“A Revival Of 20th Century Lochner”: The Roberts Court Thinks Corporations Have More Rights Than You Do
The Supreme Court of the mid-twentieth century led a First Amendment revolution, turning a rarely enforced constitutional provision into the crown jewel of our Bill of Rights. While these rulings protected the speech of all Americans, they most frequently came in cases involving disfavored or even despised litigants, from Jehovah’s Witnesses to Nazi sympathizers. The Roberts Court is leading a free speech revolution of its own, but this time for the benefit of corporations and the wealthy.
This revolution is unfolding across a wide range of First Amendment provisions and doctrines, from Citizens United v. FEC, which protects political speech by corporations to Sorrell v. IMS, which makes it easier for corporations to challenge laws that regulate commercial speech. Today’s bitterly divided rulings in Burwell v. Hobby Lobby and Harris v. Quinn continue this trend by turning the First Amendment’s protection for the free exercise of religion and freedom of association into a sword to free corporations and other powerful interests from government regulation. More than the Court’s earlier First Amendment revolution, this series of deeply divided rulings resembles the aggressive, divisive, and now overturned rulings of the Lochner era, named after the infamous 1905 case Lochner v. New York, one of a number of cases in which the Supreme Court of the early twentieth century that struck down laws designed to prevent the exploitation of workers. During this era, the Supreme Court repeatedly expanded the constitutional rights of corporations and other businesses while dismissively treating the government’s interest in economic regulation. Today, we are seeing a revival of Lochner in the name of protecting free speech and free exercise of religion.
This story, of course, begins in earnest with the 2010 ruling in Citizens United v. FEC, the case that, perhaps more than any other, defines the Roberts Court. There the Court’s five conservatives united to hold that the Constitution gives corporations the right to spend unlimited sums of money on elections. Corporations cannot vote in elections, run for office, or serve as elected officials, but the Court nevertheless ruled that they can overwhelm the political process by using money generated by special privileges that corporations alone possess. In 2011, the Court continued this corporate-friendly trend in Sorrell v. IMS, holding that forms of market research, such as data mining, are “speech” protected by the First Amendment.
This term, Chief Justice Roberts has opened new fronts in his First Amendment revolution. Prior to 2014, the Supreme Court had never held that a secular, for-profit corporation is entitled to protections for the free exercise of religion and had never struck down a federal law limiting campaign contributions. This year, the conservative Justices did both. In both cases, the Court’s conservative majority built off of Citizens United. In Hobby Lobby, in an opinion written by Justice Samuel Alito, the Court held that closely-held, secular, for-profit corporations were entitled to the guarantee of the free exercise of religion, treating corporations simply as the artificial embodiment of its owner or shareholders. Dismissing the fact that corporations cannot pray and have never, in more than two centuries, been conferred with rights of conscience and human dignity, the Court’s conservative bloc concluded that secular for-profit corporations are entitled to a religious exemption from the Affordable Care Act’s requirement that employer-sponsored health insurance plans cover the full range of FDA-approved contraceptives. The Court’s opinion—the first in history to require a religious exemption from generally-applicable regulation be given to a commercial enterprise—exalts the rights of corporations over those of individuals, giving corporations the right to impose their owners’ religious beliefs and extinguish the rights of their employees. As Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg detailed in a powerful dissenting opinion, the majority abandoned constitutional principles and precedent and empowered commercial enterprises to “deny legions of women who do not hold their employees’ beliefs access to contraceptive coverage.”
While framed as a narrow minimalist ruling, Justice Alito’s opinion in Hobby Lobby is anything but. First, its central holding strongly suggests that all corporations—not merely those like Hobby Lobby that are closely-held—are entitled to demand religious exemptions from generally-applicable business regulation. Second, its reasoning invites an avalanche of new claims by corporations and others for religious exemptions, making it very difficult for the government to defeat claims for religious exemptions, even when those exemptions extinguish the rights of employees. The Court’s opinion, as Justice Ginsburg explained, opens the floodgates for a number of “me too” religious objections by other companies on matters ranging from anti-discrimination law to other medical procedures such as blood transfusions or vaccinations.
