned in 1937, for neither of the Court’s suggestions would square with rational basis scrutiny.

A

The Court observes that the Gun-Free School Zones Act operates in two areas traditionally subject to legislation by the States, education and enforcement of criminal law. The suggestion is either that a connection between commerce and these subjects is remote, or that the commerce power is simply weaker when it touches subjects on which the States have historically been the primary legislators. Neither suggestion is tenable. As for remoteness, it may or may not be wise for the National Government to deal with education, but Justice Breyer has surely demonstrated that the commercial prospects of an illiterate State or Nation are not rosy, and no argument should be needed to show that hijacking interstate shipments of cigarettes can affect commerce substantially, even though the States have traditionally prosecuted robbery. And as for the notion that the commerce power diminishes the closer it gets to customary state concerns, that idea has been flatly rejected, and not long ago. The commerce power, we have often observed, is plenary. Hodel v. Virginia Surface Mining & Reclamation Assn., Inc., supra, at 276; United States v. Darby, 312 U. S., at 114; see Garcia v. San Antonio Metropolitan Transit Authority, 469 U. S. 528, 549-550 (1985); Gibbons v. Ogden, 9 Wheat., at 196-197. Justice Harlan put it this way in speaking for the Court in Maryland v. Wirtz:

*610“There is no general doctrine implied in the Federal Constitution that the two governments, national and state, are each to exercise its powers so as not to interfere with the free and full exercise of the powers of the other. . . . [I]t is clear that the Federal Government, when acting within a delegated power, may override countervailing state interests .... As long ago as [1925], the Court put to rest the contention that state concerns might constitutionally ‘outweigh’ the importance of an otherwise valid federal statute regulating commerce.” 392 U. S., at 195-196 (citations and internal quotation marks omitted).

See also United States v. Darby, supra, at 114; Gregory v. Ashcroft, 501 U. S. 452, 460 (1991); United States v. Carolene Products Co., 304 U. S., at 147.

Nor is there any contrary authority in the reasoning of our cases imposing clear statement rules in some instances of legislation that would significantly alter the state-national balance. In the absence of a clear statement of congressional design, for example, we have refused to interpret ambiguous federal statutes to limit fundamental state legislative prerogatives, Gregory v. Ashcroft, supra, at 460-464, our understanding being that such prerogatives, through which “a State defines itself as a sovereign,” are “powers with which Congress does not readily interfere,” 501 U. S., at 460, 461. Likewise, when faced with two plausible interpretations of a federal criminal statute, we generally will take the alternative that does not force us to impute an intention to Congress to use its full commerce power to regulate conduct traditionally and ably regulated by the States. See United States v. Enmons, 410 U. S. 396, 411-412 (1973); United States v. Bass, 404 U. S. 336, 349-350 (1971); Rewis v. United States, 401 U. S. 808, 812 (1971).

These clear statement rules, however, are merely rules of statutory interpretation, to be relied upon only when the *611terms of a statute allow, United States v. Culbert, 435 U. S. 371, 379-380 (1978); see Gregory v. Ashcroft, supra, at 470; United States v. Bass, supra, at 346-347, and in cases implicating Congress’s historical reluctance to trench on state legislative prerogatives or to enter into spheres already occupied by the States, Gregory v. Ashcroft, supra, at 461; United States v. Bass, supra, at 349; see Rewis v. United States, supra, at 811-812. They are rules for determining intent when legislation leaves intent subject to question. But our hesitance to presume that Congress has acted to alter the state-federal status quo (when presented with a plausible alternative) has no relevance whatever to the enquiry whether it has the commerce power to do so or to the standard of judicial review when Congress has definitely meant to exercise that power. Indeed, to allow our hesitance to affect the standard of review would inevitably degenerate into the sort of substantive policy review that the Court found indefensible 60 years ago. The Court does not assert (and could not plausibly maintain) that the commerce power is wholly devoid of congressional authority to speak on any subject of traditional state concern; but if congressional action is not forbidden absolutely when it touches such a subject, it will stand or fall depending on the Court’s view of the strength of the legislation’s commercial justification. And here once again history raises its objections that the Court’s previous essays in overriding congressional policy choices under the Commerce Clause were ultimately seen to suffer two fatal weaknesses: when dealing with Acts of Congress (as distinct from state legislation subject to review under the theory of dormant commerce power) nothing in the Clause compelled the judicial activism, and nothing about the judiciary as an institution made it a superior source of policy on the subject Congress dealt with. There is no reason to expect the lesson would be different another time.

*612B

There remain questions about legislative findings. The Court of Appeals expressed the view, 2 F. 8d 1342, 1363-1368 (CA5 1993), that the result in this case might well have been different if Congress had made explicit findings that guns in schools have a substantial effect on interstate commerce, and the Court today does not repudiate that position, see ante, at 562-563. Might a court aided by such findings have subjected this legislation to less exacting scrutiny (or, put another way, should a court have deferred to such findings if Congress had made them)?2 The answer to either question must be no, although as a general matter findings are important and to be hoped for in the difficult cases.

It is only natural to look for help with a hard job, and reviewing a claim that Congress has exceeded the commerce power is much harder in some cases than in others. A challenge to congressional regulation of interstate garbage hauling would be easy to resolve; review of congressional regulation of gun possession in school yards is more difficult, both because the link to interstate commerce is less obvious and because of our initial ignorance of the relevant facts. In a *613case comparable to this one, we may have to dig hard to make a responsible judgment about what Congress could reasonably find, because the case may be close, and because judges tend not to be familiar with the facts that may or may not make it close. But while the ease of review may vary from case to case, it does not follow that the standard of review should vary, much less that explicit findings of fact would even directly address the standard.

The question for the courts, as all agree, is not whether as a predicate to legislation Congress in fact found that a particular activity substantially affects interstate commerce. The legislation implies such a finding, and there is no reason to entertain claims that Congress acted ultra vires intentionally. Nor is the question whether Congress was correct in so finding. The only question is whether the legislative judgment is within the realm of reason. See Hodel v. Virginia Surface Mining & Reclamation Assn., Inc., 452 U. S., at 276-277; Katzenbach v. McClung, 379 U. S., at 303-304; Railroad Retirement Bd. v. Alton R. Co., 295 U. S. 330, 391-392 (1935) (Hughes, C. J., dissenting); cf. FCC v. Beach Communications, Inc., 508 U. S., at 315 (in the equal protection context, “those attacking the rationality of the legislative classification have the burden to negate every conceivable basis which might support it[;] ... it is entirely irrelevant for constitutional purposes whether the conceived reason for the challenged distinction actually motivated the legislature”) (citations and internal quotation marks omitted); Ferguson v. Skrupa, 372 U. S. 726, 731-733 (1963); Williamson v. Lee Optical Co., 348 U. S., at 487. Congressional findings do not, however, directly address the question of reasonableness; they tell us what Congress actually has found, not what it could rationally find. If, indeed, the Court were to make the existence of explicit congressional findings dispositive in some close or difficult cases something other than rationality review would be afoot. The resulting congressional obligation to justify its policy choices on the merits would imply *614either a judicial authority to review the justification (and, hence, the wisdom) of those choices, or authority to require Congress to act with some high degree of deliberateness, of which express findings would be evidence. But review for congressional wisdom would just be the old judicial pretension discredited and abandoned in 1987, and review for deliberateness would be as patently unconstitutional as an Act of Congress mandating long opinions from this Court. Such a legislative process requirement would function merely as an excuse for covert review of the merits of legislation under standards never expressed and more or less arbitrarily applied. Under such a regime, in any case, the rationality standard of review would be a thing of the past.

On the other hand, to say that courts applying the rationality standard may not defer to findings is not, of course, to say that findings are pointless. They may, in fact, have great value in telling courts what to look for, in establishing at least one frame of reference for review, and in citing to factual authority. The research underlying Justice Breyer’s dissent was necessarily a major undertaking; help is welcome, and it not incidentally shrinks the risk that judicial research will miss material scattered across the public domain or buried under pounds of legislative record. Congressional findings on a more particular plane than this record illustrates would accordingly have earned judicial thanks. But thanks do not carry the day as long as rational possibility is the touchstone, and I would not allow for the possibility, as the Court’s opinion may, ante, at 563, that the addition of congressional findings could in principle have affected the fate of the statute here.

Ill

Because Justice Breyer’s opinion demonstrates beyond any doubt that the Act in question passes the rationality review that the Court continues to espouse, today’s decision may be seen as only a misstep, its reasoning and its sugges*615tions not quite in gear with the prevailing standard, but hardly an epochal case. I would not argue otherwise, but I would raise a caveat. Not every epochal case has come in epochal trappings. Jones & Laughlin did not reject the direct-indirect standard in so many words; it just said the relation of the regulated subject matter to commerce was direct enough. 301 U. S., at 41-43. But we know what happened.

I respectfully dissent.

Justice Breyer,

with whom Justice Stevens, Justice Souter, and Justice Ginsburg join,

dissenting.

The issue in this case is whether the Commerce Clause authorizes Congress to enact a statute that makes it a crime to possess a gun in, or near, a school. 18 U. S. C. § 922(q)(1)(A) (1988 ed., Supp. V). In my view, the statute falls well within the scope of the commerce power as this Court has understood that power over the last half century.

I

In reaching this conclusion, I apply three basic principles of Commerce Clause interpretation. First, the power to “regulate Commerce . . . among the several States,” U. S. Const., Art. I, § 8, cl. 3, encompasses the power to regulate local activities insofar as they significantly affect interstate commerce. See, e. g., Gibbons v. Ogden, 9 Wheat. 1, 194-195 (1824) (Marshall, C. J.); Wickard v. Filburn, 317 U. S. 111, 125 (1942). As the majority points out, ante, at 559, the Court, in describing how much of an effect the Clause requires, sometimes has used the word “substantial” and sometimes has not. Compare, e. g., Wickard, supra, at 125 (“substantial economic effect”), with Hodel v. Virginia Surface Mining & Reclamation Assn., Inc., 452 U. S. 264, 276 (1981) (“affects interstate commerce”); see also Maryland v. Wirtz, 392 U. S. 183, 196, n. 27 (1968) (cumulative effect must not be “trivial”); NLRB v. Jones & Laughlin Steel Corp., 301 U. S. 1, 37 (1937) *616(speaking of “close and substantial relation” between activity and commerce, not of “substantial effect”) (emphasis added); Gibbons, supra, at 194 (words of Commerce Clause do not “comprehend ... commerce, which is completely internal .. . and which does not. . . affect other States”). And, as the majority also recognizes in quoting Justice Cardozo, the question of degree (how much effect) requires an estimate of the “size” of the effect that no verbal formulation can capture with precision. See ante, at 567. I use the word “significant” because the word “substantial” implies a somewhat narrower power than recent precedent suggests. See, e. g., Perez v. United States, 402 U. S. 146, 154 (1971); Daniel v. Paul, 395 U. S. 298, 308 (1969). But to speak of “substantial effect” rather than “significant effect” would make no difference in this case.

Second, in determining whether a local activity will likely have a significant effect upon interstate commerce, a court must consider, not the effect of an individual act (a single instance of gun possession), but rather the cumulative effect of all similar instances (i. e., the effect of all guns possessed in or near schools). See, e. g., Wickard, supra, at 127-128. As this Court put the matter almost 50 years ago:

“[I]t is enough that the individual activity when multiplied into a general practice ... contains a threat to the interstate economy that requires preventative regulation.” Mandeville Island Farms, Inc. v. American Crystal Sugar Co., 334 U. S. 219, 236 (1948) (citations omitted).

Third, the Constitution requires us to judge the connection between a regulated activity and interstate commerce, not directly, but at one remove. Courts must give Congress a degree of leeway in determining the existence of a significant factual connection between the regulated activity and interstate commerce — both because the Constitution delegates the commerce power directly to Congress and because the *617determination requires an empirical judgment of a kind that a legislature is more likely than a court to make with accuracy. The traditional words “rational basis” capture this leeway. See Hodel, supra, at 276-277. Thus, the specific question before us, as the Court recognizes, is not whether the “regulated activity sufficiently affected interstate commerce,” but, rather, whether Congress could have had “a rational basis” for so concluding. Ante, at 557 (emphasis added).

I recognize that we must judge this matter independently. “[SJimply because Congress may conclude that a particular activity substantially affects interstate commerce does not necessarily make it so.” Hodel, supra, at 311 (Rehnquist, J., concurring in judgment). And, I also recognize that Congress did not write specific “interstate commerce” findings into the law under which Lopez was convicted. Nonetheless, as I have already noted, the matter that we review independently (i. e., whether there is a “rational basis”) already has considerable leeway built into it. And, the absence of findings, at most, deprives a statute of the benefit of some extra leeway. This extra deference, in principle, might change the result in a close case, though, in practice, it has not made a critical legal difference. See, e. g., Katzenbach v. McClung, 379 U. S. 294, 299 (1964) (noting that “no formal findings were made, which of course are not necessary”); Perez, supra, at 156-157; cf. Turner Broadcasting System, Inc. v. FCC, 512 U. S. 622, 666 (1994) (opinion of Kennedy, J.) (“Congress is not obligated, when enacting its statutes, to make a record of the type that an administrative agency or court does to accommodate judicial review”); Fullilove v. Klutznick, 448 U. S. 448, 503 (1980) (Powell, J., concurring) (“After Congress has legislated repeatedly in an area of national concern, its Members gain experience that may reduce the need for fresh hearings or prolonged debate . . .”). It would seem particularly unfortunate to make the validity of *618the statute at hand turn on the presence or absence of findings. Because Congress did make findings (though not until after Lopez was prosecuted), doing so would appear to elevate form over substance. See Pub. L. 103-322, §§ 320904 (2)(F), (G), 108 Stat. 2125, 18 U. S. C. §§ 922(q)(1)(F), (G).

In addition, despite the Court of Appeals’ suggestion to the contrary, see 2 F. 3d 1342, 1365 (CA5 1993), there is no special need here for a clear indication of Congress’ rationale. The statute does not interfere with the exercise of state or local authority. Cf., e. g., Dellmuth v. Muth, 491 U. S. 223, 227-228 (1989) (requiring clear statement for abrogation of Eleventh Amendment immunity). Moreover, any clear statement rule would apply only to determine Congress’ intended result, not to clarify the source of its authority or measure the level of consideration that went into its decision, and here there is no doubt as to which activities Congress intended to regulate. See ibid.; id., at 233 (Scalia, J., concurring) (to subject States to suits for money damages, Congress need only make that intent clear, and need not refer explicitly to the Eleventh Amendment); EEOC v. Wyoming, 460 U. S. 226, 243, n. 18 (1983) (Congress need not recite the constitutional provision that authorizes its action).

II

Applying these principles to the case at hand, we must ask whether Congress could have had a rational basis for finding a significant (or substantial) connection between gun-related school violence and interstate commerce. Or, to put the question in the language of the explicit finding that Congress made when it amended this law in 1994: Could Congress rationally have found that “violent crime in school zones,” through its effect on the “quality of education,” significantly (or substantially) affects “interstate” or “foreign commerce”? 18 U. S. C. §§ 922(q)(1)(F), (G). As long as one views the commerce connection, not as a “technical legal conception,” but as “a practical one,” Swift & Co. v. United States, 196 *619U. S. 375, 398 (1905) (Holmes, J.), the answer to this question must be yes. Numerous reports and studies — generated both inside and outside government — make clear that Congress could reasonably have found the empirical connection that its law, implicitly or explicitly, asserts. (See Appendix, infra, at 631, for a sample of the documentation, as well as for complete citations to the sources referenced below.)

For one thing, reports, hearings, and other readily available literature make clear that the problem of guns in and around schools is widespread and extremely serious. These materials report, for example, that four percent of American high school students (and six percent of inner-city high school students) carry a gun to school at least occasionally, Centers for Disease Control 2342; Sheley, McGee, & Wright 679; that 12 percent of urban high school students have had guns fired at them, ibid.; that 20 percent of those students have been threatened with guns, ibid.; and that, in any 6-month period, several hundred thousand schoolchildren are victims of violent crimes in or near their schools, U. S. Dept. of Justice 1 (1989); House Select Committee Hearing 15 (1989). And, they report that this widespread violence in schools throughout the Nation significantly interferes with the quality of education in those schools. See, e. g., House Judiciary Committee Hearing 44 (1990) (linking school violence to dropout rate); U. S. Dept. of Health 118-119 (1978) (school-violence victims suffer academically); compare U. S. Dept, of Justice 1 (1991) (gun violence worst in. inner-city schools), with National Center 47 (dropout rates highest in inner cities). Based on reports such as these, Congress obviously could have thought that guns and learning are mutually exclusive. Senate Labor and Human Resources Committee Hearing 39 (1993); U. S. Dept. of Health 118, 123-124 (1978). Congress could therefore have found a substantial educational problem — teachers unable to teach, students unable to learn — and concluded that guns near schools contribute substantially to the size and scope of that problem.

*620Having found that guns in schools significantly undermine the quality of education in our Nation’s classrooms, Congress could also have found, given the effect of education upon interstate and foreign commerce, that gun-related violence in and around schools is a commercial, as well as a human, problem. Education, although far more than a matter of economics, has long been inextricably intertwined with the Nation’s economy. When this Nation began, most workers received their education in the workplace, typically (like Benjamin Franklin) as apprentices. See generally Seybolt; Rorabaugh; U. S. Dept. of Labor (1950). As late as the 1920’s, many workers still received general education directly from their employers — from large corporations, such as General Electric, Ford, and Goodyear, which created schools within their firms to help both the worker and the firm. See Bolino 15-25. (Throughout most of the 19th century fewer than one percent of all Americans received secondary education through attending a high school. See id., at 11.) As public school enrollment grew in the early 20th century, see Becker 218 (1993), the need for industry to teach basic educational skills diminished. But, the direct economic link between basic education and industrial productivity remained. Scholars estimate that nearly a quarter of America’s economic growth in the early years of this century is traceable directly to increased schooling, see Denison 243; that investment in “human capital” (through spending on education) exceeded investment in “physical capital” by a ratio of almost two to one, see Schultz 26 (1961); and that the economic returns to this investment in education exceeded the returns to conventional capital investment, see, e. g., Davis & Morrall 48-49.

In recent years the link between secondary education and business has strengthened, becoming both more direct and more important. Scholars on the subject report that technological changes and innovations in management techniques have altered the nature of the workplace so that more jobs now demand greater educational skills. See, e. g., MIT 32 *621(only about one-third of handtool company’s 1,000 workers were qualified to work with a new process that requires high-school-level reading and mathematical skills); Cyert & Mowery 68 (gap between wages of high school dropouts and better trained workers increasing); U. S. Dept. of Labor 41 (1981) (job openings for dropouts declining over time). There is evidence that “service, manufacturing or construction jobs are being displaced by technology that requires a better-educated worker or, more likely, are being exported overseas,” Gordon, Ponticell, & Morgan 26; that “workers with truly few skills by the year 2000 will find that only one job out of ten will remain,” ibid,.; and that

“[o]ver the long haul the best way to encourage the growth of high-wage jobs is to upgrade the skills of the work force. . . . [Bjetter-trained workers become more productive workers, enabling a company to become more competitive and expand.” Henkoff 60.

Increasing global competition also has made primary and secondary education economically more important. The portion of the American economy attributable to international trade nearly tripled between 1950 and 1980, and more than 70 percent of American-made goods now compete with imports. Marshall 205; Marshall & Tucker 33. Yet, lagging worker productivity has contributed to negative trade balances and to real hourly compensation that has fallen below wages in 10 other industrialized nations. See National Center 57; Handbook of Labor Statistics 561, 576 (1989); Neef & Kask 28, 31. At least some significant part of this serious productivity problem is attributable to students who emerge from classrooms without the reading or mathematical skills necessary to compete with their European or Asian counterparts, see, e. g., MIT 28, and, presumably, to high school dropout rates of 20 to 25 percent (up to 50 percent in inner cities), see, e. g., National Center 47; Chubb & Hanushek 215. Indeed, Congress has said, when writing other statutes, that *622“functionally or technologically illiterate” Americans in the work force “erod[e]” our economic “standing in the international marketplace,” Pub. L. 100-418, § 6002(a)(3), 102 Stat. 1469, and that “[o]ur Nation is ... paying the price of scientific and technological illiteracy, with our productivity declining, our industrial base ailing, and our global competitiveness dwindling,” H. R. Rep. No. 98-6, pt. 1, p. 19 (1983).

Finally, there is evidence that, today more than ever, many firms base their location decisions upon the presence, or absence, of a work force with a basic education. See Mac-Cormack, Newman, & Rosenfield 73; Coffee 296. Scholars on the subject report, for example, that today, “[h]igh speed communication and transportation make it possible to produce most products and services anywhere in the world,” National Center 38; that “[mjodern machinery and production methods can therefore be combined with low wage workers to drive costs down,” ibid.; that managers can perform “‘back office functions anywhere in the world now,’” and say that if they “ ‘can’t get enough skilled workers here’ ” they will “‘move the skilled jobs out of the country,’” id., at 41; with the consequence that “rich countries need better education and retraining, to reduce the supply of unskilled workers and to equip them with the skills they require for tomorrow’s jobs,” Survey of Global Economy 37. In light of this increased importance of education to individual firms, it is no surprise that half of the Nation’s manufacturers have become involved with setting standards and shaping curricula for local schools, Maturi 65-68, that 88 percent think this kind of involvement is important, id., at 68, that more than 20 States have recently passed educational reforms to attract new business, Overman 61-62, and that business magazines have begun to rank cities according to the quality of their schools, see Boyle 24.

The economic links I have just sketched seem fairly obvious. Why then is it not equally obvious, in light of those links, that a widespread, serious, and substantial physical *623threat to teaching and learning also substantially threatens the commerce to which that teaching and learning is inextricably tied? That is to say, guns in the hands of six percent of inner-city high school students and gun-related violence throughout a city’s schools must threaten the trade and commerce that those schools support. The only question, then, is whether the latter threat is (to use the majority’s terminology) “substantial.” The evidence of (1) the extent of the gun-related violence problem, see supra, at 619, (2) the extent of the resulting negative effect on classroom learning, see ibid., and (3) the extent of the consequent negative commercial effects, see supra, at 620-622, when taken together, indicate a threat to trade and commerce that is “substantial.” At the very least, Congress could rationally have concluded that the links are “substantial.”

Specifically, Congress could have found that gun-related violence near the classroom poses a serious economic threat (1) to consequently inadequately educated workers who must endure low paying jobs, see, e. g., National Center 29, and (2) to communities and businesses that might (in today’s “information society”) otherwise gain, from a well-educated work force, an important commercial advantage, see, e. g., Becker 10 (1992), of a kind that location near a railhead or harbor provided in the past. Congress might also have found these threats to be no different in kind from other threats that this Court has found within the commerce power, such as the threat that loan sharking poses to the “funds” of “numerous localities,” Perez v. United States, 402 U. S., at 157, and that unfair labor practices pose to instrumentalities of commerce, see Consolidated Edison Co. v. NLRB, 305 U. S. 197, 221-222 (1938). As I have pointed out, supra, at 618, Congress has written that “the occurrence of violent crime in school zones” has brought about a “decline in the quality of education” that “has an adverse impact on interstate commerce and the foreign commerce of the United States.” 18 U. S. C. §§ 922(q)(1)(F), (G). The violence-related facts, the educa*624tional facts, and the economic facts, taken together, make this conclusion rational. And, because under our case law, see supra, at 615-617; infra, at 627-628, the sufficiency of the constitutionally necessary Commerce Clause link between a crime of violence and interstate commerce turns simply upon size or degree, those same facts make the statute constitutional.

To hold this statute constitutional is not to “obliterate” the “distinction between what is national and what is local,” ante, at 567 (citation omitted; internal quotation marks omitted); nor is it to hold that the Commerce Clause permits the Federal Government to “regulate any activity that it found was related to the economic productivity of individual citizens,” to regulate “marriage, divorce, and child custody,” or to regulate any and all aspects of education. Ante, at 564. First, this statute is aimed at curbing a particularly acute threat to the educational process — the possession (and use) of life-threatening firearms in, or near, the classroom. The empirical evidence that I have discussed above unmistakably documents the special way in which guns and education are incompatible. See supra, at 619. This Court has previously recognized the singularly disruptive potential on interstate commerce that acts of violence may have. See Perez, supra, at 156-157. Second, the immediacy of the connection between education and the national economic well-being is documented by scholars and accepted by society at large in a way and to a degree that may not hold true for other social institutions. It must surely be the rare case, then, that a statute strikes at conduct that (when considered in the abstract) seems so removed from commerce, but which (practically speaking) has so significant an impact upon commerce.

In sum, a holding that the particular statute before us falls within the commerce power would not expand the scope of that Clause. Rather, it simply would apply pre-existing law to changing economic circumstances. See Heart of Atlanta *625Motel, Inc. v. United States, 379 U. S. 241, 251 (1964). It would recognize that, in today’s economic world, gun-related violence near the classroom makes a significant difference to our economic, as well as our social, well-being. In accordance with well-accepted precedent, such a holding would permit Congress “to act in terms of economic . . . realities,” would interpret the commerce power as “an affirmative power commensurate with the national needs,” and would acknowledge that the “commerce clause does not operate so as to render the nation powerless to defend itself against economic forces that Congress decrees inimical or destructive of the national economy.” North American Co. v. SEC, 327 U. S. 686, 705 (1946) (citing Swift & Co. v. United States, 196 U. S., at 398 (Holmes, J.)).

Ill

The majority’s holding — that §922 falls outside the scope of the Commerce Clause — creates three serious legal problems. First, the majority’s holding runs contrary to modern Supreme Court cases that have upheld congressional actions despite connections to interstate or foreign commerce that are less significant than the effect of school violence. In Perez v. United States, supra, the Court held that the Commerce Clause authorized a federal statute that makes it a crime to engage in loan sharking (“[e]xtortionate credit transactions”) at a local level. The Court said that Congress may judge that such transactions, “though purely mirastate, . . . affect interstate commerce.” 402 U. S., at 154 (emphasis added). Presumably, Congress reasoned that threatening or using force, say with a gun on a street corner, to collect a debt occurs sufficiently often so that the activity (by helping organized crime) affects commerce among the States. But, why then cannot Congress also reason that the threat or use of force — the frequent consequence of possessing a gun — in or near a school occurs sufficiently often so that such activity (by inhibiting basic education) affects *626commerce among the States? The negative impact upon the national economy of an inability to teach basic skills seems no smaller (nor less significant) than that of organized crime.

In Katzenbach v. McClung, 379 U. S. 294 (1964), this Court upheld, as within the commerce power, a statute prohibiting racial discrimination at local restaurants, in part because that discrimination discouraged travel by African Americans and in part because that discrimination affected purchases of food and restaurant supplies from other States. See id., at 300; Heart of Atlanta Motel, supra, at 274 (Black, J., concurring in McClung and in Heart of Atlanta). In Daniel v. Paul, 395 U. S. 298 (1969), this Court found an effect on commerce caused by an amusement park located several miles down a country road in the middle of Alabama — because some customers (the Court assumed), some food, 15 paddle-boats, and a juke box had come from out of state. See id., at 304-305, 308. In both of these cases, the Court understood that the specific instance of discrimination (at a local place of accommodation) was part of a general practice that, considered as a whole, caused not only the most serious human and social harm, but had nationally significant economic dimensions as well. See McClung, supra, at 301; Daniel, supra, at 307, n. 10. It is difficult to distinguish the case before us, for the same critical elements are present. Businesses are less likely to locate in communities where violence plagues the classroom. Families will hesitate to move to neighborhoods where students carry guns instead of books. (Congress expressly found in 1994 that “parents may decline to send their children to school” in certain areas “due to concern about violent crime and gun violence.” 18 U. S. C. § 922(q)(1)(E).) And (to look at the matter in the most narrowly commercial manner), interstate publishers therefore will sell fewer books and other firms will sell fewer school supplies where the threat of violence disrupts learning. Most importantly, like the local racial discrimination at issue in McClung and Daniel, the local instances here, taken *627together and considered as a whole, create a problem that causes serious human and social harm, but also has nationally significant economic dimensions.

In Wickard v. Filburn, 317 U. S. 111 (1942), this Court sustained the application of the Agricultural Adjustment Act of 1938 to wheat that Filburn grew and consumed on his own local farm because, considered in its totality, (1) homegrown wheat may be “induced by rising prices” to “flow into the market and check price increases,” and (2) even if it never actually enters the market, homegrown wheat nonetheless “supplies a need of the man who grew it which would otherwise be reflected by purchases in the open market” and, in that sense, “competes with wheat in commerce.” Id., at 128. To find both of these effects on commerce significant in amount, the Court had to give Congress the benefit of the doubt. Why would the Court, to find a significant (or “substantial”) effect here, have to give Congress any greater leeway? See also United States v. Women’s Sportswear Mfrs. Assn., 336 U. S. 460, 464 (1949) (“If it is interstate commerce that feels the pinch, it does not matter how local the operation which applies the squeeze”); Mandeville Island Farms, Inc. v. American Crystal Sugar Co., 334 U. S., at 236 (“[I]t is enough that the individual activity when multiplied into a general practice . . . contains a threat to the interstate economy that requires preventive regulation”).

The second legal problem the Court creates comes from its apparent belief that it can reconcile its holding with earlier cases by making a critical distinction between “commercial” and noncommercial “transaction[s].” Ante, at 561. That is to say, the Court believes the Constitution would distinguish between two local activities, each of which has an identical effect upon interstate commerce, if one, but not the other, is “commercial” in nature. As a general matter, this approach fails to heed this Court’s earlier warning not to turn “questions of the power of Congress” upon “formula[s]” that would give

*628“controlling force to nomenclature such as ‘production’ and ‘indirect’ and foreclose consideration of the actual effects of the activity in question upon interstate commerce.” Wickard, supra, at 120.

See also United States v. Darby, 312 U. S. 100, 116-117 (1941) (overturning the Court’s distinction between “production” and “commerce” in the child labor case, Hammer v. Dagenhart, 247 U. S. 251, 271-272 (1918)); Swift & Co. v. United States, 196 U. S., at 398 (Holmes, J.) (“[Cjommerce among the States is not a technical legal conception, but a practical one, drawn from the course of business”). Moreover, the majority’s test is not consistent with what the Court saw as the point of the cases that the majority now characterizes. Although the majority today attempts to categorize Perez, McClung, and Wickard as involving intrastate “economic activity,” ante, at 559, the Courts that decided each of those cases did not focus upon the economic nature of the activity regulated. Rather, they focused upon whether that activity affected interstate or foreign commerce. In fact, the Wickard Court expressly held that Filburn’s consumption of homegrown wheat, “though it may not be regarded as commerce,” could nevertheless be regulated — “whatever its nature” — so long as “it exerts a substantial economic effect on interstate commerce.” Wickard, supra, at 125 (emphasis added).

More importantly, if a distinction between commercial and noncommercial activities is to be made, this is not the ease in which to make it. The majority clearly cannot intend such a distinction to focus narrowly on an act of gun possession standing by itself, for such a reading could not be reconciled with either the civil rights cases (McClung and Daniel) or Perez — in each of those cases the specific transaction (the race-based exclusion, the use of force) was not itself “commercial.” And, if the majority instead means to distinguish generally among broad categories of activities, differentiating what is educational from what is commercial, then, as a *629practical matter, the line becomes almost impossible to draw. Schools that teach reading, writing, mathematics, and related basic skills serve both social and commercial purposes, and one cannot easily separate the one from the other. American industry itself has been, and is again, involved in teaching. See supra, at 620, 622. When, and to what extent, does its involvement make education commercial? Does the number of vocational classes that train students directly for jobs make a difference? Does it matter if the school is public or private, nonprofit or profit seeking? Does it matter if a city or State adopts a voucher plan that pays private firms to run a school? Even if one were to ignore these practical questions, why should there be a theoretical distinction between education, when it significantly benefits commerce, and environmental pollution, when it causes economic harm? See Hodel v. Virginia Surface Mining & Reclamation Assn., Inc., 452 U. S. 264 (1981).

Regardless, if there is a principled distinction that could work both here and in future cases, Congress (even in the absence of vocational classes, industry involvement, and private management) could rationally conclude that schools fall on the commercial side of the line. In 1990, the year Congress enacted the statute before us, primary and secondary schools spent $230 billion — that is, nearly a quarter of a trillion dollars — which accounts for a significant portion of our $5.5 trillion gross domestic product for that year. See Statistical Abstract 147, 442 (1993). The business of schooling requires expenditure of these funds on student transportation, food and custodial services, books, and teachers’ salaries. See U. S. Dept. of Education 4, 7 (1993). These expenditures enable schools to provide a valuable service— namely, to equip students with the skills they need to survive in life and, more specifically, in the workplace. Certainly, Congress has often analyzed school expenditure as if it were a commercial investment, closely analyzing whether schools are efficient, whether they justify the significant resources *630they spend, and whether they can be restructured to achieve greater returns. See, e. g., S. Rep. No. 100-222, p. 2 (1987) (federal school assistance is “a prudent investment”); Senate Appropriations Committee Hearing (1994) (private sector management of public schools); cf. Chubb & Moe 185-229 (school choice); Hanushek 85-122 (performance based incentives for educators); Gibbs (decision in Hartford, Conn., to contract out public school system). Why could Congress, for Commerce Clause purposes, not consider schools as roughly analogous to commercial investments from which the Nation derives the benefit of an educated work force?

The third legal problem created by the Court’s holding is that it threatens legal uncertainty in an area of law that, until this case, seemed reasonably well settled. Congress has enacted many statutes (more than 100 sections of the United States Code), including criminal statutes (at least 25 sections), that use the words “affecting commerce” to define their scope, see, e. g., 18 U. S. C. § 844(i) (destruction of buildings used in activity affecting interstate commerce), and other statutes that contain no jurisdictional language at all, see, e. g., 18 U. S. C. § 922(o)(l) (possession of machineguns). Do these, or similar, statutes regulate noncommercial activities? If so, would that alter the meaning of “affecting commerce” in a jurisdictional element? Cf. United States v. Staszcuk, 517 F. 2d 53, 57-58 (CA7 1975) (en banc) (Stevens, J.) (evaluation of Congress’ intent “requires more than a consideration of the consequences of the particular transaction”). More importantly, in the absence of a jurisdictional element, are the courts nevertheless to take Wickard, 317 U. S., at 127-128, (and later similar cases) as inapplicable, and to judge the effect of a single noncommercial activity on interstate commerce without considering similar instances of the forbidden conduct? However these questions are eventually resolved, the legal uncertainty now created will restrict Congress’ ability to enact criminal laws aimed at criminal behavior that, considered problem by problem rather *631than instance by instance, seriously threatens the economic, as well as social, well-being of Americans.

IV

In sum, to find this legislation within the scope of the Commerce Clause would permit “Congress ... to act in terms of economic . . . realities.” North American Co. v. SEC, 327 U. S., at 705 (citing Swift & Co. v. United States, 196 U. S., at 398 (Holmes, J.)). It would interpret the Clause as this Court has traditionally interpreted it, with the exception of one wrong turn subsequently corrected. See Gibbons v. Ogden, 9 Wheat., at 195 (holding that the commerce power extends “to all the external concerns of the nation, and to those internal concerns which affect the States generally”); United States v. Darby, 312 U. S., at 116-117 (“The conclusion is inescapable that Hammer v. Dagenhart [the child labor case] was a departure from the principles which have prevailed in the interpretation of the Commerce Clause both before and since the decision .... It should be and now is overruled”). Upholding this legislation would do no more than simply recognize that Congress had a “rational basis” for finding a significant connection between guns in or near schools and (through their effect on education) the interstate and foreign commerce they threaten. For these reasons, I would reverse the judgment of the Court of Appeals. Respectfully, I dissent.

APPENDIX TO OPINION OF BREYER, J.

Congressional Materials

(in reverse chronological order)

Private Sector Management of Public Schools, Hearing before the Subcommittee on Labor, Héalth and Human Services, and Education and Related Agencies of the Senate Committee on Appropriations, 103d Cong., 2d Sess. (1994) (Senate Appropriations Committee Hearing (1994)). *632Children and Gun Violence, Hearings before the Subcommittee on Juvenile Justice of the Senate Committee on the Judiciary, 103d Cong., 1st Sess. (1993) (Senate Judiciary Committee Hearing (1993)).

Keeping Every Child Safe: Curbing the Epidemic of Violence, Joint Hearing before the Subcommittee on Children, Family, Drugs and Alcoholism of the Senate Committee on Labor and Human Resources and the House Select Committee on Children, Youth, and Families, 103d Cong., 1st Sess. (1993).

Recess from Violence: Making our Schools Safe, Hearing before the Subcommittee on Education, Arts and Humanities of the Senate Committee on Labor and Human Resources, 103d Cong., 1st Sess. (1993) (Senate Labor and Human Resources Committee Hearing (1993)).

Preparing for the Economy of the 21st Century, Hearings before the Subcommittee on Children, Family, Drugs and Alcoholism of the Senate Committee on Labor and Human Resources, 102d Cong., 2d Sess. (1992).

Children Carrying Weapons: Why the Recent Increase, Hearing before the Senate Committee on the Judiciary, 102d Cong., 2d Sess. (1992).

Youth Violence Prevention, Hearing before the Senate Committee on Governmental Affairs, 102d Cong., 2d Sess. (1992).

School Dropout Prevention and Basic Skills Improvement Act of 1990, Pub. L. 101-600, § 2(a)(2), 104 Stat. 3042.

Excellence in Mathematics, Science and Engineering Education Act of 1990, 104 Stat. 2883, 20 U. S. C. § 5301(a)(5) (1988 ed., Supp. V).

Oversight Hearing on Education Reform and American Business and the Implementation of the Hawkins-Stafford Amendments of 1988, Hearing before the Subcommittee on Elementary, Secondary, and Vocational Training of the *633House Committee on Education and Labor, 101st Cong., 2d Sess. (1990).

U. S. Power in a Changing World, Report Prepared for the Subcommittee on International Economic Policy and Trade of the House Committee on Foreign Affairs, 101st Cong., 2d Sess., 43-66 (1990).

Gun Free School Zones Act of 1990, Hearing before the Subcommittee on Crime of the House Committee on the Judiciary, 101st Cong., 2d Sess. (1990) (House Judiciary Committee Hearing (1990)).

Restoring American Productivity: The Role of Education and Human Resources, Hearing before the Senate Committee on Labor and Human Resources, 101st Cong., 1st Sess. (1989).

Children and Guns, Hearing before the House Select Committee on Children, Youth, and Families, 101st Cong., 1st Sess. (1989) (House Select Committee Hearing (1989)).

Education and Training for a Competitive America Act of 1988, Pub. L. 100-418, Title VI, 102 Stat. 1469.

S. Rep. No. 100-222 (1987).

Education and Training for American Competitiveness, Hearings before the House Committee on Education and Labor, 100th Cong., 1st Sess. (1987).

Competitiveness and the Quality of the American Work Force, Hearings before the Subcommittee on Education and Health of the Joint Economic Committee, 100th Cong., 1st Sess., pts. 1 and 2 (1987).

Oversight Hearing on Illiteracy, Joint Hearing before the Subcommittee on Elementary, Secondary, and Vocational Education of the House Committee on Education and Labor and the Subcommittee on Education, Arts and Humanities of the Senate Committee on Labor and Human Resources, 99th Cong., 2d Sess. (1986).

*634Oversight on Illiteracy in the United States, Hearings before the Subcommittee on Elementary, Secondary, and Vocational Education of the House Committee on Education and Labor, 99th Cong., 2d Sess. (1986).

Crime and Violence in the Schools, Hearing before the Subcommittee on Juvenile Justice of the Senate Committee on the Judiciary, 98th Cong., 2d Sess. (1984).

H. R. Rep. No. 98-6, pts. 1 and 2 (1983).

S. Rep. No. 98-151 (1983).

Education for Economic Security Act, Hearings before the Subcommittee on Education, Arts and Humanities of the Senate Committee on Labor and Human Resources, 98th Cong., 1st Sess. (1983).

Pub. L. 93-380, §825, 88 Stat. 602 (1974).

I. Clarke, Art and Industry: Instruction in Drawing Applied to the Industrial and Fine Arts, S. Exec. Doc. No. 209, 46th Cong., 2d Sess., pt. 2 (1891).

Other Federal Government Materials

(in reverse chronological order)

U. S. Dept, of Education, Office of Educational Research and Improvement, First Findings: The Educational Quality of the Workforce Employer Survey (Feb. 1995).

Economic Report of the President 108 (Feb. 1994).

U. S. Dept, of Commerce, Statistical Abstract of the United States (1993) (Statistical Abstract (1993)).

U. S. Dept, of Education, Office of Educational Research and Improvement, Public School Education Financing for School Year 1989-90 (June 1993) (U. S. Dept, of Education (1993)).

Economic Report of the President 101 (Feb. 1992).

U. S. Dept, of Labor, Secretary’s Commission on Achieving Necessary Skills, Skills and Tasks For Jobs: A SCANS- Report for America 2000 (1992).

*635U. S. Dept, of Labor, Employment and Training Administration, Beyond the School Doors: The Literacy Needs of Job Seekers Served by the U. S. Department of Labor (Sept. 1992).

U. S. Dept, of Justice, Bureau of Justice Statistics, School Crime: A National Crime Victimization Survey Report (Sept. 1991) (U. S. Dept, of Justice (1991)).

U. S. Dept, of Commerce, Bureau of Census, 1990 Census of Population: Education in the United States 474 (Jan. 1994).

U. S. Dept, of Justice, Office of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention, Weapons in Schools, OJJDP Bulletin 1 (Oct. 1989) (U. S. Dept, of Justice (1989)).

U. S. Dept, of Labor, Bureau of Labor Statistics, Handbook of Labor Statistics 281, 561, 576 (Aug. 1989) (Handbook of Labor Statistics (1989)).

Bishop, Incentives for Learning: Why American High School Students Compare So Poorly to their Counterparts Overseas, in 1 U. S. Dept, of Labor, Commission on Workforce Quality & Labor Market Efficiency, Investing in People 1 (Sept. 1989).

Rumberger & Levin, Schooling for the Modern Workplace, in 1 U. S. Dept, of Labor, Commission on Workforce Quality & Labor Market Efficiency, Investing in People 85 (Sept. 1989).

U. S. Dept, of Education and U. S. Department of Labor, The Bottom Line: Basic Skills in the Workplace 12 (1988).

U. S. Dept, of Labor, Employment and Training Administration, Estimating Educational Attainment of Future Employment Demand for States (Oct. 1981) (U. S. Dept, of Labor (1981)).

U. S. Dept, of Health, Education, and Welfare, National Institute of Education, Violent Schools — Safe Schools: The Safe School Study Report to Congress (1978) (U. S. Dept, of Health (1978)).

*636U. S. Dept, of Labor, Bureau of Apprenticeship, Apprenticeship Past and Present (1950) (U. S. Dept, of Labor (1950)).

Other Readily Available Materials

(in alphabetical order)

Akin & Garfinkel, School Expenditures and the Economic Returns to Schooling, 12 J. Human Resources 462 (1977).

American Council on Education, Business-Higher Education Forum, America’s Competitive Challenge: A Report to the President of the United States (Apr. 1983).

Applebome, Employers Wary of School System, N. Y. Times, Feb. 20, 1995, p. Al, col. 1.

Are Real Estate Firms Ready to Ride on the Infobahn?: Information Highway of Technology, 36 National Real Estate Investor, Oct. 1994, p. 6.

Aring, What the ‘V’ Word is Costing America’s Economy: Vocational Education, 74 Phi Delta Kappan 396 (1993).

G. Atkinson, The Economics of Education (1983).

Becker, The Adam Smith Address: Education, Labor Force Quality, and the Economy, Business Economics, Jan. 1992, p. 7 (Becker (1992)).

G. Becker, Human Capital (3d ed. 1993) (Becker (1993)).

I. Berg, Education and Jobs: The Great Training Robbery (1970).

Berryman, The Economy, Literacy Requirements, and At-Risk Adults, in Literacy and the Marketplace: Improving the Literacy of Low-Income Single Mothers 22 (June 1989).

Bishop, Is the Test Score Decline Responsible for the Productivity Growth Decline?, 79 Am. Econ. Rev. 178 (Mar. 1989).

Bishop, High School Performance and Employee Recruitment, 13 J. Labor Research 41 (1992).

Blackburn, What Can Explain the Increase in Earnings Inequality Among Males?, 29 Industrial Relations 441 (1990). *637Boissiere, Knight, & Sabot, Earnings, Schooling, Ability and Cognitive Skills, 75 Am. Econ. Rev. 1016 (1985).

A. Bolino, A Century of Human Capital by Education and Training (1989) (Bolino).

Boyle, Expansion Management’s Education Quotient, Economic Development Rev., Winter 1992, pp. 23-25 (Boyle).

Brandel, Wake Up Get Smart, New England Business, May 1991, p. 46.

Callahan & Rivara, Urban High School Youth and Handguns: A School-Based Survey, 267 JAMA 3038 (1992).

Card & Krueger, Does School Quality Matter? Returns to Education and the Characteristics of Public Schools in the United States, 100 J. Pol. Econ. 1 (1992).

A. Carnevale, America and the New Economy: How New Competitive Standards are Radically Changing American Workplaces (1991).

A. Carnevale and J. Porro, Quality Education: School Reform for the New American Economy 31-32 (1994).

Center to Prevent Handgun Violence, Caught in the Crossfire: A Report on Gun Violence in our Nation’s Schools (Sept. 1990).

Centers For Disease Control, Leads from the Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report, 266 JAMA 2342 (1991) (Centers for Disease Control).

Chubb & Hanushek, Reforming Educational Reform, in Setting National Priorities 213 (H. Aaron ed. 1990) (Chubb & Hanushek).

J. Chubb & T. Moe, Politics, Markets, and America’s Schools (1990) (Chubb & Moe).

Coffee, Survey: Worker Skills, Training More Important in Site Selection, Site Selection, Apr. 1993, p. 296 (Coffee).

E. Cohn, The Economics of Education (rev. ed. 1979).

*638Council on Competitiveness, Competitiveness Index 5 (July 1994).

Council on Competitiveness, Elevating the Skills of the American Workforce (May 1993).

Council on Competitiveness, Governing America: A Competitiveness Policy Agenda for The New Administration 33-39 (1989).

R. Cyert & D. Mowery, Technology and Employment: Innovation and Growth in the U. S. Economy (1987) (Cyert & Mowery).

J. Cynoweth, Enhancing Literacy for Jobs and Productivity: Council of State Policy and Planning Agencies Report (1994).

J. Davis & J. Morrall, Evaluating Educational Investment (1974) (Davis & Morrall).

Denison, Education and Growth, in Economics and Education 237 (D. Rogers & H. Ruchlin eds. 1971) (Denison).

M. Dertouzos, R. Lester, & R. Solow, MIT Commission on Industrial Productivity, Made In America: Regaining the Productive Edge (1989).

A. DeYoung, Economics and American Education: A Historical and Critical Overview of the Impact of Economic Theories on Schooling in the United States (1989).

Downs, America’s Educational Failures Will Hurt Real Estate, National Real Estate Investor, Aug. 1988, p. 34.

Doyle, The Role of Private Sector Management in Public Education, 76 Phi Delta Kappan 128 (1994).

Education and Economic Development (C. Anderson & M. Bowman eds. 1965).

Education Commission of the States, Task Force on Education for Economic Growth, Action for Excellence (June 1983).

Educational Testing Service, Developing the Skills and Knowledge of the Workforce (1993).

*639Finding What Really Works in Education, Chief Executive, May 1994, p. 48.

Ganderton & Griffin, Impact of Child Quality on Earnings: The Productivity-of-Schooling Hypothesis, 11 Contemporary Policy Issues 39 (July 1993).

Garver, “Success Story!”: The Evolution of Economic Development in Broward County, Florida, 11 Economic Development Review 85 (Summer 1993).

Gibbs, Schools for Profit, Time, Oct. 17, 1994, p. 48 (Gibbs).

Gintis, Education, Technology, and the Characteristics of Worker Productivity, 61 Am. Econ. Rev. 266 (1971).

Glazer, A Human Capital Policy for the Cities, Public Interest, Summer 1993, p. 27.

Glazer, Violence in Schools: Can Anything be Done to Curb the Growing Violence?, The CQ Researcher, Sept. 11, 1992, pp. 785-808.

E. Gordon, J. Ponticell, & R. Morgan, Closing the Literacy Gap in American Business 23 (1991) (Gordon, Ponticell, & Morgan).

E. Hanushek, Making Schools Work: Improving Performance and Controlling Costs (1994) (Hanushek).

Henkoff, Where Will the Jobs Come From?, Fortune, Oct. 19, 1992, p. 58 (Henkoff).

Herbert, Reading, Writing, Reloading, N. Y. Times, Dec. 14, 1994, p. A23, col. 1.

Industry’s New Schoolhouse, N. Y. Times, Jan. 9, 1994, section 4A, p. 22, col. 3, Education Life Supp.

Introducing the EQ (Education Quotient), Expansion Management, Sept./Oct. 1991, pp. 18-24.

Investment in Education: The Equity-Efficiency Quandary (T. Schultz ed. 1972).

*640Itzkoff, America’s Unspoken Economic Dilemma: Falling Intelligence Levels, 18 J. Social, Pol. & Econ. Studies 311 (1993).

Johnson, The Private Sector Should Help U. S. Schools, Financier, Sept. 1991, p. 34.

Johnson & Stafford, Social Returns to Quantity and Quality of Schooling, 8 J. Human Resources 139 (1973).

W. Johnston & A. Packer, Workforce 2000: Work and Workers for the Twenty-first Century (1987).

Jorgenson, The Contribution of Education to U. S. Economic Growth, 1948-73, in Education and Economic Productivity 95 (E. Dean ed. 1984).

Kirkland, Are Service Jobs Good Jobs?, Fortune, June 10, 1985, p. 38.

J. Kozol, Illiterate America 13 (1985).

J. Kozol, Where Stands the Republic? Illiteracy: A Warning and a Challenge to the Nation’s Press 9 (1986).

M. Levin & A. Shank, Educational Investment in an Urban Society: Costs, Benefits, and Public Policy (1970).

Link & Ratledge, Social Returns to Quantity and Quality of Education: A Further Statement, 10 J. Human Resources 78 (1975).

Lyne, The Skills Gap: U. S. Work-Force Woes Complicate Business-Location Equation, Site Selection, Aug. 1992, p. 642.

MacCormack, Newman, & Rosenfield, The New Dynamics of Global Manufacturing Site Location, 35 Sloan Management Review, No. 4, p. 69 (1994) (MacCormack, Newman, & Rosenfield).

F. Machlup, Education and Economic Growth (1970).

Markey, The Labor Market Problems of Today’s High School Dropouts, Monthly Labor Review, June 1988, p. 36.

*641Marshall, The Implications of Internationalization for Labor Market Institutions and Industrial Relations Systems, in Rethinking Employment Policy 205 (D. Bawden & F. Skidmore eds. 1989) (Marshall).

R. Marshall & M. Tucker, Thinking for a Living: Work, Skills, and the Future of the American Economy 33 (1992) (Marshall & Tucker).

Maturi, The Workforce Lure: Education/Training Carries More Weight in Siting Decisions, Industry Week, May 16, 1994, pp. 65-68 (Maturi).

M. Maurice, F. Sellier, & J. Silvestre, The Social Foundations of Industrial Power: A Comparison of France and Germany (1986).

Mikulecky, Job Literacy: The Relationship Between School Preparation and Workplace Actuality, 17 Reading Research Quarterly 400 (1982).

Mikulecky & Ehlinger, The Influence of Metacognitive Aspects of Literacy on Job Performance of Electronics Technicians, 18 J. Reading Behavior 41 (1986).

MIT Commission on Industrial Productivity, Education and Training in the United States: Developing the Human Resources We Need for Technological Advance and Competitiveness, in 2 Working Papers of the MIT Commission on Industrial Productivity (1989) (MIT).

Mitchell, The Impact of International Trade on U. S. Employment, in American Labor in a Changing World Economy 5 (W. Morehouse ed. 1978).

Morgan & Sirageldin, A Note on the Quality Dimension in Education, 76 J. Pol. Econ. 1069 (1968).

National Academy of Education, Economic Dimensions of Education (1979).

National Center on Education and the Economy, America’s Choice: High Skills or Low Wages! (1990) (National Center). *642National Commission on Excellence in Education, A Nation at Risk 8-9 (Apr. 1983).

National Commission on Jobs and Small Business, Making America Work Again: Jobs, Small Business, and the International Challenge (1987).

National Governor’s Association, Making America Work 35-36, 77-96 (1987).

National Institute of Justice, Research in Brief, J. Toby, Violence in Schools 3 (Dec. 1983).

National School Safety Center, Weapons in Schools (May 1989).

Neef & Kask, Manufacturing Productivity and Labor Costs in 14 Economies, Monthly Labor Review, Dec. 1991, p. 24 (Neef & Kask).

Neff, Recharging U. S. Competitiveness: Perhaps We Should Use Germany’s Education System as a Benchmark, Industry Week, Jan. 20,1992, p. 21.

O’Connor, Education’s Significance as Quality-of-Life Location Factor Parallels Nationwide Reformist Movement, Site Selection Handbook, Aug. 1988, p. 846.

M. O’Donoghue, Economic Dimensions in Education (1971).

Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development, Education and the Economy in a Changing Society (1989).

Overman, Skilled States Lure New Business, HRMagazine, Jan. 1994, pp. 61-62 (Overman).

Packer, Taking Action on the SCANS Report, Educational Leadership, Mar. 1992, p. 27.

R. Perlman, The Economics of Education: Conceptual Problems and Policy Issues (1973).

R. Price, Fighting Violence with All the Mushy Stuff,’ USA Today, May 9,1994, p. 9A.

D. Prothrow-Stith & M. Weissman, Deadly Consequences (1991).

*643G. Psacharopoulos, Returns to Education: An International Comparison (1973).

M. Rasell & E. Appelbaum, Investment in Learning: An Assessment of the Economic Return (1992).

Ray & Mickelson, Corporate Leaders, Resistant Youth, and School Reform in Sunbelt City: The Political Economy of Education, 37 Social Problems 178 (1990).

R. Reich, The Work of Nations (1991).

D. Riddle, Service-Led Growth: The Role of the Service Sector in World Development (1986).

W. Rorabaugh, The Craft Apprentice: From Franklin to the Machine Age in America (1986) (Rorabaugh).

Rumberger & Daymont, The Economic Value of Academic and Vocational Training Acquired in High School, in Youth and the Labor Market 157 (M. Borus ed. 1984).

Ruttenberg, The Limited Promise of Public Health Methodologies to Prevent Youth Violence, 103 Yale L. J. 1885 (1994).

Ryscavage & Henle, Earnings Inequality Accelerates in the 1980’s, Monthly Labor Review, Dec. 1990, p. 3.

T. Schultz, Education and Productivity (report prepared for the National Commission on Productivity, 1971).

Schultz, Investment in Human Capital, American Economic Review, Mar. 1961, p. 3, reprinted in 1 Economics of Education 13 (M. Blaug ed. 1968) (Schultz (1961)).

S. Seninger, Labor Force Policies for Regional Economic Development: The Role of Employment and Training Programs (1989).

R. Seybolt, Apprenticeship & Apprenticeship Education in Colonial New England & New York (1917) (Seybolt).

Sheley, McGee, & Wright, Gun-Related Violence in and Around Inner-City Schools, 146 Am. J. Diseases in Children 677 (1992) (Sheley, McGee, & Wright).

*644Stone & Boundy, School Violence: The Need for a Meaningful Response, 28 Clearinghouse Review 453 (1994).

Strane, Locating in Rural America Could be a Competitive Advantage, 12 Telemarketing, Oct. 1993, p. 92.

R. Sturm, How Do Education and Training Affect a Country’s Economic Performance? A Literature Survey (1993).

A Survey of The Global Economy, The Economist, Oct. 1, 1994, p. 37 (Survey of Global Economy).

Swaim & Podgursky, Do More-Educated Workers Fare Better Following Job Displacement?, Monthly Labor Review, Aug. 1989, p. 43.

Tremblay, The Impact of School and College Expenditures on the Wages of Southern and Non-Southern Workers, 7 J. Labor Research 201 (1986).

J. Vaizey, The Economics of Education (1973).

J. Vaizey, The Political Economy of Human Capital (1973).

Vallens, Global Economy May Dictate More Spending for Training, Modern Plastics, Nov. 1993, p. 19.

Wachtel, The Effect on Earnings of School and College Investment Expenditures, 58 Review of Economics & Statistics 326, 330 (1976).

Weiner & Siler, Trained to Order, Forbes, June 26, 1989, pp. 73-78.

L. Wheat, Urban Growth in the Nonmetropolitan South 65 (1976).

Wirth, Education and Work: The Choices We Face, Phi Delta Kappan, Jan. 1993, p. 361.

A. Wirth, Education and Work for the Year 2000 (1992).

L. Wise, Labor Market Policies and Employment Patterns in the United States 50 (1989).

1.1.4 Hirabayashi v. United States 1.1.4 Hirabayashi v. United States

HIRABAYASHI v. UNITED STATES.

No. 870.

Argued May 10, 11, 1943.

Decided June 21, 1943.

*82 Messrs. Frank L. Walters and Harold Evans, with whom Messrs. Osmond K. Fraenkel, Arthur G. Barnett, Edwin M. Borchard, Brien McMahon, and William Draper Lewis were on the brief (Mr. Alfred J. Schweppe entered an appearance), for Hirabayashi.

Solicitor General Fahy, with whom Messrs. Edward J. Ennis, Arnold Baum, John L. Burling, and Leo Gitlin were on the brief, for the United States.

Briefs of amici curiae were filed by Messrs. Arthur Garfield Hays, Osmond K. Fraenkel, and A. L. Wirin on behalf *83of the American Civil Liberties Union; by Mr. A. L. Wirin on behalf of the Japanese American Citizens League; and by Mr. Jackson H. Ralston on behalf of the Northern California Branch of the American Civil Liberties Union, — in support of Hirabayashi; and by Messrs. Robert W. Kenny, Attorney General of California, I. H. Van Winkle, Attorney General of Oregon, Smith Troy, Attorney General of the State of Washington, and Fred E. Lewis, Chief Assistant and Acting Attorney General of the State of Washington, on behalf of those States,— urging affirmance.

Me. Chief Justice Stone

delivered the opinion of the Court.

Appellant, an American citizen of Japanese ancestry, was convicted in the district court of violating the Act of Congress of March 21, 1942, 56 Stat. 173, which makes it a misdemeanor knowingly to disregard restrictions made applicable by a military commander to persons in a military area prescribed by him as such, all as authorized by an Executive Order of the President.

The questions for our decision are whether the particular restriction violated, namely that all persons of Japanese ancestry residing in such an area be within their place of residence daily between the hours of 8:00 p. m. and 6:00 a. m., was adopted by the military commander in the exercise of an unconstitutional delegation by Congress of its legislative power, and whether the restriction unconstitutionally discriminated between citizens of Japanese ancestry and those of other ancestries in violation of the Fifth Amendment.

The indictment is in two counts. The second charges that appellant, being a person of Japanese ancestry, had on a specified date, contrary to a restriction promulgated by the military commander of the Western Defense Command, Fourth Army, failed to remain in his place of resi*84dence in the designated military, area- between the hours of .8:00 o’clock p. m. and 6:00 a. m. The .first count charges that appellant, on May 11 and 12,1942, had, com trary to a Civilian Exclusion Order issued by the military commander, failed to report to the Civil Control Station within the designated area, it appearing that appellant’s required presence there was a preliminary step to -the- exclusion-from that area of persons of Japanese ancestry.

By demurrer- and. plea in abatement, which the-court overruled (46 F: Supp." 657)-, appellant- asserted that the indictment should be dismissed because-he was .an-American citizen who had never been a subject of and had never borne allegiance'to the Empire'óf japan, and'also because the Act of March 21, 1942, was an unconstitutional delegation of Congressional power. On the trial-.to.a-jury it appeared that appellant was born in Seattle in 1918,.of Japanese parents who had come from Japan to the United States, and who had never afterward, returned to Japan; that he was educated in the Washington-public, schools and at the time of his arrest.was a senior in the University of Washington; that he had never been -in. Japan or had .any association with Japanese residing there. • .

The-evidence showed, that appellant had failed to report to the Civil Control Station on May IT or May 12, -1942, as directed, to register-for evacuation from the military ■area. He -admitted- failure to dp so, and stated it had at all times been his belief that he would be waiving-his rights as an-American citizen by so doing. The-, evidence also showed that for like, reason .-he was.-away from-his place of residence after 8:00 p. m.- on May 9, 1942. • The jury returned a verdict of guilty on both counts and appellant was sentenced to imprisonment fpr a term of three months on each, the sentences to run concurrently., . . • ■ :■

• On appeal the Court of. Appeals for the Ninth Circuit certified to us questions of law.upon: which it desired in*85structions for the decision of the case. See § 239 of the Judicial Code as amended, 28 U. S. C. § 346. Acting under the authority conferred upon us by that section we ordered that the entire record be certified to this Court so that wé might proceed to a decision of the matter in controversy in the same manner as if it had been brought here by appeal. Since the sentences of three months each imposed by the district court on the two counts were ordered to-run concurrently, it will be unnecessary to consider questions raised with respect to the first count if we find that the conviction on the second count, for violation of the curfew order, must be sustained. Brooks v. United States, 267 U. S. 432, 441; Gorin v. United States, 312 U. S. 19, 33.

The curfew order which appellant violated, and to which the sanction prescribed by the Act of Congress has, been deemed to attach, purported to be issued-pursuant to an Executive Order of the President. In passing upon the authority of the military commander to make and execute the order, it becomes necessary -to consider in some detail the official action which preceded or accompanied the order and from which it derives its purported authority..-

. On December 8, T941, one day after the bombing of Pearl Harbor by a Japanese air force, Congress declared war against Japan..' 55 Stat. 795. On February 19, 1942, the President promulgated Executive Order No. 9066. 7 Federal Register' 1407. ■ The Order recited that “the successful prosecution of the war requires every possible protection against espionage and against sabotage to national-defense material, national-defense premises, and national-defense utilities as defined in Section 4, Act of April 20, 1918, 40 Stat. 533, :a's amended by the Act of November 30, 1940/54 Stat:. 1220, and the Act of August 21,1941, 55 Stat. 655.” By .virtue of the authority Vested *86in him as President and as Commander in Chief of the Army and Navy, the President purported to “authorize and direct the Secretary of War, and the Military Commanders whom he may from time to time designate, whenever he or any designated Commander deems such action necessary or desirable, to prescribe military areas in such places and of such extent as he or the appropriate Military Commander may determine, from which any or all persons may be excluded, and with respect to which, the right of any person to enter, remain in, or leave shall be subject to whatever restrictions the Secretary of War or the appropriate Military Commander may impose in his discretion.”

On February 20, 1942, the Secretary of War designated Lt. General J. L. DeWitt as Military Commander of the Western Defense Command, comprising the Pacific Coast states and some others, to carry out there the duties prescribed by Executive Order No. 9066. On March 2,1942, General DeWitt promulgated Public Proclamation No. 1. 7 Federal Register 2320. The proclamation recited that the entire Pacific Coast “by its geographical location is particularly subject to attack, to attempted invasion by the armed forces of nations with which the United States is now at war, and, in connection therewith, is subject to espionage and acts of sabotage, thereby requiring the adoption of military measures necessary to establish safeguards against such enemy operations.” It stated that “the present situation requires as a matter of military necessity the establishment in the territory embraced by the Western Defense Command of Military Areas and Zones thereof”; it specified and designated as military areas certain areas within the Western Defense Command; and it declared that “such persons or classes of persons as the situation may require” would, by subsequent proclamation, be excluded from certain of these *87areas, but might be permitted to enter or remain in certain others, under regulations and restrictions to be later prescribed. Among the military areas so designated by Public Proclamation No. 1 was Military Area No. 1, which embraced, besides the southern part of Arizona, all the coastal region of the three Pacific Coast states, including the City of Seattle, Washington, where appellant resided. Military Area No. 2, designated by the same proclamation, included those parts of the coastal states and of Arizona not placed within Military Area No. 1.

Public Proclamation No. 2 of March 16, 1942, issued by General DeWitt, made like recitals and designated further military areas and zones. It contained like provisions concerning the exclusion, by subsequent proclamation, of certain persons or classes of persons from these areas, and the future promulgation of regulations and restrictions applicable to persons remaining within them. 7 Federal Register 2405.

An Executive Order of the President, No. 9102, of March 18, 1942, established the War Relocation Authority, in the Office for Emergency Management of the Executive Office of the President; it authorized the Director of War Relocation Authority to formulate and effectuate a program for the removal, relocation, maintenance and supervision of persons designated under Executive Order No. 9066, already referred to; and it conferred on the Director authority to prescribe regulations necessary or desirable to promote the effective execution of the program. 7 Federal Register 2165.

Congress, by the Act of March 21,1942, provided: “That whoever shall enter, remain in, leave, or commit any act in any military area or military zone prescribed, under the authority of an Executive order of the President, by the Secretary of War, or by any military commander designated by the Secretary of War, contrary to the restrictions applicable to any such area or zone or contrary *88to the order, of the Secretary of War or any such military commander, shall, if.it appears that he knew or should have known of the existence and extent of the restrictions or order and that his act was in violation thereof, be guilty of a misdemeanor and upon conviction shall be.liable”,.to fine or imprisonment, or both.

Three days later, on March 24, 1942, General DeWitt issued Public Proclamation No. 3. 7 Federal Register 2543. After referring to the previous designation of military areas by Public Proclamations Nos. 1 and 2, it recited ■that “. . . the present situation within these Military Areas and Zones requires as a matter of military necessity the establishment of certain regulations pertaining to all enemy aliens and all persons of Japanese ancestry within .said Military Areas and Zones ... It accordingly declared, and established that from and after March 27,. .1942, “all alien Japanese, all alien Germans, all alien Italians, and all persons of Japanese ancestry residing or being within the geographical limits of Military Area No. 1 . .. . shall be within their place of residence between the hours of 8:00 P. M. and 6:00 A. M., which period is hereinafter referred to as the hours of curfew.” It also imposed certain other restrictions on persons of Japanese ancestry, and provided that any person violating the regulations would be subject to the criminal penalties .provided by the Act of,Congress of March 21, 1942. ■

. Beginning on March 24, 1942, the military commander issued a series of Civilian Exclusion Orders pursuant to the provisions of Public Proclamation No. 1. Each such order related to a specified area within the territory of his command. The order applicable to appellant was Civilian Exclusion Order No. 57 of May 10,1942. 7 Federal Register 3725. It directed that from and after 12:00 noon, May. 16, 194:2, all persons of Japanese ancestry, both alien and non-alien, be excluded from a specified portion of Military Aréa No, 1 in Seattle, including appellant’s place of residence, *89and it required a member of each family, and each individual living alone, affected by the order to report on May 11 or May 12 to a designated Civil Control Station in Seattle. Meanwhile the military commander had issued Public Proclamation No. 4 of March 27, 1942, which recited the necessity of providing for the orderly evacuation and resettlement of Japanese within the area, and prohibited all alien Japanese and all persons of Japanese ancestry from leaving the military area until future orders should permit. 7 Federal Register 2601.

Appellant does not deny that'he knowingly failed to obey the curfew order as charged in the second count of the indictment, or that the order was authorized by the terms of Executive Order No. 9066, or that the challénged Act of Congress purports to punish with criminal penalties disobedience of such an order. His contentions are only that' Congress unconstitutionally delegated its legislative power to the military commander by authorizing him to imposé the challénged regulation, .and that, even if the regulation were in other respects lawfully authorized, the Fifth Amendment prohibits the discrimination made between citizens of Japanese descent and those of other ancestry.

It will be evident from the legislative history that the-Act of March 21, 1942, contemplated and authorized the curfew order which we have before us. The bill which became the Act of March 21, 1942, was introduced in the Senate oh March 9th and in the House on March 10th at the request of the Secretary of War who, in letters to the Chairman of the Senate Committee on Military Affairs and to the Speaker of the House, stated explicitly that its purpose was to provide means for the enforcement of orders issued under Executive Order No. 9066. -This appears in the committee reports on the bill, which set out in full the Executive Order and the Secretary’s letter. 88 Cong. Rec. 2722, 2725; H. R. Rep.- No. 1906, 77th Cong., *902d Sess.; S. Rep. No. 1171,77th Cong., 2d Sess. And each of the committee reports expressly mentions curfew orders as one of the types of restrictions which it was deemed desirable to enforce by criminal sanctions.

When the bill was under consideration, General DeWitt had published his Proclamation No. 1 of March 2, 1942, establishing Military Areas Nos. 1 and 2, and that Proclamation was before Congress. S. Rep. No. 1171, 77th Cong., 2d Sess., p. 2; see also 88 Cong. Rec. 2724. A letter of the Secretary to the Chairman of the House Military Affairs Committee, of March 14,1942, informed Congress that “General DeWitt is strongly of the opinion that the bill, when enacted, should be broad enough to enable the Secretary of War or the appropriate military commander to enforce curfews and other restrictions within military areas and zones”; and that General DeWitt had “indicated that he was prepared to enforce certain restrictions at once for the purpose of protecting certain vital national defense interests but did not desire to proceed until enforcement machinery had been set up.” H. R. Rep. No. 1906, 77th Cong., 2d Sess., p. 3. See also letter of the Acting Secretary of War to the Chairman of the Senate Military Affairs Committee, March 13, 1942, 88 Cong. Rec. 2725.