Earlier this term, in McCutcheon v. FEC, the Court’s conservatives continued their assault on the nation’s campaign finance laws, striking down the federal aggregate limit that permitted individuals to contribute up to $123,000 to candidates per election cycle and opening the floodgates to the wealthiest Americans to contribute millions of dollars at a time to elect candidates to do their bidding. As in Citizens United, the conservative majority turned a blind eye both to constitutional principle and reality, treating the $123,000 contribution limit as an especially severe burden on freedom of speech and artificially limiting the government interest in ensuring electoral integrity to cases of bribery. To the Founders, preventing corruption of the government was at the core of the Constitution, necessary to ensure, as Madison put it, that government was “dependent on the people alone” and that our system of representative democracy remained “not [for] the rich more than the poor.” Rather than grappling with the government’s authority to ensure electoral integrity—an interest deeply rooted in the Constitution’s text and history—Chief Justice Roberts caricatured it. While campaign contribution limits still remain, it seems only a matter of time before those too are invalidated by the Roberts’ conservative majority.
Harris, too, represented a fundamental reinterpretation of the First Amendment, striking down an Illinois law that allowed public-sector unions for home health care workers to collect fees from non-union workers to cover the costs of a union’s bargaining activities. In doing so, Justice Alito dismissed a long line of precedents going back nearly 40 years that had upheld precisely these kinds of arrangements, dealing a serious blow to organized labor. In past cases, the Roberts Court has upheld government regulation of employee speech, giving the government broad leeway in choosing how to run a workplace. But, in a stark about face, Justice Samuel Alito’s opinion ratcheted up the First Amendment rights of anti-union employees, powerfully illustrating Adam Liptak’s observation that in the Roberts Court, “[f]ree speech often means speech I agree with.” In a blistering dissent, Justice Elena Kagan argued that the Court’s conservative majority was perverting established First Amendment law, effectively creating a special set of First Amendment principles only for union fee cases.
Justice Alito’s opinion in Harris invites anti-union activists to file a host of new lawsuits aimed at state laws that allow public-sector unions to collect the costs of collective bargaining from union and non-union member alike. Indeed, much of the Harris opinion is devoted to showing why the past precedent in this area is wrong and ought to be overruled. These precedents survive, if at all, by a thread.
Chief Justice John Roberts is known for playing the long game, issuing decisions that, quietly but decisively, move the law to the right. His greatest successes in this area have come in campaign finance cases, where in just a decade, the Court’s opinions have decimated campaign finance law. Today’s decisions in Hobby Lobby and Harris open new avenues for corporate interests looking to attack regulation, and in years to come we are certain to see a host of new challenges to business regulation, all in the name of free speech or free exercise. In the Roberts Court, the First Amendment is a powerful weapon, not for the street corner speaker, but for corporations and wealthy seeking to squelch regulation.
By: David H. Gans, Director of the Human Rights, Civil Rights, and Citizenship Program at Constitutional Accountability Center; The New Republic, July 1, 2014
“What’s Next?”: Yes, Some Corporations Can Pray — And You’ll All Pay
In its decision Monday in the Hobby Lobby case, the conservative Supreme Court majority that upheld corporations’ religious objections to birth control spends an inordinate amount of time defending itself from the reasoning and wrath of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s dissent.
Justice Samuel Alito, whose name is on the decision, alludes no fewer than 24 times to the “principal dissent,” which Ginsburg wrote for the four-member minority. Plainly, he felt Ginsburg’s powerful intellect breathing down his neck as he tried to find a path to upholding the Hobby Lobby parties’ attack on women’s rights without expanding corporate “personhood” too much.
He failed. Ginsburg concisely labels Alito’s ruling one of “startling breadth,” pointing out all the doors it opens to religious claims by business owners trumping the rights of their employees. She also observes that the majority’s answer to allowing business owners to opt out of covering their employees’ legitimate health needs is that “the general public can pick up the tab.”
In other words, the decision gives business owners the right to weasel out of their legal obligations by sticking you and me with the bill.
The Hobby Lobby case, as we reported earlier, has been percolating for months as yet another corporate challenge to the Affordable Care Act. It was brought originally on behalf of the pious owners of that privately held crafts chain, along with other private businesses. They asserted that their religious convictions were trampled by the Affordable Care Act’s mandate that medium and large employers cover contraceptives for their female employees without cost sharing—that is, without co-pays and deductibles.