The Chairman of the Senate Military Affairs Committee explained on the floor of the Senate that the purpose of the proposed legislation was to provide means of enforcement of curfew orders and other military orders made pursuant to Executive Order No. 9066. He read General DeWitt’s Public Proclamation No. 1, and statements from newspaper reports that “evacuation of the first Japanese aliens and American-born Japanese” was about to begin. He also stated to the Senate that “reasons for suspected widespread fifth-column activity among Japanese” were to be found in the system of dual citizenship which Japan deemed applicable to American-*91born Japanese, and in the propaganda disseminated by Japanese consuls, Buddhist priests and other leaders, among American-born children of Japanese. Such was stated to be the explanation of the contemplated evacuation from the Pacific Coast area of persons of Japanese ancestry, citizens as well as aliens. 88 Cong. Rec. 2722-26; see also pp. 2729-30. Congress also had before it the Preliminary Report of a House Committee investigating national defense migration, of March 19, 1942, which approved the provisions of Executive Order No. 9066, and which recommended the evacuation, from military areas established under the Order, of all persons of Japanese ancestry, including citizens. H. R. Rep. No. 1911, 77th Cong., 2d Sess. The proposed legislation provided criminal sanctions for violation of orders, in terms broad enough to include the curfew order now before us, and the legislative history demonstrates that Congress was advised that curfew orders were among those intended, and was advised also that regulation of citizen and alien Japanese‘alike was contemplated.

The conclusion is inescapable that Congress, by the Act of March 21, 1942, ratified and confirmed Executive Order No. 9066. Prize Cases, 2 Black 635, 671; Hamilton v. Dillin, 21 Wall. 73, 96-97; United States v. Heinszen & Co., 206 U. S. 370, 382-84; Tiaco v. Forbes, 228 U. S. 549, 556; Isbrandtsen-Moller Co. v. United States, 300 U. S. 139, 146-48; Swayne & Hoyt, Ltd. v. United States, 300 U. S. 297, 300-03; Mason Co. v. Tax Comm’n, 302 U. S. 186, 208. And so far as it lawfully could, Congress authorized and implemented such curfew orders as the commanding officer should promulgate pursuant to the Executive Order of the President. The question then is not one of Congressional power to delegate to the President the promulgation of the Executive Order, but whether, acting in cooperation, Congress and the Executive have constitutional authority to impose the cur*92few restriction,.here complained of. We must consider also whether, acting together, Congress and the Executive could leave it to the designated military commander to appraise the relevant conditions and on-the basis of that appraisal to say whether, under .the circumstances, the time and place were appropriate'for the-promulgation of the curfew order and whether the order itself was an ap'r propriate means of carrying out the Executive Order for the “protection against espionage and against sabotage” to national defense materials, premises and utilities. For reasons presently to be stated, we conclude that.it was within the constitutional power of Congress and-the executive arm of the Government to prescribe this curfew order for the period under consideration and that its promulgation by the military commander involved no unlawful delegation of .legislative power.

Executive Order No. 9066, promulgated in time of war for the declared purpose of prosecuting the war by protecting national; defense resources from sabotage and espionage, and the Act of March 21,1942, ratifying and confirming the Executive Order, were each an exercise of the power to wage war conferred on the Congress and on the President, as Commander in Chief of the armed forces, by Articles I and II of-the Constitution. See Ex -parte Quirin, 317 U. S. 1> 25-26. We have no occasion to. consider whether the President, acting alone, could lawfully have made the curfew order in question, or have authorized others to make it. For the President’s action has the support of the Act of Congress, and we are immediately concerned with the question whether it.is within- the constitutional power of the national government, through the joint action of Congress and the Executive, to impose this restriction as an emergency war measure. .The ex*' ercise -of that power here involves no question of martial law or trial by military tribunal. Cf. Ex parte Milligan, 4 Wall. 2:; Ex parte Quirin,-. supra. Appellant-. has. been *93tried and convicted in the civil courts and has been subjected to penalties prescribed by Congress for the acts committed.

The war power of the national government is “the power to wage war successfully.” See Charles Evans Hughes, War Powers Under the Constitution, 42 A. B. A. Rep. 232, 238. It extends to every matter and adtivity so related to war as substantially to affect its conduct and progress.' The power is not restricted to the winning of victories'in the field and the repulse of enemy fofcés. It embraces every phase of the national defense, including the protection of war materials and the members of thé armed forces from injury and from the dangers which attend the rise, prosecution and progress of war. Prize Cases, supra; Miller v. United States, 11 Wall. 268, 303-14; Stewart v. Kahn, 11 Wall. 493, 506-07; Selective Draft Law Cases, 245 U. S. 366; McKinley v. United States, 249 U. S. 397; United States v. Macintosh, 283 U. S. 605, 622-23. Since the Constitution commits to the Executive and to Congress the exercise of' the war power in all the vicissitudes and conditions of warfare, it has necessarily given them wide scope for the exercise of judgment and discretion in determining the nature and extent of the threatened injury or danger and in the selection of the means for resisting it. Ex parte Quirin, supra, 28-29; cf. Prize Cases, supra, 670; Martin v. Mott, 12 Wheat. 19, 29. Where, as they did here, the conditions” call for the exercise of judgment and discretion and for the choice of means by those branches of the Government' on which the Constitution has ’ placed the responsibility 6f war-making, it is not for any court to sit in review of the wisdom of their action or substitute its judgment for theirs.

The actions taken must be appraised in the light of the conditions- with which the President and Congress were confronted "in the early months of 1942, many of which, *94since disclosed, were then peculiarly within the knowledge of the military authorities. On December 7, 1941, the Japanese air forces had attacked the United States Naval Base at Pearl Harbor without warning, at the very hour when Japanese diplomatic representatives were conducting negotiations with our State Department ostensibly for the peaceful settlement of differences between the two countries. Simultaneously or nearly so, the Japanese attacked Malaysia, Hong Kong, the Philippines, and Wake and Midway Islands. On the following day their army invaded Thailand. Shortly afterwards they sank two British battleships. On December 13th, Guam was taken. On December 24th and 25th they captured Wake Island and occupied Hong Kong. On January 2, 1942, Manila fell, and on February 10th Singapore, Britain’s great naval base in the East, was taken. On February 27th the battle of the Java Sea resulted in a disastrous naval defeat to the United Nations. By the 9th of March Japanese forces had established control over the Netherlands East Indies; Rangoon and Burma were occupied; Bataan and Corregidor were under attack.

Although the results of the attack on Pearl Harbor were not fully disclosed until much later, it was known that the damage was extensive, and that the Japanese by their successes had gained a naval superiority over our forces in the Pacific which might enable them to seize Pearl Harbor, our largest naval base and the last stronghold of defense lying between Japan and the west coast. That reasonably prudent men charged with the responsibility of our national defense had ample ground for concluding that they must face the danger of invasion, take measures against it, and in making the choice, of measures consider our internal situation, cannot be doubted.

The challenged orders were defense measures for the avowed purpose of safeguarding the military area in question, at a time of threatened air raids and invasion *95by the Japanese forces, from the danger of sabotage and espionage. As the curfew was made applicable to citizens residing in the area only if they were of Japanese ancestry, our inquiry must be whether in the light of all the facts and circumstances there was any substantial basis for the conclusion, in which Congress and the military commander united, that the curfew as applied was a protective measure necessary to meet the threat of sabotage and espionage which would substantially affect the war effort and which might reasonably be expected to aid a threatened enemy invasion. The alternative which appellant insists must be accepted is for the military authorities to impose the curfew on all citizens within the military area, or on none. In a case of threatened danger requiring prompt action, it is a choice between inflicting obviously needless hardship on the many, or sitting passive and unresisting in the presence of the threat. We think that constitutional government, in time of war, is not so powerless and does not compel so hard a choice if those charged with the responsibility of our national defense have reasonable ground for believing that the threat is real.

When the orders were promulgated there was a vast concentration, within Military Areas Nos. 1 and 2, of installations and facilities for the production of military equipment, especially ships and airplanes. Important Army and Navy bases were located in California and Washington. Approximately one-fourth of the total value of the major aircraft contracts then let by Government procurement officers were to be performed in the State of California. California ranked second, and Washington fifth, of all the states of the Union with respect to the value of shipbuilding contracts to be performed.1

*96In the critical days of March 1942, the danger to our war production by sabotage and espionage in this area seems obvious. The German invasion of the Western European countries had given ample warning to the world of the menace of the “fifth column.” Espionage by persons in sympathy with the Japanese Government had been found to have been particularly effective in the surprise attack on Pearl Harbor.2 At a time of threatened Japanese attack upon this country, the nature of our inhabitants’ attachments to the Japanese enemy was consequently a matter of grave concern. Of the 126,000 persons of Japanese descent in the United States, citizens and non-citizens, approximately 112,000 resided in California, Oregon and Washington at the time of the adoption of the military regulations. Of these approximately two-thirds are citizens because born in the United States. Not only did the great majority of such persons reside within the Pacific Coast states but they were concentrated in or near three of the large cities, Seattle, Portland and Los Angeles, all in Military Area No. I.3

There is support for the view that social, economic and political conditions which have prevailed since the close of the last century, when the Japanese began to come to this country in substantial numbers, have intensified their solidarity and have in large measure prevented.„their_ assimilation as an integral part of the white... population.4 In addition, large numbers of children of Japanese par*97entage are sent to Japanese language schools outside the regular hours of public schools in the locality. Some of these schools are generally believed to be sources of Japanese nationalistic propaganda, cultivating allegiance to Japan.5 Considerable numbers, estimated to be approximately 10,000, of American-born children of Japanese parentage have been sent to Japan for all or a part of their education.6

Congress and the Executive, including the military commander, could have attributed special significance, in its bearing on the loyalties of persons of Japanese descent, to the maintenance by Japan of its system of dual citizenship. Children bom in the United States of Japanese alien parents, and especially those children born before December 1, 1924, are under many circumstances deemed, by Japanese law, to be citizens of Japan.7 No *98official census of those whom Japan regards as having thus retained Japanese citizenship is available, but there is ground for the belief that the number is large.8

The large number of resident alien Japanese, approximately one-third of all Japanese inhabitants of the country, are of mature years and occupy positions of influence in Japanese communities. The association of influential Japanese residents with Japanese Consulates has been /deemed a ready means for the dissemination of propa-I ganda and for the maintenance of the influence of the ' Japanese Government with the Japanese population in this country.9

As a result of all these conditions affecting the life of the Japanese, both aliens and citizens, in the Pacific Coast area, there has been relatively little social intercourse between them and the white population. The restrictions, both practical and legal, affecting the privileges and opportunities afforded to persons of Japanese extraction residing in the United States, have been sources of irritation and may well have tended to increase their isolation, and in many instances their attachments to Japan and its institutions.

Viewing these data in all their aspects, Congress and the Executive could reasonably have concluded that these conditions have encouraged the continued attachment of members of this group to Japan and Japanese institutions. *99These are only some of the many considerations which those charged with the responsibility for the national defense could take into account in determining the nature and extent of the danger of espionage and sabotage, in the event of invasion or air raid attack. The extent of that danger could be definitely known only after the event and after it was too late to meet it. Whatever views we may entertain regarding the loyalty to this country of the citizens of Japanese ancestry, we cannot reject as unfounded the judgment of the military authorities and of Congress that there were disloyal members of that population, whose number and strength could not be precisely and quickly ascertained. We cannot say that the war-making branches of the Government did not have ground for believing that in a critical hour such persons could not readily be isolated and separately dealt with, and constituted a menace to the national defense and safety, which demanded that prompt and adequate measures be taken to guard against it.

Appellant does not deny that, given the danger, a curfew was an appropriate measure against sabotage. It is an obvious protection against the perpetration of sabotage most readily committed during the hours of darkness. If it was an appropriate exercise of the war power its validity is not impaired because it has restricted the citizen’s liberty. Like every military control of the population of a dangerous zone in war time, it necessarily involves some infringement of individual liberty, just as does the police establishment of fire lines during a fire, or the confinement of people to their houses during an air raid alarm — neither of which could be thought to be an infringement of constitutional right. Like them, the validity of the restraints of the curfew order depends on all the conditions which obtain at the time the curfew is imposed and which support the order imposing it.

*100But appellant insists that the exercise of the power is inappropriate and unconstitutional because it discriminates against citizens of Japanese ancestry, in violation of the Fifth Amendment. The Fifth Amendment contains no equal protection clause and it restrains only such discriminatory legislation by Congress as amounts to a denial of due process. Detroit Bank v. United States, 317 U. S. 329, 337-38, and cases cited. Congress may hit at a particular danger where it is seen, without providing for others which are not so evident or so urgent. Keokee Coke Co. v. Taylor, 234 U. S. 224, 227.

Distinctions between citizens solely because of their ancestry are by their very nature odious to a free people whose institutions are founded upon the doctrine of equality. For that reason, legislative classification or discrimination based on race alone has often been held to be a denial of equal protection. Yick Wo v. Hopkins, 118 U. S. 356; Yu Cong Eng v. Trinidad, 271 U. S. 500; Hill v. Texas, 316 U. S. 400. We may assume that these considerations would be controlling here were it not for the fact that the danger of espionage and sabotage, in time of war and of threatened invasion, calls upon the military authorities to scrutinize every relevant fact bearing on the loyalty of populations in the danger areas. Because racial discriminations are in most circumstances irrelevant and therefore prohibited, it by no means follows that, in dealing with the perils of war, Congress and the Executive are wholly precluded from taking into account those facts and circumstances which are relevant to measures for our national defense and for the successful prosecution of the war, and which may in fact place citizens of one ancestry in a different category from others. “We must never forget, that it is a constitution we are expounding,” “a constitution intended to endure for ages to come, and, consequently, to be adapted to the various crises of human *101affairs.” McCulloch v. Maryland, 4 Wheat. 316, 407, 415. The adoption by Government, in the crisis of war and of threatened invasion, of measures for the public safety, based upon the recognition of facts and circumstances which indicate that a group of one national extraction may menace that safety more than others, is not wholly beyond the limits of the Constitution and is not to be condemned merely because in other and in most circumstances racial distinctions are irrelevant. Cf. Clarke v. Deckebach, 274 U. S. 392, and cases cited.

Here the aim of Congress and the Executive was the protection against sabotage of war materials and utilities in areas thought to be in danger of Japanase invasion and air attack. We have stated in detail facts and circumstances with respect to the American citizens of Japanese ancestry residing on the Pacific Coast which support the judgment of the war-waging branches of the Government that some restrictive measure was urgent. We cannot say that these facts and circumstances, considered in the particular war setting, could afford no ground for differentiating citizens of Japanese ancestry from other groups in the United States. The fact alone that attack on our shores was threatened by Japan rather than another enemy power set these citizens apart from others who have no particular associations with Japan.

Our investigation here does not go beyond the inquiry whether, in the light of all the relevant circumstances pre- j ceding and attending their promulgation, the challenged! orders and statute afforded a reasonable basis for the action taken in imposing the curfew. We cannot close our eyes to the fact, demonstrated by experience, that in, time of war residents having ethnic affiliations with an invading enemy may be a greater source of danger than those of a different ancestry. Nor can we deny that Congress, and the military authorities acting with its *102authorization, have constitutional power to appraise the danger in the light of facts of public notoriety. We need not now attempt to define the ultimate boundaries of the war power. We decide only the issue as we have defined it — we decide only that the curfew order as applied, and at the time it was applied, was within the boundaries of the war power. In this case it is enough that circumstances within the knowledge of those charged with the responsibility for maintaining the national defense afforded a rational basis for the decision which they made. Whether we would have made it is irrelevant.

What we have said also disposes of the contention that the curfew order involved an unlawful delegation by Congress of its legislative power. The mandate of the Constitution that all legislative power granted “shall be vested in Congress” has never been thought, even in the administration of civil affairs, to preclude Congress from resorting to the aid of executive or administrative officers in determining by findings whether the facts are such as to call for the application of previously adopted legislative standards or definitions of Congressional policy.

The purpose of Executive Order No. 9066, and the standard which the President approved for the orders authorized to be promulgated by the military commander— as disclosed by the preamble of the Executive Order — was the protection of our war resources against espionage and sabotage. Public Proclamations Nos. 1 and 2 by General DeWitt, contain findings that the military areas created and the measures to be prescribed for them were required to establish safeguards against espionage and sabotage. Both the Executive Order and the Proclamations were before Congress when the Act of March 21, 1942, was under consideration. To the extent that the Executive Order authorized orders to be promulgated by the military commander to accomplish the declared purpose of the *103Order, and to the extent that the findings in the Proclamations establish that such was their purpose, both have been approved by Congress.

It is true that the Act does not in terms establish a particular standard to which orders of the military commander are to conform, or require findings to be made as a prerequisite to any order. But the Executive Order, the Proclamations and the statute are not to be read in isolation from each other. They were parts of a single program and must be judged as such. The Act of March 21, 1942, was an adoption by Congress of the Executive Order and of the Proclamations. The Proclamations themselves followed a standard authorized by the Executive Order — the necessity of protecting military resources in the designated areas against espionage and sabotage. And by the Act, Congress gave its approval to that standard. We have no need to consider now the. validity of action if taken by the military commander without conforming to this standard approved by Congress, or the validity of orders made without the support of findings showing that they do so conform. Here the findings of danger from espionage and sabotage, and of the necessity of the curfew order to protect against them, have been duly made. General DeWitt’s Public Proclamation No. 3, which established the curfew, merely prescribed regulations of the type and in the manner which Public Proclamations Nos. 1 and 2 had announced would be prescribed at a future date, and was thus founded on the findings of Proclamations Nos. 1 and 2.

The military commander’s appraisal of facts in the light of the authorized standard, and the inferences which he drew from those facts, involved the exercise of his informed judgment. But as we have seen, those facts, and the inferences which could be rationally drawn from them, support the judgment of the military commander, that *104the danger of espionage and sabotage to our military resources was imminent, and that the curfew order was an appropriate measure to meet it.

Where, as in the present case, the standard set up for the guidance of the military commander, and the action taken and the reasons for it, are in fact recorded in the military orders, so that Congress, the courts and the public are assured that the orders, in the judgment of the commander, conform to the standards approved by the President and Congress, there is no failure in the performance of the legislative function. Opp Cotton Mills v. Administrator, 312 U. S. 126, 142-46, and cases cited. The essentials of that function are the determination by Congress of the legislative policy and its approval of a rule of conduct to carry that policy into execution. The very necessities which attend the conduct of military operations in time of war in this instance as in many others preclude Congress from holding committee meetings to determine whether there is danger, before it enacts legislation to combat the danger.

The Constitution as a continuously operating charter of government does not demand the impossible or the impractical. The essentials of the legislative function are preserved when Congress authorizes a statutory command to become operative, upon ascertainment of a basic conclusion of fact by a designated representative of the Government. Cf. The Aurora, 7 Cranch 382; United States v. Chemical Foundation, 272 U. S. 1, 12. The present statute, which authorized curfew orders to be made pursuant to Executive Order No. 9066 for the protection of war resources from espionage and sabotage, satisfies those requirements. Under the Executive Order the basic facts, determined by the military commander in the light of knowledge then available, were whether that danger existed and whether a curfew order was an appropriate means of minimizing the danger. Since his findings to *105that effect were, as we have said, not without adequate support, the legislative function was performed and the sanction of the statute attached to violations of the curfew order. It is unnecessary to consider whether or to what extent such findings would support orders differing from the curfew order.

The conviction under the second count is without constitutional infirmity. Hence we have no occasion to review the conviction on the first count since, as already stated, the sentences on the two counts are to run concurrently and conviction on the second is sufficient to sustain the sentence. For this reason also it is unnecessary to consider the Government’s argument that compliance with the order to report at the Civilian Control Station did not necessarily entail confinement in a relocation center.

Affirmed.

Me. Justice Douglas,

concurring:

While I concur in the result and agree substantially with the opinion of the Court, I wish to add a few words to indicate what for me is the narrow ground of decision.

After the disastrous bombing of Pearl Harbor the military had a grave problem on its hands. The threat of Japanese invasion of the west coast was not fanciful but real. The presence of many thousands of aliens and citizens of Japanese ancestry in or near to the key points along that coast line aroused special concern in those charged with the defense of the country. They believed that not only among aliens but also among citizens of Japanese ancestry there were those who would give aid and comfort to the Japanese invader and act as a fifth column before and during an invasion.1 If the military *106were right in their belief that among citizens of Japanese ancestry there was an actual or incipient fifth column, we were indeed faced with the imminent threat of a dire emergency. We must credit the military with as much good faith in that belief as we would any other public official acting pursuant to his duties. We cannot possibly know all the facts which lay behind that decision. Some of them may have been as intangible and as imponderable as the factors which influence personal or business decisions in daily life. The point is that we cannot sit in judgment on the military requirements of that hour. Where the orders under the present Act have some relation to “protection against espionage and against sabotage,” our task is at an end.

Much of the argument assumes that as a matter of policy it might have been wiser for the military to have dealt with these people on an individual basis and through the process of investigation and hearings separated those who were loyal from those who were not. But the wisdom or expediency of the decision which was made is not for us to review. Nor are we warranted where national survival is at stake in insisting that those orders should not have been applied to anyone without some evidence of his disloyalty. The orders as applied to the petitioner are not to be tested by the substantial evidence rule. Peacetime procedures do not necessarily fit wartime needs. It is said that if citizens of Japanese ancestry were generally disloyal, treatment on a group basis might be justified. But there is no difference in power when the num*107ber of those who are finally shown to be disloyal or suspect is reduced to a small per cent. The sorting process might indeed be as time-consuming whether those who were disloyal or suspect constituted nine or ninety-nine per cent. And the pinch of the order on the loyal citizens would be as great in any ease. But where the peril is great and the time is short, temporary treatment on a group basis may be the only practicable expedient whatever the ultimate percentage of those who are detained for cause. Nor should the military be required to wait until espionage or sabotage becomes effective before it moves.

It is true that we might now say that there was ample time to handle the problem on the individual rather than the group basis. But military decisions must be made without the benefit of hindsight. The orders must be judged as of the date when the decision to issue them was made. To say that the military in such cases should take the time to weed out the loyal from the others would be to assume that the nation could afford to have them take the time to do it. But as the opinion of the Court makes clear, speed and dispatch may be of the essence. Certainly we cannot say that those charged with the defense of the nation should have procrastinated until investigations and hearings wrere completed. At that time further delay might indeed have seemed to be wholly incompatible with military responsibilities.

Since we cannot override the military judgment which lay behind these orders, it seems to me necessary to concede that the army had the power to deal temporarily with these people on a group basis. Petitioner therefore was not justified in disobeying the orders.

But I think it important to emphasize that we are dealing here with a problem of loyalty not assimilation. Loyalty is a matter of mind and of heart not of race. That indeed is the history of America. Moreover, guilt is per*108sonal under our constitutional system. Detention for reasonable cause is one thing. Detention on account of ancestry is another.

In this case the petitioner tendered by a plea in abatement the question of his loyalty to the United States. I think that plea was properly stricken; military measures of defense might be paralyzed if it were necessary to try out that issue preliminarily. But a denial of that opportunity in this case does not necessarily mean that petitioner could not have had a hearing on that issue in some appropriate proceeding. Obedience to the military orders is one thing. Whether an individual member of a group must be afforded at some stage an opportunity to show that, being loyal, he should be reclassified is a wholly different question.

There are other instances in the law where one must obey an order before he can attack as erroneous the classification in which he has been placed. Thus it is commonly held that one who is a conscientious objector has no privilege to defy the Selective Service Act and to refuse or fail to be inducted. He must submit to the law. But that line of authority holds that after induction he may obtain through habeas corpus a hearing on the legality of his classification by the draft board.2 Whether in the present situation that remedy would be available is one *109of the large and important issues reserved by the present decision. It has been suggested that an administrative procedure has been established to relieve against unwarranted applications of these orders. Whether in that event the administrative remedy would be the only one available or would have to be first exhausted is also reserved. The scope of any relief which might be afforded — whether the liberties of an applicant could be restored only outside the areas in question — is likewise a distinct issue. But if it were plain that no machinery was available whereby the individual could demonstrate his loyalty as a citizen in order to be reclassified, questions of a more serious character would be presented. The United States, however, takes no such position. We need go no further here than to deny the individual the right to defy the law. It is sufficient to say that he cannot test in that way the validity of the orders as applied to him.

Me. Justice Murphy,

concurring:

It is not to be doubted that the action taken by the military commander in pursuance of the authority conferred upon him was taken in complete good faith and in the firm conviction that it was required by considerations of public safety and military security. Neither is it doubted that the Congress and the Executive working together may generally employ such measures as are necessary and appropriate to provide for the common defense and to wage war “with all the force necessary to make it effective.” United States v. Macintosh, 283 U. S. 605, 622. This includes authority to exercise measures of control over persons and property which would not in all cases be permissible in normal times.1

*110It does not follow, however, that the broad guaranties of the Bill of Rights and other provisions of the Constitution protecting essential liberties are suspended by the mere existence of a state of war. It has been frequently stated and recognized by this Court that the war power, like the other great substantive powers of government, is subject to the limitations of the Constitution. See Ex parte Milligan, 4 Wall. 2; Hamilton v. Kentucky Distilleries Co., 251 U. S. 146, 156; Home Building & Loan Assn. v. Blaisdell, 290 U. S. 393, 426. We give great deference to the judgment of the Congress and of the military authorities as to what is necessary in the effective prosecution of the war, but we can never forget that there are constitutional boundaries which it is our duty to uphold. It would not be supposed, for instance, that public elections could be suspended or that the prerogatives of the courts could be set aside, or that persons not charged with offenses against the law of war (see Ex parte Quirin, 317 U. S. 1) could be deprived of due process of law and the benefits of trial by jury, in the absence of a valid declaration of martial law. Cf. Ex parte Milligan, supra.

Distinctions based on color and ancestry are utterly inconsistent with our traditions and ideals. They are at variance with the principles for which we are now waging war. We cannot close our eyes to the fact that for centuries the Old World has been torn by racial and religious conflicts and has suffered the worst kind of anguish because of inequality of treatment for different groups. There was one law for one and a different law for another. Nothing is written more firmly into our law than the compact of the Plymouth voyagers to have just *111and equal laws. To say that any group cannot be assimilated is to admit that the great American experiment has failed, that our way of life has failed when confronted with the normal attachment of certain groups to the lands of their forefathers. As a nation we embrace many groups, some of them among the oldest settlements in our midst, which have isolated themselves for religious and cultural reasons.

Today is the first time, so far as I am aware, that we have sustained a substantial restriction of the personal liberty of citizens of the United States based upon the accident of race or ancestry. Under the curfew order here challenged no less than 70,000 American citizens have been placed under a special ban and deprived of their liberty because of their particular racial inheritance. In this sense it bears a melancholy resemblance to the treatment accorded to members of the Jewish race in Germany and in other parts of Europe. The result is the creation in this country of two classes of citizens for the purposes of a critical and perilous hour — to sanction discrimination between groups of United States citizens on the basis of ancestry. In my opinion this goes to 'the very brink of constitutional power.

Except under conditions of great emergency a regulation of this kind applicable solely to citizens of a particular racial extraction would not be regarded as in accord with the requirement of due process of law contained in the Fifth Amendment. We have consistently held that attempts to apply regulatory action to particular groups solely on the basis of racial distinction or classification is not in accordance with due process of law as prescribed by the Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments. Cf. Yick Wo v. Hopkins, 118 U. S. 356, 369; Yu Cong Eng v. Trinidad, 271 U. S. 500, 524-28. See also Boyd v. Frankfort, 117 Ky. 199, 77 S. W. 669; Opinion of the Justices, 207 Mass. *112601, 94 N. E. 558. It is true that the Fifth Amendment, unlike the Fourteenth, contains no guarantee of equal protection of the laws. Cf. Currin v. Wallace, 306 U. S. 1, 14. It is also true that even the guaranty of equal protection of the laws allows a measure of reasonable classification. It by no means follows, however, that there may not be discrimination of such an injurious character in the application of laws as to amount to a denial of due process of law as that term is used in the Fifth Amendment.2 I think that point is dangerously approached when we have one law for the majority of our citizens and another for those of a particular racial heritage.

In view, however, of the critical military situation which prevailed on the Pacific Coast area in the spring of 1942, and the urgent necessity of taking prompt and effective action to secure defense installations and military operations against the risk of sabotage and espionage, the military authorities should not be required to conform to standards of regulatory action appropriate to normal times. Because of the damage wrought by the Japanese at Pearl Harbor and the availability of new weapons and new techniques with greater capacity for speed and deception in offensive operations, the immediate possibility of an attempt at invasion somewhere along the Pacific Coast had to be reckoned with. However desirable such a procedure might have been, the military authorities could have reasonably concluded at *113the time that determinations as to the loyalty and dependability of individual members of the large and widely scattered group of persons of Japanese extraction on the West Coast could not be made without delay that might have had tragic consequences. Modern war does not always wait for the observance of procedural requirements that are considered essential and appropriate under normal conditions. Accordingly I think that the military arm, confronted with the peril of imminent enemy attack and acting under the authority conferred by the Congress, made an allowable judgment at the time the curfew restriction was imposed. Whether such a restriction is valid today is another matter.

In voting for affirmance of the judgment I do not wish to be understood as intimating that the military authorities in time of war are subject to no restraints whatsoever, or that they are free to impose any restrictions they may choose on the rights and liberties of individual citizens or groups of citizens in those places which may be designated as “military areas.” While this Court sits, it has the inescapable duty of seeing that the mandates of the Constitution are obeyed. That duty exists in time of war as well as in time of peace, and in its performance we must not forget that few indeed have been the invasions upon essential liberties which have not been accompanied by pleas of urgent necessity advanced in good faith by responsible men. Cf. Mr. Justice Brandeis concurring in Whitney v. California, 274 U. S. 357, 372.

Nor do I mean to intimate that citizens of a particular racial group whose freedom may be curtailed within an area threatened with attack should be generally prevented from leaving the area and going at large in other areas that are not in danger of attack and where special precautions are not needed. Their status as citizens, though subject to requirements of national security and *114military necessity, should at all times be accorded the fullest consideration and respect. When the danger is past, the restrictions imposed on them should be promptly removed and their freedom of action fully restored.

Mr. Justice Rutledge,

concurring:

I concur in the Court’s opinion, except for the suggestion, if that is intended (as to which I make no assertion), that the courts have no power to review any action a military officer may “in his discretion” find it necessary to take with respect to civilian citizens in military areas or zones, once it is found that an emergency has created the conditions requiring or justifying the creation of the area or zone and the institution of some degree of military control short of suspending habeas corpus. Given the generating conditions for exercise of military authority and recognizing the wide latitude for particular applications that ordinarily creates, I do not think it is necessary in this case to decide that there is no action a person in the position of General DeWitt here may take, and which he may regard as necessary to the region’s or the country’s safety, which will call judicial power into play. The officer of course must have wide discretion and room for its operation. But it does not follow there may not be bounds beyond which he cannot go and, if he oversteps them, that the courts may not have power to protect the civilian citizen. But in this case that question need not be faced and I merely add my reservation without indication of opinion concerning it.

1.2 Part II- Individual Rights- Freedom of Religion 1.2 Part II- Individual Rights- Freedom of Religion

1.2.1 Introduction- The Establishment Clause 1.2.1 Introduction- The Establishment Clause

Freedom of Religion

America was populated, beginning with the fabled Pilgrims' landing on Plymouth Rock in 1620, largely by exiles fleeing Europe in search of greater freedom of conscience and religion. Therefore, it comes as no surprise that the Bill of Rights boldly asserts that: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof. . . .” These words were a reaction to the experience in England where state and church were united under a single sovereign. The drafters of the Bill of Rights might well have stopped with enshrining the right to free exercise of religion, but they did not. Recognizing the inherently coercive nature of state religions, they prohibited state support for, or establishment of, religion in any form. Thus, religious freedom in the U.S. takes the form of two separate but related provisions: the Establishment Clause and the Free Exercise Clause.

Establishment Clause

Establishment Clause issues often turn into emotional debates as a result of the tension between the evolving social reality of the United States and the constitutional language. The fact is that a majority of American citizens are Christian, and many of the values underlying the law flow out of Judeo- Christian traditions. It seems quite natural to many Americans that religiously inspired ideology and imagery be included in everyday life, whether that aspect of everyday life is in the private or public sphere. Nativity scenes, crosses, and menorah situated on public property are meant to engender a holiday spirit as much as to represent a belief in their underlying creeds. Religious symbols and exhortations are, to many Americans, largely ceremonial in nature. For example: the words “In God We Trust” appearing on the one dollar bill.

A sometimes potent mix of religion and politics can be seen in the “religious right.” This loosely connected federation of churches and Christian fundamentalists sees the expansion of civil liberties (except when they are favorable to their interests) as a threat to what they believe to be the Christian heritage of America. To some fundamentalists, the Supreme Court is a bastion of secular evils, and every religion case is an opportunity to reassert that America is a Christian nation. The Supreme Court decided in Stone v. Graham, 449 U.S. 39 (1980) that the posting of the Ten Commandments in public schools was a violation of the Establishment Clause. Under the Court's rulings, laws aiding religion would be struck down unless they had a secular purpose and primary effect, and did not excessively entangle the government with religion. Yet, the Religious Right refuses to accept this and other rulings and, as recently as 2003, the Chief Justice of the Alabama Supreme Court had to be removed from his position for failing to follow an order to remove a stone monument bearing the Ten Commandments from the courthouse. The leading case in the Establishment Clause area is Lemon v. Kurtzman, 403 U.S. 602 (1971). The Lemon case involved a challenge to a state aid program for non-public schools. The Court announced a three-part test for assessing whether a government activity can pass constitutional muster under the Establishment Clause. First, the statute must have a secular legislative purpose. Second, its principal or primary effect must be one that neither advances nor inhibits religion. Third, the law must not foster excessive government entanglement with religion. Questions involving school prayer and the use of school facilities for religious activities remain among the most contentious. Under the Lemon test, a variety of state-supported private school programs have survived constitutional scrutiny. In Zelman v. Simmons-Harris, 536 U.S. 639 (2002), the Court upheld an Ohio pilot program that provided parents with vouchers from public funds that they could use to help pay for their children's tuition at private religiously-affiliated schools. The majority concluded that the program's purpose and effect was to aid education, not to assist religion.

1.2.2 McCreary County v. American Civil Liberties Union 1.2.2 McCreary County v. American Civil Liberties Union

545 U.S. 844 (2005)

McCREARY COUNTY, KENTUCKY, ET AL.
v.
AMERICAN CIVIL LIBERTIES UNION OF KENTUCKY ET AL.

No. 03-1693.
Supreme Court of United States.
Argued March 2, 2005.
Decided June 27, 2005.

[849] Mathew D. Staver argued the cause for petitioners. With him on the briefs were Erik W. Stanley, Rena M. Lindevaldsen, Bruce W. Green, and Mary E. McAlister.

Acting Solicitor General Clement argued the cause for the United States as amicus curiae urging reversal. With him on the brief were Assistant Attorney General Keisler, Deputy Assistant Attorney General Katsas, Patricia A. Millett, Robert M. Loeb, and Lowell V. Sturgill, Jr.

David A. Friedman argued the cause for respondents. With him on the brief were Lili R. Lutgens and Steven R. Shapiro.[1]

[850] JUSTICE SOUTER delivered the opinion of the Court.

Executives of two counties posted a version of the Ten Commandments on the walls of their courthouses. After suits were filed charging violations of the Establishment Clause, the legislative body of each county adopted a resolution calling for a more extensive exhibit meant to show that the Commandments are Kentucky's "precedent legal code," Def. Exh. 1 in Memorandum in Support of Defendants' Motion to Dismiss in Civ. Action No. 99-507, p. 1 (ED Ky.) (hereinafter Def. Exh. 1). The result in each instance was a modified display of the Commandments surrounded by texts containing religious references as their sole common element. After changing counsel, the counties revised the exhibits again by eliminating some documents, expanding the text set out in another, and adding some new ones.

The issues are whether a determination of the counties' purpose is a sound basis for ruling on the Establishment Clause complaints, and whether evaluation of the counties' claim of secular purpose for the ultimate displays may take their evolution into account. We hold that the counties' manifest objective may be dispositive of the constitutional [851] enquiry, and that the development of the presentation should be considered when determining its purpose.

I

In the summer of 1999, petitioners McCreary County and Pulaski County, Kentucky (hereinafter Counties), put up in their respective courthouses large, gold-framed copies of an abridged text of the King James version of the Ten Commandments, including a citation to the Book of Exodus.[2] In McCreary County, the placement of the Commandments responded to an order of the county legislative body requiring "the display [to] be posted in `a very high traffic area' of the courthouse." 96 F. Supp. 2d 679, 684 (ED Ky. 2000). In Pulaski County, amidst reported controversy over the propriety of the display, the Commandments were hung in a ceremony presided over by the county Judge-Executive, who called them "good rules to live by" and who recounted the story of an astronaut who became convinced "there must be a divine God" after viewing the Earth from the moon. Dodson, Commonwealth Journal, July 25, 1999, p. A1, col. 2, in Memorandum in Support of Plaintiffs' Motion for Preliminary Injunction in Civ. Action No. 99-509 (ED Ky.) (internal quotation marks omitted). The Judge-Executive was accompanied by the pastor of his church, who called the Commandments "a creed of ethics" and told the press after the ceremony that displaying the Commandments was "one of the greatest things the judge could have done to close out the millennium." Id., at A2, col. 3 (internal quotation marks omitted). In both Counties, this was the version of the Commandments posted:

"Thou shalt have no other gods before me.

[852] "Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven images.

"Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.

"Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy.

"Honor thy father and thy mother.

"Thou shalt not kill.

"Thou shalt not commit adultery.

"Thou shalt not steal.

"Thou shalt not bear false witness.

"Thou shalt not covet.

"Exodus 20:3-17."[3] Def. Exh. 9 in Memorandum in Support of Defendants' Motion to Dismiss in Civ. Action No. 99-507 (ED Ky.) (hereinafter Def. Exh. 9).

In each County, the hallway display was "readily visible to . . . county citizens who use the courthouse to conduct their civic business, to obtain or renew driver's licenses and permits, to register cars, to pay local taxes, and to register to vote." 96 F. Supp. 2d, at 684; American Civil Liberties Union of Kentucky v. Pulaski County, 96 F. Supp. 2d 691, 695 (ED Ky. 2000).

In November 1999, respondents American Civil Liberties Union of Kentucky et al. sued the Counties in Federal District Court under Rev. Stat. § 1979, 42 U. S. C. § 1983, and sought a preliminary injunction against maintaining the displays, which the ACLU charged were violations of the prohibition of religious establishment included in the First Amendment of the Constitution.[4] Within a month, and before [853] the District Court had responded to the request for injunction, the legislative body of each County authorized a second, expanded display, by nearly identical resolutions reciting that the Ten Commandments are "the precedent legal code upon which the civil and criminal codes of . . . Kentucky are founded," and stating several grounds for taking that position: that "the Ten Commandments are codified in Kentucky's civil and criminal laws"; that the Kentucky House of Representatives had in 1993 "voted unanimously . . . to adjourn . . . `in remembrance and honor of Jesus Christ, the Prince of Ethics'"; that the "County Judge and . . . magistrates agree with the arguments set out by Judge [Roy] Moore" in defense of his "display [of] the Ten Commandments in his courtroom"; and that the "Founding Father[s] [had an] explicit understanding of the duty of elected officials to publicly acknowledge God as the source of America's strength and direction." Def. Exh. 1, at 1-3, 6.

As directed by the resolutions, the Counties expanded the displays of the Ten Commandments in their locations, presumably along with copies of the resolution, which instructed that it, too, be posted, id., at 9. In addition to the first display's large framed copy of the edited King James version of the Commandments,[5] the second included eight other documents in smaller frames, each either having a religious [854] theme or excerpted to highlight a religious element. The documents were the "endowed by their Creator" passage from the Declaration of Independence; the Preamble to the Constitution of Kentucky; the national motto, "In God We Trust"; a page from the Congressional Record of February 2, 1983, proclaiming the Year of the Bible and including a statement of the Ten Commandments; a proclamation by President Abraham Lincoln designating April 30, 1863, a National Day of Prayer and Humiliation; an excerpt from President Lincoln's "Reply to Loyal Colored People of Baltimore upon Presentation of a Bible," reading that "[t]he Bible is the best gift God has ever given to man"; a proclamation by President Reagan marking 1983 the Year of the Bible; and the Mayflower Compact. 96 F. Supp. 2d, at 684; 96 F. Supp. 2d, at 695-696.

After argument, the District Court entered a preliminary injunction on May 5, 2000, ordering that the "display ... be removed from [each] County Courthouse IMMEDIATELY" and that no county official "erect or cause to be erected similar displays." 96 F. Supp. 2d, at 691; 96 F. Supp. 2d, at 702-703. The court's analysis of the situation followed the three-part formulation first stated in Lemon v. Kurtzman, 403 U. S. 602 (1971). As to governmental purpose, it concluded that the original display "lack[ed] any secular purpose" because the Commandments "are a distinctly religious document, believed by many Christians and Jews to be the direct and revealed word of God." 96 F. Supp. 2d, at 686; 96 F. Supp. 2d, at 698. Although the Counties had maintained that the original display was meant to be educational, "[t]he narrow scope of the display—a single religious text unaccompanied by any interpretation explaining its role as a foundational document—can hardly be said to present meaningfully the story of this country's religious traditions." 96 F. Supp. 2d, at 686-687; 96 F. Supp. 2d, at 698. The court found that the second version also "clearly lack[ed] a secular purpose" because the "Count[ies] narrowly tailored [their] selection of [855] foundational documents to incorporate only those with specific references to Christianity."[6] 96 F. Supp. 2d, at 687; 96 F. Supp. 2d, at 699.

The Counties filed a notice of appeal from the preliminary injunction but voluntarily dismissed it after hiring new lawyers. They then installed another display in each court-house, the third within a year. No new resolution authorized this one, nor did the Counties repeal the resolutions that preceded the second. The posting consists of nine framed documents of equal size, one of them setting out the Ten Commandments explicitly identified as the "King James Version" at Exodus 20:3-17, 145 F. Supp. 2d 845, 847 (ED Ky. 2001), and quoted at greater length than before:

"Thou shalt have no other gods before me.

"Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under-neath the earth: Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them: for I the LORD thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me.

"Thou shalt not take the name of the LORD thy God in vain: for the LORD will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain.

"Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy.

"Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.

"Thou shalt not kill.

[856] "Thou shalt not commit adultery.

"Thou shalt not steal.

"Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour.

"Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's house, thou shalt not covet th[y] neighbor's wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor anything that is th[y] neighbour's." App. to Pet. for Cert. 189a.

Assembled with the Commandments are framed copies of the Magna Carta, the Declaration of Independence, the Bill of Rights, the lyrics of the Star Spangled Banner, the May-flower Compact, the National Motto, the Preamble to the Kentucky Constitution, and a picture of Lady Justice. The collection is entitled "The Foundations of American Law and Government Display" and each document comes with a statement about its historical and legal significance. The comment on the Ten Commandments reads:

"The Ten Commandments have profoundly influenced the formation of Western legal thought and the formation of our country. That influence is clearly seen in the Declaration of Independence, which declared that `We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.' The Ten Commandments provide the moral background of the Declaration of Independence and the foundation of our legal tradition." Id., at 180a.

The ACLU moved to supplement the preliminary injunction to enjoin the Counties' third display,[7] and the Counties responded with several explanations for the new version, including [857] desires "to demonstrate that the Ten Commandments were part of the foundation of American Law and Government" and "to educate the citizens of the county regarding some of the documents that played a significant role in the foundation of our system of law and government." 145 F. Supp. 2d, at 848 (internal quotation marks omitted). The court, however, took the objective of proclaiming the Commandments' foundational value as "a religious, rather than secular, purpose" under Stone v. Graham, 449 U. S. 39 (1980) (per curiam), 145 F. Supp. 2d, at 849, and found that the assertion that the Counties' broader educational goals are secular "crumble[s] ... upon an examination of the history of this litigation," ibid. In light of the Counties' decision to post the Commandments by themselves in the first instance, contrary to Stone, and later to "accentuat[e]" the religious objective by surrounding the Commandments with "specific references to Christianity," the District Court understood the Counties' "clear" purpose as being to post the Commandments, not to educate.[8] 145 F. Supp. 2d, at 849-850 (internal quotation marks omitted).

As requested, the trial court supplemented the injunction, and a divided panel of the Court of Appeals for the Sixth Circuit affirmed. The Circuit majority stressed that under Stone, displaying the Commandments bespeaks a religious object unless they are integrated with other material so as to carry "a secular message," 354 F. 3d 438, 449 (2003). The majority judges saw no integration here because of a "lack of a demonstrated analytical or historical connection [between [858] the Commandments and] the other documents." Id., at 451. They noted in particular that the Counties offered no support for their claim that the Ten Commandments "provide[d] the moral backdrop" to the Declaration of Independence or otherwise "profoundly influenced" it. Ibid. (internal quotation marks omitted). The majority found that the Counties' purpose was religious, not educational, given the nature of the Commandments as "an active symbol of religion [stating] `the religious duties of believers.'" Id., at 455. The judges in the majority understood the identical displays to emphasize "a single religious influence, with no mention of any other religious or secular influences," id., at 454, and they took the very history of the litigation as evidence of the Counties' religious objective, id., at 457.

Judge Ryan dissented on the basis of wide recognition that religion, and the Ten Commandments in particular, have played a foundational part in the evolution of American law and government; he saw no reason to gainsay the Counties' claim of secular purposes. Id., at 472-473. The dissent denied that the prior displays should have any bearing on the constitutionality of the current one: a "history of unconstitutional displays can[not] be used as a sword to strike down an otherwise constitutional display."[9]Id., at 478.

We granted certiorari, 543 U. S. 924 (2004), and now affirm.

[859] II

Twenty-five years ago in a case prompted by posting the Ten Commandments in Kentucky's public schools, this Court recognized that the Commandments "are undeniably a sacred text in the Jewish and Christian faiths" and held that their display in public classrooms violated the First Amendment's bar against establishment of religion. Stone, 449 U. S., at 41. Stone found a predominantly religious purpose in the government's posting of the Commandments, given their prominence as "`an instrument of religion,'" id., at 41, n. 3 (quoting School Dist. of Abington Township v. Schempp, 374 U. S. 203, 224 (1963)). The Counties ask for a different approach here by arguing that official purpose is unknowable and the search for it inherently vain. In the alternative, the Counties would avoid the District Court's conclusion by having us limit the scope of the purpose enquiry so severely that any trivial rationalization would suffice, under a standard oblivious to the history of religious government action like the progression of exhibits in this case.

A

Ever since Lemon v. Kurtzman summarized the three familiar considerations for evaluating Establishment Clause claims, looking to whether government action has "a secular legislative purpose" has been a common, albeit seldom dispositive, element of our cases. 403 U. S., at 612. Though we have found government action motivated by an illegitimate purpose only four times since Lemon,[10] and "the secular purpose requirement alone may rarely be determinative . . ., it nevertheless serves an important function."[11]Wallace v. [860] Jaffree, 472 U. S. 38, 75 (1985) (O'CONNOR, J., concurring in judgment).

The touchstone for our analysis is the principle that the "First Amendment mandates governmental neutrality between religion and religion, and between religion and nonreligion." Epperson v. Arkansas, 393 U. S. 97, 104 (1968); Everson v. Board of Ed. of Ewing, 330 U. S. 1, 15-16 (1947); Wallace, supra, at 53. When the government acts with the ostensible and predominant purpose of advancing religion, it violates that central Establishment Clause value of official religious neutrality, there being no neutrality when the government's ostensible object is to take sides. Corporation of Presiding Bishop of Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints v. Amos, 483 U. S. 327, 335 (1987) ("Lemon's `purpose' requirement aims at preventing [government] from abandoning neutrality and acting with the intent of promoting a particular point of view in religious matters"). Manifesting a purpose to favor one faith over another, or adherence to religion generally, clashes with the "understanding, reached . . . after decades of religious war, that liberty and social stability demand a religious tolerance that respects the religious views of all citizens ...." Zelman v. Simmons-Harris, 536 U. S. 639, 718 (2002) (BREYER, J., dissenting). By showing a purpose to favor religion, the government "sends the . . . message to . . . nonadherents `that they are outsiders, not full members of the political community, and an accompanying message to adherents that they are insiders, favored members . . . .'" Santa Fe Independent School Dist. v. Doe, 530 U. S. 290, 309-310 (2000) (quoting Lynch v. Donnelly, 465 U. S. 668, 688 (1984) (O'CONNOR, J., concurring)).

Indeed, the purpose apparent from government action can have an impact more significant than the result expressly [861] decreed: when the government maintains Sunday closing laws, it advances religion only minimally because many working people would take the day as one of rest regardless, but if the government justified its decision with a stated desire for all Americans to honor Christ, the divisive thrust of the official action would be inescapable. This is the teaching of McGowan v. Maryland, 366 U. S. 420 (1961), which upheld Sunday closing statutes on practical, secular grounds after finding that the government had forsaken the religious purposes behind centuries-old predecessor laws. Id., at 449-451.

B

Despite the intuitive importance of official purpose to the realization of Establishment Clause values, the Counties ask us to abandon Lemon's purpose test, or at least to truncate any enquiry into purpose here. Their first argument is that the very consideration of purpose is deceptive: according to them, true "purpose" is unknowable, and its search merely an excuse for courts to act selectively and unpredictably in picking out evidence of subjective intent. The assertions are as seismic as they are unconvincing.

Examination of purpose is a staple of statutory interpretation that makes up the daily fare of every appellate court in the country, e.g., General Dynamics Land Systems, Inc. v. Cline, 540 U. S. 581, 600 (2004) (interpreting statute in light of its "text, structure, purpose, and history"), and governmental purpose is a key element of a good deal of constitutional doctrine, e.g., Washington v. Davis, 426 U. S. 229 (1976) (discriminatory purpose required for Equal Protection violation); Hunt v. Washington State Apple Advertising Comm'n, 432 U. S. 333, 352-353 (1977) (discriminatory purpose relevant to dormant Commerce Clause claim); Church of Lukumi Babalu Aye, Inc. v. Hialeah, 508 U. S. 520 (1993) (discriminatory purpose raises level of scrutiny required by free exercise claim). With enquiries into purpose this common, if they were nothing but hunts for mares' nests deflecting [862] attention from bare judicial will, the whole notion of purpose in law would have dropped into disrepute long ago.

But scrutinizing purpose does make practical sense, as in Establishment Clause analysis, where an understanding of official objective emerges from readily discoverable fact, without any judicial psychoanalysis of a drafter's heart of hearts. Wallace, 472 U. S., at 74 (O'CONNOR, J., concurring in judgment). The eyes that look to purpose belong to an "`objective observer,'" one who takes account of the traditional external signs that show up in the "`text, legislative history, and implementation of the statute,'" or comparable official act. Santa Fe, supra, at 308 (quoting Wallace, supra, at 76 (O'CONNOR, J., concurring in judgment)); see also Edwards v. Aguillard, 482 U. S. 578, 594-595 (1987) (enquiry looks to "plain meaning of the statute's words, enlightened by their context and the contemporaneous legislative history [and] the historical context of the statute, . . . and the specific sequence of events leading to [its] passage"). There is, then, nothing hinting at an unpredictable or disingenuous exercise when a court enquires into purpose after a claim is raised under the Establishment Clause.

The cases with findings of a predominantly religious purpose point to the straightforward nature of the test. In Wallace, for example, we inferred purpose from a change of wording from an earlier statute to a later one, each dealing with prayer in schools. 472 U. S., at 58-60. And in Edwards, we relied on a statute's text and the detailed public comments of its sponsor, when we sought the purpose of a state law requiring creationism to be taught alongside evolution. 482 U. S., at 586-588. In other cases, the government action itself bespoke the purpose, as in Abington, where the object of required Bible study in public schools was patently religious, 374 U. S., at 223-224; in Stone, the Court held that the "[p]osting of religious texts on the wall serve[d] no . . . educational function," and found that if "the posted copies of the Ten Commandments [were] to have any effect at all, it [863] [would] be to induce the schoolchildren to read, meditate upon, perhaps to venerate and obey, the Commandments." 449 U. S., at 42. In each case, the government's action was held unconstitutional only because openly available data supported a commonsense conclusion that a religious objective permeated the government's action.

Nor is there any indication that the enquiry is rigged in practice to finding a religious purpose dominant every time a case is filed. In the past, the test has not been fatal very often, presumably because government does not generally act unconstitutionally, with the predominant purpose of advancing religion. That said, one consequence of the corollary that Establishment Clause analysis does not look to the veiled psyche of government officers could be that in some of the cases in which establishment complaints failed, savvy officials had disguised their religious intent so cleverly that the objective observer just missed it. But that is no reason for great constitutional concern. If someone in the government hides religious motive so well that the "`objective observer, acquainted with the text, legislative history, and implementation of the statute,'" Santa Fe, 530 U. S., at 308 (quoting Wallace, supra, at 76 (O'CONNOR, J., concurring in judgment)), cannot see it, then without something more the government does not make a divisive announcement that in itself amounts to taking religious sides. A secret motive stirs up no strife and does nothing to make outsiders of nonadherents, and it suffices to wait and see whether such government action turns out to have (as it may even be likely to have) the illegitimate effect of advancing religion.

C

After declining the invitation to abandon concern with purpose wholesale, we also have to avoid the Counties' alternative tack of trivializing the enquiry into it. The Counties would read the cases as if the purpose enquiry were so naive that any transparent claim to secularity would satisfy it, and [864] they would cut context out of the enquiry, to the point of ignoring history, no matter what bearing it actually had on the significance of current circumstances. There is no precedent for the Counties' arguments, or reason supporting them.

1

Lemon said that government action must have "a secular. . . purpose," 403 U. S., at 612, and after a host of cases it is fair to add that although a legislature's stated reasons will generally get deference, the secular purpose required has to be genuine, not a sham, and not merely secondary to a religious objective. See, e.g., Santa Fe, supra, at 308 ("When a governmental entity professes a secular purpose for an arguably religious policy, the government's characterization is, of course, entitled to some deference. But it is nonetheless the duty of the courts to `distinguis[h] a sham secular purpose from a sincere one'"); Edwards, 482 U. S., at 586-587 ("While the Court is normally deferential to a State's articulation of a secular purpose, it is required that the statement of such purpose be sincere and not a sham"); id., at 590, 594 (referring to enquiry as one into "preeminent" or "primary" purpose); Stone, supra, at 41 (looking to the "pre-eminent purpose" of government action).

Even the Counties' own cited authority confirms that we have not made the purpose test a pushover for any secular claim. True, Wallace said government action is tainted by its object "if it is entirely motivated by a purpose to advance religion," 472 U. S., at 56, a remark that suggests, in isolation, a fairly complaisant attitude. But in that very case the Court declined to credit Alabama's stated secular rationale of "accommodation" for legislation authorizing a period of silence in school for meditation or voluntary prayer, given the implausibility of that explanation in light of another statute already accommodating children wishing to pray. Id., at 57, n. 45 (internal quotation marks omitted). And it would [865] be just as much a mistake to infer that a timid standard underlies the statement in Lynch v. Donnelly that the purpose enquiry looks to whether government "activity was motivated wholly by religious considerations," 465 U. S., at 680; for two cases cited for that proposition had examined and rejected claims of secular purposes that turned out to be implausible or inadequate:[12]Stone, supra, at 41; Abington, 374 U. S., at 223-224.[13] See also Bowen v. Kendrick, 487 U. S. 589, 602 (1988) (using the "motivated wholly by an impermissible purpose" language, but citing Lynch and Stone). As we said, the Court often does accept governmental statements of purpose, in keeping with the respect owed in the first instance to such official claims. But in those unusual cases where the claim was an apparent sham, or the secular purpose secondary, the unsurprising results have been findings of no adequate secular object, as against a predominantly religious one.[14]

[866] 2

The Counties' second proffered limitation can be dispatched quickly. They argue that purpose in a case like this one should be inferred, if at all, only from the latest news about the last in a series of governmental actions, however close they may all be in time and subject. But the world is not made brand new every morning, and the Counties are simply asking us to ignore perfectly probative evidence; they want an absentminded objective observer, not one presumed to be familiar with the history of the government's actions and competent to learn what history has to show, Santa Fe, 530 U. S., at 308 (objective observer is familiar with "`implementation of'" government action (quoting Wallace, supra, at 76 (O'CONNOR, J., concurring in judgment))); Edwards, supra, at 595 (enquiry looks to "the historical context of the statute ... and the specific sequence of events leading to [its] passage"); Capitol Square Review and Advisory Bd. v. Pinette, 515 U. S. 753, 780 (1995) (O'CONNOR, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment) ("[T]he reasonable observer in the endorsement inquiry must be deemed aware of the history and context of the community and forum in which the religious display appears"). The Counties' position just bucks common sense: reasonable observers have reasonable memories, and our precedents sensibly forbid an observer "to turn a blind eye to the context in which [the] policy arose."[15]Santa Fe, supra, at 315.

[867] III

This case comes to us on appeal from a preliminary injunction. We accordingly review the District Court's legal rulings de novo, and its ultimate conclusion for abuse of discretion.[16]Ashcroft v. American Civil Liberties Union, 542 U. S. 656 (2004).

We take Stone as the initial legal benchmark, our only case dealing with the constitutionality of displaying the Commandments. Stone recognized that the Commandments are an "instrument of religion" and that, at least on the facts before it, the display of their text could presumptively be understood as meant to advance religion: although state law specifically required their posting in public school classrooms, their isolated exhibition did not leave room even for an argument that secular education explained their being there. 449 U. S., at 41, n. 3 (internal quotation marks omitted). But Stone did not purport to decide the constitutionality of every possible way the Commandments might be set out by the government, and under the Establishment Clause detail is key. County of Allegheny v. American Civil Liberties Union, Greater Pittsburgh Chapter, 492 U. S. 573, 595 [868] (1989) (opinion of Blackmun, J.) ("[T]he question is what viewers may fairly understand to be the purpose of the display. That inquiry, of necessity, turns upon the context in which the contested object appears" (internal quotation marks and citation omitted)). Hence, we look to the record of evidence showing the progression leading up to the third display of the Commandments.

A

The display rejected in Stone had two obvious similarities to the first one in the sequence here: both set out a text of the Commandments as distinct from any traditionally symbolic representation, and each stood alone, not part of an arguably secular display. Stone stressed the significance of integrating the Commandments into a secular scheme to forestall the broadcast of an otherwise clearly religious message, 449 U. S., at 42, and for good reason, the Commandments being a central point of reference in the religious and moral history of Jews and Christians. They proclaim the existence of a monotheistic god (no other gods). They regulate details of religious obligation (no graven images, no sabbath breaking, no vain oath swearing). And they unmistakably rest even the universally accepted prohibitions (as against murder, theft, and the like) on the sanction of the divinity proclaimed at the beginning of the text. Displaying that text is thus different from a symbolic depiction, like tablets with 10 roman numerals, which could be seen as alluding to a general notion of law, not a sectarian conception of faith. Where the text is set out, the insistence of the religious message is hard to avoid in the absence of a context plausibly suggesting a message going beyond an excuse to promote the religious point of view. The display in Stone had no context that might have indicated an object beyond the religious character of the text, and the Counties' solo exhibit here did nothing more to counter the sectarian implication than the [869] postings at issue in Stone.[17] See also County of Allegheny, supra, at 598 ("Here, unlike in Lynch [v. Donnelly], nothing in the context of the display detracts from the crèche's religious message"). Actually, the posting by the Counties lacked even the Stone display's implausible disclaimer that the Commandments were set out to show their effect on the civil law.[18] What is more, at the ceremony for posting the framed Commandments in Pulaski County, the county executive was accompanied by his pastor, who testified to the certainty of the existence of God. The reasonable observer could only think that the Counties meant to emphasize and celebrate the Commandments' religious message.

This is not to deny that the Commandments have had influence on civil or secular law; a major text of a majority religion is bound to be felt. The point is simply that the original text viewed in its entirety is an unmistakably religious statement dealing with religious obligations and with morality subject to religious sanction. When the government initiates an effort to place this statement alone in public view, a religious object is unmistakable.

B

Once the Counties were sued, they modified the exhibits and invited additional insight into their purpose in a display that hung for about six months. This new one was the product of forthright and nearly identical Pulaski and McCreary County resolutions listing a series of American historical documents with theistic and Christian references, which [870] were to be posted in order to furnish a setting for displaying the Ten Commandments and any "other Kentucky and American historical documen[t]" without raising concern about "any Christian or religious references" in them. Def. Exh. 1, at 1. As mentioned, the resolutions expressed support for an Alabama judge who posted the Commandments in his courtroom, and cited the fact the Kentucky Legislature once adjourned a session in honor of "Jesus Christ, the Prince of Ethics." Id., at 2-3.

In this second display, unlike the first, the Commandments were not hung in isolation, merely leaving the Counties' purpose to emerge from the pervasively religious text of the Commandments themselves. Instead, the second version was required to include the statement of the government's purpose expressly set out in the county resolutions, and underscored it by juxtaposing the Commandments to other documents with highlighted references to God as their sole common element. The display's unstinting focus was on religious passages, showing that the Counties were posting the Commandments precisely because of their sectarian content. That demonstration of the government's objective was enhanced by serial religious references and the accompanying resolution's claim about the embodiment of ethics in Christ. Together, the display and resolution presented an indisputable, and undisputed, showing of an impermissible purpose.

Today, the Counties make no attempt to defend their undeniable objective, but instead hopefully describe version two as "dead and buried." Reply Brief for Petitioners 15. Their refusal to defend the second display is understandable, but the reasonable observer could not forget it.

C

1

After the Counties changed lawyers, they mounted a third display, without a new resolution or repeal of the old one. The result was the "Foundations of American Law and Government" [871] exhibit, which placed the Commandments in the company of other documents the Counties thought especially significant in the historical foundation of American government. In trying to persuade the District Court to lift the preliminary injunction, the Counties cited several new purposes for the third version, including a desire "to educate the citizens of the county regarding some of the documents that played a significant role in the foundation of our system of law and government."[19] 145 F. Supp. 2d, at 848 (internal quotation marks omitted). The Counties' claims did not, however, persuade the court, intimately familiar with the details of this litigation, or the Court of Appeals, neither of which found a legitimizing secular purpose in this third version of the display. "`When both courts [that have already passed on the case] are unable to discern an arguably valid secular purpose, this Court normally should hesitate to find one.'" Edwards, 482 U. S., at 594, n. 15 (quoting Wallace, 472 U. S., at 66 (Powell, J., concurring)). The conclusions of the two courts preceding us in this case are well warranted.

These new statements of purpose were presented only as a litigating position, there being no further authorizing action by the Counties' governing boards. And although repeal of the earlier county authorizations would not have erased them from the record of evidence bearing on current purpose,[20] the extraordinary resolutions for the second display passed just months earlier were not repealed or otherwise [872] repudiated.[21] Indeed, the sectarian spirit of the common resolution found enhanced expression in the third display, which quoted more of the purely religious language of the Commandments than the first two displays had done; for additions, see App. to Pet. for Cert. 189a ("I the LORD thy God am a jealous God") (text of Second Commandment in third display); ("the LORD will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain") (text of Third Commandment); and ("that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee") (text of Fifth Commandment). No reasonable observer could swallow the claim that the Counties had cast off the objective so unmistakable in the earlier displays.

Nor did the selection of posted material suggest a clear theme that might prevail over evidence of the continuing religious object. In a collection of documents said to be "foundational" to American government, it is at least odd to include a patriotic anthem, but to omit the Fourteenth Amendment, the most significant structural provision adopted since the original Framing. And it is no less baffling to leave out the original Constitution of 1787 while quoting the 1215 Magna Carta even to the point of its declaration that "fish-weirs shall be removed from the Thames." Id., at 205a, ¶ 33. If an observer found these choices and omissions perplexing in isolation, he would be puzzled for a [873] different reason when he read the Declaration of Independence seeking confirmation for the Counties' posted explanation that the Ten Commandments'"influence is clearly seen in the Declaration," id., at 180a; in fact the observer would find that the Commandments are sanctioned as divine imperatives, while the Declaration of Independence holds that the authority of government to enforce the law derives "from the consent of the governed," id., at 190a.[22] If the observer had not thrown up his hands, he would probably suspect that the Counties were simply reaching for any way to keep a religious document on the walls of courthouses constitutionally required to embody religious neutrality.[23]

2

In holding the preliminary injunction adequately supported by evidence that the Counties' purpose had not changed at the third stage, we do not decide that the Counties' [874] past actions forever taint any effort on their part to deal with the subject matter. We hold only that purpose needs to be taken seriously under the Establishment Clause and needs to be understood in light of context; an implausible claim that governmental purpose has changed should not carry the day in a court of law any more than in a head with common sense. It is enough to say here that district courts are fully capable of adjusting preliminary relief to take account of genuine changes in constitutionally significant conditions. See Ashcroft v. American Civil Liberties Union, 542 U. S. 656 (2004).

Nor do we have occasion here to hold that a sacred text can never be integrated constitutionally into a governmental display on the subject of law, or American history. We do not forget, and in this litigation have frequently been reminded, that our own courtroom frieze was deliberately designed in the exercise of governmental authority so as to include the figure of Moses holding tablets exhibiting a portion of the Hebrew text of the later, secularly phrased Commandments; in the company of 17 other lawgivers, most of them secular figures, there is no risk that Moses would strike an observer as evidence that the National Government was violating neutrality in religion.[24]

IV

The importance of neutrality as an interpretive guide is no less true now than it was when the Court broached the principle in Everson v. Board of Ed. of Ewing, 330 U. S. 1 (1947), and a word needs to be said about the different view taken in today's dissent. We all agree, of course, on the need for some interpretative help. The First Amendment contains no textual definition of "establishment," and the [875] term is certainly not self-defining. No one contends that the prohibition of establishment stops at a designation of a national (or with Fourteenth Amendment incorporation, Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U. S. 296, 303 (1940), a state) church, but nothing in the text says just how much more it covers. There is no simple answer, for more than one reason.

The prohibition on establishment covers a variety of issues from prayer in widely varying government settings, to financial aid for religious individuals and institutions, to comment on religious questions. In these varied settings, issues of interpreting inexact Establishment Clause language, like difficult interpretative issues generally, arise from the tension of competing values, each constitutionally respectable, but none open to realization to the logical limit.

The First Amendment has not one but two clauses tied to "religion," the second forbidding any prohibition on "the free exercise thereof," and sometimes, the two clauses compete: spending government money on the clergy looks like establishing religion, but if the government cannot pay for military chaplains a good many soldiers and sailors would be kept from the opportunity to exercise their chosen religions. See Cutter v. Wilkinson, 544 U. S. 709, 719 (2005). At other times, limits on governmental action that might make sense as a way to avoid establishment could arguably limit freedom of speech when the speaking is done under government auspices. Rosenberger v. Rector and Visitors of Univ. of Va., 515 U. S. 819 (1995). The dissent, then, is wrong to read cases like Walz v. Tax Comm'n of City of New York, 397 U. S. 664 (1970), as a rejection of neutrality on its own terms, post, at 891-892, for tradeoffs are inevitable, and an elegant interpretative rule to draw the line in all the multifarious situations is not to be had.

Given the variety of interpretative problems, the principle of neutrality has provided a good sense of direction: the government may not favor one religion over another, or religion over irreligion, religious choice being the prerogative of individuals [876] under the Free Exercise Clause. The principle has been helpful simply because it responds to one of the major concerns that prompted adoption of the Religion Clauses. The Framers and the citizens of their time intended not only to protect the integrity of individual conscience in religious matters, Wallace, 472 U. S., at 52-54, and n. 38, but to guard against the civic divisiveness that follows when the government weighs in on one side of religious debate; nothing does a better job of roiling society, a point that needed no explanation to the descendants of English Puritans and Cavaliers (or Massachusetts Puritans and Baptists). E.g., Everson, supra, at 8 ("A large proportion of the early settlers of this country came here from Europe to escape [religious persecution]"). A sense of the past thus points to governmental neutrality as an objective of the Establishment Clause, and a sensible standard for applying it. To be sure, given its generality as a principle, an appeal to neutrality alone cannot possibly lay every issue to rest, or tell us what issues on the margins are substantial enough for constitutional significance, a point that has been clear from the founding era to modern times. E.g., Letter from J. Madison to R. Adams (1832), in 5 The Founders' Constitution 107 (P. Kurland & R. Lerner eds. 1987) ("[In calling for separation] I must admit moreover that it may not be easy, in every possible case, to trace the line of separation between the rights of religion and the Civil authority with such distinctness as to avoid collisions & doubts on unessential points"); Sherbert v. Verner, 374 U. S. 398, 422 (1963) (Harlan, J., dissenting) ("The constitutional obligation of `neutrality' . . . is not so narrow a channel that the slightest deviation from an absolutely straight course leads to condemnation"). But invoking neutrality is a prudent way of keeping sight of something the Framers of the First Amendment thought important.

The dissent, however, puts forward a limitation on the application of the neutrality principle, with citations to historical evidence said to show that the Framers understood the [877] ban on establishment of religion as sufficiently narrow to allow the government to espouse submission to the divine will. The dissent identifies God as the God of monotheism, all of whose three principal strains (Jewish, Christian, and Muslim) acknowledge the religious importance of the Ten Commandments. Post, at 893-894. On the dissent's view, it apparently follows that even rigorous espousal of a common element of this common monotheism is consistent with the establishment ban.

But the dissent's argument for the original understanding is flawed from the outset by its failure to consider the full range of evidence showing what the Framers believed. The dissent is certainly correct in putting forward evidence that some of the Framers thought some endorsement of religion was compatible with the establishment ban; the dissent quotes the first President as stating that "[n]ational morality [cannot] prevail in exclusion of religious principle," for example, post, at 887 (internal quotation marks omitted), and it cites his first Thanksgiving proclamation giving thanks to God, post, at 886-887. Surely if expressions like these from Washington and his contemporaries were all we had to go on, there would be a good case that the neutrality principle has the effect of broadening the ban on establishment beyond the Framers' understanding of it (although there would, of course, still be the question of whether the historical case could overcome some 60 years of precedent taking neutrality as its guiding principle).[25]

[878] But the fact is that we do have more to go on, for there is also evidence supporting the proposition that the Framers intended the Establishment Clause to require governmental neutrality in matters of religion, including neutrality in statements acknowledging religion. The very language of the Establishment Clause represented a significant departure from early drafts that merely prohibited a single national religion, and the final language instead "extended [the] prohibition to state support for `religion' in general." See Lee v. Weisman, 505 U. S. 577, 614-615 (1992) (SOUTER, J., concurring) (tracing development of language).

The historical record, moreover, is complicated beyond the dissent's account by the writings and practices of figures no less influential than Thomas Jefferson and James Madison. Jefferson, for example, refused to issue Thanksgiving Proclamations because he believed that they violated the Constitution. See Letter to S. Miller (Jan. 23, 1808), in 5 The Founders' Constitution, supra, at 98. And Madison, whom the dissent claims as supporting its thesis, post, at 888, criticized Virginia's general assessment tax not just because it required people to donate "three pence" to religion, but because "it is itself a signal of persecution. It degrades from the equal rank of Citizens all those whose opinions in Religion do not bend to those of the Legislative authority." 505 U. S., at 622 (internal quotation marks omitted); see also Letter from J. Madison to E. Livingston (July 10, 1822), in 5 The Founders' Constitution, supra, at 106 ("[R]eligion & Govt. will both exist in greater purity, the less they are mixed together"); Letter from J. Madison to J. Adams (Sept. 1833), in Religion and Politics in the Early Republic 120 (D. Dresibach ed. 1996) (stating that with respect to religion and government the "tendency to a usurpation on one side, or the other, or to a corrupting coalition or alliance between them, will be best guarded against by an entire abstinence of the [879] Government from interference"); Van Orden v. Perry, ante, at 724-725 (Stevens, J., dissenting).[26]

The fair inference is that there was no common understanding about the limits of the establishment prohibition, and the dissent's conclusion that its narrower view was the original understanding, post, at 886-888, stretches the evidence beyond tensile capacity. What the evidence does show is a group of statesmen, like others before and after them, who proposed a guarantee with contours not wholly worked out, leaving the Establishment Clause with edges still to be determined. And none the worse for that. Indeterminate edges are the kind to have in a constitution meant to endure, and to meet "exigencies which, if foreseen at all, must have been seen dimly, and which can be best provided for as they occur." McCulloch v. Maryland, 4 Wheat. 316, 415 (1819).

While the dissent fails to show a consistent original understanding from which to argue that the neutrality principle should be rejected, it does manage to deliver a surprise. As mentioned, the dissent says that the deity the Framers had in mind was the God of monotheism, with the consequence that government may espouse a tenet of traditional monotheism. This is truly a remarkable view. Other Members of the Court have dissented on the ground that the Establishment Clause bars nothing more than governmental preference for one religion over another, e.g., Wallace, 472 U. S., at 98-99 (REHNQUIST, J., dissenting), but at least religion has previously been treated inclusively. Today's dissent, however, [880] apparently means that government should be free to approve the core beliefs of a favored religion over the tenets of others, a view that should trouble anyone who prizes religious liberty. Certainly history cannot justify it; on the contrary, history shows that the religion of concern to the Framers was not that of the monotheistic faiths generally, but Christianity in particular, a fact that no Member of this Court takes as a premise for construing the Religion Clauses. Justice Story probably reflected the thinking of the framing generation when he wrote in his Commentaries that the purpose of the Clause was "not to countenance, much less to advance, Mahometanism, or Judaism, or infidelity, by prostrating Christianity; but to exclude all rivalry among Christian sects." R. Cord, Separation of Church and State: Historical Fact and Current Fiction 13 (1988) (emphasis deleted). The Framers would, therefore, almost certainly object to the dissent's unstated reasoning that because Christianity was a monotheistic "religion," monotheism with Mosaic antecedents should be a touchstone of establishment interpretation.[27] Even on originalist critiques of existing precedent there is, it seems, no escape from interpretative consequences that would surprise the Framers. Thus, it appears to be common ground in the interpretation of a Constitution "intended to endure for ages to come," McCulloch v. [881] Maryland, supra, at 415, that applications unanticipated by the Framers are inevitable.

Historical evidence thus supports no solid argument for changing course (whatever force the argument might have when directed at the existing precedent), whereas public discourse at the present time certainly raises no doubt about the value of the interpretative approach invoked for 60 years now. We are centuries away from the St. Bartholomew's Day massacre and the treatment of heretics in early Massachusetts, but the divisiveness of religion in current public life is inescapable. This is no time to deny the prudence of understanding the Establishment Clause to require the government to stay neutral on religious belief, which is reserved for the conscience of the individual.

V

Given the ample support for the District Court's finding of a predominantly religious purpose behind the Counties' third display, we affirm the Sixth Circuit in upholding the preliminary injunction.

It is so ordered.

JUSTICE O'CONNOR, concurring.

I join in the Court's opinion. The First Amendment expresses our Nation's fundamental commitment to religious liberty by means of two provisions—one protecting the free exercise of religion, the other barring establishment of religion. They were written by the descendents of people who had come to this land precisely so that they could practice their religion freely. Together with the other First Amendment guarantees—of free speech, a free press, and the rights to assemble and petition—the Religion Clauses were designed to safeguard the freedom of conscience and belief that those immigrants had sought. They embody an idea that was once considered radical: Free people are entitled to free [882] and diverse thoughts, which government ought neither to constrain nor to direct.

Reasonable minds can disagree about how to apply the Religion Clauses in a given case. But the goal of the Clauses is clear: to carry out the Founders' plan of preserving religious liberty to the fullest extent possible in a pluralistic society. By enforcing the Clauses, we have kept religion a matter for the individual conscience, not for the prosecutor or bureaucrat. At a time when we see around the world the violent consequences of the assumption of religious authority by government, Americans may count themselves fortunate: Our regard for constitutional boundaries has protected us from similar travails, while allowing private religious exercise to flourish. The well-known statement that "[w]e are a religious people," Zorach v. Clauson, 343 U. S. 306, 313 (1952), has proved true. Americans attend their places of worship more often than do citizens of other developed nations, R. Fowler, A. Hertzke, & L. Olson, Religion and Politics in America 28-29 (2d ed. 1999), and describe religion as playing an especially important role in their lives, Pew Global Attitudes Project, Among Wealthy Nations . . . U. S. Stands Alone in its Embrace of Religion (Dec. 19, 2002). Those who would renegotiate the boundaries between church and state must therefore answer a difficult question: Why would we trade a system that has served us so well for one that has served others so poorly?

Our guiding principle has been James Madison's—that "[t]he Religion ... of every man must be left to the conviction and conscience of every man." Memorial and Remonstrance Against Religious Assessments, 2 Writings of James Madison 183, 184 (G. Hunt ed. 1901) (hereinafter Memorial). To that end, we have held that the guarantees of religious freedom protect citizens from religious incursions by the States as well as by the Federal Government. Everson v. Board of Ed. of Ewing, 330 U. S. 1, 16 (1947); Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U. S. 296 (1940). Government may not coerce a person [883] into worshiping against her will, nor prohibit her from worshiping according to it. It may not prefer one religion over another or promote religion over nonbelief. Everson, supra, at 15-16. It may not entangle itself with religion. Walz v. Tax Comm'n of City of New York, 397 U. S. 664, 674 (1970). And government may not, by "endorsing religion or a religious practice," "mak[e] adherence to religion relevant to a person's standing in the political community." Wallace v. Jaffree, 472 U. S. 38, 69 (1985) (O'CONNOR, J., concurring in judgment).

When we enforce these restrictions, we do so for the same reason that guided the Framers—respect for religion's special role in society. Our Founders conceived of a Republic receptive to voluntary religious expression, and provided for the possibility of judicial intervention when government action threatens or impedes such expression. Voluntary religious belief and expression may be as threatened when government takes the mantle of religion upon itself as when government directly interferes with private religious practices. When the government associates one set of religious beliefs with the state and identifies nonadherents as outsiders, it encroaches upon the individual's decision about whether and how to worship. In the marketplace of ideas, the government has vast resources and special status. Government religious expression therefore risks crowding out private observance and distorting the natural interplay between competing beliefs. Allowing government to be a potential mouthpiece for competing religious ideas risks the sort of division that might easily spill over into suppression of rival beliefs. Tying secular and religious authority together poses risks to both.

Given the history of this particular display of the Ten Commandments, the Court correctly finds an Establishment Clause violation. See ante, at 867-873. The purpose behind the counties' display is relevant because it conveys an unmistakable message of endorsement to the reasonable observer. [884] See Lynch v. Donnelly, 465 U. S. 668, 690 (1984) (O'CONNOR, J., concurring).

It is true that many Americans find the Commandments in accord with their personal beliefs. But we do not count heads before enforcing the First Amendment. See West Virginia Bd. of Ed. v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624, 638 (1943) ("The 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 and to establish them as legal principles to be applied by the courts"). Nor can we accept the theory that Americans who do not accept the Commandments' validity are outside the First Amendment's protections. There is no list of approved and disapproved beliefs appended to the First Amendment—and the Amendment's broad terms ("free exercise," "establishment," "religion") do not admit of such a cramped reading. It is true that the Framers lived at a time when our national religious diversity was neither as robust nor as well recognized as it is now. They may not have foreseen the variety of religions for which this Nation would eventually provide a home. They surely could not have predicted new religions, some of them born in this country. But they did know that line-drawing between religions is an enterprise that, once begun, has no logical stopping point. They worried that "the same authority which can establish Christianity, in exclusion of all other Religions, may establish with the same ease any particular sect of Christians, in exclusion of all other Sects." Memorial 186. The Religion Clauses, as a result, protect adherents of all religions, as well as those who believe in no religion at all.

* * *

We owe our First Amendment to a generation with a profound commitment to religion and a profound commitment to religious liberty—visionaries who held their faith "with enough confidence to believe that what should be rendered [885] to God does not need to be decided and collected by Caesar." Zorach, 343 U. S., at 324-325 (Jackson, J., dissenting). In my opinion, the display at issue was an establishment of religion in violation of our Constitution. For the reasons given above, I join in the Court's opinion.

JUSTICE SCALIA, with whom THE CHIEF JUSTICE and JUSTICE THOMAS join, and with whom JUSTICE KENNEDY joins as to Parts II and III, dissenting.

I would uphold McCreary County and Pulaski County, Kentucky's (hereinafter Counties) displays of the Ten Commandments. I shall discuss, first, why the Court's oft repeated assertion that the government cannot favor religious practice is false; second, why today's opinion extends the scope of that falsehood even beyond prior cases; and third, why even on the basis of the Court's false assumptions the judgment here is wrong.

I

A

On September 11, 2001, I was attending in Rome, Italy, an international conference of judges and lawyers, principally from Europe and the United States. That night and the next morning virtually all of the participants watched, in their hotel rooms, the address to the Nation by the President of the United States concerning the murderous attacks upon the Twin Towers and the Pentagon, in which thousands of Americans had been killed. The address ended, as Presidential addresses often do, with the prayer "God bless America." The next afternoon I was approached by one of the judges from a European country, who, after extending his profound condolences for my country's loss, sadly observed: "How I wish that the Head of State of my country, at a similar time of national tragedy and distress, could conclude his address `God bless ____.' It is of course absolutely forbidden."

[886] That is one model of the relationship between church and state—a model spread across Europe by the armies of Napoleon, and reflected in the Constitution of France, which begins, "France is [a] . . . secular . . . Republic." France Const., Art. 1, in 7 Constitutions of the Countries of the World, p. 1 (G. Flanz ed. 2000). Religion is to be strictly excluded from the public forum. This is not, and never was, the model adopted by America. George Washington added to the form of Presidential oath prescribed by Art. II, § 1, cl. 8, of the Constitution, the concluding words "so help me God." See Blomquist, The Presidential Oath, the American National Interest and a Call for Presiprudence, 73 UMKC L. Rev. 1, 34 (2004). The Supreme Court under John Marshall opened its sessions with the prayer, "God save the United States and this Honorable Court." 1 C. Warren, The Supreme Court in United States History 469 (rev. ed. 1926) (internal quotation marks omitted). The First Congress instituted the practice of beginning its legislative sessions with a prayer. Marsh v. Chambers, 463 U. S. 783, 787-788 (1983). The same week that Congress submitted the Establishment Clause as part of the Bill of Rights for ratification by the States, it enacted legislation providing for paid chaplains in the House and Senate. Id., at 788. The day after the First Amendment was proposed, the same Congress that had proposed it requested the President to proclaim "a day of public thanksgiving and prayer, to be observed, by acknowledging, with grateful hearts, the many signal favours of Almighty God." H. R. Jour., 1st Cong., 1st Sess., 123 (1826 ed.); see also Sen. Jour., 1st Sess., 88 (1820 ed.). President Washington offered the first Thanksgiving Proclamation shortly thereafter, devoting November 26, 1789, on behalf of the American people "`to the service of that great and glorious Being who is the beneficent author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be,'" Van Orden v. Perry, ante, at 687 (plurality opinion) (quoting President Washington's first Thanksgiving Proclamation), thus beginning a tradition of offering gratitude to [887] God that continues today. See Wallace v. Jaffree, 472 U. S. 38, 100-103 (1985) (REHNQUIST, J., dissenting).[28] The same Congress also reenacted the Northwest Territory Ordinance of 1787, 1 Stat. 50, Article III of which provided: "Religion, morality, and knowledge, being necessary to good government and the happiness of mankind, schools and the means of education shall forever be encouraged." Id., at 52, n. (a). And of course the First Amendment itself accords religion (and no other manner of belief) special constitutional protection.

These actions of our First President and Congress and the Marshall Court were not idiosyncratic; they reflected the beliefs of the period. Those who wrote the Constitution believed that morality was essential to the well-being of society and that encouragement of religion was the best way to foster morality. The "fact that the Founding Fathers believed devotedly that there was a God and that the unalienable rights of man were rooted in Him is clearly evidenced in their writings, from the Mayflower Compact to the Constitution itself." School Dist. of Abington Township v. Schempp, 374 U. S. 203, 213 (1963). See Underkuffler-Freund, The Separation of the Religious and the Secular: A Foundational Challenge to First-Amendment Theory, 36 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 837, 896-918 (1995). President Washington opened his Presidency with a prayer, see Inaugural Addresses of the Presidents of the United States 1, 2 (1989), and reminded his fellow citizens at the conclusion of it that "reason and experience both forbid us to expect that National morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle," Farewell Address (1796), reprinted in 35 Writings of George Washington 229 (J. Fitzpatrick ed. 1940). President John Adams wrote to the Massachusetts Militia, "we have no government [888] armed with power capable of contending with human passions unbridled by morality and religion. . . . Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other." Letter (Oct. 11, 1798), reprinted in 9 Works of John Adams 229 (C. Adams ed. 1971). Thomas Jefferson concluded his second inaugural address by inviting his audience to pray:

"I shall need, too, the favor of that Being in whose hands we are, who led our fathers, as Israel of old, from their native land and planted them in a country flowing with all the necessaries and comforts of life; who has covered our infancy with His providence and our riper years with His wisdom and power and to whose goodness I ask you to join in supplications with me that He will so enlighten the minds of your servants, guide their councils, and prosper their measures that whatsoever they do shall result in your good, and shall secure to you the peace, friendship, and approbation of all nations." Inaugural Addresses of the Presidents of the United States, at 18, 22-23.

James Madison, in his first inaugural address, likewise placed his confidence "in the guardianship and guidance of that Almighty Being whose power regulates the destiny of nations, whose blessings have been so conspicuously dispensed to this rising Republic, and to whom we are bound to address our devout gratitude for the past, as well as our fervent supplications and best hopes for the future." Id., at 25, 28.

Nor have the views of our people on this matter significantly changed. Presidents continue to conclude the Presidential oath with the words "so help me God." Our legislatures, state and national, continue to open their sessions with prayer led by official chaplains. The sessions of this Court continue to open with the prayer "God save the United States and this Honorable Court." Invocation of the Almighty by our public figures, at all levels of government, [889] remains commonplace. Our coinage bears the motto, "IN GOD WE TRUST." And our Pledge of Allegiance contains the acknowledgment that we are a Nation "under God." As one of our Supreme Court opinions rightly observed, "We are a religious people whose institutions presuppose a Supreme Being." Zorach v. Clauson, 343 U. S. 306, 313 (1952), repeated with approval in Lynch v. Donnelly, 465 U. S. 668, 675 (1984); Marsh, 463 U. S., at 792; Abington Township, supra, at 213.

With all of this reality (and much more) staring it in the face, how can the Court possibly assert that the "`First Amendment mandates governmental neutrality between . . . religion and nonreligion,'" ante, at 860, and that "[m]anifesting a purpose to favor . . . adherence to religion generally," ibid., is unconstitutional? Who says so? Surely not the words of the Constitution. Surely not the history and traditions that reflect our society's constant understanding of those words. Surely not even the current sense of our society, recently reflected in an Act of Congress adopted unanimously by the Senate and with only five nays in the House of Representatives, see 148 Cong. Rec. 12041 (June 28, 2002); id., at 19518 (Oct. 8, 2002), criticizing a Court of Appeals opinion that had held "under God" in the Pledge of Allegiance unconstitutional. See Act of Nov. 13, 2002, §§ 1(9), 2(a), 3(a), 116 Stat. 2057, 2058, 2060-2061 (reaffirming the Pledge of Allegiance and the National Motto ("In God We Trust") and stating that the Pledge of Allegiance is "clearly consistent with the text and intent of the Constitution"). Nothing stands behind the Court's assertion that governmental affirmation of the society's belief in God is unconstitutional except the Court's own say-so, citing as support only the unsubstantiated say-so of earlier Courts going back no further than the mid-20th century. See ante, at 860, citing Corporation of Presiding Bishop of Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints v. Amos, 483 U. S. 327, 335 (1987), in turn citing Lemon v. Kurtzman, 403 U. S. 602, 612 (1971), in [890] turn citing Board of Ed. of Central School Dist. No. 1 v. Allen, 392 U. S. 236, 243 (1968), in turn quoting Abington Township, 374 U. S., at 222, in turn citing Everson v. Board of Ed. of Ewing, 330 U. S. 1, 15 (1947).[29] And it is, moreover, a thoroughly discredited say-so. It is discredited, to begin with, because a majority of the Justices on the current Court (including at least one Member of today's majority) have, in separate opinions, repudiated the brain-spun "Lemon test" that embodies the supposed principle of neutrality between religion and irreligion. See Lamb's Chapel v. Center Moriches Union Free School Dist., 508 U. S. 384, 398-399 (1993) (SCALIA, J., concurring in judgment) (collecting criticism of Lemon); Van Orden, ante, at 692-693, 697 (THOMAS, J., concurring); Board of Ed. of Kiryas Joel Village School Dist. v. Grumet, 512 U. S. 687, 720 (1994) (O'CONNOR, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment); County of Allegheny v. American Civil Liberties Union, Greater Pittsburgh Chapter, 492 U. S. 573, 655-656, 672-673 (1989) (KENNEDY, J., concurring in judgment in part and dissenting in part); Wallace, 472 U. S., at 112 (REHNQUIST, J., dissenting); see also Committee for Public Ed. and Religious Liberty v. Regan, 444 U. S. 646, 671 (1980) (STEVENS, J., dissenting) (disparaging "the sisyphean task of trying to patch together the `blurred, indistinct, and variable barrier' described in Lemon"). And it is discredited because the Court has not had the courage (or the foolhardiness) to apply the neutrality principle consistently.

What distinguishes the rule of law from the dictatorship of a shifting Supreme Court majority is the absolutely indispensable [891] requirement that judicial opinions be grounded in consistently applied principle. That is what prevents judges from ruling now this way, now that—thumbs up or thumbs down—as their personal preferences dictate. Today's opinion forthrightly (or actually, somewhat less than forthrightly) admits that it does not rest upon consistently applied principle. In a revealing footnote, ante, at 859-860, n. 10, the Court acknowledges that the "Establishment Clause doctrine" it purports to be applying "lacks the comfort of categorical absolutes." What the Court means by this lovely euphemism is that sometimes the Court chooses to decide cases on the principle that government cannot favor religion, and sometimes it does not. The footnote goes on to say that "[i]n special instances we have found good reason" to dispense with the principle, but "[n]o such reasons present themselves here." Ibid. It does not identify all of those "special instances," much less identify the "good reason" for their existence.

I have cataloged elsewhere the variety of circumstances in which this Court—even after its embrace of Lemon's stated prohibition of such behavior—has approved government action "undertaken with the specific intention of improving the position of religion," Edwards v. Aguillard, 482 U. S. 578, 616 (1987) (Scalia, J., dissenting). See id., at 616-618. Suffice it to say here that when the government relieves churches from the obligation to pay property taxes, when it allows students to absent themselves from public school to take religious classes, and when it exempts religious organizations from generally applicable prohibitions of religious discrimination, it surely means to bestow a benefit on religious practice—but we have approved it. See Amos, supra, at 338 (exemption from federal prohibition of religious discrimination by employers); Walz v. Tax Comm'n of City of New York, 397 U. S. 664, 673 (1970) (property tax exemption for church property); Zorach, supra, at 308, 315 (law permitting students to leave public school for the purpose of [892] receiving religious education). Indeed, we have even approved (post-Lemon) government-led prayer to God. In Marsh v. Chambers, the Court upheld the Nebraska State Legislature's practice of paying a chaplain to lead it in prayer at the opening of legislative sessions. The Court explained that "[t]o invoke Divine guidance on a public body entrusted with making the laws is not ... an `establishment' of religion or a step toward establishment; it is simply a tolerable acknowledgment of beliefs widely held among the people of this country." 463 U. S., at 792. (Why, one wonders, is not respect for the Ten Commandments a tolerable acknowledgment of beliefs widely held among the people of this country?)

The only "good reason" for ignoring the neutrality principle set forth in any of these cases was the antiquity of the practice at issue. See id., at 786-792, 794; Walz, supra, at 676-680. That would be a good reason for finding the neutrality principle a mistaken interpretation of the Constitution, but it is hardly a good reason for letting an unconstitutional practice continue. We did not hide behind that reason in Reynolds v. Sims, 377 U. S. 533 (1964), which found unconstitutional bicameral state legislatures of a sort that had existed since the beginning of the Republic. And almost monthly, it seems, the Court has not shrunk from invalidating aspects of criminal procedure and penology of similar vintage. See, e.g., Deck v. Missouri, 544 U. S. 622, 633 (2005) (invalidating practice of shackling defendants absent "special circumstances"); id., at 641-645 (Thomas, J., dissenting); Roper v. Simmons, 543 U. S. 551, 568 (2005) (invalidating practice of executing under-18-year-old offenders); id., at 611, n. 2 (Scalia, J., dissenting). What, then, could be the genuine "good reason" for occasionally ignoring the neutrality principle? I suggest it is the instinct for self-preservation, and the recognition that the Court, which "has no influence over either the sword or the purse," The Federalist No. 78, p. 412 (J. Pole ed. 2005) (A. Hamilton), cannot go [893] too far down the road of an enforced neutrality that contradicts both historical fact and current practice without losing all that sustains it: the willingness of the people to accept its interpretation of the Constitution as definitive, in preference to the contrary interpretation of the democratically elected branches.

Besides appealing to the demonstrably false principle that the government cannot favor religion over irreligion, today's opinion suggests that the posting of the Ten Commandments violates the principle that the government cannot favor one religion over another. See ante, at 868; see also Van Orden, ante, at 717-718 (Stevens, J., dissenting). That is indeed a valid principle where public aid or assistance to religion is concerned, see Zelman v. Simmons-Harris, 536 U. S. 639, 652 (2002), or where the free exercise of religion is at issue, Church of Lukumi Babalu Aye, Inc. v. Hialeah, 508 U. S. 520, 532-533 (1993); id., at 557-558 (Scalia, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment), but it necessarily applies in a more limited sense to public acknowledgment of the Creator. If religion in the public forum had to be entirely nondenominational, there could be no religion in the public forum at all. One cannot say the word "God," or "the Almighty," one cannot offer public supplication or thanksgiving, without contradicting the beliefs of some people that there are many gods, or that God or the gods pay no attention to human affairs. With respect to public acknowledgment of religious belief, it is entirely clear from our Nation's historical practices that the Establishment Clause permits this disregard of polytheists and believers in unconcerned deities, just as it permits the disregard of devout atheists. The Thanksgiving Proclamation issued by George Washington at the instance of the First Congress was scrupulously nondenominational—but it was monotheistic.[30] In Marsh v. [894] Chambers, supra, we said that the fact the particular prayers offered in the Nebraska Legislature were "in the Judeo-Christian tradition," id., at 793, posed no additional problem, because "there is no indication that the prayer opportunity has been exploited to proselytize or advance any one, or to disparage any other, faith or belief," id., at 794-795.

Historical practices thus demonstrate that there is a distance between the acknowledgment of a single Creator and the establishment of a religion. The former is, as Marsh v. Chambers put it, "a tolerable acknowledgment of beliefs widely held among the people of this country." Id., at 792. The three most popular religions in the United States, Christianity, Judaism, and Islam—which combined account for 97.7% of all believers—are monotheistic. See U. S. Dept. of Commerce, Bureau of Census, Statistical Abstract of the United States: 2004-2005, p. 55 (124th ed. 2004) (Table No. 67). All of them, moreover (Islam included), believe that the Ten Commandments were given by God to Moses, and are divine prescriptions for a virtuous life. See 13 Encyclopedia of Religion 9074 (2d ed. 2005); The Qur'an 104 (M. Haleem transl. 2004). Publicly honoring the Ten Commandments is thus indistinguishable, insofar as discriminating against other religions is concerned, from publicly honoring God. Both practices are recognized across such a broad and diverse range of the population—from Christians to Muslims—that they cannot be reasonably understood as a government endorsement of a particular religious viewpoint.[31]

[895] B

A few remarks are necessary in response to the criticism of this dissent by the Court, as well as JUSTICE STEVENS' criticism in the related case of Van Orden v. Perry, ante, p. 707. JUSTICE STEVENS' writing is largely devoted to an attack upon a straw man. "[R]eliance on early religious proclamations and statements made by the Founders is ... problematic," he says, "because those views were not espoused at the Constitutional Convention in 1787 nor enshrined in the Constitution's text." Van Orden, ante, at 724 (dissenting opinion) (footnote omitted). But I have not relied upon (as he and the Court in this case do) mere "proclamations and statements" of the Founders. I have relied primarily upon official acts and official proclamations of the United States or of the component branches of its Government, including the First Congress's beginning of the tradition of legislative prayer to God, its appointment of congressional chaplains, its legislative proposal of a Thanksgiving Proclamation, and its reenactment of the Northwest Territory Ordinance; our first President's issuance of a Thanksgiving Proclamation; and invocation of God at the opening of sessions of the Supreme Court. The only mere "proclamations and statements" of the Founders I have relied upon were statements of Founders who occupied federal office, and spoke in at least a quasi-official capacity—Washington's prayer at the opening of his Presidency and his Farewell Address, President John Adams' letter to the Massachusetts Militia, and Jefferson's and Madison's inaugural addresses. The Court and JUSTICE STEVENS, by contrast, appeal to no official or even quasi-official action in support of their view of the Establishment Clause—only James Madison's Memorial and Remonstrance Against Religious Assessments, written before the Federal Constitution had even been proposed, [896] two letters written by Madison long after he was President, and the quasi-official inaction of Thomas Jefferson in refusing to issue a Thanksgiving Proclamation. See ante, at 878-879; Van Orden, ante, at 724-725 (Stevens, J., dissenting). The Madison Memorial and Remonstrance, dealing as it does with enforced contribution to religion rather than public acknowledgment of God, is irrelevant; one of the letters is utterly ambiguous as to the point at issue here, and should not be read to contradict Madison's statements in his first inaugural address, quoted earlier; even the other letter does not disapprove public acknowledgment of God, unless one posits (what Madison's own actions as President would contradict) that reference to God contradicts "the equality of all religious sects." See Letter from James Madison to Edward Livingston (July 10, 1822), in 5 The Founders' Constitution 105-106 (P. Kurland & R. Lerner eds. 1987). And as to Jefferson: The notoriously self-contradicting Jefferson did not choose to have his nonauthorship of a Thanksgiving Proclamation inscribed on his tombstone. What he did have inscribed was his authorship of the Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom, a governmental act which begins "Whereas, Almighty God hath created the mind free. . . ." Va. Code Ann. § 57-1 (Lexis 2003).

It is no answer for JUSTICE STEVENS to say that the understanding that these official and quasi-official actions reflect was not "enshrined in the Constitution's text." Van Orden, ante, at 724 (dissenting opinion). The Establishment Clause, upon which JUSTICE STEVENS would rely, was enshrined in the Constitution's text, and these official actions show what it meant. There were doubtless some who thought it should have a broader meaning, but those views were plainly rejected. JUSTICE STEVENS says that reliance on these actions is "bound to paint a misleading picture," ibid., but it is hard to see why. What is more probative of the meaning of the Establishment Clause than the actions of [897] the very Congress that proposed it, and of the first President charged with observing it?

JUSTICE STEVENS also appeals to the undoubted fact that some in the founding generation thought that the Religion Clauses of the First Amendment should have a narrower meaning, protecting only the Christian religion or perhaps only Protestantism. See Van Orden, ante, at 725-728. I am at a loss to see how this helps his case, except by providing a cloud of obfuscating smoke. (Since most thought the Clause permitted government invocation of monotheism, and some others thought it permitted government invocation of Christianity, he proposes that it be construed not to permit any government invocation of religion at all.) At any rate, those narrower views of the Establishment Clause were as clearly rejected as the more expansive ones. Washington's First Thanksgiving Proclamation is merely an example. All of the actions of Washington and the First Congress upon which I have relied, virtually all Thanksgiving Proclamations throughout our history,[32] and all the other examples of our Government's favoring religion that I have cited, have invoked God, but not Jesus Christ.[33] Rather than relying [898] upon JUSTICE STEVENS' assurance that "[t]he original understanding of the type of `religion' that qualified for constitutional protection under the Establishment Clause likely did not include ... followers of Judaism and Islam," Van Orden, ante, at 728; see also ante, at 880, I would prefer to take the word of George Washington, who, in his famous Letter to the Hebrew Congregation of Newport, Rhode Island, wrote:

"All possess alike liberty of conscience and immunities of citizenship. It is now no more that toleration is spoken of, as if it was by the indulgence of one class of people, that another enjoyed the exercise of their inherent natural rights." 6 The Papers of George Washington, Presidential Series 285 (D. Twohig ed. 1996).

The letter concluded, by the way, with an invocation of the one God:

"May the father of all mercies scatter light and not darkness in our paths, and make us all in our several vocations useful here, and in his own due time and way everlastingly happy." Ibid.

JUSTICE STEVENS says that if one is serious about following the original understanding of the Establishment Clause, he must repudiate its incorporation into the Fourteenth Amendment, and hold that it does not apply against the States. See Van Orden, ante, at 729-731 (dissenting opinion). This is more smoke. JUSTICE STEVENS did not feel that way last Term, when he joined an opinion insisting upon the original meaning of the Confrontation Clause, but nonetheless applying it against the State of Washington. See Crawford v. Washington, 541 U. S. 36 (2004). The notion that incorporation empties the incorporated provisions of their original meaning has no support in either reason or precedent.

[899] JUSTICE STEVENS argues that original meaning should not be the touchstone anyway, but that we should rather "expoun[d] the meaning of constitutional provisions with one eye toward our Nation's history and the other fixed on its democratic aspirations." Van Orden, ante, at 732 (dissenting opinion). This is not the place to debate the merits of the "living Constitution," though I must observe that Justice Stevens' quotation from McCulloch v. Maryland, 4 Wheat. 316, 407 (1819), refutes rather than supports that approach.[34] Even assuming, however, that the meaning of the Constitution ought to change according to "democratic aspirations," why are those aspirations to be found in Justices' notions of what the Establishment Clause ought to mean, rather than in the democratically adopted dispositions of our current society? As I have observed above, numerous provisions of our laws and numerous continuing practices of our people demonstrate that the government's invocation of God (and hence the government's invocation of the Ten Commandments) is unobjectionable—including a statute enacted by Congress almost unanimously less than three years ago, stating that "under God" in the Pledge of Allegiance is constitutional, see 116 Stat. 2058. To ignore all this is not to give effect to "democratic aspirations" but to frustrate them.

Finally, I must respond to JUSTICE STEVENS' assertion that I would "marginaliz[e] the belief systems of more than 7 million Americans" who adhere to religions that are not monotheistic. Van Orden, ante, at 719, n. 18 (dissenting opinion). Surely that is a gross exaggeration. The beliefs of those citizens are entirely protected by the Free Exercise Clause, and by those aspects of the Establishment Clause that do not relate to government acknowledgment of the Creator. Invocation of God despite their beliefs is permitted not because nonmonotheistic religions cease to be religions recognized by the Religion Clauses of the First [900] Amendment, but because governmental invocation of God is not an establishment. JUSTICE STEVENS fails to recognize that in the context of public acknowledgments of God there are legitimate competing interests: On the one hand, the interest of that minority in not feeling "excluded"; but on the other, the interest of the overwhelming majority of religious believers in being able to give God thanks and supplication as a people, and with respect to our national endeavors. Our national tradition has resolved that conflict in favor of the majority.[35] It is not for this Court to change a disposition that accounts, many Americans think, for the phenomenon remarked upon in a quotation attributed to various authors, including Bismarck, but which I prefer to associate with Charles de Gaulle: "God watches over little children, drunkards, and the United States of America."

II

As bad as the Lemon test is, it is worse for the fact that, since its inception, its seemingly simple mandates have been manipulated to fit whatever result the Court aimed to achieve. Today's opinion is no different. In two respects it modifies Lemon to ratchet up the Court's hostility to religion. First, the Court justifies inquiry into legislative purpose, not as an end itself, but as a means to ascertain the appearance of the government action to an "`objective observer.'" Ante, at 862. Because in the Court's view the true danger to be guarded against is that the objective observer would feel like an "`outside[r]'" or "`not [a] full membe[r] of the political community,'" its inquiry focuses not on [901] the actual purpose of government action, but the "purpose apparent from government action." Ante, at 860. Under this approach, even if a government could show that its actual purpose was not to advance religion, it would presumably violate the Constitution as long as the Court's objective observer would think otherwise. See Capitol Square Review and Advisory Bd. v. Pinette, 515 U. S. 753, 776-777 (1995) (O'CONNOR, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment) (stating that "when the reasonable observer would view a government practice as endorsing religion, . . . it is our duty to hold the practice invalid," even if the law at issue was neutral and the benefit conferred on the religious entity was incidental).

I have remarked before that it is an odd jurisprudence that bases the unconstitutionality of a government practice that does not actually advance religion on the hopes of the government that it would do so. See Edwards, 482 U. S., at 639. But that oddity pales in comparison to the one invited by today's analysis: the legitimacy of a government action with a wholly secular effect would turn on the misperception of an imaginary observer that the government officials behind the action had the intent to advance religion.

Second, the Court replaces Lemon's requirement that the government have "a secular . . . purpose," 403 U. S., at 612 (emphasis added), with the heightened requirement that the secular purpose "predominate" over any purpose to advance religion. Ante, at 864-865. The Court treats this extension as a natural outgrowth of the longstanding requirement that the government's secular purpose not be a sham, but simple logic shows the two to be unrelated. If the government's proffered secular purpose is not genuine, then the government has no secular purpose at all. The new demand that secular purpose predominate contradicts Lemon's more limited requirement, and finds no support in our cases. In all but one of the five cases in which this Court has invalidated a government practice on the basis of its purpose to [902] benefit religion, it has first declared that the statute was motivated entirely by the desire to advance religion. See Santa Fe Independent School Dist. v. Doe, 530 U. S. 290, 308-309 (2000) (dismissing the school district's proffered secular purposes as shams); Wallace, 472 U. S., at 56 (finding "no secular purpose" (emphasis in original)); Stone v. Graham, 449 U. S. 39, 41 (1980) (per curiam) (finding that "Kentucky's statute requiring the posting of the Ten Commandments in public school rooms has no secular legislative purpose" (emphasis added)); Epperson v. Arkansas, 393 U. S. 97, 107-109 (1968). In Edwards, supra, the Court did say that the state action was invalid because its "primary" or "preeminent" purpose was to advance a particular religious belief, 482 U. S., at 590, 593, 594, but that statement was unnecessary to the result, since the Court rejected the State's only proffered secular purpose as a sham. See id., at 589.

I have urged that Lemon's purpose prong be abandoned, because (as I have discussed in Part I) even an exclusive purpose to foster or assist religious practice is not necessarily invalidating. But today's extension makes things even worse. By shifting the focus of Lemon's purpose prong from the search for a genuine, secular motivation to the hunt for a predominantly religious purpose, the Court converts what has in the past been a fairly limited inquiry into a rigorous review of the full record.[36] Those responsible for the [903] adoption of the Religion Clauses would surely regard it as a bitter irony that the religious values they designed those Clauses to protect have now become so distasteful to this Court that if they constitute anything more than a subordinate motive for government action they will invalidate it.

III

Even accepting the Court's Lemon-based premises, the displays at issue here were constitutional.

A

To any person who happened to walk down the hallway of the McCreary or Pulaski County Courthouse during the roughly nine months when the Foundations Displays were exhibited, the displays must have seemed unremarkable—if indeed they were noticed at all. The walls of both court-houses were already lined with historical documents and other assorted portraits; each Foundations Display was exhibited in the same format as these other displays and nothing in the record suggests that either County took steps to give it greater prominence.

Entitled "The Foundations of American Law and Government Display," each display consisted of nine equally sized documents: the original version of the Magna Carta, the Declaration of Independence, the Bill of Rights, the Star Spangled Banner, the Mayflower Compact of 1620, a picture of Lady Justice, the National Motto of the United States ("In God We Trust"), the Preamble to the Kentucky Constitution, and the Ten Commandments. The displays did not emphasize any of the nine documents in any way: The frame holding the Ten Commandments was of the same size and had the [904] same appearance as that which held each of the other documents. See 354 F. 3d 438, 443 (CA6 2003).

Posted with the documents was a plaque, identifying the display, and explaining that it "`contains documents that played a significant role in the foundation of our system of law and government.'" Ibid. The explanation related to the Ten Commandments was third in the list of nine and did not serve to distinguish it from the other documents. It stated:

"`The Ten Commandments have profoundly influenced the formation of Western legal thought and the formation of our country. That influence is clearly seen in the Declaration of Independence, which declared that, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness." The Ten Commandments provide the moral background of the Declaration of Independence and the foundation of our legal tradition.'" Ibid.

B

On its face, the Foundations Displays manifested the purely secular purpose that the Counties asserted before the District Court: "to display documents that played a significant role in the foundation of our system of law and government." Affidavit of Judge Jimmie Green in Support of Defendants' Opposition to Plaintiffs' Motion for Contempt or, in the Alternative, for Supplemental Preliminary Injunction in Civ. Action No. 99-507 (ED Ky.), p. 2, ¶ 4, App. 57. That the displays included the Ten Commandments did not transform their apparent secular purpose into one of impermissible advocacy for Judeo-Christian beliefs. Even an isolated display of the Decalogue conveys, at worst, "an equivocal message, perhaps of respect for Judaism, for religion in general, or for law." Allegheny County, 492 U. S., at 652 (STEVENS, J., [905] concurring in part and dissenting in part). But when the Ten Commandments appear alongside other documents of secular significance in a display devoted to the foundations of American law and government, the context communicates that the Ten Commandments are included, not to teach their binding nature as a religious text, but to show their unique contribution to the development of the legal system. See id., at 652-653. This is doubly true when the display is introduced by a document that informs passersby that it "`contains documents that played a significant role in the foundation of our system of law and government.'" 354 F. 3d, at 443.

The same result follows if the Ten Commandments display is viewed in light of the government practices that this Court has countenanced in the past. The acknowledgment of the contribution that religion in general, and the Ten Commandments in particular, have made to our Nation's legal and governmental heritage is surely no more of a step toward establishment of religion than was the practice of legislative prayer we approved in Marsh v. Chambers, 463 U. S. 783 (1983), and it seems to be on par with the inclusion of a crèche or a menorah in a "Holiday" display that incorporates other secular symbols, see Lynch v. Donnelly, 465 U. S., at 679-680; Allegheny County, supra, at 621 (Blackmun, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part). The parallels between this case and Marsh and Lynch are sufficiently compelling that they ought to decide this case, even under the Court's misguided Establishment Clause jurisprudence.[37]

[906] Acknowledgment of the contribution that religion has made to our Nation's legal and governmental heritage partakes of a centuries-old tradition. Members of this Court have themselves often detailed the degree to which religious belief pervaded the National Government during the founding era. See Lynch, supra, at 674-678; Marsh, supra, at 786-788; Lee v. Weisman, 505 U. S. 577, 633-636 (1992) (SCALIA, J., dissenting); Wallace, 472 U. S., at 100-106 (REHNQUIST, J., dissenting); Engel v. Vitale, 370 U. S. 421, 446-450, and n. 3 (1962) (Stewart, J., dissenting). Display of the Ten Commandments is well within the mainstream of this practice of acknowledgment. Federal, state, and local governments across the Nation have engaged in such display.[38] The Supreme Court Building itself includes depictions of Moses with the Ten Commandments in the Courtroom and on the east pediment of the building, and symbols of the Ten Commandments "adorn the metal gates lining the north and south sides of the Courtroom as well as the doors leading into the Courtroom." Van Orden, ante, at 688 (plurality opinion). Similar depictions of the Decalogue appear [907] on public buildings and monuments throughout our Nation's Capital. Ante, at 689. The frequency of these displays testifies to the popular understanding that the Ten Commandments are a foundation of the rule of law, and a symbol of the role that religion played, and continues to play, in our system of government.

Perhaps in recognition of the centrality of the Ten Commandments as a widely recognized symbol of religion in public life, the Court is at pains to dispel the impression that its decision will require governments across the country to sandblast the Ten Commandments from the public square. See ante, at 874. The constitutional problem, the Court says, is with the Counties' purpose in erecting the Foundations Displays, not the displays themselves. The Court adds in a footnote: "One consequence of taking account of the purpose underlying past actions is that the same government action may be constitutional if taken in the first instance and unconstitutional if it has a sectarian heritage." Ante, at 866, n. 14.

This inconsistency may be explicable in theory, but I suspect that the "objective observer" with whom the Court is so concerned will recognize its absurdity in practice. By virtue of details familiar only to the parties to litigation and their lawyers, McCreary and Pulaski Counties, Kentucky, and Rutherford County, Tennessee, have been ordered to remove the same display that appears in courthouses from Mercer County, Kentucky, to Elkhart County, Indiana. Compare American Civil Liberties Union of Tenn. v. Rutherford County, 209 F. Supp. 2d 799, 808-809 (MD Tenn. 2002) (holding Foundations Display to be unconstitutional based on prior actions of county commission), with Books v. Elkhart County, 401 F. 3d 857, 869 (CA7 2005) (sustaining Foundations Display as "secular . . . in its purpose and effect"); American Civil Liberties Union of Ky. v. Mercer County, 219 F. Supp. 2d 777, 787-789 (ED Ky. 2002) (rejecting Establishment Clause challenge to an identical Foundations Display and distinguishing McCreary County on the ground [908] that the County's purpose had not been "tainted with any prior history"). Displays erected in silence (and under the direction of good legal advice) are permissible, while those hung after discussion and debate are deemed unconstitutional. Reduction of the Establishment Clause to such minutiae trivializes the Clause's protection against religious establishment; indeed, it may inflame religious passions by making the passing comments of every government official the subject of endless litigation.

C

In any event, the Court's conclusion that the Counties exhibited the Foundations Displays with the purpose of promoting religion is doubtful. In the Court's view, the impermissible motive was apparent from the initial displays of the Ten Commandments all by themselves: When that occurs, the Court says, "a religious object is unmistakable." Ante, at 869. Surely that cannot be. If, as discussed above, the Commandments have a proper place in our civic history, even placing them by themselves can be civically motivated—especially when they are placed, not in a school (as they were in the Stone case upon which the Court places such reliance), but in a courthouse. Cf. Van Orden, ante, at 701 (BREYER, J., concurring in judgment) ("The circumstances surrounding the display's placement on the capitol grounds and its physical setting suggest that the State itself intended the . . . nonreligious aspects of the tablets' message to predominate"). And the fact that at the posting of the exhibit a clergyman was present is unremarkable (clergymen taking particular pride in the role of the Ten Commandments in our civic history); and even more unremarkable the fact that the clergyman "testified to the certainty of the existence of God," ante, at 869.

The Court has in the past prohibited government actions that "proselytize or advance any one, or . . . disparage any other, faith or belief," Marsh, 463 U. S., at 794-795, or that apply some level of coercion (though I and others have disagreed [909] about the form that coercion must take), see, e.g., Lee v. Weisman, 505 U. S., at 592 (prayer at high-school graduation invalid because of "subtle coercive pressure"); id., at 642 (SCALIA, J., dissenting). The passive display of the Ten Commandments, even standing alone, does not begin to do either. What JUSTICE KENNEDY said of the crèche in Allegheny County is equally true of the Counties' original Ten Commandments displays:

"No one was compelled to observe or participate in any religious ceremony or activity. [T]he count[ies] [did not] contribut[e] significant amounts of tax money to serve the cause of one religious faith. [The Ten Commandments] are purely passive symbols of [the religious foundation for many of our laws and governmental institutions]. Passersby who disagree with the message conveyed by th[e] displays are free to ignore them, or even to turn their backs, just as they are free to do when they disagree with any other form of government speech." 492 U. S., at 664 (opinion concurring in judgment in part and dissenting in part).

Nor is it the case that a solo display of the Ten Commandments advances any one faith. They are assuredly a religious symbol, but they are not so closely associated with a single religious belief that their display can reasonably be understood as preferring one religious sect over another. The Ten Commandments are recognized by Judaism, Christianity, and Islam alike as divinely given. See 13 Encyclopedia of Religion 9074 (2d ed. 2005).[39]

[910] The Court also points to the Counties' second displays, which featured a number of statements in historical documents reflecting a religious influence, and the resolutions that accompanied their erection, as evidence of an impermissible religious purpose.[40] In the Court's view, "[t]he [second] display's unstinting focus . . . on religious passages, show[s] that the Counties were posting the Commandments precisely because of their sectarian content." Ante, at 870. No, all it necessarily shows is that the exhibit was meant to focus upon the historic role of religious belief in our national life— which is entirely permissible. And the same can be said of the resolution. To forbid any government focus upon this aspect of our history is to display what Justice Goldberg called "untutored devotion to the concept of neutrality," Abington Township, 374 U. S., at 306 (concurring opinion), that would commit the Court (and the Nation) to a revisionist agenda of secularization.

[911] Turning at last to the displays actually at issue in this case, the Court faults the Counties for not repealing the resolution expressing what the Court believes to be an impermissible intent. Under these circumstances, the Court says, "[n]o reasonable observer could swallow the claim that the Counties had cast off the objective so unmistakable in the earlier displays." Ante, at 872. Even were I to accept all that the Court has said before, I would not agree with that assessment. To begin with, of course, it is unlikely that a reasonable observer would even have been aware of the resolutions, so there would be nothing to "cast off." The Court implies that the Counties may have been able to remedy the "taint" from the old resolutions by enacting a new one. See ante, at 871-872. But that action would have been wholly unnecessary in light of the explanation that the Counties included with the displays themselves: A plaque next to the documents informed all who passed by that each display "contains documents that played a significant role in the foundation of our system of law and government." Additionally, there was no reason for the Counties to repeal or repudiate the resolutions adopted with the hanging of the second displays, since they related only to the second displays. After complying with the District Court's order to remove the second displays "immediately," and erecting new displays that in content and by express assertion reflected a different purpose from that identified in the resolutions, the Counties had no reason to believe that their previous resolutions would be deemed to be the basis for their actions.[41] After the Counties [912] discovered that the sentiments expressed in the resolutions could be attributed to their most recent displays (in oral argument before this Court), they repudiated them immediately.

In sum: The first displays did not necessarily evidence an intent to further religious practice; nor did the second displays, or the resolutions authorizing them; and there is in any event no basis for attributing whatever intent motivated the first and second displays to the third. Given the presumption of regularity that always accompanies our review of official action, see n. 9, supra, the Court has identified no evidence of a purpose to advance religion in a way that is inconsistent with our cases. The Court may well be correct in identifying the third displays as the fruit of a desire to display the Ten Commandments, ante, at 872, but neither our cases nor our history support its assertion that such a desire renders the fruit poisonous.

* * *

For the foregoing reasons, I would reverse the judgment of the Court of Appeals.

-----------

[1] Briefs of amici curiae urging reversal were filed for the State of Alabama et al. by Troy King, Attorney General of Alabama, Kevin C. Newsom, Solicitor General, and Charles B. Campbell, Assistant Attorney General, and by the Attorneys General for their respective States as follows: Charles J. Crist, Jr., of Florida, Lawrence G. Wasden of Idaho, Steve Carter of Indiana, Phill Kline of Kansas, Gregory D. Stumbo of Kentucky, Charles C. Foti, Jr., of Louisiana, Jim Hood of Mississippi, Jim Petro of Ohio, Gerald J. Pappert of Pennsylvania, Henry McMaster of South Carolina, Greg Abbott of Texas, Mark L. Shurtleff of Utah, Jerry W. Kilgore of Virginia, and Patrick J. Crank of Wyoming; for the State of Minnesota et al. by Mike Hatch, Attorney General of Minnesota, and John S. Garry, Assistant Attorney General, and by the Attorneys General for their respective States as follows: Lisa Madigan of Illinois, Thomas J. Miller of Iowa, Jeremiah W. (Jay) Nixon of Missouri, Patricia A. Madrid of New Mexico, W. A. Drew Edmondson of Oklahoma, and Peggy A. Lautenschlager of Wisconsin; for the American Center for Law and Justice by Jay Alan Sekulow, Stuart J. Roth, Francis J. Manion, and Walter M. Weber; for the American Legion by Kelly Shackelford and Philip B. Onderdonk, Jr.; for the American Liberties Institute et al. by Frederick H. Nelson; for the Ashbrook Center for Public Affairs et al. by Steven C. Seeger; for the Becket Fund for Religious Liberty by Anthony R. Picarello, Jr.; for the Conservative Legal Defense and Education Fund et al. by Herbert W. Titus and William J. Olson; for the Eagle Forum Education & Legal Defense Fund by Douglas G. Smith and Phyllis Schlafly; for Faith and Action et al. by Bernard P. Reese, Jr.; for the Family Research Council, Inc., et al. by Robert P. George; for the Foundation for Moral Law, Inc., by Benjamin D. DuPré and Gregory M. Jones; for Judicial Watch, Inc., by Paul J. Orfanedes and Meredith L. Cavallo; for the Pacific Justice Institute by Peter D. Lepiscopo; for the Rutherford Institute by John W. Whitehead; for the Thomas More Law Center by Edward L. White III; and for Wallbuilders, Inc., by Barry C. Hodge.

Briefs of amici curiae urging affirmance were filed for American Atheists by Robert J. Bruno; for the American Humanist Association et al. by Elizabeth L. Hileman; for Americans United for Separation of Church and State et al. by William M. Hohengarten, Ian Heath Gershengorn, Ayesha Khan, Richard B. Katskee, and Judith E. Schaeffer; for the Anti-Defamation League et al. by Jeffrey R. Babbin, Aaron S. Bayer, Kenneth D. Heath, Frederick M. Lawrence, Daniel S. Alter, and Steven M. Freeman; for the Atheist Law Center et al. by Pamela L. Sumners and Larry Darby; for the Baptist Joint Committee et al. by Douglas Laycock, Jeffrey P. Sinensky, K. Hollyn Hollman, and Marc D. Stern; for the Council for Secular Humanism et al. by Ronald A. Lindsay; for the Freedom from Religion Foundation by James A. Friedman and James D. Peterson; and for Legal Historians and Law Scholars by Steven K. Green.

Julie Underwood filed a brief of amici curiae for the National School Boards Association et al.

[2] We do not consider here a display of the Ten Commandments in school-rooms in Harlan County, Kentucky, that was litigated in consolidated proceedings in the District Court and Court of Appeals. That display is the subject of a separate petition to this Court.

[3] This text comes from a record exhibit showing the Pulaski County Commandments that were part of the County's first and second displays. The District Court found that the displays in each County were functionally identical. 96 F. Supp. 2d 679, 682, n. 2 (ED Ky. 2000); 96 F. Supp. 2d 691, 693, n. 2 (ED Ky. 2000).

[4] The First Amendment provides that "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof . . . ." This prohibition of establishment applies to "the States and their political subdivisions" through the Fourteenth Amendment. Santa Fe Independent School Dist. v. Doe, 530 U. S. 290, 301 (2000).

[5] The District Court noted that there was some confusion as to whether the Ten Commandments hung independently in the second display, or were incorporated into the copy of the page from the Congressional Record declaring 1983 "the Year of the Bible." 96 F. Supp. 2d, at 684, and n. 4; 96 F. Supp. 2d, at 695-696, and n. 4. The exhibits in the record depict the Commandments hanging as a separate item, Def. Exh. 9, and that is more consistent with the Counties' description of the second display in this Court. "[After erecting the first display] Petitioners posted additional donated documents.... This display consisted of the Ten Commandments along with other historical documents." Brief for Petitioners 2. Like the District Court, we find our analysis applies equally to either format.

[6] The court also found that the display had the effect of endorsing religion: "Removed from their historical context and placed with other documents with which the only common link is religion, the documents have the undeniable effect of endorsing religion." 96 F. Supp. 2d, at 688; 96 F. Supp. 2d, at 699-700.

[7] Before the District Court issued the modified injunction, the Counties removed the label of "King James Version" and the citation to Exodus. 145 F. Supp. 2d 845, 847 (ED Ky. 2001).

[8] The court also found that the effect of the third display was to endorse religion because the "reasonable observer will see one religious code placed alongside eight political or patriotic documents, and will understand that the counties promote that one religious code as being on a par with our nation's most cherished secular symbols and documents" and because the "reasonable observer [would know] something of the controversy surrounding these displays, which has focused on only one of the nine framed documents: the Ten Commandments." Id., at 851, 852.

[9] The Sixth Circuit did not decide whether the display had the impermissible effect of advancing religion because one judge, having found the display motivated by a religious purpose, did not reach that issue. 354 F. 3d, at 462 (Gibbons, J., concurring). The other judge in the majority concluded that a reasonable observer would find that the display had the effect of endorsing religion given the lack of analytical connection between the Commandments and the other documents in the display, the court-house location of the display, and the history of the displays. Id., at 458-459. The dissent found no effect of endorsement because it concluded that a reasonable observer would only see that the County had merely acknowledged the foundational role of the Ten Commandments rather than endorsed their religious content. Id., at 479-480.

[10] Stone v. Graham, 449 U. S. 39, 41 (1980) (per curiam); Wallace v. Jaffree, 472 U. S. 38, 56-61 (1985); Edwards v. Aguillard, 482 U. S. 578, 586-593 (1987); Santa Fe, 530 U. S., at 308-309.

[11] At least since Everson v. Board of Ed. of Ewing, 330 U. S. 1 (1947), it has been clear that Establishment Clause doctrine lacks the comfort of categorical absolutes. In special instances we have found good reason to hold governmental action legitimate even where its manifest purpose was presumably religious. See, e.g., Marsh v. Chambers, 463 U. S. 783 (1983) (upholding legislative prayer despite its religious nature). No such reasons present themselves here.

[12] Moreover, JUSTICE O'CONNOR provided the fifth vote for the Lynch majority and her concurrence emphasized the point made implicitly in the majority opinion that a secular purpose must be serious to be sufficient. 465 U. S., at 691 (The purpose inquiry "is not satisfied ... by the mere existence of some secular purpose, however dominated by religious purposes").

[13] Stone found the sacred character of the Ten Commandments preeminent despite an avowed secular purpose to show their "adoption as the fundamental legal code of Western Civilization and the Common Law ...." 449 U. S., at 39-40, n. 1 (internal quotation marks omitted). And the Abington Court was unconvinced that music education or the teaching of literature were actual secular objects behind laws requiring public school teachers to lead recitations from the Lord's Prayer and readings from the Bible. 374 U. S., at 273.

[14] The dissent nonetheless maintains that the purpose test is satisfied so long as any secular purpose for the government action is apparent. Post, at 901-902 (opinion of SCALIA, J.). Leaving aside the fact that this position is inconsistent with the language of the cases just discussed, it would leave the purpose test with no real bite, given the ease of finding some secular purpose for almost any government action. While heightened deference to legislatures is appropriate for the review of economic legislation, an approach that credits any valid purpose, no matter how trivial, has not been the way the Court has approached government action that implicates establishment.

[15] One consequence of taking account of the purpose underlying past actions is that the same government action may be constitutional if taken in the first instance and unconstitutional if it has a sectarian heritage. This presents no incongruity, however, because purpose matters. Just as Holmes's dog could tell the difference between being kicked and being stumbled over, it will matter to objective observers whether posting the Commandments follows on the heels of displays motivated by sectarianism, or whether it lacks a history demonstrating that purpose. The dissent, apparently not giving the reasonable observer as much credit as Holmes's dog, contends that in practice it will be "absur[d]" to rely upon differences in purpose in assessing government action. Post, at 907. As an initial matter, it will be the rare case in which one of two identical displays violates the purpose prong. In general, like displays tend to show like objectives and will be treated accordingly. But where one display has a history manifesting sectarian purpose that the other lacks, it is appropriate that they be treated differently, for the one display will be properly understood as demonstrating a preference for one group of religious believers as against another. See supra, at 860-861. While posting the Commandments may not have the effect of causing greater adherence to them, an ostensible indication of a purpose to promote a particular faith certainly will have the effect of causing viewers to understand the government is taking sides.

[16] We note that the only factor in the preliminary injunction analysis that is at issue here is the likelihood of the ACLU's success on the merits.

[17] Although the Counties point out that the courthouses contained other displays besides the Ten Commandments, there is no suggestion that the Commandments display was integrated to form a secular display.

[18] In Stone, the Commandments were accompanied by a small disclaimer: "The secular application of the Ten Commandments is clearly seen in its adoption as the fundamental legal code of Western Civilization and the Common Law of the United States." 449 U. S., at 39-40, n. 1 (internal quotation marks omitted).

[19] The Counties' other purposes were:

"to erect a display containing the Ten Commandments that is constitutional;... to demonstrate that the Ten Commandments were part of the foundation of American Law and Government; . . . [to include the Ten Commandments] as part of the display for their significance in providing `the moral background of the Declaration of Independence and the foundation of our legal tradition.'" 145 F. Supp. 2d, at 848 (some internal quotation marks omitted).

[20] Following argument in this case, in which the resolutions were discussed, the McCreary and Pulaski County Boards did repeal the resolutions, acts of obviously minimal significance in the evolution of the evidence.

[21] The Counties argue that the objective observer would not continue to believe that the resolution was in effect after the third display went up because the resolution authorized only the second display. But the resolution on its face is not limited to any particular display. On the contrary, it encourages the creation of a display with the Ten Commandments that also includes such documents as "the National anthem . . . the National Motto . . . the preamble to the Kentucky Constitution[,] the Declaration of Independence [and] the Mayflower Compact . . . without censorship because of any Christian or religious references." Def. Exh. 1, at 1. The third display contains all of these documents, suggesting that it fell within the resolutions as well. The record does not indicate whether the resolutions were posted with the third display.

[22] The Counties have now backed away from their broad assertion that the Commandments provide "the" moral background of the Declaration of Independence, and now merely claim that many of the Commandments "regarding murder, property, theft, coveting, marriage, rest from labor and honoring parents are compatible with the rights to life, liberty and happiness." Brief for Petitioners 10, n. 7.

[23] The Counties grasp at McGowan v. Maryland, 366 U. S. 420 (1961), but it bears little resemblance to this case. As noted supra, at 861, McGowan held that religious purposes behind centuries-old predecessors of Maryland's Sunday laws were not dispositive of the purposes of modern Sunday laws, where the legislature had removed much of the religious reference in the laws and stated secular and pragmatic justifications for them. 366 U. S., at 446-452. But a conclusion that centuries-old purposes may no longer be operative says nothing about the relevance of recent evidence of purpose, and this case is far more like Santa Fe, with its evolution of a school football game prayer policy over the course of a single lawsuit. Like that case, "[t]his [one] comes to us as the latest step in developing litigation brought as a challenge to institutional practices that unquestionably violated the Establishment Clause." 530 U. S., at 315 (describing the evolution of the school district's football prayer policy). Thus, as in Santa Fe, it makes sense to examine the Counties' latest action "in light of [their] history of" unconstitutional practices. Id., at 309.

[24] The dissent notes that another depiction of Moses and the Commandments adorns this Court's east pediment. Post, at 906. But as with the courtroom frieze, Moses is found in the company of other figures, not only great but secular.

[25] The dissent also maintains that our precedents show that a solo display of the Commandments is a mere acknowledgment of religion "on par with the inclusion of a crèche or a menorah" in a holiday display, or an official's speech or prayer, post, at 905. Whether or not our views would differ about the significance of those practices if we were considering them as original matters, they manifest no objective of subjecting individual lives to religious influence comparable to the apparent and openly acknowledged purpose behind posting the Commandments. Crèches placed with holiday symbols and prayers by legislators do not insistently call for religious action on the part of citizens; the history of posting the Commandments expressed a purpose to urge citizens to act in prescribed ways as a personal response to divine authority.

[26] The dissent cites material suggesting that separationists like Jefferson and Madison were not absolutely consistent in abstaining from official religious acknowledgment. Post, at 888. But, a record of inconsistent historical practice is too weak a lever to upset decades of precedent adhering to the neutrality principle. And it is worth noting that Jefferson thought his actions were consistent with nonendorsement of religion and Madison regretted any backsliding he may have done. Lee v. Weisman, 505 U. S. 577, 622-625 (1992) (SOUTER, J., concurring). "Homer nodded." Id., at 624, n. 5 (corrected in erratum at 535 U. S. II).

[27] There might, indeed, even have been some reservations about monotheism as the paradigm example. It is worth noting that the canonical biography of George Washington, the dissent's primary exemplar of the monotheistic tradition, calls him a deist. J. Flexner, George Washington: Anguish and Farewell (1793-1799), p. 490 (1972) ("Washington's religious belief was that of the enlightenment: deism"). It would have been odd for the First Congress to propose an Amendment with Religion Clauses that took no account of the President's religion. As with other historical matters pertinent here, however, there are conflicting conclusions. R. Brookhiser, Founding Father: Rediscovering George Washington 146 (1996) ("Washington's God was no watchmaker"). History writ small does not give clear and certain answers to questions about the limits of "religion" or "establishment."

[28] See, e.g., President's Thanksgiving Day 2004 Proclamation (Nov. 23, 2004), available at http://www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2004/11/ XXXXXXXX-X.html (all Internet materials as visited June 24, 2005, and available in Clerk of Court's case file).

[29] The fountainhead of this jurisprudence, Everson v. Board of Ed. of Ewing, based its dictum that "[n]either a state nor the Federal Government . . . can pass laws which . . . aid all religions," 330 U. S., at 15, on a review of historical evidence that focused on the debate leading up to the passage of the Virginia Bill for Religious Liberty, see id., at 11-13. A prominent commentator of the time remarked (after a thorough review of the evidence himself) that it appeared the Court had been "sold . . . a bill of goods." Corwin, The Supreme Court as National School Board, 14 Law & Contemp. Prob. 3, 16 (1949).

[30] The Court thinks it "surpris[ing]" and "truly ... remarkable" to believe that "the deity the Framers had in mind" (presumably in all the instances of invocation of the deity I have cited) "was the God of monotheism." Ante, at 879. This reaction would be more comprehensible if the Court could suggest what other God (in the singular, and with a capital G) there is, other than "the God of monotheism." This is not necessarily the Christian God (though if it were, one would expect Christ regularly to be invoked, which He is not); but it is inescapably the God of monotheism.

[31] This is not to say that a display of the Ten Commandments could never constitute an impermissible endorsement of a particular religious view. The Establishment Clause would prohibit, for example, governmental endorsement of a particular version of the Decalogue as authoritative. Here the display of the Ten Commandments alongside eight secular documents, and the plaque's explanation for their inclusion, make clear that they were not posted to take sides in a theological dispute.

[32] The two exceptions are the March 23, 1798, proclamation of John Adams, which asks God "freely to remit all our offenses" "through the Redeemer of the World," http://www.pilgrimhall.org/ThanxProc1789.htm, and the November 17, 1972, proclamation of Richard Nixon, which stated, "From Moses at the Red Sea to Jesus preparing to feed the multitudes, the Scriptures summon us to words and deeds of gratitude, even before divine blessings are fully perceived," Presidential Proclamation No. 4170, 37 Fed. Reg. 24647 (1972).

[33] JUSTICE STEVENS finds that Presidential inaugural and farewell speeches (which are the only speeches upon which I have relied) do not violate the Establishment Clause only because everyone knows that they express the personal religious views of the speaker, and not government policy. See Van Orden v. Perry, ante, at 723 (dissenting opinion). This is a peculiar stance for one who has voted that a student-led invocation at a high school football game and a rabbi-led invocation at a high school graduation did constitute the sort of governmental endorsement of religion that the Establishment Clause forbids. See Santa Fe Independent School Dist. v. Doe, 530 U. S. 290 (2000); Lee v. Weisman, 505 U. S. 577 (1992).

[34] See Scalia, Originalism: The Lesser Evil, 57 Cincinnati L. Rev. 849, 852-853 (1989).

[35] Nothing so clearly demonstrates the utter inconsistency of our Establishment Clause jurisprudence as JUSTICE O'CONNOR'S stirring concurrence in the present case. "[W]e do not," she says, "count heads before enforcing the First Amendment." Ante, at 884. But JUSTICE O'CONNOR joined the opinion of the Court in Marsh v. Chambers, 463 U. S. 783 (1983), which held legislative prayer to be "a tolerable acknowledgment of beliefs widely held among the people of this country." Id., at 792.

[36] The Court's reflexive skepticism of the government's asserted secular purposes is flatly inconsistent with the deferential approach taken by our previous Establishment Clause cases. We have repeated many times that, where a court undertakes the sensitive task of reviewing a government's asserted purpose, it must take the government at its word absent compelling evidence to the contrary. See, e.g., Edwards v. Aguillard, 482 U. S. 578, 586 (1987) (stating that "the Court is . . . deferential to a State's articulation of a secular purpose," unless that purpose is insincere or a sham); Mueller v. Allen, 463 U. S. 388, 394-395 (1983) (ascribing the Court's disinclination to invalidate government practices under Lemon's purpose prong to its "reluctance to attribute unconstitutional motives to the States, particularly when a plausible secular purpose for the State's program may be discerned from the face of the statute"); see also Wallace v. Jaffree, 472 U. S. 38, 74 (1985) (O'CONNOR, J., concurring in judgment) ("[T]he inquiry into the purpose of the legislature . . . should be deferential and limited").

[37] The Court's only response is that the inclusion of the Ten Commandments in a display about the foundations of American law reflects "a purpose to [call on] citizens to act in prescribed ways as a personal response to divine authority," in a way that legislative prayer and the inclusion of a crèche in a holiday display do not. See ante, at 878, n. 24. That might be true if the Commandments were displayed by themselves in a church, or even in someone's home. It seems to me patently untrue— given the Decalogue's "undeniable historical meaning" as a symbol of the religious foundations of law, see Van Orden, ante, at 690 (plurality opinion)—when they are posted in a courthouse display of historical documents. The observer would no more think himself "called upon to act" in conformance with the Commandments than he would think himself called upon to think and act like William Bradford because of the courthouse posting of the Mayflower Compact—especially when he is told that the exhibit consists of documents that contributed to American law and government.

[38] The significant number of cases involving Ten Commandments displays in the last two years suggests the breadth of their appearance. See, e.g., Books v. Elkhart County, 401 F. 3d 857, 858-859 (CA7 2005) (Ten Commandments included in a display identical to the Foundations Display); Mercier v. Fraternal Order of Eagles, 395 F. 3d 693, 696 (CA7 2005) (Ten Commandments monument in city park since 1965); Modrovich v. Allegheny County, 385 F. 3d 397, 399 (CA3 2004) (Ten Commandments plaque, donated in 1918, on wall of Allegheny County Courthouse); Freethought Soc. of Greater Philadelphia v. Chester County, 334 F. 3d 247, 249 (CA3 2003) (Ten Commandments plaque, donated in 1920, on wall of Chester County Courthouse); King v. Richmond County, 331 F. 3d 1271, 1273-1274 (CA11 2003) (Ten Commandments depicted in county seal since 1872).

[39] Because there are interpretational differences between faiths and within faiths concerning the meaning and perhaps even the text of the Commandments, JUSTICE STEVENS maintains that any display of the text of the Ten Commandments is impermissible because it "invariably places the [government] at the center of a serious sectarian dispute." Van Orden, ante, at 718-719 (dissenting opinion). I think not. The sectarian dispute regarding text, if serious, is not widely known. I doubt that most religious adherents are even aware that there are competing versions with doctrinal consequences (I certainly was not). In any event, the context of the display here could not conceivably cause the viewer to believe that the government was taking sides in a doctrinal controversy.