The businesses pointed to a 1993 federal law, the Religious Freedom Restoration Act, which prohibits the government from imposing a “substantial burden” on a person’s exercise of religion, even in a generally enforced law. The court majority ruled that the law effectively pre-empts the contraceptive mandate in the ACA.
Eric Posner of the University of Chicago law school contends that, to the extent the majority relied on the RFRA, “Alito’s legal argument is stronger than Ginsburg’s.” But the law itself, he says, “is pretty dumb.”
Alito maintains that his decision is narrow, applying only to contraceptives, and only to “closely-held” companies — that is, not to publicly traded corporations.
Ginsburg doesn’t buy it. She asks how the ruling can be differentiated from those in which business owners pose religious objections to granting insurance coverage for “blood transfusions (Jehovah’s Witnesses); antidepressants (Scientologists); medications derived from pigs, including anesthesia … and pills coated with gelatin (certain Muslims, Jews and Hindus); and vaccinations (Christian Scientists, among others).” She concludes, “the court … has ventured into a minefield.”
Indeed, Alito himself acknowledges that “other coverage requirements, such as immunizations … may involve different arguments about the least restrictive means of providing them” — that is, exempting the employer, and letting government step in.
To a great extent, the decision turns on whether a business is a “person.” This is the same minefield the court seeded in its infamous Citizens United case in 2010, when it held that campaign finance laws limiting corporate contributions violated corporations’ free-speech rights. The detonation of those mines has laid waste to the electoral process, turning it into a playground for corporate interests. (More of a playground, anyway.)
Here the court’s majority rules that a privately held company is, in effect, a “person” that can express religious convictions. Alito sugarcoats that finding, acknowledging that corporate personhood is a “fiction,” but one designed to “provide protection for human beings.”
Ginsburg also picks that assertion clean. “The exercise of religion is characteristic of natural persons, not artificial legal entities,” she writes, quoting retired Justice John Paul Stevens as having observed in the Citizens United case that corporations “have no consciences, no beliefs, no feelings, no thoughts, no desires.”
Today’s decision invests them with all the consciences, beliefs, thoughts, and desires of characters from Tolstoy. And that’s a lot.
Alito and Justice Anthony Kennedy, in a separate concurrence, argue that the federal government has already offered an accommodation to nonprofit organizations that object to the contraception mandate — they can cede the responsibility for the coverage to their insurers, who cover their own expenses via a rebate on a federal tax. They ask: Why not extend that break to closely held companies?
(That’s how the general public would end up subsidizing the religious discrimination practiced by Hobby Lobby’s owners.)
What Kennedy and Alito seem to miss is that those nonprofit groups didn’t gain the exemption because they were nonprofit, but because their exclusive purpose was religious, not commercial. “The court forgets that religious organizations exist to serve a community of believers,” Ginsburg writes. “For-profit corporations do not fit that bill.”
It will be said that Monday’s decision walked a fine line, giving the Hobby Lobby owners what they sought without opening the floodgates to religious objections to a wide range of laws and regulations.
The court has signaled that it’s open as never before to claims by private businesses for exemptions from laws that apply to the rest of us, based on religious beliefs that can’t be objectively verified. And if they win, we’ll pay. Ginsburg’s question is apt: What’s next?
By: Michael Hiltzik, Columnist, The Los Angeles Times: Published in The National Memo, June 30, 2014
“Race And The Supreme Court”: Furthuring The Racial Divide In Our Two Americas
When the United States Supreme Court upheld Michigan’s ban on affirmative action in higher education Tuesday, the justices weren’t just endorsing similar bans in seven other states and inviting future ones. They were, fundamentally, continuing a painful conversation among themselves, and between themselves and the rest of us, on the topic of race in America.
It is a conversation that has been ongoing in its present iteration since the Court’s ideological core shifted to the right almost a decade ago, following the resignation of Justice Sandra Day O’Connor in July 2005. She was replaced by a far more conservative jurist, Justice Samuel Alito, the Court’s center of gravity then shifted from Justice O’Connor to the more conservative Justice Anthony Kennedy, and the ascent of Chief Justice John Roberts, who replaced his friend and mentor Chief Justice William Rehnquist, made the Court’s transition complete.
And it’s a conversation that, judging from the past few related decisions, isn’t bridging the racial divide in this country but rather splintering it further apart. The Court’s ruling in Schuette v. Coalition to Defend would not have happened 10 years ago. We know this because Justice O’Connor herself, in Grutter v. Bollinger, another case out of Michigan, crafted a 5-4 ruling that gave such remedial programs another shaky decade of life. But now they are as good as dead and, as Justice John Paul Stevens said in another context, the Court’s majority didn’t even have the courtesy to give them a proper burial.
Instead, they will be killed over time by what Justice Anthony Kennedy labeled as the procedural necessity of allowing state voters to impose their will upon minorities. We aren’t ruling on the merits of affirmative action, the justice wrote, instead we are merely allowing the voters of Michigan to render their own judgment about affirmative action. And even though that action commands university administrators not to consider race as a factor in admissions, and even though everyone understands that the Michigan measure was passed to preclude what supporters called “racial preferences,” this democratic choice somehow does not offend equal protection principles under the Constitution.
Also unthinkable before the Roberts Court kicked into gear would have been its Court’s decision last June in Shelby County v. Holder to strike down the preclearance provision of the Voting Rights Act. And it would be a mistake today not to connect that ruling to the one in Schuette. They are different sides of the same coin. Shelby County told white politicians in the South that they could now more freely change voting rules to make it harder for minorities to vote. Tuesday’s decision tells white voters that they can move via the ballot box to restrict remedies designed to help minority students and, by extension, communities of color. In each case, the Court sought to somehow extract race out of racial problems.
In Shelby County, the Court’s majority refused to acknowledge the will of the people as expressed through Congress, which repeatedly had renewed Section 4 of the Voting Rights Act with large bipartisan majorities. Yet in Schuette, the Court’s majority rushed to embrace the will of the people of Michigan as expressed in their rejection of affirmative action. Contradiction? Sure. But what these cases have in common is clear: this Court is hostile to the idea that the nation’s racial problems are going to be resolved by policies and programs that treat the races differently. This is what the Chief Justice means when he says, as he did in 2007, that “the way to stop discriminating on the basis of race is to stop discrimination on the basis of race.”
In a perfect world– a post-racial world, you might say—the Chief Justice would be absolutely correct. But the problem with his formula is that he seeks to declare it at a time when there is still in this country widespread discrimination, official and otherwise, based upon race. It is present in our criminal justice systems. It is present still in our election systems. It is present economically and politically even though, as conservatives like the Chief Justice like to point out, far more minorities participate in the political process then did half a century ago. And so the idea that now is the time to stop reflecting this reality in constitutional doctrine is to me a dubious one. “Enough is enough,” the essence of Justice Antonin Scalia’s argument, is neither a solution nor a just way in which to end the experiment in racial justice we’ve experienced in America for the past 50 years. Enough may be enough for white Americans. But it’s not nearly enough for citizens of color.
And this surely is what Justice Sotomayor had in mind when she wrote her dissent in Schuette. What is the role of the federal judiciary if not to protect the rights of minorities against the tyranny of majority rule?
The way to stop discrimination on the basis of race is to speak openly and candidly on the subject of race, and to apply the Constitution with eyes open to the unfortunate effects of centuries of racial discrimination. As members of the judiciary tasked with intervening to carry out the guarantee of equal protection, we ought not sit back and wish away, rather than confront, the racial inequality that exists in our society. It is this view that works harm, by perpetuating the facile notion that what makes race matter is acknowledging the simple truth that race does matter.
This is the language that future historians will cite when they cite this cynical decision and this troubling era in America’s racial history. What’s the best evidence that the Supreme Court has it all wrong? Just consider how the two Americas, the two solitudes, reacted to the news of Schuette. The Chief Justice, in his short and defensive concurrence, accused Justice Sotomayor of “doing more harm than good to question the openness and candor of those on either side of the debate.” But to Justice Sotomayor, and to those who share her view, there is no debate. It’s already over. And the side that usually wins in America clearly has won again.