[40] Posted less than a month after respondents filed suit, the second displays included an excerpt from the Declaration of Independence, the Preamble to the Kentucky Constitution, a page from the Congressional Record declaring 1983 to be the Year of the Bible and the proclamation of President Reagan stating the same, a proclamation of President Lincoln designating April 30, 1863, as a National Day of Prayer and Humiliation, an excerpt from Lincoln's "Reply to Loyal Colored People of Baltimore upon Presentation of a Bible" stating that "[t]he Bible is the best gift God has ever given to man," and the Mayflower Compact. 96 F. Supp. 2d 679, 684 (ED Ky. 2000) (internal quotation marks omitted). The Counties erected the displays in accordance with a resolution passed by their legislative bodies, authorizing the County-Judge Executives "to read or post the Ten Commandments as the precedent legal code upon which the civil and criminal codes of the Commonwealth of Kentucky are founded," and to display alongside the Ten Commandments copies of the documents listed above "without censorship because of any Christian or religious references in these writings, documents, and historical records." Def. Exh. 1 in Memorandum in Support of Defendants' Motion to Dismiss in Civ. Action No. 99-507, p. 1 (ED Ky.) (hereinafter Def. Exh. 1).

[41] Contrary to the Court's suggestion, see ante, at 872, n. 20, it is clear that the resolutions were closely tied to the second displays, but not to the third. Each of the documents included in the second displays was authorized by the resolutions, and those displays, consistent with the resolutions' direction to "post the Ten Commandments as the precedent legal code upon which the civil and criminal codes of the Commonwealth of Kentucky are founded," Def. Exh. 1, supra,n. 13, at 1, consisted of a large copy of the Ten Commandments alongside much smaller framed copies of other historical, religious documents. The third displays, in contrast, included documents not mentioned in the resolutions (the Magna Carta and a picture of Lady Justice) and did not include documents authorized by the resolutions (correspondence and proclamations of Abraham Lincoln and the Resolution of Congress declaring 1983 to be the Year of the Bible).

The resolutions also provided that they were to be posted beside the displays that they authorized. Id., at 9. Yet respondents have never suggested the resolutions were posted next to the third displays, and the record before the Court indicates that they were not. The photos included in the Appendix show that the third displays included 10 frames— the nine historical documents and the prefatory statement explaining the relevance of each of the documents. See App. to Pet. for Cert. 177a (McCreary County), 178a (Pulaski County).

1.2.3 Van Orden v. Perry 1.2.3 Van Orden v. Perry

545 U.S. 677 (2005)

VAN ORDEN
v.
PERRY, IN HIS OFFICIAL CAPACITY AS GOVERNOR OF TEXAS AND CHAIRMAN, STATE PRESERVATION BOARD, ET AL.

No. 03-1500.
Supreme Court of United States.
Argued March 2, 2005.
Decided June 27, 2005.

[679] Erwin Chemerinsky argued the cause for petitioner. With him on the briefs were Mark Rosenbaum and Paul Hoffman.

Greg Abbott, Attorney General of Texas, argued the cause for respondents. With him on the brief were Barry R. McBee, First Assistant Attorney General, Edward D. Burbach and Don R. Willett, Deputy Attorneys General, R. Ted Cruz, Solicitor General, Joel L. Thollander and Amy Warr, Assistant Solicitors General, and Paul Michael Winget-Hernandez, Assistant Attorney General.

[680] Acting Solicitor General Clement argued the cause for the United States as amicus curiae in support of respondents. With him on the brief were Assistant Attorney General Keisler, Deputy Assistant Attorney General Katsas, Patricia A. Millett, Robert M. Loeb, and Lowell V. Sturgill, Jr.[1]

[681] CHIEF JUSTICE REHNQUIST announced the judgment of the Court and delivered an opinion, in which JUSTICE SCALIA, JUSTICE KENNEDY, and JUSTICE THOMAS join.

The question here is whether the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment allows the display of a monument inscribed with the Ten Commandments on the Texas State Capitol grounds. We hold that it does.

The 22 acres surrounding the Texas State Capitol contain 17 monuments and 21 historical markers commemorating the "people, ideals, and events that compose Texan identity." Tex. H. Con. Res. 38, 77th Leg., Reg. Sess. (2001).[2] The monolith challenged here stands 6-feet high and 3-feet wide. It is located to the north of the Capitol building, between the Capitol and the Supreme Court building. Its primary content is the text of the Ten Commandments. An eagle grasping the American flag, an eye inside of a pyramid, and two small tablets with what appears to be an ancient script are carved above the text of the Ten Commandments. Below the text are two Stars of David and the superimposed Greek letters Chi and Rho, which represent Christ. The bottom of the monument bears the inscription "PRESENTED [682] TO THE PEOPLE AND YOUTH OF TEXAS BY THE FRATERNAL ORDER OF EAGLES OF TEXAS 1961." App. to Pet. for Cert. 21.

The legislative record surrounding the State's acceptance of the monument from the Eagles — a national social, civic, and patriotic organization — is limited to legislative journal entries. After the monument was accepted, the State selected a site for the monument based on the recommendation of the state organization responsible for maintaining the Capitol grounds. The Eagles paid the cost of erecting the monument, the dedication of which was presided over by two state legislators.

Petitioner Thomas Van Orden is a native Texan and a resident of Austin. At one time he was a licensed lawyer, having graduated from Southern Methodist Law School. Van Orden testified that, since 1995, he has encountered the Ten Commandments monument during his frequent visits to the Capitol grounds. His visits are typically for the purpose of using the law library in the Supreme Court building, which is located just northwest of the Capitol building.

Forty years after the monument's erection and six years after Van Orden began to encounter the monument frequently, he sued numerous state officials in their official capacities under Rev. Stat. § 1979, 42 U. S. C. § 1983, seeking both a declaration that the monument's placement violates the Establishment Clause and an injunction requiring its removal. After a bench trial, the District Court held that the monument did not contravene the Establishment Clause. It found that the State had a valid secular purpose in recognizing and commending the Eagles for their efforts to reduce juvenile delinquency. The District Court also determined that a reasonable observer, mindful of the history, purpose, and context, would not conclude that this passive monument conveyed the message that the State was seeking to endorse religion. The Court of Appeals affirmed the District [683] Court's holdings with respect to the monument's purpose and effect. 351 F. 3d 173 (CA5 2003). We granted certiorari, 543 U. S. 923 (2004), and now affirm.

Our cases, Januslike, point in two directions in applying the Establishment Clause. One face looks toward the strong role played by religion and religious traditions throughout our Nation's history. As we observed in School Dist. of Abington Township v. Schempp, 374 U. S. 203 (1963):

"It is true that religion has been closely identified with our history and government. . . . The fact that the Founding Fathers believed devotedly that there was a God and that the unalienable rights of man were rooted in Him is clearly evidenced in their writings, from the Mayflower Compact to the Constitution itself. . . . It can be truly said, therefore, that today, as in the beginning, our national life reflects a religious people who, in the words of Madison, are `earnestly praying, as . . . in duty bound, that the Supreme Lawgiver of the Universe ... guide them into every measure which may be worthy of his [blessing....]'" Id., at 212-213.[3]

The other face looks toward the principle that governmental intervention in religious matters can itself endanger religious freedom.

This case, like all Establishment Clause challenges, presents us with the difficulty of respecting both faces. Our institutions presuppose a Supreme Being, yet these institutions must not press religious observances upon their citizens. One face looks to the past in acknowledgment of our Nation's heritage, while the other looks to the present in demanding a separation between church and state. Reconciling these two faces requires that we neither abdicate our [684] responsibility to maintain a division between church and state nor evince a hostility to religion by disabling the government from in some ways recognizing our religious heritage:

"When the state encourages religious instruction or co-operates with religious authorities by adjusting the schedule of public events to sectarian needs, it follows the best of our traditions. For it then respects the religious nature of our people and accommodates the public service to their spiritual needs. To hold that it may not would be to find in the Constitution a requirement that the government show a callous indifference to religious groups. . . . [W]e find no constitutional requirement which makes it necessary for government to be hostile to religion and to throw its weight against efforts to widen the effective scope of religious influence." Zorach v. Clauson, 343 U. S. 306, 313-314 (1952).

See also Rosenberger v. Rector and Visitors of Univ. of Va., 515 U. S. 819, 845-846 (1995) (warning against the "risk [of] fostering a pervasive bias or hostility to religion, which could undermine the very neutrality the Establishment Clause requires").[4]

[685] These two faces are evident in representative cases both upholding[5] and invalidating[6] laws under the Establishment Clause. Over the last 25 years, we have sometimes pointed [686] to Lemon v. Kurtzman, 403 U. S. 602 (1971), as providing the governing test in Establishment Clause challenges.[7] Compare Wallace v. Jaffree, 472 U. S. 38 (1985) (applying Lemon), with Marsh v. Chambers, 463 U. S. 783 (1983) (not applying Lemon). Yet, just two years after Lemon was decided, we noted that the factors identified in Lemon serve as "no more than helpful signposts." Hunt v. McNair, 413 U. S. 734, 741 (1973). Many of our recent cases simply have not applied the Lemon test. See, e.g., Zelman v. Simmons-Harris, 536 U. S. 639 (2002); Good News Club v. Milford Central School, 533 U. S. 98 (2001). Others have applied it only after concluding that the challenged practice was invalid under a different Establishment Clause test.

Whatever may be the fate of the Lemon test in the larger scheme of Establishment Clause jurisprudence, we think it not useful in dealing with the sort of passive monument that Texas has erected on its Capitol grounds. Instead, our analysis is driven both by the nature of the monument and by our Nation's history.

As we explained in Lynch v. Donnelly, 465 U. S. 668 (1984): "There is an unbroken history of official acknowledgment by all three branches of government of the role of religion in American life from at least 1789." Id., at 674. For example, both Houses passed resolutions in 1789 asking President George Washington to issue a Thanksgiving Day Proclamation to "recommend to the people of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer, to be observed, by acknowledging, with grateful hearts, the many and signal favors of Almighty God." 1 Annals of Cong. 90, 914 (internal quotation marks omitted). President Washington's proclamation [687] directly attributed to the Supreme Being the foundations and successes of our young Nation:

"Now, therefore, I do recommend and assign Thursday, the 26th day of November next, to be devoted by the people of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being who is the beneficent author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be; that we may then all unite in rendering unto Him our sincere and humble thanks for His kind care and protection of the people of this country previous to their becoming a nation; for the signal and manifold mercies and the favorable interpositions of His providence in the course and conclusion of the late war; for the great degree of tranquillity, union, and plenty which we have since enjoyed; for the peaceable and rational manner in which we have been enabled to establish constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national one now lately instituted; for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed, and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge; and, in general, for all the great and various favors which He has been pleased to confer upon us." 1 J. Richardson, Messages and Papers of the Presidents, 1789-1897, p. 64 (1899).

Recognition of the role of God in our Nation's heritage has also been reflected in our decisions. We have acknowledged, for example, that "religion has been closely identified with our history and government," School Dist. of Abington Township v. Schempp, 374 U. S., at 212, and that "[t]he history of man is inseparable from the history of religion," Engel v. Vitale, 370 U. S. 421, 434 (1962).[8] This recognition [688] has led us to hold that the Establishment Clause permits a state legislature to open its daily sessions with a prayer by a chaplain paid by the State. Marsh v. Chambers, 463 U. S., at 792.[9] Such a practice, we thought, was "deeply embedded in the history and tradition of this country." Id., at 786. As we observed there, "it would be incongruous to interpret [the Establishment Clause] as imposing more stringent First Amendment limits on the states than the draftsmen imposed on the Federal Government." Id., at 790-791. With similar reasoning, we have upheld laws, which originated from one of the Ten Commandments, that prohibited the sale of merchandise on Sunday. McGowan v. Maryland, 366 U. S. 420, 431-440 (1961); see id., at 470-488 (separate opinion of Frankfurter, J.).

In this case we are faced with a display of the Ten Commandments on government property outside the Texas State Capitol. Such acknowledgments of the role played by the Ten Commandments in our Nation's heritage are common throughout America. We need only look within our own Courtroom. Since 1935, Moses has stood, holding two tablets that reveal portions of the Ten Commandments written in Hebrew, among other lawgivers in the south frieze. Representations of the Ten Commandments adorn the metal gates lining the north and south sides of the Courtroom as well as the doors leading into the Courtroom. Moses also sits on the exterior east facade of the building holding the Ten Commandments tablets.

[689] Similar acknowledgments can be seen throughout a visitor's tour of our Nation's Capital. For example, a large statue of Moses holding the Ten Commandments, alongside a statue of the Apostle Paul, has overlooked the rotunda of the Library of Congress' Jefferson Building since 1897. And the Jefferson Building's Great Reading Room contains a sculpture of a woman beside the Ten Commandments with a quote above her from the Old Testament (Micah 6:8). A medallion with two tablets depicting the Ten Commandments decorates the floor of the National Archives. Inside the Department of Justice, a statue entitled "The Spirit of Law" has two tablets representing the Ten Commandments lying at its feet. In front of the Ronald Reagan Building is another sculpture that includes a depiction of the Ten Commandments. So too a 24-foot-tall sculpture, depicting, among other things, the Ten Commandments and a cross, stands outside the federal courthouse that houses both the Court of Appeals and the District Court for the District of Columbia. Moses is also prominently featured in the Chamber of the United States House of Representatives.[10]

Our opinions, like our building, have recognized the role the Decalogue plays in America's heritage. See, e.g., McGowan v. Maryland, 366 U. S., at 442; id., at 462 (separate opinion [690] of Frankfurter, J.).[11] The Executive and Legislative Branches have also acknowledged the historical role of the Ten Commandments. See, e.g., Public Papers of the Presidents, Harry S. Truman, 1950, p. 157 (1965); S. Con. Res. 13, 105th Cong., 1st Sess. (1997); H. Con. Res. 31, 105th Cong., 1st Sess. (1997). These displays and recognitions of the Ten Commandments bespeak the rich American tradition of religious acknowledgments.

Of course, the Ten Commandments are religious — they were so viewed at their inception and so remain. The monument, therefore, has religious significance. According to Judeo-Christian belief, the Ten Commandments were given to Moses by God on Mt. Sinai. But Moses was a lawgiver as well as a religious leader. And the Ten Commandments have an undeniable historical meaning, as the foregoing examples demonstrate. Simply having religious content or promoting a message consistent with a religious doctrine does not run afoul of the Establishment Clause. See Lynch v. Donnelly, 465 U. S., at 680, 687; Marsh v. Chambers, 463 U. S., at 792; McGowan v. Maryland, supra, at 437-440; Walz v. Tax Comm'n of City of New York, 397 U. S. 664, 676-678 (1970).

There are, of course, limits to the display of religious messages or symbols. For example, we held unconstitutional a Kentucky statute requiring the posting of the Ten Commandments in every public schoolroom. Stone v. Graham, 449 U. S. 39 (1980) (per curiam). In the classroom context, we found that the Kentucky statute had an improper and plainly religious purpose. Id., at 41. As evidenced by Stone's almost exclusive reliance upon two of our school [691] prayer cases, id., at 41-42 (citing School Dist. of Abington Township v. Schempp, 374 U. S. 203 (1963), and Engel v. Vitale, 370 U. S. 421 (1962)), it stands as an example of the fact that we have "been particularly vigilant in monitoring compliance with the Establishment Clause in elementary and secondary schools," Edwards v. Aguillard, 482 U. S. 578, 583-584 (1987). Compare Lee v. Weisman, 505 U. S. 577, 596-597 (1992) (holding unconstitutional a prayer at a secondary school graduation), with Marsh v. Chambers, supra (upholding a prayer in the state legislature). Indeed, Edwards v. Aguillard recognized that Stone — along with Schempp and Engel — was a consequence of the "particular concerns that arise in the context of public elementary and secondary schools." 482 U. S., at 584-585. Neither Stone itself nor subsequent opinions have indicated that Stone's holding would extend to a legislative chamber, see Marsh v. Chambers, supra, or to capitol grounds.[12]

The placement of the Ten Commandments monument on the Texas State Capitol grounds is a far more passive use of those texts than was the case in Stone, where the text confronted elementary school students every day. Indeed, Van Orden, the petitioner here, apparently walked by the monument for a number of years before bringing this lawsuit. The monument is therefore also quite different from the prayers involved in Schempp and Lee v. Weisman. Texas has treated its Capitol grounds monuments as representing the several strands in the State's political and legal history. The inclusion of the Ten Commandments monument in this [692] group has a dual significance, partaking of both religion and government. We cannot say that Texas' display of this monument violates the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment.

The judgment of the Court of Appeals is affirmed.

It is so ordered.

JUSTICE SCALIA, concurring.

I join the opinion of THE CHIEF JUSTICE because I think it accurately reflects our current Establishment Clause jurisprudence — or at least the Establishment Clause jurisprudence we currently apply some of the time. I would prefer to reach the same result by adopting an Establishment Clause jurisprudence that is in accord with our Nation's past and present practices, and that can be consistently applied — the central relevant feature of which is that there is nothing unconstitutional in a State's favoring religion generally, honoring God through public prayer and acknowledgment, or, in a nonproselytizing manner, venerating the Ten Commandments. See McCreary County v. American Civil Liberties Union of Ky., post, at 885-894 (Scalia, J., dissenting).

JUSTICE THOMAS, concurring.

The Court holds that the Ten Commandments monument found on the Texas State Capitol grounds does not violate the Establishment Clause. Rather than trying to suggest meaninglessness where there is meaning, THE CHIEF JUSTICE rightly recognizes that the monument has "religious significance." Ante, at 690. He properly recognizes the role of religion in this Nation's history and the permissibility of government displays acknowledging that history. Ante, at 686-688. For those reasons, I join THE CHIEF JUSTICE'S opinion in full.

This case would be easy if the Court were willing to abandon the inconsistent guideposts it has adopted for addressing [693] Establishment Clause challenges,[13] and return to the original meaning of the Clause. I have previously suggested that the Clause's text and history "resis[t] incorporation" against the States. See Elk Grove Unified School Dist. v. Newdow, 542 U. S. 1, 45-46 (2004) (opinion concurring in judgment); see also Zelman v. Simmons-Harris, 536 U. S. 639, 677-680, and n. 3 (2002) (concurring opinion). If the Establishment Clause does not restrain the States, then it has no application here, where only state action is at issue.

Even if the Clause is incorporated, or if the Free Exercise Clause limits the power of States to establish religions, see Cutter v. Wilkinson, 544 U. S. 709, 728, n. 3 (2005) (THOMAS, J., concurring), our task would be far simpler if we returned to the original meaning of the word "establishment" than it is under the various approaches this Court now uses. The Framers understood an establishment "necessarily [to] involve actual legal coercion." Newdow, supra, at 52 (Thomas, J., concurring in judgment); Lee v. Weisman, 505 U. S. 577, 640 (1992) (Scalia, J., dissenting) ("The coercion that was a hallmark of historical establishments of religion was coercion of religious orthodoxy and of financial support by force of law and threat of penalty"). "In other words, establishment at the founding involved, for example, mandatory observance or mandatory payment of taxes supporting ministers." Cutter, supra, at 729 (THOMAS, J., concurring). And "government practices that have nothing to do with creating or maintaining . . . coercive state establishments" simply do not "implicate the possible liberty interest of being [694] free from coercive state establishments." Newdow, supra, at 53 (THOMAS, J., concurring in judgment).

There is no question that, based on the original meaning of the Establishment Clause, the Ten Commandments display at issue here is constitutional. In no sense does Texas compel petitioner Van Orden to do anything. The only injury to him is that he takes offense at seeing the monument as he passes it on his way to the Texas Supreme Court Library. He need not stop to read it or even to look at it, let alone to express support for it or adopt the Commandments as guides for his life. The mere presence of the monument along his path involves no coercion and thus does not violate the Establishment Clause.

Returning to the original meaning would do more than simplify our task. It also would avoid the pitfalls present in the Court's current approach to such challenges. This Court's precedent elevates the trivial to the proverbial "federal case," by making benign signs and postings subject to challenge. Yet even as it does so, the Court's precedent attempts to avoid declaring all religious symbols and words of longstanding tradition unconstitutional, by counterfactually declaring them of little religious significance. Even when the Court's cases recognize that such symbols have religious meaning, they adopt an unhappy compromise that fails fully to account for either the adherent's or the nonadherent's beliefs, and provides no principled way to choose between them. Even worse, the incoherence of the Court's decisions in this area renders the Establishment Clause impenetrable and incapable of consistent application. All told, this Court's jurisprudence leaves courts, governments, and believers and nonbelievers alike confused — an observation that is hardly new. See Newdow, supra, at 45, n. 1 (Thomas, J., concurring in judgment) (collecting cases).

First, this Court's precedent permits even the slightest public recognition of religion to constitute an establishment of religion. For example, individuals frequenting a county [695] courthouse have successfully challenged as an Establishment Clause violation a sign at the courthouse alerting the public that the building was closed for Good Friday and containing a 4-inch-high crucifix. Granzeier v. Middleton, 955 F. Supp. 741, 743, and n. 2, 746-747 (ED Ky. 1997), aff'd on other grounds, 173 F. 3d 568, 576 (CA6 1999). Similarly, a park ranger has claimed that a cross erected to honor World War I veterans on a rock in the Mojave Desert Preserve violated the Establishment Clause, and won. See Buono v. Norton, 212 F. Supp. 2d 1202, 1204-1205, 1215-1217 (CD Cal. 2002). If a cross in the middle of a desert establishes a religion, then no religious observance is safe from challenge. Still other suits have charged that city seals containing religious symbols violate the Establishment Clause. See, e.g., Robinson v. Edmond, 68 F. 3d 1226 (CA10 1995); Murray v. Austin, 947 F. 2d 147 (CA5 1991); Friedman v. Board of Cty. Comm'rs of Bernalillo Cty., 781 F. 2d 777 (CA10 1985) (en banc). In every instance, the litigants are mere "[p]assersby . . . free to ignore [such symbols or signs], or even to turn their backs, just as they are free to do when they disagree with any other form of government speech." County of Allegheny v. American Civil Liberties Union, Greater Pittsburgh Chapter, 492 U. S. 573, 664 (1989) (Kennedy, J., concurring in judgment in part and dissenting in part).

Second, in a seeming attempt to balance out its willingness to consider almost any acknowledgment of religion an establishment, in other cases Members of this Court have concluded that the term or symbol at issue has no religious meaning by virtue of its ubiquity or rote ceremonial invocation. See, e.g., id., at 630-631 (O'Connor, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment); Lynch v. Donnelly, 465 U. S. 668, 716-717 (1984) (Brennan, J., dissenting). But words such as "God" have religious significance. For example, just last Term this Court had before it a challenge to the recitation of the Pledge of Allegiance, which includes the [696] phrase "one Nation under God." The declaration that our country is "`one Nation under God'" necessarily "entail[s] an affirmation that God exists." Newdow, 542 U. S., at 48 (Thomas, J., concurring in judgment). This phrase is thus anathema to those who reject God's existence and a validation of His existence to those who accept it. Telling either nonbelievers or believers that the words "under God" have no meaning contradicts what they know to be true. Moreover, repetition does not deprive religious words or symbols of their traditional meaning. Words like "God" are not vulgarities for which the shock value diminishes with each successive utterance.

Even when this Court's precedents recognize the religious meaning of symbols or words, that recognition fails to respect fully religious belief or disbelief. This Court looks for the meaning to an observer of indeterminate religious affiliation who knows all the facts and circumstances surrounding a challenged display. See, e.g., Capitol Square Review and Advisory Bd. v. Pinette, 515 U. S. 753, 780 (1995) (O'CONNOR, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment) (presuming that a reasonable observer is "aware of the history and context of the community and forum in which the religious display appears"). In looking to the view of this unusually informed observer, this Court inquires whether the sign or display "sends the ancillary message to . . . nonadherents `that they are outsiders, not full members of the political community, and an accompanying message to adherents that they are insiders, favored members of the political community.'" Santa Fe Independent School Dist. v. Doe, 530 U. S. 290, 309-310 (2000) (quoting Lynch, supra, at 688 (O'Connor, J., concurring)).

This analysis is not fully satisfying to either nonadherents or adherents. For the nonadherent, who may well be more sensitive than the hypothetical "reasonable observer," or who may not know all the facts, this test fails to capture completely the honest and deeply felt offense he takes from [697] the government conduct. For the adherent, this analysis takes no account of the message sent by removal of the sign or display, which may well appear to him to be an act hostile to his religious faith. The Court's foray into religious meaning either gives insufficient weight to the views of nonadherents and adherents alike, or it provides no principled way to choose between those views. In sum, this Court's effort to assess religious meaning is fraught with futility.

Finally, the very "flexibility" of this Court's Establishment Clause precedent leaves it incapable of consistent application. See Edwards v. Aguillard, 482 U. S. 578, 640 (1987) (Scalia, J., dissenting) (criticizing the Lemon test's "flexibility" as "the absence of any principled rationale" (internal quotation marks omitted)). The inconsistency between the decisions the Court reaches today in this case and in McCreary County v. American Civil Liberties Union of Ky., post, p. 844, only compounds the confusion.

The unintelligibility of this Court's precedent raises the further concern that, either in appearance or in fact, adjudication of Establishment Clause challenges turns on judicial predilections. See, e.g., Harris v. Zion, 927 F. 2d 1401, 1425 (CA7 1991) (Easterbrook, J., dissenting) ("Line drawing in this area will be erratic and heavily influenced by the personal views of the judges"); post, at 700 (Breyer, J., concurring in judgment) ("I see no test-related substitute for the exercise of legal judgment"). The outcome of constitutional cases ought to rest on firmer grounds than the personal preferences of judges.

Much, if not all, of this would be avoided if the Court would return to the views of the Framers and adopt coercion as the touchstone for our Establishment Clause inquiry. Every acknowledgment of religion would not give rise to an Establishment Clause claim. Courts would not act as theological commissions, judging the meaning of religious matters. Most important, our precedent would be capable of consistent and coherent application. While the Court correctly [698] rejects the challenge to the Ten Commandments monument on the Texas Capitol grounds, a more fundamental rethinking of our Establishment Clause jurisprudence remains in order.

JUSTICE BREYER, concurring in the judgment.

In School Dist. of Abington Township v. Schempp, 374 U. S. 203 (1963), Justice Goldberg, joined by Justice Harlan, wrote, in respect to the First Amendment's Religion Clauses, that there is "no simple and clear measure which by precise application can readily and invariably demark the permissible from the impermissible." Id., at 306 (concurring opinion). One must refer instead to the basic purposes of those Clauses. They seek to "assure the fullest possible scope of religious liberty and tolerance for all." Id., at 305. They seek to avoid that divisiveness based upon religion that promotes social conflict, sapping the strength of government and religion alike. Zelman v. Simmons-Harris, 536 U. S. 639, 717-729 (2002) (Breyer, J., dissenting). They seek to maintain that "separation of church and state" that has long been critical to the "peaceful dominion that religion exercises in [this] country," where the "spirit of religion" and the "spirit of freedom" are productively "united," "reign[ing] together" but in separate spheres "on the same soil." A. de Tocqueville, Democracy in America 282-283 (1835) (H. Mansfield & D. Winthrop transls. and eds. 2000). They seek to further the basic principles set forth today by JUSTICE O'Connor in her concurring opinion in McCreary County v. American Civil Liberties Union of Ky., post, at 881.

The Court has made clear, as Justices Goldberg and Harlan noted, that the realization of these goals means that government must "neither engage in nor compel religious practices," that it must "effect no favoritism among sects or between religion and nonreligion," and that it must "work deterrence of no religious belief." Schempp, supra, at 305 (concurring opinion); see also Lee v. Weisman, 505 U. S. 577, [699] 587 (1992); Everson v. Board of Ed. of Ewing, 330 U. S. 1, 15-16 (1947). The government must avoid excessive interference with, or promotion of, religion. See generally County of Allegheny v. American Civil Liberties Union, Greater Pittsburgh Chapter, 492 U. S. 573, 593-594 (1989); Zelman, supra, at 723-725 (BREYER, J., dissenting). But the Establishment Clause does not compel the government to purge from the public sphere all that in any way partakes of the religious. See, e.g., Marsh v. Chambers, 463 U. S. 783 (1983). Such absolutism is not only inconsistent with our national traditions, see, e.g., Lemon v. Kurtzman, 403 U. S. 602, 614 (1971); Lynch v. Donnelly, 465 U. S. 668, 672-678 (1984), but would also tend to promote the kind of social conflict the Establishment Clause seeks to avoid.

Thus, as Justices Goldberg and Harlan pointed out, the Court has found no single mechanical formula that can accurately draw the constitutional line in every case. See Schempp, 374 U. S., at 306 (concurring opinion). Where the Establishment Clause is at issue, tests designed to measure "neutrality" alone are insufficient, both because it is sometimes difficult to determine when a legal rule is "neutral," and because

"untutored devotion to the concept of neutrality can lead to invocation or approval of results which partake not simply of that noninterference and noninvolvement with the religious which the Constitution commands, but of a brooding and pervasive devotion to the secular and a passive, or even active, hostility to the religious." Ibid.

Neither can this Court's other tests readily explain the Establishment Clause's tolerance, for example, of the prayers that open legislative meetings, see Marsh, supra; certain references to, and invocations of, the Deity in the public words of public officials; the public references to God on coins, decrees, and buildings; or the attention paid to the religious objectives of certain holidays, including Thanksgiving. See, [700] e.g., Lemon, supra, at 612-613 (setting forth what has come to be known as the "Lemon test"); Lynch, supra, at 687 (O'CONNOR, J., concurring) (setting forth the "endorsement test"); Capitol Square Review and Advisory Bd. v. Pinette, 515 U. S. 753, 800, n. 5 (1995) (Stevens, J., dissenting) (agreeing that an "endorsement test" should apply but criticizing its "reasonable observer" standard); Santa Fe Independent School Dist. v. Doe, 530 U. S. 290, 319 (2000) (REHNQUIST, C. J., dissenting) (noting Lemon's "checkered career in the decisional law of this Court"); County of Allegheny, supra, at 655-656 (Kennedy, J., joined by REHNQUIST, C. J., and White and SCALIA, JJ., concurring in judgment in part and dissenting in part) (criticizing the Lemon test).

If the relation between government and religion is one of separation, but not of mutual hostility and suspicion, one will inevitably find difficult borderline cases. And in such cases, I see no test-related substitute for the exercise of legal judgment. See Schempp, supra, at 305 (Goldberg, J., concurring); cf. Zelman, supra, at 726-728 (Breyer, J., dissenting) (need for similar exercise of judgment where quantitative considerations matter). That judgment is not a personal judgment. Rather, as in all constitutional cases, it must reflect and remain faithful to the underlying purposes of the Clauses, and it must take account of context and consequences measured in light of those purposes. While the Court's prior tests provide useful guideposts — and might well lead to the same result the Court reaches today, see, e.g., Lemon, supra, at 612-613; Capitol Square, supra, at 773-783 (O'CONNOR, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment) — no exact formula can dictate a resolution to such fact-intensive cases.

The case before us is a borderline case. It concerns a large granite monument bearing the text of the Ten Commandments located on the grounds of the Texas State Capitol. On the one hand, the Commandments' text undeniably has a religious message, invoking, indeed emphasizing, the [701] Deity. On the other hand, focusing on the text of the Commandments alone cannot conclusively resolve this case. Rather, to determine the message that the text here conveys, we must examine how the text is used. And that inquiry requires us to consider the context of the display.

In certain contexts, a display of the tablets of the Ten Commandments can convey not simply a religious message but also a secular moral message (about proper standards of social conduct). And in certain contexts, a display of the tablets can also convey a historical message (about a historic relation between those standards and the law) — a fact that helps to explain the display of those tablets in dozens of courthouses throughout the Nation, including the Supreme Court of the United States. See generally App. to Brief for United States as Amicus Curiae 1a-7a.

Here the tablets have been used as part of a display that communicates not simply a religious message, but a secular message as well. The circumstances surrounding the display's placement on the capitol grounds and its physical setting suggest that the State itself intended the latter, nonreligious aspects of the tablets' message to predominate. And the monument's 40-year history on the Texas state grounds indicates that that has been its effect.

The group that donated the monument, the Fraternal Order of Eagles, a private civic (and primarily secular) organization, while interested in the religious aspect of the Ten Commandments, sought to highlight the Commandments' role in shaping civic morality as part of that organization's efforts to combat juvenile delinquency. See Tex. S. Con. Res. 16, 57th Leg., Reg. Sess. (1961). The Eagles' consultation with a committee composed of members of several faiths in order to find a nonsectarian text underscores the group's ethics-based motives. See Brief for Respondents 5-6, and n. 9. The tablets, as displayed on the monument, prominently acknowledge that the Eagles donated the display, a factor which, though not sufficient, thereby further distances [702] the State itself from the religious aspect of the Commandments' message.

The physical setting of the monument, moreover, suggests little or nothing of the sacred. See Appendix A, infra. The monument sits in a large park containing 17 monuments and 21 historical markers, all designed to illustrate the "ideals" of those who settled in Texas and of those who have lived there since that time. Tex. H. Con. Res. 38, 77th Leg., Reg. Sess. (2001); see Appendix B, infra. The setting does not readily lend itself to meditation or any other religious activity. But it does provide a context of history and moral ideals. It (together with the display's inscription about its origin) communicates to visitors that the State sought to reflect moral principles, illustrating a relation between ethics and law that the State's citizens, historically speaking, have endorsed. That is to say, the context suggests that the State intended the display's moral message — an illustrative message reflecting the historical "ideals" of Texans — to predominate.

If these factors provide a strong, but not conclusive, indication that the Commandments' text on this monument conveys a predominantly secular message, a further factor is determinative here. As far as I can tell, 40 years passed in which the presence of this monument, legally speaking, went unchallenged (until the single legal objection raised by petitioner). And I am not aware of any evidence suggesting that this was due to a climate of intimidation. Hence, those 40 years suggest more strongly than can any set of formulaic tests that few individuals, whatever their system of beliefs, are likely to have understood the monument as amounting, in any significantly detrimental way, to a government effort to favor a particular religious sect, primarily to promote religion over nonreligion, to "engage in" any "religious practic[e]," to "compel" any "religious practic[e]," or to "work deterrence" of any "religious belief." Schempp, 374 U. S., at 305 (Goldberg, J., concurring). Those 40 years suggest that [703] the public visiting the capitol grounds has considered the religious aspect of the tablets' message as part of what is a broader moral and historical message reflective of a cultural heritage.

This case, moreover, is distinguishable from instances where the Court has found Ten Commandments displays impermissible. The display is not on the grounds of a public school, where, given the impressionability of the young, government must exercise particular care in separating church and state. See, e.g., Weisman, 505 U. S., at 592; Stone v. Graham, 449 U. S. 39 (1980) (per curiam). This case also differs from McCreary County, where the short (and stormy) history of the courthouse Commandments' displays demonstrates the substantially religious objectives of those who mounted them, and the effect of this readily apparent objective upon those who view them. See post, at 869-873 (opinion of the Court). That history there indicates a governmental effort substantially to promote religion, not simply an effort primarily to reflect, historically, the secular impact of a religiously inspired document. And, in today's world, in a Nation of so many different religious and comparable nonreligious fundamental beliefs, a more contemporary state effort to focus attention upon a religious text is certainly likely to prove divisive in a way that this longstanding, pre-existing monument has not.

For these reasons, I believe that the Texas display — serving a mixed but primarily nonreligious purpose, not primarily "advanc[ing]" or "inhibit[ing] religion," and not creating an "excessive government entanglement with religion" — might satisfy this Court's more formal Establishment Clause tests. Lemon, 403 U. S., at 612-613 (internal quotation marks omitted); see also Capitol Square, 515 U. S., at 773-783 (O'CONNOR, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment). But, as I have said, in reaching the conclusion that the Texas display falls on the permissible side of the constitutional line, I rely less upon a literal application of any particular [704] test than upon consideration of the basic purposes of the First Amendment's Religion Clauses themselves. This display has stood apparently uncontested for nearly two generations. That experience helps us understand that as a practical matter of degree this display is unlikely to prove divisive. And this matter of degree is, I believe, critical in a borderline case such as this one.

At the same time, to reach a contrary conclusion here, based primarily on the religious nature of the tablets' text would, I fear, lead the law to exhibit a hostility toward religion that has no place in our Establishment Clause traditions. Such a holding might well encourage disputes concerning the removal of longstanding depictions of the Ten Commandments from public buildings across the Nation. And it could thereby create the very kind of religiously based divisiveness that the Establishment Clause seeks to avoid. Zelman, 536 U. S., at 717-729 (BREYER, J., dissenting).

Justices Goldberg and Harlan concluded in Schempp that

"[t]he First Amendment does not prohibit practices which by any realistic measure create none of the dangers which it is designed to prevent and which do not so directly or substantially involve the state in religious exercises or in the favoring of religion as to have meaningful and practical impact." 374 U. S., at 308 (concurring opinion).

That kind of practice is what we have here. I recognize the danger of the slippery slope. Still, where the Establishment Clause is at issue, we must "distinguish between real threat and mere shadow." Ibid. Here, we have only the shadow.

In light of these considerations, I cannot agree with today's plurality's analysis. Nor can I agree with JUSTICE Scalia's dissent in McCreary County, post, at 885. I do agree with JUSTICE O'Connor's statement of principles in McCreary County, post, at 881-883, though I disagree with [705] her evaluation of the evidence as it bears on the application of those principles to this case.

I concur in the judgment of the Court.

[Appendixes A and B to opinion of Breyer, J., follow this page.]

[706] APPENDIX A TO OPINION OF BREYER, J.

[707] JUSTICE STEVENS, with whom JUSTICE GINSBURG joins, dissenting.

The sole function of the monument on the grounds of Texas' State Capitol is to display the full text of one version of the Ten Commandments. The monument is not a work of art and does not refer to any event in the history of the State. It is significant because, and only because, it communicates the following message:

"I AM the LORD thy God.

Thou shalt have no other gods before me.

Thou shalt not make to thyself any graven images.

Thou shalt not take the Name of the Lord thy God in vain.

Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.

Honor thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee.

Thou shalt not kill.

Thou shalt not commit adultery.

Thou shalt not steal.

Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.

Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's house.

Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his cattle, nor anything that is thy neighbor's." See Appendix, infra.[14]

Viewed on its face, Texas' display has no purported connection to God's role in the formation of Texas or the founding of our Nation; nor does it provide the reasonable observer with any basis to guess that it was erected to honor any individual or organization. The message transmitted by Texas' chosen display is quite plain: This State endorses the divine code of the "Judeo-Christian" God.

[708] For those of us who learned to recite the King James version of the text long before we understood the meaning of some of its words, God's Commandments may seem like wise counsel. The question before this Court, however, is whether it is counsel that the State of Texas may proclaim without violating the Establishment Clause of the Constitution. If any fragment of Jefferson's metaphorical "wall of separation between church and State"[15] is to be preserved — if there remains any meaning to the "wholesome `neutrality' of which this Court's [Establishment Clause] cases speak," School Dist. of Abington Township v. Schempp, 374 U. S. 203, 222 (1963) — a negative answer to that question is mandatory.

I

In my judgment, at the very least, the Establishment Clause has created a strong presumption against the display of religious symbols on public property. See, e.g., County of Allegheny v. American Civil Liberties Union, Greater Pittsburgh Chapter, 492 U. S. 573, 650 (1989) (STEVENS, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part); Capitol Square Review and Advisory Bd. v. Pinette, 515 U. S. 753, 797 (1995) (Stevens, J., dissenting). The adornment of our public spaces with displays of religious symbols and messages undoubtedly provides comfort, even inspiration, to many individuals who subscribe to particular faiths. Unfortunately, the practice also runs the risk of "offend[ing] nonmembers of the faith being advertised as well as adherents who consider the particular advertisement disrespectful." Allegheny County, 492 U. S., at 651 (STEVENS, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part).[16]

[709] Government's obligation to avoid divisiveness and exclusion in the religious sphere is compelled by the Establishment and Free Exercise Clauses, which together erect a wall of separation between church and state.[17] This metaphorical wall protects principles long recognized and often recited in this Court's cases. The first and most fundamental of these principles, one that a majority of this Court today affirms, is that the Establishment Clause demands religious neutrality — government may not exercise a preference for one religious faith over another. See, e.g., McCreary County v. American Civil Liberties Union of Ky., post, at 874-876.[18] This essential command, however, is not merely a prohibition [710] against the government's differentiation among religious sects. We have repeatedly reaffirmed that neither a State nor the Federal Government "can constitutionally pass laws or impose requirements which aid all religions as against non-believers, and neither can aid those religions based on a belief in the existence of God as against those religions founded on different beliefs." Torcaso v. Watkins, 367 U. S. 488, 495 (1961) (footnote omitted).[19] This principle is based on the straightforward notion that governmental promotion of orthodoxy is not saved by the aggregation of several orthodoxies under the State's banner. See Abington, 374 U. S., at 222.

Acknowledgments of this broad understanding of the neutrality principle are legion in our cases.[20] Strong arguments to the contrary have been raised from time to time, perhaps the strongest in then-Justice Rehnquist's scholarly dissent [711] in Wallace v. Jaffree, 472 U. S. 38, 91-114 (1985).[21] Powerful as his argument was, we squarely rejected it and thereby reaffirmed the principle that the Establishment Clause requires the same respect for the atheist as it does for the adherent of a Christian faith. As we wrote, "the Court has unambiguously concluded that the individual freedom of conscience protected by the First Amendment embraces the right to select any religious faith or none at all." Id., at 52-53.

In restating this principle, I do not discount the importance of avoiding an overly strict interpretation of the metaphor so often used to define the reach of the Establishment Clause. The plurality is correct to note that "religion and religious traditions" have played a "strong role . . . throughout our Nation's history." Ante, at 683. This Court has often recognized "an unbroken history of official acknowledgment. . . of the role of religion in American life." Lynch v. Donnelly, 465 U. S. 668, 674 (1984); accord, Edwards v. Aguillard, 482 U. S. 578, 606-608 (1987) (Powell, J., concurring). Given this history, it is unsurprising that a religious symbol may at times become an important feature of a familiar landscape or a reminder of an important event in the history of a community. The wall that separates the church from the State does not prohibit the government from acknowledging the religious beliefs and practices of the American people, nor does it require governments to hide works of art or historic memorabilia from public view just because they also have religious significance.

This case, however, is not about historic preservation or the mere recognition of religion. The issue is obfuscated rather than clarified by simplistic commentary on the various [712] ways in which religion has played a role in American life, see ante, at 683-688 (plurality opinion), and by the recitation of the many extant governmental "acknowledgments" of the role the Ten Commandments played in our Nation's heritage,[22]ante, at 687-689, and n. 9. Surely, the mere compilation of religious symbols, none of which includes the full text of the Commandments and all of which are exhibited in different settings, has only marginal relevance to the question presented in this case.

The monolith displayed on Texas Capitol grounds cannot be discounted as a passive acknowledgment of religion, nor can the State's refusal to remove it upon objection be explained as a simple desire to preserve a historic relic. This Nation's resolute commitment to neutrality with respect to religion is flatly inconsistent with the plurality's wholehearted validation of an official state endorsement of the message that there is one, and only one, God.

II

When the Ten Commandments monument was donated to the State of Texas in 1961, it was not for the purpose of commemorating a noteworthy event in Texas history, signifying [713] the Commandments' influence on the development of secular law, or even denoting the religious beliefs of Texans at that time. To the contrary, the donation was only one of over a hundred largely identical monoliths, and of over a thousand paper replicas, distributed to state and local governments throughout the Nation over the course of several decades. This ambitious project was the work of the Fraternal Order of Eagles, a well-respected benevolent organization whose good works have earned the praise of several Presidents.[23]

As the story goes, the program was initiated by the late Judge E. J. Ruegemer, a Minnesota juvenile court judge and then-Chairman of the Eagles National Commission on Youth Guidance. Inspired by a juvenile offender who had never heard of the Ten Commandments, the judge approached the Minnesota Eagles with the idea of distributing paper copies of the Commandments to be posted in courthouses nationwide. The State's Aerie undertook this project and its popularity spread. When Cecil B. DeMille, who at that time was filming the movie The Ten Commandments, heard of the judge's endeavor, he teamed up with the Eagles to produce the type of granite monolith now displayed in front of the Texas Capitol and at courthouse squares, city halls, and public parks throughout the Nation. Granite was reportedly chosen over DeMille's original suggestion of bronze plaques to better replicate the original Ten Commandments.[24]

[714] The donors were motivated by a desire to "inspire the youth" and curb juvenile delinquency by providing children with a "`code of conduct or standards by which to govern their actions.'"[25] It is the Eagles' belief that disseminating the message conveyed by the Ten Commandments will help to persuade young men and women to observe civilized standards of behavior, and will lead to more productive lives. Significantly, although the Eagles' organization is nonsectarian, eligibility for membership is premised on a belief in the existence of a "Supreme Being."[26] As described by the Eagles themselves:

"`[I]n searching for a youth guidance program [we] recognized that there can be no better, no more defined program of Youth Guidance, and adult guidance as well, than the laws handed down by God Himself to Moses more than 3000 years ago, which laws have stood unchanged through the years. They are a fundamental part of our lives, the basis of all our laws for living, the foundation of our relationship with our Creator, with our families and with our fellow men. All the concepts we [715] live by—freedom, democracy, justice, honor—are rooted in the Ten Commandments.

. . . . .

"`The erection of these monoliths is to inspire all who pause to view them, with a renewed respect for the law of God, which is our greatest strength against the forces that threaten our way of life.'" Anderson v. Salt Lake City Corp., 348 F. Supp. 1170, 1172 (Utah 1972), rev'd, 475 F. 2d 29 (CA10 1973).

The desire to combat juvenile delinquency by providing guidance to youths is both admirable and unquestionably secular. But achieving that goal through biblical teachings injects a religious purpose into an otherwise secular endeavor. By spreading the word of God and converting heathens to Christianity, missionaries expect to enlighten their converts, enhance their satisfaction with life, and improve their behavior. Similarly, by disseminating the "law of God"—directing fidelity to God and proscribing murder, theft, and adultery—the Eagles hope that this divine guidance will help wayward youths conform their behavior and improve their lives. In my judgment, the significant secular byproducts that are intended consequences of religious instruction—indeed, of the establishment of most religions—are not the type of "secular" purposes that justify government promulgation of sacred religious messages.

Though the State of Texas may genuinely wish to combat juvenile delinquency, and may rightly want to honor the Eagles for their efforts, it cannot effectuate these admirable purposes through an explicitly religious medium. See Bowen v. Kendrick, 487 U. S. 589, 639-640 (1988) (Blackmun, J., dissenting) ("It should be undeniable by now that religious dogma may not be employed by government even to accomplish laudable secular purposes"). The State may admonish its citizens not to lie, cheat, or steal, to honor their parents, and to respect their neighbors' property; and it may do so by printed words, in television commercials, or on granite [716] monuments in front of its public buildings. Moreover, the State may provide its schoolchildren and adult citizens with educational materials that explain the important role that our forebears' faith in God played in their decisions to select America as a refuge from religious persecution, to declare their independence from the British Crown, and to conceive a new Nation. See Edwards, 482 U. S., at 606-608 (Powell, J., concurring). The message at issue in this case, however, is fundamentally different from either a bland admonition to observe generally accepted rules of behavior or a general history lesson.

The reason this message stands apart is that the Decalogue is a venerable religious text.[27] As we held 25 years ago, it is beyond dispute that "[t]he Ten Commandments are undeniably a sacred text in the Jewish and Christian faiths." Stone v. Graham, 449 U. S. 39, 41 (1980) (per curiam). For many followers, the Commandments represent the literal word of God as spoken to Moses and repeated to his followers after descending from Mount Sinai. The message conveyed by the Ten Commandments thus cannot be analogized to an appendage to a common article of commerce ("In God we Trust") or an incidental part of a familiar recital ("God save the United States and this honorable Court"). Thankfully, the plurality does not attempt to minimize the religious significance of the Ten Commandments. Ante, at 690 ("Of course, the Ten Commandments are religious—they were so viewed at their inception and so remain"); ante, at 692 (Thomas, J., concurring); see also McCreary County v. [717] American Civil Liberties Union of Ky., post, at 909 (SCALIA, J., dissenting). Attempts to secularize what is unquestionably a sacred text defy credibility and disserve people of faith.

The profoundly sacred message embodied by the text inscribed on the Texas monument is emphasized by the especially large letters that identify its author: "I AM the LORD thy God." See Appendix, infra. It commands present worship of Him and no other deity. It directs us to be guided by His teaching in the current and future conduct of all of our affairs. It instructs us to follow a code of divine law, some of which has informed and been integrated into our secular legal code ("Thou shalt not kill"), but much of which has not ("Thou shalt not make to thyself any graven images. . . . Thou shalt not covet").

Moreover, despite the Eagles' best efforts to choose a benign nondenominational text,[28] the Ten Commandments display projects not just a religious, but an inherently sectarian, message. There are many distinctive versions of the Decalogue, ascribed to by different religions and even different denominations within a particular faith; to a pious and learned observer, these differences may be of enormous religious [718] significance.[29] See Lubet, The Ten Commandments in Alabama, 15 Constitutional Commentary 471, 474-476 (Fall 1998). In choosing to display this version of the Commandments, Texas tells the observer that the State supports this side of the doctrinal religious debate. The reasonable observer, after all, has no way of knowing that this text was the product of a compromise, or that there is a rationale of any kind for the text's selection.[30]

The Establishment Clause, if nothing else, prohibits government from "specifying details upon which men and women who believe in a benevolent, omnipotent Creator and Ruler of the world are known to differ." Lee v. Weisman, 505 U. S. 577, 641 (1992) (Scalia, J., dissenting). Given that the chosen text inscribed on the Ten Commandments monument invariably places the State at the center of a serious [719] sectarian dispute, the display is unquestionably unconstitutional under our case law. See Larson v. Valente, 456 U. S. 228, 244 (1982) ("The clearest command of the Establishment Clause is that one religious denomination cannot be officially preferred over another").

Even if, however, the message of the monument, despite the inscribed text, fairly could be said to represent the belief system of all Judeo-Christians, it would still run afoul of the Establishment Clause by prescribing a compelled code of conduct from one God, namely, a Judeo-Christian God, that is rejected by prominent polytheistic sects, such as Hinduism, as well as nontheistic religions, such as Buddhism.[31] See, e.g., Allegheny County, 492 U. S., at 615 (opinion of Blackmun, J.) ("The simultaneous endorsement of Judaism and Christianity is no less constitutionally infirm than the endorsement of Christianity alone"). And, at the very least, the text of the Ten Commandments impermissibly commands a preference for religion over irreligion. See, e.g., id., at 590 (The Establishment Clause "guarantee[s] religious liberty and equality to `the infidel, the atheist, or the adherent [720] of a non-Christian faith such as Islam or Judaism'" (quoting Wallace, 472 U. S., at 52)). Any of those bases, in my judgment, would be sufficient to conclude that the message should not be proclaimed by the State of Texas on a permanent monument at the seat of its government.

I do not doubt that some Texans, including those elected to the Texas Legislature, may believe that the statues displayed on the Texas Capitol grounds, including the Ten Commandments monument, reflect the "ideals . . . that compose Texan identity." Tex. H. Con. Res. 38, 77th Leg., Reg. Sess. (2001). But Texas, like our entire country, is now a much more diversified community than it was when it became a part of the United States or even when the monument was erected. Today there are many Texans who do not believe in the God whose Commandments are displayed at their seat of government. Many of them worship a different god or no god at all. Some may believe that the account of the creation in the Book of Genesis is less reliable than the views of men like Darwin and Einstein. The monument is no more an expression of the views of every true Texan than was the "Live Free or Die" motto that the State of New Hampshire placed on its license plates in 1969 an accurate expression of the views of every citizen of New Hampshire. See Wooley v. Maynard, 430 U. S. 705 (1977).

Recognizing the diversity of religious and secular beliefs held by Texans and by all Americans, it seems beyond peradventure that allowing the seat of government to serve as a stage for the propagation of an unmistakably Judeo-Christian message of piety would have the tendency to make nonmonotheists and nonbelievers "feel like [outsiders] in matters of faith, and [strangers] in the political community." Pinette, 515 U. S., at 799 (Stevens, J., dissenting). "[D]isplays of this kind inevitably have a greater tendency to emphasize sincere and deeply felt differences among individuals than to achieve an ecumenical goal." Allegheny County, 492 [721] U. S., at 651 (Stevens, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part).[32]

Even more than the display of a religious symbol on government property, see Pinette, 515 U. S., at 797 (Stevens, J., dissenting); Allegheny County, 492 U. S., at 650-651 (Stevens, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part), displaying this sectarian text at the state capitol should invoke a powerful presumption of invalidity. As JUSTICE SOUTER'S opinion persuasively demonstrates, the physical setting in which the Texas monument is displayed—far from rebutting that presumption—actually enhances the religious content of its message. See post, at 742-743 (dissenting opinion). The monument's permanent fixture at the seat of Texas government is of immense significance. The fact that a monument

"is installed on public property implies official recognition and reinforcement of its message. That implication is especially strong when the sign stands in front of the seat of the government itself. The `reasonable observer' of any symbol placed unattended in front of any capitol in the world will normally assume that the sovereign—which is not only the owner of that parcel of real estate but also the lawgiver for the surrounding territory—has sponsored and facilitated its message." Pinette, 515 U. S., at 801-802 (Stevens, J., dissenting).

Critical examination of the Decalogue's prominent display at the seat of Texas government, rather than generic citation [722] to the role of religion in American life, unmistakably reveals on which side of the "slippery slope," ante, at 704 (Breyer, J., concurring in judgment), this display must fall. God, as the author of its message, the Eagles, as the donor of the monument, and the State of Texas, as its proud owner, speak with one voice for a common purpose—to encourage Texans to abide by the divine code of a "Judeo-Christian" God. If this message is permissible, then the shining principle of neutrality to which we have long adhered is nothing more than mere shadow.

III

The plurality relies heavily on the fact that our Republic was founded, and has been governed since its nascence, by leaders who spoke then (and speak still) in plainly religious rhetoric. THE CHIEF JUSTICE cites, for instance, George Washington's 1789 Thanksgiving Proclamation in support of the proposition that the Establishment Clause does not proscribe official recognition of God's role in our Nation's heritage, ante, at 687.[33] Further, the plurality emphatically endorses the seemingly timeless recognition that our "institutions presuppose a Supreme Being," ante, at 683. Many of the submissions made to this Court by the parties and amici, in accord with the plurality's opinion, have relied on the ubiquity of references to God throughout our history.

The speeches and rhetoric characteristic of the founding era, however, do not answer the question before us. I have already explained why Texas' display of the full text of the Ten Commandments, given the content of the actual display [723] and the context in which it is situated, sets this case apart from the countless examples of benign government recognitions of religion. But there is another crucial difference. Our leaders, when delivering public addresses, often express their blessings simultaneously in the service of God and their constituents. Thus, when public officials deliver public speeches, we recognize that their words are not exclusively a transmission from the government because those oratories have embedded within them the inherently personal views of the speaker as an individual member of the polity.[34] The permanent placement of a textual religious display on state property is different in kind; it amalgamates otherwise discordant individual views into a collective statement of government approval. Moreover, the message never ceases to transmit itself to objecting viewers whose only choices are to accept the message or to ignore the offense by averting their gaze. Cf. Allegheny County, 492 U. S., at 664 (Kennedy, J., concurring in judgment in part and dissenting in part); ante, at 695 (Thomas, J., concurring). In this sense, although Thanksgiving Day proclamations and inaugural speeches undoubtedly seem official, in most circumstances they will not constitute the sort of governmental endorsement of religion at which the separation of church and state is aimed.[35]

[724] The plurality's reliance on early religious statements and proclamations made by the Founders is also problematic because those views were not espoused at the Constitutional Convention in 1787[36] nor enshrined in the Constitution's text. Thus, the presentation of these religious statements as a unified historical narrative is bound to paint a misleading picture. It does so here. In according deference to the statements of George Washington and John Adams, THE CHIEF JUSTICE and JUSTICE SCALIA, see ante, at 687 (plurality opinion); McCreary County, post, at 886, 887-888 (dissenting opinion), fail to account for the acts and publicly espoused views of other influential leaders of that time. Notably absent from their historical snapshot is the fact that Thomas Jefferson refused to issue the Thanksgiving proclamations that Washington had so readily embraced based on the argument that to do so would violate the Establishment Clause.[37] THE CHIEF JUSTICE and JUSTICE SCALIA disregard the substantial debates that took place regarding the constitutionality of the early proclamations and acts they cite, see, e.g., Letter from James Madison to Edward Livingston (July 10, 1822), in 5 Founders' Constitution 105-106 (arguing that Congress' appointment of Chaplains to be paid from the National Treasury was "not with my approbation" and was a "deviation" from the principle of "immunity of Religion from civil [725] jurisdiction"),[38] and paper over the fact that Madison more than once repudiated the views attributed to him by many, stating unequivocally that with respect to government's involvement with religion, the "`tendency to a usurpation on one side, or the other, or to a corrupting coalition or alliance between them, will be best guarded against by an entire abstinence of the Government from interference, in any way whatever, beyond the necessity of preserving public order, & protecting each sect against trespasses on its legal rights by others.'"[39]

These seemingly nonconforming sentiments should come as no surprise. Not insignificant numbers of colonists came to this country with memories of religious persecution by [726] monarchs on the other side of the Atlantic. See A. Stokes & L. Pfeffer, Church and State in the United States 3-23 (rev. 1st. ed. 1964). Others experienced religious intolerance at the hands of colonial Puritans, who regrettably failed to practice the tolerance that some of their contemporaries preached. Engel v. Vitale, 370 U. S. 421, 427-429 (1962). THE CHIEF JUSTICE and JUSTICE SCALIA ignore the separationist impulses—in accord with the principle of "neutrality"—that these individuals brought to the debates surrounding the adoption of the Establishment Clause.[40]

Ardent separationists aside, there is another critical nuance lost in the plurality's portrayal of history. Simply put, many of the Founders who are often cited as authoritative expositors of the Constitution's original meaning understood the Establishment Clause to stand for a narrower proposition than the plurality, for whatever reason, is willing to accept. Namely, many of the Framers understood the word "religion" in the Establishment Clause to encompass only the various sects of Christianity.

The evidence is compelling. Prior to the Philadelphia Convention, the States had begun to protect "religious freedom" in their various constitutions. Many of those provisions, however, restricted "equal protection" and "free exercise" [727] to Christians, and invocations of the divine were commonly understood to refer to Christ.[41] That historical background likely informed the Framers' understanding of the First Amendment. Accordingly, one influential thinker wrote of the First Amendment that "`[t]he meaning of the term "establishment" in this amendment unquestionably is, the preference and establishment given by law to one sect of Christians over every other.'" Jasper Adams, The Relation of Christianity to Civil Government in the United States (Feb. 13, 1833) (quoted in Dreisbach 16). That definition tracked the understanding of the text Justice Story adopted in his famous Commentaries, in which he wrote that the "real object" of the Clause was

"not to countenance, much less to advance Mahometanism, or Judaism, or infidelity, by prostrating Christianity; but to exclude all rivalry among Christian sects, and to prevent any national ecclesiastical establishment, which should give to an hierarchy the exclusive patronage of the national government. It thus sought to cut off the means of religious persecution, (the vice and pest of former ages,) and the power of subverting the rights of conscience in matters of religion, which had been trampled upon almost from the days of the Apostles to the present age." J. Story, Commentaries on the Constitution of the United States § 991, p. 701 (R. Rotunda & J. Nowak eds. 1987) (hereinafter Story); see also Wallace, 472 U. S., at 52-55, and n. 36.[42]

[728] Along these lines, for nearly a century after the founding, many accepted the idea that America was not just a religious Nation, but "a Christian nation." Church of Holy Trinity v. United States, 143 U. S. 457, 471 (1892).[43]

The original understanding of the type of "religion" that qualified for constitutional protection under the Establishment Clause likely did not include those followers of Judaism and Islam who are among the preferred "monotheistic" religions JUSTICE SCALIA has embraced in his McCreary County opinion. See post, at 893-894 (dissenting opinion).[44] [729] The inclusion of Jews and Muslims inside the category of constitutionally favored religions surely would have shocked Chief Justice Marshall and Justice Story. Indeed, JUSTICE SCALIA is unable to point to any persuasive historical evidence or entrenched traditions in support of his decision to give specially preferred constitutional status to all monotheistic religions. Perhaps this is because the history of the Establishment Clause's original meaning just as strongly supports a preference for Christianity as it does a preference for monotheism. Generic references to "God" hardly constitute evidence that those who spoke the word meant to be inclusive of all monotheistic believers; nor do such references demonstrate that those who heard the word spoken understood it broadly to include all monotheistic faiths. See supra, at 726-727. JUSTICE SCALIA'S inclusion of Judaism and Islam is a laudable act of religious tolerance, but it is one that is unmoored from the Constitution's history and text, and moreover one that is patently arbitrary in its inclusion of some, but exclusion of other (e.g., Buddhism), widely practiced non-Christian religions. See supra, at 719, and n. 18 (noting that followers of Buddhism nearly equal the number of Americans who follow Islam). Given the original understanding of the men who championed our "Christian nation"—men who had no cause to view anti-Semitism or contempt for atheists as problems worthy of civic concern— one must ask whether JUSTICE SCALIA "has not had the courage (or the foolhardiness) to apply [his originalism] principle consistently." McCreary County, post, at 890.

Indeed, to constrict narrowly the reach of the Establishment Clause to the views of the Founders would lead to more than this unpalatable result; it would also leave us with an unincorporated constitutional provision—in other words, one that limits only the federal establishment of "a national religion." See Elk Grove Unified School Dist. v. Newdow, 542 [730] U. S. 1, 45, 50, 51 (2004) (Thomas, J., concurring in judgment); cf. A. Amar, The Bill of Rights 36-39 (1998). Under this view, not only could a State constitutionally adorn all of its public spaces with crucifixes or passages from the New Testament, it would also have full authority to prescribe the teachings of Martin Luther or Joseph Smith as the official state religion. Only the Federal Government would be prohibited from taking sides (and only then as between Christian sects).

A reading of the First Amendment dependent on either of the purported original meanings expressed above would eviscerate the heart of the Establishment Clause. It would replace Jefferson's "wall of separation" with a perverse wall of exclusion—Christians inside, non-Christians out. It would permit States to construct walls of their own choosing—Baptists inside, Mormons out; Jewish Orthodox inside, Jewish Reform out. A Clause so understood might be faithful to the expectations of some of our Founders, but it is plainly not worthy of a society whose enviable hallmark over the course of two centuries has been the continuing expansion of religious pluralism and tolerance. Cf. Abington, 374 U. S., at 214; Zelman v. Simmons-Harris, 536 U. S. 639, 720, 723 (2002) (Breyer, J., dissenting).

Unless one is willing to renounce over 65 years of Establishment Clause jurisprudence and cross back over the incorporation bridge, see Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U. S. 296, 303 (1940), appeals to the religiosity of the Framers ring hollow.[45] But even if there were a coherent way to embrace [731] incorporation with one hand while steadfastly abiding by the Founders' purported religious views on the other, the problem of the selective use of history remains. As the widely divergent views espoused by the leaders of our founding era plainly reveal, the historical record of the preincorporation Establishment Clause is too indeterminate to serve as an interpretive North Star.[46]

It is our duty, therefore, to interpret the First Amendment's command that "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion" not by merely asking what those words meant to observers at the time of the founding, but instead by deriving from the Clause's text and history the broad principles that remain valid today. As we have said in the context of statutory interpretation, legislation "often [goes] beyond the principal evil [at which the statute was aimed] to cover reasonably comparable evils, and it is ultimately the provisions of our laws rather than the principal [732] concerns of our legislators by which we are governed." Oncale v. Sundowner Offshore Services, Inc., 523 U. S. 75, 79 (1998). In similar fashion, we have construed the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment to prohibit segregated schools, see Brown v. Board of Education, 349 U. S. 294 (1955), even though those who drafted that Amendment evidently thought that separate was not unequal.[47] We have held that the same Amendment prohibits discrimination against individuals on account of their gender, Frontiero v. Richardson, 411 U. S. 677 (1973), despite the fact that the contemporaries of the Amendment "doubt[ed] very much whether any action of a State not directed by way of discrimination against the negroes as a class, or on account of their race, will ever be held to come within the purview of this provision," Slaughter-House Cases, 16 Wall. 36, 81 (1873). And we have construed "evolving standards of decency" to make impermissible practices that were not considered "cruel and unusual" at the founding. See Roper v. Simmons, 543 U. S. 551, 587 (2005) (Stevens, J., concurring).

To reason from the broad principles contained in the Constitution does not, as JUSTICE SCALIA suggests, require us to abandon our heritage in favor of unprincipled expressions of personal preference. The task of applying the broad principles that the Framers wrote into the text of the First Amendment is, in any event, no more a matter of personal preference than is one's selection between two (or more) sides in a heated historical debate. We serve our constitutional mandate by expounding the meaning of constitutional provisions with one eye toward our Nation's history and the other fixed on its democratic aspirations. See McCulloch v. [733] Maryland, 4 Wheat. 316, 407, 415 (1819) ("[W]e must never forget, that it is a constitution we are expounding" that is intended to "endure for ages to come, and, consequently, to be adapted to the various crises of human affairs"). Constitutions, after all,

"are not ephemeral enactments, designed to meet passing occasions. They are, to use the words of Chief Justice Marshall, `designed to approach immortality as nearly as human institutions can approach it.' The future is their care and provision for events of good and bad tendencies of which no prophecy can be made. In the application of a constitution, therefore, our contemplation cannot be only of what has been but of what may be. Under any other rule a constitution would indeed be as easy of application as it would be deficient in efficacy and power. Its general principles would have little value and be converted by precedent into impotent and lifeless formulas." Weems v. United States, 217 U. S. 349, 373 (1910).

The principle that guides my analysis is neutrality.[48] The basis for that principle is firmly rooted in our Nation's [734] history and our Constitution's text. I recognize that the requirement that government must remain neutral between religion and irreligion would have seemed foreign to some of the Framers; so too would a requirement of neutrality between Jews and Christians. But cf. Letter from George Washington to the Hebrew Congregation in Newport, R. I. (Aug. 18, 1790), in 6 Papers of George Washington 284, 285 (D. Twohig ed. 1996). Fortunately, we are not bound by the Framers' expectations—we are bound by the legal principles they enshrined in our Constitution. Story's vision that States should not discriminate between Christian sects has as its foundation the principle that government must remain neutral between valid systems of belief. As religious pluralism has expanded, so has our acceptance of what constitutes valid belief systems. The evil of discriminating today against atheists, "polytheists[,] and believers in unconcerned deities," McCreary County, post, at 893 (Scalia, J., dissenting), is in my view a direct descendent of the evil of discriminating among Christian sects. The Establishment Clause [735] thus forbids it and, in turn, prohibits Texas from displaying the Ten Commandments monument the plurality so casually affirms.

IV

The Eagles may donate as many monuments as they choose to be displayed in front of Protestant churches, benevolent organizations' meeting places, or on the front lawns of private citizens. The expurgated text of the King James version of the Ten Commandments that they have crafted is unlikely to be accepted by Catholic parishes, Jewish synagogues, or even some Protestant denominations, but the message they seek to convey is surely more compatible with church property than with property that is located on the government side of the metaphorical wall.

The judgment of the Court in this case stands for the proposition that the Constitution permits governmental displays of sacred religious texts. This makes a mockery of the constitutional ideal that government must remain neutral between religion and irreligion. If a State may endorse a particular deity's command to "have no other gods before me," it is difficult to conceive of any textual display that would run afoul of the Establishment Clause.

The disconnect between this Court's approval of Texas' monument and the constitutional prohibition against preferring religion to irreligion cannot be reduced to the exercise of plotting two adjacent locations on a slippery slope. Cf. ante, at 704 (Breyer, J., concurring in judgment). Rather, it is the difference between the shelter of a fortress and exposure to "the winds that would blow" if the wall were allowed to crumble. See TVA v. Hill, 437 U. S. 153, 195 (1978) (internal quotation marks omitted). That wall, however imperfect, remains worth preserving.

I respectfully dissent.

[Appendix to opinion of STEVENS, J., follows this page.]

[736] APPENDIX TO OPINION OF STEVENS, J.

[737] JUSTICE O'CONNOR, dissenting.

For essentially the reasons given by JUSTICE SOUTER, post this page (dissenting opinion), as well as the reasons given in my concurrence in McCreary County v. American Civil Liberties Union of Ky., post, p. 881, I respectfully dissent.

JUSTICE SOUTER, with whom JUSTICE STEVENS and JUSTICE GINSBURG join, dissenting.

Although the First Amendment's Religion Clauses have not been read to mandate absolute governmental neutrality toward religion, cf. Sherbert v. Verner, 374 U. S. 398 (1963), the Establishment Clause requires neutrality as a general rule, e.g., Everson v. Board of Ed. of Ewing, 330 U. S. 1, 18 (1947), and thus expresses Madison's condemnation of "employ[ing] Religion as an engine of Civil policy," Memorial and Remonstrance Against Religious Assessments, 2 Writings of James Madison 183, 187 (G. Hunt ed. 1901). A governmental display of an obviously religious text cannot be squared with neutrality, except in a setting that plausibly indicates that the statement is not placed in view with a predominant purpose on the part of government either to adopt the religious message or to urge its acceptance by others.

Until today, only one of our cases addressed the constitutionality of posting the Ten Commandments, Stone v. Graham, 449 U. S. 39, 41-42 (1980) (per curiam). A Kentucky statute required posting the Commandments on the walls of public school classrooms, and the Court described the State's purpose (relevant under the tripartite test laid out in Lemon v. Kurtzman, 403 U. S. 602 (1971)) as being at odds with the obligation of religious neutrality.

"The pre-eminent purpose for posting the Ten Commandments on schoolroom walls is plainly religious in nature. The Ten Commandments are undeniably a sacred text in the Jewish and Christian faiths, and no legislative recitation of a supposed secular purpose can blind us to that fact. The Commandments do not confine [738] themselves to arguably secular matters, such as honoring one's parents, killing or murder, adultery, stealing, false witness, and covetousness. Rather, the first part of the Commandments concerns the religious duties of believers: worshipping the Lord God alone, avoiding idolatry, not using the Lord's name in vain, and observing the Sabbath Day." 449 U. S., at 41-42 (footnote and citations omitted).

What these observations underscore are the simple realities that the Ten Commandments constitute a religious statement, that their message is inherently religious, and that the purpose of singling them out in a display is clearly the same.[49]

Thus, a pedestrian happening upon the monument at issue here needs no training in religious doctrine to realize that the statement of the Commandments, quoting God himself, proclaims that the will of the divine being is the source of obligation to obey the rules, including the facially secular ones. In this case, moreover, the text is presented to give particular prominence to the Commandments' first sectarian [739] reference, "I am the Lord thy God." That proclamation is centered on the stone and written in slightly larger letters than the subsequent recitation. To ensure that the religious nature of the monument is clear to even the most casual passerby, the word "Lord" appears in all capital letters (as does the word "am"), so that the most eye-catching segment of the quotation is the declaration "I AM the LORD thy God." App. to Pet. for Cert. 21. What follows, of course, are the rules against other gods, graven images, vain swearing, and Sabbath breaking. And the full text of the fifth Commandment puts forward filial respect as a condition of long life in the land "which the Lord thy God giveth thee." See ibid. These "words . . . make [the] religious meaning unmistakably clear." County of Allegheny v. American Civil Liberties Union, Greater Pittsburgh Chapter, 492 U. S. 573, 598 (1989).

To drive the religious point home, and identify the message as religious to any viewer who failed to read the text, the engraved quotation is framed by religious symbols: two tablets with what appears to be ancient script on them, two Stars of David, and the superimposed Greek letters Chi and Rho as the familiar monogram of Christ. Nothing on the monument, in fact, detracts from its religious nature,[50] see ibid. ("Here, unlike in Lynch [v. Donnelly, 465 U. S. 668 (1984)], nothing in the context of the display detracts from the crèche's religious message"), and the plurality does not suggest otherwise. It would therefore be difficult to miss the point that the government of Texas[51] is telling everyone [740] who sees the monument to live up to a moral code because God requires it, with both code and conception of God being rightly understood as the inheritances specifically of Jews and Christians. And it is likewise unsurprising that the District Court expressly rejected Texas's argument that the State's purpose in placing the monument on the Capitol grounds was related to the Commandments' role as "part of the foundation of modern secular law in Texas and elsewhere." App. to Pet. for Cert. 32.

The monument's presentation of the Commandments with religious text emphasized and enhanced stands in contrast to any number of perfectly constitutional depictions of them, the frieze of our own Courtroom providing a good example, where the figure of Moses stands among history's great lawgivers. While Moses holds the tablets of the Commandments showing some Hebrew text, no one looking at the lines of figures in marble relief is likely to see a religious purpose behind the assemblage or take away a religious message from it. Only one other depiction represents a religious leader, and the historical personages are mixed with symbols of moral and intellectual abstractions like Equity and Authority. See County of Allegheny, supra, at 652 (STEVENS, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part). Since Moses enjoys no especial prominence on the frieze, viewers can readily take him to be there as a lawgiver in the company of other lawgivers; and the viewers may just as naturally see the tablets of the Commandments (showing the later ones, forbidding things like killing and theft, but without the divine preface) as background from which the concept of law [741] emerged, ultimately having a secular influence in the history of the Nation. Government may, of course, constitutionally call attention to this influence, and may post displays or erect monuments recounting this aspect of our history no less than any other, so long as there is a context and that context is historical. Hence, a display of the Commandments accompanied by an exposition of how they have influenced modern law would most likely be constitutionally unobjectionable.[52] [742] And the Decalogue could, as Stone suggested, be integrated constitutionally into a course of study in public schools. 449 U. S., at 42.[53]

Texas seeks to take advantage of the recognition that visual symbol and written text can manifest a secular purpose in secular company, when it argues that its monument (like Moses in the frieze) is not alone and ought to be viewed as only 1 among 17 placed on the 22 acres surrounding the State Capitol. Texas, indeed, says that the Capitol grounds are like a museum for a collection of exhibits, the kind of setting that several Members of the Court have said can render the exhibition of religious artifacts permissible, even though in other circumstances their display would be seen as meant to convey a religious message forbidden to the State. County of Allegheny, 492 U. S., at 595 (opinion of Blackmun, J., joined by STEVENS, J.); Lynch v. Donnelly, 465 U. S. 668, 692 (1984) (O'CONNOR, J., concurring). So, for example, the Government of the United States does not violate the Establishment Clause by hanging Giotto's Madonna on the wall of the National Gallery.

But 17 monuments with no common appearance, history, or esthetic role scattered over 22 acres is not a museum, and anyone strolling around the lawn would surely take each memorial on its own terms without any dawning sense that some purpose held the miscellany together more coherently [743] than fortuity and the edge of the grass. One monument expresses admiration for pioneer women. One pays respect to the fighters of World War II. And one quotes the God of Abraham whose command is the sanction for moral law. The themes are individual grit, patriotic courage, and God as the source of Jewish and Christian morality; there is no common denominator. In like circumstances, we rejected an argument similar to the State's, noting in County of Allegheny that "[t]he presence of Santas or other Christmas decorations elsewhere in the . . . [c]ourthouse, and of the nearby gallery forum, fail to negate the [crèche's] endorsement effect. . . . The record demonstrates . . . that the crèche, with its floral frame, was its own display distinct from any other decorations or exhibitions in the building." 492 U. S., at 598-599, n. 48.[54]

If the State's museum argument does nothing to blunt the religious message and manifestly religious purpose behind it, neither does the plurality's reliance on generalities culled from cases factually different from this one. E.g., ante, at 687 ("We have acknowledged, for example, that `religion has been closely identified with our history and government,' School Dist. of Abington Township v. Schempp, 374 U. S., at 212, and that `[t]he history of man is inseparable from the [744] history of religion,' Engel v. Vitale, 370 U. S. 421, 434 (1962)"). In fact, it is not until the end of its opinion that the plurality turns to the relevant precedent of Stone, a case actually dealing with a display of the Decalogue.

When the plurality finally does confront Stone, it tries to avoid the case's obvious applicability by limiting its holding to the classroom setting. The plurality claims to find authority for limiting Stone's reach this way in the opinion's citations of two school-prayer cases, School Dist. of Abington Township v. Schempp, 374 U. S. 203 (1963), and Engel v. Vitale, 370 U. S. 421 (1962). But Stone relied on those cases for widely applicable notions, not for any concept specific to schools. The opinion quoted Schempp's statements that "it is no defense to urge that the religious practices here may be relatively minor encroachments on the First Amendment," Schempp, supra, at 225, quoted in Stone, 449 U. S., at 42; and that "the place of the Bible as an instrument of religion cannot be gainsaid," Schempp, supra, at 224, quoted in Stone, supra, at 41, n. 3. And Engel was cited to support the proposition that the State was responsible for displaying the Commandments, even though their framed, printed texts were bought with private subscriptions. Stone, supra, at 42 ("[T]he mere posting of the [Commandments] under the auspices of the legislature provides the official support of the State Government that the Establishment Clause prohibits" (ellipsis and internal quotation marks omitted)). Thus, the schoolroom was beside the point of the citations, and that is presumably why the Stone Court failed to discuss the educational setting, as other opinions had done when school was significant. E.g., Edwards v. Aguillard, 482 U. S. 578, 584 (1987). Stone did not, for example, speak of children's impressionability or their captivity as an audience in a school class. In fact, Stone's reasoning reached the classroom only in noting the lack of support for the claim that the State had brought the Commandments into schools in order to "integrat[e] [them] into the school curriculum." 449 U. S., at 42. [745] Accordingly, our numerous prior discussions of Stone have never treated its holding as restricted to the classroom.[55]

Nor can the plurality deflect Stone by calling the Texas monument "a far more passive use of [the Decalogue] than was the case in Stone, where the text confronted elementary school students every day." Ante, at 691. Placing a monument on the ground is not more "passive" than hanging a sheet of paper on a wall when both contain the same text to be read by anyone who looks at it. The problem in Stone was simply that the State was putting the Commandments there to be seen, just as the monument's inscription is there for those who walk by it.

To be sure, Kentucky's compulsory-education law meant that the schoolchildren were forced to see the display every day, whereas many see the monument by choice, and those who customarily walk the Capitol grounds can presumably avoid it if they choose. But in my judgment (and under our often inexact Establishment Clause jurisprudence, such matters often boil down to judgment, see ante, at 700 (BREYER, J., concurring in judgment)), this distinction should make no difference. The monument in this case sits on the grounds of the Texas State Capitol. There is something significant in the common term "statehouse" to refer to a state capitol building: it is the civic home of every one of the State's citizens. If neutrality in religion means something, any citizen should be able to visit that civic home without having to confront religious expressions clearly meant to convey an official religious position that may be at odds with his own [746] religion, or with rejection of religion. See County of Allegheny, 492 U. S., at 626 (O'CONNOR, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment) ("I agree that the crèche displayed on the Grand Staircase of the Allegheny County Courthouse, the seat of county government, conveys a message to nonadherents of Christianity that they are not full members of the political community. . . . The display of religious symbols in public areas of core government buildings runs a special risk of making religion relevant, in reality or public perception, to status in the political community" (alteration and internal quotation marks omitted)).

Finally, though this too is a point on which judgment will vary, I do not see a persuasive argument for constitutionality in the plurality's observation that Van Orden's lawsuit comes "[f]orty years after the monument's erection . . .," ante, at 682, an observation that echoes the State's contention that one fact cutting in its favor is that "the monument had stood in Austin . . . for some forty years without generating any controversy or litigation," Brief for Respondents 25. It is not that I think the passage of time is necessarily irrelevant in Establishment Clause analysis. We have approved framing-era practices because they must originally have been understood as constitutionally permissible, e.g., Marsh v. Chambers, 463 U. S. 783 (1983) (legislative prayer), and we have recognized that Sunday laws have grown recognizably secular over time, McGowan v. Maryland, 366 U. S. 420 (1961). There is also an analogous argument, not yet evaluated, that ritualistic religious expression can become so numbing over time that its initial Establishment Clause violation becomes at some point too diminished for notice. But I do not understand any of these to be the State's argument, which rather seems to be that 40 years without a challenge shows that as a factual matter the religious expression is too tepid to provoke a serious reaction and constitute a violation. Perhaps, but the writer of Exodus chapter 20 was not lukewarm, and other explanations may do better in accounting [747] for the late resort to the courts. Suing a State over religion puts nothing in a plaintiff's pocket and can take a great deal out, and even with volunteer litigators to supply time and energy, the risk of social ostracism can be powerfully deterrent. I doubt that a slow walk to the courthouse, even one that took 40 years, is much evidentiary help in applying the Establishment Clause.

I would reverse the judgment of the Court of Appeals.

-----------

[1] Briefs of amici curiae urging reversal were filed for American Atheists by Robert J. Bruno; for the American Humanist Association et al. by Elizabeth L. Hileman; for the American Jewish Congress et al. by Marc D. Stern and Jeffrey Sinensky; for Americans United for Separation of Church and State et al. by Ian Heath Gershengorn, William M. Hohengarten, Ayesha Khan, Richard B. Katskee, Elliot M. Mincberg, and Judith E. Schaeffer; for the Anti-Defamation League et al. by Jeffrey R. Babbin, Aaron S. Bayer, Kenneth D. Heath, Frederick M. Lawrence, Daniel S. Alter, and Steven M. Freeman; for the Baptist Joint Committee et al. by Douglas Laycock and K. Hollyn Hollman; for the Council for Secular Humanism by Edward Tabash; for the Freedom from Religion Foundation by James A. Friedman and James D. Peterson; and for the Hindu American Foundation et al. by Henry C. Dinger, Jeffrey A. Simes, Keith A. Zullow, Aseem V. Mehta, and Jessica Jamieson.

Briefs of amici curiae urging affirmance were filed for the State of Indiana et al. by Steve Carter, Attorney General of Indiana, Thomas M. Fisher, and Rebecca Walker, Deputy Attorney General, and by the Attorneys General for their respective States as follows: Troy King of Alabama, Terry Goddard of Arizona, Mike Beebe of Arkansas, Charles J. Crist, Jr., of Florida, Lawrence G. Wasden of Idaho, Phill Kline of Kansas, Gregory D. Stumbo of Kentucky, Charles C. Foti, Jr., of Louisiana, Jim Hood of Mississippi, Wayne Stenehjem of North Dakota, Jim Petro of Ohio, Gerald J. Pappert of Pennsylvania, Henry McMaster of South Carolina, Lawrence E. Long of South Dakota, Mark L. Shurtleff of Utah, Jerry W. Kilgore of Virginia, and Patrick J. Crank of Wyoming; for the American Center for Law and Justice by Jay Alan Sekulow, Stuart J. Roth, Francis J. Manion, and Walter M. Weber; for the American Family Association Center for Law & Policy by Stephen M. Crampton, Brian Fahling, and Michael J. DePrimo; for the Becket Fund for Religious Liberty by Anthony R. Picarello, Jr.; for the Claremont Institute Center for Constitutional Jurisprudence by John C. Eastman and Edwin Meese III; for the Eagle Forum Education & Legal Defense Fund by Douglas G. Smith and Phyllis Schlafly; for the Ethics and Public Policy Center by Mark A. Perry; for the Foundation for Moral Law, Inc., by Benjamin D. DuPré and Gregory M. Jones; for the Fraternal Order of Eagles by Kelly Shackelford and George A. Miller; for the National Jewish Commission on Law and Public Affairs by Nathan Lewin, Alyza D. Lewin, Dennis Rapps, David Zwiebel, and Nathan J. Diament; for the Pacific Justice Institute by Peter D. Lepiscopo; for the Rutherford Institute by John W. Whitehead; and for Janet Napolitano et al. by Len L. Munsil.

Briefs of amici curiae were filed for the Atheist Law Center et al. by Pamela L. Sumners and Larry Darby; for the Chester County Historic Preservation Network by Alfred W. Putnam, Jr.; for Faith and Action et al. by Bernard P. Reese, Jr.; for Focus on the Family et al. by Benjamin W. Bull and Jordan W. Lorence; for the Thomas More Law Center by Edward L. White III; and for Wallbuilders, Inc., by Barry C. Hodge.

[2] The monuments are: Heroes of the Alamo, Hood's Brigade, Confederate Soldiers, Volunteer Fireman, Terry's Texas Rangers, Texas Cowboy, Spanish-American War, Texas National Guard, Ten Commandments, Tribute to Texas School Children, Texas Pioneer Woman, The Boy Scouts' Statue of Liberty Replica, Pearl Harbor Veterans, Korean War Veterans, Soldiers of World War I, Disabled Veterans, and Texas Peace Officers.

[3] See also Engel v. Vitale, 370 U. S. 421, 434 (1962) ("The history of man is inseparable from the history of religion"); Zorach v. Clauson, 343 U. S. 306, 313 (1952) ("We are a religious people whose institutions presuppose a Supreme Being").

[4] Despite JUSTICE STEVENS' recitation of occasional language to the contrary, post, at 710-711, and n. 7 (dissenting opinion), we have not, and do not, adhere to the principle that the Establishment Clause bars any and all governmental preference for religion over irreligion. See, e.g., Cutter v. Wilkinson, 544 U. S. 709 (2005); Corporation of Presiding Bishop of Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints v. Amos, 483 U. S. 327 (1987); Lynch v. Donnelly, 465 U. S. 668 (1984); Marsh v. Chambers, 463 U. S. 783 (1983); Walz v. Tax Comm'n of City of New York, 397 U. S. 664 (1970). Even the dissenters do not claim that the First Amendment's Religion Clauses forbid all governmental acknowledgments, preferences, or accommodations of religion. See post, at 711 (opinion of Stevens, J.) (recognizing that the Establishment Clause permits some "recognition" or "acknowledgment" of religion); post, at 740-741, and n. 4 (opinion of SOUTER, J.) (discussing a number of permissible displays with religious content).

[5] Zelman v. Simmons-Harris, 536 U. S. 639 (2002) (upholding school voucher program); Good News Club v. Milford Central School, 533 U. S. 98 (2001) (holding that allowing religious school groups to use school facilities does not violate the Establishment Clause); Agostini v. Felton, 521 U. S. 203 (1997) (approving a program that provided public employees to teach remedial classes at religious and other private schools), overruling Aguilar v. Felton, 473 U. S. 402 (1985) (barring public school teachers from going to parochial schools to provide remedial education to disadvantaged children), and School Dist. of Grand Rapids v. Ball, 473 U. S. 373 (1985) (striking down a program that provided classes to religious school students at public expense in classrooms leased from religious schools); Rosenberger v. Rector and Visitors of Univ. of Va., 515 U. S. 819 (1995) (holding that the Establishment Clause does not bar disbursement of funds from student activity fees to religious organizations); Zobrest v. Catalina Foothills School Dist., 509 U. S. 1 (1993) (allowing a public school district to provide a sign-language interpreter to a deaf student at a Catholic high school as part of a federal program for the disabled); Lynch v. Donnelly, supra (upholding a Christmas display including a crèche); Marsh v. Chambers, supra (upholding legislative prayer); Mueller v. Allen, 463 U. S. 388 (1983) (upholding tax deduction for certain expenses incurred in sending one's child to a religious school).

[6] Santa Fe Independent School Dist. v. Doe, 530 U. S. 290 (2000) (holding unconstitutional student-initiated and student-led prayer at school football games); Board of Ed. of Kiryas Joel Village School Dist. v. Grumet, 512 U. S. 687 (1994) (invalidating a state law that created a new school district for a single religious community); Lee v. Weisman, 505 U. S. 577 (1992) (prohibiting officially sponsored graduation prayers); County of Allegheny v. American Civil Liberties Union, Greater Pittsburgh Chapter, 492 U. S. 573 (1989) (holding the display of a crèche in a courthouse unconstitutional but allowing the display of a menorah outside a county building); Texas Monthly, Inc. v. Bullock, 489 U. S. 1 (1989) (plurality opinion) (invalidating a sales tax exemption for all religious periodicals); Edwards v. Aguillard, 482 U. S. 578 (1987) (invalidating a law mandating the teaching of creationism if evolution was taught); Estate of Thornton v. Caldor, Inc., 472 U. S. 703 (1985) (invalidating state law that gave employees an absolute right not to work on their Sabbath); Wallace v. Jaffree, 472 U. S. 38 (1985) (invalidating law mandating a daily minute of silence for meditation or voluntary prayer).

[7] Lemon sets out a three-prong test: "First, the statute must have a secular legislative purpose; second, its principal or primary effect must be one that neither advances nor inhibits religion; finally, the statute must not foster `an excessive government entanglement with religion.'" 403 U. S., at 612-613 (citation omitted).

[8] See also Elk Grove Unified School Dist. v. Newdow, 542 U. S. 1, 26 (2004) (Rehnquist, C. J., concurring in judgment) ("Examples of patriotic invocations of God and official acknowledgments of religion's role in our Nation's history abound"); id., at 35-36 (O'Connor, J., concurring in judgment) ("It is unsurprising that a Nation founded by religious refugees and dedicated to religious freedom should find references to divinity in its symbols, songs, mottoes, and oaths"); Lynch v. Donnelly, 465 U. S., at 675 ("Our history is replete with official references to the value and invocation of Divine guidance").

[9] Indeed, we rejected the claim that an Establishment Clause violation was presented because the prayers had once been offered in the Judeo-Christian tradition: In Marsh, the prayers were often explicitly Christian, but the chaplain removed all references to Christ the year after the suit was filed. 463 U. S., at 793-794, and n. 14.

[10] Other examples of monuments and buildings reflecting the prominent role of religion abound. For example, the Washington, Jefferson, and Lincoln Memorials all contain explicit invocations of God's importance. The apex of the Washington Monument is inscribed "Laus Deo," which is translated to mean "Praise be to God," and multiple memorial stones in the monument contain Biblical citations. The Jefferson Memorial is engraved with three quotes from Jefferson that make God a central theme. Inscribed on the wall of the Lincoln Memorial are two of Lincoln's most famous speeches, the Gettysburg Address and his Second Inaugural Address. Both inscriptions include those speeches' extensive acknowledgments of God. The first federal monument, which was accepted by the United States in honor of sailors who died in Tripoli, noted the dates of the fallen sailors as "the year of our Lord, 1804, and in the 28 year of the independence of the United States."

[11] See also Edwards v. Aguillard, 482 U. S., at 593-594; Lynch v. Donnelly, 465 U. S., at 677-678; id., at 691 (O'Connor, J., concurring); County of Allegheny v. American Civil Liberties Union, Greater Pittsburgh Chapter, 492 U. S., at 652-653 (Stevens, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part); Stone v. Graham, 449 U. S. 39, 45 (1980) (REHNQUIST, J., dissenting).

[12] Nor does anything suggest that Stone would extend to displays of the Ten Commandments that lack a "plainly religious," "pre-eminent purpose," id., at 41. See Edwards v. Aguillard, supra, at 593-594 ("[Stone] did not mean that no use could ever be made of the Ten Commandments, or that the Ten Commandments played an exclusively religious role in the history of Western Civilization"). Indeed, we need not decide in this case the extent to which a primarily religious purpose would affect our analysis because it is clear from the record that there is no evidence of such a purpose in this case.

[13] See, e.g., County of Allegheny v. American Civil Liberties Union, Greater Pittsburgh Chapter, 492 U. S. 573, 592-594 (1989) (employing endorsement test); Lemon v. Kurtzman, 403 U. S. 602, 612-613 (1971) (setting forth three-pronged test); Marsh v. Chambers, 463 U. S. 783, 790-792 (1983) (upholding legislative prayer due to its "unique history"); see also Lynch v. Donnelly, 465 U. S. 668, 679-681 (1984) ("[W]e have repeatedly emphasized our unwillingness to be confined to any single test or criterion in this sensitive area").

[14] At the bottom of the message, the observer learns that the display was "[p]resented to the people and youth of Texas by the Fraternal Order of Eagles of Texas" in 1961. See Appendix, infra.

[15] Reynolds v. United States, 98 U. S. 145, 164 (1879); see also Everson v. Board of Ed. of Ewing, 330 U. S. 1, 16 (1947).

[16] As Senator Danforth recently reminded us, "efforts to haul references of God into the public square, into schools and courthouses, are far more apt to divide Americans than to advance faith." Danforth, Onward, Moderate Christian Soldiers, N. Y. Times, June 17, 2005, p. A27.

[17] The accuracy and utility of this metaphor have been called into question. See, e.g., Wallace v. Jaffree, 472 U. S. 38, 106 (1985) (REHNQUIST, J., dissenting); see generally P. Hamburger, Separation of Church and State (2002). Whatever one may think of the merits of the historical debate surrounding Jefferson and the "wall" metaphor, this Court at a minimum has never questioned the concept of the "separation of church and state" in our First Amendment jurisprudence. THE CHIEF JUSTICE'S opinion affirms that principle. Ante, at 683 (demanding a "separation between church and state"). Indeed, even the Court that famously opined that "[w]e are a religious people whose institutions presuppose a Supreme Being," Zorach v. Clauson, 343 U. S. 306, 313 (1952), acknowledged that "[t]here cannot be the slightest doubt that the First Amendment reflects the philosophy that Church and State should be separated," id., at 312. The question we face is how to give meaning to that concept of separation.

[18] There is now widespread consensus on this principle. See Everson, 330 U. S., at 15 ("Neither a state nor the Federal Government . . . can pass laws which aid one religion, aid all religions, or prefer one religion over another"); School Dist. of Abington Township v. Schempp, 374 U. S. 203, 226 (1963) ("In the relationship between man and religion, the State is firmly committed to a position of neutrality"); Larson v. Valente, 456 U. S. 228, 244 (1982) ("The clearest command of the Establishment Clause is that one religious denomination cannot be officially preferred over another"); see also Board of Ed. of Kiryas Joel Village School Dist. v. Grumet, 512 U. S. 687, 748 (1994) (Scalia, J., dissenting) ("I have always believed . . . that the Establishment Clause prohibits the favoring of one religion over others"); but see Church of Holy Trinity v. United States, 143 U. S. 457, 470-471 (1892).

[19] In support of this proposition, the Torcaso Court quoted James Iredell, who in the course of debating the adoption of the Federal Constitution in North Carolina, stated: "`[I]t is objected that the people of America may, perhaps, choose representatives who have no religion at all, and that pagans and Mahometans may be admitted into offices. But how is it possible to exclude any set of men, without taking away that principle of religious freedom which we ourselves so warmly contend for?'" 367 U. S., at 495, n. 10 (quoting 4 J. Elliot, Debates in the Several State Conventions on the Adoption of the Federal Constitution 194 (2d ed. 1891)).

[20] See Everson, 330 U. S., at 18 (the Establishment Clause "requires the state to be . . . neutral in its relations with groups of religious believers and non-believers"); Abington, 374 U. S., at 216 (rejecting the proposition that the Establishment Clause "forbids only governmental preference of one religion over another"); Wallace, 472 U. S., at 52-55 (the interest in "forestalling intolerance extends beyond intolerance among Christian sects — or even intolerance among `religions' — to encompass intolerance of the disbeliever and the uncertain"); cf. Zorach, 343 U. S., at 325 (Jackson, J., dissenting) ("The day that this country ceases to be free for irreligion it will cease to be free for religion — except for the sect that can win political power").

[21] JUSTICE SCALIA'S dissent in the other Ten Commandments case we decide today, see McCreary County v. American Civil Liberties Union of Ky., post, at 885-894, raises similar objections. I address these objections directly in Part III.

[22] Though this Court has subscribed to the view that the Ten Commandments influenced the development of Western legal thought, it has not officially endorsed the far more specific claim that the Ten Commandments played a significant role in the development of our Nation's foundational documents (and the subsidiary implication that it has special relevance to Texas). Although it is perhaps an overstatement to characterize this latter proposition as "idiotic," see Tr. of Oral Arg. 34, as one Member of the plurality has done, at the very least the question is a matter of intense scholarly debate. Compare Brief for Legal Historians and Law Scholars as Amicus Curiae in McCreary County v. American Civil Liberties Union of Ky., O. T. 2004, No. 03-1693, with Brief for American Center for Law and Justice as Amicus Curiae. Whatever the historical accuracy of the proposition, the District Court categorically rejected respondents' suggestion that the State's actual purpose in displaying the Decalogue was to signify its influence on secular law and Texas institutions. App. to Pet. for Cert. 32.

[23] See Brief for Fraternal Order of Eagles as Amicus Curiae 2-3. The Order was formed in 1898 by six Seattle theater owners, promptly joined by actors, playwrights, and stagehands, and rapidly expanded to include a nationwide membership numbering over a million. Id., at 1-2; see also Fraternal Order of Eagles, Tenino Aerie No. 564 v. Grand Aerie of Fraternal Order of Eagles, 148 Wash. 2d 224, 229, 59 P. 3d 655, 657 (2002) (en banc); Lahmann v. Grand Aerie of Fraternal Order of Eagles, 180 Ore. App. 420, 422, 43 P. 3d 1130, 1131 (2002).

[24] See Books v. Elkhart, 235 F. 3d 292, 294-295 (CA7 2000); State v. Freedom from Religion Foundation, Inc., 898 P. 2d 1013, 1017 (Colo. 1995) (en banc); see also U. S. Supreme Court will hear Ten Commandments Case in Early 2005, http://www.foe.com/tencommandments/index.html (all Internet materials as visited June 24, 2005, and available in Clerk of Court's case file).

[25] Brief for Fraternal Order of Eagles as Amicus Curiae 4; Freedom from Religion Foundation, 898 P. 2d, at 1017; accord, Tex. S. Con. Res. 16, 57th Leg., Reg. Sess. (1961) ("These plaques and monoliths have been presented by the Eagles to promote youth morality and to help stop the alarming increase in delinquency").

[26] According to its articles of incorporation, the Eagles' purpose is to: "`[U]nite fraternally for mutual benefit, protection, improvement, social enjoyment and association, all persons of good moral character who believe in a Supreme Being to inculcate the principles of liberty, truth, justice and equality . . . .'" Fraternal Order of Eagles, 148 Wash. 2d, at 229, 59 P. 3d, at 657. See also Aerie Membership Application-Fraternal Order of Eagles, http://www.foe.com/membership/applications/aerie.html ("I, being of sound body and mind, and believing in the existence of a Supreme Being . . .").

[27] In County of Allegheny v. American Civil Liberties Union, Greater Pittsburgh Chapter, 492 U. S. 573 (1989), I noted that certain displays of religious images may convey "an equivocal message, perhaps of respect for Judaism, for religion in general, or for law." Id., at 652 (opinion concurring in part and dissenting in part). It is rather misleading, however, to quote my comment in that case to imply that I was referring to the text of the Ten Commandments simpliciter. See McCreary County, post, at 904.

[28] See ante, at 701 (Breyer, J., concurring in judgment). Despite the Eagles' efforts, not all of the monuments they donated in fact conform to a "universally-accepted" text. Compare, e.g., Appendix, infra (including the command that "Thou shalt not make to thyself any graven images"), and Adland v. Russ, 307 F. 3d 471, 475 (CA6 2002) (same), with Freedom from Religion Foundation, 898 P. 2d, at 1016 (omitting that command altogether). The distinction represents a critical divide between the Protestant and Catholic faiths. During the Reformation, Protestants destroyed images of the Virgin Mary and of Jesus Christ that were venerated in Catholic churches. Even today there is a notable difference between the imagery in different churches, a difference that may in part be attributable to differing understandings of the meaning of what is the Second Commandment in the King James Bible translation and a portion of the First Commandment in the Catholic translation. See Finkelman, The Ten Commandments on the Courthouse Lawn and Elsewhere, 73 Ford. L. Rev. 1477, 1493-1494 (2005) (hereinafter Finkelman).

[29] For example, in the Jewish version of the Sixth Commandment God commands: "You shall not murder"; whereas, the King James interpretation of the same command is: "Thou shalt not kill." Compare W. Plaut, The Torah: A Modern Commentary 534 (1981), with Appendix, infra. The difference between the two versions is not merely semantic; rather, it is but one example of a deep theological dispute. See Finkelman 1481-1500; Maier, Enumerating the Decalogue: Do We Number the Ten Commandments Correctly? 16 Concordia J. 18, 18-26 (1990). Varying interpretations of this Commandment explain the actions of vegetarians who refuse to eat meat, pacifists who refuse to work for munitions makers, prison officials who refuse to administer lethal injections to death row inmates, and pharmacists who refuse to sell morning-after pills to women. See Finkelman 1494-1496; Brief for American Jewish Congress et al. as Amici Curiae 22-23. Although the command is ambiguous, its power to motivate like-minded interpreters of its message cannot be denied.

[30] JUSTICE SCALIA'S willingness to dismiss the distinct textual versions adhered to by different faiths in the name of generic "monotheism" based on mere speculation regarding their significance, McCreary County, post, at 909, is not only somewhat ironic, see A. Scalia, A Matter of Interpretation 23-25 (1997), but also serves to reinforce the concern that interjecting government into the religious sphere will offend "adherents who consider the particular advertisement disrespectful," Allegheny County, 492 U. S., at 651 (Stevens, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part).

[31] See Brief for Hindu American Foundation et al. as Amici Curiae. Though JUSTICE SCALIA disagrees that these sentiments are consistent with the Establishment Clause, he does not deny that our cases wholeheartedly adopt this expression of neutrality. Instead, he suggests that this Court simply discard what he terms the "say-so of earlier Courts," based in part on his own "say-so" that nonmonotheists make up a statistically insignificant portion of this Nation's religious community. McCreary County, post, at 889. Besides marginalizing the belief systems of more than 7 million Americans by deeming them unworthy of the special protections he offers monotheists under the Establishment Clause, JUSTICE SCALIA'S measure of analysis may be cause for concern even for the self-proclaimed "popular" religions of Islam and Judaism. The number of Buddhists alone is nearly equal to the number of Muslims in this country, and while those of the Islamic and Jewish faiths only account for 2.2% of all believers, Christianity accounts for 95.5%. See U. S. Dept. of Commerce, Bureau of Census, Statistical Abstract of the United States: 2004-2005, p. 55 (124th ed. 2004) (Table No. 67).

[32] The fact that this particular display has stood unchallenged for over 40 years does not suggest otherwise. One need look no further than the deluge of cases flooding lower courts to realize the discord these displays have engendered. See, e.g., Mercier v. Fraternal Order of Eagles, 395 F. 3d 693 (CA7 2005); ACLU Nebraska Foundation v. Plattsmouth, 358 F. 3d 1020 (CA8 2004); Adland v. Russ, 307 F. 3d 471 (CA6 2002); Summum v. Ogden, 297 F. 3d 995 (CA10 2002); Books v. Elkhart, 235 F. 3d 292 (CA7 2000); State v. Freedom From Religion Foundation, Inc., 898 P. 2d 1013 (Colo. 1995); Anderson v. Salt Lake City Corp., 475 F. 2d 29 (CA10 1973).

[33] This is, of course, a rhetorical approach not unique to the plurality's opinion today. Appeals to such religious speeches have frequently been used in support of governmental transmission of religious messages. See, e.g., Wallace, 472 U. S., at 98-104 (REHNQUIST, J., dissenting); Lee v. Weisman, 505 U. S. 577, 633-636 (1992) (Scalia, J., dissenting); Santa Fe Independent School Dist. v. Doe, 530 U. S. 290, 318 (2000) (REHNQUIST, C. J., dissenting); cf. Lynch v. Donnelly, 465 U. S. 668, 675-676 (1984).

[34] It goes without saying that the analysis differs when a listener is coerced into listening to a prayer. See, e.g., Santa Fe Independent School Dist., 530 U. S., at 308-312.

[35] With respect to the "legislative prayers" cited approvingly by THE CHIEF JUSTICE, ante, at 687-688, I reiterate my view that "the designation of a member of one religious faith to serve as the sole official chaplain of a state legislature for a period of 16 years constitutes the preference of one faith over another in violation of the Establishment Clause." Marsh v. Chambers, 463 U. S. 783, 823 (1983) (Stevens, J., dissenting). Thus, JUSTICE SCALIA and I are in agreement with respect to at least one point—this Court's decision in Marsh "ignor[ed] the neutrality principle" at the heart of the Establishment Clause. McCreary County, post, at 892 (Scalia, J., dissenting).

[36] See, e.g., J. Hutson, Religion and the Founding of the American Republic 75 (1998) (noting the dearth of references to God at the Philadelphia Convention and that many contemporaneous observers of the Convention complained that "the Framers had unaccountably turned their backs on the Almighty" because they "`found the Constitution without any acknowledgement of God'").

[37] See Letter from Thomas Jefferson to Rev. S. Miller (Jan. 23, 1808), in 5 The Founders' Constitution 98 (P. Kurland & R. Lerner eds. 1987) (hereinafter Founders' Constitution); 11 Jefferson's Writings 428-430 (1905); see also Lee, 505 U. S., at 623-625 (Souter, J., concurring) (documenting history); Lynch, 465 U. S., at 716, n. 23 (Brennan, J., dissenting) (same).

[38] See also James Madison, Detached Memoranda, in 5 Founders' Constitution 103-104. Madison's letter to Livingston further argued: "There has been another deviation from the strict principle in the Executive Proclamations of fasts & festivals, so far, at least, as they have spoken the language of injunction, or have lost sight of the equality of all religious sects in the eve of the Constitution. . . . Notwithstanding the general progress made within the two last centuries in favour of this branch of liberty, & the full establishment of it, in some parts of our Country, there remains in others a strong bias towards the old error, that without some sort of alliance or coalition between [Government] & Religion neither can be duly supported. Such indeed is the tendency to such a coalition, and such its corrupting influence on both the parties, that the danger cannot be too carefully guarded [against]. . . . Every new & successful example therefore of a perfect separation between ecclesiastical and civil matters, is of importance. And I have no doubt that every new example, will succeed, as every past one has done, in shewing that religion & [Government] will both exist in greater purity, the less they are mixed together." Id., at 105-106.

[39] Religion and Politics in the Early Republic 20-21 (D. Dreisbach ed. 1996) (hereinafter Dreisbach) (quoting Letter from James Madison to Jasper Adams (1833)). See also Letter from James Madison to Edward Livingston (July 10, 1822), in 5 Founders' Constitution 106 ("We are teaching the world the great truth that [governments] do better without Kings & Nobles than with them. The merit will be doubled by the other lesson that Religion flourishes in greater purity, without than with the aid of [government]").

[40] The contrary evidence cited by THE CHIEF JUSTICE and JUSTICE SCALIA only underscores the obvious fact that leaders who have drafted and voted for a text are eminently capable of violating their own rules. The first Congress was—just as the present Congress is—capable of passing unconstitutional legislation. Thus, it is no answer to say that the Founders' separationist impulses were "plainly rejected" simply because the first Congress enacted laws that acknowledged God. See McCreary County, post, at 896 (SCALIA, J., dissenting). To adopt such an interpretive approach would misguidedly give authoritative weight to the fact that the Congress that proposed the Fourteenth Amendment also enacted laws that tolerated segregation, and the fact that 10 years after proposing the First Amendment, Congress enacted the Alien and Sedition Act, which indisputably violated our present understanding of the First Amendment. See n. 34, infra; Lee, 505 U. S., at 626 (Souter, J., concurring).

[41] See, e.g., Strang, The Meaning of "Religion" in the First Amendment, 40 Duquesne L. Rev. 181, 220-223 (2002).

[42] Justice Story wrote elsewhere that "`Christianity is indispensable to the true interests & solid foundations of all free governments. I distinguish . . . between the establishment of a particular sect, as the Religion of the State, & the Establishment of Christianity itself, without any preference of any particular form of it. I know not, indeed, how any deep sense of moral obligation or accountableness can be expected to prevail in the community without a firm persuasion of the great Christian Truths.'" Letter to Jasper Adams (May 14, 1833) (quoted in Dreisbach 19).

[43] See 143 U. S., at 471 ("`[W]e are a Christian people, and the morality of the country is deeply ingrafted upon Christianity, and not upon the doctrines or worship of . . . imposters'" (quoting People v. Ruggles, 8 Johns. 290, 295 (N. Y. 1811))); see also Vidal v. Philadelphia, 2 How. 127, 198-199 (1844). These views should not be read as those of religious zealots. Chief Justice Marshall himself penned the historical genesis of the Court's assertion that our "institutions presuppose a Supreme Being," see Zorach, 343 U. S., at 313, writing that the "`American population is entirely Christian, & with us, Christianity & Religion are identified. It would be strange, indeed, if with such a people, our institutions did not presuppose Christianity, & did not often refer to it, & exhibit relations with it,'" Letter from John Marshall to Jasper Adams (May 9, 1833) (quoted in Dreisbach 18-19). Accord, Story § 988, at 700 ("[A]t the time of the adoption of the constitution, . . . the general, if not the universal, sentiment in America was, that Christianity ought to receive encouragement from the state. . .").

[44] JUSTICE SCALIA'S characterization of this conclusion as nothing more than my own personal "assurance" is misleading to say the least. McCreary County, post, at 898. Reliance on our Nation's early constitutional scholars is common in this Court's opinions. In particular, the author of the plurality once noted that "Joseph Story, a Member of this Court from 1811 to 1845, and during much of that time a professor at the Harvard Law School, published by far the most comprehensive treatise on the United States Constitution that had then appeared." Wallace, 472 U. S., at 104 (Rehnquist, J., dissenting). And numerous opinions of this Court, including two notable opinions authored by JUSTICE SCALIA, have seen it fit to give authoritative weight to Joseph Story's treatise when interpreting other constitutional provisions. See, e.g., United States v. Gaudin, 515 U. S. 506, 510-511 (1995) (Fifth Amendment); Harmelin v. Michigan, 501 U. S. 957, 981-982 (1991) (Eighth Amendment).

[45] JUSTICE SCALIA'S answer—that incorporation does not empty "the incorporated provisions of their original meaning," McCreary County, post, at 898—ignores the fact that the Establishment Clause has its own unique history. There is no evidence, for example, that incorporation of the Confrontation Clause ran contrary to the core of the Clause's original understanding. There is, however, some persuasive evidence to this effect regarding the Establishment Clause. See Elk Grove Unified School Dist. v. Newdow,542 U. S. 1, 49 (2004) (Thomas, J., concurring in judgment) (arguing that the Clause was originally understood to be a "federalism provision" intended to prevent "Congress from interfering with state establishments"). It is this unique history, not incorporation writ large, that renders incoherent the postincorporation reliance on the Establishment Clause's original understanding.

JUSTICE THOMAS, at least, has faced this problem head on. See id., at 45 (opinion concurring in judgment). But even if the decision to incorporate the Establishment Clause was misguided, it is at this point unwise to reverse course given the weight of precedent that would have to be cast aside to reach the intended result. See B. Cardozo, The Nature of the Judicial Process 149 (1921) ("[T]he labor of judges would be increased almost to the breaking point if every past decision could be reopened in every case").

[46] See Lee, 505 U. S., at 626 (Souter, J., concurring) ("[A]t best, ... the Framers simply did not share a common understanding of the Establishment Clause," and at worst, their overtly religious proclamations show "that they . . . could raise constitutional ideals one day and turn their backs on them the next"); Lynch, 465 U. S., at 716 (Brennan, J., dissenting) (same); cf. Feldman, Intellectual Origins of the Establishment Clause, 77 N. Y. U. L. Rev. 346, 404-405 (2002) (noting that, for the Framers, "the term `establishment' was a contested one" and that the word "was used in both narrow and expansive ways in the debates of the time").

[47] See Hovenkamp, The Cultural Crises of the Fuller Court, 104 Yale L. J. 2309, 2337-2342 (1995) ("Equal protection had not been identified with social integration when the Fourteenth Amendment was drafted in 1866, nor when it was ratified in 1868, nor when Plessy [v. Ferguson, 163 U. S. 537,] was decided in 1896"); see also 1 L. Tribe, American Constitutional Law § 1-14, pp. 54-55, and n. 19 (3d ed. 2000) (collecting scholarship).

[48] JUSTICE THOMAS contends that the Establishment Clause cannot include such a neutrality principle because the Clause reaches only the governmental coercion of individual belief or disbelief. Ante, at 693-694 (concurring opinion). In my view, although actual religious coercion is undoubtedly forbidden by the Establishment Clause, that cannot be the full extent of the provision's reach. Jefferson's "wall" metaphor and his refusal to issue Thanksgiving proclamations, see supra, at 724, would have been nonsensical if the Clause reached only direct coercion. Further, under the "coercion" view, the Establishment Clause would amount to little more than a replica of our compelled speech doctrine, see, e.g., West Virginia Bd. of Ed. v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624, 639 (1943), with a religious flavor. A Clause so interpreted would not prohibit explicit state endorsements of religious orthodoxies of particular sects, actions that lie at the heart of what the Clause was meant to regulate. The government could, for example, take out television advertisements lauding Catholicism as the only pure religion. Under the reasoning endorsed by JUSTICE THOMAS, those programs would not be coercive because the viewer could simply turn off the television or ignore the ad. See ante,at 694 ("The mere presence of the monument . . . involves no coercion" because the passerby "need not stop to read it or even to look at it").

Further, the notion that the application of a "coercion" principle would somehow lead to a more consistent jurisprudence is dubious. Enshrining coercion as the Establishment Clause touchstone fails to eliminate the difficult judgment calls regarding "the form that coercion must take." McCreary County, post, at 909 (SCALIA, J., dissenting). Coercion may seem obvious to some, while appearing nonexistent to others. Compare Santa Fe Independent School Dist., 530 U. S., at 312, with Lee, 505 U. S., at 642 (SCALIA, J., dissenting). It may be a legal requirement or an effect that is indirectly inferred from a variety of factors. See, e.g., Engel v. Vitale, 370 U. S. 421, 431 (1962) ("When the power, prestige and financial support of government is placed behind a particular religious belief, the indirect coercive pressure upon religious minorities to conform to the prevailing officially approved religion is plain"). In short, "reasonable people could, and no doubt would, argue about whether coercion existed in a particular situation." Feldman, 77 N. Y. U. L. Rev., at 415.

[49] The clarity of the religious manifestation in Stonewas unaffected by the State's effort to obscure it: the Kentucky statute that mandated posting the Commandments in classrooms also required the addition to every posting of a notation reading, "[t]he secular application of the Ten Commandments is clearly seen in its adoption as the fundamental legal code of Western Civilization and the Common Law of the United States." 449 U. S., at 39-40, n. 1 (internal quotation marks omitted).

In the present case, the religious purpose was evident on the part of the donating organization. When the Fraternal Order of Eagles, the group that gave the monument to the State of Texas, donated identical monuments to other jurisdictions, it was seeking to impart a religious message. See Adland v. Russ, 307 F. 3d 471, 475 (CA6 2002) (quoting the Eagles' statement in a letter written to Kentucky when a monument was donated to that Commonwealth: "`Most of today's younger generation either have not seen the Ten Commandments or have not been taught them. In our opinion the youth of today is in dire need of learning the simple laws of God . . .'"). Accordingly, it was not just the terms of the moral code, but the proclamation that the terms of the code were enjoined by God, that the Eagles put forward in the monuments they donated.

[50] That the monument also surrounds the text of the Commandments with various American symbols (notably the U. S. flag and a bald eagle) only underscores the impermissibility of Texas's actions: by juxtaposing these patriotic symbols with the Commandments and other religious signs, the monument sends the message that being American means being religious (and not just being religious but also subscribing to the Commandments, i. e., practicing a monotheistic religion).

[51] There is no question that the State in its own right is broadcasting the religious message. When Texas accepted the monument from the Eagles, the state legislature, aware that the Eagles "for the past several years have placed across the country . . . parchment plaques and granite monoliths of the Ten Commandments [in order] to promote youth morality and to help stop the alarming increase in delinquency," resolved "that the Fraternal Order of the Eagles of the State of Texas be commended and congratulated for its efforts and contributions in combating juvenile delinquency throughout our nation." App. 97. The State, then, expressly approved of the Eagles' proselytizing, which it made on its own.

[52] For similar reasons, the other displays of the Commandments that the plurality mentions, ante, at 688-689, do not run afoul of the Establishment Clause. The statues of Moses and St. Paul in the Main Reading Room of the Library of Congress are 2 of 16 set in close proximity, statues that "represent men illustrious in the various forms of thought and activity. . . ." The Library of Congress: The Art and Architecture of the Thomas Jefferson Building 127 (J. Cole and H. Reeds eds. 1997). Moses and St. Paul represent religion, while the other 14 (a group that includes Beethoven, Shakespeare, Michelangelo, Columbus, and Plato) represent the nonreligious categories of philosophy, art, history, commerce, science, law, and poetry. Ibid. Similarly, the sculpture of the woman beside the Decalogue in the Main Reading Room is 1 of 8 such figures "represent[ing] eight characteristic features of civilized life and thought," the same 8 features (7 of them nonreligious) that Moses, St. Paul, and the rest of the 16 statues represent. Id.,at 125.

The inlay on the floor of the National Archives Building is one of four such discs, the collective theme of which is not religious. Rather, the discs "symbolize the various types of Government records that were to come into the National Archives." Letter from Judith A. Koucky, Archivist, Records Control Section, to Catherine Millard (Oct. 1, 2003), http://www.christianheritagemins.org/articles/Ten_Commandments/Letter_archivist.htm (as visited June 16, 2005, and available in Clerk of Court's case file). (The four categories are war and defense, history, justice, and legislation. Each disc is paired with a winged figure; the disc containing the depiction of the Commandments, a depiction that, notably, omits the Commandments' text, is paired with a figure representing legislation. Ibid.)

As for Moses's "prominen[t] featur[ing] in the Chamber of the United States House of Representatives," ante, at 689 (plurality opinion), Moses is actually 1 of 23 portraits encircling the House Chamber, each approximately the same size, having no religious theme. The portraits depict "men noted in history for the part they played in the evolution of what has become American law." Art in the United States Capitol, House Doc. No. 94-660, p. 282 (1978). More importantly for purposes of this case, each portrait consists only of the subject's face; the Ten Commandments appear nowhere in Moses's portrait.

[53] Similarly permissible, though obviously of a different character, are laws that can be traced back to the Commandments (even the more religious ones) but are currently supported by nonreligious considerations. See McCreary County v. American Civil Liberties Union of Ky., post, at 861 (opinion of the Court) (noting that in McGowan v. Maryland, 366 U. S. 420 (1961), the Court "upheld Sunday closing statutes on practical, secular grounds after finding that the government had forsaken the religious purposes behind centuries-old predecessor laws").

[54] It is true that the Commandments monument is unlike the display of the Commandments considered in the other Ten Commandments case we decide today, McCreary County. There the Commandments were posted at the behest of the county in the first instance, whereas the State of Texas received the monument as a gift from the Eagles, which apparently conceived of the donation at the suggestion of a movie producer bent on promoting his commercial film on the Ten Commandments, Books v. Elkhart, 235 F. 3d 292, 294-295 (CA7 2000), cert. denied, 532 U. S. 1058 (2001). But this distinction fails to neutralize the apparent expression of governmental intent to promote a religious message: although the nativity scene in County of Allegheny was donated by the Holy Name Society, we concluded that "[n]o viewer could reasonably think that [the scene] occupies [its] location [at the seat of county government] without the support and approval of the government." 492 U. S., at 599-600.

[55] In any event, the fact that we have been, as the plurality says, "`particularly vigilant in monitoring compliance with the Establishment Clause in elementary and secondary schools,'" ante, at 691, does not of course mean that anything goes outside the schoolhouse. As cases like County of Allegheny and Lynch v. Donnelly, 465 U. S. 668 (1984), illustrate, we have also closely scrutinized government displays of religious symbols. And for reasons discussed in the text, the Texas monument cannot survive even a relaxed level of scrutiny.

1.2.4 The Free Exercise Clause 1.2.4 The Free Exercise Clause

Free Exercise Clause

Under the Free Exercise Clause, problems arise when religious practices violate secular laws. In Wisconsin v. Yoder, 406 U.S. 205 (1972), for example, the right of Amish parents to stop their children's formal school education after eighth grade was upheld. The Court was required to balance the Amish concern for protecting their children from the threats of secular education against a claim by the state that it had a legitimate interest in ensuring that all children attend school until the age of sixteen. In contrast, however, the Court in United States v. Lee, 455 U.S. 252 (1982) ruled that Amish workers could be compelled to participate in the national social security system even though it conflicted with their religious tenets. What is the difference? The Court typically inquires into whether the burden on free exercise is significant, and whether that burden is outweighed by the government's interest.

1.2.5 Employment Division v. Smith 1.2.5 Employment Division v. Smith

494 U.S. 872 (1990)

EMPLOYMENT DIVISION, DEPARTMENT OF HUMAN RESOURCES OF OREGON, ET AL.
v.
SMITH ET AL.

No. 88-1213.
Supreme Court of United States.
Argued November 6, 1989
Decided April 17, 1990

CERTIORARI TO THE SUPREME COURT OF OREGON

[873] Dave Frohnmayer, Attorney General of Oregon, argued the cause for petitioners. With him on the briefs were James E. Mountain, Jr., Deputy Attorney General, Virginia L. Linder, Solicitor General, and Michael D. Reynolds, Assistant Solicitor General.

Craig J. Dorsay argued the cause and filed briefs for respondents.[*]

[874] JUSTICE SCALIA delivered the opinion of the Court.

This case requires us to decide whether the Free Exercise Clause of the First Amendment permits the State of Oregon to include religiously inspired peyote use within the reach of its general criminal prohibition on use of that drug, and thus permits the State to deny unemployment benefits to persons dismissed from their jobs because of such religiously inspired use.

I

Oregon law prohibits the knowing or intentional possession of a "controlled substance" unless the substance has been prescribed by a medical practitioner. Ore. Rev. Stat. § 475.992(4) (1987). The law defines "controlled substance" as a drug classified in Schedules I through V of the Federal Controlled Substances Act, 21 U. S. C. §§ 811-812, as modified by the State Board of Pharmacy. Ore. Rev. Stat. § 475.005(6) (1987). Persons who violate this provision by possessing a controlled substance listed on Schedule I are "guilty of a Class B felony." § 475.992(4)(a). As compiled by the State Board of Pharmacy under its statutory authority, see § 475.035, Schedule I contains the drug peyote, a hallucinogen derived from the plant Lophophora williamsii Lemaire. Ore. Admin. Rule 855-80-021(3)(s) (1988).

Respondents Alfred Smith and Galen Black (hereinafter respondents) were fired from their jobs with a private drug rehabilitation organization because they ingested peyote for sacramental purposes at a ceremony of the Native American Church, of which both are members. When respondents applied to petitioner Employment Division (hereinafter petitioner) for unemployment compensation, they were determined to be ineligible for benefits because they had been discharged for work-related "misconduct." The Oregon Court of Appeals reversed that determination, holding that the denial of benefits violated respondents' free exercise rights under the First Amendment.

[875] On appeal to the Oregon Supreme Court, petitioner argued that the denial of benefits was permissible because respondents' consumption of peyote was a crime under Oregon law. The Oregon Supreme Court reasoned, however, that the criminality of respondents' peyote use was irrelevant to resolution of their constitutional claim — since the purpose of the "misconduct" provision under which respondents had been disqualified was not to enforce the State's criminal laws but to preserve the financial integrity of the compensation fund, and since that purpose was inadequate to justify the burden that disqualification imposed on respondents' religious practice. Citing our decisions in Sherbert v. Verner, 374 U. S. 398 (1963), and Thomas v. Review Bd. of Indiana Employment Security Div., 450 U. S. 707 (1981), the court concluded that respondents were entitled to payment of unemployment benefits. Smith v. Employment Div., Dept. of Human Resources, 301 Ore. 209, 217-219, 721 P. 2d 445, 449-450 (1986). We granted certiorari. 480 U. S. 916 (1987).

Before this Court in 1987, petitioner continued to maintain that the illegality of respondents' peyote consumption was relevant to their constitutional claim. We agreed, concluding that "if a State has prohibited through its criminal laws certain kinds of religiously motivated conduct without violating the First Amendment, it certainly follows that it may impose the lesser burden of denying unemployment compensation benefits to persons who engage in that conduct." Employment Div., Dept. of Human Resources of Oregon v. Smith, 485 U. S. 660, 670 (1988) (Smith I). We noted, however, that the Oregon Supreme Court had not decided whether respondents' sacramental use of peyote was in fact proscribed by Oregon's controlled substance law, and that this issue was a matter of dispute between the parties. Being "uncertain about the legality of the religious use of peyote in Oregon," we determined that it would not be "appropriate for us to decide whether the practice is protected by the Federal Constitution." Id., at 673. Accordingly, we [876] vacated the judgment of the Oregon Supreme Court and remanded for further proceedings. Id., at 674.

On remand, the Oregon Supreme Court held that respondents' religiously inspired use of peyote fell within the prohibition of the Oregon statute, which "makes no exception for the sacramental use" of the drug. 307 Ore. 68, 72-73, 763 P. 2d 146, 148 (1988). It then considered whether that prohibition was valid under the Free Exercise Clause, and concluded that it was not. The court therefore reaffirmed its previous ruling that the State could not deny unemployment benefits to respondents for having engaged in that practice.

We again granted certiorari. 489 U. S. 1077 (1989).

II

Respondents' claim for relief rests on our decisions in Sherbert v. Verner, supra, Thomas v. Review Bd. of Indiana Employment Security Div., supra, and Hobbie v. Unemployment Appeals Comm'n of Florida, 480 U. S. 136 (1987), in which we held that a State could not condition the availability of unemployment insurance on an individual's willingness to forgo conduct required by his religion. As we observed in Smith I, however, the conduct at issue in those cases was not prohibited by law. We held that distinction to be critical, for "if Oregon does prohibit the religious use of peyote, and if that prohibition is consistent with the Federal Constitution, there is no federal right to engage in that conduct in Oregon," and "the State is free to withhold unemployment compensation from respondents for engaging in work-related misconduct, despite its religious motivation." 485 U. S., at 672. Now that the Oregon Supreme Court has confirmed that Oregon does prohibit the religious use of peyote, we proceed to consider whether that prohibition is permissible under the Free Exercise Clause.

A

The Free Exercise Clause of the First Amendment, which has been made applicable to the States by incorporation into [877] the Fourteenth Amendment, see Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U. S. 296, 303 (1940), provides that "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof . . . ." U. S. Const., Amdt. 1 (emphasis added). The free exercise of religion means, first and foremost, the right to believe and profess whatever religious doctrine one desires. Thus, the First Amendment obviously excludes all "governmental regulation of religious beliefs as such." Sherbert v. Verner, supra, at 402. The government may not compel affirmation of religious belief, see Torcaso v. Watkins, 367 U. S. 488 (1961), punish the expression of religious doctrines it believes to be false, United States v. Ballard, 322 U. S. 78, 86-88 (1944), impose special disabilities on the basis of religious views or religious status, see McDaniel v. Paty, 435 U. S. 618 (1978); Fowler v. Rhode Island, 345 U. S. 67, 69 (1953); cf. Larson v. Valente, 456 U. S. 228, 245 (1982), or lend its power to one or the other side in controversies over religious authority or dogma, see Presbyterian Church in U. S. v. Mary Elizabeth Blue Hull Memorial Presbyterian Church, 393 U. S. 440, 445-452 (1969); Kedroff v. St. Nicholas Cathedral, 344 U. S. 94, 95-119 (1952); Serbian Eastern Orthodox Diocese v. Milivojevich, 426 U. S. 696, 708-725 (1976).

But the "exercise of religion" often involves not only belief and profession but the performance of (or abstention from) physical acts: assembling with others for a worship service, participating in sacramental use of bread and wine, proselytizing, abstaining from certain foods or certain modes of transportation. It would be true, we think (though no case of ours has involved the point), that a State would be "prohibiting the free exercise [of religion]" if it sought to ban such acts or abstentions only when they are engaged in for religious reasons, or only because of the religious belief that they display. It would doubtless be unconstitutional, for example, to ban the casting of "statues that are to be used [878] for worship purposes," or to prohibit bowing down before a golden calf.

Respondents in the present case, however, seek to carry the meaning of "prohibiting the free exercise [of religion]" one large step further. They contend that their religious motivation for using peyote places them beyond the reach of a criminal law that is not specifically directed at their religious practice, and that is concededly constitutional as applied to those who use the drug for other reasons. They assert, in other words, that "prohibiting the free exercise [of religion]" includes requiring any individual to observe a generally applicable law that requires (or forbids) the performance of an act that his religious belief forbids (or requires). As a textual matter, we do not think the words must be given that meaning. It is no more necessary to regard the collection of a general tax, for example, as "prohibiting the free exercise [of religion]" by those citizens who believe support of organized government to be sinful, than it is to regard the same tax as "abridging the freedom . . . of the press" of those publishing companies that must pay the tax as a condition of staying in business. It is a permissible reading of the text, in the one case as in the other, to say that if prohibiting the exercise of religion (or burdening the activity of printing) is not the object of the tax but merely the incidental effect of a generally applicable and otherwise valid provision, the First Amendment has not been offended. Compare Citizen Publishing Co. v. United States, 394 U. S. 131, 139 (1969) (upholding application of antitrust laws to press), with Grosjean v. American Press Co., 297 U. S. 233, 250-251 (1936) (striking down license tax applied only to newspapers with weekly circulation above a specified level); see generally Minneapolis Star & Tribune Co. v. Minnesota Comm'r of Revenue, 460 U. S. 575, 581 (1983).

Our decisions reveal that the latter reading is the correct one. We have never held that an individual's religious beliefs [879] excuse him from compliance with an otherwise valid law prohibiting conduct that the State is free to regulate. On the contrary, the record of more than a century of our free exercise jurisprudence contradicts that proposition. As described succinctly by Justice Frankfurter in Minersville School Dist. Bd. of Ed. v. Gobitis, 310 U. S. 586, 594-595 (1940): "Conscientious 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. The mere possession of religious convictions which contradict the relevant concerns of a political society does not relieve the citizen from the discharge of political responsibilities (footnote omitted)." We first had occasion to assert that principle in Reynolds v. United States, 98 U. S. 145 (1879), where we rejected the claim that criminal laws against polygamy could not be constitutionally applied to those whose religion commanded the practice. "Laws," we said, "are made for the government of actions, and while they cannot interfere with mere religious belief and opinions, they may with practices. . . . Can a man excuse his practices to the contrary because of his religious belief? To permit this would be to make the professed doctrines of religious belief superior to the law of the land, and in effect to permit every citizen to become a law unto himself." Id., at 166-167.

Subsequent decisions have consistently held that the right of free exercise does not relieve an individual of the obligation to comply with a "valid and neutral law of general applicability on the ground that the law proscribes (or prescribes) conduct that his religion prescribes (or proscribes)." United States v. Lee, 455 U. S. 252, 263, n. 3 (1982) (STEVENS, J., concurring in judgment); see Minersville School Dist. Bd. of Ed. v. Gobitis, supra, at 595 (collecting cases). In Prince v. Massachusetts, 321 U. S. 158 (1944), we held that a mother could be prosecuted under the child labor laws [880] for using her children to dispense literature in the streets, her religious motivation notwithstanding. We found no constitutional infirmity in "excluding [these children] from doing there what no other children may do." Id., at 171. In Braunfeld v. Brown, 366 U. S. 599 (1961) (plurality opinion), we upheld Sunday-closing laws against the claim that they burdened the religious practices of persons whose religions compelled them to refrain from work on other days. In Gillette v. United States, 401 U. S. 437, 461 (1971), we sustained the military Selective Service System against the claim that it violated free exercise by conscripting persons who opposed a particular war on religious grounds.

Our most recent decision involving a neutral, generally applicable regulatory law that compelled activity forbidden by an individual's religion was United States v. Lee, 455 U. S., at 258-261. There, an Amish employer, on behalf of himself and his employees, sought exemption from collection and payment of Social Security taxes on the ground that the Amish faith prohibited participation in governmental support programs. We rejected the claim that an exemption was constitutionally required. There would be no way, we observed, to distinguish the Amish believer's objection to Social Security taxes from the religious objections that others might have to the collection or use of other taxes. "If, for example, a religious adherent believes war is a sin, and if a certain percentage of the federal budget can be identified as devoted to war-related activities, such individuals would have a similarly valid claim to be exempt from paying that percentage of the income tax. The tax system could not function if denominations were allowed to challenge the tax system because tax payments were spent in a manner that violates their religious belief." Id., at 260. Cf. Hernandez v. Commissioner, 490 U. S. 680 (1989) (rejecting free exercise challenge to payment of income taxes alleged to make religious activities more difficult).

[881] The only decisions in which we have held that the First Amendment bars application of a neutral, generally applicable law to religiously motivated action have involved not the Free Exercise Clause alone, but the Free Exercise Clause in conjunction with other constitutional protections, such as freedom of speech and of the press, see Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U. S., at 304-307 (invalidating a licensing system for religious and charitable solicitations under which the administrator had discretion to deny a license to any cause he deemed nonreligious); Murdock v. Pennsylvania, 319 U. S. 105 (1943) (invalidating a flat tax on solicitation as applied to the dissemination of religious ideas); Follett v. McCormick, 321 U. S. 573 (1944) (same), or the right of parents, acknowledged in Pierce v. Society of Sisters, 268 U. S. 510 (1925), to direct the education of their children, see Wisconsin v. Yoder, 406 U. S. 205 (1972) (invalidating compulsory school-attendance laws as applied to Amish parents who refused on religious grounds to send their children to school).[1] [882] Some of our cases prohibiting compelled expression, decided exclusively upon free speech grounds, have also involved freedom of religion, cf. Wooley v. Maynard, 430 U. S. 705 (1977) (invalidating compelled display of a license plate slogan that offended individual religious beliefs); West Virginia Bd. of Education v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624 (1943) (invalidating compulsory flag salute statute challenged by religious objectors). And it is easy to envision a case in which a challenge on freedom of association grounds would likewise be reinforced by Free Exercise Clause concerns. Cf. Roberts v. United States Jaycees, 468 U. S. 609, 622 (1984) ("An individual's freedom to speak, to worship, and to petition the government for the redress of grievances could not be vigorously protected from interference by the State [if] a correlative freedom to engage in group effort toward those ends were not also guaranteed").

The present case does not present such a hybrid situation, but a free exercise claim unconnected with any communicative activity or parental right. Respondents urge us to hold, quite simply, that when otherwise prohibitable conduct is accompanied by religious convictions, not only the convictions but the conduct itself must be free from governmental regulation. We have never held that, and decline to do so now. There being no contention that Oregon's drug law represents an attempt to regulate religious beliefs, the communication of religious beliefs, or the raising of one's children in those beliefs, the rule to which we have adhered ever since Reynolds plainly controls. "Our cases do not at their farthest reach support the proposition that a stance of conscientious opposition relieves an objector from any colliding duty fixed by a democratic government." Gillette v. United States, supra, at 461.

B

Respondents argue that even though exemption from generally applicable criminal laws need not automatically be extended to religiously motivated actors, at least the claim for a [883] religious exemption must be evaluated under the balancing test set forth in Sherbert v. Verner, 374 U. S. 398 (1963). Under the Sherbert test, governmental actions that substantially burden a religious practice must be justified by a compelling governmental interest. See id., at 402-403; see also Hernandez v. Commissioner, 490 U. S., at 699. Applying that test we have, on three occasions, invalidated state unemployment compensation rules that conditioned the availability of benefits upon an applicant's willingness to work under conditions forbidden by his religion. See Sherbert v. Verner, supra; Thomas v. Review Bd. of Indiana Employment Security Div., 450 U. S. 707 (1981); Hobbie v. Unemployment Appeals Comm'n of Florida, 480 U. S. 136 (1987). We have never invalidated any governmental action on the basis of the Sherbert test except the denial of unemployment compensation. Although we have sometimes purported to apply the Sherbert test in contexts other than that, we have always found the test satisfied, see United States v. Lee, 455 U. S. 252 (1982); Gillette v. United States, 401 U. S. 437 (1971). In recent years we have abstained from applying the Sherbert test (outside the unemployment compensation field) at all. In Bowen v. Roy, 476 U. S. 693 (1986), we declined to apply Sherbert analysis to a federal statutory scheme that required benefit applicants and recipients to provide their Social Security numbers. The plaintiffs in that case asserted that it would violate their religious beliefs to obtain and provide a Social Security number for their daughter. We held the statute's application to the plaintiffs valid regardless of whether it was necessary to effectuate a compelling interest. See 476 U. S., at 699-701. In Lyng v. Northwest Indian Cemetery Protective Assn., 485 U. S. 439 (1988), we declined to apply Sherbert analysis to the Government's logging and road construction activities on lands used for religious purposes by several Native American Tribes, even though it was undisputed that the activities "could have devastating effects on traditional Indian religious practices," 485 U. S., at 451. [884] In Goldman v. Weinberger, 475 U. S. 503 (1986), we rejected application of the Sherbert test to military dress regulations that forbade the wearing of yarmulkes. In O'Lone v. Estate of Shabazz, 482 U. S. 342 (1987), we sustained, without mentioning the Sherbert test, a prison's refusal to excuse inmates from work requirements to attend worship services.

Even if we were inclined to breathe into Sherbert some life beyond the unemployment compensation field, we would not apply it to require exemptions from a generally applicable criminal law. The Sherbert test, it must be recalled, was developed in a context that lent itself to individualized governmental assessment of the reasons for the relevant conduct. As a plurality of the Court noted in Roy, a distinctive feature of unemployment compensation programs is that their eligibility criteria invite consideration of the particular circumstances behind an applicant's unemployment: "The statutory conditions [in Sherbert and Thomas] provided that a person was not eligible for unemployment compensation benefits if, `without good cause,' he had quit work or refused available work. The `good cause' standard created a mechanism for individualized exemptions." Bowen v. Roy, supra, at 708 (opinion of Burger, C. J., joined by Powell and REHNQUIST, JJ.). See also Sherbert, supra, at 401, n. 4 (reading state unemployment compensation law as allowing benefits for unemployment caused by at least some "personal reasons"). As the plurality pointed out in Roy, our decisions in the unemployment cases stand for the proposition that where the State has in place a system of individual exemptions, it may not refuse to extend that system to cases of "religious hardship" without compelling reason. Bowen v. Roy, supra, at 708.