By: Andrew Cohen, Fellow, The Brennan Center For Justice at New York University School of Law; April 23, 2014
“Ignoring Precedent And Denying Reality”: The Court Stacks The Deck Against Minorities
Affirmative action has opened doors for disadvantaged minorities and made this a fairer, more equal society. The Supreme Court under Chief Justice John Roberts apparently wants no more of that.
This week’s big ruling — upholding a Michigan constitutional amendment that bans public universities from considering race in admissions — claims to leave affirmative action alive, if on life support. But the court’s opinion, ignoring precedent and denying reality, can be read only as an invitation for other states to follow suit.
Justice Sonia Sotomayor’s thundering dissent should be required reading. She sees what the court is doing and isn’t afraid to call out her colleagues on the disingenuous claim that the ruling in Schuette v. Coalition to Defend Affirmative Action is limited in scope. It has implications that go beyond college admissions to other areas, such as voting rights, where majorities seek to trample minority rights.
By “rights,” I mean not affirmative action but the principle, upheld repeatedly by the court, that the political process should be a level playing field. In Michigan, with the high court’s blessing, anyone who wants to advocate for affirmative action is at a disadvantage. Instead of banning the policy outright — which would at least be honest — the court paints it with a bull’s-eye and strips it of defenses.
The case involves the University of Michigan — my alma mater, by the way — which has spent nearly two decades trying to defend taking race into account, as one of many factors, in deciding admissions.
The university is governed by an elected board of regents, some of whose members have campaigned on their views for or against affirmative action. Opponents of what they call “racial preferences” tried but failed to elect enough like-minded regents to end the practice, so they proposed an amendment to the state constitution that says Michigan’s public universities “shall not discriminate against, or grant preferential treatment to, any individual or group on the basis of race, sex, color, ethnicity, or national origin.” Voters approved the measure in 2006 by a wide margin.
This may sound reasonable, even admirable, but here’s the problem: With the amendment, voters changed the political process in a way that unfairly burdens racial minorities.
There was, after all, an existing process for influencing the university’s admissions policies. You could lobby the regents. You could run ads to pressure the board. You could campaign for board candidates who shared your views. You could run to become a regent yourself.
You can still do any of these things if you want to influence the university’s admissions policies in any other way — if you want, say, more places reserved for “legacy” applicants who are the sons and daughters of alumni. But if you want to influence the board in favor of race-sensitive admissions, you have only one option: an onerous, expensive and almost surely futile attempt to amend the state constitution yet again.
As Sotomayor wrote , “The effect . . . is that a white graduate of a public Michigan university who wishes to pass his historical privilege on to his children may freely lobby the board of that university in favor of an expanded legacy admissions policy, whereas a black Michigander who was denied the opportunity to attend that very university cannot lobby the board in favor of a policy that might give his children a chance that he never had.”
If stacking the deck in this manner is acceptable in university admissions, why not in voting rights? Sotomayor’s dissent recounted the long history of attempts by majorities to change the political process in order to deny racial and ethnic minorities the chance to achieve their goals. The court has recognized a duty to protect the process rights of minorities — until now, apparently.
Once Sotomayor dispensed with the other side’s legal arguments, the court’s first Hispanic justice — she is of Puerto Rican descent — gets personal.
Race matters, she wrote, “for reasons that really are only skin deep, that cannot be discussed any other way, and that cannot be wished away.”
She went on, “Race matters to a young man’s view of society when he spends his teenage years watching others tense up as he passes, no matter the neighborhood where he grew up. Race matters to a young woman’s sense of self when she states her hometown, and then is pressed, ‘No, where are you really from?’ . . . Race matters because of the slights, the snickers, the silent judgments that reinforce that most crippling of thoughts: ‘I do not belong here.’ ”
To young people of color, the Roberts court replied: Maybe you don’t.
By: Eugene Robinson, Opinion Writer, The Washington Post, April 24, 2014
“Serious Equal-Protection Concerns”: Justice Sotomayor’s Powerful Defense Of Equality
Yesterday, the Supreme Court upheld a provision of Michigan’s constitution that bans the state or any of its subdivisions from “grant[ing] preferential treatment to any individual or group on the basis of race, sex, color, ethnicity, or national origin in the operation of public employment, public education, or public contracting.” The Court was fractured; the six justices who voted to uphold the amendment did so for three independent reasons. Written by Justice Anthony Kennedy, the plurality decision—to which Chief Justice John Roberts and Associate Justice Samuel Alito signed on—was narrow: It upheld the amendment without disturbing any precedent. Far more interesting was Justice Sonia Sotomayor’s dissent, which makes a strong case for a robust interpretation of the equal-protection clause of the 14th Amendment and represents perhaps her most compelling work in her tenure on the Court so far.