Whether or not the decisions are that limited, they at least have nothing to do with an across-the-board criminal prohibition on a particular form of conduct. Although, as noted earlier, we have sometimes used the Sherbert test to analyze free exercise challenges to such laws, see United States v. [885] Lee, supra, at 257-260; Gillette v. United States, supra, at 462, we have never applied the test to invalidate one. We conclude today that the sounder approach, and the approach in accord with the vast majority of our precedents, is to hold the test inapplicable to such challenges. The government's ability to enforce generally applicable prohibitions of socially harmful conduct, like its ability to carry out other aspects of public policy, "cannot depend on measuring the effects of a governmental action on a religious objector's spiritual development." Lyng, supra, at 451. To make an individual's obligation to obey such a law contingent upon the law's coincidence with his religious beliefs, except where the State's interest is "compelling" — permitting him, by virtue of his beliefs, "to become a law unto himself," Reynolds v. United States, 98 U. S., at 167 — contradicts both constitutional tradition and common sense.[2]

The "compelling government interest" requirement seems benign, because it is familiar from other fields. But using it as the standard that must be met before the government may accord different treatment on the basis of race, see, e. g., [886] Palmore v. Sidoti, 466 U. S. 429, 432 (1984), or before the government may regulate the content of speech, see, e. g., Sable Communications of California v. FCC, 492 U. S. 115, 126 (1989), is not remotely comparable to using it for the purpose asserted here. What it produces in those other fields — equality of treatment and an unrestricted flow of contending speech — are constitutional norms; what it would produce here — a private right to ignore generally applicable laws — is a constitutional anomaly.[3]

Nor is it possible to limit the impact of respondents' proposal by requiring a "compelling state interest" only when the conduct prohibited is "central" to the individual's religion. Cf. Lyng v. Northwest Indian Cemetery Protective Assn., 485 U. S., at 474-476 (BRENNAN, J., dissenting). It is no [887] more appropriate for judges to determine the "centrality" of religious beliefs before applying a "compelling interest" test in the free exercise field, than it would be for them to determine the "importance" of ideas before applying the "compelling interest" test in the free speech field. What principle of law or logic can be brought to bear to contradict a believer's assertion that a particular act is "central" to his personal faith? Judging the centrality of different religious practices is akin to the unacceptable "business of evaluating the relative merits of differing religious claims." United States v. Lee, 455 U. S., at 263 n. 2 (STEVENS, J., concurring). As we reaffirmed only last Term, "[i]t is not within the judicial ken to question the centrality of particular beliefs or practices to a faith, or the validity of particular litigants' interpretations of those creeds." Hernandez v. Commissioner, 490 U. S., at 699. Repeatedly and in many different contexts, we have warned that courts must not presume to determine the place of a particular belief in a religion or the plausibility of a religious claim. See, e. g., Thomas v. Review Bd. of Indiana Employment Security Div., 450 U. S., at 716; Presbyterian Church in U. S. v. Mary Elizabeth Blue Hull Memorial Presbyterian Church, 393 U. S., at 450; Jones v. Wolf, 443 U. S. 595, 602-606 (1979); United States v. Ballard, 322 U. S. 78, 85-87 (1944).[4]

[888] If the "compelling interest" test is to be applied at all, then, it must be applied across the board, to all actions thought to be religiously commanded. Moreover, if "compelling interest" really means what it says (and watering it down here would subvert its rigor in the other fields where it is applied), many laws will not meet the test. Any society adopting such a system would be courting anarchy, but that danger increases in direct proportion to the society's diversity of religious beliefs, and its determination to coerce or suppress none of them. Precisely because "we are a cosmopolitan nation made up of people of almost every conceivable religious preference," Braunfeld v. Brown, 366 U. S., at 606, and precisely because we value and protect that religious divergence, we cannot afford the luxury of deeming presumptively invalid, as applied to the religious objector, every regulation of conduct that does not protect an interest of the highest order. The rule respondents favor would open the prospect of constitutionally required religious exemptions from civic obligations of almost every conceivable kind — ranging from [889] compulsory military service, see, e. g., Gillette v. United States, 401 U. S. 437 (1971), to the payment of taxes, see, e. g., United States v. Lee, supra; to health and safety regulation such as manslaughter and child neglect laws, see, e. g., Funkhouser v. State, 763 P. 2d 695 (Okla. Crim. App. 1988), compulsory vaccination laws, see, e. g., Cude v. State, 237 Ark. 927, 377 S. W. 2d 816 (1964), drug laws, see, e. g., Olsen v. Drug Enforcement Administration, 279 U. S. App. D. C. 1, 878 F. 2d 1458 (1989), and traffic laws, see Cox v. New Hampshire, 312 U. S. 569 (1941); to social welfare legislation such as minimum wage laws, see Tony and Susan Alamo Foundation v. Secretary of Labor, 471 U. S. 290 (1985), child labor laws, see Prince v. Massachusetts, 321 U. S. 158 (1944), animal cruelty laws, see, e. g., Church of the Lukumi Babalu Aye Inc. v. City of Hialeah, 723 F. Supp. 1467 (SD Fla. 1989), cf. State v. Massey, 229 N. C. 734, 51 S. E. 2d 179, appeal dism'd, 336 U. S. 942 (1949), environmental protection laws, see United States v. Little, 638 F. Supp. 337 (Mont. 1986), and laws providing for equality of opportunity for the races, see, e. g., Bob Jones University v. United States, 461 U. S. 574, 603-604 (1983). The First Amendment's protection of religious liberty does not require this.[5]

[890] Values that are protected against government interference through enshrinement in the Bill of Rights are not thereby banished from the political process. Just as a society that believes in the negative protection accorded to the press by the First Amendment is likely to enact laws that affirmatively foster the dissemination of the printed word, so also a society that believes in the negative protection accorded to religious belief can be expected to be solicitous of that value in its legislation as well. It is therefore not surprising that a number of States have made an exception to their drug laws for sacramental peyote use. See, e. g., Ariz. Rev. Stat. Ann. §§ 13-3402(B)(1)-(3) (1989); Colo. Rev. Stat. § 12-22-317(3) (1985); N. M. Stat. Ann. § 30-31-6(D) (Supp. 1989). But to say that a nondiscriminatory religious-practice exemption is permitted, or even that it is desirable, is not to say that it is constitutionally required, and that the appropriate occasions for its creation can be discerned by the courts. It may fairly be said that leaving accommodation to the political process will place at a relative disadvantage those religious practices that are not widely engaged in; but that unavoidable consequence of democratic government must be preferred to a system in which each conscience is a law unto itself or in which judges weigh the social importance of all laws against the centrality of all religious beliefs.

* * *

Because respondents' ingestion of peyote was prohibited under Oregon law, and because that prohibition is constitutional, Oregon may, consistent with the Free Exercise Clause, deny respondents unemployment compensation when their dismissal results from use of the drug. The decision of the Oregon Supreme Court is accordingly reversed.

It is so ordered.

[891] JUSTICE O'CONNOR, with whom JUSTICE BRENNAN, JUSTICE MARSHALL, and JUSTICE BLACKMUN join as to Parts I and II, concurring in the judgment.[*]

Although I agree with the result the Court reaches in this case, I cannot join its opinion. In my view, today's holding dramatically departs from well-settled First Amendment jurisprudence, appears unnecessary to resolve the question presented, and is incompatible with our Nation's fundamental commitment to individual religious liberty.

I

At the outset, I note that I agree with the Court's implicit determination that the constitutional question upon which we granted review — whether the Free Exercise Clause protects a person's religiously motivated use of peyote from the reach of a State's general criminal law prohibition — is properly presented in this case. As the Court recounts, respondents Alfred Smith and Galen Black (hereinafter respondents) were denied unemployment compensation benefits because their sacramental use of peyote constituted work-related "misconduct," not because they violated Oregon's general criminal prohibition against possession of peyote. We held, however, in Employment Div., Dept. of Human Resources of Oregon v. Smith, 485 U. S. 660 (1988) (Smith I), that whether a State may, consistent with federal law, deny unemployment compensation benefits to persons for their religious use of peyote depends on whether the State, as a matter of state law, has criminalized the underlying conduct. See id., at 670-672. The Oregon Supreme Court, on remand from this Court, concluded that "the Oregon statute against possession of controlled substances, which include peyote, makes no exception for the sacramental use of peyote." 307 Ore. 68, 72-73, 763 P. 2d 146, 148 (1988) (footnote omitted).

[892] Respondents contend that, because the Oregon Supreme Court declined to decide whether the Oregon Constitution prohibits criminal prosecution for the religious use of peyote, see id., at 73, n. 3, 763 P. 2d, at 148, n. 3, any ruling on the federal constitutional question would be premature. Respondents are of course correct that the Oregon Supreme Court may eventually decide that the Oregon Constitution requires the State to provide an exemption from its general criminal prohibition for the religious use of peyote. Such a decision would then reopen the question whether a State may nevertheless deny unemployment compensation benefits to claimants who are discharged for engaging in such conduct. As the case comes to us today, however, the Oregon Supreme Court has plainly ruled that Oregon's prohibition against possession of controlled substances does not contain an exemption for the religious use of peyote. In light of our decision in Smith I, which makes this finding a "necessary predicate to a correct evaluation of respondents' federal claim," 485 U. S., at 672, the question presented and addressed is properly before the Court.

II

The Court today extracts from our long history of free exercise precedents the single categorical rule that "if prohibiting the exercise of religion . . . is . . . merely the incidental effect of a generally applicable and otherwise valid provision, the First Amendment has not been offended." Ante, at 878 (citations omitted). Indeed, the Court holds that where the law is a generally applicable criminal prohibition, our usual free exercise jurisprudence does not even apply. Ante, at 884. To reach this sweeping result, however, the Court must not only give a strained reading of the First Amendment but must also disregard our consistent application of free exercise doctrine to cases involving generally applicable regulations that burden religious conduct.

[893] A

The Free Exercise Clause of the First Amendment commands that "Congress shall make no law . . . prohibiting the free exercise [of religion]." In Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U. S. 296 (1940), we held that this prohibition applies to the States by incorporation into the Fourteenth Amendment and that it categorically forbids government regulation of religious beliefs. Id., at 303. As the Court recognizes, however, the "free exercise" of religion often, if not invariably, requires the performance of (or abstention from) certain acts. Ante, at 877; cf. 3 A New English Dictionary on Historical Principles 401-402 (J. Murray ed. 1897) (defining "exercise" to include "[t]he practice and performance of rites and ceremonies, worship, etc.; the right or permission to celebrate the observances (of a religion)" and religious observances such as acts of public and private worship, preaching, and prophesying). "[B]elief and action cannot be neatly confined in logic-tight compartments." Wisconsin v. Yoder, 406 U. S. 205, 220 (1972). Because the First Amendment does not distinguish between religious belief and religious conduct, conduct motivated by sincere religious belief, like the belief itself, must be at least presumptively protected by the Free Exercise Clause.

The Court today, however, interprets the Clause to permit the government to prohibit, without justification, conduct mandated by an individual's religious beliefs, so long as that prohibition is generally applicable. Ante, at 878. But a law that prohibits certain conduct — conduct that happens to be an act of worship for someone — manifestly does prohibit that person's free exercise of his religion. A person who is barred from engaging in religiously motivated conduct is barred from freely exercising his religion. Moreover, that person is barred from freely exercising his religion regardless of whether the law prohibits the conduct only when engaged in for religious reasons, only by members of that religion, or by all persons. It is difficult to deny that a law that prohibits [894] religiously motivated conduct, even if the law is generally applicable, does not at least implicate First Amendment concerns.

The Court responds that generally applicable laws are "one large step" removed from laws aimed at specific religious practices. Ibid. The First Amendment, however, does not distinguish between laws that are generally applicable and laws that target particular religious practices. Indeed, few States would be so naive as to enact a law directly prohibiting or burdening a religious practice as such. Our free exercise cases have all concerned generally applicable laws that had the effect of significantly burdening a religious practice. If the First Amendment is to have any vitality, it ought not be construed to cover only the extreme and hypothetical situation in which a State directly targets a religious practice. As we have noted in a slightly different context, " `[s]uch a test has no basis in precedent and relegates a serious First Amendment value to the barest level of minimum scrutiny that the Equal Protection Clause already provides.' " Hobbie v. Unemployment Appeals Comm'n of Florida, 480 U. S. 136, 141-142 (1987) (quoting Bowen v. Roy, 476 U. S. 693, 727 (1986) (O'CONNOR, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part)).

To say that a person's right to free exercise has been burdened, of course, does not mean that he has an absolute right to engage in the conduct. Under our established First Amendment jurisprudence, we have recognized that the freedom to act, unlike the freedom to believe, cannot be absolute. See, e. g., Cantwell, supra, at 304; Reynolds v. United States, 98 U. S. 145, 161-167 (1879). Instead, we have respected both the First Amendment's express textual mandate and the governmental interest in regulation of conduct by requiring the government to justify any substantial burden on religiously motivated conduct by a compelling state interest and by means narrowly tailored to achieve that interest. See Hernandez v. Commissioner, 490 U. S. 680, 699 [895] (1989); Hobbie, supra, at 141; United States v. Lee, 455 U. S. 252, 257-258 (1982); Thomas v. Review Bd. of Indiana Employment Security Div., 450 U. S. 707, 718 (1981); McDaniel v. Paty, 435 U. S. 618, 626-629 (1978) (plurality opinion); Yoder, supra, at 215; Gillette v. United States, 401 U. S. 437, 462 (1971); Sherbert v. Verner, 374 U. S. 398, 403 (1963); see also Bowen v. Roy, supra, at 732 (opinion concurring in part and dissenting in part); West Virginia State Bd. of Ed. v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624, 639 (1943). The compelling interest test effectuates the First Amendment's command that religious liberty is an independent liberty, that it occupies a preferred position, and that the Court will not permit encroachments upon this liberty, whether direct or indirect, unless required by clear and compelling governmental interests "of the highest order," Yoder, supra, at 215. "Only an especially important governmental interest pursued by narrowly tailored means can justify exacting a sacrifice of First Amendment freedoms as the price for an equal share of the rights, benefits, and privileges enjoyed by other citizens." Roy, supra, at 728 (opinion concurring in part and dissenting in part).

The Court attempts to support its narrow reading of the Clause by claiming that "[w]e have never held that an individual's religious beliefs excuse him from compliance with an otherwise valid law prohibiting conduct that the State is free to regulate." Ante, at 878-879. But as the Court later notes, as it must, in cases such as Cantwell and Yoder we have in fact interpreted the Free Exercise Clause to forbid application of a generally applicable prohibition to religiously motivated conduct. See Cantwell, supra, at 304-307; Yoder, 406 U. S., at 214-234. Indeed, in Yoder we expressly rejected the interpretation the Court now adopts:

"[O]ur decisions have rejected the idea that religiously grounded conduct is always outside the protection of the Free Exercise Clause. It is true that activities of individuals, even when religiously based, are often subject [896] to regulation by the States in the exercise of their undoubted power to promote the health, safety, and general welfare, or the Federal Government in the exercise of its delegated powers. But to agree that religiously grounded conduct must often be subject to the broad police power of the State is not to deny that there 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 government neutrality if it unduly burdens the free exercise of religion." Id., at 219-220 (emphasis added; citations omitted).

The Court endeavors to escape from our decisions in Cantwell and Yoder by labeling them "hybrid" decisions, ante, at 892, but there is no denying that both cases expressly relied on the Free Exercise Clause, see Cantwell, 310 U. S., at 303-307; Yoder, supra, at 219-229, and that we have consistently regarded those cases as part of the mainstream of our free exercise jurisprudence. Moreover, in each of the other cases cited by the Court to support its categorical rule, ante, at 879-880, we rejected the particular constitutional claims before us only after carefully weighing the competing interests. See Prince v. Massachusetts, 321 U. S. 158, 168-170 (1944) (state interest in regulating children's activities justifies denial of religious exemption from child labor laws); Braunfeld v. Brown, 366 U. S. 599, 608-609 (1961) (plurality opinion) (state interest in uniform day of rest justifies denial of religious exemption from Sunday closing law); Gillette, supra, at 462 (state interest in military affairs justifies denial of religious exemption from conscription laws); Lee, supra, at 258-259 (state interest in comprehensive Social Security system justifies denial of religious exemption from mandatory participation requirement). That we rejected the free exercise [897] claims in those cases hardly calls into question the applicability of First Amendment doctrine in the first place. Indeed, it is surely unusual to judge the vitality of a constitutional doctrine by looking to the win-loss record of the plaintiffs who happen to come before us.

B

Respondents, of course, do not contend that their conduct is automatically immune from all governmental regulation simply because it is motivated by their sincere religious beliefs. The Court's rejection of that argument, ante, at 882, might therefore be regarded as merely harmless dictum. Rather, respondents invoke our traditional compelling interest test to argue that the Free Exercise Clause requires the State to grant them a limited exemption from its general criminal prohibition against the possession of peyote. The Court today, however, denies them even the opportunity to make that argument, concluding that "the sounder approach, and the approach in accord with the vast majority of our precedents, is to hold the [compelling interest] test inapplicable to" challenges to general criminal prohibitions. Ante, at 885.

In my view, however, the essence of a free exercise claim is relief from a burden imposed by government on religious practices or beliefs, whether the burden is imposed directly through laws that prohibit or compel specific religious practices, or indirectly through laws that, in effect, make abandonment of one's own religion or conformity to the religious beliefs of others the price of an equal place in the civil community. As we explained in Thomas:

"Where the state conditions receipt of an important benefit upon conduct proscribed by a religious faith, or where it denies such a benefit because of conduct mandated by religious belief, thereby putting substantial pressure on an adherent to modify his behavior and to violate his beliefs, a burden upon religion exists." 450 U. S., at 717-718.

[898] See also Frazee v. Illinois Dept. of Employment Security, 489 U. S. 829, 832 (1989); Hobbie, 480 U. S., at 141. A State that makes criminal an individual's religiously motivated conduct burdens that individual's free exercise of religion in the severest manner possible, for it "results in the choice to the individual of either abandoning his religious principle or facing criminal prosecution." Braunfeld, supra, at 605. I would have thought it beyond argument that such laws implicate free exercise concerns.

Indeed, we have never distinguished between cases in which a State conditions receipt of a benefit on conduct prohibited by religious beliefs and cases in which a State affirmatively prohibits such conduct. The Sherbert compelling interest test applies in both kinds of cases. See, e. g., Lee, 455 U. S., at 257-260 (applying Sherbert to uphold Social Security tax liability); Gillette, 401 U. S., at 462 (applying Sherbert to uphold military conscription requirement); Yoder, 406 U. S., at 215-234 (applying Sherbert to strike down criminal convictions for violation of compulsory school attendance law). As I noted in Bowen v. Roy:

"The fact that the underlying dispute involves an award of benefits rather than an exaction of penalties does not grant the Government license to apply a different version of the Constitution. . . .
". . . The fact that appellees seek exemption from a precondition that the Government attaches to an award of benefits does not, therefore, generate a meaningful distinction between this case and one where appellees seek an exemption from the Government's imposition of penalties upon them." 476 U. S., at 731-732 (opinion concurring in part and dissenting in part).

See also Hobbie, supra, at 141-142; Sherbert, 374 U. S., at 404. I would reaffirm that principle today: A neutral criminal law prohibiting conduct that a State may legitimately regulate is, if anything, more burdensome than a neutral civil [899] statute placing legitimate conditions on the award of a state benefit.

Legislatures, of course, have always been "left free to reach actions which were in violation of social duties or subversive of good order." Reynolds, 98 U. S., at 164; see also Yoder, supra, at 219-220; Braunfeld, 366 U. S., at 603-604. Yet because of the close relationship between conduct and religious belief, "[i]n every case the power to regulate must be so exercised as not, in attaining a permissible end, unduly to infringe the protected freedom." Cantwell, 310 U. S., at 304. Once it has been shown that a government regulation or criminal prohibition burdens the free exercise of religion, we have consistently asked the government to demonstrate that unbending application of its regulation to the religious objector "is essential to accomplish an overriding governmental interest," Lee, supra, at 257-258, or represents "the least restrictive means of achieving some compelling state interest," Thomas, supra, at 718. See, e. g., Braunfeld, supra, at 607; Sherbert, supra, at 406; Yoder, supra, at 214-215; Roy, 476 U. S., at 728-732 (opinion concurring in part and dissenting in part). To me, the sounder approach — the approach more consistent with our role as judges to decide each case on its individual merits — is to apply this test in each case to determine whether the burden on the specific plaintiffs before us is constitutionally significant and whether the particular criminal interest asserted by the State before us is compelling. Even if, as an empirical matter, a government's criminal laws might usually serve a compelling interest in health, safety, or public order, the First Amendment at least requires a case-by-case determination of the question, sensitive to the facts of each particular claim. Cf. McDaniel, 435 U. S., at 628, n. 8 (plurality opinion) (noting application of Sherbert to general criminal prohibitions and the "delicate balancing required by our decisions in" Sherbert and Yoder). Given the range of conduct that a State might legitimately make [900] criminal, we cannot assume, merely because a law carries criminal sanctions and is generally applicable, that the First Amendment never requires the State to grant a limited exemption for religiously motivated conduct.

Moreover, we have not "rejected" or "declined to apply" the compelling interest test in our recent cases. Ante, at 883-884. Recent cases have instead affirmed that test as a fundamental part of our First Amendment doctrine. See, e. g., Hernandez, 490 U. S., at 699; Hobbie, supra, at 141-142 (rejecting Chief Justice Burger's suggestion in Roy, supra, at 707-708, that free exercise claims be assessed under a less rigorous "reasonable means" standard). The cases cited by the Court signal no retreat from our consistent adherence to the compelling interest test. In both Bowen v. Roy, supra, and Lyng v. Northwest Indian Cemetery Protective Assn., 485 U. S. 439 (1988), for example, we expressly distinguished Sherbert on the ground that the First Amendment does not "require the Government itself to behave in ways that the individual believes will further his or her spiritual development . . . . The Free Exercise Clause simply cannot be understood to require the Government to conduct its own internal affairs in ways that comport with the religious beliefs of particular citizens." Roy, supra, at 699; see Lyng, supra, at 449. This distinction makes sense because "the Free Exercise Clause is written in terms of what the government cannot do to the individual, not in terms of what the individual can exact from the government." Sherbert, supra, at 412 (Douglas, J., concurring). Because the case sub judice, like the other cases in which we have applied Sherbert, plainly falls into the former category, I would apply those established precedents to the facts of this case.

Similarly, the other cases cited by the Court for the proposition that we have rejected application of the Sherbert test outside the unemployment compensation field, ante, at 884, are distinguishable because they arose in the narrow, specialized contexts in which we have not traditionally required [901] the government to justify a burden on religious conduct by articulating a compelling interest. See Goldman v. Weinberger, 475 U. S. 503, 507 (1986) ("Our review of military regulations challenged on First Amendment grounds is far more deferential than constitutional review of similar laws or regulations designed for civilian society"); O'Lone v. Estate of Shabazz, 482 U. S. 342, 349 (1987) ("[P]rison regulations alleged to infringe constitutional rights are judged under a `reasonableness' test less restrictive than that ordinarily applied to alleged infringements of fundamental constitutional rights") (citation omitted). That we did not apply the compelling interest test in these cases says nothing about whether the test should continue to apply in paradigm free exercise cases such as the one presented here.

The Court today gives no convincing reason to depart from settled First Amendment jurisprudence. There is nothing talismanic about neutral laws of general applicability or general criminal prohibitions, for laws neutral toward religion can coerce a person to violate his religious conscience or intrude upon his religious duties just as effectively as laws aimed at religion. Although the Court suggests that the compelling interest test, as applied to generally applicable laws, would result in a "constitutional anomaly," ante, at 886, the First Amendment unequivocally makes freedom of religion, like freedom from race discrimination and freedom of speech, a "constitutional nor[m]," not an "anomaly." Ibid. Nor would application of our established free exercise doctrine to this case necessarily be incompatible with our equal protection cases. Cf. Rogers v. Lodge, 458 U. S. 613, 618 (1982) (race-neutral law that " `bears more heavily on one race than another' " may violate equal protection) (citation omitted); Castaneda v. Partida, 430 U. S. 482, 492-495 (1977) (grand jury selection). We have in any event recognized that the Free Exercise Clause protects values distinct from those protected by the Equal Protection Clause. See Hobbie, 480 U. S., at 141-142. As the language of the [902] Clause itself makes clear, an individual's free exercise of religion is a preferred constitutional activity. See, e. g., McConnell, Accommodation of Religion, 1985 S. Ct. Rev. 1, 9 ("[T]he text of the First Amendment itself `singles out' religion for special protections"); P. Kauper, Religion and the Constitution 17 (1964). A law that makes criminal such an activity therefore triggers constitutional concern — and heightened judicial scrutiny — even if it does not target the particular religious conduct at issue. Our free speech cases similarly recognize that neutral regulations that affect free speech values are subject to a balancing, rather than categorical, approach. See, e. g., United States v. O'Brien, 391 U. S. 367, 377 (1968); Renton v. Playtime Theatres, Inc., 475 U. S. 41, 46-47 (1986); cf. Anderson v. Celebrezze, 460 U. S. 780, 792-794 (1983) (generally applicable laws may impinge on free association concerns). The Court's parade of horribles, ante, at 888-889, not only fails as a reason for discarding the compelling interest test, it instead demonstrates just the opposite: that courts have been quite capable of applying our free exercise jurisprudence to strike sensible balances between religious liberty and competing state interests.

Finally, the Court today suggests that the disfavoring of minority religions is an "unavoidable consequence" under our system of government and that accommodation of such religions must be left to the political process. Ante, at 890. In my view, however, the First Amendment was enacted precisely to protect the rights of those whose religious practices are not shared by the majority and may be viewed with hostility. The history of our free exercise doctrine amply demonstrates the harsh impact majoritarian rule has had on unpopular or emerging religious groups such as the Jehovah's Witnesses and the Amish. Indeed, the words of Justice Jackson in West Virginia State Bd. of Ed. v. Barnette (overruling Minersville School Dist. v. Gobitis, 310 U. S. 586 (1940)) are apt:

[903] "The 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 and to establish them as legal principles to be applied by the courts. One's right to life, liberty, and property, to free speech, a free press, freedom of worship and assembly, and other fundamental rights may not be submitted to vote; they depend on the outcome of no elections." 319 U. S., at 638.

See also United States v. Ballard, 322 U. S. 78, 87 (1944) ("The Fathers of the Constitution were not unaware of the varied and extreme views of religious sects, of the violence of disagreement among them, and of the lack of any one religious creed on which all men would agree. They fashioned a charter of government which envisaged the widest possible toleration of conflicting views"). The compelling interest test reflects the First Amendment's mandate of preserving religious liberty to the fullest extent possible in a pluralistic society. For the Court to deem this command a "luxury," ante, at 888, is to denigrate "[t]he very purpose of a Bill of Rights."

III

The Court's holding today not only misreads settled First Amendment precedent; it appears to be unnecessary to this case. I would reach the same result applying our established free exercise jurisprudence.

A

There is no dispute that Oregon's criminal prohibition of peyote places a severe burden on the ability of respondents to freely exercise their religion. Peyote is a sacrament of the Native American Church and is regarded as vital to respondents' ability to practice their religion. See O. Stewart, Peyote Religion: A History 327-336 (1987) (describing modern status of peyotism); E. Anderson, Peyote: The Divine Cactus 41-65 (1980) (describing peyote ceremonies); Teachings from [904] the American Earth: Indian Religion and Philosophy 96-104 (D. Tedlock & B. Tedlock eds. 1975) (same); see also People v. Woody, 61 Cal. 2d 716, 721-722, 394 P. 2d 813, 817-818 (1964). As we noted in Smith I, the Oregon Supreme Court concluded that "the Native American Church is a recognized religion, that peyote is a sacrament of that church, and that respondent's beliefs were sincerely held." 485 U. S., at 667. Under Oregon law, as construed by that State's highest court, members of the Native American Church must choose between carrying out the ritual embodying their religious beliefs and avoidance of criminal prosecution. That choice is, in my view, more than sufficient to trigger First Amendment scrutiny.

There is also no dispute that Oregon has a significant interest in enforcing laws that control the possession and use of controlled substances by its citizens. See, e. g., Sherbert, 374 U. S., at 403 (religiously motivated conduct may be regulated where such conduct "pose[s] some substantial threat to public safety, peace or order"); Yoder, 406 U. S., at 220 ("[A]ctivities of individuals, even when religiously based, are often subject to regulation by the States in the exercise of their undoubted power to promote the health, safety, and general welfare"). As we recently noted, drug abuse is "one of the greatest problems affecting the health and welfare of our population" and thus "one of the most serious problems confronting our society today." Treasury Employees v. Von Raab, 489 U. S. 656, 668, 674 (1989). Indeed, under federal law (incorporated by Oregon law in relevant part, see Ore. Rev. Stat. § 475.005(6) (1987)), peyote is specifically regulated as a Schedule I controlled substance, which means that Congress has found that it has a high potential for abuse, that there is no currently accepted medical use, and that there is a lack of accepted safety for use of the drug under medical supervision. See 21 U. S. C. § 812(b)(1). See generally R. Julien, A Primer of Drug Action 149 (3d ed. 1981). In light of our recent decisions holding that the governmental [905] interests in the collection of income tax, Hernandez, 490 U. S., at 699-700, a comprehensive Social Security system, see Lee, 455 U. S., at 258-259, and military conscription, see Gillette, 401 U. S., at 460, are compelling, respondents do not seriously dispute that Oregon has a compelling interest in prohibiting the possession of peyote by its citizens.

B

Thus, the critical question in this case is whether exempting respondents from the State's general criminal prohibition "will unduly interfere with fulfillment of the governmental interest." Lee, supra, at 259; see also Roy, 476 U. S., at 727 ("[T]he Government must accommodate a legitimate free exercise claim unless pursuing an especially important interest by narrowly tailored means"); Yoder, supra, at 221; Braunfeld, 366 U. S., at 605-607. Although the question is close, I would conclude that uniform application of Oregon's criminal prohibition is "essential to accomplish," Lee, supra, at 257, its overriding interest in preventing the physical harm caused by the use of a Schedule I controlled substance. Oregon's criminal prohibition represents that State's judgment that the possession and use of controlled substances, even by only one person, is inherently harmful and dangerous. Because the health effects caused by the use of controlled substances exist regardless of the motivation of the user, the use of such substances, even for religious purposes, violates the very purpose of the laws that prohibit them. Cf. State v. Massey, 229 N. C. 734, 51 S. E. 2d 179 (denying religious exemption to municipal ordinance prohibiting handling of poisonous reptiles), appeal dism'd sub nom. Bunn v. North Carolina, 336 U. S. 942 (1949). Moreover, in view of the societal interest in preventing trafficking in controlled substances, uniform application of the criminal prohibition at issue is essential to the effectiveness of Oregon's stated interest in preventing any possession of peyote. Cf. Jacobson v. [906] Massachusetts, 197 U. S. 11 (1905) (denying exemption from small pox vaccination requirement).

For these reasons, I believe that granting a selective exemption in this case would seriously impair Oregon's compelling interest in prohibiting possession of peyote by its citizens. Under such circumstances, the Free Exercise Clause does not require the State to accommodate respondents' religiously motivated conduct. See, e. g., Thomas, 450 U. S., at 719. Unlike in Yoder, where we noted that "[t]he record strongly indicates that accommodating the religious objections of the Amish by forgoing one, or at most two, additional years of compulsory education will not impair the physical or mental health of the child, or result in an inability to be self-supporting or to discharge the duties and responsibilities of citizenship, or in any other way materially detract from the welfare of society," 406 U. S., at 234; see also id., at 238-240 (WHITE, J., concurring), a religious exemption in this case would be incompatible with the State's interest in controlling use and possession of illegal drugs.

Respondents contend that any incompatibility is belied by the fact that the Federal Government and several States provide exemptions for the religious use of peyote, see 21 CFR § 1307.31 (1989); 307 Ore., at 73, n. 2, 763 P. 2d, at 148, n. 2 (citing 11 state statutes that expressly exempt sacramental peyote use from criminal proscription). But other governments may surely choose to grant an exemption without Oregon, with its specific asserted interest in uniform application of its drug laws, being required to do so by the First Amendment. Respondents also note that the sacramental use of peyote is central to the tenets of the Native American Church, but I agree with the Court, ante, at 886-887, that because " `[i]t is not within the judicial ken to question the centrality of particular beliefs or practices to a faith,' " quoting Hernandez, supra, at 699, our determination of the constitutionality of Oregon's general criminal prohibition cannot, and should not, turn on the centrality of the particular [907] religious practice at issue. This does not mean, of course, that courts may not make factual findings as to whether a claimant holds a sincerely held religious belief that conflicts with, and thus is burdened by, the challenged law. The distinction between questions of centrality and questions of sincerity and burden is admittedly fine, but it is one that is an established part of our free exercise doctrine, see Ballard, 322 U. S., at 85-88, and one that courts are capable of making. See Tony and Susan Alamo Foundation v. Secretary of Labor, 471 U. S. 290, 303-305 (1985).

I would therefore adhere to our established free exercise jurisprudence and hold that the State in this case has a compelling interest in regulating peyote use by its citizens and that accommodating respondents' religiously motivated conduct "will unduly interfere with fulfillment of the governmental interest." Lee, supra, at 259. Accordingly, I concur in the judgment of the Court.

JUSTICE BLACKMUN, with whom JUSTICE BRENNAN and JUSTICE MARSHALL join, dissenting.

This Court over the years painstakingly has developed a consistent and exacting standard to test the constitutionality of a state statute that burdens the free exercise of religion. Such a statute may stand only if the law in general, and the State's refusal to allow a religious exemption in particular, are justified by a compelling interest that cannot be served by less restrictive means.[1]

[908] Until today, I thought this was a settled and inviolate principle of this Court's First Amendment jurisprudence. The majority, however, perfunctorily dismisses it as a "constitutional anomaly." Ante, at 886. As carefully detailed in JUSTICE O'CONNOR's concurring opinion, ante, p. 891, the majority is able to arrive at this view only by mischaracterizing this Court's precedents. The Court discards leading free exercise cases such as Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U. S. 296 (1940), and Wisconsin v. Yoder, 406 U. S. 205 (1972), as "hybrid." Ante, at 882. The Court views traditional free exercise analysis as somehow inapplicable to criminal prohibitions (as opposed to conditions on the receipt of benefits), and to state laws of general applicability (as opposed, presumably, to laws that expressly single out religious practices). Ante, at 884-885. The Court cites cases in which, due to various exceptional circumstances, we found strict scrutiny inapposite, to hint that the Court has repudiated that standard altogether. Ante, at 882-884. In short, it effectuates a wholesale overturning of settled law concerning the Religion Clauses of our Constitution. One hopes that the Court is aware of the consequences, and that its result is not a product of overreaction to the serious problems the country's drug crisis has generated.

This distorted view of our precedents leads the majority to conclude that strict scrutiny of a state law burdening the free exercise of religion is a "luxury" that a well-ordered society [909] cannot afford, ante, at 888, and that the repression of minority religions is an "unavoidable consequence of democratic government." Ante, at 890. I do not believe the Founders thought their dearly bought freedom from religious persecution a "luxury," but an essential element of liberty — and they could not have thought religious intolerance "unavoidable," for they drafted the Religion Clauses precisely in order to avoid that intolerance.

For these reasons, I agree with JUSTICE O'CONNOR's analysis of the applicable free exercise doctrine, and I join parts I and II of her opinion.[2] As she points out, "the critical question in this case is whether exempting respondents from the State's general criminal prohibition `will unduly interfere with fulfillment of the governmental interest.' " Ante, at 905, quoting United States v. Lee, 455 U. S. 252, 259 (1982). I do disagree, however, with her specific answer to that question.

I

In weighing the clear interest of respondents Smith and Black (hereinafter respondents) in the free exercise of their religion against Oregon's asserted interest in enforcing its drug laws, it is important to articulate in precise terms the state interest involved. It is not the State's broad interest [910] in fighting the critical "war on drugs" that must be weighed against respondents' claim, but the State's narrow interest in refusing to make an exception for the religious, ceremonial use of peyote. See Bowen v. Roy, 476 U. S. 693, 728 (1986) (O'CONNOR, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part) ("This Court has consistently asked the Government to demonstrate that unbending application of its regulation to the religious objector `is essential to accomplish an overriding governmental interest,' " quoting Lee, 455 U. S., at 257-258); Thomas v. Review Bd. of Indiana Employment Security Div., 450 U. S. 707, 719 (1981) ("focus of the inquiry" concerning State's asserted interest must be "properly narrowed"); Yoder, 406 U. S., at 221 ("Where fundamental claims of religious freedom are at stake," the Court will not accept a State's "sweeping claim" that its interest in compulsory education is compelling; despite the validity of this interest "in the generality of cases, we must searchingly examine the interests that the State seeks to promote . . . and the impediment to those objectives that would flow from recognizing the claimed Amish exemption"). Failure to reduce the competing interests to the same plane of generality tends to distort the weighing process in the State's favor. See Clark, Guidelines for the Free Exercise Clause, 83 Harv. L. Rev. 327, 330-331 (1969) ("The purpose of almost any law can be traced back to one or another of the fundamental concerns of government: public health and safety, public peace and order, defense, revenue. To measure an individual interest directly against one of these rarified values inevitably makes the individual interest appear the less significant"); Pound, A Survey of Social Interests, 57 Harv. L. Rev. 1, 2 (1943) ("When it comes to weighing or valuing claims or demands with respect to other claims or demands, we must be careful to compare them on the same plane . . . [or else] we may decide the question in advance in our very way of putting it").

The State's interest in enforcing its prohibition, in order to be sufficiently compelling to outweigh a free exercise claim, [911] cannot be merely abstract or symbolic. The State cannot plausibly assert that unbending application of a criminal prohibition is essential to fulfill any compelling interest, if it does not, in fact, attempt to enforce that prohibition. In this case, the State actually has not evinced any concrete interest in enforcing its drug laws against religious users of peyote. Oregon has never sought to prosecute respondents, and does not claim that it has made significant enforcement efforts against other religious users of peyote.[3] The State's asserted interest thus amounts only to the symbolic preservation of an unenforced prohibition. But a government interest in "symbolism, even symbolism for so worthy a cause as the abolition of unlawful drugs," Treasury Employees v. Von Raab, 489 U. S. 656, 687 (1989) (SCALIA, J., dissenting), cannot suffice to abrogate the constitutional rights of individuals.

Similarly, this Court's prior decisions have not allowed a government to rely on mere speculation about potential harms, but have demanded evidentiary support for a refusal to allow a religious exception. See Thomas, 450 U. S., at 719 (rejecting State's reasons for refusing religious exemption, for lack of "evidence in the record"); Yoder, 406 U. S., at 224-229 (rejecting State's argument concerning the dangers of a religious exemption as speculative, and unsupported by the record); Sherbert v. Verner, 374 U. S. 398, 407 (1963) ("[T]here is no proof whatever to warrant such fears . . . as those which the [State] now advance[s]"). In this case, the State's justification for refusing to recognize an exception to its criminal laws for religious peyote use is entirely speculative.

The State proclaims an interest in protecting the health and safety of its citizens from the dangers of unlawful drugs. It offers, however, no evidence that the religious use of peyote [912] has ever harmed anyone.[4] The factual findings of other courts cast doubt on the State's assumption that religious use of peyote is harmful. See State v. Whittingham, 19 Ariz. App. 27, 30, 504 P. 2d 950, 953 (1973) ("[T]he State failed to prove that the quantities of peyote used in the sacraments of the Native American Church are sufficiently harmful to the health and welfare of the participants so as to permit a legitimate intrusion under the State's police power"); People v. Woody, 61 Cal. 2d 716, 722-723, 394 P. 2d 813, 818 (1964) ("[A]s the Attorney General . . . admits, . . . the opinion of scientists and other experts is `that peyote . . . works no permanent deleterious injury to the Indian' ").

The fact that peyote is classified as a Schedule I controlled substance does not, by itself, show that any and all uses of peyote, in any circumstance, are inherently harmful and dangerous. The Federal Government, which created the classifications of unlawful drugs from which Oregon's drug laws are derived, apparently does not find peyote so dangerous as to preclude an exemption for religious use.[5] Moreover, [913] other Schedule I drugs have lawful uses. See Olsen v. Drug Enforcement Admin., 279 U. S. App. D. C. 1, 6, n. 4, 878 F. 2d 1458, 1463, n. 4 (medical and research uses of marijuana).

The carefully circumscribed ritual context in which respondents used peyote is far removed from the irresponsible and unrestricted recreational use of unlawful drugs.[6] The Native American Church's internal restrictions on, and supervision of, its members' use of peyote substantially obviate the State's health and safety concerns. See id., at 10, 878 F. 2d, at 1467 (" `The Administrator [of the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA)] finds that . . . the Native American Church's use of peyote is isolated to specific ceremonial occasions,' " and so " `an accommodation can be made for a religious organization which uses peyote in circumscribed ceremonies' " (quoting DEA Final Order)); id., at 7, 878 F. 2d, at 1464 ("[F]or members of the Native American Church, use of peyote outside the ritual is sacrilegious"); Woody, 61 Cal. 2d, at 721, 394 P. 2d, at 817 ("[T]o use peyote for nonreligious purposes is sacrilegious"); R. Julien, A Primer of Drug Action 148 (3d ed. 1981) ("[P]eyote is seldom abused by members of the Native American [914] Church"); Slotkin, The Peyote Way, in Teachings from the American Earth 96, 104 (D. Tedlock & B. Tedlock eds. 1975) ("[T]he Native American Church . . . refuses to permit the presence of curiosity seekers at its rites, and vigorously opposes the sale or use of Peyote for non-sacramental purposes"); Bergman, Navajo Peyote Use: Its Apparent Safety, 128 Am. J. Psychiatry 695 (1971) (Bergman).[7]

Moreover, just as in Yoder, the values and interests of those seeking a religious exemption in this case are congruent, to a great degree, with those the State seeks to promote through its drug laws. See Yoder, 406 U. S., at 224, 228-229 (since the Amish accept formal schooling up to 8th grade, and then provide "ideal" vocational education, State's interest in enforcing its law against the Amish is "less substantial than . . . for children generally"); id., at 238 (WHITE, J., concurring). Not only does the church's doctrine forbid nonreligious use of peyote; it also generally advocates self-reliance, familial responsibility, and abstinence from alcohol. See Brief for Association on American Indian Affairs et al. as Amici Curiae 33-34 (the church's "ethical code" has four parts: brotherly love, care of family, self-reliance, and avoidance of alcohol (quoting from the church membership card)); Olsen, 279 U. S. App. D. C., at 7, 878 F. 2d, at 1464 (the Native American Church, "for all purposes other than the special, stylized ceremony, reinforced the state's prohibition"); [915] Woody, 61 Cal. 2d, at 721-722, n. 3, 394 P. 2d, at 818, n. 3 ("[M]ost anthropological authorities hold Peyotism to be a positive, rather than negative, force in the lives of its adherents. . . the church forbids the use of alcohol . . ."). There is considerable evidence that the spiritual and social support provided by the church has been effective in combating the tragic effects of alcoholism on the Native American population. Two noted experts on peyotism, Dr. Omer C. Stewart and Dr. Robert Bergman, testified by affidavit to this effect on behalf of respondent Smith before the Employment Appeal Board. Smith Tr., Exh. 7; see also E. Anderson, Peyote: The Divine Cactus 165-166 (1980) (research by Dr. Bergman suggests "that the religious use of peyote seemed to be directed in an ego-strengthening direction with an emphasis on interpersonal relationships where each individual is assured of his own significance as well as the support of the group"; many people have " `come through difficult crises with the help of this religion . . . . It provides real help in seeing themselves not as people whose place and way in the world is gone, but as people whose way can be strong enough to change and meet new challenges' " (quoting Bergman 698)); Pascarosa & Futterman, Ethnopsychedelic Therapy for Alcoholics: Observations in the Peyote Ritual of the Native American Church, 8 J. of Psychedelic Drugs, No. 3, p. 215 (1976) (religious peyote use has been helpful in overcoming alcoholism); Albaugh & Anderson, Peyote in the Treatment of Alcoholism among American Indians, 131 Am. J. Psychiatry 1247, 1249 (1974) ("[T]he philosophy, teachings, and format of the [Native American Church] can be of great benefit to the Indian alcoholic"); see generally O. Stewart, Peyote Religion 75 et seq. (1987) (noting frequent observations, across many tribes and periods in history, of correlation between peyotist religion and abstinence from alcohol). Far from promoting the lawless and irresponsible use of drugs, Native American Church members' spiritual [916] code exemplifies values that Oregon's drug laws are presumably intended to foster.

The State also seeks to support its refusal to make an exception for religious use of peyote by invoking its interest in abolishing drug trafficking. There is, however, practically no illegal traffic in peyote. See Olsen, 279 U. S. App. D. C., at 6, 7, 878 F. 2d, at 1463, 1467 (quoting DEA Final Order to the effect that total amount of peyote seized and analyzed by federal authorities between 1980 and 1987 was 19.4 pounds; in contrast, total amount of marijuana seized during that period was over 15 million pounds). Also, the availability of peyote for religious use, even if Oregon were to allow an exemption from its criminal laws, would still be strictly controlled by federal regulations, see 21 U. S. C. §§ 821-823 (registration requirements for distribution of controlled substances); 21 CFR § 1307.31 (1989) (distribution of peyote to Native American Church subject to registration requirements), and by the State of Texas, the only State in which peyote grows in significant quantities. See Texas Health & Safety Code Ann. § 481.111 (1990 pamphlet); Texas Admin. Code, Tit. 37, pt. 1, ch. 13, Controlled Substances Regulations, §§ 13.35-13.41 (1989); Woody, 61 Cal. 2d, at 720, 394 P. 2d, at 816 (peyote is "found in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas and northern Mexico"). Peyote simply is not a popular drug; its distribution for use in religious rituals has nothing to do with the vast and violent traffic in illegal narcotics that plagues this country.

Finally, the State argues that granting an exception for religious peyote use would erode its interest in the uniform, fair, and certain enforcement of its drug laws. The State fears that, if it grants an exemption for religious peyote use, a flood of other claims to religious exemptions will follow. It would then be placed in a dilemma, it says, between allowing a patchwork of exemptions that would hinder its law enforcement efforts, and risking a violation of the Establishment Clause by arbitrarily limiting its religious exemptions. This [917] argument, however, could be made in almost any free exercise case. See Lupu, Where Rights Begin: The Problem of Burdens on the Free Exercise of Religion, 102 Harv. L. Rev. 933, 947 (1989) ("Behind every free exercise claim is a spectral march; grant this one, a voice whispers to each judge, and you will be confronted with an endless chain of exemption demands from religious deviants of every stripe"). This Court, however, consistently has rejected similar arguments in past free exercise cases, and it should do so here as well. See Frazee v. Illinois Dept. of Employment Security, 489 U. S. 829, 835 (1989) (rejecting State's speculation concerning cumulative effect of many similar claims); Thomas, 450 U. S., at 719 (same); Sherbert, 374 U. S., at 407.

The State's apprehension of a flood of other religious claims is purely speculative. Almost half the States, and the Federal Government, have maintained an exemption for religious peyote use for many years, and apparently have not found themselves overwhelmed by claims to other religious exemptions.[8] Allowing an exemption for religious peyote use [918] would not necessarily oblige the State to grant a similar exemption to other religious groups. The unusual circumstances that make the religious use of peyote compatible with the State's interests in health and safety and in preventing drug trafficking would not apply to other religious claims. Some religions, for example, might not restrict drug use to a limited ceremonial context, as does the Native American Church. See, e. g., Olsen, 279 U. S. App. D. C., at 7, 878 F. 2d, at 1464 ("[T]he Ethiopian Zion Coptic Church . . . teaches that marijuana is properly smoked `continually all day' "). Some religious claims, see n. 8, supra, involve drugs such as marijuana and heroin, in which there is significant illegal traffic, with its attendant greed and violence, so that it would be difficult to grant a religious exemption without seriously compromising law enforcement efforts.[9] That the State might grant an exemption for religious peyote use, but deny other religious claims arising in different circumstances, would not violate the Establishment Clause. Though the State must treat all religions equally, and not favor one over another, this obligation is fulfilled by the uniform application of the "compelling interest" test to all free exercise claims, not by reaching uniform results as to all claims. A showing that religious peyote use does not unduly interfere with the State's interests is "one that probably few other religious groups or sects could make," Yoder, 406 U. S., at 236; this does not mean that an exemption limited to peyote use is tantamount to an establishment of religion. See Hobbie v. Unemployment Appeals Comm'n of Fla., 480 U. S. 136, 144-145 (1987) ("[T]he government may (and [919] sometimes must) accommodate religious practices and . . . may do so without violating the Establishment Clause"); Yoder, 406 U. S., at 220-221 ("Court must not ignore the danger that an exception from a general [law] . . . may run afoul of the Establishment Clause, but that danger cannot be allowed to prevent any exception no matter how vital it may be to the protection of values promoted by the right of free exercise"); id., at 234, n. 22.

II

Finally, although I agree with JUSTICE O'CONNOR that courts should refrain from delving into questions whether, as a matter of religious doctrine, a particular practice is "central" to the religion, ante, at 906-907, I do not think this means that the courts must turn a blind eye to the severe impact of a State's restrictions on the adherents of a minority religion. Cf. Yoder, 406 U. S., at 219 (since "education is inseparable from and a part of the basic tenets of their religion. . . [, just as] baptism, the confessional, or a sabbath may be for others," enforcement of State's compulsory education law would "gravely endanger if not destroy the free exercise of respondents' religious beliefs").

Respondents believe, and their sincerity has never been at issue, that the peyote plant embodies their deity, and eating it is an act of worship and communion. Without peyote, they could not enact the essential ritual of their religion. See Brief for Association on American Indian Affairs et al. as Amici Curiae 5-6 ("To the members, peyote is consecrated with powers to heal body, mind and spirit. It is a teacher; it teaches the way to spiritual life through living in harmony and balance with the forces of the Creation. The rituals are an integral part of the life process. They embody a form of worship in which the sacrament Peyote is the means for communicating with the Great Spirit"). See also O. Stewart, Peyote Religion 327-330 (1987) (description of peyote ritual); [920] T. Hillerman, People of Darkness 153 (1980) (description of Navajo peyote ritual).

If Oregon can constitutionally prosecute them for this act of worship, they, like the Amish, may be "forced to migrate to some other and more tolerant region." Yoder, 406 U. S., at 218. This potentially devastating impact must be viewed in light of the federal policy — reached in reaction to many years of religious persecution and intolerance — of protecting the religious freedom of Native Americans. See American Indian Religious Freedom Act, 92 Stat. 469, 42 U. S. C. § 1996 (1982 ed.) ("[I]t shall be the policy of the United States to protect and preserve for American Indians their inherent right of freedom to believe, express, and exercise the traditional religions . . . , including but not limited to access to sites, use and possession of sacred objects, and the freedom to worship through ceremonials and traditional rites").[10] Congress recognized that certain substances, such as peyote, "have religious significance because they are sacred, they have power, they heal, they are necessary to the exercise of [921] the rites of the religion, they are necessary to the cultural integrity of the tribe, and, therefore, religious survival." H. R. Rep. No. 95-1308, p. 2 (1978).

The American Indian Religious Freedom Act, in itself, may not create rights enforceable against government action restricting religious freedom, but this Court must scrupulously apply its free exercise analysis to the religious claims of Native Americans, however unorthodox they may be. Otherwise, both the First Amendment and the stated policy of Congress will offer to Native Americans merely an unfulfilled and hollow promise.

III

For these reasons, I conclude that Oregon's interest in enforcing its drug laws against religious use of peyote is not sufficiently compelling to outweigh respondents' right to the free exercise of their religion. Since the State could not constitutionally enforce its criminal prohibition against respondents, the interests underlying the State's drug laws cannot justify its denial of unemployment benefits. Absent such justification, the State's regulatory interest in denying benefits for religiously motivated "misconduct," see ante, at 874, is indistinguishable from the state interests this Court has rejected in Frazee, Hobbie, Thomas, and Sherbert. The State of Oregon cannot, consistently with the Free Exercise Clause, deny respondents unemployment benefits.

I dissent.

----------

[*] Briefs of amici curiae urging affirmance were filed for the American Civil Liberties Union et al. by Steven R. Shapiro and John A. Powell; for the American Jewish Congress by Amy Adelson, Lois C. Waldman, and Marc D. Stern; for the Association on American Indian Affairs et al. by Steven C. Moore and Jack Trope; and for the Council on Religious Freedom by Lee Boothby and Robert W. Nixon.

[1] Both lines of cases have specifically adverted to the non-free-exercise principle involved. Cantwell, for example, observed that "[t]he fundamental law declares the interest of the United States that the free exercise of religion be not prohibited and that freedom to communicate information and opinion be not abridged." 310 U. S., at 307. Murdocksaid:

"We do not mean to say that religious groups and the press are free from all financial burdens of government. . . . We have here something quite different, for example, from a tax on the income of one who engages in religious activities or a tax on property used or employed in connection with those activities. It is one thing to impose a tax on the income or property of a preacher. It is quite another thing to exact a tax from him for the privilege of delivering a sermon. . . . Those who can deprive religious groups of their colporteurs can take from them a part of the vital power of the press which has survived from the Reformation." 319 U. S., at 112.

Yoder said that "the Court's holding in Pierce stands as a charter of the rights of parents to direct the religious upbringing of their children. And, when the interests of parenthood are combined with a free exercise claim of the nature revealed by this record, more than merely a `reasonable relation to some purpose within the competency of the State' is required to sustain the validity of the State's requirement under the First Amendment." 406 U. S., at 233.

[2] JUSTICE O'CONNOR seeks to distinguish Lyng v. Northwest Indian Cemetery Protective Assn., 485 U. S. 439 (1988), and Bowen v. Roy, 476 U. S. 693 (1986), on the ground that those cases involved the government's conduct of "its own internal affairs," which is different because, as Justice Douglas said in Sherbert, " `the Free Exercise Clause is written in terms of what the government cannot do to the individual, not in terms of what the individual can exact from the government.' " Post, at 900 (O'CONNOR, J., concurring in judgment), quoting Sherbert v. Verner, 374 U. S. 398, 412 (1963) (Douglas, J., concurring). But since Justice Douglas voted with the majority in Sherbert, that quote obviously envisioned that what "the government cannot do to the individual" includes not just the prohibition of an individual's freedom of action through criminal laws but also the running of its programs (in Sherbert, state unemployment compensation) in such fashion as to harm the individual's religious interests. Moreover, it is hard to see any reason in principle or practically why the government should have to tailor its health and safety laws to conform to the diversity of religious belief, but should not have to tailor its management of public lands, Lyng, supra, or its administration of welfare programs, Roy, supra.

[3] JUSTICE O'CONNOR suggests that "[t]here is nothing talismanic about neutral laws of general applicability," and that all laws burdening religious practices should be subject to compelling-interest scrutiny because "the First Amendment unequivocally makes freedom of religion, like freedom from race discrimination and freedom of speech, a `constitutional nor[m],' not an `anomaly.' " Post, at 901 (opinion concurring in judgment). But this comparison with other fields supports, rather than undermines, the conclusion we draw today. Just as we subject to the most exacting scrutiny laws that make classifications based on race, see Palmore v. Sidoti, 466 U. S. 429 (1984), or on the content of speech, see Sable Communications of California v. FCC, 492 U. S. 115 (1989), so too we strictly scrutinize governmental classifications based on religion, see McDaniel v. Paty, 435 U. S. 618 (1978); see also Torcaso v. Watkins, 367 U. S. 488 (1961). But we have held that race-neutral laws that have the effect of disproportionately disadvantaging a particular racial group do not thereby become subject to compelling-interest analysis under the Equal Protection Clause, see Washington v. Davis, 426 U. S. 229 (1976) (police employment examination); and we have held that generally applicable laws unconcerned with regulating speech that have the effect of interfering with speech do not thereby become subject to compelling-interest analysis under the First Amendment, see Citizen Publishing Co. v. United States, 394 U. S. 131, 139 (1969) (antitrust laws). Our conclusion that generally applicable, religion-neutral laws that have the effect of burdening a particular religious practice need not be justified by a compelling governmental interest is the only approach compatible with these precedents.

[4] While arguing that we should apply the compelling interest test in this case, JUSTICE O'CONNOR nonetheless agrees that "our determination of the constitutionality of Oregon's general criminal prohibition cannot, and should not, turn on the centrality of the particular religious practice at issue," post, at 906-907 (opinion concurring in judgment). This means, presumably, that compelling-interest scrutiny must be applied to generally applicable laws that regulate or prohibit any religiously motivated activity, no matter how unimportant to the claimant's religion. Earlier in her opinion, however, JUSTICE O'CONNOR appears to contradict this, saying that the proper approach is "to determine whether the burden on the specific plaintiffs before us is constitutionally significant and whether the particular criminal interest asserted by the State before us is compelling." Post, at 899. "Constitutionally significant burden" would seem to be "centrality" under another name. In any case, dispensing with a "centrality" inquiry is utterly unworkable. It would require, for example, the same degree of "compelling state interest" to impede the practice of throwing rice at church weddings as to impede the practice of getting married in church. There is no way out of the difficulty that, if general laws are to be subjected to a "religious practice" exception, both the importance of the law at issue andthe centrality of the practice at issue must reasonably be considered.

Nor is this difficulty avoided by JUSTICE BLACKMUN's assertion that "although . . . courts should refrain from delving into questions whether, as a matter of religious doctrine, a particular practice is `central' to the religion, . . . I do not think this means that the courts must turn a blind eye to the severe impact of a State's restrictions on the adherents of a minority religion." Post, at 919 (dissenting opinion). As JUSTICE BLACKMUN's opinion proceeds to make clear, inquiry into "severe impact" is no different from inquiry into centrality. He has merely substituted for the question "How important is X to the religious adherent?" the question "How great will be the harm to the religious adherent if X is taken away?" There is no material difference.

[5] JUSTICE O'CONNOR contends that the "parade of horribles" in the text only "demonstrates . . . that courts have been quite capable of . . . strik[ing] sensible balances between religious liberty and competing state interests." Post, at 902 (opinion concurring in judgment). But the cases we cite have struck "sensible balances" only because they have all applied the general laws, despite the claims for religious exemption. In any event, JUSTICE O'CONNOR mistakes the purpose of our parade: it is not to suggest that courts would necessarily permit harmful exemptions from these laws (though they might), but to suggest that courts would constantly be in the business of determining whether the "severe impact" of various laws on religious practice (to use JUSTICE BLACKMUN's terminology, post, at 919) or the "constitutiona[l] significan[ce]" of the "burden on the specific plaintiffs" (to use JUSTICE O'CONNOR's terminology, post, at 899) suffices to permit us to confer an exemption. It is a parade of horribles because it is horrible to contemplate that federal judges will regularly balance against the importance of general laws the significance of religious practice.

----------

[*] Although JUSTICE BRENNAN, JUSTICE MARSHALL, and JUSTICE BLACKMUN join Parts I and II of this opinion, they do not concur in the judgment.

[1] See Hernandez v. Commissioner, 490 U. S. 680, 699 (1989) ("The free exercise inquiry asks whether government has placed a substantial burden on the observation of a central religious belief or practice and, if so, whether a compelling governmental interest justifies the burden"); Hobbie v. Unemployment Appeals Comm'n of Fla., 480 U. S. 136, 141 (1987) (state laws burdening religions "must be subjected to strict scrutiny and could be justified only by proof by the State of a compelling interest"); Bowen v. Roy, 476 U. S. 693, 732 (1986) (O'CONNOR, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part) ("Our precedents have long required the Government to show that a compelling state interest is served by its refusal to grant a religious exemption"); United States v. Lee, 455 U. S. 252, 257-258 (1982) ("The state may justify a limitation on religious liberty by showing that it is essential to accomplish an overriding governmental interest"); Thomas v. Review Bd. of Indiana Employment Security Div., 450 U. S. 707, 718 (1981) ("The state may justify an inroad on religious liberty by showing that it is the least restrictive means of achieving some compelling state interest"); Wisconsin v. Yoder, 406 U. S. 205, 215 (1972) ("[O]nly those interests of the highest order and those not otherwise served can overbalance legitimate claims to the free exercise of religion"); Sherbert v. Verner, 374 U. S. 398, 406 (1963) (question is "whether some compelling state interest . . . justifies the substantial infringement of appellant's First Amendment right").

[2] I reluctantly agree that, in light of this Court's decision in Employment Division, Dept. of Human Resources of Ore. v. Smith,485 U. S. 660 (1988), the question on which certiorari was granted is properly presented in this case. I have grave doubts, however, as to the wisdom or propriety of deciding the constitutionality of a criminal prohibition which the State has not sought to enforce, which the State did not rely on in defending its denial of unemployment benefits before the state courts, and which the Oregon courts could, on remand, either invalidate on state constitutional grounds, or conclude that it remains irrelevant to Oregon's interest in administering its unemployment benefits program.

It is surprising, to say the least, that this Court which so often prides itself about principles of judicial restraint and reduction of federal control over matters of state law would stretch its jurisdiction to the limit in order to reach, in this abstract setting, the constitutionality of Oregon's criminal prohibition of peyote use.

[3] The only reported case in which the State of Oregon has sought to prosecute a person for religious peyote use is State v. Soto, 21 Ore. App. 794, 537 P. 2d 142 (1975), cert. denied, 424 U. S. 955 (1976).

[4] This dearth of evidence is not surprising, since the State never asserted this health and safety interest before the Oregon courts; thus, there was no opportunity for factfinding concerning the alleged dangers of peyote use. What has now become the State's principal argument for its view that the criminal prohibition is enforceable against religious use of peyote rests on no evidentiary foundation at all.

[5] See 21 CFR § 1307.31 (1989) ("The listing of peyote as a controlled substance in Schedule I does not apply to the nondrug use of peyote in bona fide religious ceremonies of the Native American Church, and members of the Native American Church so using peyote are exempt from registration. Any person who manufactures peyote for or distributes peyote to the Native American Church, however, is required to obtain registration annually and to comply with all other requirements of law"); see Olsen v. Drug Enforcement Admin.,279 U. S. App. D. C. 1, 6-7, 878 F. 2d 1458, 1463-1464 (1989) (explaining DEA's rationale for the exception).

Moreover, 23 States, including many that have significant Native American populations, have statutory or judicially crafted exemptions in their drug laws for religious use of peyote. See 307 Ore. 68, 73, n. 2, 763 P. 2d 146, 148, n. 2 (1988) (case below). Although this does not prove that Oregon must have such an exception too, it is significant that these States, and the Federal Government, all find their (presumably compelling) interests in controlling the use of dangerous drugs compatible with an exemption for religious use of peyote. Cf. Boos v. Barry, 485 U. S. 312, 329 (1988) (finding that an ordinance restricting picketing near a foreign embassy was not the least restrictive means of serving the asserted government interest; existence of an analogous, but more narrowly drawn, federal statute showed that "a less restrictive alternative is readily available").

[6] In this respect, respondents' use of peyote seems closely analogous to the sacramental use of wine by the Roman Catholic Church. During Prohibition, the Federal Government exempted such use of wine from its general ban on possession and use of alcohol. See National Prohibition Act, Title II, § 3, 41 Stat. 308. However compelling the Government's then general interest in prohibiting the use of alcohol may have been, it could not plausibly have asserted an interest sufficiently compelling to outweigh Catholics' right to take communion.

[7] The use of peyote is, to some degree, self-limiting. The peyote plant is extremely bitter, and eating it is an unpleasant experience, which would tend to discourage casual or recreational use. See State v. Whittingham, 19 Ariz. App. 27, 30, 504 P. 2d 950, 953 (1973) (" `[P]eyote can cause vomiting by reason of its bitter taste' "); E. Anderson, Peyote: The Divine Cactus 161 (1980) ("[T]he eating of peyote usually is a difficult ordeal in that nausea and other unpleasant physical manifestations occur regularly. Repeated use is likely, therefore, only if one is a serious researcher or is devoutly involved in taking peyote as part of a religious ceremony"); Slotkin, The Peyote Way, in Teachings from the American Earth 96, 98 (D. Tedlock & B. Tedlock eds. 1975) ("[M]any find it bitter, inducing indigestion or nausea").

[8] Over the years, various sects have raised free exercise claims regarding drug use. In no reported case, except those involving claims of religious peyote use, has the claimant prevailed. See, e. g., Olsen v. Iowa, 808 F. 2d 652 (CA8 1986) (marijuana use by Ethiopian Zion Coptic Church); United States v. Rush, 738 F. 2d 497 (CA1 1984) (same), cert. denied, 470 U. S. 1004 (1985); United States v. Middleton, 690 F. 2d 820 (CA11 1982) (same), cert denied, 460 U. S. 1051 (1983); United States v. Hudson, 431 F. 2d 468 (CA5 1970) (marijuana and heroin use by Moslems), cert denied, 400 U. S. 1011 (1971); Leary v. United States, 383 F. 2d 851 (CA5 1967) (marijuana use by Hindu), rev'd on other grounds, 395 U. S. 6 (1969); Commonwealth v. Nissenbaum, 404 Mass. 575, 536 N. E. 2d 592 (1989) (marijuana use by Ethiopian Zion Coptic Church); State v. Blake, 5 Haw. App. 411, 695 P. 2d 336 (1985) (marijuana use in practice of Hindu Tantrism); Whyte v. United States, 471 A. 2d 1018 (D. C. App. 1984) (marijuana use by Rastafarian); State v. Rocheleau, 142 Vt. 61, 451 A. 2d 1144 (1982) (marijuana use by Tantric Buddhist); State v. Brashear, 92 N. M. 622, 593 P. 2d 63 (1979) (marijuana use by nondenominational Christian); State v. Randall, 540 S. W. 2d 156 (Mo. App. 1976) (marijuana, LSD, and hashish use by Aquarian Brotherhood Church). See generally Annotation, Free Exercise of Religion as Defense to Prosecution for Narcotic or Psychedelic Drug Offense, 35 A. L. R. 3d 939 (1971 and Supp. 1989).

[9] Thus, this case is distinguishable from United States v. Lee, 455 U. S. 252 (1982), in which the Court concluded that there was "no principled way" to distinguish other exemption claims, and the "tax system could not function if denominations were allowed to challenge the tax system because tax payments were spent in a manner that violates their religious belief." Id., at 260.

[10] See Federal Agencies Task Force, Report to Congress on American Indian Religious Freedom Act of 1978, pp. 1-8 (Aug. 1979) (history of religious persecution); Barsh, The Illusion of Religious Freedom for Indigenous Americans, 65 Ore. L. Rev. 363, 369-374 (1986).

Indeed, Oregon's attitude toward respondents' religious peyote use harkens back to the repressive federal policies pursued a century ago:

"In the government's view, traditional practices were not only morally degrading, but unhealthy. `Indians are fond of gatherings of every description,' a 1913 public health study complained, advocating the restriction of dances and `sings' to stem contagious diseases. In 1921, Commissioner of Indian Affairs Charles Burke reminded his staff to punish any Indian engaged in `any dance which involves . . . the reckless giving away of property. . . frequent or prolonged periods of celebration . . . in fact, any disorderly or plainly excessive performance that promotes superstitious cruelty, licentiousness, idleness, danger to health, and shiftless indifference to family welfare.' Two years later, he forbid Indians under the age of 50 from participating in any dances of any kind, and directed federal employees `to educate public opinion' against them." Id., at 370-371 (footnotes omitted).

1.3 Freedom of Speech and the Press 1.3 Freedom of Speech and the Press

1.3.1 Brown v. Entertainment Merchants Ass'n 1.3.1 Brown v. Entertainment Merchants Ass'n

Freedom of Speech and of the Press
In addition to religious freedom, the early colonists of America desired greater freedom of speech and of the press as well as the related right to protest against the government. They realized that freedom to criticize government and to be exposed to all manner of opinion was the greatest tonic against tyranny. This is expressed in terms of preserving a “free marketplace of ideas.” Even so, the view that the First Amendment provides absolute freedom of speech has never been accepted by a majority of the Supreme Court, despite the fact that the language of the First Amendment is absolute in its injunction that: “Congress shall make no law. . . .” Congress has made laws restricting freedom of speech, and these have been upheld by the Supreme Court.
The Sedition Act and the Espionage Act were passed during World War I. In Schenck v. United States, 249 U.S. 47 (1919), the Supreme Court found a pamphleteer guilty under the Espionage Act. His crime was sending literature to draft-age men encouraging them to resist military service. Without a doubt, this was restriction of the right of speech and press, but the Court decided that the First Amendment protection was not absolute, especially in the midst of a war. In Abrams v. United States, 250 U.S. 616 (1919), the Court also upheld a conviction against defendants whose pamphlets opposed the American government's attempts to stop the Communist government created by the Russian Revolution. In Gitlow v. New York, 268 U.S. 652 (1925), the Court allowed a conviction for the crime of distributing literature that urged labor strikes. And in Whitney v. California, 274 U.S. 357 (1927) a woman who merely attended a meeting of the Communist Party was convicted of violating a state law criminalizing the teaching or support of unlawful force and violence to bring about change.
The gravity of the First Amendment guarantees of free speech and press, as we know them now, had yet to be recognized in the early part of the 20th century. Even in the 1950s and 1960s, amidst continued fear about Communism, the Court declined to protect unpopular political speech. For example, in Dennis v. United States, 340 U.S. 887 (1950), the Supreme Court upheld the conviction of a man for participating in the formation of the Communist Party of the United States.
A more contemporary example of the threat to civil liberties is the Patriot Act, which passed with little debate after the World Trade Center attack of September 11, 2001. The statute gives the government broad powers to investigate the actions of citizens, including, for example, the kind of material
they read. To facilitate these investigations, it allows wiretaps and searches that previously would have required more extensive justification. The Act includes a “sunset” provision requiring reconsideration after some time has passed. Some sections expired in 2015 but were then renewed. Many civil libertarians feel the Patriot Act is a very dangerous tool in the hands of government. Benjamin Franklin, a signer of the Declaration of Independence, wisely reminded his contemporaries that “people willing to trade their freedom for temporary security deserve neither and will lose both.”
The Court has continued to struggle to come up with a formula for deciding which speech would be protected and which would not. Justice Hugo Black, most notably, argued for an absolutist interpretation in the middle part of the 20th century. Instead, however, the Court tried out any number of tests.
One famous version was the “clear and present danger” test proposed by Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes in the Schenck case. He gave the example of someone shouting “Fire!” in a crowded theatre, something that would likely set off panic among the patrons. “The question in every case,” Holmes said, “is whether the words used are used in such circumstances and are of such a nature as to create a clear and present danger that they will bring about the substantive evils that Congress has a right to prevent.”
Justice Louis Brandeis, concurring in Whitney, emphasized that the speech should be protected “unless the incidence of the evil apprehended is so imminent that it may befall before there is opportunity for full discussion.” In 1969, the Court embraced a different formula in Brandenburg v. Ohio, 395 U.S. 444 (1969). It announced a three part test in cases where lawless conduct might follow from speech. The speech would be protected unless (a) the speaker intended to incite lawless action; (b) it was likely to produce such imminent action; and (c) objectively it did encourage this action. The Supreme Court additionally insists that restrictions on speech be no broader than necessary to achieve the government's legitimate goal. This is often referred to as the “least restrictive means” test. Finally, the law must be neither vague nor overbroad.
The most difficult cases for the government occur when it wishes to stop speech or restrict the press before publication. This is known as “prior restraint,” and is viewed very suspiciously by the Supreme Court. In New York Times Co. v. United States, 403 U.S. 713 (1971), the government wanted to stop publication of secret government documents concerning the Vietnam War. The war was still underway, but someone (later revealed to be one of the analysts who worked on the project) leaked the documents — 7,000 pages in all — to the press. The government asked the Court to restrain publication, arguing that it would do irreparable damage to the national interest. In a per curiam opinion, the justices concluded that the Nixon Administration had failed to meet its very heavy burden of proof. Justice Black in a concurring opinion wrote as follows:
"In the First Amendment the Founding Fathers gave the free press the protection it must have to fulfill its essential role in our democracy. The press was to serve the governed, not the governors. The Government's power to censor the press was abolished so that the press would remain forever free to censure the Government. The press was protected so that it could bare the secrets of government and inform the people. Only a free and unrestrained press can effectively expose deception in government. And paramount among the responsibilities of a free press is the duty to prevent any part of the government from deceiving the people and sending them off to distant lands to die of foreign fevers and foreign shot and shell. In my view, far from deserving condemnation for their courageous reporting, the New York Times, the Washington Post, and other newspapers should be commended for serving the purpose that the Founding Fathers saw so clearly. In revealing the workings of government that led to the Vietnam war, the newspapers nobly did precisely that which the Founders hoped and trusted they would do."
Not all forms of expression are included within the guarantees of speech and press freedom. Among the forms of unprotected speech are what the Court has called “fighting words,” i.e., insulting or provocative language that incites a physical response. In Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U.S. 568 (1942), the Court upheld the conviction of a Jehovah's Witness for calling a police officer a racketeer and Fascist on a public street in violation of a state law aimed at maintaining public order. Chaplinsky had been distributing religious literature when a rowdy crowd began to form, causing the police officer to ask Chaplinsky to come to the police station. The Court found the statute to be narrowly drawn and interpreted to prohibit only those words spoken face-to-face in a manner likely to result in a disturbance of the peace.
Likewise, obscenity has also been considered outside the realm of protected speech. Such cases turn on the question of whether the material is, in fact, obscene and, if it is obscene, to whom. The Supreme Court has created tests that attempt to turn this into an objective inquiry, but — no matter what the test may be — obscenity, in the end, is in the eye of the beholder. Justice Potter Stewart became exasperated with the attempt to define obscenity but insisted “I know it when I see it.” The Court has also spoken of “contemporary community standards,” suggesting that each local community has the right to establish its own benchmarks of decency within certain parameters. That notion is less-than- helpful in a time when publications are distributed nationally and is even less enlightening in the global age of the Internet. Are the standards of the least tolerant community to control what the entire nation may see?
In the Brown case, the Court considered whether a law to protect children from violent video games was constitutional.

[564 U.S. 786]

EDMUND G. BROWN, Jr., GOVERNOR OF CALIFORNIA, et al., Petitioners v ENTERTAINMENT MERCHANTS ASSOCIATION et al.

564 U.S. 786, 131 S. Ct. 2729,

180 L. Ed. 2d 708,

2011 U.S. LEXIS 4802

[No. 08-1448]

Argued November 2, 2010.

Decided June 27, 2011.

*712APPEARANCES OF COUNSEL ARGUING CASE

Zachery P. Morazzini argued the cause for petitioners.

Paul M. Smith argued the cause for respondents.

*714Scalia, J., delivered the opinion of the Court, in which Kennedy, Ginsburg, Sotomayor, and Kagan, JJ., joined. Alito, J., filed an opinion concurring in the judgment, in which Roberts, C. J., joined. Thomas, J., and Breyer, J., filed dissenting opinions.

OPINION OF THE COURT

[564 U.S. 788]

Justice Scalia

delivered the opinion of the Court.

We consider whether a California law imposing restrictions on violent video games comports with the First Amendment.

[564 U.S. 789]

I

Assembly Bill 1179 (2005), Cal. Civ. Code Ann. §§ 1746-1746.5 (West 2009) (Act), prohibits the sale or rental of “violent video games” to minors, and requires their packaging to be labeled “18.” The Act covers games “in which the range of options available to a player includes killing, maiming, dismembering, or sexually assaulting an image of a human being, if those acts are depicted” in a manner that “[a] reasonable person, considering the game as a whole, would find appeals to a deviant or morbid interest of minors,” that is “patently offensive to prevailing standards in the community as to what is suitable for minors,” and that “causes the game, as a whole, to lack serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value for minors.” § 1746(d)(1)(A). Violation of the Act is punishable by a civil fine of up to $1,000. § 1746.3.

Respondents, representing the video-game and software industries, brought a preenforcement challenge to the Act in the United States District Court for the Northern District

[564 U.S. 790]

of California. That court concluded that the Act violated the First Amendment and permanently enjoined its enforcement. Video Software Dealers Assn. v. Schwarzenegger, No. C-05-04188 RMW (2007), App. to Pet. for Cert. 39a. The Court of Appeals affirmed, Video Software Dealers Assn. v. Schwarzenegger, 556 F.3d 950 (CA9 2009), and we granted certiorari, 559 U.S. 1092, 130 S. Ct. 2398, 176 L. Ed. 2d 784 (2010).

II

California correctly acknowledges that video games qualify for First Amendment protection. The Free Speech Clause exists principally to protect discourse on public matters, but we have long recognized that it is difficult to distinguish politics from entertainment, and dangerous to try. “Everyone is familiar with instances of propaganda through fiction. What is one man’s amusement, teaches another’s doctrine.” Winters v. New York, 333 U.S. 507, 510, 68 S. Ct. 665, 92 L. Ed. 840 (1948). Like the protected books, plays, and movies that preceded them, video games communicate ideas—and even social messages—through many familiar literary devices (such as characters, dialogue, plot, and music) and through features distinctive to the medium (such as the player’s interaction with the virtual world). That suffices to confer First Amendment protection. Under our Constitution, “esthetic and moral judgments about art and literature . . . are for the individual to make, not for the Government to decree, even with the mandate or approval of a majority.” *715 United States v. Playboy Entertainment Group, Inc., 529 U.S. 803, 818, 120 S. Ct. 1878, 146 L. Ed. 2d 865 (2000). And whatever the challenges of applying the Constitution to ever-advancing technology, “the basic principles of freedom of speech and the press, like the First Amendment’s command, do not vary” when a new and different medium for communication appears. Joseph Burstyn, Inc. v. Wilson, 343 U.S. 495, 503, 72 S. Ct. 777, 96 L. Ed. 1098 (1952).

The most basic of those principles is this: “[A]s a general matter, . . . government has no power to restrict expression

[564 U.S. 791]

because of its message, its ideas, its subject matter, or its content.” Ashcroft v. American Civil Liberties Union, 535 U.S. 564, 573, 122 S. Ct. 1700, 152 L. Ed. 2d 771 (2002) (internal quotation marks omitted). There are of course exceptions. “‘From 1791 to the present,’ . . . the First Amendment has ‘permitted restrictions upon the content of speech in a few limited areas,’ and has never ‘include [d] a freedom to disregard these traditional limitations.’ ” United States v. Stevens, 559 U.S. 460, 468, 130 S. Ct. 1577, 176 L. Ed. 2d 435 (2010) (quoting R. A. V. v. St. Paul, 505 U.S. 377, 382-383, 112 S. Ct. 2538, 120 L. Ed. 2d 305 (1992)). These limited areas—such as obscenity, Roth v. United States, 354 U.S. 476, 483, 77 S. Ct. 1304, 1 L. Ed. 2d 1498 (1957), incitement, Brandenburg v. Ohio, 395 U.S. 444, 447-449, 89 S. Ct. 1827, 23 L. Ed. 2d 430 (1969) (per curiam), and fighting words, Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U.S. 568, 572, 62 S. Ct. 766, 86 L. Ed. 1031 (1942)—represent “well-defined and narrowly limited classes of speech, the prevention and punishment of which have never been thought to raise any Constitutional problem,” id., at 571-572, 62 S. Ct. 766, 86 L. Ed. 1031.

Last Term, in Stevens, we held that new categories of unprotected speech may not be added to the list by a legislature that concludes certain speech is too harmful to be tolerated. Stevens concerned a federal statute purporting to criminalize the creation, sale, or possession of certain depictions of animal cruelty. See 18 U.S.C. § 48 (amended 2010). The statute covered depictions “in which a living animal is intentionally maimed, mutilated, tortured, wounded, or killed” if that harm to the animal was illegal where “the creation, sale, or possession t[ook] place,” § 48(c)(1). A saving clause largely borrowed from our obscenity jurisprudence, see Miller v. California, 413 U.S. 15, 24, 93 S. Ct. 2607, 37 L. Ed. 2d 419 (1973), exempted depictions with “serious religious, political, scientific, educational, journalistic, historical, or artistic value,” § 48(b). We held that statute to be an impermissible content-based restriction on speech. There was no American tradition of forbidding the depiction of animal cruelty—though States have long had laws against committing it.

[564 U.S. 792]

The Government argued in Stevens that lack of a historical warrant did not matter; that it could create new categories of unprotected speech by applying a “simple balancing test” that weighs the value of a particular category of speech against its social costs and then punishes that category of speech if it fails the test. Stevens, 559 U.S., at 470, 130 S. Ct. 1577, 176 L. Ed. 2d 435. We emphatically rejected that “startling and dangerous” proposition. Ibid.. “Maybe there are some categories of speech that have been historically unpro*716tected, but have not yet been specifically identified or discussed as such in our case law.” Id., at 472, 130 S. Ct. 1577, 176 L. Ed. 2d 435. But without persuasive evidence that a novel restriction on content is part of a long (if heretofore unrecognized) tradition of proscription, a legislature may not revise the “judgment [of] the American people,” embodied in the First Amendment, “that the benefits of its restrictions on the Government outweigh the costs.”Id., at 470, 130 S. Ct. 1577, 176 L. Ed. 2d 435.

That holding controls this case.1 As in Stevens, California has tried to make violent-speech regulation look like obscenity regulation by appending a saving clause required for the latter. That does not suffice. Our cases have been clear that the obscenity exception to the First Amendment does

[564 U.S. 793]

not cover whatever a legislature finds shocking, but only depictions of “sexual conduct,” Miller, supra, at 24, 93 S. Ct. 2607, 37 L. Ed. 2d 419. See also Cohen v. California, 403 U.S. 15, 20, 91 S. Ct. 1780, 29 L. Ed. 2d 284 (1971); Roth, supra, at 487, and n. 20, 77 S. Ct. 1304, 1 L. Ed. 2d 1498.

Stevens was not the first time we have encountered and rejected a State’s attempt to shoehorn speech about violence into obscenity. In Winters, we considered a New York criminal statute “forbid [ding] the massing of stories of bloodshed and lust in such a way as to incite to crime against the person,” 333 U.S., at 514, 68 S. Ct. 665, 92 L. Ed. 840. The New York Court of Appeals upheld the provision as a law against obscenity. “[T]here can be no more precise test of written indecency or obscenity,” it said, “than the continuing and changeable experience of the community as to what types of books are likely to bring about the corruption of public morals or other analogous injury to the public order.” Ibid, (internal quotation marks omitted). That is of course the same expansive view of governmental power to abridge the freedom of speech based on interest balancing that we rejected in Stevens. Our opinion in Winters, which concluded that the New York statute failed a heightened vagueness standard applicable to restrictions upon speech entitled to First Amendment protection, 333 U.S., at 517-519, 68 S. Ct. 665, 92 L. Ed. 840, made clear that violence is not part of the obscenity that the Constitution permits to be regulated. The speech reached by the statute contained “no indecency or obscenity in any sense heretofore known to the law.” Id., at 519, 68 S. Ct. 665, 92 L. Ed. 840.

Because speech about violence is *717not obscene, it is of no consequence that California’s statute mimics the New York statute regulating obscenity for minors that we upheld in Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U.S. 629, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195 (1968). That case approved a prohibition on the sale to minors of sexual material that would be obscene from the perspective of a child.2 We

[564 U.S. 794]

held that the legislature could “adjus[t] the definition of obscenity ‘to social realities by permitting the appeal of this type of material to be assessed in terms of the sexual interests .. .’of... minors.” Id., at 638, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195 (quoting Mishkin v. New York, 383 U.S. 502, 509, 86 S. Ct. 958, 16 L. Ed. 2d 56 (1966)). And because “obscenity is not protected expression,” the New York statute could be sustained so long as the legislature’s judgment that the proscribed materials were harmful to children “was not irrational.” 390 U.S., at 641, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195.

The California Act is something else entirely. It does not adjust the boundaries of an existing category of unprotected speech to ensure that a definition designed for adults is not uncritically applied to children. California does not argue that it is empowered to prohibit selling offensively violent works to adults—and it is wise not to, since that is but a hair’s breadth from the argument rejected in Stevens. Instead, it wishes to create a wholly new category of content-based regulation that is permissible only for speech directed at children.

That is unprecedented and mistaken. “[M]inors are entitled to a significant measure of First Amendment protection, and only in relatively narrow and well-defined circumstances may government bar public dissemination of protected materials to them.” Erznoznik v. Jacksonville, 422 U.S. 205, 212-213, 95 S. Ct. 2268, 45 L. Ed. 2d 125 (1975) (citation omitted). No doubt a State possesses legitimate power to protect children from harm, Ginsberg, supra, at 640-641, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195; Prince v. Massachusetts, 321 U.S. 158, 165, 64 S. Ct. 438, 88 L. Ed. 645 (1944), but that does not include a free-floating power to restrict the ideas to which children may be exposed.

[564 U.S. 795]

“Speech that is neither obscene as to youths nor subject to some other legitimate proscription cannot be suppressed solely to protect the young from ideas or images that a legislative body thinks unsuitable for them.” Erznoznik, supra, at 213-214, 95 S. Ct. 2268, 45 L. Ed. 2d 125.3

*718California’s argument would fare better if there were a longstanding tradition in this country of specially restricting children’s access to depictions of violence, but there is none. Certainly the books we give children to read—or read to

[564 U.S. 796]

them when they are younger—contain no shortage of gore. Grimm’s Fairy Tales, for example, are grim indeed. As her just deserts for trying to poison Snow White, the wicked queen is made to dance in red hot slippers “till she fell dead on the floor, a sad example of envy and jealousy.” The Complete Brothers Grimm Fairy Tales 198 (2006 ed.). Cinderella’s evil stepsisters have their eyes pecked out by doves. Id., at 95. And Hansel and Gretel (children!) kill their captor by baking her in an oven. Id., at 54.

High-school reading lists are full of similar fare. Homer’s Odysseus blinds Polyphemus the Cyclops by grinding out his eye with a heated stake. 22 The Odyssey of Homer, Book IX, p. 125 (S. Butcher & A. Lang transís. 1909) (“Even so did we seize the fiery-pointed brand and whirled it round in his eye, and the blood flowed about the heated bar. And the breath of the flame singed his eyelids and brows all about, as the ball of the eye burnt away, and the roots thereof crackled in the flame”). In the Inferno, Dante and Virgil watch corrupt politicians struggle to stay submerged beneath a lake of boiling pitch, lest they be skewered by devils above the surface. Canto XXI, pp. 187-189 (A. Mandelbaum transí. Bantam Classic ed. 1982). And Golding’s Lord of the Flies recounts how a schoolboy called Piggy is savagely murdered by other children while marooned on an island. W. Golding, Lord of the Flies 208-209 (1997 ed.).4

[564 U.S. 797]

*719This is not to say that minors’ consumption of violent entertainment has never encountered resistance. In the 1800’s, dime novels depicting crime and “penny dreadfuls” (named for their price and content) were blamed in some quarters for juvenile delinquency. See Brief for Cato Institute as Amicus Curiae 6-7. When motion pictures came along, they became the villains instead. “The days when the police looked upon dime novels as the most dangerous of textbooks in the school for crime are drawing to a close. . . . They say that the moving picture machine . . . tends even more than did the dime novel to turn the thoughts of the easily influenced to paths which sometimes lead to prison.” Moving Pictures as Helps to Crime, N. Y. Times, Feb. 21, 1909, quoted in Brief for Cato Institute 8. For a time, our Court did permit broad censorship of movies because of their capacity to be “used for evil,” see Mutual Film Corp. v. Industrial Comm’n of Ohio, 236 U.S. 230, 242, 35 S. Ct. 387, 59 L. Ed. 552 (1915), but we eventually reversed course, Joseph Burstyn, Inc., 343 U.S., at 502, 72 S. Ct. 777, 96 L. Ed. 1098; see also Erznoznik, supra, at 212-214, 95 S. Ct. 2268, 45 L. Ed. 2d 125 (invalidating a drive-in movies restriction designed to protect children). Radio dramas were next, and then came comic books. Brief for Cato Institute 10-11. Many in the late 1940’s and early 1950’s blamed comic books for fostering a “preoccupation with violence and horror” among the young, leading to a rising juvenile crime rate. See Note, Regulation of Comic Books, 68 Harv. L. Rev. 489, 490 (1955). But efforts to convince Congress to restrict comic books failed. Brief for Comic Book Legal Defense Fund as Amicus Curiae 11-15.5

[564 U.S. 798]

And, of course, after comic books came television and music lyrics.

California claims that video games present special problems because they are “interactive,” in that the player participates in the violent action on screen and determines its outcome. The latter feature is nothing new: Since at least the publication of The Adventures of You: Sugarcane Island in 1969, young readers of choose-your-own-adventure stories have been able to make decisions that determine the plot by following instructions about which page to turn to. Cf. Interactive Digital Software Assn. v. St. Louis County, 329 F.3d 954, 957-958 (CA8 2003). As for the argument that video games enable participation in the violent action, that seems to us more a matter of degree than of kind. As Judge Posner has observed, all literature is interactive. “[T]he better it is, the more interactive. Literature when it is successful draws the reader into the story, makes him identify with the characters, invites him to judge them and quarrel with them, to experience their joys and sufferings as the reader’s own.” American Amusement Machine Assn. v. Kendrick, 244 F.3d 572, *720577 (CA7 2001) (striking down a similar restriction on violent video games).

Justice Alito has done considerable independent research to identify, see post, at 818-819, nn. 13-18, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 732, video games in which “the violence is astounding,” post, at 818, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 732. “Victims are dismembered, decapitated, disemboweled, set on fire, and chopped into little pieces. . . . Blood gushes, splatters, and pools.” Ibid. Justice Alito recounts all these disgusting video games in order to disgust us—but disgust is not a valid basis for restricting expression. And the same is true of Justice Alito’s description, post, at 819, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 732, of those

[564 U.S. 799]

video games he has discovered that have a racial or ethnic motive for their violence—“ ‘ethnic cleansing’ [of] . . . African-Americans, Latinos, or Jews.” To what end does he relate this? Does it somehow increase the “aggressiveness” that California wishes to suppress? Who knows? But it does arouse the reader’s ire, and the reader’s desire to put an end to this horrible message. Thus, ironically, Justice Alito’s argument highlights the precise danger posed by the California Act: that the ideas expressed by speech—whether it be violence, or gore, or racism—and not its objective effects, may be the real reason for governmental proscription.

Ill

Because the Act imposes a restriction on the content of protected speech, it is invalid unless California can demonstrate that it passes strict scrutiny—that is, unless it is justified by a compelling government interest and is narrowly drawn to serve that interest. R. A. V., 505 U.S., at 395, 112 S. Ct. 2538, 120 L. Ed. 2d 305. The State must specifically identify an “actual problem” in need of solving, Playboy, 529 U.S., at 822-823, 120 S. Ct. 1878, 146 L. Ed. 2d 86, and the curtailment of free speech must be actually necessary to the solution, see R. A. V., supra, at 395, 112 S. Ct. 2538, 120 L. Ed. 2d 305. That is a demanding standard. “It is rare that a regulation restricting speech because of its content will ever be permissible.” Playboy, supra, at 818, 120 S. Ct. 1878, 146 L. Ed. 2d 86.

California cannot meet that standard. At the outset, it acknowledges that it cannot show a direct causal link between violent video games and harm to minors. Rather, relying upon our decision in Turner Broadcasting System, Inc. v. FCC, 512 U.S. 622, 114 S. Ct. 2445, 129 L. Ed. 2d 497 (1994), the State claims that it need not produce such proof because the legislature can make a predictive judgment that such a link exists, based on competing psychological studies. But reliance on Turner Broadcasting is misplaced. That decision applied intermediate scrutiny to a content-neutral regulation. Id., at 661-662, 114 S. Ct. 2445, 129 L. Ed. 2d 497. California’s burden is much higher, and because it bears the

[564 U.S. 800]

risk of uncertainty, see Playboy, supra, at 816-817, 120 S. Ct. 1878, 146 L. Ed. 2d 86, ambiguous proof will not suffice.

The State’s evidence is not compelling. California relies primarily on the research of Dr. Craig Anderson and a few other research psychologists whose studies purport to show a connection between exposure to violent video games and harmful effects on children. These studies have been rejected by every court to consider *721them,6 and with good reason: They do not prove that violent video games cause minors to act aggressively (which would at least be a beginning). Instead, “[n] early all of the research is based on correlation, not evidence of causation, and most of the studies suffer from significant, admitted flaws in methodology.” 556 F.3d, at 964. They show at best some correlation between exposure to violent entertainment and minuscule real-world effects, such as children’s feeling more aggressive or making louder noises in the few minutes after playing a violent game than after playing a nonviolent game.7

Even taking for granted Dr. Anderson’s conclusions that violent video games produce some effect on children’s feelings of aggression, those effects are both small and indistinguishable

[564 U.S. 801]

from effects produced by other media. In his testimony in a similar lawsuit, Dr. Anderson admitted that the “effect sizes” of children’s exposure to violent video games are “about the same” as that produced by their exposure to violence on television. App. 1263. And he admits that the same effects have been found when children watch cartoons starring Bugs Bunny or the Road Runner, id., at 1304, or when they play video games like Sonic the Hedgehog that are rated “E” (appropriate for all ages), id., at 1270, or even when they “vie[w] a picture of a gun,” id., at 1315-1316.8

Of course, California has (wisely) declined to restrict Saturday morning *722cartoons, the sale of games rated for young

[564 U.S. 802]

children, or the distribution of pictures of guns. The consequence is that its regulation is wildly underinclusive when judged against its asserted justification, which in our view is alone enough to defeat it. Underinclusiveness raises serious doubts about whether the government is in fact pursuing the interest it invokes, rather than disfavoring a particular speaker or viewpoint. See City of Ladue v. Gilleo, 512 U.S. 43, 51, 114 S. Ct. 2038, 129 L. Ed. 2d 36 (1994); Florida Star v. B. J. F., 491 U.S. 524, 540, 109 S. Ct. 2603, 105 L. Ed. 2d 443 (1989). Here, California has singled out the purveyors of video games for disfavored treatment—at least when compared to booksellers, cartoonists, and movie producers—and has given no persuasive reason why.

The Act is also seriously underin-clusive in another respect—and a respect that renders irrelevant the contentions of the concurrence and the dissents that video games are qualitatively different from other portrayals of violence. The California Legislature is perfectly willing to leave this dangerous, mind-altering material in the hands of children so long as one parent (or even an aunt or uncle) says it’s OK. And there are not even any requirements as to how this parental or avuncular relationship is to be verified; apparently the child’s or putative parent’s, aunt’s, or uncle’s say-so suffices. That is not how one addresses a serious social problem.

California claims that the Act is justified in aid of parental authority: By requiring that the purchase of violent video games can be made only by adults, the Act ensures that parents can decide what games are appropriate. At the outset, we note our doubts that punishing third parties for conveying protected speech to children just in case their parents disapprove of that speech is a proper governmental means of aiding parental authority. Accepting that position would largely vitiate the rule that “only in relatively narrow and well-defined circumstances may government bar public dissemination of protected materials to [minors].” Erznoznik, 422 U.S., at 212-213, 95 S. Ct. 2268, 45 L. Ed. 2d 125.

[564 U.S. 803]

But leaving that aside, California cannot show that the Act’s restrictions meet a substantial need of parents who wish to restrict their children’s access to violent video games but cannot do so. The video-game industry has in place a voluntary rating system designed to inform consumers about the content of games. The system, implemented by the Entertainment Software Rating Board (ESRB), assigns age-specific ratings to each video game submitted: EC (Early Childhood); E (Everyone); E10+ (Everyone 10 and older); T (Teens); M (17 and older); and AO (Adults Only—18 and older). App. 86. The Video Software Dealers Association encourages retailers to prominently display information about the ESRB system in their stores; to refrain from renting or selling adults-only games to minors; and to rent or sell “M” rated games to minors only with parental consent. Id., at 47. In 2009, the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) found that, as a result of this system, “the video game industry outpaces the movie and music industries” in “(1) restricting target-marketing of mature-rated *723products to children; (2) clearly and prominently disclosing rating information; and (3) restricting children’s access to mature-rated products at retail.” FTC, Report to Congress, Marketing Violent Entertainment to Children 30 (Dec. 2009), online at http://www.ftc.gov/os/ 2009/12/ P9945llviolententertainment.pdf (as visited June 24,2011, and available in Clerk of Court’s case file) (FTC Report). This system does much to ensure that minors cannot purchase seriously violent games on their own, and that parents who care about the matter can readily evaluate the games their children bring home. Filling the remaining modest gap in concerned parents’ control can hardly be a compelling state interest.9

[564 U.S. 804]

And finally, the Act’s purported aid to parental authority is vastly overinclusive. Not all of the children who are forbidden to purchase violent video games on their own have parents who care whether they purchase violent video games. While some of the legislation’s effect may indeed be in support of what some parents of the restricted children actually want, its entire effect is only in support of what the State thinks parents ought to want. This is not the narrow tailoring to “assisting parents” that restriction of First Amendment rights requires.

California’s effort to regulate violent video games is the latest episode in a long series of failed attempts to censor violent entertainment for minors. While we have pointed out above that some of the evidence brought forward to support the harmfulness of video games is unpersuasive, we do not mean to demean or disparage the concerns that underlie the attempt to regulate them—concerns that may and doubtless do prompt a good deal of parental oversight. We have no business passing judgment on the view of the California Legislature that violent video games (or, for that matter, any other forms of speech) corrupt the young or harm their moral development. Our task is only to say whether or not such works constitute a “well-defined and narrowly limited clas[s] of speech, the prevention and punishment of which have never been thought to raise any Constitutional problem,” Chaplinsky, 315 U.S., at 571-572, 62 S. Ct. 766, 86 L. Ed. 1031, 62 S. Ct. 766, 86 L. Ed. 1031 (the answer plainly is no); and if not, whether the regulation of such works is justified by that high degree of necessity we have described as a compelling state interest (it is not). Even where the protection

[564 U.S. 805]

of children is the object, the constitutional limits on governmental action apply.

California’s legislation straddles the fence between (1) addressing a serious social problem and (2) helping concerned parents control their children. Both ends are legitimate, but when they affect First Amendment rights they must be pursued by means that are neither seri*724ously underinclusive nor seriously overinclusive. See Church of Lukumi Babalu Aye, Inc. v. Hialeah, 508 U.S. 520, 546, 113 S. Ct. 2217, 124 L. Ed. 2d 472 (1993). As a means of protecting children from portrayals of violence, the legislation is seriously underinclusive, not only because it excludes portrayals other than video games, but also because it permits a parental or avuncular veto. And as a means of assisting concerned parents it is seriously overinclusive because it abridges the First Amendment rights of young people whose parents (and aunts and uncles) think violent video games are a harmless pastime. And the overbreadth in achieving one goal is not cured by the underbreadth in achieving the other. Legislation such as this, which is neither fish nor fowl, cannot survive strict scrutiny.

We affirm the judgment below.

It is so ordered.

SEPARATE OPINIONS

Justice Alito,

with whom The Chief Justice joins, concurring in the judgment.

The California statute that is before us in this case represents a pioneering effort to address what the state legislature and others regard as a potentially serious social problem: the effect of exceptionally violent video games on impressionable minors, who often spend countless hours immersed in the alternative worlds that these games create. Although the California statute is well intentioned, its terms are not framed with the precision that the Constitution demands, and I therefore agree with the Court that this particular law cannot be sustained.

[564 U.S. 806]

I disagree, however, with the approach taken in the Court’s opinion. In considering the application of unchanging constitutional principles to new and rapidly evolving technology, this Court should proceed with caution. We should make every effort to understand the new technology. We should take into account the possibility that developing technology may have important societal implications that will become apparent only with time. We should not jump to the conclusion that new technology is fundamentally the same as some older thing with which we are familiar. And we should not hastily dismiss the judgment of legislators, who may be in a better position than we are to assess the implications of new technology. The opinion of the Court exhibits none of this caution.

In the view of the Court, all those concerned about the effects of violent video games—federal and state legislators, educators, social scientists, and parents—are unduly fearful, for violent video games really present no serious problem. See ante, at 798-801, 803-804, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 719-721, 722-723. Spending hour upon hour controlling the actions of a character who guns down scores of innocent victims is not different in “kind” from reading a description of violence in a work of literature. See ante, at 798, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 719-720.

The Court is sure of this; I am not. There are reasons to suspect that the experience of playing violent video games just might be very different from reading a book, listening to the radio, or watching a movie or a television show.

*725I

Respondents in this case, representing the video-game industry, ask us to strike down the California law on two grounds: the broad ground adopted by the Court and the narrower ground that the law’s definition of “violent video game,” see Cal. Civ. Code Ann. § 1746(d)(1)(A) (West 2009), is impermissibly vague. See Brief for Respondents 23-61. Because I agree with the latter argument, I see no need to

[564 U.S. 807]

reach the broader First Amendment issues addressed by the Court.1

A

Due process requires that laws give people of ordinary intelligence fair notice of what is prohibited. Grayned v. City of Rockford, 408 U.S. 104, 108, 92 S. Ct. 2294, 33 L. Ed. 2d 222 (1972). The lack of such notice in a law that regulates expression “raises special First Amendment concerns because of its obvious chilling effect on free speech.” Reno v. American Civil Liberties Union, 521 U.S. 844, 871-872, 117 S. Ct. 2329, 138 L. Ed. 2d 874 (1997). Vague laws force potential speakers to “ ‘steer far wider of the unlawful zone’ . . . than if the boundaries of the forbidden areas were clearly marked.” Baggett v. Bullitt, 377 U.S. 360, 372, 84 S. Ct. 1316, 12 L. Ed. 2d 377 (1964) (quoting Speiser v. Randall, 357 U.S. 513, 526, 78 S. Ct. 1332, 2 L. Ed. 2d 1460 (1958)). While “perfect clarity and precise guidance have never been required even of regulations that restrict expressive activity,” Ward v. Rock Against Racism, 491 U.S. 781, 794, 109 S. Ct. 2746, 105 L. Ed. 2d 661 (1989), “government may regulate in the area” of First Amendment freedoms “only with narrow specificity,” NAACP v. Button, 371 U.S. 415, 433, 83 S. Ct. 328, 9 L. Ed. 2d 405 (1963); see also Hoffman Estates v. Flipside, Hoffman Estates, Inc., 455 U.S. 489, 499, 102 S. Ct. 1186, 71 L. Ed. 2d 362 (1982). These principles apply to laws that regulate expression for the purpose of protecting children. See Interstate Circuit, Inc. v. Dallas, 390 U.S. 676, 689, 88 S. Ct. 1298, 20 L. Ed. 2d 225 (1968).

Here, the California law does not define “violent video games” with the “narrow specificity” that the Constitution demands. In an effort to avoid First Amendment problems, the California Legislature modeled its violent video game statute on the New York law that this Court upheld in Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U.S. 629, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195 (1968)—a law that prohibited the sale of certain sexually related materials to minors, see id., at 631-633, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195. But the California Legislature departed

[564 U.S. 808]

from the Ginsberg model in an important respect, and the legislature overlooked important differences between the materials falling within the scope of the two statutes.

B

The law at issue in Ginsberg prohibited the sale to minors of materials that were deemed “harmful to minors,” and the law defined “harmful to minors” simply by adding the words “for minors” to each element of the definition of obscenity set out in what were then the Court’s leading obscenity decisions, see Roth v. United States, 354 U.S. 476, 77 S. Ct. 1304, 1 *726L. Ed. 2d 1498 (1957), and Book Named “John Cleland’s Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure” v. Attorney General of Mass., 383 U.S. 413, 86 S. Ct. 975, 16 L. Ed. 2d 1 (1966).

Seeking to bring its violent video game law within the protection of Ginsberg, the California Legislature began with the obscenity test adopted in Miller v. California, 413 U.S. 15, 93 S. Ct. 2607, 37 L. Ed. 2d 419 (1973), a decision that revised the obscenity tests previously set out in Roth and Memoirs. The legislature then made certain modifications to accommodate the aim of the violent video game law.

Under Miller, an obscenity statute must contain a threshold limitation that restricts the statute’s scope to specifically described “hard core” materials. See 413 U.S., at 23-25, 27, 93 S. Ct. 2607, 37 L. Ed. 2d 419. Materials that fall within this “hard core” category may be deemed to be obscene if three additional requirements are met:

(1) An “average person, applying contemporary community standards [must] find . . . the work, taken as a whole, appeals to the prurient interest”;
(2) “the work [must] depic[t] or describe], in a patently offensive way, sexual conduct specifically defined by the applicable state law; and”
(3) “the work, taken as a whole, [must] lac[k] serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value.” Id., at 24, 93 S. Ct. 2607, 37 L. Ed. 2d 419 (internal quotation marks omitted).

[564 U.S. 809]

Adapting these standards, the California law imposes the following threshold limitation: “[T]he range of options available to a player [must] includ[e] killing, maiming, dismembering, or sexually assaulting an image of a human being.” § 1746(d)(1). Any video game that meets this threshold test is subject to the law’s restrictions if it also satisfies three further requirements:

“(i) A reasonable person, considering the game as a whole, would find [the game] appeals to a deviant or morbid interest of minors.
“(ii) It is patently offensive to prevailing standards in the community as to what is suitable for minors.
“(iii) It causes the game, as a whole, to lack serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value for minors.” § 1746(d)(1)(A).2

C

The first important difference between the Ginsberg law and the California violent video game statute concerns their respective threshold requirements. As noted, the Ginsberg law built upon the test for adult obscenity, and the current adult obscenity test, which was set out in Miller, requires an obscenity statute to contain a threshold limitation that restricts the statute’s coverage to spec-*727cifically defined “hard core” depictions. See 413 U.S., at 23-25, 27, 93 S. Ct. 2607, 37 L. Ed. 2d 419. The Miller Court gave as an example a statute that applies to only “[p]atently offensive representations or descriptions of ultimate sexual acts,” “masturbation, excretory functions, and

[564 U.S. 810]

lewd exhibition of the genitals.” Id., at 25, 93 S. Ct. 2607, 37 L. Ed. 2d 419. The Miller Court clearly viewed this threshold limitation as serving a vital notice function. “We are satisfied,” the Court wrote, “that these specific prerequisites will provide fair notice to a dealer in such materials that his public and commercial activities may bring prosecution.” Id., at 27, 93 S. Ct. 2607, 37 L. Ed. 2d 419; see also Reno, 521 U.S., at 873, 117 S. Ct. 2329, 138 L. Ed. 2d 874 (observing that Miller’s threshold limitation “reduces the vagueness inherent in the open-ended term ‘patently offensive’ ”).3

By contrast, the threshold requirement of the California law does not perform the narrowing function served by the limitation in Miller. At least when Miller was decided, depictions of “hard core” sexual conduct were not a common feature of mainstream entertainment. But nothing similar can be said about much of the conduct covered by the California law. It provides that a video game cannot qualify as “violent” unless “the range of options available to a player includes killing, maiming, dismembering, or sexually assaulting an image of a human being.” § 1746(d)(1).

For better or worse, our society has long regarded many depictions of killing and maiming4 as suitable features of popular entertainment, including entertainment that is widely available to minors. The California law’s threshold requirement would more closely resemble the limitation in Miller if it targeted a narrower class of graphic depictions.

Because of this feature of the California law’s threshold test, the work of providing fair notice is left in large part to

[564 U.S. 811]

the three requirements that follow, but those elements are also not up to the task. In drafting the violent video game law, the California Legislature could have made its own judgment regarding the kind and degree of violence that is acceptable in games played by minors (or by minors in particular age groups). Instead, the legislature relied on undefined societal or community standards.

One of the three elements at issue here refers expressly to “prevailing standards in the community as to what is suitable for minors.” § 1746(d)(1)(A)(ii). Another element points in the same direction, asking whether “[a] reasonable person, considering [a] game as a whole,” would find that it “appeals to a deviant or morbid, interest of minors.” § 1746(d)(1)(A)(i) (emphasis added).

The terms “deviant” and “morbid” are not defined in the statute, and *728California offers no reason to think that its courts would give the terms anything other than their ordinary meaning. See Reply Brief for Petitioners 5 (arguing that “[a] reasonable person can make this judgment through ... a common understanding and definition of the applicable terms”). I therefore assume that “deviant” and “morbid” carry the meaning that they convey in ordinary speech. The adjective “deviant” ordinarily means “deviating . . . from some accepted norm,” and the term “morbid” means “of, relating to, or characteristic of disease.” Webster’s 618, 1469. A “deviant or morbid interest” in violence, therefore, appears to be an interest that deviates from what is regarded—presumably in accordance with some generally accepted standard—as normal and healthy. Thus, the application of the California law is heavily dependent on the identification of generally accepted standards regarding the suitability of violent entertainment for minors.

The California Legislature seems to have assumed that these standards are sufficiently well known so that a person of ordinary intelligence would have fair notice as to whether the kind and degree of violence in a particular game is

[564 U.S. 812]

enough to qualify the game as “violent.” And because the Miller test looks to community standards, the legislature may have thought that the use of undefined community standards in the violent video game law would not present vagueness problems.

There is a critical difference, however, between obscenity laws and laws regulating violence in entertainment. By the time of this Court’s landmark obscenity cases in the 1960’s, obscenity had long been prohibited, see Roth, 354 U.S., at 484-485, 77 S. Ct. 1304, 1 L. Ed. 2d 1498, and this experience had helped to shape certain generally accepted norms concerning expression related to sex.

There is no similar history regarding expression related to violence. As the Court notes, classic literature contains descriptions of great violence, and even children’s stories sometimes depict very violent scenes. See ante, at 795-797, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 718-719.

Although our society does not generally regard all depictions of violence as suitable for children or adolescents, the prevalence of violent depictions in children’s literature and entertainment creates numerous opportunities for reasonable people to disagree about which depictions may excite “deviant” or “morbid” impulses. See Edwards & Berman, Regulating Violence on Television, 89 Nw. U. L. Rev. 1487, 1523 (1995) (observing that the Miller test would be difficult to apply to violent expression because “there is nothing even approaching a consensus on low-value violence”).

Finally, the difficulty of ascertaining the community standards incorporated into the California law is compounded by the legislature’s decision to lump all minors together. The California law draws no distinction between young children and adolescents who are nearing the age of majority.

In response to a question at oral argument, the attorney defending the constitutionality of the California law said that the State would accept a narrowing construction of the law under which the law’s references to “minors” would be interpreted to refer to the oldest minors—that is, those just short

[564 U.S. 813]

of 18. Tr. of Oral Arg. 11-12. However, “it is not within our power *729to construe and narrow state laws.” Grayned, 408 U.S., at 110, 92 S. Ct. 2294, 33 L. Ed. 2d 222. We can only “ ‘extrapolate [their] allowable meaning’ ” from the statutory text and authoritative interpretations of similar laws by courts of the State. Ibid. (quoting Garner v. Louisiana, 368 U.S. 157, 174, 82 S. Ct. 248, 7 L. Ed. 2d 207 (1961) (Frankfurter, J., concurring in judgment)).

In this case, California has not provided any evidence that the California Legislature intended the law to be limited in this way, or cited any decisions from its courts that would support an “oldest minors” construction.5

For these reasons, I conclude that the California violent video game law fails to provide the fair notice that the Constitution requires. And I would go no further. I would not express any view on whether a properly drawn statute would or would not survive First Amendment scrutiny. We should address that question only if and when it is necessary to do so.

II

Having outlined how I would decide this case, I will now briefly elaborate on my reasons for questioning the wisdom of the Court’s approach. Some of these reasons are touched upon by the dissents, and while I am not prepared at this time to go as far as either Justice Thomas or Justice Breyer, they raise valid concerns.

A

The Court is wrong in saying that the holding in United States v. Stevens, 559 U.S. 460, 130 S. Ct. 1577, 176 L. Ed. 2d 435 (2010), “controls this case.” Ante, at 792, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 716. First, the statute in Stevens differed sharply

[564 U.S. 814]

from the statute at issue here. Stevens struck down a law that broadly prohibited any person from creating, selling, or possessing depictions of animal cruelty for commercial gain. The California law involved here, by contrast, is limited to the sale or rental of violent video games to minors. The California law imposes no restriction on the creation of violent video games, or on the possession of such games by anyone, whether above or below the age of 18. The California law does not regulate the sale or rental of violent games by adults. And the California law does not prevent parents and certain other close relatives from buying or renting violent games for their children or other young relatives if they see fit.

Second, Stevens does not support the proposition that a law like the one at issue must satisfy strict scrutiny. The portion of Stevens on which the Court relies rejected the Government’s contention that depictions of animal cruelty were categorically outside the range of any First Amendment protection. 559 U.S., at 471-472, 130 S. Ct. 1577, 176 L. Ed. 2d 435. Going well beyond Stevens, the Court now holds that any law that attempts to prevent minors from purchasing violent video games must satisfy strict scrutiny instead of the more lenient standard applied in Ginsberg, 390 U.S. 629, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195, our most closely related precedent. As a result of today’s decision, *730a State may prohibit the sale to minors of what Ginsberg described as “girlie magazines,” but a State must surmount a formidable (and perhaps insurmountable) obstacle if it wishes to prevent children from purchasing the most violent and depraved video games imaginable.

Third, Stevens expressly left open the possibility that a more narrowly drawn statute targeting depictions of animal cruelty might be compatible with the First Amendment. See 559 U.S., at 482, 130 S. Ct. 1577, 176 L. Ed. 2d 435. In this case, the Court’s sweeping opinion will likely be read by many, both inside and outside the video-game industry, as suggesting that no regulation of minors’ access to violent video games is allowed—at least

[564 U.S. 815]

without supporting evidence that may not be realistically obtainable given the nature of the phenomenon in question.

B

The Court’s opinion distorts the effect of the California law. I certainly agree with the Court that the government has no “free-floating power to restrict the ideas to which children may be exposed,” ante, at 794-795, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 717, but the California law does not exercise such a power. If parents want their child to have a violent video game, the California law does not interfere with that parental prerogative. Instead, the California law reinforces parental de-cisionmaking in exactly the same way as the New York statute upheld in Ginsberg. Under both laws, minors are prevented from purchasing certain materials; and under both laws, parents are free to supply their children with these items if that is their wish.

Citing the video-game industry’s voluntary rating system, the Court argues that the California law does not “meet a substantial need of parents who wish to restrict their children’s access to violent video games but cannot do so.” Ante, at 803, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 722. The Court does not mention the fact that the industry adopted this system in response to the threat of federal regulation, Brief for Activision Blizzard, Inc., as Amicus Curiae 7-10, a threat that the Court’s opinion may now be seen as largely eliminating. Nor does the Court acknowledge that compliance with this system at the time of the enactment of the California law left much to be desired6—or that future enforcement may decline if the video-game

[564 U.S. 816]

industry perceives that any threat of government regulation has vanished. Nor does the Court note, as Justice Breyer points out, see post, at 849-850, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 751 (dissenting opinion), that many parents today are simply not able to monitor their children’s use of computers and gaming devices.

C

Finally, the Court is far too quick to dismiss the possibility that the experience of playing video games (and the effects on minors of playing violent video games) may be very different from anything that we have seen before. Any assessment of the experi*731ence of playing video games must take into account certain characteristics of the video games that are now on the market and those that are likely to be available in the near future.

Today’s most advanced video games create realistic alternative worlds in which millions of players immerse themselves for hours on end. These games feature visual imagery and sounds that are strikingly realistic, and in the near future video-game graphics may be virtually indistinguishable from actual video footage.7 Many of the games already on the market can produce high definition images,8 and it is predicted that it will not be long before video-game images will be seen in three dimensions.9 It is also forecast that

[564 U.S. 817]

video games will soon provide sensory feedback.10 By wearing a special vest or other device, a player will be able to experience physical sensations supposedly felt by a character on the screen.11 Some amici who support respondents foresee the day when “ ‘virtual-reality shoot-‘em-ups’ ” will allow children to “ ‘actually feel the splatting blood from the blown-off head’ ” of a victim. Brief for Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press et al. as Amici Curiae 29 (quoting H. Schechter, Savage Pastimes 18 (2005)).

Persons who play video games also have an unprecedented ability to participate in the events that take place in the virtual worlds that these games create. Players can create their own video-game characters and can use photos to produce characters that closely resemble actual people. A person playing a sophisticated game can make a multitude of choices and can thereby alter the course of the action in the game. In addition, the means by which players control the action in video games now bear a closer relationship to the means by which people control action in the real world. While the action in older games was often directed with buttons or a joystick, players dictate the action in newer games by engaging in the same motions that they desire a character

[564 U.S. 818]

in *732the game to perform.12 For example, a player who wants a video-game character to swing a baseball bat—either to hit a ball or smash a skull—could bring that about by simulating the motion of actually swinging a bat.

These present-day and emerging characteristics of video games must be considered together with characteristics of the violent games that have already been marketed.

In some of these games, the violence is astounding.13 Victims by the dozens are killed with every imaginable implement, including ma-chineguns, shotguns, clubs, hammers, axes, swords, and chainsaws. Victims are dismembered, decapitated, disemboweled, set on fire, and chopped into little pieces. They cry out in agony and beg for mercy. Blood gushes, splatters, and pools. Severed body parts and gobs of human remains are graphically shown. In some games, points are awarded based, not only on the number of victims killed, but on the killing technique employed.

It also appears that there is no antisocial theme too base for some in the video-game industry to exploit. There are games in which a player can take on the identity and reenact the killings carried out by the perpetrators of the murders at Columbine High School and Virginia Tech.14 The objective

[564 U.S. 819]

of one game is to rape a mother and her daughters;15 in another, the goal is to rape Native American women.16 There is a game in which players engage in “ethnic cleansing” and can choose to gun down African-Americans, Latinos, or Jews.17 In still another game, players attempt to fire a rifle shot into the head of President Kennedy as his motorcade passes by the Texas School Book Depository.18

If the technological characteristics of the sophisticated games that are likely to be available in the near future are combined with the character*733istics of the most violent games already marketed, the result will be games that allow troubled teens to experience in an extraordinarily personal and vivid way what it would be like to carry out unspeakable acts of violence.

The Court is untroubled by this possibility. According to the Court, the “interactive” nature of video games is “nothing new” because “all literature is interactive.” Ante, at 798, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 719. Disagreeing with this assessment, the International Game Developers Association (IGDA)—a group that presumably understands the nature of video games and that supports respondents—tells us that video games are “far more concretely interactive.” Brief for IGDA et al. as Amici Curiae 3. And on this point, the game developers are surely correct.

[564 U.S. 820]

It is certainly true, as the Court notes, that “ ‘[l]iterature when it is successful draws the reader into the story, makes him identify with the characters, invites him to judge them and quarrel with them, to experience their joys and sufferings as the reader’s own.’ ” Ante, at 798, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 719 (quoting American Amusement Machine Assn. v. Kendrick, 244 F.3d 572, 577 (CA7 2001)). But only an extraordinarily imaginative reader who reads a description of a killing in a literary work will experience that event as vividly as he might if he played the role of the killer in a video game. To take an example, think of a person who reads the passage in Crime and Punishment in which Ras-kolnikov kills the old pawnbroker with an ax. See F. Dostoyevsky, Crime and Punishment 78 (Modern Library ed. 1950). Compare that reader with a video-game player who creates an avatar that bears his own image; who sees a realistic image of the victim and the scene of the killing in high definition and in three dimensions; who is forced to decide whether or not to kill the victim and decides to do so; who then pretends to grasp an ax, to raise it above the head of the victim, and then to bring it down; who hears the thud of the ax hitting her head and her cry of pain; who sees her split skull and feels the sensation of blood on his face and hands. For most people, the two experiences will not be the same.19

When all of the characteristics of video games are taken into account, there is certainly a reasonable basis for thinking that the experience of playing a video game may be quite different from the experience of reading a book, listening to a radio broadcast, or viewing a movie. And if this is so,

[564 U.S. 821]

then for at least some minors, the effects of playing violent video games may also be quite different. The Court acts prematurely in dismissing this possibility out of hand.

For all these reasons, I would hold only that the particular law at issue here fails to provide the clear notice that the Constitution requires. I would not squelch legislative efforts to deal with what is perceived by some to be a significant and developing social problem. If differently framed statutes are enacted by the *734States or by the Federal Government, we can consider the constitutionality of those laws when cases challenging them are presented to us.

Justice Thomas,

dissenting.

The Court’s decision today does not comport with the original public understanding of the First Amendment. The majority strikes down, as facially unconstitutional, a state law that prohibits the direct sale or rental of certain video games to minors because the law “abridges] the freedom of speech.” U. S. Const., Amdt. 1. But I do not think the First Amendment stretches that far. The practices and beliefs of the founding generation establish that “the freedom of speech,” as originally understood, does not include a right to speak to minors (or a right of minors to access speech) without going through the minors’ parents or guardians. I would hold that the law at issue is not facially unconstitutional under the First Amendment, and reverse and remand for further proceedings.1

[564 U.S. 822]

I

When interpreting a constitutional provision, “the goal is to discern the most likely public understanding of [that] provision at the time it was adopted.” McDonald v. Chicago, 561 U.S. 742, 828, 130 S. Ct. 3020, 177 L. Ed. 2d 894 (2010) (Thomas, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment). Because the Constitution is a written instrument, “its meaning does not alter.” McIntyre v. Ohio Elections Comm’n, 514 U.S. 334, 359, 115 S. Ct. 1511, 131 L. Ed. 2d 426 (1995) (Thomas, J., concurring in judgment) (internal quotation marks omitted). “That which it meant when adopted, it means now.” Ibid, (internal quotation marks omitted).

As originally understood, the First Amendment’s protection against laws “abridging the freedom of speech” did not extend to all speech. “There are certain well-defined and narrowly limited classes of speech, the prevention and punishment of which have never been thought to raise any Constitutional problem.” Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U.S. 568, 571-572, 62 S. Ct. 766, 86 L. Ed. 1031 (1942); see also United States v. Stevens, 559 U.S. 460, 468-469, 130 S. Ct. 1577, 176 L. Ed. 2d 435 (2010). Laws regulating such speech do not “abridg[e] the freedom of speech” because such speech is understood to fall outside “the freedom of speech.” See Ashcroft v. Free Speech Coalition, 535 U.S. 234, 245-246, 122 S. Ct. 1389, 152 L. Ed. 2d 403 (2002).

In my view, the “practices and beliefs held by the Founders” reveal another category of excluded speech: speech to minor children bypassing their parents. McIntyre, supra, at 360, 115 S. Ct. 1511, 131 L. Ed. 2d 426. The historical evidence shows that the founding generation believed parents had absolute authority over their minor children and expected parents to use that authority to direct the proper development of their children. It would be absurd to suggest that such a society understood “the

[564 U.S. 823]

freedom of speech” to include a right *735to speak to minors (or a corresponding right of minors to access speech) without going through the minors’ parents. Cf. Brief for Common Sense Media as Amicus Curiae 12-15. The founding generation would not have considered it an abridgment of “the freedom of speech” to support parental authority by restricting speech that bypasses minors’ parents.

A

Attitudes toward children were in a state of transition around the time that the States ratified the Bill of Rights. A complete understanding of the founding generation’s views on children and the parent-child relationship must therefore begin roughly a century earlier, in colonial New England.

In the Puritan tradition common in the New England Colonies, fathers ruled families with absolute authority. “The patriarchal family was the basic building block of Puritan society.” S. Mintz, Huck’s Raft 13 (2004) (hereinafter Mintz); see also R. MacDonald, Literature for Children in England and America From 1646 to 1774, p. 7 (1982) (hereinafter MacDonald). The Puritans rejected many customs, such as godparenthood, that they considered inconsistent with the patriarchal structure. Mintz 13.

Part of the father’s absolute power was the right and duty “to fill his children’s minds with knowledge and . . . make them apply their knowledge in right action.” E. Morgan, The Puritan Family 97 (rev. ed. 1966) (hereinafter Morgan). Puritans thought children were “innately sinful and that parents’ primary task was to suppress their children’s natural depravity.” S. Mintz & S. Kellogg, Domestic Revolutions 2 (1988) (hereinafter Mintz & Kellogg); see also B. Wadsworth, The Well-Ordered Family 55 (1712) (“Children should not be left to themselves ... to do as they please; . . . not being fit to govern themselves”); C. Mather, A Family Well-Ordered 38 (1699). Accordingly, parents were not to let their children read “vain Books, profane Ballads, and filthy Songs” or “fond and amorous Romances, . . . fabulous Histories of Giants, the bombast Achievements of Knight Errantry, and the like.” The History of Genesis, pp. vi-vii (3d ed. corrected 1708).

[564 U.S. 824]

This conception of parental authority was reflected in laws at that time. In the Massachusetts Colony, for example, it was unlawful for tavern keepers (or anyone else) to entertain children without their parents’ consent. 2 Records and Files of the Quarterly Courts of Essex County, Massachusetts, p. 180 (1912); 4 id., at 237, 275 (1914); 5 id., at 143 (1916); see also Morgan 146. And a “stubborn or REBELLIOUS SON” of 16 years or more committed a capital offense if he disobeyed “the voice of his Father, or the voice of his Mother.” The Laws and Liberties of Massachusetts 6 (1648) (reprint M. Farrand ed. 1929); see also J. Kamensky, Governing the Tongue 102, n. 14 (1997) (citing similar laws in the Connecticut, New Haven, Plymouth, and New Hampshire Colonies in the late 1600’s).

B

In the decades leading up to and following the Revolution, attitudes toward children changed. See, e.g., J. Reinier, From Virtue to Character: American Childhood, 1775-1850, p. 1 (1996) (hereinafter Reinier). Children came to be seen less as innately sinful and more as blank slates requiring careful and deliberate development. But the same overarching principles *736remained. Parents continued to have both the right and duty to ensure the proper development of their children. They exercised significant authority over their children, including control over the books that children read. And laws at the time continued to reflect strong support for parental authority and the sense that children were not fit to govern themselves.

1

The works of John Locke and Jean-Jacques Rousseau were a driving force behind the changed understanding of children and childhood. See id., at 2-5; H. Brewer, By Birth or Consent 97 (2005) (hereinafter Brewer); K. Calvert, Children in

[564 U.S. 825]

the House 59-60 (1992) (hereinafter Calvert). Locke taught that children’s minds were blank slates and that parents therefore had to be careful and deliberate about what their children were told and observed. Parents had only themselves to blame if, “by humour-ing and cockering” their children, they “poison’d the fountain” and later “taste[d] the bitter waters.” Some Thoughts Concerning Education (1692), in 37 English Philosophers of the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries 27-28 (C. Eliot ed. 1910). All vices, he explained, were sowed by parents and “those about children.” Id., at 29. Significantly, Locke did not suggest circumscribing parental authority but rather articulated a new basis for it. Rousseau disagreed with Locke in important respects, but his philosophy was similarly premised on parental control over a child’s development. Although Rousseau advocated that children should be allowed to develop naturally, he instructed that the environment be directed by “a tutor who is given total control over the child and who removes him from society, from all competing sources of authority and influence.” J. Fliegel-man, Prodigals and Pilgrims 30 (1982) (hereinafter Fliegelman); see also Reinier 15.

These writings received considerable attention in America. Locke’s An Essay Concerning Human Understanding and his Some Thoughts Concerning Education were significantly more popular than his Two Treatises of Government, according to a study of 92 colonial libraries between 1700 and 1776. Lundberg & May, The Enlightened Reader in America, 28 American Quarterly 262, 273 (1976) (hereinafter Lundberg). And Rousseau’s Emile, a treatise on education, was more widely advertised and distributed than his political work, The Social Contract. Fliegelman 29; see also Lundberg 285. In general, the most popular books in the Colonies on the eve of the American Revolution were not political discourses but ones concerned with child rearing. See Mintz & Kellogg 45.

[564 U.S. 826]

2

Locke’s and Rousseau’s writings fostered a new conception of childhood. Children were increasingly viewed as malleable creatures, and childhood came to be seen as an important period of growth, development, and preparation for adulthood. See id., at 17, 21, 47; M. Grossberg, Governing the Hearth 8 (1985) (hereinafter Grossberg). Noah Webster, called the father of American education, wrote that “ [t]he impressions received in early life usually form the characters of individuals.” On the Education of Youth in America (1790) (hereinafter Webster), in Essays on Education in the Early Republic 43 (F. Rudolph ed. 1965) (hereinafter Rudolph); cf. Slater, Noah Webster: Founding Father of Ameri*737can Scholarship and Education, in Noah Webster’s First Edition of an American Dictionary of the English Language (1967). Elizabeth Smith, sister-in-law to John Adams, similarly wrote: “The Infant Mind, I beleive[,] is a blank, that eassily receives any impression.” M. Norton, Liberty’s Daughters 101 (1996) (hereinafter Norton) (internal quotation marks omitted; alteration in original); see also S. Doggett, A Discourse on Education (1796) (hereinafter Doggett), in Rudolph 151 (“[I]n early youth,. . . every power and capacity is pliable and susceptible of any direction or impression”); J. Abbott, The Mother at Home 2 (1834) (hereinafter Abbott) (“What impressions can be more strong, and more lasting, than those received upon the mind in the freshness and the susceptibility of youth”).

Children lacked reason and deci-sionmaking ability. They “have not Judgment or Will of their own,” John Adams noted. Letter to James Sullivan (May 26, 1776), in 4 Papers of John Adams 210 (R. Taylor ed. 1979); see also Vol. 1 1787: Drafting the Constitution, p. 229 (W. Benton ed. 1986) (quoting Gouverneur Morris in James Madison’s notes from the Constitutional Convention explaining that children do not vote because they “want prudence” and “have no will of their own”). Children’s “utter incapacity” rendered them “almost

[564 U.S. 827]

wholly at the mercy of their Parents or Instructors for a set of habits to regulate their whole conduct through life.” J. Burgh, Thoughts on Education 7 (1749) (hereinafter Burgh) (emphasis deleted).

This conception of childhood led to great concern about influences on children. “Youth are ever learning to do what they see others around them doing, and these imitations grow into habits.” Doggett, in Rudolph 151; see also B. Rush, A Plan for the Establishment of Public Schools (1786) (hereinafter Rush), in Rudolph 16 (“The vices of young people are generally learned from each other”); Webster, in Rudolph 58 (“[CJhildren, artless and unsuspecting, resign their hearts to any person whose manners are agreeable and whose conduct is respectable”). Books therefore advised parents “not to put children in the way of those whom you dare not trust.” L. Child, The Mother’s Book 149 (1831) (hereinafter Child); see also S. Coontz, The Social Origins of Private Life 149-150 (1988) (noting that it was “considered dangerous to leave children to the supervision of servants or apprentices”).

As a result, it was widely accepted that children needed close monitoring and carefully planned development. See B. Wishy, The Child and the Republic 24-25, 32 (1968) (hereinafter Wishy); Grossberg 8. Managing the young mind was considered “infinitely important.” Doggett, in Rudolph 151; see also A. MacLeod, A Moral Tale 72-73 (1975) (hereinafter MacLeod). In an essay on the education of youth in America, Noah Webster described the human mind as “a rich field, which, without constant care, will ever be covered with a luxuriant growth of weeds.” Rudolph 54. He advocated sheltering children from “every low-bred, drunken, immoral character” and keeping their minds “untainted till their reasoning faculties have acquired strength and the good principles which may be planted in their minds have taken deep root.” Id., at 63; see also Rush, in id., at 16 (“[T]he most useful citizens have been formed from those youth who have

[564 U.S. 828]

never known or felt their own wills till they were one and twenty years of age”); Burgh 7 (“[T]he souls of Youth *738are more immediately committed to the care of their Parents and Instructors than even those of a People are to their Pastor”).

The Revolution only amplified these concerns. The Republic would require virtuous citizens, which necessitated proper training from childhood. See Mintz 54, 71; MacLeod 40; Saxton, French and American Childhoods, in Children and Youth in a New Nation 69 (J. Marten ed. 2009) (hereinafter Marten); see also W. Cardell, Story of Jack Halyard, pp. xv-xvi (30th ed. 1834) (hereinafter Cardell) (“[T]he glory and efficacy of our institutions will soon rest with those who are growing up to succede us”). Children were “the pivot of the moral world,” and their proper development was “a subject of as high interest, as any to which the human mind ha[d] ever been called.” Id., at xvi.

3

Based on these views of childhood, the founding generation understood parents to have a right and duty to govern their children’s growth. Parents were expected to direct the development and education of their children and ensure that bad habits did not take root. See Calvert 58-59; MacLeod 72; Mintz & Kellogg 23. They were responsible for instilling “moral prohibitions, behavioral standards, and a capacity for self-government that would prepare a child for the outside world.” Mintz & Kellogg 58; see also Youth’s Companion, Apr. 16, 1827, p. 1 (hereinafter Youth’s Companion) (“Let [children’s] minds be formed, their hearts prepared, and their characters moulded for the scenes and the duties of a brighter day”). In short, “[h]ome and family bore the major responsibility for the moral training of children and thus, by implication, for the moral health of the nation.” MacLeod 29; see also Introduction, in Marten 6; Reinier, p. xi; Smith, Autonomy and Affection: Parents and Children

[564 U.S. 829]

in Eighteenth-Century Chesapeake Families, in Growing up in America 54 (N. Hiner & J. Hawes eds. 1985).

This conception of parental rights and duties was exemplified by Thomas Jefferson’s approach to raising children. He wrote letters to his daughters constantly and often gave specific instructions about what the children should do. See, e.g., Letter to Martha Jefferson (Nov. 28, 1783), in S. Randolph, The Domestic Life of Thomas Jefferson 44 (1939) (dictating her daily schedule of music, dancing, drawing, and studying); Letter to Martha Jefferson (Dec. 22, 1783), in id., at 45-46 (“I do not wish you to be gaily clothed at this time of life .... [A]bove all things and at all times let your clothes be neat, whole, and properly put on”). Jefferson expected his daughter, Martha, to write “by every post” and instructed her, “Inform me what books you read [and] what tunes you learn.” Letter (Nov. 28, 1783), in id., at 44. He took the same approach with his nephew, Peter Carr, after Carr’s father died. See Letter (Aug. 19, 1785), in 8 The Papers of Thomas Jefferson 405-408 (J. Boyd ed. 1953) (detailing a course of reading and exercise, and asking for monthly progress reports describing “in what manner you employ every hour in the day”); see also 3 Dictionary ofVirginia Biography 29 (2006).

Jefferson’s rigorous management of his charges was not uncommon. “[M]uch evidence indicates that mothers and fathers both believed in giving their children a strict upbringing, enforcing obedience to their commands *739and stressing continued subjection to the parental will.” Norton 96. Two parenting books published in the 1830’s gave prototypical advice. In The Mother’s Book, Lydia Child advised that “[t]he first and most important step in management is, that whatever a mother says, always must be done.” Child 26. John Abbott, the author of The Mother at Home, likewise advised that “[o]bedience is absolutely essential to proper family government.” Abbott 18. Echoing Locke, Abbott warned that parents who indulged a child’s “foolish and unreasonable

[564 U.S. 830]

wishes” would doom that child to be indulgent in adulthood. Id., at 16.

The concept of total parental control over children’s lives extended into the schools. “The government both of families and schools should be absolute,” declared Noah Webster. Rudolph 57-58. Dr. Benjamin Rush concurred: “In the education of youth, let the authority of our masters be as absolute as possible.” Id., at 16. Through the doctrine of in loco parentis, teachers assumed the “ ‘sacred dut[y] of parents ... to train up and qualify their children’ ” and exercised the same authority “ ‘to command obedience, to control stubbornness, to quicken diligence, and to reform bad habits.’ ” Morse v. Frederick, 551 U.S. 393, 413-414, 127 S. Ct. 2618, 168 L. Ed. 2d 290 (2007) (Thomas, J., concurring) (quoting State v. Pendergrass, 19 N.C. 365, 365-366 (1837)); see also Wishy 73. Thus, the quality of teachers and schools had to “be watched with the most scrupulous attention.” Webster, in Rudolph 64.

For their part, children were expected to be dutiful and obedient. Mintz & Kellogg 53; Wishy 31; cf. J. Kett, Rites of Passage 45 (1977). Schoolbooks instructed children to do so and frequently featured vignettes illustrating the consequences of disobedience. See Adams, “Pictures of the Vicious ultimately overcome by misery and shame”: The Cultural Work of Early National Schoolbooks (hereinafter Adams), in Marten 156. One oft-related example was the hangings of 19 alleged witches in 1692, which, the schoolbooks noted, likely began with false complaints by two young girls. See J. Morse, The American Geography 191 (1789); see also Adams, in Marten 164.

An entire genre of books, “loosely termed ‘advice to youth,’ ” taught similar lessons well into the 1800’s. J. Demos, Circles and Lines: The Shape of Life in Early America 73 (2004); cf. Wishy 54. “Next to your duty to God,” advised one book, “is your duty to your parents,” even if the child did not “understand the reason of their commands.” L. Sigourney, The Girl’s Reading Book 44 (14th ed.

[564 U.S. 831]

1843); see also Filial Duty Recommended and Enforced, Introduction, p. iii (c. 1798); The Parent’s Present 44 (3d ed. 1841). “Disobedience is generally punished in some way or other,” warned another, “and often very severely.” S. Goodrich, Peter Parley’s Book of Fables 43 (1836); see also The Country School-House 27 (1848) (“[T]he number of children who die from the effects of disobedience to their parents is very large”).

4

Society’s concern with children’s development extended to the books they read. “Vice always spreads by being published,” Noah Webster observed. Rudolph 62. “[Y]oung people are taught many vices by fiction, books, or public exhibitions, vices which they never would have known had they *740never read such books or attended such public places.” Ibid.; see also Cardell, p. xii (cautioning parents that “[t]he first reading lessons for children have an extensive influence on the acquisitions and habits of future years”); Youth’s Companion 1 (“[T]he capacities of children, and the peculiar situation and duties of youth, require select and appropriate reading”). Prominent children’s authors harshly criticized fairy tales and the use of anthropomorphic animals. See, e.g., S. Goodrich, 2 Recollections of a Lifetime 320, n.* (1856) (describing fairy tales as “calculated to familiarize the mind with things shocking and monstrous; to cultivate a taste for tales of bloodshed and violence; to teach the young to use coarse language, and cherish vulgar ideas; . . . and to fill [the youthful mind] with the horrors of a debased and debauched fancy”); 1 id., at 167 (recalling that children’s books were “full of nonsense” and “lies”); Cardell, p. xiv (“The fancy of converting inferior animals into ‘teachers of children,’ has been carried to ridiculous extravagance”); see also MacDonald 83, 103 (noting that fables and works of fantasy were not popular in America in the 1700’s).

Adults carefully controlled what they published for children. Stories written for children were dedicated to moral

[564 U.S. 832]

instruction and were relatively austere, lacking details that might titillate children’s minds. See MacLeod 24-25, 42-48; see also id., at 42 (“The authors of juvenile fiction imposed the constraints upon themselves in the name of duty, and for the sake of giving to children what they thought children should have, although they were often well aware that children might prefer more exciting fare”); Francis, American Children’s Literature, 1646-1880, in American Childhood 208-209 (J. Hawes & N. Hiner eds. 1985). John Newbery, the publisher often credited with creating the genre of children’s literature, removed traditional folk characters, like Tom Thumb, from their original stories and placed them in new morality tales in which good children were rewarded and disobedient children punished. Reinier 12.