The case for upholding Michigan’s amendment, which was adopted through the ballot-initiative process, seems compelling at first glance. Even if one agrees that affirmative-action programs are generally constitutional, it surely cannot be the case that the Constitution requires states or the federal government to adopt affirmative-action policies. Had Michigan never adopted affirmative-action policies or had the legislature repealed them, this would presumably not raise a serious constitutional question. So why wouldn’t the citizens of Michigan be able to make the same policy choice? “There is no authority in the Constitution of the United States or in this Court’s precedents,” Kennedy asserts in the plurality opinion, “for the Judiciary to set aside Michigan laws that commit this policy determination to the voters.”
In the most relevant precedent, the Court ruled in 1976 that a Washington constitutional amendment that banned the use of bussing to integrate schools violated the 14th Amendment because it “impose[d] substantial and unique burdens on racial minorities.” Joined by Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Justice Sotomayor makes a powerful argument that this and related precedents require the Court to strike down the Michigan initiative.
The core of the Court’s “political-process” precedents, Sotomayor observes, is that minorities have access to the state’s democratic procedures. The Constitution “does not guarantee minority groups victory in the political process,” but it does “guarantee them meaningful and equal access to that process. It guarantees that the majority may not win by stacking the political process against minority groups permanently, forcing the minority alone to surmount unique obstacles in pursuit of its goals—here, educational diversity that cannot reasonably be accomplished through race-neutral measures.” Reallocating power in the way Michigan does here therefore raises serious equal-protection concerns.
Sotomayor’s dissent cites a landmark Kennedy opinion: Romer v. Evans, in which the Court struck down a Colorado initiative forbidding the recognition of sexual orientation as a protected category under existing civil-rights laws. Sotomayor observes that Romer “resonates with the principles undergirding the political-process doctrine.” The Court forbade Colorado from preventing a disadvantaged minority access to the state and local political processes, even though states are not constitutionally required to pass civil-rights laws.
Sotomayor’s dissent also offers a useful defense of the political-process doctrine and its strong roots in the 14th Amendment. Starting with the famous fourth footnote of Carolene Products in 1938, the Court has held that state actions that burden minorities should be subject to heightened judicial scrutiny. When burdens are placed on minorities that affect access to the political process, the possibility of discrimination is particularly acute, allowing exclusionary politics to become self-perpetuating.
It is instructive that in their concurrence Justices Antonin Scalia and Clarence Thomas mock the influence of Carolene Products: “We should not design our jurisprudence to conform to dictum in a footnote in a four-Justice opinion.” This is grimly ironic, given that Justice Scalia and Justice Thomas recently joined an opinion gutting the Voting Rights Act based on highly implausible bare assertions made by dicta in an opinion written by Chief Justice Roberts less than five years ago. With respect to Carolene Products, conversely, what matters is not merely the footnote in one opinion but the fact that it conforms to the 14th Amendment, and was elaborated on in many subsequent cases. Several of these precedents were the political-process rulings that were supposed to control the outcome in yesterday’s case. As both Scalia from the right and Sotomayor from the left argue, it’s hard to deny that these precedents have been silently overruled, even if the plurality says otherwise.
The consequences of Michigan’s constitutional amendment illustrate the ongoing relevance of the Court’s equal-protection precedents. As the dissenters point out, the percentage of African-American students getting degrees from the University of Michigan was the lowest since 1991 after the amendment passed. In addition, the percentage of racial minorities in freshman classes at Michigan’s flagship university has steadily declined—even as racial minorities comprise an increasing percentage of the state’s population. This does not in itself prove that the Court was wrong to uphold it, but it does show that the elimination of affirmative action is unwise, and at a minimum the Supreme Court should show deference to elected decision-makers who determine that it is necessary.
By: Scott Lemieux, The American Prospect, April 23, 2014
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