Parents had total authority over what their children read. See A. MacLeod, American Childhood 177 (1994) (“Ideally, if not always actually, nineteenth-century parents regulated their children’s lives fully, certainly including their reading”). Lydia Child put it bluntly in The Mother’s Book: “Children . . . should not read anything without a mother’s knowledge and sanction; this is particularly necessary between the ages of twelve and sixteen.” Child 92; see also id., at 143 (“[P]arents, or some guardian friends, should carefully examine every volume they put into the hands of young people”); E. Monaghan, Learning To Read and Write in Colonial America 337 (2005) (reviewing a 12-year-old girl’s journal from the early 1770’s and noting that the child’s aunts monitored and guided her reading).

5

The law at the time reflected the founding generation’s understanding of parent-child relations. According to Sir William Blackstone, parents were responsible for maintaining, protecting, and educating their children, and therefore had “power” over their children. 1 Commentaries on the Laws of England 434, 440-441 (1765); cf. Washington v.

[564 U.S. 833]

Glucksberg, 521 U.S. 702, 712, 117 S. Ct. 2258, 117 S. Ct. 2302, 138 L. Ed. 2d 772 (1997) (Blackstone’s Commentaries was “a primary legal *741authority for 18th- and 19th-century American lawyers”). Chancellor James Kent agreed. 2 Commentaries on American Law *189-*207. The law entitled parents to “the custody of their [children],” “the value of th[e] [children’s] labor and services,” and the “right to the exercise of such discipline as may be requisite for the discharge of their sacred trust.” Id., at *193, *203. Children, in turn, were charged with “obedience and assistance during their own minority, and gratitude and reverance during the rest of their lives.” Id., at *207.

Thus, in case after case, courts made clear that parents had a right to the child’s labor and services until the child reached majority. In 1810, the Supreme Judicial Court of Massachusetts explained, “There is no question but that a father, who is entitled to the services of his minor son, and for whom he is obliged to provide, may, at the common law, assign those services to others, for a consideration to enure to himself.” Day v. Everett, 7 Mass. 145, 147; see also Benson v. Remington, 2 Mass. 113, 115 (1806) (opinion of Parsons, C. J.) (“The law is very well settled, that parents are under obligations to support their children, and that they are entitled to their earnings”). Similarly, the Supreme Court of Judicature of New Hampshire noted that the right of parents to recover for the services of their child, while a minor, “cannot be contested.” Gale v. Parrot, 1 N.H. 28, 29 (1817). And parents could bring tort suits against those who knowingly enticed a minor away from them. See, e.g., Kirkpatrick v. Lockhart, 2 Brev. 276 (S. C. Constitutional Ct. 1809); Jones v. Tevis, 4 Litt. 25 (Ky. App. 1823).

Relatedly, boys could not enlist in the military without parental consent. Many of those who did so during the Revolutionary War found, after-wards, that their fathers were entitled to their military wages. See Cox, Boy Soldiers of the American Revolution, in Marten 21-24. And after the

[564 U.S. 834]

war, minors who enlisted without parental consent in violation of federal law could find themselves returned home on writs of habeas corpus issued at their parents’ request. See, e.g., United States v. Anderson, 24 F. Cas. 813 (No. 14,449) (CC Tenn. 1812); Commonwealth v. Callan, 6 Binn. 255 (Pa. 1814) (per curiam).

Laws also set age limits restricting marriage without parental consent. For example, from 1730 until at least 1849, Pennsylvania law required parental consent for the marriage of anyone under the age of 21. See 4 Statutes at Large of Pennsylvania 153 (J. Mitchell & H. Flanders eds. 1897) (hereinafter Pa. Stats. at Large); General Laws of Pennsylvania 82-83 (J. Dunlop 2d ed. 1849) (including the 1730 marriage law with no amendments); see also Perpetual Laws of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts 253 (1788), in The First Laws of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts (J. Cushing ed. 1981). In general, “[p]ost-Revolutionary marriage law assumed that below a certain age, children could . . . no[t] intellectually understand its significance.” Grossberg 105.

Indeed, the law imposed age limits on all manner of activities that required judgment and reason. Children could not vote, could not serve on juries, and generally could not be witnesses in criminal cases unless they were older than 14. See Brewer 43, 145, 148, 159. Nor could they swear loyalty to a State. See, e.g., 9 Pa. Stats, at Large 111 (1903 ed.). Early federal laws granting aliens the abil*742ity to become citizens provided that those under 21 were deemed citizens if their fathers chose to naturalize. See, e.g., Act of Mar. 26, 1790, 1 Stat. 104; Act of Jan. 29, 1795, ch. 20, 1 Stat. 415.

C

The history clearly shows a founding generation that believed parents to have complete authority over their minor children and expected parents to direct the development of those children. The Puritan tradition in New England laid the foundation of American parental authority and duty.

[564 U.S. 835]

See MacDonald 6 (“The Puritans are virtually the inventors of the family as we know it today”). In the decades leading up to and following the Revolution, the conception of the child’s mind evolved but the duty and authority of parents remained. Indeed, society paid closer attention to potential influences on children than before. See Mintz 72 (“By weakening earlier forms of patriarchal authority, the Revolution enhanced the importance of childrearing and education in ensuring social stability”). Teachers and schools came under scrutiny, and children’s reading material was carefully supervised. Laws reflected these concerns and often supported parental authority with the coercive power of the state.

II

A

In light of this history, the Framers could not possibly have understood “the freedom of speech” to include an unqualified right to speak to minors. Specifically, I am sure that the founding generation would not have understood “the freedom of speech” to include a right to speak to children without going through their parents. As a consequence, I do not believe that laws limiting such speech—for example, by requiring parental consent to speak to a minor—“abridg[e] the freedom of speech” within the original meaning of the First Amendment.

We have recently noted that this Court does not have “freewheeling authority to declare new categories of speech outside the scope of the First Amendment.” Stevens, 559 U.S., at 472, 130 S. Ct. 1577, 176 L. Ed. 2d 435. But we also recognized that there may be “some categories of speech that have been historically unprotected [and] have not yet been specifically identified or discussed as such in our case law.” Ibid. In my opinion, the historical evidence here plainly reveals one such category.2

[564 U.S. 836]

B

Admittedly, the original public understanding of a constitutional provi*743sion does not always comport with modern sensibilities. See Morse, 551 U.S., at 419, 127 S. Ct. 2618, 168 L. Ed. 2d 290 (Thomas, J., concurring) (treating students “as though it were still the 19th century would find little support today”). It may also be inconsistent with precedent. See McDonald, 561 U.S., at 851-855, 130 S. Ct. 3020, 177 L. Ed. 2d 894 (Thomas, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment) (rejecting the Slaughter-House Cases, 16 Wall. 36, 21 L. Ed. 394 (1873), as inconsistent with the original public meaning of the Privileges or Immunities Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment).

This, however, is not such a case. Although much has changed in this country since the Revolution, the notion that parents have authority over their children and that the law can support that authority persists today. For example, at least some States make it a crime to lure or entice a minor away from the minor’s parent. See, e.g., Cal. Penal Code Ann. § 272(b)(1) (West 2008); Fla. Stat. § 787.03 (2010). Every State in the Union still establishes a minimum age for marriage without parental or judicial consent. Cf. Roper v. Simmons, 543 U.S. 551, 558, 125 S. Ct. 1183, 161 L. Ed. 2d 1 (2005) (Appendix D to opinion

[564 U.S. 837]

of the Court). Individuals less than 18 years old cannot enlist in the military without parental consent. 10 U.S.C. § 505(a). And minors remain subject to curfew laws across the country, see Brief for State of Louisiana et al. as Amici Curiae 16, and cannot unilaterally consent to most medical procedures, id., at 15.

Moreover, there are many things minors today cannot do at all, whether they have parental consent or not. State laws set minimum ages for voting and jury duty. See Roper, supra, at 581-585, 125 S. Ct. 1183, 161 L. Ed. 2d 1 (Appendixes B and C to opinion of the Court). In California (the State at issue here), minors cannot drive for hire or drive a school bus, Cal. Veh. Code Ann. §§ 12515, 12516 (West 2010), purchase tobacco, Cal. Penal Code Ann. § 308(b) (West 2008), play bingo for money, § 326.5(e), or execute a will, Cal. Prob. Code Ann. § 6220 (West 2009).

My understanding of “the freedom of speech” is also consistent with this Court’s precedents. To be sure, the Court has held that children are entitled to the protection of the First Amendment, see, e.g., Erznoznik v. Jacksonville, 422 U.S. 205, 212-213, 95 S. Ct. 2268, 45 L. Ed. 2d 125 (1975), and the government may not unilaterally dictate what children can say or hear, see id., at 213-214, 95 S. Ct. 2268, 45 L. Ed. 2d 125; Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School Dist., 393 U.S. 503, 511, 89 S. Ct. 733, 21 L. Ed. 2d 731 (1969). But this Court has never held, until today, that “the freedom of speech” includes a right to speak to minors (or a right of minors to access speech) without going through the minors’ parents. To the contrary, “ [i] t is well settled that a State or municipality can adopt more stringent controls on communicative materials available to youths than on those available to adults.” Erznoznik, supra, at 212, 95 S. Ct. 2268, 45 L. Ed. 2d 125; cf. post, at 841-842, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 746 (Breyer, J., dissenting).

The Court’s constitutional jurisprudence “historically has reflected Western civilization concepts of the family as a unit with broad parental authority over minor children.” Parham v. J. R., 442 U.S. 584, 602, 99 S. Ct. 2493, 61 L. Ed. 2d 101 (1979). Under that case law,

[564 U.S. 838]

“legislature [s] [can] properly conclude that parents and *744others, teachers for example, who have . . . primary responsibility for children’s well-being are entitled to the support of laws designed to aid discharge of that responsibility.” Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U.S. 629, 639, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195 (1968); see also Bellotti v. Baird, 443 U.S. 622, 635, 99 S. Ct. 3035, 61 L. Ed. 2d 797 (1979) (opinion of Powell, J.) (“[T]he State is entitled to adjust its legal system to account for children’s vulnerability and their needs for concern, . . . sympathy, and . . . paternal attention” (internal quotation marks omitted)). This is because “the tradition of parental authority is not inconsistent with our tradition of individual liberty; rather, the former is one of the basic presuppositions of the latter.” Id., at 638, 99 S. Ct. 3035, 61 L. Ed. 2d 797; id., at 638-639, 99 S. Ct. 3035, 61 L. Ed. 2d 797 (“Legal restrictions on minors, especially those supportive of the parental role, may be important to the child’s chances for the full growth and maturity that make eventual participation in a free society meaningful and rewarding”).

Ill

The California law at issue here forbids the sale or rental of “violent video game[s]” to minors, defined as anyone “under 18 years of age.” Cal. Civ. Code Ann. §§ 1746.1(a), 1746 (West 2009). A violation of the law is punishable by a civil fine of up to $1,000. § 1746.3. Critically, the law does not prohibit adults from buying or renting violent video games for a minor or prohibit minors from playing such games. Cf. ante, at 814, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 729 (Alito, J., concurring in judgment); post, at 848, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 750 (Breyer, J., dissenting). The law also does not restrict a “minor’s parent, grandparent, aunt, uncle, or legal guardian” from selling or renting him a violent video game. § 1746.1(c).

Respondents, associations of companies in the video game industry, brought a preenforcement challenge to California’s law, claiming that on its face the law violates the free speech rights of their members. The Court holds that video games are speech for purposes of the First Amendment and finds

[564 U.S. 839]

the statute facially unconstitutional. See ante, at 789-790, 799-804, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 714, 720-723. I disagree.

Under any of this Court’s standards for a facial First Amendment challenge, this one must fail. The video game associations cannot show “that no set of circumstances exists under which [the law] would be valid,” “that the statute lacks any plainly legitimate sweep,” or that “a substantial number of its applications are unconstitutional, judged in relation to the statute’s plainly legitimate sweep.” Stevens, 559 U.S., at 472, 473, 130 S. Ct. 1577, 176 L. Ed. 2d 435 (internal quotation marks omitted). Even assuming that video games are speech, in most applications the California law does not implicate the First Amendment. All that the law does is prohibit the direct sale or rental of a violent video game to a minor by someone other than the minor’s parent, grandparent, aunt, uncle, or legal guardian. Where a minor has a parent or guardian, as is usually true, the law does not prevent that minor from obtaining a violent video game with his parent’s or guardian’s help. In the typical case, the only speech affected is speech that bypasses a minor’s parent or guardian. Because such speech does not fall within “the freedom of speech” as originally understood, California’s law does not ordinarily *745implicate the First Amendment and is not facially unconstitutional.3

“The freedom of speech,” as originally understood, does not include a right to speak to minors without going through the minors’ parents or guardians. Therefore, I cannot agree that the statute at issue is facially unconstitutional under the First Amendment.

I respectfully dissent.

[564 U.S. 840]

Justice Breyer,

dissenting.

California imposes a civil fine of up to $1,000 upon any person who distributes a violent video game in California without labeling it “18,” or who sells or rents a labeled violent video game to a person under the age of 18. Representatives of the video game and software industries, claiming that the statute violates the First Amendment on its face, seek an injunction against its enforcement. Applying traditional First Amendment analysis, I would uphold the statute as constitutional on its face and would consequently reject the industries’ facial challenge.

I

A

California’s statute defines a violent video game as: A game in which a player “kill [s], maim[s], dismember [s], or sexually assault[s] an image of a human being,” and

“[a] reasonable person, considering the game as a whole, would find [the game] appeals to a deviant or morbid interest of minors,”

and

“[the game] is patently offensive to prevailing standards in the community as to what is suitable for minors,”

and

“the game, as a whole, . . . lack[s] serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value for minors.” Cal. Civ. Code Ann. § 1746(d)(1) (West 2009).

The statute in effect forbids the sale of such a game to minors unless they are accompanied by a parent; it requires the makers of the game to affix a label identifying it as a game suitable only for those aged 18 and over; it exempts retailers from liability unless such a label is properly affixed to the

[564 U.S. 841]

game; and it imposes a civil fine of up to $1,000 upon a violator. See §§ 1746.1-1746.3.

B

A facial challenge to this statute based on the First Amendment can succeed only if “a substantial number of its applications are unconstitutional, judged in relation to the statute’s plainly legitimate sweep.” United States v. Stevens, 559 U.S. 460, 473, 130 S. Ct. 1577, 176 L. Ed. 2d 435 (2010) (internal quotation marks omitted). Moreover, it is more difficult to mount a facial First Amendment attack on a statute that seeks to regulate activity that involves action as well as speech. See Broadrick v. Oklahoma, 413 U.S. 601, 614-615, 93 S. Ct. 2908, 37 L. Ed. 2d *746830 (1973). Hence, I shall focus here upon an area within which I believe the State can legitimately apply its statute, namely, sales to minors under the age of 17 (the age cutoff used by the industry’s own ratings system), of highly realistic violent video games, which a reasonable game maker would know meet the Act’s criteria. That area lies at the heart of the statute. I shall assume that the number of instances in which the State will enforce the statute within that area is comparatively large, and that the number outside that area (for example, sales to 17-year-olds) is comparatively small. And the activity the statute regulates combines speech with action (a virtual form of target practice).

C

In determining whether the statute is unconstitutional, I would apply both this Court’s “vagueness” precedents and a strict form of First Amendment scrutiny. In doing so, the special First Amendment category I find relevant is not (as the Court claims) the category of “depictions of violence,” ante, at 795, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 718, but rather the category of “protection of children.” This Court has held that the “power of the state to control the conduct of children reaches beyond the scope of its authority over adults.” Prince v. Massachusetts, 321 U.S. 158, 170, 64 S. Ct. 438, 88 L. Ed. 645 (1944). And the “ ‘regulado [n] of communication

[564 U.S. 842]

addressed to [children] need not conform to the requirements of the [F]irst [A]mendment in the same way as those applicable to adults.’ ” Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U.S. 629, 638, n. 6, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195 (1968) (quoting Emerson, Toward a General Theory of the First Amendment, 72 Yale L. J. 877, 939 (1963)).

The majority’s claim that the California statute, if upheld, would create a “new categor[y] of unprotected speech,” ante, at 791, 794, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 715, 717, is overstated. No one here argues that depictions of violence, even extreme violence, automatically fall outside the First Amendment’s protective scope as, for example, do obscenity and depictions of child pornography. We properly speak of categories of expression that lack protection when, like “child pornography,” the category is broad, when it applies automatically, and when the State can prohibit everyone, including adults, from obtaining access to the material within it. But where, as here, careful analysis must precede a narrower judicial conclusion (say, denying protection to a shout of “fire” falsely made in a crowded theater, or to an effort to teach a terrorist group how to peacefully petition the United Nations), we do not normally describe the result as creating a “new category of unprotected speech.” See Schenck v. United States, 249 U.S. 47, 52, 39 S. Ct. 247, 63 L. Ed. 470 (1919); Holder v. Humanitarian Law Project, 561 U.S. 1, 130 S. Ct. 2705, 177 L. Ed. 2d 355 (2010).

Thus, in Stevens, after rejecting the claim that all depictions of animal cruelty (a category) fall outside the First Amendment’s protective scope, we went on to decide whether the particular statute at issue violates the First Amendment under traditional standards; and we held that, because the statute was overly broad, it was invalid. Similarly, here the issue is whether, applying traditional First Amendment standards, this statute does, or does not, pass muster.

II

In my view, California’s statute provides “fair notice of what is prohib*747ited,” and consequently it is not impermissibly vague. United States v. Williams, 553 U.S. 285, 304, 128 S. Ct. 1830, 170 L. Ed. 2d 650 (2008).

[564 U.S. 843]

Ginsberg explains why that is so. The Court there considered a New York law that forbade the sale to minors of a

“picture, photograph, drawing, sculpture, motion picture film, or similar visual representation or image of a person or portion of the human body which depicts nudity

that

“predominately appeals to the prurient, shameful or morbid interest of minors,”

and

“is patently offensive to prevailing standards in the adult community as a whole with respect to what is suitable material for minors,”

and

“is utterly without redeeming social importance for minors.” 390 U.S., at 646-647, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195.

This Court upheld the New York statute in Ginsberg (which is sometimes unfortunately confused with a very different, earlier case, Ginzburg v. United States, 383 U.S. 463, 86 S. Ct. 942, 16 L. Ed. 2d 31 (1966)). The five-Justice majority, in an opinion written by Justice Brennan, wrote that the statute was sufficiently clear. 390 U.S., at 643-645, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195. No Member of the Court voiced any vagueness objection. See id., at 648-650, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195 (Stewart, J., concurring in result); id., at 650-671, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195 (Douglas, J., joined by Black, J., dissenting); id., at 671-675, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195 (Fortas, J., dissenting).

Comparing the language of California’s statute (set forth supra, at 840, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 745) with the language of New York’s statute (set forth immediately above), it is difficult to find any vagueness-related difference. Why are the words “kill,” “maim,” and “dismember” any more difficult to understand than the word “nudity?” Justice Alito objects that these words do “not perform the narrowing function” that this Court has required in adult obscenity cases, where statutes

[564 U.S. 844]

can only cover “ ‘hard core’ ” depictions. Ante, at 810, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 727 (opinion concurring in judgment). But the relevant comparison is not to adult obscenity cases but to Ginsberg, which dealt with “nudity,” a category no more “narrow” than killing and maiming. And in any event, narrowness and vagueness do not necessarily have anything to do with one another. All that is required for vagueness purposes is that the terms “kill,” “maim,” and “dismember” give fair notice as to what they cover, which they do.

The remainder of California’s definition copies, almost word for word, the language this Court used in Miller v. California, 413 U.S. 15, 93 S. Ct. 2607, 37 L. Ed. 2d 419 (1973), in permitting a total ban on material that satisfied its definition (one enforced with criminal penalties). The California law’s reliance on “community standards” adheres to Miller, and in Fort Wayne Books, Inc. v. Indiana, 489 U.S. 46, 57-58, 109 S. Ct. 916, 103 L. Ed. 2d 34 (1989), this Court specifically upheld the use of Miller’s language against charges of vagueness. California only departed from the Miller formulation in two signifi*748cant respects: It substituted the word “deviant” for the words “prurient” and “shameful,” and it three times added the words “for minors.” The word “deviant” differs from “prurient” and “shameful,” but it would seem no less suited to defining and narrowing the reach of the statute. And the addition of “for minors” to a version of the Miller standard was approved in Ginsberg, supra, at 643, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195, even though the New York law “dr[ew] no distinction between young children and adolescents who are nearing the age of majority,” ante, at 812, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 728 (opinion of Alito, J.).

Both the Miller standard and the law upheld in Ginsberg lack perfect clarity. But that fact reflects the difficulty of the Court’s long search for words capable of protecting expression without depriving the State of a legitimate constitutional power to regulate. As is well known, at one point Justice Stewart thought he could do no better in defining obscenity than, “I know it when I see it.” Jacobellis v. Ohio, 378 U.S. 184, 197, 84 S. Ct. 1676, 12 L. Ed. 2d 793 (1964) (concurring opinion). And Justice

[564 U.S. 845]

Douglas dissented from Miller’s standard, which he thought was still too vague. 413 U.S., at 39-40, 93 S. Ct. 2607, 37 L. Ed. 2d 419. Ultimately, however, this Court accepted the “community standards” tests used in Miller and Ginsberg. They reflect the fact that sometimes, even when a precise standard proves elusive, it is easy enough to identify instances that fall within a legitimate regulation. And they seek to draw a line, which, while favoring free expression, will nonetheless permit a legislature to find the words necessary to accomplish a legitimate constitutional objective. Cf. Williams, 553 U.S., at 304, 128 S. Ct. 1830, 170 L. Ed. 2d 650 (the Constitution does not always require “ ‘perfect clarity and precise guidance,’ ” even when “ ‘expressive activity’ ” is involved).

What, then, is the difference between Ginsberg and Miller on the one hand and the California law on the other? It will often be easy to pick out cases at which California’s statute directly aims, involving, say, a character who shoots out a police officer’s knee, douses him with gasoline, lights him on fire, urinates on his burning body, and finally kills him with a gunshot to the head. (Footage of one such game sequence has been submitted in the record.) See also ante, at 818-819, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 732-733 (opinion of Alito, J.). As in Miller and Ginsberg, the California law clearly protects even the most violent games that possess serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value. § 1746(d)(1)(A)(iii). And it is easier here than in Miller or Ginsberg to separate the sheep from the goats at the statute’s border. That is because here the industry itself has promulgated standards and created a review process, in which adults who “typically have experience with children” assess what games are inappropriate for minors. See Entertainment Software Rating Board, Rating Process, online at http://www.esrb.org/ ratings/, process.jsp (all Internet materials as visited June 24, 2011, and available in Clerk of Court’s case file).

There is, of course, one obvious difference: The Ginsberg statute concerned depictions of “nudity,” while California’s statute concerns extremely violent video games. But for

[564 U.S. 846]

purposes of vagueness, why should that matter? Justice Alito argues that the Miller standard sufficed because there are “certain generally accepted *749norms concerning expression related to sex,” whereas there are no similarly “accepted standards regarding the suitability of violent entertainment.” Ante, at 811-812, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 728. But there is no evidence that is so. The Court relied on “community standards” in Miller precisely because of the difficulty of articulating “accepted norms” about depictions of sex. I can find no difference—historical or otherwise—that is relevant to the vagueness question. Indeed, the majority’s examples of literary descriptions of violence, on which Justice Ah to relies, do not show anything relevant at all.

After all, one can find in literature as many (if not more) descriptions of physical love as descriptions of violence. Indeed, sex “has been a theme in art and literature throughout the ages.” Ashcroft v. Free Speech Coalition, 535 U.S. 234, 246, 122 S. Ct. 1389, 152 L. Ed. 2d 403 (2002). For every Homer, there is a Titian. For every Dante, there is an Ovid. And for all the teenagers who have read the original versions of Grimm’s Fairy Tales, I suspect there are those who know the story of Lady Godiva.

Thus, I can find no meaningful vagueness-related differences between California’s law and the New York law upheld in Ginsberg. And if there remain any vagueness problems, the state courts can cure them through interpretation. See Erznoznik v. Jacksonville, 422 U.S. 205, 216, 95 S. Ct. 2268, 45 L. Ed. 2d 125 (1975) (“state statute should not be deemed facially invalid unless it is not readily subject to a narrowing construction by the state courts”). Cf. Ginsberg, 390 U.S., at 644, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195 (relying on the fact that New York Court of Appeals would read a knowledge requirement into the statute); Berry v. Santa Barbara, 40 Cal. App. 4th 1075, 1088-1089, 47 Cal. Rptr. 2d 661, 669 (1995) (reading a knowledge requirement into a statute). Consequently, for purposes of this facial challenge, I would not find the statute unconstitutionally vague.

[564 U.S. 847]

III

Video games combine physical action with expression. Were physical activity to predominate in a game, government could appropriately intervene, say by requiring parents to accompany children when playing a game involving actual target practice, or restricting the sale of toys presenting physical dangers to children. See generally Consumer Product Safety Improvement Act of 2008, 122 Stat. 3016 (“Title I—Children’s Product Safety”). But because video games also embody important expressive and artistic elements, I agree with the Court that the First Amendment significantly limits the State’s power to regulate. And I would determine whether the State has exceeded those limits by applying a strict standard of review.

Like the majority, I believe that the California law must be “narrowly tailored” to further a “compelling interest,” without there being a “less restrictive” alternative that would be “at least as effective.” Reno v. American Civil Liberties Union, 521 U.S. 844, 874, 875, 879, 117 S. Ct. 2329, 138 L. Ed. 2d 874 (1997). I would not apply this strict standard “mechanically.” United States v. Playboy Entertainment Group, Inc., 529 U.S. 803, 841, 120 S. Ct. 1878, 146 L. Ed. 2d 865 (2000) (Breyer, J., joined by Rehnquist, C. J., and O’Connor and Scalia, JJ., dissenting). Rather, in applying it, I would evaluate the degree to *750which the statute injures speech-related interests, the nature of the potentially justifying “compelling interests,” the degree to which the statute furthers that interest, the nature and effectiveness of possible alternatives, and, in light of this evaluation, whether, overall, “the statute works speech-related harm .. . out of proportion to the benefits that the statute seeks to provide.” Ibid. See also Burson v. Freeman, 504 U.S. 191, 210, 112 S. Ct. 1846, 119 L. Ed. 2d 5 (1992) (plurality opinion) (applying strict scrutiny and finding relevant the lack of a “significant impingement” on speech).

First Amendment standards applied in this way are difficult but not impossible to satisfy. Applying “strict scrutiny”

[564 U.S. 848]

the Court has upheld restrictions on speech that, for example, ban the teaching of peaceful dispute resolution to a group on the State Department’s list of terrorist organizations, Holder, 561 U.S., at 27-39, 130 S. Ct. 2705, 177 L. Ed. 2d 355; but cf. id., at 41, 130 S. Ct. 2705, 177 L. Ed. 2d 355 (Breyer, J., dissenting), and limit speech near polling places, Burson, supra, at 210-211, 112 S. Ct. 1846, 119 L. Ed. 2d 5 (plurality opinion). And applying less clearly defined but still rigorous standards, the Court has allowed States to require disclosure of petition signers, Doe v. Reed, 561 U.S. 186, 130 S. Ct. 2811, 177 L. Ed. 2d 493 (2010), and to impose campaign contribution limits that were “ ‘closely drawn’ to match a ‘sufficiently important interest,’ ” Nixon v. Shrink Missouri Government PAC, 528 U.S. 377, 387-388, 120 S. Ct. 897, 145 L. Ed. 2d 886 (2000).

Moreover, although the Court did not specify the “level of scrutiny” it applied in Ginsberg, we have subsequently described that case as finding a “compelling interest” in protecting children from harm sufficient to justify limitations on speech. See Sable Communications of Cal., Inc. v. FCC, 492 U.S. 115, 126, 109 S. Ct. 2829, 106 L. Ed. 2d 93 (1989). Since the Court in Ginsberg specified that the statute’s prohibition applied to material that was not obscene, 390 U.S., at 634, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195, I cannot dismiss Ginsberg on the ground that it concerned obscenity. But cf. ante, at 793-794, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 716-717 (majority opinion). Nor need I depend upon the fact that the Court in Ginsberg insisted only that the legislature have a “rational” basis for finding the depictions there at issue harmful to children. 390 U.S., at 639, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195. For in this case, California has substantiated its claim of harm with considerably stronger evidence.

A

California’s law imposes no more than a modest restriction on expression. The statute prevents no one from playing a video game, it prevents no adult from buying a video game, and it prevents no child or adolescent from obtaining a game provided a parent is willing to help. § 1746.1(c). All it prevents is a child or adolescent from buying, without a parent’s assistance, a gruesomely violent video game of a kind that

[564 U.S. 849]

the industry itself tells us it wants to keep out of the hands of those under the age of 17. See Brief for Respondents 8.

Nor is the statute, if upheld, likely to create a precedent that would adversely affect other media, say, films, or videos, or books. A typical video game involves a significant amount of physical activity. See ante, at 817-818, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 731-732 (Alito, J., concurring in judgment) *751(citing examples of the increasing interactivity of video game controllers). And pushing buttons that achieve an interactive, virtual form of target practice (using images of human beings as targets), while containing an expressive component, is not just like watching a typical movie. See infra, at 853, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 752.

B

The interest that California advances in support of the statute is compelling. As this Court has previously described that interest, it consists of both (1) the “basic” parental claim “to authority in their own household to direct the rearing of their children,” which makes it proper to enact “laws designed to aid discharge of [parental] responsibility,” and (2) the State’s “independent interest in the well-being of its youth.” Ginsberg, 390 U.S., at 639-640, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195. Cf. id., at 639, n. 7, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195 (“ ‘[O]ne can well distinguish laws which do not impose a morality on children, but which support the right of parents to deal with the morals of their children as they see fit’ ” (quoting Henkin, Morals and the Constitution: The Sin of Obscenity, 63 Colum. L. Rev. 391, 413, n. 68 (1963))). And where these interests work in tandem, it is not fatally “underinclusive” for a State to advance its interests in protecting children against the special harms present in an interactive video game medium through a default rule that still allows parents to provide their children with what their parents wish.

Both interests are present here. As to the need to help parents guide their children, the Court noted in 1968 that

[564 U.S. 850]

“ ‘parental control or guidance cannot always be provided.’ ” 390 U.S., at 640, 88 S. Ct. 1274, 20 L. Ed. 2d 195. Today, 5.3 million grade-school-age children of working parents are routinely home alone. See Dept, of Commerce, Census Bureau, Who’s Minding the Kids? Child Care Arrangements: Spring 2005/Summer 2006, p. 12 (2010), online at http:// www.census.gov/prod/2010pubs/p70-121.pdf. Thus, it has, if anything, become more important to supplement parents’ authority to guide their children’s development.

As to the State’s independent interest, we have pointed out that juveniles are more likely to show a “ ‘lack of maturity’ ” and are “more vulnerable or susceptible to negative influences and outside pressures,” and that their “character ... is not as well formed as that of an adult.” Roper v. Simmons, 543 U.S. 551, 569-570, 125 S. Ct. 1183, 161 L. Ed. 2d 1 (2005). And we have therefore recognized “a compelling interest in protecting the physical and psychological well-being of minors.” Sable Communications, supra, at 126, 109 S. Ct. 2829, 106 L. Ed. 2d 93.

At the same time, there is considerable evidence that California’s statute significantly furthers this compelling interest. That is, in part, because video games are excellent teaching tools. Learning a practical task often means developing habits, becoming accustomed to performing the task, and receiving positive reinforcement when performing that task well. Video games can help develop habits, accustom the player to performance of the task, and reward the player for performing that task well. Why else would the Armed Forces incorporate video games into its training? See CNN, War Games: Military Training Goes High-Tech (Nov. 22, 2001), on*752line at http://articles.cnn.com/2001-ll-2/tech/2war.games_l_ict-bill-swartout-r eal-world-training?_s=PM:TE C H.

When the military uses video games to help soldiers train for missions, it is using this medium for a beneficial purpose. But California argues that when the teaching features of video games are put to less desirable ends, harm can ensue.

[564 U.S. 851]

In particular, extremely violent games can harm children by rewarding them for being violently aggressive in play, and thereby often teaching them to be violently aggressive in life. And video games can cause more harm in this respect than can typically passive media, such as books or films or television programs.

There are many scientific studies that support California’s views. Social scientists, for example, have found causal evidence that playing these games results in harm. Longitudinal studies, which measure changes over time, have found that increased exposure to violent video games causes an increase in aggression over the same period. See Moller & Krahé, Exposure to Violent Video Games and Aggression in German Adolescents: A Longitudinal Analysis, 35 Aggressive Behavior 75 (2009); Gentile & Gentile, Violent Video Games as Exemplary Teachers: A Conceptual Analysis, 37 J. Youth & Adolescence 127 (2008); Anderson et al., Longitudinal Effects of Violent Video Games on Aggression in Japan and the United States, 122 Pediatrics el067 (2008); Wallenius & Punamki, Digital Game Violence and Direct Aggression in Adolescence: A Longitudinal Study of the Roles of Sex, Age, and Parent-Child Communication, 29 J. Applied Developmental Psychology 286 (2008).

Experimental studies in laboratories have found that subjects randomly assigned to play a violent video game subsequently displayed more characteristics of aggression than those who played nonviolent games. See, e.g., Anderson et al., Violent Video Games: Specific Effects of Violent Content on Aggressive Thoughts and Behavior, 36 Advances in Experimental Soc. Psychology 199 (2004).

Surveys of eighth and ninth grade students have found a correlation between playing violent video games and aggression. See, e.g., Gentile, Lynch, Linder, & Walsh, The Effects of Violent Video Game Habits on Adolescent Hostility, Aggressive Behaviors, and School Performance, 27 J. Adolescence 5 (2004).

[564 U.S. 852]

Cutting-edge neuroscience has shown that “virtual violence in video game playing results in those neural patterns that are considered characteristic for aggressive cognition and behavior.” Weber, Ritterfeld, & Mathiak, Does Playing Violent Video Games Induce Aggression? Empirical Evidence of a Functional Magnetic Resonance Imaging Study, 8 Media Psychology 39, 51 (2006).

And “meta-analyses,” i.e., studies of all the studies, have concluded that exposure to violent video games “was positively associated with aggressive behavior, aggressive cognition, and aggressive affect,” and that “playing violent video games is a causal risk factor for long-term harmful outcomes.” Anderson et al., Violent Video Game Effects on Aggression, Empathy, and Prosocial Behavior in Eastern and Western Countries: A Meta-Analytic Review, 136 Psychological Bull. 151, 167, 169 (2010) (emphasis added).

Some of these studies take care to explain in a common-sense way why *753video games are potentially more harmful than, say, films or books or television. In essence, they say that the closer a child’s behavior comes, not to watching, but to acting out horrific violence, the greater the potential psychological harm. See Bushman & Huesmann, Aggression, in 2 Handbook of Social Psychology 833, 851 (S. Fiske, D. Gilbert, & G. Lindzey eds., 5th ed. 2010) (video games stimulate more aggression because “[p]eople learn better when they are actively involved,” players are “more likely to identify with violent characters,” and “violent games directly reward violent behavior”); Polman, de Castro, & van Aken, Experimental Study of the Differential Effects of Playing Versus Watching Violent Video Games on Children’s Aggressive Behavior, 34 Aggressive Behavior 256 (2008) (finding greater aggression resulting from playing, as opposed to watching, a violent game); C. Anderson, D. Gentile, & K. Buckley, Violent Video Game Effects on Children and Adolescents 136-137 (2007) (three studies finding greater effects from games as opposed to television). See also infra,

[564 U.S. 853]

at 854-855, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 753-754 (statements of expert public health associations agreeing that interactive games can be more harmful than “passive” media like television); ante, at 816-821, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 730-733 (Alito, J., concurring in judgment).

Experts debate the conclusions of all these studies. Like many, perhaps most, studies of human behavior, each study has its critics, and some of those critics have produced studies of their own in which they reach different conclusions. (I list both sets of research in the appendixes.) I, like most judges, lack the social science expertise to say definitively who is right. But associations of public health professionals who do possess that expertise have reviewed many of these studies and found a significant risk that violent video games, when compared with more passive media, are particularly likely to cause children harm.

Eleven years ago, for example, the American Academy of Pediatrics, the American Academy of Child & Adolescent Psychiatry, the American Psychological Association, the American Medical Association, the American Academy of Family Physicians, and the American Psychiatric Association released a joint statement, which said:

“[0]ver 1000 studies . . . point overwhelmingly to a causal connection between media violence and aggressive behavior in some children . . . [and, though less research had been done at that time, preliminary studies indicated that] the impact of violent interactive entertainment (video games and other interactive media) on young people . . . may be significantly more severe than that wrought by television, movies, or music.” Joint Statement on the Impact of Entertainment Violence on Children (2000) (emphasis added), online at http://www.aap.org/ advocacy/releases/jstmtevc.htm.

Five years later, after more research had been done, the American Psychological Association adopted a resolution that said:

[564 U.S. 854]
“[C]omprehensive analysis of violent interactive video game research suggests such exposure . . . increases aggressive behavior, . . . increases aggressive thoughts, . . . increases angry feelings, . . . decreases helpful behavior, and . . . increases physiological arousal.” *754Resolution on Violence in Video Games and Interactive Media (2005), online at http://www.apa. org/about/governance/council/policy/ interactive-media.pdf.

The association added:

“[T]he practice, repetition, and rewards for acts of violence may be more conducive to increasing aggressive behavior among children and youth than passively watching violence on TV and in films.” Ibid. (emphasis added).

Four years after that, in 2009, the American Academy of Pediatrics issued a statement in significant part about interactive media. It said:

“Studies of these rapidly growing and ever-more-sophisticated types of media have indicated that the effects of child-initiated virtual violence may be even more profound than those of passive media such as television. In many games, the child or teenager is ‘embedded’ in the game and uses a ‘joystick’ (handheld controller) that enhances both the experience and the aggressive feelings.” Policy Statement— Media Violence, 124 Pediatrics 1495, 1498 (2009) (emphasis added).

It added:

“Correlational and experimental studies have revealed that violent video games lead to increases in aggressive behavior and aggressive thinking and decreases in prosocial behavior. Recent longitudinal studies ... have revealed that in as little as 3 months, high exposure to violent video games increased physical aggression.
[564 U.S. 855]
Other recent longitudinal studies . . . have revealed similar effects across 2 years.” Ibid, (footnotes omitted).

Unlike the majority, I would find sufficient grounds in these studies and expert opinions for this Court to defer to an elected legislature’s conclusion that the video games in question are particularly likely to harm children. This Court has always thought it owed an elected legislature some degree of deference in respect to legislative facts of this kind, particularly when they involve technical matters that are beyond our competence, and even in First Amendment cases. See Holder, 561 U.S., at 33-34, 130 S. Ct. 2705, 177 L. Ed. 2d 355 (deferring, while applying strict scrutiny, to the Government’s national security judgments); Turner Broadcasting System, Inc. v. FCC, 520 U.S. 180, 195-196, 117 S. Ct. 1174, 137 L. Ed. 2d 369 (1997) (deferring, while applying intermediate scrutiny, to the Government’s technological judgments). The majority, in reaching its own, opposite conclusion about the validity of the relevant studies, grants the legislature no deference at all. Compare ante, at 800, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 720-721 (stating that the studies do not provide evidence that violent video games “cause” harm (emphasis deleted)), with supra, at 851, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 752 (citing longitudinal studies finding causation).

C

I can find no “less restrictive” alternative to California’s law that would be “at least as effective.” See Reno, 521 U.S., at 874, 117 S. Ct. 2329, 138 L. Ed. 2d 874. The majority points to a voluntary alternative: The industry tries to prevent those under 17 from buying extremely violent games by labeling those games with an “M” (Mature) and encouraging retailers to restrict their sales to those 17 and older. See ante, at 803, 180 L. *755Ed. 2d, at 722-723. But this voluntary system has serious enforcement gaps. When California enacted its law, a Federal Trade Commission (FTC) study had found that nearly 70% of unaccompanied 13- to 16-year-olds were able to buy M-rated video games. FTC, Marketing Violent Entertainment to Children 27 (2004), online at http://www.ftc.gov/os/2004/ 07/040708kidsviolencerpt.pdf.

[564 U.S. 856]

Subsequently the voluntary program has become more effective. But as of the FTC’s most recent update to Congress, 20% of those under 17 are still able to buy M-rated video games, and, breaking down sales by store, one finds that this number rises to nearly 50% in the case of one large national chain. FTC, Marketing Violent Entertainment to Children 28 (2009), online at http://www.ftc.gov/os/2009/ 12/P9945 llviolententertainment.pdf. And the industry could easily revert back to the substantial noncompliance that existed in 2004, particularly after today’s broad ruling reduces the industry’s incentive to police itself.

The industry also argues for an alternative technological solution, namely, “[filtering at the console level.” Brief for Respondents 53. But it takes only a quick search of the Internet to find guides explaining how to circumvent any such technological controls. YouTube viewers, for example, have watched one of those guides (called “How to bypass parental controls on the Xbox 360”) more than 47,000 times. See http://www. youtube. com/watch?v=CFlVfVmvN 6k.

IV

The upshot is that California’s statute, as applied to its heartland of applications (i.e., buyers under 17; extremely violent, realistic video games), imposes a restriction on speech that is modest at most. That restriction is justified by a compelling interest (supplementing parents’ efforts to prevent their children from purchasing potentially harmful violent, interactive material). And there is no equally effective, less restrictive alternative. California’s statute is consequently constitutional on its face—though litigants remain free to challenge the statute as applied in particular instances, including any effort by the State to apply it to minors aged 17.

I add that the majority’s different conclusion creates a serious anomaly in First Amendment law. Ginsberg makes

[564 U.S. 857]

clear that a State can prohibit the sale to minors of depictions of nudity; today the Court makes clear that a State cannot prohibit the sale to minors of the most violent interactive video games. But what sense does it make to forbid selling to a 13-year-old boy a magazine with an image of a nude woman, while protecting a sale to that 13-year-old of an interactive video game in which he actively, but virtually, binds and gags the woman, then tortures and kills her? What kind of First Amendment would permit the government to protect children by restricting sales of that extremely violent video game only when the woman—bound, gagged, tortured, and killed—is also topless?

This anomaly is not compelled by the First Amendment. It disappears once one recognizes that extreme violence, where interactive, and without literary, artistic, or similar justification, can prove at least as, if not more, harmful to children as photographs of nudity. And the record here is more than adequate to support such a view. That is why I believe that Ginsberg controls the outcome here a fortiori. *756And it is why I believe California’s law is constitutional on its face.

This case is ultimately less about censorship than it is about education. Our Constitution cannot succeed in securing the liberties it seeks to protect unless we can raise future generations committed cooperatively to making our system of government work. Education, however, is about choices. Sometimes, children need to learn by making choices for themselves. Other times, choices are made for children—by their parents, by their teachers, and by the people acting democratically through their governments. In my view, the First Amendment does not disable government from helping parents make such a choice here—a choice not to have their children buy extremely violent, interactive video games, which they more than reasonably fear pose only the risk of harm to those children.

For these reasons, I respectfully dissent.

[564 U.S. 858]

APPENDIXES

With the assistance of the Supreme Court Library, I have compiled these two appendixes listing peer-reviewed academic journal articles on the topic of psychological harm resulting from playing violent video games. The library conducted a search for relevant articles on the following databases: PsycINFO, PubMed, Academic Search Premier, ArticleFirst (OCLC), and Dialog (files 1, 7, 34, 98, 121, 142, 144, 149). The following search terms were used: “(video* or computer or arcade or online) and (game*) and (attack* or fight* or aggress* or vio-len* or hostil* or ang* or arous* or prosocial or help* or desens* or empathy).” After eliminating irrelevant matches based on title or abstract, I categorized these articles as either supporting the hypothesis that violent video games are harmful (listed in Appendix A), or not supporting/ rejecting the hypothesis that violent video games are harmful (listed in Appendix B).

Many, but not all, of these articles were available to the California Legislature or the parties in briefing this case. I list them because they suggest that there is substantial (though controverted) evidence supporting the expert associations of public health professionals that have concluded that violent video games can cause children psychological harm. See supra, at 853-855, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 753-754. And consequently, these studies help to substantiate the validity of the original judgment of the California Legislature, as well as that judgment’s continuing validity.

A

Anderson & Bushman, Effects of Violent Video Games on Aggressive Behavior, Aggressive Cognition, Aggressive Affect, Physiological Arousal, and Prosocial Behavior: A Meta-Analytic Review of the Scientific Literature, 12 Psychological Science: J. Am. Psychological Society 353 (2001).

Anderson & Dill, Video Games and Aggressive Thoughts, Feelings, and Behavior in the Laboratory and in Life, 78 J. Personality & Soc. Psychology 772 (2000).

[564 U.S. 859]

Anderson et al., Violent Video Games: Specific Effects of Violent Content on Aggressive Thoughts and Behavior, 36 Advances in Experimental Soc. Psychology 199 (2004).

Anderson & Ford, Affect of the Game Player: Short-Term Effects of Highly and Mildly Aggressive Video Games, 12 Personality & Soc. Psychology Bull. 390 (1986).

Anderson & Morrow, Competitive Aggression Without Interaction: Effects of Competitive Versus Cooperative In*757structions on Aggressive Behavior in Video Games, 21 Personality & Soc. Psychology Bull. 1020 (1995).

Anderson et al., Longitudinal Effects of Violent Video Games on Aggression in Japan and the United States, 122 Pediatrics e1067 (2008).

Anderson et al., Violent Video Game Effects on Aggression, Empathy, and Prosocial Behavior in Eastern and Western Countries: A Meta-Analytic Review, 136 Psychological Bull. 151 (2010).

Anderson, An Update on the Effects of Playing Violent Video Games, 27 J. Adolescence 113 (2004).

Anderson et al., The Influence of Media Violence on Youth, 4 Psychological Science in the Public Interest 81 (2003).

Anderson & Carnagey, Causal Effects of Violent Sports Video Games on Aggression: Is It Competitiveness or Violent Content? 45 J. Experimental Soc. Psychology 731 (2009).

Anderson & Murphy, Violent Video Games and Aggressive Behavior in Young Women, 29 Aggressive Behavior 423 (2003).

Arriaga, Esteves, Carneiro, & Monteiro, Violent Computer Games and Their Effects on State Hostility and Physiological Arousal, 32 Aggressive Behavior 146 (2006).

Arriaga, Esteves, Carneiro, & Mon-teiro, Are the Effects of Unreal Violent Video Games Pronounced When Playing With a Virtual Reality System? 34 Aggressive Behavior 521 (2008).

[564 U.S. 860]

Baldaro et al., Aggressive and NonViolent Videogames: Short-Term Psychological and Cardiovascular Effects on Habitual Players, 20 Stress & Health: J. Int’l Society for Investigation of Stress 203 (2004).

Ballard, Hamby, Panee, & Nivens, Repeated Exposure to Video Game Play Results in Decreased Blood Pressure Responding, 8 Media Psychology 323 (2006).

Ballard & Lineberger, Video Game Violence and Confederate Gender: Effects on Reward and Punishment Given by College Males, 41 Sex Roles 541 (1999).

Ballard & Wiest, Mortal Kombat (tm): The Effects of Violent Videogame Play on Males’ Hostility and Cardiovascular Responding, 26 J. Applied Soc. Psychology 717 (1996).

Barlett, Branch, Rodeheffer, & Harris, How Long Do the Short-Term Violent Video Game Effects Last? 35 Aggressive Behavior 225 (2009).

Barlett, Rodeheffer, Baldassaro, Hinkin, & Harris, The Effect of Advances in Video Game Technology and Content on Aggressive Cognitions, Hostility, and Heart Rate, 11 Media Psychology 540 (2008).

Barlett, Harris, & Baldassaro, Longer You Play, the More Hostile You Feel: Examination of First Person Shooter Video Games and Aggression During Video Game Play, 33 Aggressive Behavior 486 (2007).

Barlett, Harris, & Bruey, The Effect of the Amount of Blood in a Violent Video Game on Aggression, Hostility, and Arousal, 44 J. Experimental Soc. Psychology 539 (2008).

Barlett & Rodeheffer, Effects of Realism on Extended Violent and Nonviolent Video Game Play on Aggressive Thoughts, Feelings, and Physiological Arousal, 35 Aggressive Behavior 213 (2009).

*758Barlett, Anderson, & Swing, Video Game Effects—Confirmed, Suspected, and Speculative: A Review of the Evidence, 40 Simulation & Gaming 377 (2009).

Bartholow, Sestir, & Davis, Correlates and Consequences of Exposure to Video Game Violence: Hostile Personality,

[564 U.S. 861]

Empathy, and Aggressive Behavior, 31 Personality & Soc. Psychology Bull. 1573 (2005).

Bartholow & Anderson, Effects of Violent Video Games on Aggressive Behavior: Potential Sex Differences, 38 J. Experimental Soc. Psychology 283 (2002).

Bartholow, Bushman, & Sestir, Chronic Violent Video Game Exposure and Desensitization to Violence: Behavioral and Event-Related Brain Potential Data, 42 J. Experimental Soc. Psychology 532 (2006).

Bluemke, Friedrich, & Zumbach, The Influence of Violent and Nonviolent Computer Games on Implicit Measures of Aggressiveness, 36 Aggressive Behavior 1 (2010).

Brady & Matthews, Effects of Media Violence on Health-Related Outcomes Among Young Men, 160 Archives of Pediatrics & Adolescent Med. 341 (2006).

Browne & Hamilton-Giachritsis, The Influence of Violent Media on Children and Adolescents: A Public-Health Approach, 365 Lancet 702 (2005).

Bushman & Anderson, Violent Video Games and Hostile Expectations: A Test of the General Aggression Model, 28 Personality & Soc. Psychology Bull. 1679 (2002).

Bushman & Anderson, Comfortably Numb: Desensitizing Effects of Violent Media on Helping Others, 20 Psychological Science: J. Am. Psychological Society 273 (2009).

Bushman, Rothstein, & Anderson, Much Ado About Something: Violent Video Game Effects and a School of Red Herring: Reply to Ferguson and Kilburn, 136 Psychological Bull. 182 (2010).

Calvert & Tan, Impact of Virtual Reality on Young Adults’ Physiological Arousal and Aggressive Thoughts: Interaction Versus Observation, 15 J. Applied Developmental Psychology 125 (1994).

Carnagey, Anderson, & Bartholow, Media Violence and Social Neuroscience: New Questions and New Opportunities, 16 Current Directions in Psychological Science 178 (2007).

[564 U.S. 862]

Carnagey & Anderson, Violent Video Game Exposure and Aggression: A Literature Review, 45 Minerva Psichiatrica 1 (2004).

Carnagey & Anderson, The Effects of Reward and Punishment in Violent Video Games on Aggressive Affect, Cognition, and Behavior, 16 Psychological Science: J. Am. Psychological Society 882 (2005).

Carnagey, Anderson, & Bushman, The Effect of Video Game Violence on Physiological Desensitization to Real-Life Violence, 43 J. Experimental Soc. Psychology 489 (2007).

Chambers & Ascione, The Effects of Prosocial and Aggressive Videogames on Children’s Donating and Helping, 148 J. Genetic Psychology: Research and Theory on Human Development 499 (1987).

Chory & Cicchirillo, The Relationship Between Video Game Play and Trait Verbal Aggressiveness: An Applica*759tion of the General Aggression Model, 24 Communication Research Reports 113 (2007).

Cicchirillo & Chory-Assad, Effects of Affective Orientation and Video Game Play on Aggressive Thoughts and Behaviors, 49 J. Broadcasting & Electronic Media 435 (2005).

Colwell & Payne, Negative Correlates of Computer Game Play in Adolescents, 91 British J. Psychology 295 (2000).

Cooper & Mackie, Video Games and Aggression in Children, 16 J. Applied Soc. Psychology 726 (1986).

Deselms & Altman, Immediate and Prolonged Effects of Videogame Violence, 33 J. Applied Soc. Psychology 1553 (2003).

Dill & Dill, Video Game Violence: A Review of the Empirical Literature, 3 Aggression & Violent Behavior 407 (1998).

Dogan, Video Games and Children: Violence in Video Games, 44 Yeni Symposium 161 (2006).

Eastin, Video Game Violence and the Female Game Player: Self- and Opponent Gender Effects on Presence and Aggressive Thoughts, 32 Human Communication Research 351 (2006).

[564 U.S. 863]

Ernes, Is Mr Pac Man Eating Our Children? A Review of the Effect of Video Games on Children, 42 Canadian J. Psychiatry 409 (1997).

Farrar, Krcmar, & Nowak, Contextual Features of Violent Video Games, Mental Models, and Aggression, 56 J. Communication 387 (2006).

Fischer, Kastenmüller, & Greit-emeyer, Media Violence and the Self: The Impact of Personalized Gaming Characters in Aggressive Video Games on Aggressive Behavior, 46 J. Experimental Soc. Psychology 192 (2010).

Funk, Children’s Exposure to Violent Video Games and Desensitization to Violence, 14 Child & Adolescent Psychiatric Clinics North Am. 387 (2005).

Funk, Video Games, 16 Adolescent Med. Clinics 395 (2005).

Funk, Baldacci, Pasold, & Baumgard-ner, Violence Exposure in Real-Life, Video Games, Television, Movies, and the Internet: Is There Desensitization? 27 J. Adolescence 23 (2004).

Funk, Buchman, Jenks, & Bechtoldt, Playing Violent Video Games, Desensitization, and Moral Evaluation in Children, 24 J. Applied Developmental Psychology 413 (2003).

Funk et al., Aggression and Psychopathology in Adolescents With a Preference for Violent Electronic Games, 28 Aggressive Behavior 134 (2002).

Funk, Buchman, Jenks, & Bechtoldt, An Evidence-Based Approach to Examining the Impact of Playing Violent Video and Computer Games, SIMILE: Studies in Media & Information Literacy Educ., vol. 2, no. 4, p. 1 (Nov. 2002).

Gentile & Stone, Violent Video Game Effects on Children and Adolescents: A Review of the Literature, 57 Minerva Pediátrica 337 (2005).

Gentile et al., The Effects of Prosocial Video Games on Prosocial Behaviors: International Evidence From Correla-tional, Longitudinal, and Experimental Studies, 35 Personality & Soc. Psychology Bull. 752 (2009).

[564 U.S. 864]

Gentile, Lynch, Linder, & Walsh, The Effects of Violent Video Game Habits on Adolescent Hostility, Aggressive Behaviors, and School Performance, 27 J. Adolescence 5 (2004).

*760Gentile & Gentile, Violent Video Games as Exemplary Teachers: A Conceptual Analysis, 37 J. Youth & Adolescence 127 (2008).

Giumetti & Markey, Violent Video Games and Anger as Predictors of Aggression, 41 J. Research in Personality 1234 (2007).

Graybill, Kirsch, & Esselman, Effects of Playing Violent Versus Nonviolent Video Games on the Aggressive Ide-ation of Aggressive and Nonaggres-sive Children, 15 Child Study J. 199 (1985).

Grigoryan, Stepanyan, Stepanyan, & Agababyan, Influence of Aggressive Computer Games on the Brain Cortex Activity Level in Adolescents, 33 Human Physiology 34 (2007).

Hastings et al., Young Children’s Video/Computer Game Use: Relations With School Performance and Behavior, 30 Issues in Mental Health Nursing 638 (2009).

Huesmann, Nailing the Coffin Shut on Doubts That Violent Video Games Stimulate Aggression: Comment on Anderson et al., 136 Psychological Bull. 179 (2010).

Huesmann, The Impact of Electronic Media Violence: Scientific Theory and Research, 41 J. Adolescent Health S6 (2007).

Huesmann & Taylor, The Role of Media Violence in Violent Behavior, 27 Annual Rev. Public Health 393 (2006).

Hummer et al., Short-Term Violent Video Game Play by Adolescents Alters Prefrontal Activity During Cognitive Inhibition, 13 Media Psychology 136 (2010).

Irwin & Gross, Cognitive Tempo, Violent Video Games, and Aggressive Behavior in Young Boys, 10 J. Family Violence 337 (1995).

[564 U.S. 865]

Kirsh & Mounts, Violent Video Game Play Impacts Facial Emotion Recognition, 33 Aggressive Behavior 353 (2007).

Kirsh, Mounts, & Olczak, Violent Media Consumption and the Recognition of Dynamic Facial Expressions, 21 J. Interpersonal Violence 571 (2006).

Kirsh, Olczak, & Mounts, Violent Video Games Induce an Affect Processing Bias, 7 Media Psychology 239 (2005).

Kirsh, The Effects of Violent Video Games on Adolescents: The Overlooked Influence of Development, 8 Aggression & Violent Behavior 377 (2003).

Kirsh, Seeing the World Through Mortal Kombat-Colored Glasses: Violent Video Games and the Development of a Short-term Hostile Attribution Bias, 5 Childhood 177 (1998).

Konijn, Bijvank, & Bushman, I Wish I Were a Warrior: The Role of Wishful Identification in the Effects of Violent Video Games on Aggression in Adolescent Boys, 43 Developmental Psychology 1038 (2007).

Krahé & Moller, Playing Violent Electronic Games, Hostile Attributional Style, and Aggression-Related Norms in German Adolescents, 27 J. Adolescence 53 (2004).

Krcmar, Farrar, & McGloin, The Effects of Video Game Realism on Attention, Retention and Aggressive Outcomes, 27 Computers in Human Behavior 432 (2011).

Krcmar & Lachlan, Aggressive Outcomes and Videogame Play: The Role of Length of Play and the Mechanisms at Work, 12 Media Psychology 249 (2009).

*761Krcmar & Farrar, Retaliatory Aggression and the Effects of Point of View and Blood in Violent Video Games, 12 Mass Communication & Society 115 (2009).

Kronenberger et al., Media Violence Exposure in Aggressive and Control Adolescents: Differences in Self- and Parent-Reported Exposure to Violence on Television and in Video Games, 31 Aggressive Behavior 201 (2005).

[564 U.S. 866]

Kronenberger et al., Media Violence Exposure and Executive Functioning in Aggressive and Control Adolescents, 61 J. Clinical Psychology 725 (2005).

Kuntsche, Hostility Among Adolescents in Switzerland? Multivariate Relations Between Excessive Media Use and Forms of Violence, 34 J. Adolescent Health 230 (2004).

Lee, Peng, & Klein, Will the Experience of Playing a Violent Role in a Video Game Influence People’s Judgments of Violent Crimes? 26 Computers in Human Behavior 1019 (2010).

Lemmens & Bushman, The Appeal of Violent Video Games to Lower Educated Aggressive Adolescent Boys From Two Countries, 9 CyberPsychol-ogy & Behavior 638 (2006).

Mathiak & Weber, Toward Brain Correlates of Natural Behavior: fMRI During Violent Video Games, 27 Human Brain Mapping 948 (2006).

Moller & Krahé, Exposure to Violent Video Games and Aggression in German Adolescents: A Longitudinal Analysis, 35 Aggressive Behavior 75 (2009).

Nowak, Krcmar, & Farrar, The Causes and Consequences of Presence: Considering the Influence of Violent Video Games on Presence and Aggression, 17 Presence: Teleopera-tors & Virtual Environments 256 (2008).

Olson et al., M-Rated Video Games and Aggressive or Problem Behavior Among Young Adolescents, 13 Applied Developmental Science 188 (2009).

Panee & Ballard, High Versus Low Aggressive Priming During Video-Game Training: Effects on Violent Action During Game Play, Hostility, Heart Rate, and Blood Pressure, 32 J. Applied Soc. Psychology 2458 (2002).

Persky & Blascovich, Immersive Virtual Environments Versus Traditional Platforms: Effects of Violent and Nonviolent Video Game Play, 10 Media Psychology 135 (2007).

Persky & Blascovich, Immersive Virtual Video Game Play and Presence: Influences on Aggressive Feelings and Behavior,

[564 U.S. 867]

17 Presence: Teleoperators & Virtual Environments 57 (2008).

Polman, de Castro, & van Aken, Experimental Study of the Differential Effects of Playing Versus Watching Violent Video Games on Children’s Aggressive Behavior, 34 Aggressive Behavior 256 (2008).

Potera, Sex and Violence in the Media Influence Teen Behavior: Three Studies Show a Correlation, 109 American J. Nursing 20 (2009).

Richmond & Wilson, Are Graphic Media Violence, Aggression, and Moral Disengagement Related? 15 Psychiatry, Psychology & Law 350 (2008).

Schaefer & Harrison, The Effects of Violent Fantasy on Children’s Aggressive Behavior, 41 Psychology & Educ. 35 (2004).

Schmierbach, “Killing Spree”: Exploring the Connection Between Competi*762tive Game Play and Aggressive Cognition, 37 Communication Research 256 (2010).

Sheese & Graziano, Deciding To Defect: The Effects of Video-Game Violence on Cooperative Behavior, 16 Psychological Science: J. Am. Psychological Society 354 (2005).

Sherry, The Effects of Violent Video Games on Aggression. A Meta-Analysis, 27 Human Communication Research 409 (2001).

Shibuya, Sakamoto, Ihori, & Yukawa, The Effects of the Presence and Contexts of Video Game Violence on Children: A Longitudinal Study in Japan, 39 Simulation & Gaming 528 (2008).

Sigurdsson, Gudjonsson, Bragason, Kristjansdottir, & Sigfusdottir, The Role of Violent Cognition in the Relationship Between Personality and the Involvement in Violent Films and Computer Games, 41 Personality & Individual Differences 381 (2006).

Silvern & Williamson, The Effects of Video Game Play on Young Children’s Aggression, Fantasy, and Prosocial Behavior, 8 J. Applied Developmental Psychology 453 (1987).

[564 U.S. 868]

Slater, Henry, Swaim, & Cardador, Vulnerable Teens, Vulnerable Times: How Sensation Seeking, Alienation, and Victimization Moderate the Violent Media Content—Aggressiveness Relation, 31 Communication Research 642 (2004).

Slater, Henry, Swaim, & Anderson, Violent Media Content and Aggressiveness in Adolescents: A Downward Spiral Model, 30 Communication Research 713 (2003).

Staude-Müller, Bliesener, & Luth-man, Hostile and Hardened? An Experimental Study on (De-Sensiti-zation to Violence and Suffering Through Playing Video Games, 67 Swiss J. Psychology 41 (2008).

Steward & Follina, Informing Policies in Forensic Settings: A Review of Research Investigating the Effects of Exposure to Media Violence on Challenging/Offending Behaviour, 8 British J. Forensic Prac. 31 (2006).

Swing & Anderson, The Unintended Negative Consequences of Exposure to Violent Video Games, 12 Int. J. Cognitive Tech. 3 (2007).

Tamborini et al., Violent Virtual Video Games and Hostile Thoughts, 48 J. Broadcasting & Electronic Media 335 (2004).

Uhlmann & Swanson, Exposure to Violent Video Games Increases Automatic Aggressiveness, 27 J. Adolescence 41 (2004).

Vaughan, Inadvertent Script Change and Increased Propensity for Violence: The Danger of Interactive Video Games, 34 Transactional Analysis J. 30 (2004).

Wallenius & Punamáki, Digital Game Violence and Direct Aggression in Adolescence: A Longitudinal Study of the Roles of Sex, Age, and Parent-Child Communication, 29 J. Applied Developmental Psychology 286 (2008).

Wallenius, Punamáki, & Rimpelá, Digital Game Playing and Direct and Indirect Aggression in Early Adolescence: The Roles of Age, Social Intelligence, and Parent-Child Communication, 36 J. Youth & Adolescence 325 (2007).

[564 U.S. 869]

Wang et al., Short Term Exposure to a Violent Video Game Induces Changes in Frontolimbic Circuitry in Adolescents, 3 Brain Imaging & Behavior 38 (2009).

*763Weber, Ritterfeld, & Mathiak, Does Playing Violent Video Games Induce Aggression? Empirical Evidence of a Functional Magnetic Resonance Imaging Study, 8 Media Psychology 39 (2006).

Wiegman & van Schie, Video Game Playing and Its Relations With Aggressive and Prosocial Behaviour, 37 British J. Soc. Psychology 367 (1998).

Williams, The Effects of Frustration, Violence, and Trait Hostility After Playing a Video Game, 12 Mass Communication & Society 291 (2009).

Ybarra et al., Linkages Between Internet and Other Media Violence With Seriously Violent Behavior by Youth, 122 Pediatrics 929 (2008).

B

Bensley & Van Eenwyk, Video Games and Real-Life Aggression: Review of the Literature, 29 J. Adolescent Health 244 (2001).

Bosche, Violent Content Enhances Video Game Performance, 21 J. Media Psychology: Theories, Methods, and Applications 145 (2009).

Colwell & Kato, Video Game Play in British and Japanese Adolescents, 36 Simulation & Gaming 518 (2005).

Colwell & Kato, Investigation of the Relationship Between Social Isolation, Self-Esteem, Aggression and Computer Game Play in Japanese Adolescents, 6 Asian J. Soc. Psychology 149 (2003).

Dominick, Videogames, Television Violence, and Aggression in Teenagers, 34 J. Communication 136 (1984).

Ferguson, Blazing Angels or Resident Evil? Can Violent Video Games Be a Force for Good? 14 Rev. Gen. Psychology 68 (2010).

Ferguson, Violent Video Games: Dogma, Fear, and Pseudoscience, 33 Skeptical Inquirer 38 (2009).

[564 U.S. 870]

Ferguson, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly: A Meta-Analytic Review of Positive and Negative Effects of Violent Video Games, 78 Psychiatric Q. 309 (2007).

Ferguson & Meehan, Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting: Antisocial Traits, Fighting, and Weapons Carrying in a Large Sample of Youth, 81 Psychiatric Q. 293 (2010).

Ferguson et al., Violent Video Games and Aggression, 35 Crim. Justice & Behavior 311 (2008).

Ferguson, Research on the Effects of Violent Video Games: A Critical Analysis, 3 Soc. & Personality Psychology Compass 351 (2009).

Ferguson & Rueda, The Hitman Study: Violent Video Game Exposure Effects on Aggressive Behavior, Hostile Feelings, and Depression, 15 European Psychologist 99 (2010).

Ferguson, San Miguel, & Hartley, A Multivariate Analysis of Youth Violence and Aggression: The Influence of Family, Peers, Depression, and Media Violence, 155 J. Pediatrics 904 (2009).

Ferguson, Evidence for Publication Bias in Video Game Violence Effects Literature: A Meta-Analytic Review, 12 Aggression & Violent Behavior 470 (2007).

Ferguson, The School Shooting/ Violent Video Game Link: Causal Relationship or Moral Panic? 5 J. Investigative Psychology & Offender Profiling 25 (2008).

Ferguson et al., Personality, Parental, and Media Influences on Aggressive Personality and Violent Crime in *764Young Adults, 17 J. Aggression, Maltreatment & Trauma 395 (2008).

Ferguson & Kilburn, Much Ado About Nothing: The Misestimation and Overinterpretation of Violent Video Game Effects in Eastern and Western Nations: Comment on Anderson et al. (2010), 136 Psychological Bull. 174 (2010).

Fleming & Rickwood, Effects of Violent Versus Nonviolent Video Games on Children’s Arousal, Aggressive Mood, and Positive Mood, 31 J. Applied Soc. Psychology 2047 (2001).

[564 U.S. 871]

Griffiths, Violent Video Games and Aggression: A Review of the Literature, 4 Aggression & Violent Behavior 203 (1999).

Griffiths, Video Games and Aggression, 10 The Psychologist 397 (1997).

Ivory & Kalyanaraman, The Effects of Technological Advancement and Violent Content in Video Games on Players’ Feelings of Presence, Involvement, Physiological Arousal, and Aggression, 57 J. Communication 532 (2007).

Kestenbaum & Weinstein, Personality, Psychopathology, and Developmental Issues in Male Adolescent Video Game Use, 24 J. Am. Academy Child Psychiatry 329 (1985).

Markey & Markey, Vulnerability to Violent Video Games: A Review and Integration of Personality Research, 14 Rev. Gen. Psychology 82 (2010).

Markey & Scherer, An Examination of Psychoticism and Motion Capture Controls as Moderators of the Effects of Violent Video Games, 25 Computers in Human Behavior 407 (2009).

Mitrofan, Paul, & Spencer, Is Aggression in Children With Behavioural and Emotional Difficulties Associated With Television Viewing and Video Game Playing? A Systematic Review, 35 Child: Care, Health & Development 5 (2009).

Olson, Media Violence Research and Youth Violence Data: Why Do They Conflict? 28 Academic Psychiatry 144 (2004).

Porter & Starcevic, Are Violent Video Games Harmful? 15 Australasian Psychiatry 422 (2007).

Regenbogen, Herrmann, & Fehr, The Neural Processing of Voluntary Completed, Real and Virtual Violent and NonViolent Computer Game Scenarios Displaying Predefined Actions in Gamers and Nongamers, 5 Soc. Neuroscience 221 (2010).

Scott, The Effect of Video Games on Feelings of Aggression, 129 J. Psychology 121 (1995).

[564 U.S. 872]

Sestir & Bartholow, Violent and Nonviolent Video Games Produce Opposing Effects on Aggressive and Proso-cial Outcomes, 46 J. Experimental Soc. Psychology 934 (2010).

Unsworth, Devilly, & Ward, The Effect of Playing Violent Video Games on Adolescents: Should Parents Be Quaking in Their Boots? 13 Psychology, Crime & Law 383 (2007).

Unsworth & Ward, Video Games and Aggressive Behaviour, 36 Australian Psychologist 184 (2001).

Williams & Skoric, Internet Fantasy Violence: A Test of Aggression in an Online Game, 72 Communication Monographs 217 (2005).

Winkel, Novak, & Hopson, Personality Factors, Subject Gender, and the Effects of Aggressive Video Games on Aggression in Adolescents, 21 J. Research in Personality 211 (1987).